#why do i even check in on the bird site anymore it really is worse than tumblr in every single way

[renslice]

If these fools had one look at my tumblr dash they'd instantly vaporize, leaving nothing but smoking pairs of shoes

[cynamonowo]

multiples of 3, datomi <3

i love you so much bestie <3 this is gonna be super long (so under the cut it goes) And. kind of based in my general "aini does not happen & they get to work things out" au lmao

ship ask game

3. What was their first impression of each other?

"oh god who is this man and why is he bleeding out at this shrine" "oh god is that an angel that's going to take me to see baby jesus"

6. How do they make up/apologize after an argument?

hitomi probably talks about what both of them did wrong bc adult communication!!! we're not teens anymore!! on the other hand i think date would first sulk then blame himself before being a grown up too lol

9. What do they dislike most about the other? Why?

for hitomi it's probably just how date can get so focused on his work he forgets to care for himself. as for him, it's probably hitomi's tendency to keep secrets & refuse help

12. Do they have a difficult time when separated from each other, or are they fairly independent?

*gestures in the direction of aini* yeah no i think they're very independent but date can get like that r/ambien "i miss my wife :(" post lmao

15. What songs remind you of their relationship?

oh man... mogło być nic, heart of wool, and boats & birds

18. How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick?

omg date would probably either minimize his suffering bc there's Stuff to be Done, Or be a total drama queen. in both cases hitomi's very exasperated but fond. when she's ill though, date's probably losing his mind and having aiba check on her every other minute while he reads the entire webmd site

21. Do they enjoy domestic life?

very much so! i think that after the resolution route date cuts down on his cabaret club outings bc he feels So Old. and after they start dating they go out sometimes but also like to chill inside, clean/cook together, drink some wine, and watch a movie or smth :3

24. How do their personalities affect their relationship? Do their characteristics compliment each other, or clash often?

actually i think they're more similar than ppl think! both are very determined and family-oriented, have a tendency for self-sacrifice, and like to joke around (hitomi's jokes are more subtle though lmao).i think they mostly differ when it comes to impulsivity - date's that kind of person to act first and think second lol

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

mm i think it's mostly through doing little things for each other, like hitomi making a cute bento box for date, and him making her tea just the way she likes it (piping hot)

30. What are their respective love languages? Do their love languages work well together?

gestures above. acts of service i think. a bit of quality time and physical touch as well (date never passes an opportunity to Grab A Boob), but mostly just ensuring the other's life goes as smooth as possible bc boy howdy they've been through some shit

33. How do they flirt? Who’s the worse flirt?

date probably makes a lot of innuendo heavy jokes that hitomi pretends not to understand so he can embarrass himself while explaining lmao but tbh i can't imagine them flirting that much. they don't really need to

36. How do they feel about having kids? Are they in agreement?

"we have two very lively daughters, that's enough lmao" (plus like. i think they only start actually dating after a few years, so both are in their forties & there's much lower chance to have a kid even if they tried. if smth happened they'd probably be happy to have a child together)

39. When and how did they admit that they loved each other? If they haven’t yet, why?

it probably took a veeery long time for them to feel comfortable with saying it out loud (but they knew. they knew), so maybe 2 yrs after getting into a relationship? and tbh i think hitomi said it first & date bluescreened at this. she loves him. she really loves him, despite everything. he's crying.

42. What’s their relationship like with each other’s friends/families?

haha yeah about that. (boss & hitomi text often though. mostly worrying about date. disaster man.)

45. How do they support each other? How do they rely on each others support?

oh i think they support each other by just. being there for one another. doing little things to cheer up the other one, asking how to help, bouncing ideas off of each other. but when it gets Harder i think both of them (mostly date) bottle things up a lot until the other one (mostly hitomi) gets too worried to let that slide.

48. Do they talk about their future together? Why or why not?

:( p sure they'd be afraid of considering an actual future together when you take into account What Happened Last Time (and in aini :// ), so it'd take like. a few good years until they feel comfortable enough to assume they wouldn't get separated again...

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - Dark Grey

A/n: So this was request but I couldn't find who requested it (and it wasn't anonymous!) So whoever did just give me a hey! This is literally the longest fic I have ever written.

Warnings: Blood, gore, death, sad Kaz, language, torture, Parem I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Your a double agent for the dregs

"Come on you little shits, we have a job to do." One of the higher ups of the Dime Lions yells at some men at some tables at the Emerald Palace in the back.

Little birds have told me that people have been raving about this place being extravagant, but it's really just extra dramatic if you ask me. The green of the building is like someone drunk from the Crow Club wandered over here and puked on it and someone just decided the color looked pretty, so they mixed some glitter and red and pow. There you have it.

That may just be me though.

I start to get up with all the others but the man who just yelled, jets hand in front of me, fast like I'm going to run off.

"The boss wants to talk with you about getting you higher status." The man growls obviously not happy about someone who could be possibly taking his spot and he's probably not happy it could be a girl. Well sucks too suck.

I almost nod and have an emotionless face on but I realize that's the real me would do that, have have to be Cozbi and she's a little naive. But she's good enough if Pekka wants to notice her.

I let a smile crawl on my face; "Well I guess your just going to have to tell Mr. Rollins I would be delighted." I say nearly flirting with an accent, but more taunting like as I twirl my tailored unnatural bright red hair (like it's VERY bright) around my finger and I grin like a popular school girl.

"I'm not your messenger." The man scowls.

"But boss wants you up there in five minutes." He snaps and goes off face all red.

I barely even manage keep into place long enough as the men walk out to start their job. As soon as they do I speed off to a bathroom and I write on a piece of paper in a stall.

Giving me higher status, think he's getting suspicions though. Their going on a job tomorrow night to take out the Blacktips. Amush. Pekka also got a stash of Parem. Don't know why. Stay Safe, don't give clues. Frame someone.

-Your favorite person from the barrel

I open the window above my stall and I do a low whistle.

Fweet. Fweet.

A crow comes and lands on the window sill I grin slightly and my (also tailored) e/c eyes touch down on the raven haired bird. I'm reminded of Kaz's raven hair and his dark brown eyes as I hand him the folded note and the bird tilts it's head and takes the note and fly's off.

I flush the toilet and hurry out heading to Pekka's office.

I open the door slowly priding myself for being exactly a minute late, it works really well for who I'm playing. I see Pekka siting in his chair but instead of waiting for me like I thought he would be. Right now though he's reading something with a almost confused look on his face.

Shit.

"Well, well, well Cozbi your finally here." Pekka smiles not a nice smile - though he is a barrel boss.

The door shuts behind me and someone shoves me to the ground and people surround me and hold me in place.

"Or should I say Y/n." And then everything goes black.

_______________Time skip a few hours in a random warehouse (not that you know that)😈😈😈___________________________________

I slowly open my eyes and I look around the place. I'm tied to chair there's no light in the room so it's hard to make out anything but I think the floor is concert but the walls are wood.

Cheap.

"I didn't think you would be up so soon Y/n... Well this is a surprise." Rollins says and then in flash stabs a dagger into my stomach.

My scream fills the air as he pulls the knife out. I make my voice quiver I can still be Cozbi, I can still be Cozbi.

"I-I don't know who Y/n-Y/n is sir-sir." I stutter but my entire body is on fire from being in enough interrogations before. It's telling me to be harsh to not get to the point, but I might be able to get out of here if I play the part.

He takes my jaw and shoves it forward harshly. "We already know who you are L/n. Y/n L/n the dregs notorious double agent that never gets killed or even better caught."

Pekka smiles sadistically.

"I'm going to make sure this story ends in red." He laughs.

He goes to leave but he puts his hand up.

"And make sure she's can't see." His henchmen put a blindfold on me as I hear the door close. I can feel them coming closer and I hear one smack something on the ground that must have been a bat.

"Let's have some fun girly." I tug at my bonds hopelessly and helplessness fills my body.

________TIME SKIP_________________________________________

My screams ring this room for the next week.

Or what I at least think is a week. There's no windows in here so it's hard to tell when time pass's. Pekka doesn't come back again but I know his coming soon because his henchmen have been worse than usual because they want a raise or something.

I gave up thinking Kaz would come. I remember what he told me last time I saw him before I went on this mission.

We won't come for you if you get caught and it's only a matter of time before you do.

I messed up the last mission we were on with the crows, I got Inej hurt and he wasn't happy. So I did this job.

Because maybe then I would get what I deserved.

My hands have knives through them sticking them to the chairs, there's blood all over my face from the daily beatings. My one leg is twisted and broken in ugly places and cuts and bruises litter my body.

I know it's only a matter of time before my body gives out and Pekka finally wins.

The door to my (what feels like) cell opens and there's Pekka and six more henchmen in the room.

Those are new.

They might not be henchmen though I think we're past that at this point, I think their assassins.

Or something like that anyways.

Their hoods are up but I can clearly see that there's two girls and four guys. My vision blurs a little. Maybe death will grant me mercy sooner than I thought.

"Meet my new friends Cozbi." Pekka mocks and jesters towards the cloaked figures.

"Ironic that you choose the name Cozbi. For did you know, it means liar? I thought maybe I should call you that now, liar. It fits perfectly you know?" Pekka spits in my face.

"Anyways..." Pekka drawls on for a bit and I realize the lack of movement in the halls. But before I can question that one of the male hooded figures gives a box to Rollins and he opens the box. Rollins grins like someone just made his day.

Fuck.

He advances on me with a small packet and I stay deadly still.

"Do you know what this is Cozbi." I keep my eyes trained on the packet.

"My name is Y/n."

Pekka laughs and grins evilly.

"You wanted to be Cozbi so you will be called as such." He growls and calls for is henchmen.

Two men come to tip my head back and hold my jaw in place. I try to shake them off by moving my head but it's no use.

"It's Parem." I freeze. No, no, no.

"For grisha you suffer by always wanting it not inculding the rare cases. But for normal humans."

He takes a step forward and he opens the packet and holds it over my mouth.

"It kills you terribly and so, so, so painfully." He crouches down and looks at me.

"Your going to die as Cozbi. Your going to die a liar, and I will make sure all of Ketterdam remembers that."

He gestures towards his henchmen and instead of trying to prier open my mouth like I expect them too.

They go and pull up my hands.

My hands go through the hilts of the blade and it hurts so much I can't do anything but scream.

Pekka shoves the Parem in my mouth.

My body feels like it's withering away and Pekka laughs as I vibrate against my seat. I feel my eyes widen and the only thing going through my head is that Rollins is a foul.

The knives.

And I'm not going out without a fight.

I pull the knives out of the handles of the seat and I scream as the hilt of the blades touch my skin but I quickly cut the bonds around me and I stab one of my knifes into the first henchmen.

I leap towards the other and I barley manage the scrap him before my body hits the floor and I can't move anymore.

Searing pain stabs through my body like multiple knives just stabbing me over and over again I expect Pekka to be the last face I see and I murmur something about the saints but then I see it.

The hooded figures.

It's the Crows.

The henchmen are down on the floor and Pekka is tied up and gagged to the chair. I feel my vision start to blur and the Crows go to check the area.

"We have to get her a healer!" Someone yells. But I'm on my back looking up and I barley even recognize that things are happening around me. It's like I'm watching from a different world but I can't do anything.

"Y/n!" Someone yells and picks me up from my spot on the ground.

"Come on Y/n!" Someone whisper-yells.

I groan as the person starts walking and I let out a rattling breath, that I knew that should concern me but I couldn't care less.

I just wanted it to end.

"Your not dying on me today Y/n."

Kaz, I think it's Kaz.

Everything shifts back into focus, Kaz is running (even with his bad leg) and somehow the searing pain from the parem in my body has started to subside. Noticing the many, many yards of guards running after the crows and some group of them has so, so, so many guns pointed right at Kaz.

Then it happens.

Suddenly I feel above the others, like I have powers that no one has ever had. The universe was bending to my will and I gasp as I'm lifted up into the air by something shadowy, and dark blackness surrounds my legs all the way up to my waist. I don't quiet know what I'm doing but it feels natural, like I knew how too do it all along.

I raise my hands into the air and shadows burst out into the open.

Guards are being cut in half, some are being chocked to death, some look like their getting stabbed multiple times as wounds just show up. Others look like they have a disease as darkness spreads across their bodies. And some just fall to the floor and die silently.

Their dead.

The power, and the need to protect everyone I care about is gone.

I don't even scream.

I hit the ground with a thud and I try to open my mouth as Kaz frantically pulls me into his arms cradling me. No, that couldn't be right though.

He yells for someone but I can't make it out I try to blink, but even that is hard and it's so slow and I can feel Kaz bring me closer too him but I don't really know what's reality anymore.

"Y/n." The voice (although it tries not to show it) lets concern and fear run through the words. I gasp.

"Kaz." I manage to say. He pulls me (somehow) closer as he lifts my face up to look into his.

He says something, but I can't comprehend anything he's saying. The edges of my vision start going black and everything else is going fuzzy.

"You'll live!" Kaz says, trying to reassure me but it sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more.

I place a hand on his and I want to say something, but the words are all mixed up and it feels like concrete is holding my jaw shut. Everything starts slowly turning black and I'm internally screaming in my head;

No! I have to say something! I can't go like this!

It's useless though, because everything slowly fades away the last thing I see is the dark brown of Kaz's concerned eyes.

_______TIME SKIP_____________________________________________

The light bulb of whatever room I'm in flickers off and on as darkens seems to try and cover it. I take a look around to see all the Crows tied up to a chair each, they have gags in their mouths and they look like they have been tortured out of their minds.

I run over to Wylan trying to help him out, but he let's out a muffled scream as I go towards him. I quickly turn to Jesper but he's so still in his seat not even looking at me.

Nina and her confident demeanor is gone, her aura is laced with panic and Matthias is with her on that one.

Inej can't seem to stop shaking, making her presence known to everyone. Then I turn to the last chair and my heart must have stopped.

Kaz's corpse lays, in the chair. Bubbles of darkens, are around his mouth and it looks like it chocked him to death.

Dirtyhands was finally beaten.

Then darkness shoots out of me, and I can't seem to stop it as it kills everyone else.

I sit up and a scream rips through my throat. I breath in heavily trying to get the air into my lungs. Everything in me burns, pain course's through me like a parasite on steroids, but at least time I succeed at muffling my scream.

I hear someone running from another room and the door fly's open. On command darkens shoots out from my hand and starts chocking the person- Holy shit! That's Kaz!

"No!" And it all appears to fade away into the shadows.

Tears start to fill my eyes, what will happen when I'm in a real state of panic? Could my nightmare eventually come true?

I feel the bed dip beside me and despite my hardest efforts, my eyes wander over to Kaz.

He looks like he hasn't slept a day in his life, with the essentially black moons under his eyes. His skin looks chalky white, contrasting his red rimmed eyes that looks like he had been crying just a few minutes ago.

Concern fills my shadowed heart, something must have happened for the Kaz fucking Brekker to be like this. My fears about being a shadow summoner disappear, they do stay at the back of my mind but finding out what's up with the bastard of the barrel is more important.

I carefully place a hand on his cheek. He tense's up a bit before relaxing into the palm of my hand and even leaning into it a bit.

"What happened?"

Kaz looks at me in disbelief. "What happened?" He lets out a chocked laugh that holds a sob in the background.

"You died." My breath hitches in my throat, wait... That can't be right. Can it?

"Matthias had to do chest compression's on you while Nina tried to restart your heart. All because I couldn't fucking do it."

He takes in a breath and rips my hand away from his face.

"Your heart stopped Y/n, we thought you were dead. But they kept going and somehow saved you!" A sob tears through his throat and Kaz Brekker breaks down in front of me. His walls that he has tried so hard to keep strong have had a boulder thrown at it. Smashing it with so much force that he couldn't possibly rebuild it.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. "For all the pain I caused you." I somehow manage to speak as my own tears start to come up.

"Seriously? Your sorry?" Kaz turns to me and grips my shoulders.

"Your the one who died, damn it!"

"Hey I have something to hold over Jesper?" I try to joke and it gets a small, very tiny tried smile out of Kaz.

"And the fact that your a shadow summoner."

"I didn't know." I say quickly and I pull back defensively, Kaz just sighs.

"I know."

He lets his hands run down my arms and his hands make delicate patterns on my skin. Then I remember the parem. Fuck.

"What were the effects of the parem?" If anyone would know, it would be Kaz.

He pause's for a second seemingly in thought before opening his mouth the speak.

"Well your life span was shortened to a normal one." I exhale in relief at that news, I really didn't want to live for centuries.

"But your powers could surpass the Darkling's, and the only reason you don't have the opposite of what you have now is because you pushed it down for so long. The healers somehow purged the parem out of your body before it could make you a mindless addict."

"That better news then I thought I would get." Kaz nods but there's something else lingering in the back of his head.

He thinks I'm going to leave.

I intertwine our hands together, and I turn my head to look him right in the eyes.

"I'm not leaving." I blurt out.

"If I went to the little palace I would get hunted, if I went anywhere else I would get hunted. I might go into hiding for a bit, but I'm not leaving you."

A smile that's even bigger than the last one by some means crawls up on his face.

"Good, because I just got you back."

Words 3021

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua

(If you want to be added just comment taglist)

[writteninkat]

iv - carnival tickets

word count: 2,246

warnings: mentions of blood and dead animals

"I'ma break you off, let me be your motivation"

index

Today was the day you and the rest of class 1A can finally try out their hero costumes. You smiled, looking at yourself in the mirror, giving yourself butterflies as you do so.

Your hero costume was a simple black bodysuit type. Garters attacked to the clothing helped keep your thigh high boots up. The top covered your entire arms, hands and fingers- you designed it this way so your palms wouldn’t be littered with callouses given that you deal with weapons like swords and scythes every time you use your quirk.

The bodysuit is a title neck type that showed off your shoulders. Your costume is finished off with a full face black kitsune mask with glowing blue paint around the eyes, it makes up the whiskers as well as a little nose of a fox.

You keep it up on your head, not wanting to put it on unless you're engaging in combat.

You close your locker, joining the girls who are hyping each other up in what they’re wearing. You all step out of the changing area and you can’t help but feel giddy as you approach your teachers, excited with the activities for today.

Everyone begins freaking out at the site of All Might- which you don’t get at all. He’s blond, has a freakish smile and a built body. So what? “Who’s he?” You whisper at Mina who looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads.

“What?”

You sigh, “Who’s he? And why is everyone freaking out about him?” You ask again and Mina gives you that same look, but much worse. She’s acting as if you’ve just asked a very stupid question. “That’s All Might.” She answers, tone unusually calm and soft.

“I meat who is he?”

“The number one hero.”

You furrow your brows, gaze scanning the man who’s busy talking in front of the awestruck class. You tilt your head to the side, “That’s your number one pro hero?” You ask, pouting.

“You sound a lot of things- underwhelmed? Disappointed? Dissatisfied?” Bakugou says from behind you, the look in his eyes catching you off guard. You pause for a moment, choosing your words carefully to make sure you’re not offending anyone who’s within earshot.

“You look up to him?” You ask and he raises a brow at you as if you’ve just asked the most obvious question in all time. “He’s been my hero since forever. I look up to him more than anyone in the world. He’s my inspiration and the one of the biggest contributors to my dream go being a hero.” Your eyebrows lift in shock, you’ve never heard nor seen Bakugou respect a person so much. And by the looks of Mina, Kirishima and Denki, they haven’t seen this side of him either.

Your heart breaks as you return your gaze to the number one hero in front of you, smiling sadly. You don't know how or why, but your judgement tells you that the seven-footer man in front of you isn't all that powerful- not anymore at least.

"Here's the breakdown. There will be four teams of two- half of them will be heroes and the other half will be villains. The hero team can win in two ways; you can either capture the villains or retrieve the bomb. The villain team wins if the hero team is unable to do any of the tasks within the time limit." He explains quite clearly and thoroughly.

You feel your heart beat against your chest, you're feeling very giddy. Your excitement causes Bakugou's lips to twitch upwards, carving out a soft smile to which he hides almodt immediately so no one can see him.

All Might pulls out a draw lots box, letting fate decide which teams everyone belong to. You end up being teammates with Aoyama and Mina who you happily greet.

Everyone is asked to stay inside a monitoring room to watch and observe their classmates in battle. When All Might announces Bakugou and Izuku's team being up first, you don't think before walking up to the blond and placing a hand on his shoulder. He turns his head to the side, raising an expecting brow.

"Good luck out there." You smile softly to which he scoffs at. "I don't need luck to win." He punches his palm as he sets of his quirk, "I already know I will."

You roll your eyes, walking towards Izuku to wish him good kuck as well before following the class to the monitor room. Your eyes scan over the wall of monitors, finding it closely similar to the monitor room your house has back in the US.

As you watch Bakugou and Izuku in battle, it's clear to see that there's something going on between them. There seems to be a conflict between them that you can't quite point and as much as you wanted to ask Bakugou about it, you decided to wait until he'd tell you.

Why on earth do you think he'd tell you?

You shake your head and clear your stupid thoughts, stepping away into a corner and sitting down to mentally prepare yourself. As you try to meditate, you don't realise how much time has went by until you're being called by All Might for your turn.

You scan the room but don't spot an angry blond nor an angel look-a-like green haired boy. You pout, hoping to at least see thosep pretty vermilion eyes before the activity.

As you take your steps towards the building, a small smile stretches across your lips when you see Bakugou's familiar back towards you, only for it to smile when you see just how upset he looks like.

"C'mon, Y/n! We're the villains right now we can't be late!!" Mina calls out to you, waving her hand up. You look back at Bakugo one last time, your gazes catching each other before you step inside the building, pulling your mask down to cover your face.

"Hey Mina? Can you let me take charge of our group?" You ask as the three of you make your way towards the room where the fake bomb is. "Alright! We'll be at your command!" She salutes to you a little too enthusiastically to which you chuckle softly at, making sure to smile with your eyes to make sure she sees you're smiling despite the mask covering your face.

After All Might makes sure each teams' statuses are a go, he commences the activity. "Alright. What would you like for us to do, captain?" Mina asks. You stay quiet for a moment, summoning two katanas in each of your hands. You move them around, making sure your wrists are loose and flexible before actually using them.

"You guys can stay still and guard the bomb." You say, adjusting your gloves before turning around to face the only entrance and exit of the room. "I'll have to go and hunt me some heroes."

"It's been a few minutes since they started and when Y/n suddenly disappeared like that. What do you think the villains are planning?" Tsuyu asks, eyes on the screen as the class continues to search for you in every monitor in the wall, but to no avail.

"I've been seeing a few mice here and there. Do you think that's Koda's doing?" Kirishima asks, to which Denki asks back, "Are the mice you see dead or alive?"

Kirishima furrows his brows at the blond, about to explain how the mice are alive but stops himself when he looks back at the screen and sees the mice he was looking at just a few seconds ago was now dead, body sliced in half. He checks the other monitors as well and his confusion rises even more at the sight of multiple dead mice all over the floors.

"Time is ticking, heroes. You better get to the bomb or if this was a real life situation it'd have blown up by now." All Might says into the mic which puts pressure on the two boys.

The class watches in anticipation as the two steps into a wide and open room, somewhere similar to where Bakugou and Izuku were fighting in a while ago.

"No one's here." Sato states, turning around. "Then, there should only be one room left-"

"Leaving so soon, heroes?" You ask, body leaning on the closed door with one foot pressed on it and your arms crossed across your chest.

Sato and Koda raise their guards, stepping into a fighting stance as theylook at you with such focused eyes. You chuckle, "Your little friends running around the building were pretty hard to find. Not to mention there were quite a handful of them which caused me to reach my speed quirk's limit."

"So it was Y/n who sliced all those rats? But we didn't see her at all. There were no movements in any of the cameras." Sero points out, confusion evident in his face. "Well, she did use her speed quirk. And if what she stated was true, then she'll be no longer to use that quirk of hers, at least during this fight." Iida voices out.

"Two guys against one girl? Isn't that too unfair for her?" Mineta asks, receiving a growl from Bakugou. "If you think her being a girl puts her at a disadvantage you're wrong. If you wanna be a hero, it doesn't matter what your gender is, as long as you're strong."

Despite being in a foul mood, Bakugou still found himself wanting to fight for you. He didn't like the thought of people lookibg down at him, but he found it weird how he preferred it when people not look down at you instead.

"Come on boys. I'll keep this quick and short for you so we can end this activity already." Fingerless boxing gloves appear in each of your hands, they're black but with neon blue accents. You get into a fighting stance, "I really hate sweating."

Sato charges at you, throwing a naive punch at your way to which you dodge easily- scoffing. What was he trying to do, intimidate a little child? As you moved your body to the side, dodging his immature punch, you punch him in the gut, eyes on Koda as you do this.

You hear Sato wheeze before his body falls to the ground. You crack your knuckles, walking towards Koda who begins to panic, using his quirk to call in all sorts of birds and squirrels.

"Koda, this is as scary as being chased by a street gang of kittens." You say, stepping towards him. You step to his side, bringing your hand up to his forehead and flicking it, the contact causing him to tremble before losing consciousness.

Your mother's body guard taught you this- it was a skill he said that most assassins he worked with knows about. He never clearly explained to you how to do it, but as long as your opponent had the slightest bit of fear for you, it will end up working. For Koda's case, he looked like he was about to piss his pants, so it worked out a little too well for you.

"Y/n's team wins this round." All Might announces as the rest of class 1A stands behind him, unsure of what they had just seen.

As the day comes to an end, you learn from Kirishima and Mina that Bakugou has been feeling off since the fight lately. "We tried to stop him from leaving, but he just wouldn't listen. Izuku went and ran after him too. If you go now you should be able to catch up to the both of them." Urataka explains, setting the stack of books she's carrying on a desk.

You run out of the classroom, jumping down flights of stairs to get to the entrance of the highschool as quickly as possible. By the time your eyes finally caught sight of the two boys, they were already talking with each other.

"I wasn't hiding my quirk from you. It was given to me by someone else, recently."

You raise your brows, quickly hiding yourself from the both of them. You place a finger gently on your lips as you stared at the floor, listening as Izuku explained to Bakugou.

The next thing you know it, Bakugou was now yelling at the green haired boy. He sounded so upset, as if he wanted to cry. It was clear as day that the blond didn't like losing, not to anyone and especially not to Izuku.

You took a peak, eyes widening as you see Katsuki Bakugou looking so vulnerable with tears in the corners of his eyes, his brows knitted from being so upset with himself. He walks away, slouching as he wipes his tears with the back of his hand.

You step out of your hiding spot, Izuku's expression growing nervous when he sees you. "O-oh hey, hey Y/n! I didn't... ummm... did you..." He looks down, scratching the back of his head. "Did you hear something?"

You stare him down for a moment, unsure of what to answer before sighing. "I'm not going to say anything to anyone nor ask you about it. But I will tell you this." Your words causes Izuku to look up at you in anticipation. "The second you master that power of yours, you have to fight me with everything you've got. Alright?"

Bakugou grumbles to himself, kicking at a rock, watching as it rolls into a canal. He huffs, annoyed. "I'd tell you you look ugly when you're mad, but then I'd be telling you you look ugly everyday." You yell at him from behind, causing him to turn around.

"School isn't over yet." Bakugou furrows his brows as he watches you make your way towards him. "And yet here we are." You point out, smiling as you put your hands behind your back.

He sighs, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "What do you want?"

You take out two pink carnival tickets from your pocket, shoving it at his face and waving it in front of him. "I've always went to this carnival with my mom back in the US and I'm feeling kind of homesick. I accidentally bought two tickets too so now you gotta go with me."

You begin to pull at him to which he pulls back, a bored expression resting on his adorable face.

Adorable?

"No." He grunts.

You smile at him, "I wasn't giving you a choice."

[sambinnie]

1. Happy Mabon! Every autumn, I forget that the darkness comes clanging down in a great rush in the mornings. One day, I am greeted by a pinking sunrise. 48 hours later, it’s so dark on my run to the river that I have to stop a passing runner and check the time, in case my disturbed sleep sent me dressing and leaving the house at 2am. This summer may not have given us those mornings where it’s so hot I can barely get out of the water, where those early hours feel like full silent days carved out just for me to sit in the light and wait for everyone else to wake up, where the only extra thing I put on to run home is my trainers — I look at my waiting winter gear, neoprene socks and gloves, head torch, two more thickening jumpers, hat, thermal mittens — but every season, every day, is beautiful.

Today we go early for celebrations, and the water is silky, and Orion hangs over us with his phallic sword dangling and Betelgeuse winking on one shoulder. The near-full moon spotlights us and I feel almost ready for the shortening days.

2. Hilary Mantel continues to be a literary god. How does she write with that clarity? How can I ever speak with her calm good sense and wit? 

3. We have two main problems at the moment, as far as I can see. a) What we’re doing (“curating” our lives; twitter spats; purity spirals; division and isolation; wanting ‘debates’ that can only be won or lost; encouraging people to buy more things; trying to buy our happiness; letting marketers tell us how we feel about the world rather than encouraging major moral lessons from throughout the ages to challenge us on our weaknesses; refusing to accept that life is suffering; asking self-care to be a plaster for everything we don’t have) and b) what we’re not doing (joining together to stand against those with more money and power; protecting the people who have even less power and voice than we do as a matter of course; learning from history; protecting nature above all else; prioritising going for walks; learning to repair things and campaigning to make things repairable; having a basic belief in human dignity for all, not just those with whom we agree; accepting that truly, we are all different and no amount of shaming or disgust will change that; working to shape our societies, culture, economies, production, food supplies and communications around improving — not just sustaining — the air, water and land, and fighting to ensure all of those new shapes protect women and children).

Individualism has morphed into something so completely self-destructive that we’ve forgotten we need nature more than anything — literally, more than anything — and we need to unionise and unite and put aside differences and work together even with people we don’t like. 

Because when there are wicked people in power, when it’s genuinely exhausting to think about all the corrupt, venal, toxic, divisive, false, and cruel things they have done since coming to power, those people love to watch everyone below pointing their fingers at one another, saying, You, You’re The Enemy, You’re The Problem, while corrupt populist leaders rub their bellies and chuckle at another promise broken, another mass death on their hands, another building site on a protected forest. Do you understand the stakes here? Do you understand that it’s actual survival? It’s not about being right any more, it’s not about besting someone in the argument. It’s about having decision makers who can not only ensure there is still food to eat and air to breathe, but that relations both within a country and between countries are built on care, and support, and compassion, and believing in human dignity. And while it sounds wishy-washy and hands-clappy it’s the schmaltzy, sentimental truth. It’s the only one, really. 

If we instead continue to believe every single day that my feelings are the most important, that my beliefs are the right ones, that I’ve got to prove those baddies there are evil and awful and wrong, then honestly, what the fuck? If we’re happy to live in a country where hostile architecture is the starting point for all public builds, where we send refugee boats away from our shores, where affiliate links are a career goal, where we haven’t stormed the Daily Mail offices with accounts of all our lovely immigrant friends and family and had a huge feast together and compared our long and tangled family trees, then come on. It’s only a race to the bottom if we all keep running. 

Because, pressingly, whatever the spark of a major global conflict — assassination, fuel shortages, hyperinflation, invasion — the kindling is almost always a populace fed pure hatred for months, for years, until they can’t even taste it anymore but are ready to spew it out again, and are ready to use another populace as the receptacle. And hatred is brewed up in silence and isolation, and in the ashes of bridges burned between disparate groups. 

And on that note, I’m not a conspiracy theorist, mainly because I don’t believe governments are generally competent enough to manage Grand Plans, but it’s annoying that technology and social trends and culture have developed in such a way that no one knocks on anyone’s door for a chat as a matter of course now, that it’s a given that a ringing phone triggers anxiety, that it’s not the norm for cups of tea with your neighbours, that we don’t know each other’s neighbourhoods, that we don’t even talk on the phone, with live words and intonation and synchronised laughter, but in text, in WhatsApp chats, in tapped out words and symbols that we know can be screen-grabbed and misinterpreted, that we know are kept, filtered and sold by the tech companies. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s just a reality that every single one of us can choose to do differently. 

Sometimes exactly the right thing comes along at the right time. All of us here watched About a Boy at the weekend, a film which is so wonkily weighted and oddly rhythmed, but a perfect depiction of everything I’m banging on about here. Hugh Grant’s character likes being alone. He’s happy that way. It suits him. It’s his choice. Then, between one thing and another, he finds himself drawn into a world of a suicidal single mother, a duck-murdering young boy, more single mothers, more tricky teens, plus exes and mothers-in-law and awkward support groups. And it turns out that actually, being with people is better. Being uncomfortable often develops you as a person. Constantly prioritising only yourself produces a waxen, pointless baby. Making shared sacrifices might just be the point of being alive. Remember that to be human is to be flawed. That no one is ever completely right, and no one is ever completely wrong. That the boring stuff makes us feel good, and the glossy stuff, if all we strive for is gloss, doesn’t. 

If you want anything practical, here are the things that have really helped me over the last few years:

Writing a letter or email regularly to my MP, to CEOs of organisations, to anyone I want to communicate my strong feelings and how I’d like things to be done better. Tweeting eats your soul. It’s a horrible myth the media pretends is important. It really, really isn’t.

Inviting people to go in front of me in queues, in traffic, getting on to buses and trains. It lowers my stress levels right down.

Learning the names of my neighbours and people I meet regularly on walks and letting them learn mine. (I definitely haven’t just decided I loathe a neighbour because they cut a bird-hatching tree down in their garden on the last day of the year it was legal to do so. It’s fine.)

Joining a few political parties, and the closest thing I have to a union

Making something, anything — everything can be done with love, and learning to not get sucked into the capitalist conceit of having to make it perfect, sellable, exhibitable is a genuine gift to yourself; making a cake or a film or a coaster and not putting it on social media, letting it be ugly or serviceless and loving it anyway. I felt extremely overwhelmed the other evening, but instead of doom-scrolling I knitted a… I don’t know, something flat and woollen, and it helped to have my hands and eyes working on directionless introspective creation. 

Trying to stop hating. Every time I want to tell a negative story in my head about someone, I attempt to turn it into something positive: how unhappy that person must be, what they must be missing out on. It’s so nauseatingly Pollyanna-ish, and of course it isn’t always successful, and of course every single day brings a hundred thousand examples of cruelty and injustice and wickedness, but the alternative only makes my life feel worse, so why would I indulge that? 

Teaching myself the names of birds, trees, flowers, clouds and constellations. I’m still at the most basic levels on all of these, but the difference one feels in the world when you can name things  — let alone use them and know their stories — is a very real sort of magic. (For that reason I hope to read this book very soon.) This episode of The Cut is also good on the wonder and power of learning the names of the weeds that grow in your nearest pavement crack. 

4. Creating anything is always a gamble, isn’t it, but writing a book you actually like for once and seeing it slowly and beautifully sink to the bottom of a river never to be seen again is ever so slightly crushing. However, it turns out even Thom Yorke feels that way, so I am comforted. 

5. I’m sure I’ve mentioned plenty of these before, but if you want some suggestions of where to find joy, here are my favourites from the last year or so:

I was given Lucy Easthope’s book, When the Dust Settles, for work recently, and I was surprised and delighted to discover the most uplifting, hopeful, human and rightfully angry book I’ve read in a long time. Do yourself a favour and preorder it. I bought this other book for my own birthday, gave it to a housemate to give to me, forgot about it, and was delighted to later unwrap He Used Thought As A Wife. Laughed a lot, cried twice. Marvellous. 

Now even the youngest housemate here can recite John Finnemore sketches and sing the songs. Has also taught them various composers, gods, logical fallacies and gothic story tropes. Also v funny. Oh, Kate Beaton! Her two books (Hark! A Vagrant and Step Aside Pops) are a bit like a comic-book version of Finnemore, but swearier and sexier and utterly unsuitable for all the housemates who have read it and been educated about the Brontes, Katherine Sui Fun Cheung, Tom Longboat, Nancy Drew, Ida B. Wells, Sacagawea, and the Borgias. 

Had to give Inside a restraining order against me for the sake of us all, but Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade is a masterpiece of writing, acting, sound design and optimism. Spy is dumb action comedy polished to perfection, and Yasujirō Ozu’s Good Morning seems like the inspiration for almost all US arthouse films since 1990, and is also beautiful, funny, thoughtful, and good. 

Taylor Swift’s Evermore, like all brilliant albums, isn’t completely perfect. But most of the songs are. And Hole’s classic Live Through This is still just ideal for turning up very, very loud after a tricky day, for the enjoyment of any neighbours who may have hacked down a bird-friendly tree on the last day of February. 

Watched both series of Liam Williams’ Ladhood when I had a week off this summer, and really relished the location, the intention, and the writing. More please. 

Miles Jupp and Justin Edwards continue to be my comforting bedtime listening in In and Out of the Kitchen. Has it ruined Nigel Slater for me? Well, a bit, but no more than any of us deserved. 

I thought this would be a book I’d mumble through the first chapter of, then let get buried in my To Read pile, never to re-open. Instead, I found Whatever Happened to Margo? laugh-out-loud funny, drily written, and full of humanity. Excellent Women has made me want to read everything written by Barbara Pym, a goal I am slowly but surely working towards. 

6. I’ve spent the last few years trying to find hazelnut trees, and finally found a copse between a car park and a play area, full of nuts the squirrels hadn’t noticed. Now I’ve found them, the spell has been cast and I see hazel trees everywhere, on walks and on pavements and running along motorway slip roads. A tray of green and brown frilled hazelnuts now dries with the laundry. They are so beautiful. 

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Döden Går Tyst I Skogen

Word count: 4487

Prompt: “I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

--------------

“I hope you guys had no other plans for this weekend because we’re going camping!”

Of course Cleves was the one to present this idea. She was the nature freak, after all (in a good way, of course).

It was just another day at the theater, another day of singing the same songs and dancing the same dances. Perhaps that’s why Cleves came up with this proposition in the first place; she could sense the dreariness coating the ten of them and knew they all needed a break.

“Camping?” Aragon said slowly. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” Cleves replied with natural enthusiasm. “Come on, we don’t have any shows this weekend. We need this. What’s a better way to unwind than be in the great outdoors?”

“Be inside where it’s safe?” Joan put in.

“It sounds good to me.” Anne said, talking over Joan, earning an annoyed huff from the girl, who promptly buries her face back into her sketchbook. “It gives me more of a reason not to do the dishes!”

“You’re still doing them,” Jane said, then smiled at Cleves. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. I don’t think I’ve ever gone camping before.”

“Think you can handle it, Miss Germaphobe?” Anne teased.

“Yes!” Jane barked, suddenly defensive. “It is nature! It’s probably cleaner out there than it is in here.”

“Poison ivy, poison oak, leprosy, hornets, rabies, murderers…” Joan began to rattle off the dangers of nature. “Fungal diseases, scorpions, bears…” She continues, but nobody pays attention after that.

“I think it’s a great idea!” Kitty piped up. “Can we take the dogs?”

“Yeah!” Cleves said excitedly. “This is gonna be amazing! You won’t regret it!”

And so, the plans were arranged.

After spending the three days in actual civilization, the gang packed up two cars with supplies Cleves had bought (again, nature freak) and drove off to the campsite the red queen knew about. 

They arrived a little after six. It took ten minutes to hike to the clearing, and then around another thirty minutes to unpack and get set up, but they were all eventually sitting on logs and chairs around the fire Kitty and Anne started, a task Jane had been hesitant about giving them.

“Let’s play a game!” Kitty said.

“Hippo,” Joan suggested.

She got several head tilts, but Cathy flashed a grin at her.

“We used to call it Hippo, but we got tired of people always asking, ‘Why’s it called Hippo?’” She laughed. “Nice OXENFREE reference, Jo. I got it.” She swung her head around to the others, missing Joan’s shy blush in reaction to what she said. “It’s like Truth or Dare, except it’s a little nicer because nobody has to chug a bottle of hot sauce or lick someone else’s butthole. You can ask anyone any question you want and they have to answer no matter what, but if someone can prove that they’re lying, they get to slap them for not telling the truth.”

The others nodded in understanding.

“I’ll go first to start us off,” Cathy said. “Jane- Would you ever be polygamous?”

Jane scrunched up her nose in bafflement at such a question why several others laughed loudly. Cathy merely shrugged at the look she was being given and then motioned for Jane to answer.

“No. No way.” Jane said. “I mean, if you’re into that, nifty, but one partner is hard enough to deal with for me.”

A few more snorts went through the group, but nobody made a move to slap Jane, meaning, as far as they all knew, she was telling the truth.

“My turn, right?” Jane asked.

“Yup,” Cathy nodded.

“Okay…” Jane looked around at everyone. “Anne!” The green queen perked up and waited excitedly. “If you woke up as the opposite gender, what’s the first thing you would do?”

“Masturbate.”

Laughter erupted through the clearing. Maria even tipped backwards off of the log she was sitting on and had to cling desperately to Bessie’s shirt, which nearly made the bassist come down with her.

“I’m crying!” Maggie howled, wiping a finger under her watering eyes.

“There was zero hesitation!” Cleves cried.

“Can I slap her just because?” Aragon asked. 

“I speak only the truth.” Anne smirked. “My turn now, and I choose...Bessie!”

There was a swell of intrigued murmurs. Bessie raised an eyebrow at Anne.

“Ever committed a crime?” Anne asked. 

“If the illegal downloading of over a thousand songs counts as a crime, then yes.” Bessie said nonchalantly. “And tax fraud.”

“What?” Aragon gaped, among many shocked reactions.

“Anna!” Bessie said, providing no context or explanation for her answer.

And so, the game went on. 

Darkness began to fall over the forest as evening turned to night. Rays of marigold and pink and orange slipped through the trees, bathing the clearing in the colors of twilight before serene, inky black settles in its place. Laughter and music filled the grove even as the moon rose up high in the silver-speckled sky. Hippo turned into Cards Against Humanity, then a forest dance party, and then just normal conversations with topics that would randomly whisk away with the wind. 

Maria was the first to turn in for the night at eleven. Cathy and Kitty followed thirty minutes later, until everyone had nestled into their respective tents. The sound of humming crickets and croaking frogs lulled them all into a peaceful sleep…

--

12:48

Saturday, November 12

That’s what the big, white letters and numbers at the top of Joan’s phone screen read when she pressed the power button. She squinted at the brightness, then shut it off to relieve her eyes of the stinging glow that blinded them. She set her phone aside and rolled over, finding that there was much more space than before. When she peeked out from under her heavy eyelids again, she saw that the sleeping that used to occupy Cleves, her tent roommate, was empty.

Probably using the bathroom, Joan thought, snuggling back up in the blanket she brought. However, for the life of her, she couldn’t drift back off. You’d think the silence outside would help, bit it didn’t. In fact, it made falling asleep even worse for that very reason- that it was silent. No chirping of night birds, no rustling of leaves in the wind, no croaking of frogs. Nothing.

Complete silence.

Joan sat up, rubbed her eyes, then crawled out of the tent. The fire had been reduced down to flickering embers, and the minimal glow they gave off revealed a bare perimeter around the site. When she checked, there was nobody in the other tents.

“Guys?”

No answer.

Joan grabbed one of the flashlights lying around and began scanning the area of the camping ground. There was nobody.  Not even the dogs they had brought along.

“Hello? Guys?”

She vaguely remembered them talking about going on a night hike hours earlier, so she stepped out of the fire’s light and started to search. She waved the flashlight around everywhere, calling out for her friends.

“Jane? Bessie? Catherine?” She shouted into the darkness. “Where’d you guys go? Anne?”

Nothing answered her.

Joan delved deeper into the woods. Fallen leaves and icy grass crunches underneath her feet. The darkness surrounded her like a malevolent entity. It seemed palpable, almost physical. She shivered as a cold whirlwind gusted around her, her pajamas providing little to no protection from the wind. She regretted not grabbing her coat, but she hadn’t been expecting it to take this long.

“They could have at least told me where they were going.” She grumbled, “Or when they would get back. Or when they left because this is ridiculous!”

A branch snapped loudly from behind. Joan whirled around to see nobody.

“Guys?”

Bushes rustled nearby.

“Guys, this isn’t funny anymore!” She yelled.

There were more snaps and crackles that seemed to come from every direction. A crash sounded from a few yards away, like someone had taken a big log and threw it to the ground with as much force as possible. Joan thought she heard laughter coming from in the trees. She’s spinning around in rapid circles, shining her flashlight everywhere.

Then, a scream. 

Something lunged out from the underbrush.

Joan shrieked in pure terror and fell backwards, becoming paralyzed with fear. She braced her arms over her head. The laughter is back. She peeks out and her heart sinks.

“Oh man, you should have seen your face, Joan!”

“You...you prick!!”

Kitty jumped out of the way when the pianist flung a stick at her. She doubled over, giggling and trying to catch her breath.

“That wasn’t funny!”

“Sorry, sorry, okay! It was just too good!”

She hauled Joan up to her feet, despite the nasty glare she was getting.

“So all of that was you?”

Kitty nodded, grinning widely and wiping her eyes.

“God, you are so annoying. You put way too much effort into that!” Joan growled, rolling her eyes. “That didn’t sound like you up in the trees. Come on, let’s hear you do that voice again.”

Kitty gave her a confused look.

“What?”

“The laughter. In the trees. Do it again.”

“What are you talking about? I just made all those rustling noises. I never climbed a tree.”

Joan was awful at telling when people were lying, but something inside of her told her that Kitty was telling the truth. She fidgeted nervously.

“It must have just been the wind then.” She said, despite how painfully cliché that sounded. “Let’s-let’s just get back to the camp.”

She and Kitty began walking through the woods. 

“So, was everyone in on the joke?”

Kitty shook her head. “Nope. Just me.” She said, “We were heading back from the hike and I heard you yelling, so I decided to give you a little scare.”

“Which was so nice of you.” Joan deadpanned. She hated having to walk alone with Kitty of all people; it was so awkward! And it only got worse when it became evident that they had no idea where they were going.

“Shouldn’t we have found the clearing by now?” Joan asked anxiously.

“Calm down,” Kitty said, as if she weren’t a big scaredy cat herself. “We’ll get there.”

Joan gave her an unconvinced look, but kept walking because every other direction didn’t look any more helpful than the one they were going on. She pointed her flashlight straight ahead, but it seemed like the light wasn’t as strong as it had been before, like the shadows were devouring the length of the white beam and leaving it dimmed and short. 

Their hike was spent mostly in silence, aside from all the forest noises, which had finally returned. Or, perhaps they’ve always been there. It gets hard to tell after a while.

The two of them duck under brittle, reaching branches and coils of thorns until they break through the thicket and into a small clearing where a cottage as old as time itself sat. It’s swathed by tendrils of ivy climbing their way towards the roof and splotched with patches of emerald green moss. It’s a chalk color, black peppering along its breast. The windows are a deep brown, shoddy paint chipping along the frames’ lips and brow, the very age of the cottage showing in its deterioration. Strings of small bones and clumps of fur and feathers dangle from branches and carvings of snakes with gemstone eyes guard the trees around the property.

And—

There’s light coming from inside.

It’s barely there. Just the occasional flicker, a warm orange seeping through the windows and bathing the frosted, overgrown grass that sits along the ground against the wall of the cottage outside. 

Kitty furrowed her brows, then glanced at Joan, who had her head tilted slightly in confusion. She’s looking at the house as if she’s expecting it to start talking and give her answers of its history.

“We definitely didn’t go the right way.” Kitty said helpfully, earning a glower from Joan. 

“You think?”

Cautiously, they make their way up to the front door, a wide brown-oak thing, with a cut-out panel for a small, cracked glass window. As Joan is pushing down the rusted grey handle, Kitty swore she saw one of the snakes with ruby eyes turn its head to watch them. She instinctively latched onto Joan, who jumped and then shrugged her off.

“Let go,” Joan hissed.

“Sorry,” Kitty said softly. “I thought I saw something.”

Joan frowned and scanned the trees circling the house and then stepped inside, motioning for Kitty to come with her.

“This isn’t trespassing, right? Shouldn’t we have knocked first?” Kitty said, looking around the musty interior.

“Maybe,” Joan said. “But we’re inside now. Oh well. Maybe the person who lives here can help us.”

She shines her flashlight around, revealing racks and shelves of various animal bones and furs. In fact, the entire place seemed to be either decorated by remains or wood carvings.

“What’s that thing where people are into collecting animal skeletons?” Kitty asked quietly.

“Vulture culture,” Joan replied.

“Ah,” Kitty nodded. She took her phone out of her pocket; the bedazzled, hot pink case glittered slightly in the flashlight’s glow. “Well, I’m going to go back outside and try to get some bars to call Jane.”

“What time is it?” Joan asked before she did so.

“It’s two in the morning.” Kitty answered.

The front door remained open for Joan’s own sense of safety and so the sparse moonlight could leak inside. She made the quick trek through the living room, which was adorned with more fur and bones, and made it to a short hallway. She opened a door on the right, which led to a musty-smelling room overgrown with fungus and plant life. She was about to leave and check if the other door was the one where they had seen the light, when she noticed a boot sticking out from behind the bed.

She believed she may have just found the owner of the cabin.

It was a man. Or, at least, Joan assumed it was a man from whatever clothes were left upon the skeleton. She guessed he probably died from a heart attack or something, which would have been a terrible way to go, since he had clearly been all alone.

Just then, the sound of the front door slamming shut jarred Joan out of her inspection. She jumped, whirled around, and opened her mouth to snap at Kitty for doing that, even though she specifically wanted to keep the door open, but something told her not to. The words caught in her mouth and her jaw remained agape for a moment as she listened.

There was a crack of wood from the hallway.

Someone was in the cabin with her.

“Hello?” Called a voice far too raspy and deep to be Kitty’s. It almost sounded like an old man’s. “Anybody in here? I need help!”

Joan backed up against the wall as quietly as she could, not daring to reply.

“Hello?” The man said again, this time with far more desperation. 

The door pushed open slowly, but Joan was still hidden behind it from the way it came out. However, she could still see around the frame and watched as the man came inside, crawling on all fours with its inhumanly long limbs. The skin was wrinkled, molted, and sickly pale with smears of dark red and brown. It was incredibly thin and completely bald, but had scratches and pock marks littering its head. Its bones pressed grossly up against its taut flesh as it climbed onto the bed, grappling on with grotesquely disjointed hands and feet that almost looked like a gibbon’s. It looked down at the skeleton, then, in the gravelly voice, said, “I need help!”

Joan inhaled sharply and the thing snapped its head around to her. Its black, eyeless sockets drilled deep into her soul.

--

“Come on,” Kitty muttered as she watched a text to Jane try to send for the third time. She sighed heavily in annoyance, but that feeling was quickly whisked away by a jolt of fear when the door slammed shut behind her. She jumped and spun around, then narrowed her eyes at the doorway. “Wow. I was barely even being loud. But I expect no less from the MD who gets mad at every little thing!”

She turned away, not wanting to have her back to all the snakes. She continued to try and send a text until the door behind her suddenly swung open loudly and Joan came sprinting out.

“Kat!!” Joan yelled. “Run!”

“What?!”

Joan grabbed her arm as she ran by, pulling her along. She quickly fell into pace, and the two of them raced through the underbrush, getting whipped by ivy and branches and thorns as they went along. They stopped, eventually, to catch their breath. 

“What’s wrong?!” Kitty exclaimed through pants.

“There’s...someone out here with us.” Joan said bluntly with a wince. “Not one of our friends. Just please tell me you got a hold of Jane and know where to go.”

“No,” Kitty shook her head. “Wait- what do you mean ‘someone’?”

Joan began walking again. “I-I don’t know, honestly. Someone came into the house or was already inside, I’m not sure, but I was someone. Or something…”

Kitty swallowed thickly. At first she had been thinking Joan was just messing with her to get revenge for earlier, but Joan looked genuinely terrified. She kept looking over her shoulders and shining her flashlight around everywhere and anxiously fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Something had really frightened her.

“Like...a man?”

“I don’t know!” Joan said. “I- I can’t describe it. You would have to see it to know what I mean.” She fell into a moment of nervous silence. “I just want to get out of these stupid woods…”

“Me too,” Kitty agreed. “Anything is better than this.”

“Eh. I can think of a few things.”

“I just wished Jane was here…”

Joan set a hand on her shoulder. “Me too.”

Kitty smiled slightly, despite the circumstances. She looked back down at her phone to see that the message was still trying to send.

“Let me see,” Joan said and Kitty handed her phone as she spoke again, “KAT!!!”

Except it hadn’t come from beside her.

Kitty whirled around to see Joan running through the dark trees. Her face was ghostly pale and dotted with sweat along the brow. Her storm grey eyes were wide with peril. The words she screamed sent Kitty’s entire world come crashing down on top of her.

“THAT ISN’T ME!!”

Kitty turned in time to watch the thing at her side disappear into the underbrush. Her jaw fell open, her breath catching in her throat as she was seized by terror. She had let it touch her. It had slipped into her life so easily and she had no idea. 

What was it planning on doing if Joan hadn’t shown up?

“Kat, Kat, hey,” Joan is in front of her, shaking her shoulders frantically. She clearly didn’t know how to calm someone in the midst of a panic attack. “Listen, I know you’re freaked out, but we have to go.”

She grabbed Kitty by the wrist and began running. Kitty stumbled along behind her, but managed to keep a steady pace, even with her rising horror.

“Joan-” She choked out as they sprinted through the trees. “Joan, what the fuck?”

“I-I-I don’t know!” Joan cried. “One moment I was alone in the cabin and then the next, that thing is there! I-it knocked me out, I think, and took my- AHH!!”

Joan cut herself off with a cry of pain and the loud clanging of metal as she’s suddenly yanked to the ground. Kitty screamed, too, at the sudden outburst and skidded to a halt. In the dim moonlight, she can see Joan writhing on the ground, sobbing in obvious distress.

“Joan?” Kitty whispered fearfully. “What’s wrong?”

“S-something’s got me-” Joan rasped. “Something’s-” She howled loudly.

“Is it the thing?” Kitty asked, but her only answer is a sharp whine that morphs into a sob. Slowly, she turned on her phone, which had scratch marks engraved into the glass from the creature, and activated the flashlight app. She couldn’t tell if what she saw in the light was worse than the monster or not.

A bear trap. Clamped around Joan’s left leg, just above the ankle. Joan’s left hand gripped at the limb tightly, slightly over where the metallic teeth bared into her flesh. One sporadic tremor was all it took to send new currents of torture up her leg. And, this time, there was no stifling her tormented scream from ripping out of her throat. Now, both hands were clutching at the appendage, trying as the might to lessen the pain. Of course, it did little to no good.

“Oh god,” Kitty whispered. “Oh god, oh god, oh god…!” She was beginning to panic, spiraling all over again. Joan caught attention of this growing anxiety attack through her own haze.

“No!” She snapped. “You don’t GET to freak out! You don’t have this fucking thing attached to your leg! You need to be the strong one for once!” Her voice wavered treacherously. “Please-”

Kitty sniffled, but nodded. She knew Joan was right- someone had to keep their head on straight, and it would be much harder for the one caught in a bear trap to do that.

She knelt down beside Joan, her knees dipping into a pool of blood spreading out across the dirt. She reached out and cringed when her fingers squelched against the fabric of Joan’s pajama pants, warm liquid seeping through and almost immediately coating her hands. They were numb, quivering as she forced them to venture farther and nearer to the source of her companion’s agony.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Joan muttered. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot! No offense.”

“None taken,” Kitty grunted  as she jammed her fingers through where she could, eliciting a sharp cry from Joan. 

“What the fuck?! WHAT THE FUCK?!” Joan yelled, writhing.

“I’m trying to get it off!” Kitty told her.

She attempted to pry the jaws of the artificial beast from Joan’s leg, but her arms were shaking too much and the torment that seized Joan’s body prevented her from using all her strength; all of it was quickly being stolen away in both of them. Before she could get the teeth more than an inch away, the slickness caused it to slip from her grasp and bite right back to where it was originally. Just like that, they were back at square one.

“M-maybe I can break it off?” Kitty stammered.

“Try,” Joan begged. She leaned back and laid down, clawing her hands at the dirt and ripping at the grass to try and cope with the waves of agony washing over her. Tears were falling freely from her eyes.

Kitty began to search the perimeter of the clearing, being mindful of other illegal traps laid out- bear traps, fox traps, snares, cages. She weaved around them carefully, scanning the ground until she found a few big and pointy rocks and some sturdy-looking sticks. She gathered them all, willing to try each of them until one worked.

“Listen,” Joan slurred as she made her way back over. “We both hate this. In fact, I hate it more because I’m the one with a bear trap on my leg. So-” Then, she went snow white.

“Joan?” Kitty said worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Kat, don’t move.” Joan whispered slowly. “I know we have our differences, but I need you to trust me. Whatever you do, don’t move.”

Kitty obeys, freezing in place. She held the rocks and sticks close to her chest, staring into Joan’s eyes and not daring to look at anything else. Bile was rising in her throat, not because of her mounting fear, but because of the sickly sweet smell of cadaverine emanating from the figure beside her.

“I can’t believe I finally found you both!” It said with Jane's voice. “I’ve been looking all over. I was so worried.”

A hand with long, spindly fingers comes up to rest on Kitty’s shoulder. Kitty squeezes her eyes shut, tears slowly rolling down her face as she barely suppressed a whimper.

“I was so worried.” It said again, using Anne’s voice.

Joan is perfectly still, not even feeling the pain of the bear trap anymore. She watches as the thing’s head twitches sporadically before finally stopping and staring directly at her, wearing Aragon’s face.

“You two know better than to run off like that.”

That’s when Kitty screamed. Unable to take it anymore, she darted left and ran for the trees. The thing went after her, and Joan could only lie there and watch as it lunged at her, latching on and throwing her to the ground, where it began shredding her face and burrowing into her back and peeling off her skin until she stopped screaming. Then, with the young queen’s flesh draped around its neck like a scarf, it crawled over to Joan. She didn’t move as it pressed its nails into her belly and grabbed a hold of the top of her face. She just cried until the Skinwalker stripped her head and she couldn’t cry anymore.

------

Kitty’s eyes snapped open- she’s barely able to breathe. Her hands immediately begin to feel all over her body- her face, her stomach, her leg. Then, she’s catapulting out of her tent, stumbling over it momentarily, and wrenching herself outside.

It was morning. Pale sunlight was filtering through the trees overhead. Birds were singing happily. Everyone seemed so calm, so at peace, while she stood breathing heavily and sweating. Jane looked at her worriedly.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” She asked. “What’s wrong?”

“N- nothing…” Kitty said, spotting Joan sitting by the dying fire with her knees to her chest. “I’m fine.”

She walked over to Joan and sat beside her. The music director’s face is very grey.

“They didn’t believe me,” She whispered.

“What?’

Joan looked up at her. “I tried to tell them what happened and they didn’t believe me. They said it was a dream and it wasn’t real. But it couldn’t have been…” She shook her head and rested it back on her knees.

“Yeah…” Kitty said softly.

There was nothing to be done, however. They still had a day of camping, although nothing happened during the next night. That gave them both some reassurance, and they even started believing that it had been some crazy nightmare.

As everyone was driving home, Kitty felt a sting in her back and Joan felt a stab in her stomach. They exchanged fearful looks, then looked out the window and saw it standing between two trees, waving and wearing a horrid mix of their faces.

[iamtheblondestblonde]

Slides and Serendipity

Part 5 (3.6k)

Masterlist

AN: So this one is a little shorter but that’s only because I would’ve had an awkward break otherwise. The next part will be up as well though so enjoy

Warnings: Language at most

I had to know what people were saying about me, so the next morning I asked Mara to give me some pointers but ignored everyone else blowing up my phone. I’d deal with this the same way I’d dealt with the issues before that, by myself.

Yogi could tell that something was up as well, staying close by on our morning walk and then following my every step after that, even nosing at me from time to time.

The pictures of Tyler and I that were circling the blogs were actually kind of cute, even I had to admit that. There was one from the aquarium that I liked most with me leaning against his side while his hand was resting on my lower back, his big fingers easily spanning from one side to the other. I remembered the tingling feeling his touch caused and not for the first time I wished that people had just let us be in peace.

You cursed at the two girls in the front of the video that had caused this entire shitstorm, even if they seemed too oblivious to notice anything around them. They were sitting at the edge of the pool and the camera focused on them before slowly panning out towards the rest of the area. That’s when you could clearly see Tyler with me wrapped around him, his tattoos making him easy to recognize for anyone. I watched myself smile up at him giddily while reaching out to run my hand through his hair before finally joining my arms around his neck.

The video ended then, thankfully not showing our moment that we’d had by the waterfall but the damage was already done. I could see why people thought there was something going on between us, hell from looking at the ‘evidence’ I was almost convinced myself. The hike with the dogs, the clinging to each other in the pool, the constant touching in the aquarium and lastly the shopping run for furniture all pointed towards something more that was hard to dismiss.

“At least I look good in those pictures”, I muttered to myself because if there was one thing worse than having such personal moments displayed to everyone, it would be looking bad so everyone could make fun of me.

After a light breakfast I finally dared to face Instagram. After tapping on the icon the app lagged for a second under the amount of notifications pouring in at once. I hadn’t been on the site since the aquarium and couldn’t believe the amount of traffic on my profile.

My message requests were overflowing and my follower count had climbed up quite a bit in the last 24 hours. People had even started commenting under my more recent posts, asking if I was Tyler’s girlfriend or insulting me.

I couldn’t believe the amount of people interested in this supposed relationship. For a while I contemplated deleting all of those stupid comments but I was pretty sure that new ones would show up anyway so there really was no point.

Some people in my messages were actually concerned about me ‘wasting myself on a player like Tyler’ but most of the messages were just downright mean, some even implying that I was a gold digger. I was pretty confident, especially proud of my body after countless hours at the gym, but reading those messages was harder than I’d imagined. I didn’t respond to a single one but didn’t delete them either.

Thankfully I was used to taking heat and I wouldn’t exactly describe myself as sensitive when confronted with insults. People had given me shit after I took down Flappy Bird and I’d even received multiple death threats, but at least the hate had been about something that I’d done and not because of who I was associated with or the way I looked. I took great pride in my work and people mentioning my name for something else besides my accomplishments hurt my ego more than I’d like to admit.

To distract myself from all this drama I put together everything that I’d bought for the office the day before, enjoying the mindless work for the next few hours, but I knew that eventually I had to face my situation so I looked at my phone.

Tyler had texted me earlier to see how I was doing and Katie had reached out to me as well. My girls had let me know that they’d listen if needed and then proceeded to send cute animal pictures for me to look at, knowing full well by now that I usually preferred to be left alone to deal with my problems.

Before I could even think about what to respond to Tyler, my phone announced an incoming call from Mia. It was weird to hear her voice again after close to three years but we instantly fell back into our old patterns, chatting easily before deciding to grab dinner together tomorrow. I was pretty confident that I could convince her to come work with me and at this point I couldn’t wait to be productive again.

I let everyone know that I was doing alright and then decided to go on a run, something that always helped me to think.

I changed and put a leash on Yogi, my feet pounding on the pavement soon. I played some music for the rhythm but kept it low so I could clear my head.

Setting one foot in front of the other I tried my best to see the situation from an objective standpoint. It was a fact that the damage was already done and no amount of denying the rumors would stop them if I wanted to keep seeing Tyler. I didn’t want to stop seeing him either, not willing to sacrifice our connection at this point anymore.

The run had the intended purpose and I soon came to multiple realizations.

Tyler was a famous pro athlete which meant that him and media attention were kind of a package deal and maybe, just maybe I should just get over my bruised ego. As I kept thinking about the issue at hand I realized that I kind of had no other option than to put up with the shit coming at me.

I pushed myself until I felt like my lungs weren’t getting enough oxygen and then circled back to my house at a slower pace, basking in the runner’s high to plan out the rest of the day before showering and getting to work.

I’d realized that Katie was probably the most suited to give me some tips about my current struggle so I called her. She didn’t answer at first but then she called back as I was pulling out ingredients for some lemon cakes, suddenly in the mood for some baking.

“Sorry I didn’t see you calling, we just got back from this team get-together. Tyler was deep in thought all afternoon and kept checking his phone by the way”, she greeted me and I smiled at her attempt to make me feel better. I didn’t like him not being in a good mood because of me but it showed that he cared at least.

“Yeah about that, I need some advice from you…”, I started and then asked how she dealt with people thinking that they had the right to judge her based on her relationship with Jamie. I knew that she had a private Instagram profile now and while that might deter some hate, I guessed that she probably still got lots of stupid comments.

Going private was not an option for me, as I used my media presence to pull in new jobs even if most of my posts had nothing to do with my work.

“I know me saying just ignore it is stupid because it seems impossible, but trust me it isn’t. It also doesn’t help that people think you’re with a player that has one of the biggest fanbases among the league. People probably already looked at your profile as soon as he started following you, some are that obsessed”, she said and I flinched at the thought of people following Tyler’s every move to this extent.

“Do you not care at all that people basically treat you as an accessory to Jamie?”, I asked her the question that had been bugging me all day.

“I try to look at it differently. At hockey events I’m simply there to support him and I’m more than willing to take a step back in those cases. For everything else you just have to remember that while the fans may only focus on him, you’re the most important person to him so it doesn’t really matter what everyone else thinks”, she explained and I understood what she was trying to say, even if our situations were different.

She told me about how she struggled with the attention at first, something I at least had some experience with. Only now it was for a different reason but I decided to just ignore that fact, drawing from years of practice at ignoring insults.

“You’ll actually get a lot of nice messages too because hockey has really supportive fans and those are always great to read. If I were you I wouldn’t delete the stupid messages though, new ones just keep coming either way. Don’t give the haters the time of your day and just let them pile up in your requests. Sometimes I respond to the nice ones but mostly I enjoy them in silence, that’s up to you though”, she said and I decided that I’d probably handle things the same way. I had to check my requests for work opportunities but I could just skip over everything else.

“You just have to stay calm amidst all of the crazy stuff. Things will get even worse when you two officially start dating so be prepared”, she continued and I couldn’t help bun notice how she said when, not if but I didn’t correct her.

“Thanks for everything Katie. I kind of reached that way of thinking over the course of the day but it still feels good to hear it out loud”, I sighed as I finally put the cake into the oven.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ve all been there before and supported each other through the ups and downs. By the way, some other better halves and I are going out on Saturday, just the girls, and your presence has been requested as well.”

I debated her offer for a second, knowing full well that I wasn’t a ‘better half’ like the rest of them but ultimately decided that I needed to make new friends either way.

“Of course I’ll come, thanks for asking. Just text me when and where.”

We continued talking for a while but then she had to leave because Jamie wanted to start on dinner. I decided to finally talk with Tyler and texted him to see if I could come over.

Tyler: Of course, I’m in the backyard with the guys so bring Yogi too if you want

He then proceeded to text me the code to his front gate, which surprised me. It wasn’t the code to his house but a big step nevertheless. I decided to bring along some lemon cakes and then made my way over, Yogi excitedly pulling ahead.

I entered the code and made my way around the house towards his backyard. Tyler hadn’t noticed me yet and I could see him spitting something into a bush.

“Well that’s mildly disgusting”, I announced my presence flatly and he jumped a little before turning towards me. As soon as I let Yogi off his leash he ran over to Gerry, greeting his new best friend before chasing him around the yard.

“Sorry, bad habit”

“I think you just mispronounced ‘addiction’”, I commented, knowing exactly that chewing tobacco wasn’t any better than smoking it. I reached up with my free hand to hug him and reveled in the feeling of being wrapped in his arms. It had started to cool down already but he was radiating heat through his t shirt.

“I brought a piece offering and don’t worry, it’s diet-friendly”, I said, holding out the box for him to take.

“Why would you need to make a peace offering?”

He looked at me with his eyebrows crinkled in confusion, a look that made him look young and innocent.

“Because I shut you out and basically ignored you all day”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, I know it’s kind of a lot to be caught up in this shit so I don’t blame you for needing some time to sort everything out. If anyone needs to say sorry it’s me for dragging you into this.” He looked at me sheepishly, lifting his snapback to run his hand through his hair before putting it on backwards.

“It’s definitely been a crazy week since we met”, I admitted with a small laugh but I wasn’t mad anymore. It would take some getting used to but I was willing to try.

“Has it really only been a week?”, he asked and I knew exactly what he meant. So much had happened already and I was feeling closer to him that I should after just seven days but yet here we were.

“Are you hungry? I was about to make dinner.” I gave him a skeptical look that made my doubt in his cooking skills, or lack thereof clear.

“Hey I know how to feed myself. I’m not as good as you but I get by with a few easy standard meals”, he protested and I had to laugh at the cute pout he was now sporting.

“Lead the way then. I’ll watch you and we can have the cakes for dessert.” At least one part of dinner was safe that way.

I watched him prepare some pasta and was baffled when I discovered that he barely used any spices, despite having a full spice rack in his pantry. With a huff I grabbed some of them and then proceeded to explain to him when to use what, the pasta smelling more delicious by the minute.

“This tastes like an entirely different meal”, he exclaimed after I was finally satisfied with the result. He really had a lot to learn but at least he was enthusiastic about trying new things.

“I’ll make a cook out of you yet but it is a mystery how you could survive up to this point by yourself”, I teased and he laughed.

“That’s thanks to the nutritionists that supervise us, otherwise I’d eat like shit all the time.”

Tyler loved the lemon cakes, explaining that they were ‘just the right amount of sweet’, which was due to the apple sauce I’d used in place of regular sugar.

We settled on the couch with the dogs surrounding us, some sports show quietly playing in the background. He was spread out on his back and I was tucked into his side, my head resting on his shoulder. I was glad that it didn’t take a lengthy conversation for him to understand my point of view on the situation, that certainly made things easier. As if he was reading my thoughts he said:

“You know we can talk about what happened. The fans are a big part of my life and I know that they can go a little overboard sometimes but I can’t change that. I’m still sorry that people are giving you shit now though.”

“Really it’s okay. I think I just needed to wrap my head around things. I get that the attention and you are a package deal and if having haters is what it takes to keep you around, I’ll gladly do it.”

He smiled softly and opened his arms for me to fully snuggle up against his side, his arm now wrapped around my back.

“I’m glad that you’re willing to put up with it”, he murmured against my head and I smiled. We’d only just met and yet here we were. I’d never felt anything like this before, although to be fair I hadn’t really tried either. Besides the obvious attraction that was between us, there was also something deeper. He didn’t just make me happy, he understood me without needing long conversations or years of friendship beforehand.

Every moment I spent with him I could feel my resolve against not sleeping with him weaken. He’d been nothing but sweet to me but while I deemed myself a good judge of character I knew that one week wasn’t enough time. We needed to be stable enough for a friends with benefits situation to not get awkward or we both had to want something more. Until I wasn’t sure where we stood there simply couldn’t be any sex, as hard as it may be sometimes.

The show was showing some football highlights and I soon grew tired of watching. Despite having lived in the States for quite a while now I still couldn’t understand the obsession with it. The games were slow and too long and there were too many commercial breaks in my opinion. I didn’t follow any teams and the only reason I regularly watched the Super Bowl was because of the parties and the food.

“This shouldn’t be allowed to call itself football, their feet rarely touch the ball. It should be throwball or something like that”, I huffed and I could feel Tyler’s chest rumble with laughter beneath my cheek. As a German there was only one football in my life and it was the one that was actually played with feet.

“Throwball sounds ridiculous.”

“Well football is a little ridiculous in itself so it would be fitting.”

“You should be glad that I’m Canadian or otherwise I would have to kick you out for insulting America’s favorite sport.” I knew that he wouldn’t do it either way, his arms wrapped so tightly around me that I wouldn’t be able to leave even if I wanted to.

“I’d like to see you try”, I teased and lifted my head to stick out my tongue at him.

“Are you sure you’re 25? I’m thinking more like five.”

“Five and a half actually if you have to ask.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m hilarious and you know it.”

Now he was actually trying to push me off the couch but I just wrapped my leg around his thighs and held on tightly so he had to try a different approach. I didn’t expect him to pick me up before throwing me back town and moving to hover over me however. I didn’t even get the chance to resist before he grabbed both of my hands in one of his. His other arm was boxing me in and he had now effectively rendered me defenseless below him. At this point our giggles had turned into pants, his probably from the effort of throwing me around and mine because I loved the way he was manhandling me.

I looked up to him through my lashes, my thoughts going to places I’d sworn I wouldn’t let them wander to anymore just minutes earlier. He looked down at me with an unreadable expression and I would’ve given anything to know what he was thinking in that moment.

For a few seconds neither of us moved but then the moment was ruined by Gerry, who probably wanted to be a part of the action, licking Tyler’s face.

“Ew dude what the fuck?”, he exclaimed, sitting up to push the dog away before wiping the slobber off his face. Now I had to giggle at his exasperated expression and moved to sit up as well.

“I should probably go either way, I know you have an early practice and it’s gotten kind of late.” I was actually just trying to prevent myself from jumping him but he didn’t need to know that.

“Here put my sweater on, it’s gotten pretty late and I don’t want you to get cold on the way home.”

He pulled off his sweater and I really tried not look at the skin that was exposed as his t shirt rid up with it but my horny brain caused me to fail. I didn’t even try to reason with him that a five-minute walk in the cold wouldn’t kill me because I knew that there was no point, once he set his mind on something there was no stopping him. I also really wanted to wear his sweater but I would never admit that.

I put the sweater on and reveled in his scent for a moment before getting up to grab Yogi’s things.

“Look at what you did buddy, you scared her off”, I could hear Tyler say quietly to Gerry and I was pretty sure that that wasn’t meant to reach my ears. A small smile crept on my face but I tried to not let anything on as I reached town to get Yogi ready to go.

“Thanks for dinner Tyler, your attempt wasn’t completely terrible”, I joked as we finally both stood in his front door.

“Thanks for the lemon cakes and the spice tutoring, I definitely still have a lot to learn though. And again I’m really sorry for what people are saying about you, they just don’t know you well enough to know that you’re actually amazing.” I could tell that he didn’t plan on letting that last part slip because his cheeks immediately turned pink which in turn made me blush as well.

I reached up to hug him before wishing him a good night and then making my way home, thoughts running wild until I finally managed to fall asleep.

Part 6 here

[tylerkateowens]

fight

I don’t know how I’m supposed to function properly with Lucy suffocating in an oil drum for the next 10 weeks, so that’s why this stuff has to be written. I hope this helps y’all get through! (Also I haven’t felt the urge to write a fic in years and then BAM! CHENFORD TRASH TRAIN ALL ABOARD)

Also on AO3 | FFnet

fight

Closing in. Everything felt like it was closing in. The air felt thinner with every breath. In and out. In and out. In. Out. The pressure was getting worse, as well. It was getting harder and harder to get a full breath when it felt like one brick after another was being added to his chest. He’d been called in early and pulled aside before roll call. He wasn’t really sure how long ago that was. Two minutes. An hour. Four days. Tim really didn’t know anymore. Lucy was missing, and he couldn’t breathe. All he could see playing over and over was the surveillance of that man putting an obviously drugged Lucy in his trunk. The last time he’d felt this way, Isabel had been dumped in a dumpster and left for dead.

He could vaguely hear Grey trying to speak to him but his ears were ringing, so it couldn’t have been that long since he’d been told. The weight on his chest worsened. Brick after brick after brick. Chen is missing, he slightly made out. Last seen at.. Brick after brick. ...Caleb Wright. He was here.. Brick. Brick. Brick. All stamped with the word guilt. Grey’s words faded again, sounding so far away, Tim’s ears beginning to ring again. She had wanted to go home and sleep. He’d told her no. Brick. Guilt. If they didn’t find her in time, he would...

“Officer Bradford!”

Tim finally snapped to attention. Papers were on the floor and a chair was turned over. When had that happened? He looked at the clock on the wall in Grey’s office. 8:01 AM. Five minutes had passed. Five minutes he’d allowed himself to lose his cool and freak out. That’s all the time he could give it until they found her. He would deal with the rest after.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Grey sighed; he could see plainly on Tim’s face that this was eating at him already. “We’ll find her, Tim. Detective Armstrong is already running down every possible lead.”

Tim nodded, a feeling of numbness beginning to wash over him. “She wanted to go home and sleep,” he laughed bitterly. “She wanted to sleep, and I told her to go have a drink with him. I sent her straight to him.”

Grey came around his desk and placed a comforting hand on Tim’s shoulder. “This is not your fault. This is on Rosalind and Caleb. We will find her, Tim. I promise you that.”

“Thought we weren’t allowed to promise things like that, sir,” Tim replied bitterly. He wanted to be out there running down leads, get his boots on the ground and find Lucy. The walls felt like they were closing in again, exponentially faster than before. He has to get out of this room. “Where is Armstrong now? I need to get out there and help.”

“You can after roll call. Everyone will be on this. Night shift was on it as soon as her car was found.” Tim kicked the other chair in the office, but thankfully Grey didn’t hold it against him. “You’ve trained her well, Tim. We’ll find her.”

-----

Lucy woke to a throbbing pain in her head and her side. It was dark, which she was thankful for, because she was sure she was suffering from the worst hangover of her life. She was in the fetal position, after all. Memories of laughing at the bar came forward, which were the most clear. They began to get hazy after that. Her eyes shot open when the hazy memories of Caleb putting her into his trunk flooded her mind. Lucy didn’t have to be able to see fully to know she was in an oil drum.

She tried. She tried so hard not to lose it. She pounded on the lid, but it didn’t budge. Rocking back and forth, Lucy tried to throw her weight into the side to knock it over. When her rib collided with the side of the drum, she drew in a sharp breath. Her breathing became more rapid after that. She didn’t want to freak out, knowing it was counterproductive and didn’t want to give those monsters the satisfaction. But no matter what she told herself, she couldn’t stop the tears and the scream that spilled from her throat.

Get it together, Boot! Save your oxygen, she heard Tim’s voice in her head. She’d found that recently his had been the voice of reason in her head. We’re coming for you.

Lucy took several deep breaths, steadying herself until she got herself down to six breaths a minute. She could do this; she had to. Help would be on the way, and she had to last until then.

-----

Tim stood by, watching as the techs combed over the car and alleyway behind the bar that Lucy and Caleb had been in last night and into the morning. Cameras showed them leaving at just after 2:30 AM. That was just over six hours prior. He tapped his foot impatiently, staring a hole into Nick Armstrong’s head while he spoke to someone about a small piece of evidence they’d found. There wasn’t much he could do at the crime scene.

“How do we know this Caleb guy isn’t just some random psycho?” Tim called as he walked toward Armstrong, tired of being told to stand aside while everyone else worked. It was his boot that was in danger. “How do we know he’s working with Rosalind?”

Armstrong could tell that he was going to have a hard time keeping Tim in check. He’d told Grey it would be a bad idea to let him out in the field on this one. Too much emotion. “Come have a look,” he said, walking toward his car. “As soon as we confirmed his identity, we searched his place. We found dozens of notes from her. Rolled back the tapes at the prison. They were passed through someone inside through library books. That woman won’t see the outside for a while.”

Tim looked over all the notes in individual evidence bags. He held a handful, and there was still a whole tote full of them. “Any sign of where he might go?”

“That’s what we’re looking for right now.”

Tim huffed angrily, dropping the notes back into the tote with the others. Slamming his fists into the floor of the trunk, he leaned heavily against it. “This is a waste of time, Armstrong. There’s nothing here! They’ve been at this for hours.”

“And they’ll keep looking. These aren’t the only people working this, Bradford. There are people back at the station combing through all the evidence we have there. When I get back, they’ll look over this. There is someone following his car’s movements on the surveillance cameras, trying to find your girl.” Armstrong sighed, moving forward and closing the tote filled with notes. He stacked it on top of another and held it out to Tim. “Take these back to the station. I’ll be there in less than 30 minutes. We will find her, Bradford. I promise.”

Tim was beginning to wonder if everyone would be able to keep their promises. He hoped for Lucy’s sake, they could.

-----

It had to have been hours since she’d woken up, and there was no way to tell how long she’d been there. Lucy could feel her mind starting to go, oxygen deprivation causing the slight delirium to set in. “Stars shining bright above you,” she sang softly. She couldn’t even bring herself to panic at that point, the fear mostly gone, replaced by peace. They weren’t going to find her in time, if at all. “Night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you.’” She prayed it wasn’t Tim that found her. Knowing him, he’d blame himself for her situation, and she couldn’t handle the thought of him finding her dead. She just prayed it came quickly and peacefully. Her breathing began to pick up at that thought. “Birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little…dream of me.” Her eyes were feeling tired, she’d let them close. Just for a minute. Don’t give up, Lucy. She could try and fight it for a little while longer. For Tim.

-----

“Going over this again and again is getting us nowhere while Lucy sits suffocating in an oil drum!” Tim yelled, knocking over a chair as he began to pace. “Put me in a room with them for 5 minutes.”

They found Caleb twenty miles outside of Griffith Park, seemingly unaware of the manhunt after him. He seemed completely surprised to be surrounded by police officers, Detective Armstrong figuring he hadn’t realized the shop sharing the alley with the bar had a working security camera at their backdoor. Grey had sent officers to immediately check the area of the old Griffith Park Zoo, expecting to find nothing, and they had found just that.

“An emotional response is exactly what they’ll want. We have to come at this from a better angle,” Grey said, moving to block the door. “I know you want to beat them to a pulp. We all do. They took one of our own, but that will get us nowhere.”

“He’s right,” Delmonte said, looking at the board with the burial sites marked on it as well as the old zoo. “We have to assume if she’s not at the zoo, she’s already been moved to the third burial site.” He stopped talking for a moment when Tim kicked another chair. The thought of Lucy already being dead and buried made him see red. “Rosalind knows if she doesn’t tell us where it is, she’s going to die. That’s our best angle.”

Armstrong shook his head. “She took us to those grave sites knowing we’d find more than one victim. She won’t tell us until she knows Lucy is dead.”

“Then tell her the deal is fucking off if she doesn’t give up the location right now!” Tim yelled, reeling around, anger vibrating under his skin. “Because every second we sit here arguing is another second Lucy is closer to fucking dying! So pick a plan, and let’s go.” He didn’t even wait for them to move before he was out the door.

“Bradford!”

“I’m going to Griffith Park!” Tim called back, willing himself to move toward the garage instead of where they held Caleb and Rosalind. He would do better out there than in the building with them.

Grey sighed as he looked between the other two men in the room. “I don’t care about your photo op,” he said, looking to the ADA. “Her deal is off if she doesn’t give up the third location right now. Officer Chen may be dead already, but we’re not stopping until we find her. It would take us weeks to cover all of Griffith Park. So do whatever you have to do to get her to talk. Both of you.” Grey followed quickly behind Tim.

-----

Tim wasn’t entirely surprised when the supposed exactly location of the third burial site came over the radio. Rosalind was a meticulous serial killer. She didn’t need to be in Griffith Park to find the burial sites. She’d known exactly where they were. That had been evident after the first new body had been found. She was lucky Tim hadn’t gotten ahold of her, but in the back of his mind, he knew his methods would have never gotten Lucy’s location out of her.

He was very close to the location when the call came over the radio, within a mile in fact. He sped through the trail in his cruiser until he could no longer drive it up the terrain. “I need airship over here. I can barely see a damn thing,” he radioed quickly. His flashlight only lit up so much, and he needed to see the area. Finding disturbed dirt or a black oil drum against a black backdrop would prove more difficult than he was comfortable with.

Other officers showed up, scouring the area with him. The helicopters made flybys ever minute, lighting up the ground and their surroundings, but still, after ten minutes, there’d been no luck in finding her. Tim was beginning to believe that he’d been lied to, until his flashlight glinted off the surface of a shiny metal drum. Tim yelled for backup, sprinting toward the barrel. In his haste, he didn’t think to check for traps or triggers or anything. All that separated Lucy from fresh air was an inch of metal, but Tim couldn’t get the top to budge. That was when he heard it. The slight scratching from under the lid. “She’s alive! I need a crowbar over here now!”

Tim didn’t see who had handed it to him, but he had the lid pried off in seconds. The sound of a loud gasp filled the air, and as a helicopter flew over, lighting up the area for them, there was his rookie, coughing and gasping for air. She was slightly bloody and dirty, but she was alive. He barely took in her appearance before he was reaching in and pulling her up.

“Get me out of here,” Lucy gasped as he pulled her to a standing position, panic settling in her voice. “Get me out. Get me out. Get me out!”

Tim obliged, scooping her up. As he began to set her on the ground, she hung to him like a lifeline, her legs almost giving out from under her from being in such a cramped space for so long. Tim had to hand it to her, though. She wasn’t crying, just trying to breathe as the put distance between themselves and the barrel. “I’ve got you, Boot. I’ve got you.” As Lucy’s feet began to drag, he stopped their walking and looked down at her. “It’s rough terrain down here, Chen. I’m gonna carry you to the ambulance. I don’t need you injuring yourself any more than you are.” When she didn’t say anything, objection or otherwise, he picked her up with ease, carrying her carefully down the trail to where the ambulance would be waiting by his squad car. One thing was for sure: Lucy was safe, and he cared about nothing else.

-----

Tim hadn’t moved from outside Lucy’s hospital room since she’d been moved from the triage area of the hospital. The doctors and nurses were still getting her settled and oxygenated and rehydrated. He didn’t want to get in the way of them taking care of her, as long as he knew she was safe, he’d wait patiently outside. Tim could hear the doctor explaining things to her, muffled through the wood of the door. He hoped it didn’t mean there was any kind of complications

“Bradford,” Grey’s voice came from down the hall. When Tim looked up, Grey was signaling for him to come toward him.

Reluctantly, Tim stood from his chair, glancing in through the small window in the door. Lucy was laying back, tired listening to what the doctor had to say. She would be fine until he got back. “Yes, sir,” Tim said, as he approached his sergeant.

“How’s she doing?”

“Physically? No broken bones. Some cuts and bruises. Nothing too major,” Tim said, glancing back down the hall to see if the doctors had left yet. “Mentally? I don’t know yet. She hasn’t really talked since I pulled her out.”

Grey nodded. “She’s tough, but the department will provide therapy, which I urge you to get her to go as long as she needs. She’ll have mandated therapy sessions, but once those are done, she may need more.” He looked over the officer in front of him. “This isn’t your fault, Tim. You may have suggested that she go out, but she’s a grown woman who can make her own choices. Not to say it’s her fault, either.”

“But I’m her TO, and as much as I didn’t want it to happen, my friend. She takes my suggestions to heart. I knew there was something about him the moment he showed up at the station, but I didn’t go with my instincts,” Tim sighed, seeing the doctors and nurses leave her room out of the corner of his eye. He immediately wanted to head down to see her.

Grey put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “What’s done is done, and in the end, we found her alive. It was the best outcome given the circumstances. You staying here tonight?”

Tim nodded, silently thanking his commanding officer for the underlying permission in his words. “I don’t think she should be alone tonight.”

“Probably not. Give her the station’s best. I’m sure Nolan and West will be by in the morning. I was able to hold them off for the night.” He shook Tim’s hand then. “Make sure to get some sleep. You look like hell.”

Tim chuckled under his breath as he turned back in the direction of her room. When he got to the door, he could see her examining her side through the small window. She had oxygen running to her nose through a cannula and butterfly stitches adorned her hairline. He knocked as he opened the door. “Hey, Boot. How ya feeling?”

“Tired,” Lucy replied, slowly lowering the side of her gown. He’d caught a glimpse of a bandage, assuming she’d been hurt in the struggle of trying to get out. In the ambulance ride to the hospital, they’d found her palms were bruised and nails scraped slightly from her first attempts at freedom. “Sore. But mostly relieved. I was starting to think you all wouldn’t find me in time.”

He wanted to tell her that he would have personally searched Griffith Park himself for days on end, but even he wondered how appropriate that would be. Tim was just coming to terms that he considered her a friend. She was the closest he’d gotten to a rookie in his career, and it wasn’t hard to pinpoint why she was easy to be around. He couldn’t let his thoughts linger there for too long. Dangerous territory.

“But we did… Lucy,” he sighed, moving to sit in the chair next to her bed. “I’m sorry I pushed you to go out that night. If we hadn’t gotten to you…”

Lucy stopped him, holding up her hand, “But like you said. You did. I’m a little worse for wear. Nothing too permanent…”

Tim noticed her trail off, and when she hissed slightly when she shifted in the bed, he stood up, checking on her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…my side.”

The thought hit him like a freight train. She hadn’t hurt her ribs in a struggle. They weren’t broken or bruised. Her side had a bandage on it because that bastard had tattooed her with the date she was supposed to die on. He saw red again and wanted to go back to the station to beat Caleb to a pulp with his bare hands, but he held it together for her. “Lucy, God, I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. I’m sure the department with pay to have that removed. You shouldn’t have to live with that.”

“I’m sure they will, then it’ll be just like any other scar.” Tim could see that the day was starting to catch up with her, unshed tears sitting in the corners of her eyes. He could understand what she was feeling. The thought that you were but hours from death, knowing there’s nothing you can do. It does something to you. “Tim… I really thought I was going to die tonight.”

“I know, Boot. I know,” he said, placing his hand gently on hers. “But you’re okay now.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the tears started to flow down her face and before he knew it, she was openly sobbing. He was sitting on the bed in an instant, hold her to him, letting her use him as an anchor. He understood the feeling, and he wouldn’t judge her for it. “Let it out. I gotcha. You’re safe.” Tim felt her nod against his chest, running his hand up and down her arm as she continued to cry. Her sobs had attracted the nursing staff, but he shooed them away. This wasn’t something they could fix.

Tim wasn’t sure how long they sat there; he couldn’t see his watch from where Lucy was perched against him. Her crying slowly but surely went from sobbing to crying to sniffles before it ultimately stopped. He looked down at her to see that she was finally asleep, and he hoped it was a peaceful one. After his encounter with the virus and watching Pete die in front of him, his nights were plagued with nightmares for a couple of weeks. But Tim would be there for her, just as she had been there for him. Because as much as he continued to hate to admit it, their relationship had moved beyond the TO/Rookie relationship. Friends is how he would label it—the only way he really could. He wouldn’t allow it past that right now. She was his rookie after all, and he had Rachel to think about, one of her best friends.

Letting those thoughts fade away, he pulled away from Lucy, tucking her into the bed carefully, not wanting to disturb her. He moved to the door to turn off the light before finally collapsing on the couch in the room. With the long day weighing his eyelids down, it wasn’t long before the sound of Lucy’s breathing lulled him into a peaceful sleep.

[septembersung]

Okay friends, I can’t resist. Here’s what I spent yesterday and today on.

May I present (drumroll): Generations, chapter 1 (new and improved!)

"The first ship launched at twelve noon a whole day ago and nobody even noticed," someone was saying as Anna-Lucia drifted towards consciousness. "No coverage whatsoever, just business as usual. I'm telling you, they don't take it seriously. It's the answer we've been waiting for."

"You're a fool, Kevin, and you always have been." Leah's voice, old but still steady, held that special note of loving judgment that only mothers can summon.

"Mom's right," George grunted gruffly over his brother's protestations. "If the feds are quiet, it's because they're being competent. Not a good sign."

"Come now!" Kevin's exasperation was so potent Anna-Lucia's eyes snapped open. "I can't be the only one to see what a huge chance this is. Another space race, and the private sector is there first! And he who gets there first, makes the rules. Andy? Don't you see what I mean?"

Andrew's recliner creaked in deep protest as he shifted his solid frame. The squeak and protest of that chair reached far back in Anna-Lucia's memory to the dim recesses of childhood. Her racing heart slowed as full consciousness returned, replacing the cramped and lightless dreams through which she had been wandering. Reality flooded back. Her flight had been delayed - endlessly delayed - the crowds were stifling. And that insufferable airport smell! But it was all behind her now. She was home. Anna-Lucia sank a little deeper into the couch, fondly watching the four shadowed figures around the other three sides of the enormous coffee table.

"The Population Committee will be making their own announcement any day now," her father was saying, his slow, rumbling bass filling the little room. "Mark my words. If StarTech has gone public with this technology without fanfare, it's because of court order, and our dearly unelected Pop Comm will be bursting out the seams to show their hand."

"Just so," Leah said approvingly. "Did you see the live feed?" she asked Kevin. He shook his head. "Well, no reason you should, I suppose, being there in person. There are three channels, as you know, and one is always on the launching grounds. But not that day. It was switched, from exactly eleven a.m. to one p.m., to the rover testing site."

"Which means?" Kevin asked wearily.

"What's the fastest way to get the public's attention?"

"Hint of coverup." George's eyes glittered in the low light. "Smart, that, if there is a gag order. Let somebody else do the announcement."

"But it's been more than twenty four hours, and not even a hint in the news. Not even - I mean, not a single channel," Kevin protested.

"And you're sure it was a life ship?" Anna-Lucia heard herself asking. She sat up, raking a tangle of curls out of her eyes, and reached for her cider mug. Of course - it was stone cold by now.

"Welcome back, my dear." Leah smiled at her. "It's nigh time for coffee, now. "Shall I start some?"

"I can do it, Grandma, you don't have to get up."

"Oh, sit still, child, and let me be useful for once." Leah carefully unwrapped from her many layers of blankets, cinched her robe tighter, and shuffled between chairs toward the kitchen. Her sons watched her go carefully, but her progress was confident and steady.

"Of course it wasn't the life ship itself," Kevin continued, as though there had been no interruption. "That had to be assembled in orbit. But it was unmistakably a shuttle service - dozens of shuttles lifted off simultaneously, we're talking hundreds of people, from grannies to babes in arms. And yet not a whisper anywhere. That doesn't say federal order, to me, but top secret private operation."

"But how did they keep the chatter out of the news?" George asked.

"And why in broad daylight?" Anna-Lucia pressed. "If this is a deliberate, flagrant violation of colonization law, why do it in plain sight? They can't possibly think switching the live feed meant it went unnoticed."

Kevin didn't have an answer for that. Silence swept over them like a tide, and even in the dim light Anna-Lucia could see how tired they looked. Birdsong began to filter in.

"It's best we all get a few hours sleep," Andy rumbled at last. "We're none of us young as we used to be, and it's going to be a long week."

Murmurs of agreement came and the three men stood, stretching and slapping each other on the back. Kevin and George moseyed up the stairs, discussing the prospects of fishing later that day. Andy, not a fat man but tall and broad, looked almost too big for the room as he eased his bulk around the coffee table. He laid a wide, callused hand on Anna-Lucia's dark hair. "Morning, honeysuckle," he said, as softly as his deep voice allowed.

She smiled up at him, her first real smile in weeks, and it felt strained and unnatural against her cheeks. "Morning, Dad."

"Bad trip?"

"I've had worse."

"Not like you, to sleep through such talk."

"Traveling is exhuasting. It'll pass."

"Hope so. Clear skies tomorrow."

Anna-Lucia tweaked the heavy curtain behind her head, letting in the chill blue predawn glow. "Tonight, looks like."

"Good weather for star gazing."

Anna-Lucia squeezed her father's hand between her own. "I'll be ready. Get some sleep, Dad."

"'Night, honeysuckle."

When Andy left, Anna-Lucia sank back against the cushions and draped great-great grandmother's blue and white afghan over her, settling into the stillness. Home. For six whole days. It was too good to be true. The week stretched before her in her mind's eye, long, warm days with nothing to do but sit, sleep, listen to her uncles' friendly bickering, and soak in the sun and the fields. She could almost pretend, here at the dawn of this freedom, she was here to stay.

The stillness of the house was balm to her chafed soul after the constant buzz of the city. No roars of trams and cars, no constant hum of voices, no continual opening and shutting of doors, no continuous press of footsteps, no sirens. Stillness, and birdsong.

The familiar little living room, crowded with its couches and rockers and recliners around the ancient, massive oak coffee table, was like an old friend. Anna-Lucia stretched luxuriously and leaned forward to trace the smooth, familiar wood with her hand. It was cool and silky, worn smooth across centuries. The broad surface was stained a dark, rich color. A deep, angular crack ran its length, nearly end to end. It, too, had had been polished to a shine.

When Leah came in with a steaming mug of coffee and her own dainty china cup of tea, Anna-Lucia was still considering the table, its blunt, rounded edges and four thick legs. She took the mug gratefully and scooted back against the broad cushions, arranging the afghan over her knees.

"Aren't you going to bed, Grandma?"

Leah settled herself securely back in her comfortable chair, covered in layers of blankets. "Oh, no. I rarely sleep more than a few hours at night anymore. I do always nap a little in the mid-morning. These are not such unusual hours for me."

"I used to love staying awake in the wee hours. But it's not - not - so restful, in the city. It never really gets dark there. Or quiet."

"You'll be going back?"

Anna-Lucia looked at her coffee. "I don't have much of a choice."

Leah ignored this. "How is it? The work?"

Anna-Lucia hesitated. "Complicated."

"Don't be daft, child. Of course it's complicated."

Anna-Lucia gripped her coffee tightly. "I'm having trouble."

"Lose a lot?"

"Almost all of them."

Leah nodded, unsurprised. "But you went. Knowing what you'd find."

"I didn't exactly have a choice!"

"There is always a choice," her grandmother said sharply. "You could have placed your own happiness, however temporary it would have turned out to be, over the welfare of this family. And you did not. You made the right choice."

The grandfather clock's ticking stitched the silence together. From her couch, Anna-Lucia could only see its side, ornately carved, lined from top to bottom with vines, flowers, and birds. She listened to the steady ticking, closed her eyes, and matched her breaths to it evenly. Three seconds in; three seconds held; three seconds out. Eventually, as the birdsong grew louder, the tension between them began to melt away. Anna-Lucia opened her eyes and saw, with a guilty lurch, that the tension had all been on her part - Leah's face was watching her closely, deeply lined with worry, her bright eyes kind.

"How have things been, Grandma?" she asked, trying for a smile.

"About the same," Leah replied, smiling easily back. "Your father is forever in the fields, checking and logging and walking fences and vidding the managers in the far corners. New hands, this summer," she added, as if in afterthought, and a chill grew in Anna-Lucia's middle. Government men, then. They were being watched.

"How long have Uncle George and Uncle Kevin been in?"

"George two days, Kevin one - he came straight from StarTech, as you heard. And they'll be leaving early, I'm sure."

"Did everyone come with them?"

"Oh, yes. Rachel and Ashlynn came with the kids as soon as they'd wrapped up at summer school."

"I can't imagine a family reunion in flyover country is high on the list of excused absences from their Prep courses."

Leah snorted. "I'm surprised Ashlynn could be talked into coming at all. But don't you dare repeat that."

Anna-Lucia smiled into her coffee. "My lips are sealed. Is anyone else making it?"

"No word yet."

They were quiet a moment, companionably, listening to the now raucous birdsong. Early morning light had begun to filter in around the heavy curtains without her hardly noticing, but now Anna-Lucia was loathe to open them. The private, safe feeling of this hour, in this room, was precious.

Abruptly, she realized that this was Sunday morning. "Grandma, I hardly thought. But what about Fath-"

"Your father can tell you all about his exploits himself, I'm sure," Leah interrupted smoothly. "I doubt he'll sleep long - though he way he works himself, he certainly ought to..."

Leah chattered on for a moment while Anna-Lucia stared at her. Then ever so slightly, Leah pushed her lips together, a thin, warning line.

The illusion of safety shattered like a fumbled egg. They were listening.

Anna-Lucia stood, setting her barely touched coffee to the side, and flung open the curtains, letting the morning in like a waterfall.

[szopenhauer]

Can you talk on the phone while having the tv/radio on? not really ^^”

Describe your teeth: ugh...

Whats the longest youve lived without electricity? days, maybe weeks, no longer than 2

Name all the types/brands of cigarettes you have tried: RGD blue

What is one thing you stand strongly for? hmm... I’m weak

If you could be the owner of one site what would it be? old polyvore :(  I’d keep it 

What does your doormat say? sadly nothing

What is something you always have in your fridge? light lol

What age can you not wait for? I’m not looking forward to growing older wtf

Name all the drugs you’d never do: I don’t plan to try any illegal substances nor even cigarettes or alcohol

What is the most alcohol you’ve drank in a night? half a mug of absynth while I was on meds that I shouldn’t mix with it :x

What street sign do you find totally pointless? round ones have no points lmfao *dry humor

Do you like water? but drink or what?

Would you ever be a zoo keeper? maybe Do you like the name Mia? it reminds me of Mamma mia and I disliked this movie as I’m not fan of musicals so...  Do you have pictures in your room of your friends and you? just parents and dog, not even grandma’s anymore Would you like to live in Canada? no Do you want to be a mouse? dunno When was the last time you had a date? recently Are you in a poke war on Facebook? it reminds me of Sebastian :x Aren’t penguins cute?  they’re fine Would you rather have your friends at your house or you at theirs? have friends over is cool if not my mother and mess (and covid now too of course) as going out is a struggle  True or false: Life is unfair. sigh... Do you have curtains in your living room? What do they look like? we do, they’re like golden/yellowish/beige 

Are you a fan of Star Wars? huge

Do you hate when people don’t capitilize the beginning of the sentence? I do it all the time True or False: Justin Bieber is gay. he’s married to a female, he was dating a gal before too, it’s unlikely

Are you worried about how much paper and water we use? mhm

Did you ever take a computer class in school? we all had to Would you like to sit around and do nothing all day? mmm :3

Mini skirts, jeans or both? neither Are you good at come backs? better than when I was a kid fo sho! When’s the last time you watched the news? I don’t even remember Do you really think that the number 13 is unlucky? it’s my dad’s lucky number  Personality or looks? personality is 90% + I don’t count sex - just women exclusively Do you ever dance around your room when your by yourself? at times Do you hate the cold? very, brrr How long can you hold your breath for? about a minute? What’s something you seem to run out of often? ... Do you think that there really is someone out there for all of us? not for every human being  Do you think Cookie Monster is cute? it’s alright Do you ever wish you were a bird? yes Have you ever had a dream where you killed someone? I fight a lot of ppl in my dreams Do you ever wish on your eye lashes? I believe they’re sent by those who think about you instead Do you ever make up stories in your head and wish they come true? some of them only Do you look at people in the eyes when you talk to them? usually not when I talk which makes them think I’m lying, I prefer to look them in the eye when I listen  Which is worse: stuffy nose or runny nose? runny nose is worse  Do you think it would be cool to be part of the royal family? it would be easier in some ways, harder in others, guess it could be worthy after all? Do you have to wear a belt with your pants? I don’t own/wear any Do you think your last relationship was a disaster? I’m taken rn True or False : You were born in March false Do you wear hats in the winter? I do, it’s cold

Are you looking forward to the new year? sorta Are you afraid that one day you may get cancer? I know I will Which is worse : Dentist or doctor? doctor

Do you hate when the radio overplays a song? that’s one of the reasons I don’t listen to the radio What’s your least favorite thing that begins with the letter C? chronic illnesses? Do you wish you could walk on water? how would I take a bath then? Which is your favorite symbol : ! @ $ % ^ & * ( ) ? ? Do you like your legs? they’re not the worst Would you rather visit London or Paris? London Twilight or Harry Potter? HP if I have to choose any Do you have a big nose? I heard I do, they were calling me NOSE in middle school Can you rap? nah Do you like the number 4? meh What color is your bike? my push scooter is green ;) Have you ever tried to count the stars? I don’t think so Are you not over someone? apparently as we’re dating 

Have you kissed someone today? not today Have you taken a painkiller today? nope Have you had a nap today? neither If you’re currently in a relationship - do you think it will last? I’m afraid not ;(  *covid, my issues, our differences etc. - everything can fuck it up and probably will I try to enjoy the moment but it will break us hard sooner or later and I’m getting used to the tought even tho she asks me not to give up (I don’t plan to but I worry she might) I’m gonna miss what we have... if this relationship won’t work I’m not gonna look for anybody new ever  What would you wear if you were being taken out to dinner tonight? how fancy? Do you take your Christmas decorations down before or after New Years? after, before my birthday Have you made a large purchase today? no Have you ever had a migraine? it’s a disease, you either have it or not, that’s not just a single headache Have you locked your front door today? my parents are outside muahahaha Have you been awake before sunrise today? noooooooo

Do you normally eat dessert? nope Do you think you could be happy if you had to live with only nine outfits? not during winter Do you watch sunrises? barely ever Do you wake up before the sunrise? when I can’t sleep Do you watch sunsets? not interested

What would you paint on a pumpkin? why not carve? Do you ever imagine you are richer than you are? when planning my dream apartment  Do you ever imagine that you live in an entirely different world? kind of Would you rather change your first name or your middle? I have no middle name, I could add one or change first, whatever Do you wish your last name was more interesting? more like shorter  If you wrote a novel, would you give the characters ordinary names? it varies Do you worry too much? I’m a worrier What’s your favorite leaf color? green Do you wonder if you have super vision? I have a very good vision which is weird knowing how much I read in the past and how long I sit in front of the computer Do you like the smell of autumn leaves? not a fan If you were a singer, what would you sing and write songs about? sad stuff Would you rather be a dancer or a musician? musician

Where do you put your keys when you get home? not gonna tell you

Are you expecting any phone calls or emails? what if I win the contest?...

What does a successful relationship look like to you? success is when ppl die together (I mean not the same time but when they get older together) and not just because they had to, relationship is more than getting used to and coping - it’s happiness out of being together even if everything around is shit, you know what I mean?

What is the best house you’ve ever lived in? I’ve never moved

Do you look in the mirror before you leave the house? if I need to

Have you ever seen someone quit their job in a dramatic way? nope?

What was the last email you received? spam

Do you know someone who speaks without a filter? less filters than most but it also depends on who they’re talking to and what about

Are you the youngest, middle or eldest child in your family? youngest

What’s something you’ve been meaning to do but keep putting off? I’m a procrastinator so don’t even ask

What’s the first thing you check on your phone at the start of the day? fb messenger

[flockdynamics]

Bird cages!

HOKAY, SO.

I’m finally going to upgrade the ‘tiel cages in the next couple of months! (Once I paint my room and finish some other things around the house.) I have spent a LOT of time looking at cages (both online & in person) over the last days/weeks, and I’ve mostly narrowed it down to these two. 

So I’m looking for input! If anybody has any experience with either (or similar ones)! (FWIW, I think I read every review on every site of like a million cages--every cage out there seems to have SOME bad reviews about the quality, but I tried to choose ones where MOST of the bad reviews were based on user error or personal preference things.) Keep in mind I need two, because Keuka & Tioga do not like each other and can’t be housed together.

A&E Elegant Flight Cage

Pros: good size (there are three sizes of this--the one I’m looking at is the medium one, 32″W x 21″D x 61″H); seems very sturdy; nice looking; nice stainless steel food cups; nice shelf. I was able to check out the smaller version at a local bird store and I liked it. (ALSO, a potentially important note: Wayfair has their “own brand” of bird cages, and has this exact cage for only $205. I’m like 95% sure it IS the A&E cage, just rebranded (since it’s not like Wayfair actually MANUFACTURES their own stuff). So I could potentially get this for only $205.)

Cons: Those gaps above & below the door and by the food dishes are weird? Probably not big enough to be a problem for tiels, but? I read one single review about screws sticking out near the food cups (no one else seemed to have this problem though)?

Avian Adventures Loro Flight Cage

Pros: AA has probably the best reputation of all of the brands other than Kings; I like their no-screws approach to cage assembly (this is a big pro, actually--Gwen’s cage is like this, and I LOVE how I was able to pop it apart to store it and then pop it together in like 30 seconds...not that I will probably need to disassemble these much/if ever, but hey); the cage bars are supposed to be extra heavy-duty (also a big plus; I HATE flimsy cage bars with the fiery passion of a thousand suns). Would fit a little better in my space width-wise (though a little worse depth-wise, so that’s kind of a toss up--it’s 30W x 24D x 72H). Comes with a cool perch, I think.

Cons: More expensive--most places it’s $300 or more. The cheapest I found was for $260ish, which isn’t terrible, but still. I don’t like the look of this one as much--it looks bulky (mainly the legs, but also the square-ness. also the top roof thing, but that’s removable at least); I don’t like that the cage can’t detach from the legs; I’ve heard reviews that the casters are cheap (but maybe that’s changed?); the shelf underneath seems like it’s too high up to really be useful (for my tall food containers/plastic storage bin). I wasn’t able to check this one out in person, which always makes me iffy. This is a little thing, but I read reviews about the cups fitting REALLY snugly into the holders and being hard to get out--that would be annoying.

If you have any other suggestions (that I somehow haven’t seen/considered), also feel free to recommend! My basic requirements (and the reasons I chose the above ones) are under the cut, so I don’t completely kill everyone’s dash.

-Size (big). If I’m going to spend hundreds of dollars upgrading them, I want it to be significantly bigger than their current cages, not just a little bigger. Ideally something that could be classified as a “flight cage.” That said, with the space I have, the max width I can go to would be about 32″ (and 30 or 31″ would be preferable) and I wouldn’t want it to be much deeper than 23-24″ (21″ish is preferable). I need two of these, remember.

-General design things. Obviously, these are cockatiels, so bar spacing no more than 1/2 inch. Big enough door that they want to come out. Enough horizontal space (more important than height, though obviously there’s only so much I can do there).

-Small design things, like: most of the brand-name flight cages for smaller birds apparently (like this A&E one, which I was heavily considering for a while) don’t have food-access doors?? Wtf?? While 99% of the time I’m letting them out when I’m changing their food anyway, for the 1% of the time someone else is watching them and needs to change their food/water without them getting out, food access doors are pretty crucial. So that’s a deal-breaker. (As an aside, aren’t big flight cages like this often used for birds who AREN’T tame? Why the HECK would THESE cages be ones that you don’t put food access doors on??)

-Also small: I would prefer one with a shelf underneath! This isn’t as much of a deal-breaker, but I WOULD def prefer one with a shelf big enough to fit their food containers/the plastic tub with their blankets & supplies. (And this did help me choose between otherwise comparable cages.)

-Brand name/sturdy/safe. There’s nothing I hate more than a flimsy cage. That’s part of the reason I’ve waited so long to upgrade them--their current cages are small, but SUCH good quality (they’re Hoei, a Japanese brand you can’t find in the States anymore). Amazon has some cheap cages from brands like Mcage and YML that have some really good reviews, and I considered them, but...they also have several reviews about them being “fine, but you get what you pay for, etc.). I debated, but in the end decided that if I’m investing in new cages, I’d rather just invest in high quality ones. So I’m mostly looking at A&E, Avian Adventures, King’s, Prevue (though Prevue is probs my least fave of these), etc. 

-Related to the above, sturdiness again. I really liked the shape/dimensions of the flight cages like the A&E one without food-access doors, but the bars I think are too thin. My tiels aren’t going to bend the bars, that’s not what I’m worried about, but I like to be able to have sturdy, heavy things in there, like java wood or concrete perches, without snapping the bars. Again: flimsy cages are the bane of my existence.

Things I Do Not Want:

-Hagen Vision Cages. Unpopular opinion time! I hate them! No real shade at the cages themselves, I know a lot of people have them and really like them. I just personally do not like the way they look. And the ones I assembled back when I worked at the pet store I Did Not Like. They were frequently broken

-Double cages that stack on top of each other. There are some really nice cages like this, but I don’t like the idea of one bird being essentially on the ground? I know my birds, and they would not be a fan. Also, I know my birds and, even though they do not like each other and can’t be housed together, Tioga would FLIP if she couldn’t see Keuka. (I don’t mind the side-by-side ones with a divider like this--that’s actually what I was PLANNING to get originally. But then I realized that most of those have the same issues as the regular large flight cages of that type--thin bars & no food access doors.)

[goldeagleprice]

Letters to the Editor (Apr. 17, 2017)

Mint needs years to win back its customers

Declining sales at the U.S. Mint are the result of a combination of factors.

If a survey were taken, the Mint might be surprised by the number of collectors who will no longer purchase coins directly from the Mint.

Ordering problems, inability to purchase desired coins, preference given to bulk buyers, unpredictable ordering periods, high premiums on items offered, and lower prices on the secondary market have been frequent complaints in recent years.

As an example, note how often “Product Currently Unavailable” appears on the website. Who wants to waste time checking the site daily to see if the product is now available? Either the product is sold out, or sell it to your customers. When a customer sees “sold out,” that event represents a lost sale.

This year, the Mint is introducing a new mistake: the Cancer Awareness gold commemorative contains only 85 percent gold. In reducing the gold content from the traditional 90 percent and changing color to pink, gold bugs may not buy it. If the coin’s value drops to bullion melt, coin dealers won’t like seeing a coin requiring a new computation to figure intrinsic value and offer less for their trouble.

In reducing the percent of gold content, the Mint is debasing its product. In the long run, this cannot be a good marketing strategy, as the mints of other countries continue to sell coins with greater precious metals content.

Until the Mint comes up with another idea that brings in new collectors, like the state quarters program did, sales may lag.

The Mint will need years to rebuild the customer base and regain the trust of collectors who felt mistreated in the past. Customer retention has not seemed to be a priority. The business model may need to change.

Bruce R. Frohman Modesto, Calif.

  Dime rolls out of change machine instead of cent

Know your money. Yesterday at a major grocery store, my change came to $1.01. The cashier, also a manager, gave me my receipt, coupon and $1 bill. I scooped, out of the coin cup dispenser, a dime; not a score from the customer before me. I saw it roll into the cup. I held my opened hand out to the cashier. A dime instead of a cent. Had someone loaded the machine wrong? I got the impression that this happened before. Keep watching your change.

Name withheld Yucca Valley, Calif.

Philadelphia cent back to having no mintmark

I thought the new cent for 2018 from Philadelphia Mint would not have the “P” on it because last year was special. I may have read some of your readers writing they’ve found 2018 cents with no “P” on it.

Sorry this is minutiae.

Anyway, read with some interest your reader from Queens (New York City) who said new coins don’t get to NYC readily. I was really surprised by that, having lived most of my early life in New York. Boston’s not that much better, or maybe worse!

Name withheld

Editor’s note: You are quite right. There is no “P” on the Philadelphia cent in 2018. The “P” on the 2017 was to mark the 225th anniversary of the founding of the U.S. Mint. It was a one-year deal.

Club service includes buying new coins in bulk

In response to your recent Blog question of March 19, 2018, in The Buzz of “Who is buying Kennedy halves clad bags and rolls from the Mint?” I wanted to answer as follows.

The Garfield Heights Coin Club offers a terrific service to its members. The club purchases the Sac dollars and Kennedy halves (and previously Presidential dollar) coins in bulk from the Mint and then sells the coins to its members at our meetings for double face value. This is a terrific service and benefit to the club members.

The club also annually purchases the Red Book in bulk and offers them for sale to its members that order them. This way the members that are interested in purchasing these can keep up their sets or their personal library of reference books.

Also club leadership and other club members frequently bring in back issues of Numismatic News, auction catalogs and reference books and give them away to members who are interested. This all promotes the hobby in a very cost effective way.

Truth be told, although I am probably the biggest opponent to investing in modern-day clad coins, there is still the collector in me who likes to keep up my sets, and although double face is a higher premium than if I were to buy these coins in bulk, I am only buying one or two coins, so it’s not a big outlay to be able to fill holes in my book.

Some members actually buy whole rolls at a time, because it’s still more convenient, and this keeps up their roll sets. In any case, these are some of the benefits of joining a coin club and networking with a great fun group of people that are dedicated to the wholesome hobby of coin collecting.

Robert Matitia Garfield Heights Coin Club member Ohio

Another location in North Carolina gets new cents

I received my first 2018 cent in change from an automated checkout line at my local supermarket on Monday, March 5. Bob Klippstein Greensboro, N.C.

  Copper rounds worth holding for five or 10 years

Some time back, I had inquired about copper rounds. You advised me to use caution in looking at copper rounds. The same goes for silver rounds, from what I remember.

In early January, I did get seven rounds for $11. Not a bad purchase for them. The show was here in Sherman, Texas. On April 7, a show will be in nearby Paris, Texas. Hopefully, I will be able to get more copper rounds at similar pricing. This is a good deal to get and sit for five to 10 years on them. A few may be had for gift giving.

I hope to be correct in making a small profit. With silver at about $16.60 or less per ounce, it may still be a bargain, with paying a spot price on it. Just an observation on my part.

Gary Kess Sherman, Texas

  World has changed and hobby changed with it

I recently restarted my subscription to your nice magazine and was pleased to see you continue as editor. In my 22nd year of retirement, my numismatic interests remain. However, my days of accumulation have ended. In fact, my choice material is gone.

Now I enjoy the “sport” from a distance. Even the piece of the industrial world I served while employed has virtually disappeared.

The March 6 “Viewpoint” by Richard Francis caught the real spirit of numismatics, in my feeling. Registry Set building, multiple crack-outs and other similar moves were not the spirit of my game. Numismatics is more than that.

It is history, it’s educational, and much more. It can be a lifetime of enjoyment with good people of similar interests.

If memory serves, we shared time in the plastics world. Unfortunately, I was not aware of your obviously strong attachment to numismatics. An old saying goes something like this: “I do not regret what I have done. I regret what I have not done.” I wish we could have shared stories.

Name withheld

  Time to mint circulating $25 or $50 silver coin

Just read the article (NN March 6, 2018) “Little notice paid to tenth-ounce gold.” The article should have been titled, “How many modern coins does someone want to collect or can afford to collect?” Maybe it is a good thing that gold and silver coins are not selling like hotcakes. Maybe, just maybe, they will sell so few that modern coins may be worth collecting again someday.

Now my reason for writing is regarding the 244,890 proof silver Eagles that were reported as sold. Considering that the proof Eagle sells for $55, which is more than three times the spot price of silver, what would you expect? Yes, the proof silver Eagle is a beautiful coin, and while many collectors buy them, it makes little sense to buy more than one – not for $55, anyway. For many years, many collectors purchased four or more. It’s just not happening anymore. Again, the proof silver Eagle is a beautiful coin. But so is the bullion silver Eagle. Compare $55 to $20.

Make no mistake about it, the 21st century U.S. Mint produces a quality product, especially for gold and silver. So much so that I would say over 90 percent of those 244,890 proof coins could be graded Proof-69 or -70. Very few of these proof Eagles will ever be melted or damaged. There will always be over 200,000 quality coins. And the proof silver Eagle will always be worth the price of bullion.

Similar analogies can be made for other silver and gold coins being sold by the Mint. The Mint needs to jump start interest in sales. Why not kill two birds with one stone? Produce a silver coin for collectors that could be used for circulation. Mint a $10, $20, $25 or even a $50 silver coin and sell it to collectors for a net profit to the Mint of $10 to $15 per coin. At least the coin will always be worth face value

The Mint will make a good profit on each coin. The collector will never be hurt that badly. And it may help coin circulation. Try it for one or two years. Something needs to be done, or the hobby will revert back to only the hobby of kings and queens.

Dom Cicio Groveland, Fla.

  Gold wins in new race with Bitcoin

A question was asked, “Would I rather invest in gold or Bitcoins?”

I would go for the gold, simply because gold has been around since money was created and always had high value throughout history. Even though ancient coins don’t have a stated value, their gold content has a scrap/melt value.

At the time of this writing, gold is up around $1,300+ an ounce. More modern coins have a stated face value, which could be honored should the melt fall greatly to below the coin’s face value.

I’m not sure if there are physical (real) Bitcoins or the composition of one (if it exists at all). But the Bitcoin is a virtual item where two or more parties agree to a value. (Almost like the current fiat money used today?) Any Bitcoin minted on metal is probably on base metal, and no melt value other than whatever scrap value that coin is stamped on. Even though a Bitcoin may be worth hundreds or thousands of dollars by its holder, it’s not worth anything to me. The value of Bitcoins can go either up or down – to nothing.

I’ll take a nice solid gold coin any day. It’s something I can see and hold.

Bill Tuttle, Cleveland, Ohio

  Too many different labels on slabs with same coins

About six months ago, I did a count of all the different ways Numismatic Guaranty Corporation offered the same 2017 silver Eagle. I think the number I found came to 14.

All the coins were the same, but the slabs were different. White Label, Black Label, Brown Label, Silver Foil, Purple Heart, Signed, First Strike, Early Strike, First Day of Issue, 225th Anniversary, and on and on. This is just getting way too crazy!

The third-party graders should stick to grading and not creating collectible slabs for every day of the week, signed by everyone and their brother, to celebrate all occasions under the sun. Just where will it end??

Ken Freeze Martinez, Calif.

  This article was originally printed in Numismatic News. >> Subscribe today.

  More Collecting Resources

• The 1800s were a time of change for many, including in coin production. See how coin designs grew during the time period in the Standard Catalog of World Coins, 1801-1900 .

• Download The Metal Mania Seminar with David Harper to learn more about the metals market.

The post Letters to the Editor (Apr. 17, 2017) appeared first on Numismatic News.

[tanmath3-blog]

Eric A. Shelman is amazing. Not only is he an amazing writer he can sing too. If you haven’t heard him sing check out his YouTube channel. You don’t want to miss it. He has a great sense of humor and an awesome personality. He loves his wife more than anything in the world. You should hear him talk about her it will make you smile. His writing will have you turning pages fast as you can and holding your breath. I highly recommend you reading his books you will love them. His characters are well-developed and the story line solid and flows well. If you haven’t met him you are missing out on a great man, writer and friend. Please welcome Eric A. Shelman to Roadie Notes…..

    1. How old were you when you first wrote your first story?

I had to be 18 or 19 – I had moved to Dana Point, California, into my first apartment on Silver Lantern street. I had a HUGE group of good partying friends, with it being 1978/79, and wrote a story that included all of them called “Joe Toast in Outer Space.”

Joe Toast was what I’d call myself (and my friends called themselves) when we got a little … let’s say, “blitzed.” Somebody’d come up to me at a party and say, “Hey, man, how you doin’?” and I’d say, “Man, I’m Joe Toast.” Meaning … I was “toasted.”

BUT that said, I also wrote poetry when I was a kid – even got a poem about a departing teacher, Mrs. Dunaway, in the newspaper. Some shit about the golden rule, etc. I later wrote a poem called “Bird Talk” that I thought was pretty good – a teacher asked me where I copied it from, not believing I wrote it. Man, that hit me hard. So, that’s about it. I wrote Bird Talk, probably when I was 8 or 9.

2. How many books have you written?

I’m at 18 right now, but am working on #19. 15-1/2 of those books were written since 2010. I had a 12-year gap in my writing, where I just gave it up completely. I blame a cruel, harsh critique group – but they weren’t really that. They helped me a LOT.

3. Anything you won’t write about?

I love horror, so I tend to go that route. I think of something that scares me, and try to approach it from a different direction. I don’t think I’d ever do romance – but I might try erotica under a pen name. I can get as sexy/raunchy/intimate as the next guy. Just never have. I have a lot of stories from my personal life that would make good drama, but not anything I think I’d want to share, and unfortunately, the people in my life would know the story – and they wouldn’t appreciate it.

4. Tell me about you. Age (if you don’t mind answering), married, kids, do you have another job etc…

I’m turning 57 this year, which is just freakin’ baffling to me. I mean, I remember being in my late teens and twenties, never EVER believing I’d live to see 30, much less 40 or 50+. That’s because I was a big partier back in the 70s. I partook in pretty much every recreational drug that didn’t require a needle (never, EVER would I jab a needle in my arm) and I’d wager a guess that when I was young, NONE of my friends would’ve ever predicted I’d become an author and tell stories of zombies, aliens and serial killers.

I’m married for 30 years to my wife, Linda, but we’ve been together since 1983. That’s 34 years together. We live in Cape Coral, Florida, and currently do not have any dogs – but we always have. Greyhounds, Whippets, Chihuahuas, Shelties, etc. We almost seem ready for a new rescue dog.

For my other job(s), I’m an audiobook narrator, and have done work for James Dean, Mike Evans, Thomas A. Watson, Comet Press, David A. Simpson, Dana E. Donovan, and others. I also narrate all of my own novels. I’m also an active real estate broker, and also work in Internet marketing/direct sales.

5. What’s your favorite book you have written?

It’s hard to say, but Shifting Fears is my favorite story. There are some cool intricacies I really like about the story, and those (few) who have read it also love it. Dead Hunger is what put me on the map, which ended at 9 books and a novella. My favorite couple would definitely be Flex and Gem of Dead Hunger.

I really like The Camera: Bloodthirst – it’s a funny/gory story, along the lines of “Reanimator.”

6. Who or what inspired you to write?

Well, despite the fact that I’ve been writing since I was just a young tike, my writing really ramped up when my late brother, Gary, came home sometime in the 1990s and shared a story he’d written. It was a fiction story called “The Gift,” and he was working on another about his life in Juvenile detention called “State Boy.” That inspired me to begin writing short stories. After pounding out 20 of them, I finally decided to write a book. In 1999, Out of the Darkness: The Story of Mary Ellen Wilson was released. That’s what gave me the permanent writing BUG.

7. What do you like to do for fun?

Well, you KNOW I love to sing, so I have over 400 videos on YouTube of me doing just that – yes, to Karaoke tracks. I don’t have a goddamned band, so what am I to do? Plus, Karaoke musicians don’t get drunk and mess up the tune while I’m singing. Sometimes I get drunk and mess it up, though. I also paint stuff occasionally, and I do sing part-time with a band named Shady Deal. Linda and I like to go camping, love to read and listen to tunes. I recommend some Friday or Saturday night, while you’re just mellowing out, to fire up Pandora and create a music station called Melody Gardot radio. You’ll DIG the vibes of that artist, as well as those similar to her. It’s a groooooooooveeeee.

8. Any traditions you do when you finish a book?

Not really – just fret about how to promote it so it doesn’t die on the vine, and begin thinking about my next book or my next audiobook narration.

9. Where do you write? Quiet or music?

Mostly quiet, in my office. I used to listen to rock guitar gods or classical music, but not so much anymore. Not sure why!?

10. Anything you would change about your writing?

If I had the time for the pause, I might seek out a large publisher – not an indy, because I don’t really feel in my bones that they can do as much for me as I would – I often check out their authors’ books to see how they’re selling, and normally, mine are better than theirs. I don’t need to trade this for worse – I’d like to really get with a house that could … you know, make me FAMOUS. (Because RICH usually goes with that.) And we’d all like to be rich, no matter what we say on Facebook.

11. What is your dream? Famous writer?

Hell yes. I’d love to be known as a writer whose stuff you’ll buy just because HE wrote it. And to be happy and healthy as I roll my way towards death.

12. Where do you live?

Paradise, baby. Paradise. Cape Coral, Florida. As I write this, it’s February 8, 2017, and 80 degrees with sun outside. That’s why we live here. We moved here from southern California in 2001. We were there over 30 years, but before that, I was born and raised in Texas.

13. Pets?

Not presently – we’re DOG people.

14. What’s your favorite thing about writing?

The entertainment factor – knowing that you wrote something that people can use to take them away from their daily grind. There is one woman – a fan of mine – whose daughter was killed. She was devastated, and started reading Dead Hunger. She has told me so many times how that book series allowed her to escape her pain while she read it. That is the best feeling. Just the best.

15. What is coming next for you?

Either The Camera II, or a new zombie series. I’ve got some ideas I’ve got to flesh out. I’ve had starts and stops on new zombie series ideas – and then I keep wondering if it’s almost spent! Looking at Tufo’s sales, I have to say it’s not, but then again – maybe that’s just for him! I’ll be working on something else within 30 days of completing Scabs III. I will probably release the entire Scabs Trilogy in ONE book, which will be close to 1000 pages.

  Anything else you would like me to include please feel free to tell me!

Methinks I hate Shakespeare, and I abhor the classics, like the very boring Moby Dick and others. I’m not into “literary” fiction, besides Watership Down, Flowers for Algernon, and some other greats. Give me a fantastic Dean Koontz or Stephen King book – or Ken Follett or Clive Cussler, for that matter. Then … I’m happy.

You can connect with Eric A. Shelman here:

Twitter: AuthorShelman Skype: Shelman9 Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/createyourfate Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/authorshelman Website: http://www.ericshelman.com My products site: http://the-twisted-products-of-author-eric-a-shelman.myshopify.com/ My books on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Eric-A-Shelman/e/B001K91I2Y/

  Some of Eric A. Shelman’s books: 

    Getting personal with Eric A. Shelman Eric A. Shelman is amazing. Not only is he an amazing writer he can sing too. If you haven't heard him sing check out his YouTube channel.