#with LOUD ASS landscaping or construction going on outside

[lethality-of-dual-strike]

i had 2.5 hours of sleep and my brain refuses to let me sleep anymore so that's where i'm at babeyyy

[forthelostones]

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ➺ 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #2

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. everyone wow thank you so much for the love on for your eyes only! it means so much. here’s something a little different, hope you enjoy. any requests don’t hesitate to drop ‘em, xx jstar.

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. distraction by kehlani ♫

palestinians still need e-sims!!! click the link to figure out how you can donate.

The overly generous housewife commissioned me another large project, to which I simply could not decline. Summertime is when business is the best and she just became my second client in this particular neighborhood. It was a carbon copy of the nearby cities split by four-way stops and freeways. The demands were never unique or fresh, causing me a great deal of creative fatigue when I had to order identical materials from my supplier. I pressed the half-empty bottle of frosty Sam Adams against my neck, soothing the battering I received from the sun this afternoon. There was a cacophony of Casio watch alarms indicating that lunch was over. All my workers were so ecstatic to finish up today’s task and celebrated with loud audible sighs.

“Men can be such pigs,” I whispered, consolidating their empty glasses sticky with sugar. 

“Men and children,” She adds, catching me off guard. 

I smile over to her blankly, having very little experience with either. 

“Yes, my little one over there used to be a slobbering mess.” 

I glance over my shoulder to see her daughter sucking on a lemon wedge. Her dark pink lips are tacky with citrus and teeth white against the sunny flesh shedding onto her mouth’s crevasses. I trace the thin maroon-shaded line on the outside of her lips. I find my tongue gliding over my own, thinking of how the lemon would taste between us both. Her eyes jut open once she realizes I am looking at her, eyelashes feathery and light under the sun. Then she just stares at the ground, scraping the sole of her worn Converse against the driveway pavement, attempting to conceal her smile. 

“Have any?” She asks. 

“Any kids? Ah, no. I don’t.” 

She invites me into her home with my hands full of expensive glassware. She screams out to her daughter to bring in the remaining to which she obliges silently, the wedge now dry between her teeth. I wait before walking through the mysterious door and let her guide me — once again with no words. I watched her hips wobble, compressed in spandex, as she walked in front of me. Blinking myself out of the curve of her behind, I stepped up the concrete steps into the kitchen area. Once the daughter placed the glasses on the granite island, she discarded her lemon by spitting it directly into the bin, before lifting the cups out of my hands. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” I hummed naturally. 

“So we’re good for a consultation tomorrow Abigail?” 

I stalked the daughter's movements as she traveled to the dishwasher on the other side of the kitchen. She hunched over to load the dishwasher, ass drawing me back in as she bent down into a squat to adjust something on the rack. 

“Abigail?” Her mother probed. 

“Yes, ma’am, sorry I was just going through my schedule in my mind.” I laughed nervously. 

“Don’t you have an assistant for all that stuff?” 

“No ma’am, not yet. But we’re good for a consultation at 7:00 am?” 

“Yes, my husband will be here and it’ll be a nice affair. Darling, why don’t you give Abigail all of our numbers. It will be necessary once she starts coming by regularly to fix your bathroom and the deck.” 

Her daughter bounced on her heels and closed the washer, turning to me, worrying her lip in her mouth. She looked between her mother and me, confused at the declaration of plans.

“I didn’t know… uh… renovations to my bathroom, okay.” She said.

“You’ve been complaining about it, so we’re getting it fixed, see Abigail out.” 

She wipes her hands on her shorts and leaves wet smears on the material, the handprints incasing her plump thighs. The girl guides me back to the entrance we came in, her mother wishing me farewell as I step out of the kitchen and back into the garage. I turn to her, still perched on the top of the concrete step, her breasts now eye-level. They glimmer like diamonds just before I tilt my head back and meet her reticent eyes. She holds out her hand, palm upward, demanding something. 

“Phone?” She says. 

“Oh right, uh I think I left it in the truck,” I say patting my pockets. “Why don’t you just take mine down?” 

She removes her phone from her waistband and opens the contact page allowing me to type in my information. I look up at her and she nods at my name on the screen. I huff and start strutting out of the wide garage door. Just as my boot touches the line between the shaded concrete of the garage and driveway, I hear her sweet voice shimmer. “See ya, Ms. Anderson.” 

“Bye.” I wave as the heat from outside embraces me and a collection of warmth bottles inside of me from hearing my name so velvety on her lips. 

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

My neck and forehead were drenched as I rolled over to throw my legs over the couch. The tightness in my lower back that could only be saved by major corrective massaging was throbbing violently. My body stiffened from using this old couch as my bed again, the third time this week. My actual bedroom was a few steps away from the front door but I never make it there. Under my left leg was another thriller book whose name is now obsolete and could explain why I was sweaty and anxious throughout the night. I thumbed the pages and set them on the massive pile of manila folders that accumulated on the coffee table. I put my finger under my glasses and rubbed my eyes clear. What a mess my house has become. The sun wasn’t even up yet and I question why I still do any of this. This a question I ask myself every day actually. I touch the screen of my phone that I forgot to put on charge last night, again, and see all the notifications accumulated after 7:00 pm. 

Payments due, meetings, consultations, etc., are all semi-organized in a calendar system I have yet to perfect.

11:00 PM: See you in the morning, Ms. Anderson :) 

I felt my mouth open slightly. I was pathetic, smiling at a simple text. How long had it been since a notification on my phone was from a woman? I opened the message to type but it’s far too late to reply… right? I liked the message, saved her number as the address, and placed my phone down on the counter. I picked up my tube of toothpaste and noticed how thin it became. I will need to run to the store after work today, another thing to add to the list of shit I didn’t want to do. I used all my might to pop out the last bulb of paste. 

Today was supposed to be an easy day, do the consultation, and oversee the porch while I put up ads for an assistant I desperately needed. After slicking my hair I walked back into the living room where piles of paperwork overwhelmed the space. I needed an assistant and quickly if I was going to continue to expand my business. 

Two cups of black coffee today as I discovered my creamer was congealed and rotten beyond belief. Another thing I need to do is go grocery shopping. I searched for my keys under the folders stacked on my coffee table. It was already 6:30 a.m. and by my standards, I was running late. Once every piece of paper was misplaced and out of order, I recalled my keys' presence on the loop of my cargos. I pressed my head against my seat and let out a sigh before turning on my truck and an audiobook, A Certain Hunger. Another fucking day. 

My truck hummed as I parked on the street in front of the plain light blue house. I winced at my final sip of bitter caffeine while pulling the keys out of the ignition and attaching them to my belt loop. I dig in my back seat for my work bag and drag it with me to the front door. After I knocked, a man of my height opened the door to welcome me in. 

“Abigail,” He said unamused by my presence. 

“Good morning,” I replied. 

“So, this deck came with the house and it’s very outdated and my wife would like to…” 

His voice faded into a tornado of my own thoughts. It was usually the same customers, who had a ten-year-old porch or deck, wanted it to look modern and have the money to waste on it. I shouldn’t complain because I'm willing to take what they’re willing to cough up. 

“Let me show you the bathroom we want to redo.” 

I followed him up the hardwood steps that opened into a mezzanine that split into three directions. One I assumed was a bathroom, a master suite, and a baby pink painted door with a crown-shaped sign that said: ‘The Princess’ Room'. I found myself cracking a smile. He knocked on the door before entering, to which his restless daughter opened her eyes and pulled the duvet over her chest.

“Dad.” She groaned, catching a glimpse of me just before retreating completely under the blanket. 

The view I caught of her face was soft and her lips were perfectly swollen to take into my mouth. I clear my throat and push the thought down just before nearly tripping over one of the many boxes cascading around the room. The bathroom was bright with shades of pink I had never seen before. 

“We just want something black, gold, something mature for the college grad.” He tried to smile but shrugged as if his wife told him to say those exact words. 

“Great, I can draft something up and give you a quote.” 

“Nice, I do have to run, my rude daughter will see you out.” 

His hand briefly gripped my shoulder as he walked past me. I looked over to the bed and placed my thumbs into my belt loops as she peeked from the covers. Her bare shoulders indicated that she was in no position to walk me out. I followed the deep line of her collarbone and blinked heavily. I swallowed as my cheeks became flushed and marched out of the room before finding my way back into my truck in a blur. I placed my hand on my chest and imagined my skin was hers. How it would feel under my hands after a long day and possibly how she would feel on mine too. There was a deeper ache in me that needed to be satisfied. The safety of knowing my body belonged to someone else would soothe my mind. I would finally get some release if— 

A knock on my window jolted me back into reality. She was standing on the other side of the glass with her hand above her eyebrows trying to shield herself from the early morning sun. Her body is now covered in an all-white cotton sleepwear set that was hastily thrown on. I linger on the movement of her breasts and the outline of her hips as her hand gently catapults the most delicate parts of her body into a wave. The fabric held no regard for a woman’s eye like mine. The silhouette of her dark nipples and sloping v-line at the waistband of her flowing shorts pulled at a string that hadn’t been yanked in a long time. I felt a thrum deep below my belt. I turn the key to roll the window and she smiles slightly, lips slathered in a pinkish gloss that caught my attention immediately. 

“Hi,” She mutters. 

“Morning.” I reply. 

“Um, sorry I wasn’t—”  

“You’re good. So, Princess?” 

I regretted saying it until her smile grew into a chuckling laughter that echoed down the silent street. I grinned with her as her skin glistened from the pure sunlight, uninterrupted of any lingering elements. 

“To be fair, we’ve lived in this house forever.” She adds. 

“Uh-huh, well, no worries all that pink will be gone.” I glance down to her mouth and she retracts her lips to make them vibrate with a pop. 

“In a way, I’ll miss it but it's time for something new.” 

Those words hung in my mind and the cadence in which said it, implying something more than just new tiles and a coat of white paint. 

“Right, have a nice day,” I say. 

“Oh and Abby,” She adds, leaning into the window with her perfect fingers on the windowsill. “Can you tell me when you’re coming so I can at least be dressed?” 

Before I could get a word in she was already heading back through the front door of her house. 

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

I sat on the sidewalk with my laptop and lawn chair, writing out a description for an assistant. I had been so used to doing everything on my own when I started but now I need to switch my methods before I can’t do it anymore. The team was getting along well with the porch and we were almost done, one week in advance, but I can’t count too much on their loud mouths to stay on task. It felt nice to sit in the sun and give my body a rest, I needed more of this. But now I was just staring at the cursor on the screen wondering what I needed an assistant to do.

As a woman who owns her own company…

(DELETE) 

I am looking for someone who is …

(DELETE) 

In need of an Administrative Assistant who can help with my everyday business needs. This includes filing records, sending invoices to clients, being the main contact for clients, and other tasks as assigned. If you are applying, provide a resume listing previous experience relevant to this job. Set hours of 30 per week may include, working in an office, on the job site, and traveling with me. Pay starts at $19.00 per hour. Please send your interest to andersonco@gmail.com. Thank you. 

I triple-checked my grammar to ensure there were no errors and posted it to all the job-hiring websites I could think of. I exhaled knowing the mess of my life would soon become organized with the assistance of someone more qualified than me to sort it out. I close my warm laptop walk around to the driver's seat and place it into my bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice someone watching me from the sidewalk. 

As I lift my gaze I notice my stalker. She walks over to me, fully dressed in bright yellow athleisure and a smile. “I realized something.” She says, hands on the fat of her hips. I pause as I notice the contrast of the sunflower yellow against her skin. If I didn't know, I would mistaken her for the sun.

“And that is?” 

“You told my dad you were going to mock-up something but never got what I wanted it to be. Doesn’t there have to be a meeting of some sort so you know what style I like?” 

“I thought your style was black and gold?” 

She stood just a foot away from me and I cast her body in my shadow, relieving her from the sun. I hovered over her but if she only knew how yielding I felt around her this persona would vanish.

“It is but I want to have some say in the creative process.” She tilts her head, milking me for every ounce of consideration.

“Of course. So, a design meeting?” 

I cross my arms and not in a subtle way. It wasn’t an intentional distraction, just a habit. 

“Yes.” She said, holding her eye contact with me. 

“Fine. Cool,” I say and she chuckles. 

A woman my age shouldn’t be saying cool. 

“How does this work then?” 

I open the door and bend over the seat to grab my notebook with pages crumbled and falling out. 

“We schedule a meeting, I doodle a bit, and we come to an agreement. Will cost you extra though, most clients just trust my first design.” I shrug. 

“Oh,” 

“Is that okay with you?” 

“Of course. How does tomorrow sound?” 

“Oh coo— great. Tomorrow at … 3 pm?” I said, avoiding her gaze that has yet to leave my body. 

“I can do that.” 

“You can stop by my office tomorrow then, I will send you the address.” 

[witch-hazels-musings]

Sorry if this is so insensitive to ask, but at this point I'm desperate.

How do you write so well?

I've been writing for over a decade. I enjoy writing sometimes, but I've been nonstop comparing myself to everyone else for a while now, and it's destroyed my motivation to write. And a part of me has always wanted to be an author.

Do you have any tips on ways to improve my writing?

I do a lot of research for both my stories and how to construct my writing. You're really good at hitting both quality and quantity in your writing, while I feel like it's incredibly difficult for me to even do one or the other most of the time. I don't want to half-ass my work, but it's very easy for me to get...burnt out, iykwim.

Sorry for the ramble, really. I just don't know what to do anymore :')

ah! -- well bless you - I hope you can find yourself to love the works you do and know that only you could ever write the stories that are in your head. Each authors experiences bring them to where they are right now and help tell, shape that story!

I feel I may slip into a lecture - this is my advice and thoughts / processes only! (here we go) -- got a bit long, below the cut

I write with emotion in mind -> sensations of the body, thoughts in the mind, feelings in the heart (living creatures are naturally empathetic - we relate to emotions pretty easily so it’s a great way to get readers to connect with the action / character / story) 

I avoid just saying what the character is doing over and over again - he did, then did, then followed with. -> So, if I notice i’m doing that a lot I’ll go back in and add flourishes to the sentence (descriptions, actions, emotions, thoughts of the character) 

Example: 

1. He sat on the bed, then reached for the lamp that sat on the nightstand. It turned off and made the room dark. He stood up to walk toward the window to gaze outside, but the rain made it hard to see (staccato, choppy)  

2. He sat on the bed, the blankets which should be neatly placed under him were a disheveled mess, much like his current state of mind. The lamp on the table made his eyes squint and, in an effort to shield his face from the light, he turned it off. With a heavy sigh, he lifted his worn body from the bed. It creaked and he wondered if it was from his bones or the ancient frame that held the mattress. His feet moved forward, his mind distracted, until he came to the window but as he looked out across the landscape it was shrouded in a murky grey and obscured by the rain that fell across the glass.

You may notice I also avoid repeating certain words in the same paragraph - if I used the word ‘window’ I don’t want to use that word again, so instead I describe the qualities or ingredients of a window (like an alchemist who puts everything out on the table and then points at what they want) 

I pick and choose the actions to focus on - and i try really hard to make sure that whatever I’m describing it accurate AND CONSISTENT -> if you are going to describe a hand placement, make sure that hand placement is considered with what else is going on (continuity is important) 

read articles - search things like: How to write a good *x* seen, how to describe facial expressions, ways to say said (lol) -- researching and looking at examples is how we learn more! If you aren’t doing this every once in a while, you’re missing out**

when I edit works -> I read it slowly top to bottom (some like to read it bottom to top, so whichever) and i’ll usually speak it out-loud to make sure the phrases sound good and clear - i read all my works (and if i’m exhausted, I put it off till later and come back with fresh eyes) 

I based my writing off my love for a specific author because i loved the way his sentences were designed (Edgar Rice Burroughs) -- so i’d say if you love an author, analyze how they write. break it down, see if you can recreate something similar as practice

----

i’d also say - practice practice - write something small EVERY DAY -- that’s why I created Teyvat Memories, it’s helped me continue to polish my works over and over again

Again, these are just thoughts that i have after analyzing my works. everyone may be different and every author is different - but these are the rules I follow 

(( OH OH - gosh, also get Grammarly on your phone/computer - like it’s my saving grace because even when I edit i’ll miss something awful lol ))

idk if this helps but here you go lol! don’t give up!! if you love to write, keep GOING - and on that day that you write something and it makes you cry, cheer, shot with excitement, I  hope you will share your joy with me <3 <3 

[elizabethrobertajones]

Hot take: 13x23 is 5x18 “Point of No Return” but they’re married and they’ve adopted the anti-Christ. And also no Adam.

counterpoint: Jack is Adam but filtered through 9 years of Dabb regret for introducing both Jesse and Adam to the story and then constantly being asked about them when neither were intended to play any further part in the narrative but THIS is the child he would sculpt from that experience if Buckleming are gonna force more creepy baby stories on him :P 

5x18 starts with Dean defining himself by all the things that are the dismal tools of his trade and core identity, boxing them up to give away (technically the Lisa exchange was also written as the opening of the episode but it got shuffled over one episode to be the end of the previous, which I think is a solid decision but I’ll throw it in here for sake of argument). Dean is primarily defined by his leather jacket, gun and car keys, all of which hark back to John and the identity that he crafted to be half a John knock off, half what he thought John would want Dean to be which may be better/different than John but only to John’s own specifications. Stripped down of all that he wrote his “where we’re going we don’t need roads” letter to Sam and Bobby, meaning for that to be pretty much it.

In the open of 13x23 the “good times” define Dean in a completely different way. He has Sam and ~a~ Bobby, but also his mom, Cas and Jack. Cas plays a pretty small role in the very open of the episode, not being included in that letter, and it makes sense to me in the way that Cas is still very much a fellow solider rather than a family member - he’s very much deep in the stuff that even just the next year will have solidified him to Dean as so important that season 6 hurts like it does, but they’re still in that forging fire and having crucial bonding conversations - my favourite from season 5 is literally in the previous episode. 

And it’s interesting in the open of 13x23 that we see a sort of ~normal life resumes~ period for them, which includes Dean driving around hunting, but he’s doing it with Sam and Cas and Jack, and it’s so wildly different from the grim identity as a hunter that he inherited from John. They’ve made it their own way to the point that they have an angel that’s got their backs and a lil nephilim baby who is making a normal werewolf hunt devastatingly easy to the point of being kinda comical. (Obviously that’s not a lasting thing since Jack is depowered by the end but they got to enjoy it). And this leads to a dead opposite version of Dean’s suicide note, where instead he daydreams out loud to a present Sam, taking their life from a POV where he can think about a HAPPY endgame, the beach holiday, the drinks with lil umbrellas, and Cas is there. Then he wanders off and is parental towards Jack.

The whole Lisa and Ben endgame was also one of isolation and removing hunting and personal life, but the Good Times construct a world where Dean has it all - present parental figures rather than an absent memory, his brother, a spouse and a kid. Jack overlapping with Dean’s parenting of Ben in his emotional landscape doesn’t subtract from his life - Jack’s the reason he can even wonder if he and Sam and Cas can take his beach vacation he has been craving out loud basically since John died. Where they’re going they still need the car but only to get around for good reasons, you know? 

So these being the two underlying mindsets Dean has before attempting to/actually saying yes to Michael is fascinating because one of them strips him bare as removing all his personhood, putting the weight of the world on his shoulders, and painting him the idea of a paradise where the lucky few survive and everyone lives happily in Heaven. Michael’s endgame is in Pamela and Leah’s descriptions that convince Dean in the 2 previous episodes - that maybe it’s not so bad that some people get to go to Heaven. But Leah then goes evangelical club of lucky 1000 people style Heaven ascending, and this is where the spoilers about Michael in season 14 overlap with her message so obviously 5x17 might be a key thematic episode as well, as 5x16, 17 and 18 make Michael’s mission and intent so extremely clear. (5x13 too but brr, there’s so much that happens in that exchange I’d need another post :P).

AU Michael sees them as Paradise AU, while they’ve been viewing his world as Apocalypse AU, and I think those 2 perspectives are a very clear meta commentary on the way that his vision was presented back in season 5 as well - that he was going for that full Christian judgement day where the sheep and the goats are separated or whatever, and the planet is cleansed. He already attempted it in the Apocalypse AU but it clearly went awry and it sounds from spoilers like he’s gonna have a second go at realising this properly? I haven’t really been paying clear attention to the spoilers but it stood out to me having Dabb tease the sort of stuff I’ve been describing because that was barely implicit in season 13 since of course AU Michael made such a hash of the apocalypse on his first go at it. But of course for budget reasons he’s being more careful and less openly destructive in Paradise AU. And the very fact that the main SPN verse is Paradise AU to him is utterly fascinating when layered over season 5 and what we glean of Michael’s plan post-Lucifer killing, which our original Michael seems to see as an irritating first step even back then. 

And then to get to season 13, Dean in this wonderful happy good place is going to be the time he ends up saying Yes because it’s not the weight of the world on his shoulders - I mean, yeah, it is, but. It’s the weight of his family. And Sam and Jack are the ones who are taken - the haemorrhaging brothers Zach casually used as leverage in 5x18 - and we get Dean bargaining with AU Michael just like he bargained with Zach and Michael in 5x18 to worm his way to a change of mind and a “no”, he ends up in the place where to save his brother and son the only option is a yes in another room.

Carver being Carver - and we have his whole showrunning to use as a focus lens on this - went the route of that codependency debate about whether Dean would even care to save Adam or just Sam’s sweet bacon and manipulated Adam into feeling like they wouldn’t care, that they were the cause of all his problems, and Adam was caught in the middle, lied to, and wanting to see his mom again and Zach’s abuse of him in this way to get what he wants is the mirror of Lucifer getting to Jack and trying to prove he can be a good father while attempting to sweet talk Jack enough to agree to zap them off Earth and away from Michael’s plan. It DOESN’T get framed as a Sam and Dean us or them, the break comes before that when Jack for himself sees Lucifer being an abusive ass, and disowns him, and rather than a loss of Adam it’s a distinctive gaining of Jack as a permanent family feature. 

The confrontation with him, Sam and Lucifer goes on to finish making that extremely clear, with Sam and Jack competing to die for each other - not for Dean - and showing the bonds and strength they have as their own father and son relationship that has grown outside of the Sam n Dean codependency that Michael manipulated to make it look like even in the last moment they had “lost” Adam to it, rather than him stealing him from under their noses. They did actually intend to rescue him, though I think the staging of it was more like a careless moment of Dean helping Sam through the door first, it wasn’t a Huge Choice To Ditch Adam - though that careless priority of Sam comes back around in 6x11 as well so it’s not like a non-element, it was still not like, a Fuck You Adam I Only Care About Sam. 

Obviously in 13x23 with Jack the focus of the abduction and Sam leaping in on it HEROICALLY, there’s of course the sense that is heightened for us the audience that Sam is in trouble as well but while 5x18 had a Save Adam thing and this was a Save Jack thing, in every other way the emotional lines come down about family as a unit not a playing favourites game OR any commentary whatsoever on codependency except in its absence, while 5x18 is one of the only episodes to even actually use that word to describe Sam n Dean. It happened to be Sam and Jack in this situation but any combination of his peeps could have triggered this response in Dean, I feel. This is just the narratively neat way it played out.

And, of course, to get to the worst part… Which i still can’t even handle even when it’s been the focus of my icon for at least a month… Cas having to deal with Dean saying yes, after 5x18 was such a huge argument and point of pain between them, the one time Cas has turned violently on Dean was for attempting to give up and say yes to Michael in that episode, and it caused him a complete loss of faith, and was his impetus to help them get to Adam but in the cattiest fuck you possible in that last moment outside the warehouse. He describes going into the suicide mission to clear out the angels as not having to deal with watching Dean say yes, so of course in 13x23 his role is to chill with Dean as his accepted husband, third wheel, whatever else, part of the beach vacation, unquestioned part of the family, only for Dean to suddenly do the thing in front of him that in 5x18 had been their lowest point, personally and emotionally and interpersonally. When they had no faith in each other, and were both suicidal and miserable. 

And Cas is left in moments having to deal with losing potentially his entire family - son, brother, husband - to Lucifer and Michael, and it’s like they’re right back at the start. So much has changed and it’s not about faith, it’s not about believing in each other… He and Jack are part of this Winchester family and their investment is so different. But it’s seeing Dean make this sacrifice for family in front of him when of all of them Cas and Dean know the stakes of saying yes to Michael the best in the sense of having fought it out like that before. Because it’s the thing that forged them. That on the other side of it, Cas told Dean he wasn’t the broken shell of a man he thought he was or whatever he said in 5x21 when apologising for his lack of faith in his surprise that Dean hadn’t said yes. That last minute reconciliation and forging of what was the core of their bond from then on…

I think for Cas, still, his belonging is a bit more tenuous and Jack helps - he’s helped all of them by the brief “good times” montage at the start - but he’s always doubted his place in the family and the role he has and Dean’s always been his strongest connection, and having Jack and a settled few weeks to months with all these people around feels like a good way to give Cas time to feel truly in a part of the family unit. But even in 13x06 you can see they all have all their different bonds and dynamics and with Jack there it gives Cas another purpose and connection and Jack is also firmly connected to Sam and Dean. It’s sort of a joke that they’re all his dads when Rowena says it, but it’s seriously not untrue. For lack of any other relatable life experience and the circumstances of Jack’s existence, Dean, Cas and Sam are his fathers for the roles they’ve played to him, and those new bonds are like a thicker glue between TFW that none of them can really argue their way out of when it comes to emotional doubt about belonging. If Cas struggles to see the Bunker as home and his purpose on earth, then Jack DOES, and can clearly name his family, who matters to him, what he wants and where he wants to be, by the last moments that Lucifer steals his grace, Jack is avowedly a part of their world, and that’s a link Cas now has that sort of chains him there one step further than he ever had before that his doubts are going to have to listen to. And, you know, 10 seconds later Jack is gone and Sam is gone and Dean is saying yes to Michael. 

It makes Cas in 5x18 even more interesting just because this is the moment of shattering for him, and thinking back to how he was and what he stood to lose then is both deeply personal but so removed from what he has in season 13 that it’s hard to grasp at it, except that it’s so so connected to Dean and Dean only, that in the same way that losing Jack and Sam at once challenges the codependency set up that Zach presented via Adam, you have Cas no longer laser focused on Dean. And yet, of course. He stays behind with Dean to see him say yes, because in 5x18 that was his laser focus of emotional characterisation and as much as Sam and Jack mean to him, this is how to hurt Cas to his very very core. And still, even in this new family, shows the pressure point is Dean, and this very personal history they share when it comes to saying yes to Michael. How Dean represented Cas’s faith, and when they lost their faith they lost it together, and then gained it back together, because of each other. Leaving Cas to watch that happen… ugh, it’s illegal. I don’t even have words for the magnitude of what Dabb put him through and I’ve been wrangling with it all summer and now it’s September and it still hurts on a cosmic level :P 

And yet in the end the episodes end the same - hubris and losing a character to Michael, who still manages to sneak a victory and a vessel out of the scenario, even after Dean bargained with him and stabbed a smarmy adversary and seemed for a moment like the biggest badass and a fuckin hero to Sammy and defended their family and independence and place in the world. But in this case, Dean had already let Michael through the door, and he didn’t have to settle for a second rate vessel. Dean always bargains with himself and this time, the bargain that he gets to kill the bad guy in exchange for Michael’s cooperation failed, and like in both scenarios Michael took his vessel by force and trickery, because for Michael, the “yes” has always been a pretty hypothetical necessity in the first place >.> 

[n3rdlif343va]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!! Hopefully you haven't received too many of these because I'd like to give you something you'll enjoy writing on your birthday! Love you much hun :) ♡♡♡ Ship: phichimetti; Object: loud A/C; Phrase: "why are you like this."

Thank you for the birthday wishes!!! And for my amazing birthday fic!! (If you love Phichimetti, please check out Noon’s fic here and also Confess (My Sanctuary) which is my favorite Phichimetti AU ever!)

I have to have the router replaced at my place so internet is a funky demon right now lol, I’m posting this while I am hooked in! Hopefully you will like this silliness ;)

(This is also kind of going back to this old prompt response - Yuuri and Phichit love pranking their men, don’t fight me on this ha ha ha)

It had been nearly two years since Phichit had returned to the US, specifically to Detroit and even more specifically to the familiar landscape of Celestino’s backyard. During his training and undergrad days, Phichit (like most of Celestino’s preferred skaters) had haunted the pool and professional-level grill constructed behind Celestino’s impress suburban home and returning to the blue-striped lawn furniture and smell of flourishing rose bushes made him feel nostalgic in all the right ways. As did the rattling sound of Celestino’s ridiculously old A/C unit.

“What is that horrific noise?” Chris asked, leaning his chin on Phichit’s shoulder while Phichit happily poked at the food he already had resting on the hot grill.

Phichit had insisted on cooking, refusing to let Celestino help since he was allowing all of the visiting skaters to invade his home for the evening. Turning to peck a kiss to Chris’s cheek, Phichit laughed when the second round of rattling made his adorable boyfriend jump. “That would be Celestino’s air conditioning unit. He tends to crank it up at night because he likes to sleep in an ice box and then the outside part sounds like a monster trying to escape a cage.”

With his last word, Phichit began to smile, turning in Chris’s arms and immediately receiving a hand clamped over his mouth.

“That was a Phichit evil smile,” Chris remarked, laughing when Phichit nipped at his fingers. “What just popped into that head of yours?” Hesitantly dropping his hand, Chris let it rest on Phichit’s hip, one eyebrow still cocked suspiciously.

“You said Victor is easy to scare right?” Phichit reached for his back pocket, yanking out his phone and already thumbing through to find Yuuri’s number. His smile grew more wicked when Chris groaned a soft “oh no” under his breath. Typing in the lightening speed that only Phichit could perform one-handed, he quickly asked for Yuuri’s blessing and help to pull of the prank.

Tilting his head to read the exchange, Chris huffed out a laugh. “If he ends up drowning because of this, that’s on your conscious,” Chris teased, shaking his head and laughing when Phichit’s tongue stuck out defiantly in his direction.

“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Phichit shot back, kissing Chris on the nose before returning his attention to the grill. Yuuri was on board and the trap was set, now all Phichit had to do was perfect the timing.

SPLASH

Water careened out of the side of the pool following Victor’s startled leap, his pool chair still caught on his foot as he tried to fight back to the surface. Behind them, Celestino’s air conditioner roared, clanked and thudding and sounding exactly like the angry spirit living in Celestino’s house that Phichit had described. On the deck, Phichit and Yuuri howled with laughter, a heap on the ground of wheezing best friends.

Dragging Victor from the pool, Chris faked a reprimanding stance towards his own boyfriend. “Phichit, why are you like this?” he demanded to know, biting hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“I say,” Victor stalked forward toward Yuuri, his clothes dripping wet and his hair hanging tangled in front of his face. “That we throw them in.” Launching in Yuuri’s direction, Victor threw his screeching husband over his shoulder and tossed him ass first into the pool.

Following Victor’s lead, Chris swooped toward Phichit, gathering his wiggling boyfriend into his arms. “Chris! You wouldn’t!” Phichit squealed, trying in vain to escape Chris’s hold.

Reaching the edge of the pool, Chris smiled as he tossed Phichit into the water. Before he could be smug over his success, there were hands on his back shoving him forward. Sputtering water, Chris broke the surface and gawked at Victor.

“I saw the smile,” Victor raised his eyebrow, hands on his hips. “You knew! We’re supposed to be a team!”

“You’re dead, Nikiforov,” Chris growled, throwing himself over the edge of the pool and chasing Victor down the lawn.

Throwing wet arms around each other, Phichit and Yuuri continued to belly laugh as they watched their partners wrestle in the grass.

[kindsummer]

                                        AMBER LIQUID AND FOOL’S COURAGE

Arrianna Moretti was not a fan of the cold. She loved the aesthetic of the colder seasons, of course; who doesn’t like comfy oversized sweaters and pumpkin flavored drinks? The cold, itself, however, was something that seeped through your body, and seemingly your soul, no matter how much you were bundled up. So, obviously, moving to Forks, Washington, a location of perpetual rain and mid 40s temperature was not ideal in the slightest. Coming from Massachusetts, it wasn’t so much of a difference, only more elevated and constant, which is what caused the corner of her lips to curl into a very displeased frown when he father had told her the news. It was just as Arry had predicted.

Ever since Arry was a little girl, she had precognitive abilities. Normally, she saw just little snippets of the future; things that didn’t impact anyone’s life very much. It was genuinely sort of annoying. Other times, however, she’d predicted the death of someone, the abuse of a child, or a person falling into a state of impenetrable depression.  Sometimes, her predictions weren’t exactly correct (which she was hoping for in the case of moving) but more often than not they were at least on the right track. That being said, Arry kept her predictions to herself. She had no idea what people would do to her if they knew about her power, so, she kept herself safe and her lips stayed sealed for seventeen years.

Seventeen years that were now possibly over because the Moretti family was packing up and moving all the way across the country to a town so small you couldn’t throw a stick without hitting a red neck hick. On the lengthy car ride over, Arry couldn’t help but be wistful as the landscapes lost more and more buildings and gained forests full of trees. Endless trees. She missed her shitty food service job and airy New England home. She missed her friends. She missed not feeling so…isolated.

Boxes unpacked and parents out on the town, Arry had nothing better to do than sit outside on the porch and text her favorite person in the world, Teresa, and ramble in meme speak about how shitty Forks was. Shivering from the nightly chill, she pulled her blanket further up her body, over her shoulders. Out of the corner of her eye, Arry thought she had seen something glimmer through the trees. Shifting in the wicker chair, she squinted in the direction of the forest. Seeing nothing this time, the girl returned to a comfortable position in her seat and relaxed. Sadly, the relaxing was for but a moment before her body was stock still and a vision flowed in front of her eyes.

A pale boy with honey blond hair sat next to her in what appeared to be a history classroom. Posters of former Presidents were plastered against the walls; bookcases filled to the brim lined the back wall. The boy beside her was impossibly beautiful, amber eyes glowing as he cast his gaze over her. Scars were embedded into his forearms, but Arry could only see them the moment the light hit them right. He seemed to be amused, lip curled almost unperceptively at the edge. There was something about this boy that haunted her, made her heart race in both fear and excitement. The boy was otherworldly.

Breathing sharp and hard as she returned from her vision, Arry was dizzy with the possibilities. Who was this boy? Why did she already feel such a connection to him without even having met him? Settling back in the chair, Arry contemplated the future. It wasn’t guaranteed that this would happen tomorrow, but what if it did? What if Arry was going to meet this serious, captivating boy and it would alter her life forever? She repressed the urge the inform Teresa of her impending future, instead continuing their conversation on a new eye shadow pallet that had come out the other day. Soon, the girl was fast asleep, curled up in a little ball on the wicker chair.

The following morning, Arry was abruptly woken up by a frosty breeze gracing her cheek. Shivering, she furled in on herself for a moment and stretched out her limbs, the feverish cold inkling into her every being. Arry hadn’t even noticed that she had fallen asleep on the porch. Checking her phone, her eyes bulged out of her head. “Shit, I’m late!” It was already seven thirty and it took thirty minutes to get to the center of town. Realistically, Arry would be late even just throwing on the bare minimum clothing and necessary school items. Swearing excessively, the girl shoveled school supplies into her backpack, pulled together the warmest outfit and piled herself into her car, peeling out of her driveway at top speed.

It was at school that Arry noticed that she had left her earbuds at home, and, although she loved to socialize and meet new people, she wasn’t exactly ready for it on the first day after having an impromptu camp out. Making her way to the office, Arry patiently waited for the disgruntled looking secretary to give her her schedule, rolling her eyes when they commented on how in the future, she shouldn’t be late. As if it was her full intention to be late all the time. Nearly running down the hallway to what appeared to be a history class with one Mr. Flemming, she arrived just as the bell rang. Plastering on her most sheepish smile, she cast her gaze around the oddly familiar room—then, she saw him.

The boy from her vision. His eyes were just as mesmerizing in person, and, almost as if he could feel her shock, the boy arched his brow. The class was deadly silent, Mr. Flemming himself looking upon her questioningly. “Why are you late?”

Unable to help herself, Arry spouted, “Because of the sign.”

“What sign?”

“The one that says, “School Ahead, Go Slow.”

Mr. Flemming rolled his eyes at the honestly, God awful dad joke. The rest of the class was a smattering of giggles, while the mysterious boy himself actually seemed to be smiling. Arry couldn’t help but smirk, gazing at her teacher with an air of challenge. “Please find a seat, Ms. Moretti. Be mindful in the future that we start at 8:30 sharp.” Again, these people acted as if she was intentionally late! Jeez, Forks must have something in the drinking water. Casting her eyes around the room, Arry’s heart stuttered when she realized that the only open seat was beside the boy from her dreams. Adjusting the strap of her backpack, she made her way to the back of the classroom. As she neared, his eyes seemed to grow darker, and it didn’t look as if he was breathing. Thinking it was just her natural sexual charm, Arry tossed her hair over her shoulders as she slid into the seat beside him.

The moment her ass had landed in the seat, the boy was up and out of his, running out of the classroom at an almost inhuman speed. “Mr. Hale!” Mr. Flemming protested, to no avail, as the boy was already out of earshot. Arry inconspicuously sniffed her shirt, hoping that it wasn’t her own bad scent that had sent him reeling. At least she could put a name to the delicate face—Hale. Now, instead of giggles, the class was murmuring. Hearing the sound of chair scraping against tile, Arry turned to see a different boy in the seat beside her. He had thick, unruly hair that was the colors of a sunset and his warm eyes were framed by thick, hipster glasses. Arry gave him a look, “Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Pete. Sorry about Blondie—he and his family are kinda weird.” The kid—Pete, apparently, held out his hand for a shake. Arry dutifully shook it, still giving him a dubious eye. “I’m Arry. Why, uh, why did you sit here?”

“Being a new kid sucks. Thought I could give you some company. Also, I saw the Kingdom Hearts pin on your bag and I knew we were destined to be friends; no one else around here has even heard of it!” Pete was a little bit over giddy, but there was something calming about it.

“Well, I could use someone to show me around. These buildings are way too confusing and big for a small town, and this shitty map for sure doesn’t help anything.” Arry lifted up the obviously photo-copied map of the campus on far too large green construction paper. Pete pulled the corner of the map, turning it to the other side. It had been upside down. Arry wanted to die. “Okay, in my defense, I am also too short to see through the crowds of giants.”

“Fair,” Pete nodded in acknowledgement, “I, myself, am not much taller than you, but I can put on this totally aggressive expression that makes people part like the red sea. There’s just something about me that screams murderer, I think.” It sounded like he was proud of it. “Anyway, I can show you around. And you can sit with my crew for lunch. Finally, we can fill the table so we don’t have some rando stealing the last seat so they can stare at us for the duration of lunch.”

“Sounds good,” Arry agreed, not fully understanding what she was getting herself into. Luckily for her, Pete had the next two classes (Biology and Statistics) with her, so the transition between each class and into lunch was an easy one. Pete was a little off, but he was nice, and seemed like a good enough guy to befriend in a shitty hick town, where she was sure there were worse people. The lunch room was packed with kids and loud chatter, and the food was mediocre. Which is why, Pete explained, that he brought his own lunch every day. Plus the fact that there was no vegan options, except for salad, which ‘sucked’, apparently.

Arry loaded up her own plate with mashed potatoes and some shifty looking chicken nuggets, subconsciously eyeing the rest of the room for her mystery guy. He was nowhere to be seen, so far, so resigned, she joined Pete’s table and tried to pay attention to the introductions being thrown at her in a spitfire fashion. “This is Amber. She’s the cool one,” Pete gestured to the girl beside him, who had the most colorful hair she had ever seen, and who was deeply entrenched in snapchat filters. He pointed to the somewhat plain, but fun looking person beside her. “That’s Casey. She wants to be a surgical assistant when she graduates.” Casey waved in greeting. Pete gestured to the girl at the far end of the table, who was watching a very loud music video that seemed to be in Korean. “And that’s Iva. Iva lives and dies for K-pop.” Pulling out a container from his backpack, Pete popped the sides open to reveal cucumber sushi. Of course Pete made sushi.

The lunchroom simmered into a quiet hush, causing Arry to look up from the dissection of her chicken nuggets. All eyes were on the doorway where five kids were entering in an overly dramatic fashion. “Who are they?” Arry nudged Pete, who was wolfing down two pieces of sushi at a time. “Those are the Cullens and Hales, respectively. They live together and bang, which is super weird, but to each their own.” He named each one as they came out; they were easy to distinguish despite the fact that they were all oddly pale and held otherworldly beauty. The first was a couple, one an excessively tall lumberjack type who had a shit eating grin on his face and the classically gorgeous number on his arm. “That’s Rosalie and Emmett. They’re the classic perfect, popular couple.”

Next was another couple, the first a boy with rusty colored hair and creepily intense eyes. He seemed to be amused by something that no one else could hear. The girl he was with, herself, didn’t match the rest, although she was pale, but she was sheepish, and curled in on the boy as if he was her lifeline. “That’s Edward and Bella Swan. They’re a newer couple, and obviously, Bella isn’t related. They’re oddly intense for someone who just met last year.” Arry could agree that yes, they seemed fairly intense. The last through the door was no surprise, but it still made her heart race. God, he was so beautiful Arry could barely take her next breath. “And you know him, obviously. That’s Jasper. The only single one of the bunch. I tried to ask him out one time but then I started laughing because of his Southern accent, and he hates me forever now.”

“Jasper,” The name tasted like fate on Arry’s tongue.

Her attention distracted by the most beautiful boy in the entire world for longer than at least a minute, it took a couple good smacks on her shoulder from Pete to get her to pay attention. “Arry! Geez, you seemed to be in space for a moment there. There’s going to be a party at La Push tonight. You in?” The boy arched a brow and adjusted his glasses.

“La Push?” Arry’s brows furrowed in confusion. That sounded either like an eighteen plus gay club, or some terrible ointment crème for vaginal itch.

“It’s the beach down in Quileute lands. They’re the native tribe that resides in this part of Washington. It’s a pretty popular spot for the kids here, and usually everyone goes to parties there—everyone except them,” He gestured to the paler-than-natural kids secluded at their own two tables. “So…are you in?” Arry was thoughtful for a moment, teeth tearing at the corner of her lip.

“Yeah, sure.”

Arry had gotten herself into more than what she had bargained for. Not only were there about ninety nine point nine percent of her class there (almost all of which she did not know), there was also the kids from the school nearby. They were all drinking, more so the kids from Forks High, but, enough to make Arry slightly uncomfortable. Masses of drunken teens roaming were never her thing, especially when she didn’t know them. But, she told Pete she’d be here, so here she was, not that she saw him.

Oh, no. There he was. Seated around the fireside were Pete and the rest of her new ‘gang’, along with a smattering of darker skinned boys who, she guessed, were contractually obligated to be shirtless. Arry hated fireside hangouts, usually because they got too deep and personal too quick and honestly? They were a little overrated. Making her way over through the crowds of drunken kids, finally, since Pete was now waving frantically (and rather drunkenly) to get her attention, Arry reached the group and took her seat beside Pete. He was wrapped around a taller and far tanner boy who had to be part of the tribe. The boy himself looked rather uncomfortable, and not nearly enough drunk for the conversation Pete was having with him.

“Ya—ya see, I imprinted on you, Seth.” Pete burst into giggles, resting his face on the boy’s shoulder. “I can’t help but be around you. I’ll die if I don’t.”

Seth eyed Pete; he seemed reluctant and rather ruffled, but it didn’t seem like he didn’t want the advance—he actually seemed like he enjoyed it. “That’s not how it works. You’re not a wolf.”

Arry arched a brow, “Excuse me—what?” This was probably the weirdest conversation for her to walk into ever. She definitely wasn’t drunk enough for this.

Snagging a bottle from the cooler beside her log, she turned her attention to the boy who started to answer her question only after taking quite a long gulp of alcohol. “There’s a Quileute legend. That our—ancestors had the ability to transform into wolves when threatened.” He hiccupped, eyes wide with humor. “Quil!” A boy barked at the opposite end of the fire, clearly not wanting him to go on. This might actually be serious. Arry gestured for the hiccupping Quil to continue. “Threatened by what?”

“The Cold Ones.” Quil said with as eerie a tone as a drunken person could. “They’re—they’re vampires. Leeches; pale skin, impossibly cold. They suck innocent people dry just to—just to sustain themselves. There’s a rumor,” He gestured around the circle with his bottle, “That the Cullens are vampires. That older members of the tribe are turning into Spirit Warriors like our ancestors—“

“Quil!” The same boy commanded again, eyes narrowed and dark. “You need to shut your mouth before you say something Sam doesn’t like.”

“Who car-cares about Sam? He’s not my master, Jacob.” The kid practically snarled, bottle falling from his grip and smashing apart once meeting the wood of the log. Arry slid as far away from the two as she could, eyes wide with horror. What kind of party was this?

Jacob was shaking, eyes so dark that Arry could barely differentiate them from the sky above them. “Jacob!” Now a taller, definitely older man was among their midst. He seemed to command the very sand he walked on, tone serious and shoulders steady. Jacob snapped his head towards him, nostrils flaring. The man grabbed his arm and dragged him away; soon, in the distance, Arry could hear a pained howl. Across the fire, Quil jammed his palms into his eyes, seemingly in an immense amount of pain.

Within a flash second, Quil was stumbling in the direction that the other two boys had went. Seth himself seemed to be leaning into Pete’s hold, not that he had much of a choice as the kid had practically been duct taped to the other. Arry took another long swig from her bottle, meeting eyes with Iva over the glass. “Is it true?” She asked, once her mouth was no longer occupied.

Iva finished a text before she looked up again. “I—I don’t know. All I know is that the Cullens and Hales are really, really cold—and I’ve never seen them eat. Their eyes are weird colors and change every day. They’re not normal, at least.” With that, her eyes were glued to her screen once more, Arry being left to let her gaze wander to the trees. Something flittered through them; bright, moving just as she let her eyes settle. As if it didn’t want to be seen.

Excusing herself from the campsite, Arry held her bottle close as she walked to the edge of the beach, a whistling wind picking up as she brushed past the first few branches. “Hello?” She asked, feeling rather stupid talking to nothing. “Is anyone there?” Arry shivered, pulling her hoodie closer to her shoulders. The sound of wind whistled past, much closer to her ears; the crunch of leaves had her turn her head to look behind her.

“A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be out here all by her lonesome.”

Snapping her head back, her next inhale faulted in her chest as she saw what was before her.

Jasper.

          There was something different about Jasper since Arry had last seen him. His eyes were darker, hungrier, and seemed to swallow any light that passed through them. She could barely breathe—the chill of the air plus the growing darkness in Jasper’s eyes sent chills up and down her spine.

          “A pretty lady can go anywhere she wishes all on her lonesome because this isn’t the 1800s where I need permission from my father to go into town,” Arry grew more bold and true to her core with the aid of liquor. “I could say the same to you. Why are you out here by yourself and why are your eyes black when last I saw they were golden?”

          “I don’t need protectin’.” Jasper’s brows furrowed, and he turned to the sound of a twig snapping nearby. “I should not be here.” He murmured more to himself, nose scrunched as if he had caught the scent of something foul. More twigs snapped underfoot, and deep growling erupted from the left of Arry. Not a moment later did a fucking gigantic wolf step into the moonlit clearing, teeth bared, and eyes trained on Jasper.

          Upon seeing the wolf, flanked by a few others, Arry fell into a trance and her bottle fell victim, as Quil’s had only minutes ago, smashing as it hit the forest floor. Pieces of shattered glass embedded themselves into nearby skin and Arry fell backwards into a pile of leaves, eyes rolled back.

          “The Olympic Coven has decided to keep two pet humans? How foolish of them when they already are gaining so much attention.” A woman with deathly pale skin and vibrant red hair snarled, eying Edward, who stood in front of a shaking Bella. “The Vultori will applaud my efforts. Two risks taken out at once, vampires saved from the brutalist ways humanity will react to the knowledge of them.” She stepped towards Edward for a moment, then turned to Arry herself. “Where is your protection, little dove? Who will save you?” Arry felt a cold, strong arm wrap around her neck and squeeze, cutting off the air supply to her lungs. “Silly, fragile mortal.”

          Coming to, Arry wheezed, unable to fill her lungs with any amount of necessary oxygen. The burning pain of the glass pressing into her skin was a sharp contrast to the pain numbing her head, skull having hit a rock as she fell to the ground. Attempting to sit up, all was silent except the ringing in her ears. Stars danced in front of Arry’s vision, eyes taking a moment to adjust. Once she could see again, she stumbled backwards, palms slick with blood. The three wolves stood against Jasper, Edward and some guy who was definitely one of them, but not someone she had met. The ringing in her ears faded to a dull roar and she could hear the conversation between the men.

          “Why are you here, Jasper, we needed you. Victoria got away!” Edward seemed as mean and upset and Arry could foresee him being, teeth bared to the wolves. “Sam wants to kill us and forgo the treaty!”

          “I am truly sorry but seein’ as I was distracted by a smell, I couldn’t do much other than followin’ my instincts.”

          “So, you followed the girl?”

          “As if you can speak on the matter when you have continuously risked all our lives for your precious Bella!”

          “Boys!” The stranger snapped, “We have bigger matters at hand. We must go before Sam acts on his wishes.”

          Jasper took one last look at Arry, nearly desperate with a hungry edge, before the three disappeared into blurs. Arry’s head fell back and connected with the rock once more and everything faded from view.

          When Arry woke again, she was lying in a bed that was not familiar. There was a smell of crackling wood in a fireplace and a distinct feeling of home, something her own usually lacked. Shifting so she was sitting in the bed, Arry looked to her left and saw a plate with eggs and bacon as well as a steaming mug of what she assumed to be coffee. Patting her pockets, Arry noticed that they were not her pockets and none of her belongings were inside, including her phone.

          About to whip the blanket back and stand, someone entered the room. The woman had darker skin and a very pleasant smile, eyes warm enough to settle Arry back into her seat. “I know you must be confused as to where you are. My name is Sue Clearwater and you were brought here after you were found in the forest. You took a pretty nasty fall, there, and the boys brought you here, so I could bandage you up.”

          “The boys?”

          “You were at the party, right? Quil, Sam and Jacob found you. You must’ve taken quite the fall. That’s what alcohol does to you.” The events of last night started to flood Arry’s mind; the party, the talk of spirit warriors and cold ones, the clearing, Jasper, the wolves, glass pressing into her skin. Sue abruptly stood, opening the door and calling for a Seth.

          Seth. The guy Pete was fondling at the party. The boy trotted into the room, all bright smiles, his eyes just as friendly as his mother’s. He pulled up a chair beside the bed and handed Arry the mug of coffee. “Here., You might want this.”

          “You’re the kid Pete was crawling all over yesterday.”

          Seth blushed, looking away for a moment as if he was hiding something. Arry didn’t know what or why. “Yeah. I’m Seth. You must be Arry.”

          “I am.” Arry sipped at the coffee, grateful for the warmth filling her empty stomach.

          “You must be overwhelmed. You saw a lot yesterday, didn’t you?”

          “You mean the wolves or the stories I heard?”

          “And you definitely have questions, which is what I’m here to answer. The pack thought I was the best person to talk to as apparently I’m the friendliest.” Seth seemed proud.

          “I don’t care about what’s going on. I want to go home.” She had just moved to town after all, and this was a bit too much. She missed New England, she missed normalcy. Little did she know the drama was just beginning.

          “You can’t go home.”

          “At least,” Seth chuckled, making this much less menacing, “Not until we know you won’t spill our secrets.” Why send an adorable kid to divulge the news when you can’t even take him seriously?

          “What do you want me to do, pinky swear?” Arry stared at Seth, arched brows, as she sipped at her mug of coffee. “Sign in blood that I won’t talk about giant wolves and cold dead teens? I just moved here, I don’t even have any friends yet, who am I going to tell?” She was going to redact her statement and say maybe she’d started to get to know some people, but no one enough to tell secrets to but was interrupted by the devil himself.

          Not literally the devil. Just the face of a very specific boy peering around the doorway with a pout on his lips “What about me? Are we not friends now, Arry?”

          “It’s been one day. Not even—”

          “Pete, we’re kind of having a serious conversation here.” Seth spoke with a certain amount of authority in his tone, but the blush totally deducted any seriousness in his aura.

          “A serious conversation without me? I’m offended. I am the king of serious conversations and dramatic stares.” Pete plopped down beside Arry’s feet on the bed, resting his own on Seth’s thigh.

          “What is Pete doing here? Is he also a victim of a very serious, very drunken fall?” Arry passed her gaze between the two, sensing that something had happened.

          “Oh, he didn’t want me to drive last night because I was wayyyyyy too drunk, so he brought me here and we snuggled all night.” Pete chirped, taking a drink from a smoothie Arry definitely didn’t notice before.

          “Okay, anyway,” Seth continued, a dark red blush painting the back of his neck, “You can’t tell anyone about what you saw or heard. The wolves, the vampires, nothing. It’s our job to keep the humans safe, and we can’t keep them safe if they’re worried about us hurting them.”

          “Well, then why are certain humans allowed to know?” Arry questioned, noting the fact that Bella Swan apparently knew, Pete knew, and now Arry knew and they wouldn’t do anything about it except tell them to not blab about it.

“A select few being in knowledge wouldn’t do anything. Just like wolves imprinting on humans, it doesn’t mean anything unless rumors spread and it gets more intense, more widely known. What do you think the masses of kids at Forks High would do if they found out that the Cullen’s were vampires?”

          He had a good point.” So, okay, fine, I won’t say anything. Is that what you wanted to hear? What about this Victoria chick that I heard Jasper and Edward name dropping?”

          Seth swallowed hard and dropped his gaze for a moment. “She-she’s this vampire on a mass killing spree. She’s kidnapped dozens of people from the Washington area, kids even. The Cullen’s think she’s building an army to attack us. To attack them.”

          Arry sat up further, sufficiently knocking Pete off balance and spilling a little smoothie down his shirt. “There’s some sort of evil vampire doing evil deeds out there and y’all are just sitting here doing nothing about it?”

          Seth furrowed his brows, “We’re not doing nothing about it. We were in shifts chasing her down, but as of last night she left state lines into Canada and she hasn’t come back. We think that it’s because she’s preparing for a final attack.”

          “And-and what’s the plan, Seth? Are you all going to fight an army of evil deranged vampires?” Arry gestured with her hands, a massive amount of coffee oozing into the light pink comforter wrapped around her. Pete hissed as a few drops landed near him, irritated by this, but not enough to actually pay attention. The kid was on his phone apparently snapchatting Amber with very bizarre face filters.

          “Edward came up with it last night after the party. Jasper is going to train us, he has history with newborns and we’re going to meet up every afternoon to train until we know Victoria is on the move, ready to strike.”

          At the mention of Jasper, Arry’s heart stuttered in her chest. What was it about that boy, apparently vampire, that made her feel so off? “Well, since I know about you all…can I come along to these meetings?”

          Seth made a face, “I-I don’t know…I’m not in charge. But—I can bring it up with Sam.” He fidgeted nervously with his hands.

          “What?” Pete asked, mouth full of bread that he somehow had snuck in here alongside the smoothie. “Can I come then, too? I wanna see giant wolves fight vampires!”

          Seth rolled his eyes, “That’s definitely not happening, how am I supposed to keep you safe and fight the newborns—Wait, I-I-I mean,” The kid lit up in a blush. “I’ll ask Sam, okay? Just, Jesus, okay.”

          “That settles it,” Arry looked over at Pete with an odd sort of smirk on her face, “We’re gunna see supernatural a piss match.”

          After scarfing down the offered breakfast and profusely thanking Sue for her lodge and care, Arry headed out with Pete and Seth back to the beach. Seemingly, Seth couldn’t drive, so the trio was walking through the rainy, eerie forest, which I mean, totally fun, right? Stomping through the woods in clothes that weren’t hers or comfortable was absolutely the best way to spend her day. Her Saturday, the first Saturday in this hellhole known as Forks.

          “Those are my sister’s clothes if you were wondering.” Seth offered, ever present friendly smile bright. She wasn’t. “At least clothes from when she was younger—she was actually a shorter kid until she had a growth spurt. Runs in the family.” Arry wasn’t exactly a fan of small talk but it would do instead of the awkward silence.

          “And what about mine?” Pete questioned, linking his arms with Seth, because it totally wasn’t overdone and obviously that the two liked one another.

          “They’re-they’re mine.” Seth blushed, ducking his head so his eyes were on the ground. There was that awkward silence Arry was so worried about. At least the crunching of the leaves underneath their feet made it slightly less quiet.

          Once the trio had reached the beach they were previously at, Arry stared at the door of her car until she realized she didn’t have her keys. Seth poked her shoulder to get her attention and smiled sheepishly when Arry finally looked at him. Seth had her keys. Of course.  Handing Arry her wallet and her keys, he held out her phone as well a second later. “I put my number in there, just so you wouldn’t ignore my text on whether or not you can come. And other information.”

          “Like if a psychopathic vampire bent on murder is in town again?” Arry arched her brow, sliding her phone into her pocket. She noticed notifications but wasn’t particularly in the mood to answer them.

          “Exactly.” Seth chirped. Waving to her, he made his way over to Pete’s car and Jesus, Arry could see the blush from here. Would those two just get together already? It hadn’t even been a full day of knowing them and yet their gross love story was vehemently obvious.

          The drive back to her new home was filled with silence and Arry’s thoughts. It was a little hard to comprehend the existence of both the undead and werewolves all at once; how they were much different from her preconceived notions of what those monsters were, how they could hide so well in the human population for years without those around them realizing what they really were. It perplexed Arry, truly. What perplexed her more was her immediate attraction to one; she had been attracted to him in a vision, for God’s sake, what was it about him that drew her towards him even now? She supposed it must be the evolutionary way that vampires got their victims: attraction.

          Pulling up to her house, Arry noted that neither of her parent’s vehicles were in the driveway; not that that was so unusual for them, she almost always was left alone to her own devices. She checked her phone: about a million texts from Teresa, one from Pete, and a call from her mother. Along with it was a nondescript voicemail stating that her parents would be out for a weekend long business convention up in Seattle and that Arry would be left by herself for the duration of that time. Sending a quick ‘sorry, I was asleep’ to Teresa’s fifth time of ‘are u even ALIVE GIRL’, Arry sighed and unlocked the front door to an eerie quiet house. It was odd that the cats weren’t making noises, but not particularly unusual.

          Throwing her wallet and keys on the counter, she got a glass, so she could pour herself some orange juice. Pausing while opening the fridge door, Arry let it close with a click behind her and she turned toward the living room. Someone was sitting on the couch, watching the television with the volume muted. Heart hammering in her chest, Arry approached the couch with careful steps, as if that would help anything. They stood as she met the doorway, one foot in the room, the other still outside, and she stared with wide eyes. Of course, it was Jasper, who else would it have been? (Other than a murdering vampire out to ruin the reputation of the coven of vampires that lived in her area.)

          “What are you doing here?” Arry asked, voice quivering. She couldn’t move; all she could do was stare into those once again golden irises, mesmerized.

          “It would have been impolite of me if I had not elected to check on you after I was the cause of your fall the other evenin’.” Jasper spoke, voice smooth and soft as honey. “Are you alright?”

          “I’m fine,” Arry’s brows furrowed, “But you could’ve asked me that when I was at the Clearwater House, not alone in my own home. Why didn’t you then?”

          “The Quileute’s and our Coven have had a treaty for centuries that we will not step on their land to hunt or for any other reason.” That explained what Edward and Jasper were talking about regarding a treaty, and Sam wanting to break it, last night. “So, I had to wait until you were off their lands to check on you. I could not exactly appear in your car while you were driving, least you crash.” He smirked, a mischievous look in his eyes.  

          “What this doesn’t explain,” Arry put her glass down on the coffee table, now so close to Jasper that she could smell him. Okay, what a creepy thought. “Is why you keep following me. Or why you ran away the first time we met. What is it that you want from me?” The question made her heart ache for a reason she couldn’t identify.

          “Well that answer is simple: I want you, darlin’.”

“Well, we all want things, Jasper, but that doesn’t mean we always get them. Also, that’s vague and creepy as hell.” was what Arry should have said, but instead, she replied with, “Wh-what do you mean?”

         Jasper took a few steps towards Arry, arms crossed, smirk seeming to be plastered onto his face. “Well, according to Carlisle, you are my ‘La tua cantante’ and therefore, it is quite hard to resist bein’ around you.”

  “I’m your singing tuna?” Alright, to be fair, Arry had had a long night, and she took ASL at her old school, not Italian. Also, who the fuck was Carlisle?

   Even Jasper’s laugh was melodic and smooth, making something in the deepest corner of her chest ache. “It means blood singer. That your blood sings for me like no other and it is a need runnin’ through my veins to bleed you dry.”

          Okay, well, that was fucking disturbing, but also kind of hot? Arry was conflicted on the matter, but as someone who casually idolized suicide, it was sort of an ideal situation to die by getting bitten by a hot dude who was blood horny for you.

          The blond appeared to sense the tension, approaching closer with tentative, silent steps. A cold, unyielding thumb brushed against Arry’s cheek, an expression of worshipping reverie held in shimmering, golden eyes. A shiver ran up her spine, but she could not look away from his gaze. “But I don’t find myself wantin’ to eat you so much as to be close to you. You are…an intriguing young lady.”

          “I’ve been told that quite a few times,” Arry spoke, breathless, losing herself in those eyes. A part of her, the more logical part knew that she probably shouldn’t feel so safe with someone who had admitted to wanting to literally suck her dry, but also, he was cute and nearly a foot taller than her? Decisions, decisions.

          There were definitely sparks between them, Arry’s heartbeat began to hammer in her chest, and she was sure that he could hear it with the way his eyes darkened and the smirk growing on his lips. He bent to her level, now infinitely closer, her breath ghosting on his lips, his chest ever nonmoving. Inches from each other, Arry leaned in to press their lips together in a kiss when her phone went off in her pocket, causing her to jump and smash the top of her head into his.

          Groaning and rubbing at her probably bruised scalp, Arry gave Jasper an apologetic look as she pulled out her phone, brushing through the messages. It was another concerned text from Teresa, one from Pete, and a text from Seth who, for some reason, entered his full name as a contact, confirming that Sam gave her permission to join them at the training that was happening tonight.

          “So,” Arry posed, eyes meeting Jasper’s again, “Are you going to the training thing tonight, too?” Which, admittedly, she knew after the fact would be a stupid question, because, duh, who else would be going? Some imaginary other vampire family she had made up as a delusion? Likely, as she did hit her head.

          Either way, Jasper seemed amused, eyes glowing as he looked down at her. “I will be attending’, of course, as I will be the teacher of sorts in the fine art of destroyin’ newborn vampires.” Okay, woah. Where did Jasper get that kind of history? Almost as if he had read her mind, he continued to speak. “I have a lot of red in my ledger, and this will be an attempt to remove some of it.” He stopped there, however, Arry was more curious and arched a brow as if to ask him to delve deeper.

          “When I was first turned, a woman played with my heart strings as a corrupt puppeteer and in creatin’ her army, I was also given the task to get rid of those who did not last. My experience is unrivaled to anyone else’s, as I killed numerous newborns. I remember each and every one.” Something in his features grew hard, and Jasper looked more stoic than she’d ever seen him before.

          An awkward silence was blooming, and Arry couldn’t help but feel as though it was her fault. Gaze now on the floor instead of Jasper’s hypnotic golden eyes, Arry lost some of her courage, but was still as steadfast as ever. “Since you’re going, and the Pack has already said that they are okay with me coming, would you mind if I went with you?” It was new and fresh, but she couldn’t help but feel as though whatever was going on between them was something serious.

          Jasper’s hardened face brightened, and he was almost smiling, “It would be my genuine pleasure.” He offered Arry a hand, and awkwardly, she shook it, not sure as to why this was happening. There was that laugh again. “No, no, it’s just more efficient if I carry you.”

          “Uh, what?”

          “Vampires have superspeed. Did no one tell you?” No, no one told Arry anything about anything, in general, but what the fuck ever because now he was lifting her onto his shoulders, and they were broad, and he was cold, but also soft, and honestly, Arry didn’t much enjoy being manhandled, but this was nice.

Okay, she enjoyed being manhandled. “Not that I mind the whole no physical distance thing, but where exactly are we going via your very fast, very dead legs?”

“The meetin’. Jasper explained, hooking Arry’s limbs tighter around him. “It’s happenin’ any moment now, and I can’t miss it.” Without another word, they were flying out the door and Arry was left wondering if they should have locked it before they left, or if it really mattered when the worst out here were murderous vampires hell bent on revenge that could definitely break in, clearly, whether there was a lock or not.

It was a debate for another time.

There was something oddly comforting about riding a vampire, and before your mind immediately lands in the gutter, it was meant in the least sexual way possible. It was also partially terrifying, but feeling the cool breeze against your skin, the immoveable flesh beneath you, it was almost like you were invincible. Arry didn’t mind this one bit, and perhaps, she would jot this down as her preferred mode of transportation. Alas, all things had to come to an end, and after about ten minutes of running, Jasper began to slow down and eventually, stopped in a clearing. Arry could hear voices in a brief distance, so she was mildly confused as to why they stopped where they did, but, she kept her silence as she dropped from the blonde’s back and stretched her limbs, which now that she thought about it, felt a bit numb.

Jasper turned toward her, eyes alit with an emotion she could not read, and interlocked their fingers together. Arry wasn’t used to the feeling of his skin quite yet, couldn’t comprehend how it felt so smooth and hard at the same time, like a diamond, but understood when they stepped through a patch of sun—the undead man lit up and sparkled as though he was coated in glitter, and Arry knew then that she would be helpless to resist him. I mean, c’mon, who could resist someone who looked like a jewel!

“I just wanted to warn you, before the training. It might be a bit tense—the wolves and us aren’t really on good terms at the moment, both because of the Bella Jacob Edward love triangle and because of last night. It would probably be best if we weren’t seen being affectionate.” It was…definitely weird to hear that coming from someone Arry literally met a day and a half ago, as she wasn’t particularly affectionate with people she wasn’t close to, but even she could admit that she was already attached to the vampire. Which was probably dangerous and not at all a good idea, but yolo, right?

“I’ll try to my best to keep my hands off of you,” Arry replied, lips turning up in a smirk. Hey, she was a natural flirt, alright? It was part of her innate charm. Responding with a smirk of his own, Jasper released their hands, offering a press of lips to her knuckles; the contrast of their skin tones were alarming, but not enough to make Arry step away. “If you’d be so kind,” Jasper gestured for her to step out into the clearing first, not wanting for it to seem like they arrived together. How she would’ve arrived otherwise, Arry had no idea, but the looks on the other’s faces told her that they knew who she was with, and what had just transpired. One could guess that supernatural beings had super hearing, but did a non-supernatural being ever think about it? Probably not.

Sitting down beside Pete, who’s hand was fist deep in a wolf’s fur (she assumed Seth’s), Arry stuck her hands in her pockets, eyes travelling around the circle audience. There were about a dozen wolves, most of which she wouldn’t even try to guess who they were, on one side and the Cullen’s on the other side of the clearing. Neither group seemed particularly comfortable, and the wolves definitely stiffened when Jasper joined the rest of them, sending a knowing glance to Arry. Alright, perhaps she loved and stanned. “Have I missed anything?” She stage whispered to Pete, who seemed oddly out of it and less chirpy than she was used to. Pete shook his head, “They’ve mostly just been staring and growling slash hissing at one another. This is not as fun as I thought it’d be.” It was tense, so Arry would be quick to agree.

Arry watched as Edward and who she presumed to be Carlisle speak quietly to one another before the older man spoke out loud to the group. “Jasper has experience with newborns. He’ll teach us how to defeat them.” It was silent for a moment, then, Edward’s voice echoed through the trees.

“They want to know how newborns differ from us.”

“They’re a great deal stronger than us, because their own human blood lingers in their tissues. Our kind is never more physically powerful… … than in our first several months of this life.” Carlisle elaborated, then gestured at Jasper to continue.

“Carlisle’s right. That’s why they are created. A newborn army doesn’t need thousands like a human army. And no human army could stand against them. The two most important things to remember are, first… Never let them get their arms around you. They’ll crush you instantly. The second… Never go for the obvious kill. They’ll be expecting that. And you will lose.” Jasper had been pacing to and fro in front of the audience while he spoke, only pausing now as he gave instructions. “Now, pair up, one wolf to one vampire. I will inspect each bought in turn and give tips where necessary.”

Arry wasn’t one much for violence, and even if she was, she wouldn’t be able to truly see what was going on—the skirmishes were thoroughly too fast for her to be able to watch. Thus, she turned to Pete and conversed. This was the structure to two days after this—waking up, stuffing a backpack full of food for her and Pete, Jasper picking her up and small bit of romance between moments of training. She honestly didn’t understand how the wolves and vamps weren’t exhausted (perhaps they were, and she just couldn’t tell?), but with the tension growing more and more each day, Arry knew that they didn’t have the time to be exhausted.

The fifth day of living in Forks, Arry kind of actually had to go school, since the weekend was over. Shoving her backpack full of school supplies instead of snacks, Arry paused with her grasp around the strap, eyes rolling back into her head as she was sent into a trance.

The crunch of boots against leaves. A flash of pale, sparkling skin. Hair that seemed as though it was in flames. A figure outside Bella’s room, staring at her from the shadows. Blood splattering, a faint scream in the distance.

Breathing heavily as she came back to, Arry rubbed at her eyes before fishing her phone at out of her pocket, fingers shaking as she dialed the number. “Jasper, she’s coming. Soon. Today.”

So much for going back to school, right?

Not a moment later was Jasper running into the kitchen, arms wrapping around and securing Arry to his side, so the trance wouldn’t send her tumbling. “What did you see, darlin’?” She had honestly never heard him so concerned, and that sent a certain warmth blooming in her chest. “It was Victoria. She was watching Bella, she—she’s coming, Jas, she’s almost here. I heard—I heard Bella die,” Well, that was quite the uplifting start to one’s morning. Without a word, Jasper plucked Arry up into his arms and resumed the past few days’ ritual—arriving in the clearing, the vampire knelt down and deposited Arry beside Seth, who’s hands were stuffed in his pocket, concern very evident on his features. “Watch her. We must formulate a plan.” Seth nodded wordlessly, and Jasper sped off. Brushing her hair out of her face, Arry looked up at the kid, some sort of sass unable to roll off her tongue like it normally could. Her mouth felt dry, and she kind of wanted to throw up. Whatever, it was going to be okay, right? What could a murderous vampire do if it hadn’t done much of anything already?

“Did you really see Bella die?” When Seth spoke, it was clear that he felt just as scared as Arry did in that moment.

“I can’t be positive, but she was watching her. I heard a scream and I saw blood. Visions aren’t always helpful, I mostly see what I would see from my own perspective. I’m sorry—I don’t know.” Arry curled up into herself, tucking her knees underneath her and kept her eyes on the horizon. Seth stayed silent after that.

Minutes later, but what felt like grueling hours, Jasper returned, brows furrowed and stance one of irritation. “Arry, we’re going to have Seth carry you up the mountain to mask your scent. Hopefully this keeps you safe from Victoria, as we are attempting with Bella. I cannot leave you by yourself, though, certainly not with her on the loose. Who knows what she and her army are capable of?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Arry sighed and stood on shaky legs, allowing Seth to lift her into his arms, which was actually a little impressive, because he wasn’t a particularly buff looking fellow, but, again, there must be something in the water here in Forks. Resting her cheek against Seth’s shoulder, Arry watched his profile. “Don’t you think Pete will get jealous?” Well, at least she could still tease. That part of her was safe.

Seth’s cheeks heated with heady blush, and it was clear that Arry had ruffled him. “Probably, but he’s still asleep. You wouldn’t tell him, right?” Ha, and not see her new friends get in a bit of drama? As if! This was a tea friendly household, after all.

“Why is he still asleep? School started an hour ago, right?”

“We kind of went camping to find a spot for Bella and Edward to hide when Victoria’s army comes. He’s still crashed out.” Arry wanted to voice the implications of that statement but couldn’t bring herself to continue teasing the young wolf. Whatever Pete and Seth did in their free time while remaining vigilant about evil vampires was their business—and, Pete would probably tell her later.

          Once they reached their destination, Arry was again placed on the ground. Edward stood in front of Bella, though he relaxed in posture when he saw that it was just her and Seth. Arry stood off to the side, trying to shake away her fear. There was just a sort of feeling in the air, as though something was going to happen that none of them were expecting. As though she was forgetting something important. Edward and Seth stiffened all of a sudden, and Arry was sure that they could hear something she couldn’t. Bella watched Edward’s features with a gaze full of fear, and he spoke to her in low tones. Seth moved to Arry’s side. “Victoria’s here. I’m going to shift so that I can fight if anyone comes up here.” Seth squeezed Arry’s arm and disappeared behind the trees, returning moments later in wolf form.

          It couldn’t be thirty minutes later that Arry started to shiver, both the cold and the ominous feeling getting to her more than she’d like. Seth gave her a sympathetic look before his head snapped towards the entrance to their little alcove, teeth bared and growling. Following his gaze, Arry stepped backwards and nearly tumbled, eyes wide with fear. It wasn’t her, wasn’t Victoria, no, but it was a man who was clearly a vampire and his red eyes did not bode well for them, as she knew that the gold meant something entirely different.

          “She knew you’d be with me,” Edward seems shaken, hearing things that the others could not. “Riley… Listen to me. Victoria’s just using you, to distract me. But she knows I’ll kill you. In fact, she’ll be glad she doesn’t have to deal with you anymore.” The red eyed immortal appeared to hesitate, words resonating somewhere within him. Victoria emerged from the woods, beside Arry and Seth.

          “Don’t listen, Riley. I told you about their mind tricks.” Victoria’s voice is more frightening than Arry previously guessed, and it had her heart racing to be so close to the bad intentioned vampire.        

          “I can read her mind, so I know what she thinks of you.”

          “He’s lying.”

          “She only created you and this army to avenge her true mate, James. It’s the only thing she cares about. Not you.”

          “There’s only you. You know that.” Riley’s eyes lock with Victoria’s, and while for a moment, there seemed to be doubt in his gaze, it’s gone within a second. Victoria turns from him to the two beside her, small smirk growing as she saw that Arry was there, and in fact, a disposable blood bank. At least, that’s what Arry assumed. “Riley, distract Edward, please.” It happened within a flash—Victoria flung Seth against the rock face to the left and the boy howled in pain and went limp, while Riley held Edward in a headlock, the man struggled to fight against his hold, practically roaring as he glared at Victoria, who is only getting closer to Arry and Bella.

          “The Olympic Coven has decided to keep two pet humans? How foolish of them when they already are gaining so much attention.” Victoria addressed them, gaze flashing with malice.  “The Vultori will applaud my efforts. Two risks taken out at once, vampires saved from the brutalist ways of humanity.” She took a step towards Bella for a moment, then turned to Arry herself. “Where is your protection, little dove? Who will save you?” Arry felt a cold, strong hand wrap around her neck and squeeze, cutting off the air supply to her lungs. “Silly, fragile mortal.” Victoria tightened her grip, tongue lapping at dry, cracking lips. She was meant to be her dinner, wasn’t she? Arry slammed her eyes shut, fearful but welcoming her evident demise when, out of nowhere, the hand released her, and she crumpled in a heap on the ground.

          Gasping and blinking away tears, Arry struggled for breath. It was a blur, tears still soaking her vision, but she saw a golden-haired angel slam Victoria into the ground, groaning with effort as they attempted to shove her further into the patchy snow-covered earth. Victoria rotated and kicked out, the angel flying backwards and crashing through a few trees. The red head returned to her and Arry felt a sharp pain against her shoulder, suddenly weak, and cried out as poison pumped through her veins. The pin prick feeling against her skin was gone, but the pain remained, and Arry felt as though she was on fire. She couldn’t help but scream, back arching as she fell, spasming on the ground.

          There were sounds of battle around her, the crack of what sounded like two rocks colliding, and then the angel was in front of her, cold hands against her overheated skin. “Get Carlisle! She’s turning—Edward, please!” Edward and Bella disappeared and were replaced with what she thought was Seth and Pete, Pete groggily wiping at his eyes. “What’d I miss—holy shit, Arry!” He knelt beside her and grasped uselessly at her wound, eyes wide with fear. “It-it’s going to be okay,” She murmured in an attempt to wipe fear from his face, but it only made him panic. The pain reached a whole new level, and Arry let out a blood curdling scream before everything went black.

When Arry came to, everything felt…different. Before, she needed glasses or contacts to correct her vision, and had trouble hearing if she wasn’t paying close enough attention. Opening her eyes now, knowing she had neither glasses nor contacts on, Arry saw more than she ever had before. She could see particles of dust floating in front of her, the slight flickering of a lightbulb all the way across the room. She could hear conversation downstairs, birds chirping deeper in the forest. Arry felt new, and studier, and moreover, more than anything else, Arry felt starved. Her stomach ached, and it felt like the back of her throat was burning. She heard a steady thrum and the fire ignited, having her running before she even knew it, dashing out the window and across a lawn she had never seen before, and into the tree line. Arry’s body drove her forward instinctually and stopped only when it found what it was looking for. A man, hiking in the woods, nose huge and face looking similar to that of a pug’s.  Dashing up to him, Arry’s teeth tore into his throat and he let out a screech, hands pushing against her. Minutes passed as the new vampire drained him dry, gulping the life force from him. The man collapsed like a sack of potatoes against the forest floor, and Arry spared a moment’s glance to his name tag—which read JASON in all caps—before there were others upon her. Specifically, Jasper and Carlisle, one of whom looked utterly horrified, and the other actually smirking a little, as though he was proud of her. “Well, looks like she won’t need adjustin’, Carlisle.”

The trio returned to the house after they had covered the corpse with copious amounts of branches and the like, hoping that the man was unknown enough to not matter or for it to be a while before he was found. The course of the next week was spent teaching Arry the ropes—what she could do, what she was, and what she should eat; the evenings were spent in more fun ways, but the narrator is not one to divulge upon his friend’s sex life—let’s just say that the Major quickly laid claim to the girl upon her being turned, despite the negative circumstances.

Arry returned to her own home the following Sunday, knowing that her parents wouldn’t have even noticed that she gone, or even had come home themselves. There was a new note on the fridge replacing the one she had seen over a week ago, stating that her parents were gone for the month now, and honestly, Arry was not surprised. She literally died and came back to life and they hadn’t noticed. Unable to sleep, for obvious vampiric reasons, Arry spent the evening going about the house and cleaning and organizing, actually unpacking the remaining boxes left behind. She also made sure to properly feed before school, taking down a rather aggressive mountain lion and relishing in the feeling of the hunt. Perhaps she was a little to quick to the vampire lifestyle, but let’s all be honest here, it was definitely easier and more fun than being a human.

The following day started off almost as though she was still human—Arry drove to school and was actually early to class, delighted upon seeing Pete already sitting down. He hadn’t seen her since Victoria’s attack, and she could tell that he had missed her if the tight hug was any indication. “Thank God you’re okay, they said you would just turn, but I was so worried,” Pete sighed, releasing the other, “At least you’re calm enough that you aren’t trying to eat me.”

“Blood lust is somehow easier than everyone makes it seem. I only kind of want to rip out your throat,” Arry supplied, joking, though Pete did arch his brow in question. “What’d I miss? Did you and Seth finally get together?”

Pete literally lit up like a candle, and Arry knew that they had, “After the Cullens took you, it kind of all snowballed from there. Sam was pissed off but when he realized, by listening to Seth’s recollection of what happened, that you hadn’t been turned intentionally, they couldn’t do much. Seth and I snuck away, and we cuddled all night. And then, like, two days ago, we fucked, but I digress. We’re dating, and I missed you so fuckin’ much.” Arry was pulled into another hug and honestly, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Between classes, Pete took a bathroom break and Arry murdered an annoying ass student who wouldn’t stop talking about his new hair behind the gym, but ya know, we all have our own breaks, and sometimes you just had to murder people named DeShawn who wouldn’t shut the fuck up. By the time Lunch rolled around, Arry was feeling more at ease and definitely satiated since her meal, sitting comfortably at her table of friends. Casey was oddly not there, and instead someone named Jordan was sitting in her place which Pete explained by saying that ‘they were contractually obligated to replace Casey because she was a boring character’. Arry also had a pleasant call with Teresa, who was beyond delighted to see that Arry was not dead after not having answered her calls for the past week, and who announced that she would be coming to visit in the next two weeks. Life was looking up, and already, Arry could tell that she would enjoy life more now that there was a bit of spice in it. Being undead kind of did that.

The cafeteria fell into a hush and if Arry’s heart could still beat, she knew that it would be racing—the girl knew what was coming next. The Cullen family entered the room in their usual dramatic procession, followed on the rear by none other than Jasper, who immediately met eyes with Arry across the room. Racing toward him, failing to control her new speed, Arry launched herself at him and he plucked her up, lifting her above him and spinning her around, laughing. “Well, good morning to you too, darlin’.”

Arry realized that this was how she wanted to spend the rest of her life. Luckily, she had just that. The future was looking bright.

                                                                   THE END

[cloudydamage3]

Erin Hoover's Playlist for Her Poetry Collection "Barnburner"

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Erin Hoover's Playlist for Her Poetry Collection "Barnburner"

In the Book Notes series, authors create and discuss a music playlist that relates in some way to their recently published book.

Previous contributors include Jesmyn Ward, Lauren Groff, Bret Easton Ellis, Celeste Ng, T.C. Boyle, Dana Spiotta, Amy Bloom, Aimee Bender, Heidi Julavits, Hari Kunzru, and many others.

Erin Hoover's Barnburner, awarded the 2017 Elixir Press Antivenom Poetry Award, is a timely work of politics, feminism, and humanity.

PANK wrote of the collection:

"Erin Hoover’s debut poetry collection Barnburner is replete with powerful and timely character-studies. Each character, whether a bad boss, a junkie, a peer on a different path, a boyfriend, or a mugger is examined with the same mordant empathy Hoover is incredibly adept at employing."

In her own words, here is Erin Hoover's Book Notes music playlist for her poetry collection Barnburner:

I am not a musician. As a poet, I’m more in love with the syntax of the sentence complicated by line break than with the music of words. But for much of my life, I have been musician adjacent, hanging out with people in bands and going to shows and then to parties after shows. There was a time in my life where I was likely to be in a reasonably sized party with Interpol or living in the loft where Matt and Kim were setting up a show. And I have always been a “hard listener” to music. I will analyze a song like a text: what a song means, why it’s important, the context of its writing.

I created this playlist for Barnburner from the time period in which I had certain experiences that inspired the fictional narratives of the book. Barnburner is a group of poems organized around tone. The book’s epigraph describes the origin of the word ‘barnburner’: the farmer who burns down his barn to get rid of a rat infestation. I’m not sure if this comes out of America’s puritanical origins, but I think that in our country political and personal commitment is tied to risking annihilation. Not nihilism, where nothing holds meaning, but the opposite: whatever concerns the barnburner at a particular moment in time must mean everything. As my most rock-n-roll friend used to say, riffing on This Is Spinal Tap: “I go up to eleven.”

1. “Clampdown” – The Clash

I used to drive around central Pennsylvania listening to the Clash in high school. I was college bound, but I understood the energetic hopelessness behind “Clampdown,” certain that I was in some way entering into the service economy version of factory life. I don’t think I got the double meaning of working for in “Working for the clampdown” until later on. Now I also know firsthand how you can be both a victim of the clampdown but also one of its unwitting agents. The first poem in Barnburner, “The Lovely Voice of Samantha West,” is about global capitalism, and there are others about labor in general. As a bonus for me, the Clash shout out my hometown of Harrisburg at the end of “Clampdown” because international media attention around the Three Mile Island nuclear accident in 1979 made Harrisburg into an emblem of the American working-class city. I’m not sure that people now living in Harrisburg conceive of the place that way, but I did, growing up there.

2. “50ft Queenie” – P J Harvey

P J Harvey blew off the top of my head with this song, which I first saw as a video on MTV’s 120 Minutes. I loved all of Rid of Me. I, too, wanted to be a tough, unapologetic bitch and to turn the tables on people, mostly men, who had made me feel powerless. That’s how I read “50ft Queenie.” Although now I reject the idea that I have to appropriate masculine ideas of power to be powerful, I will love all of P J Harvey’s music until the end of time.

3. “Open Heart Surgery” – The Brian Jonestown Massacre

My affection for “Open Heart Surgery” is heavily influenced by the video for it, which pairs Survival Town Atom Test footage from 1955 with a sound characteristic of one of my favorite bands. The U.S. military built “Survival Town” in the middle of the Nevada desert—the video includes construction scenes too, mannequins being placed in domestic poses—to test the effects of detonating an atomic weapon. What results is something like the mental landscape that produced the poems in Barnburner, an impression helped along by Anton Newcombe wailing and a barebones guitar riff. Not that I’ve suffered more than anybody else—I’m absolutely sure that’s not true—but I’ve tried to interrogate what I know of anguish, in particular, belonging to a cultural system that fundamentally doesn’t respect the same things I do.

4. “Head Like a Hole” – Nine Inch Nails

As a pure expression of rage, “Head Like a Hole” fits the feeling some readers will find in Barnburner. The book has been called angry. I’m including this song for the addict friend of mine who inspired the M. character in several poems, for the endless hours we spent driving through Pennsylvania back roads listening to industrial music because somebody might have a pill to sell us. The lyric “I’d rather die than give you control” is ironic in this context, because like the characters in the song, we had no control outside of using twenty bucks we’d scared up to fulfill our own death wish. Americans prefer to see addiction as an individual moral failing rather than a natural response to late-stage capitalism, calibrated according to various social factors. I wish it were different.

5. “It’s So Hard to Fall in Love” – Sebadoh

I’m not a monster. There are tender poems in Barnburner, mostly about children and wanting to protect them, and poems about being naive myself. Even as a teenager, when I first heard this Sebadoh song, I was amused by the line, “It’s so hard to fall in love / Knowin’ all I know / Seeing all the things I see,” because how does any young lover know anything? And yet I knew that I loved Lou Barlow for writing those lyrics, for making a lo-fi song about falling in love built on the rhythm of a heart beating.

6. “Taste the Floor” – Jesus and Mary Chain

I’ve heard this band called pure dirt. The Jesus and Mary Chain are too much. Fuzzed-out melodies played loud as fuck. Lyrics tinged with bored masochism and sung without affect. I’d nominate the whole album Psychocandy for this playlist. “Taste the Floor” struts in a dark room and then kicks in the way a strong drink or a drug kicks in. And while I don’t understand the lyrics, I don’t have to. No, I will not turn the music down.

7. “New Year” – The Breeders

May I present the Breeders, loud women (and one man) writing powerful songs and playing kick-ass guitars and drums. You can blow out a car speaker with these songs. As for “New Year,” it’s a hard-driving race to the finish once you get past the line “It’s true,” which is a nice pivot if you think about it. I conceive of Barnburner as a race-to-the-finish book, with narratives that I hope propel the reader to go on. Additionally, the Breeders recorded one of two songs I’ve ever learned how to play on guitar (though not this one). See my poem “What Is the Sisterhood to Me?” for the other.

8. “I Wanna Be Your Dog” – The Stooges

Although the Stooges are an American band, “I Wanna Be Your Dog” was standard at early-2000s New York City Britpop nights at Don Hill’s or Bar 13, and it will always put me right back at last call with a mouth tasting like tonic water and ashtray. When Iggy Pop sings, “And now I'm ready to feel your hand / And lose my heart on the burning sands,” I’m ready to jump up and down with everybody else. Barnburner tries in places to capture a post-9/11 feeling as experienced by a certain group of people who were newly adult in 2001 or 2002, when we all thought we were going to die, not from terrorists, but from the stupid actions of our own government, and we danced like it.

9. “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” – Cat Power

Chan Marshall’s version of the Rolling Stones song is stripped down and contemplative. I don’t think that I could hear, really hear, Mick Jagger sing “Satisfaction” until I heard Cat Power. I also liked a woman singing this song, the woman as the protagonist who grapples with the emptiness of capitalism. I have wanted to be a woman who could do that. Also, that last line. And I’m tryin’.

10. “Resist Psychic Death” – Bikini Kill

I listened to many riot grrrl bands in high school and college because it felt incredible to hear shouted alternate ideas about sexuality and gender after absorbing so much toxic masculinity, especially in punk rock circles. Bikini Kill is the band I continue to listen to. For me, “Resist Psychic Death” is about pushing back against someone else’s narrative, and thus agenda, for your own life. Those false narratives are part of what I’m trying to pull apart and take down with Barnburner. I want to be the author of my own life, and to me that’s still revolutionary. These lyrics! Listen and learn: “There’s more than two ways of thinking / There’s more than one way of knowing / There’s more than two ways of being / There’s more than one way of going somewhere.”

11. “Prayer to God” – Shellac

Two girls from Washington, D.C. who were into hardcore taught me how to dance, and it was one of those girls who introduced me to Shellac back when 1000 Hurts was new. After listening to me go off about some injustice I’d experienced from a dude, she whispered, “You’ve got to hear this song” and played it for me. “Prayer to God” is more melodic than other Shellac songs, but true to the band’s usual driving rhythms and angular guitars. Like a prayer, the song begins with an address to God and ends with an Amen. The diction switches between holy and profane, between the poetry of a man asking God to strike his beloved “Where her necklaces close / Where her garments come together / Where I used to lay my face” and increasingly loud refrains to kill the lover who has replaced him: “Fuckin’ kill him already, kill him.” For me, there is an important distinction between making poetry that is crafted vs. poetry that is merely polished. Craft can evoke rawness, too. Shellac nails that distinction for me, musically speaking. Sometimes fuck is the word that you need.

Erin Hoover and Barnburner links:

the author's website

Glass review Grist review PANK review Publishers Weekly review

Connotation Press interview with the author The Pinch interview with the author Rob McLennnan interview with the author Tallahassee Democrat profile of the author

also at Largehearted Boy:

Support the Largehearted Boy website

Book Notes (2015 - ) (authors create music playlists for their book) Book Notes (2012 - 2014) (authors create music playlists for their book) Book Notes (2005 - 2011) (authors create music playlists for their book) my 11 favorite Book Notes playlist essays

Antiheroines (interviews with up and coming female comics artists) Atomic Books Comics Preview (weekly comics highlights) guest book reviews Librairie Drawn & Quarterly Books of the Week (recommended new books, magazines, and comics) musician/author interviews Note Books (musicians discuss literature) Short Cuts (writers pair a song with their short story or essay) Shorties (daily music, literature, and pop culture links) Soundtracked (composers and directors discuss their film's soundtracks) weekly music release lists

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Source: http://www.largeheartedboy.com/blog/archive/2018/10/erin_hoovers_pl.html

[voidfirenate]

Fire or. . . Ice. . . Or Darkness (part 2)

“Welcome home, Brother.” The words were some of the warmest  ever spoken to him, as the half breed climbed the newly constructed stones to a small bar building. His gaze read the sign put up marking its name, a name that never stayed the same as K’zai was always changin his mind. Most the locals just call it the K’s place, which was appropriate all on its own. Outreaching his arms, he was embraced by a smaller black haired miqote man. They pulled into each other tight, something Nate never did. He didn’t touch people, tensing when touched in such a manner like this but with K… It was okay. “I have missed you much, Lancer.” The catte man greeted him with such a familiar nickname it tugged at his very heart. Finally pulling back, he grinned while fighting the urge to laugh as he was bursting with happiness. “Aye, and I you. I wish I could have visited sooner but better late than never. “ He chuckled breathless as he was looked over to double checks the men’s health. The miqote’s face fell slowly. Nate had discarded his coat for a much warmer suit of clothes, which unfortunately exposed his heavily bandaged arms. The fine black tail lashed from left to right as his irritation was rising from seeing him hurt, “WHat. Happened.” The cat’s words were tight and authoritarian, probably from telling several of his hired barmate what to do but Nate wasn’t under his employment so he stood his ground. “A Fight. With an enemy of the companies but as you can see I’m alright.” He let the smile become warm and reassuring even as his friend tsk’ed. Turning his back to walk to the bar, as Nate exhaled. At least he didn’t jump on his arse about staying and that the company wasn’t good for him. It would ruin the moment and he knew it which meant he was holding restraint for his injured friend. —————————————–Later that Night———————————————

It was a party. A full blown party, ranging from familiar to unfamiliar faces. Moana had her baby. Carren had snagged him a woman. Furrow was still a drunken ass but never left the room without making them laugh. Nate watched them for a long moment, remembering them all fondly but… The longer he watched, he began to slowly see the Order member’s faces. All laughing and drinking, having the time of their life like they’d been told the best news. It was so bittersweet it hurt, as the man pushed himself up from his corner and limped slowly to the outside porch.

He needed to be alone. To wrangle the rampant thoughts and heartache at missing his friends. There were still so many to get to know and here he was running to the things he already knew rather than staying home. As his shame hit, a hand gripped his shoulder firmly. Chin moving to let his eyes look to K’zai as he stepped out with him, “Tired?” He asked first, pulling out a cigarette from a finely engraved case in his trousers.. Nate shook his head then paused as maybe he was… “Just confused.” He answered quietly, while leaning over onto the rails an letting his gaze move out to the landscape. Off the balcony was a vast mountain land, with jaw dropping cliffs and wide black sky decorated with bright and dimming stars. Soft footsteps made their way to the man as he settled in next to the much taller half breed, “You’re thinking about them?” Slow nod, waiting on some sort of backlash from the words but there was know. “Guess that means this visit will be short. . “ His voice was even but he’d known his old company mate long enough to catch the sad in the words and as much as Nate wanted to tell him that’s not true… it was. “Aye. .  Cant leave em alone too long. Oni’s wont call me for shite. I know that, he’ll try to let me ‘relax’ or some other reason I’m sure. Not that he /needs/ me. Not that any of them need me. They’re far stronger with or without me and will work perfectly, even in my absence…” A tail flicked his shoulder, making his violets move to see what he wanted. “Why do I sense a ‘but’. “ Nate inhaled as he stared into those searching brown eyes before he exhaled. “But… They have me. Whether they like it or not. I’m gonna be their trump card, there to pull their arses from the fire when they’ve bitten off more than they can chew. I’ll wait in the shadows of sorts… Distance myself while at the same time, not. A . .  Guardian of sorts.” K’zai’s surprise was written on his friend, with eyes widening and mouth falling to gap a little. That didn’t sound like him… Nate never stayed quiet, never thought things through, never sounded as … sure of himself as he did in the moment. It was easy to see he’d made up his mind. “Well look at you… All grown up.” That earned the cat a snort an a short dodged cuff at his large lynx like ears. “Ha. ha.” Soon they were both grinning like mad men, as they settled into a comfortable silence. “I’m serious though Nate. Dont change, even if you think you must thats all the more reason to stay how you are.” The half breed blinked a few times in surprise then lowered his eyes to the ground an smiled softly. Breathing a quiet sigh, “I’m gonna head out tomorrow night, check around Ishgard once more for my grandfather then head home. Would wait for Than but I… I cant let it go that he’s so close yet so far, ya know?” K bobbed his head while he put the newly lit cigarette to his lips and pulling in the narcotic drug before blowing it out into the night air. “Then lets drink. Drink till our bellies hurt then we’ll see what to do in the daylight hours.” He grin but Nate laughed, “We’ll sleep! “ He whooped loud enough to catch the other attention, resulting in a chain of whoops and calls that echoed late into the air.

Nate smiled. He’d be home soon… just hoped they… “I’ll be better… Even if it kills me.” ——————————————-Next day———————————————–

“Gods… My head… is still hurting. Can’t even teleport to Ishgard from here. . “ He complained as he continued on his path down through the Coerthas Western Highlands. All to get to Falcons Nest, and it was bloody cold as shite! He pulled the coat tighter, while he wished the chocobo would walk smoother. Grumbling to himself most the way, a wind hitting him from the side he missed it. The shadows trailing him. Wandering just out of sight until. .  it was too late. Unknown assailant dropped down from the icy cliffs onto Nate, but rather than an easy capture the man through three of them off him. Crashing into the snow, the man slide off the bird to growl at the men. “You are fucking with the wrong man. I’m out of medicine /and/ have a headache. So I hope you told the gods to forgive you cause I’m about to send you to meet them.” He snarled running forward only for to see them snicker and run. Still chasing with confusion, Nate watched in both surprise and mild panic as a large white Aevis erupted from a mound. He knew this dragon… So many years ago… “Shite.” Now it was his turn to run, but never made it an ilm as a larger tail thwacked him in the shoulder. The blinding pain of the burns and the impact made the world go black with a hand reaching up to touch his pearl… Then nothing.