i'm your hell, i'm your dream; i'm nothing in between

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ: Part 12

“Hearts Don’t Break Around Here”

Joel Miller x f!o/c

A/N: this actually might have been my favorite chapter to write. It’s so beautiful ♡

Summary: just a group of friends/lovers pretending that the horrors that lay outside a white picket fence, no longer exist for a day. No apocalypse, no death, no carnage, no violence. Just good wine, full bellies, laughter and oh, love. Lots and lots of love.

~word count: 7k~

Warnings: implied age gap, established relationship, brief mentions of angst, swearing, soft! joel, he’s so sweet your teeth will hurt! joel, fluff, consumption of alcohol, nicknames, so much flirting, teasing, feelings, emotion, comforting themes, light smut, consent, consent, consent, cockwarming. (+18) minors dni!

Songs for this chapter:

“Hearts Don’t Break Around Here” by Ed Sheeran

“Second Chances” by Gregory Alan Isakov

“Kiss Me” by Ed Sheeran

“From Eden” by Hozier

“Like Real People Do” by Hozier

“The Last Waltz” by Engelbert Humperdinck

“Heaven” by Niall Horan

“Somethin’ Stupid” by Nancy & Frank Sinatra

“A Man Without Love” by Engelbert Humperdinck

June 2021 : Boston QZ

“Oh my god, she has fuckin turned you into a goddamn marshmallow!” Tess was in absolute disbelief when Joel Miller sat across from her, with chipped purple nail polish on his nails.

He let out a scoff while he tried to hide his small grin. Yeah, okay maybe you had turned this grumpy man into a marshmallow. Soft, fluffy, gooey. All the things that no one would ever believe Joel Miller could actually be. “It’s just a bit of nail polish, Tess. It ain’t that big of a deal.”

The two friends sat across from each other in the community square. It was blazing out. The sun was beating down on them unforgivingly. They each had a cup of homemade hooch in front of them. Joel would have been back at the apartment with you but you had kicked him out. Not permanently, of course. Just for a few hours because as much as you loved having him there every waking moment of the day, you needed your space. Of course, your newfound lover fought you on it at first, until he reluctantly gave in. He supposed that a bit of space from each other wouldn’t do any harm.

Tess had grinned at him over the rim of her cup. It was pretty glaringly obvious that Joel had it bad for you. “Where is she anyway? I Expected you two to be tied at the hip, if you weren’t already.”

“She kicked me out.” He took a sip then before adding, “Not permanently. Think i’ve been suffocating her a bit. She wanted some space to herself. Can’t really blame her, but you know how I am.”

“You’re as stubborn as a mule Joel.”

“You’re right. Ain’t nothin gonna change that either.” He looked around for a moment and felt the sweat dripping down the back of his neck from the blazing sun. “So, what’re you doin out here Tess? You got a hot date you’re waitin for or somethin?”

When she didn’t immediately respond, he raised his brow in her direction. He could see her cheeks heating up and it sure as hell wasn’t from the sun. “Oh my god, was I right on the money with that? No fuckin way. Who is it? You gotta tell me now c’mon.” He was intrigued, and unashamedly excited for her. Tess deserved happiness just as much as he did. Although, he was still getting used to it. Feeling for someone again. Opening his heart up, piece by piece. It wasn’t easy by any means, but he’d do it a 1000 times over for you.

“Yeah, okay. I am waitin for a hot date, but before you say anything–” She had paused when she saw Beatrix approaching and Joel had turned his head to see where she was looking. Using his hand to shield his face from the sun and when he spotted Beatrix. He couldn’t help but slowly look over at Tess, a grin tugging on his lips. “Ohhh. I see now. You and Beatrix, huh? When did that happen?”

“Been happening for a while now, Miller.” Beatrix responded to his question as she stood alongside the makeshift table and looked over her girlfriend, shooting her a little wink.

“Beatrix.” He nodded and gestured to the empty seat. “Makes sense. Considerin Tess has been pretty much absent from the apartment. Y’know it’s uh–it’s nice that y’all have each other I mean–” He rubbed the back of his neck slightly.

Beatrix let out a light laugh and nudged her girl then. “Man, you weren’t kiddin when you said he’s gone completely soft. You alright there Joel? Is the sun starting to get to ya?”

He grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “I ain’t goin soft. Just think it’s nice y’all are happy.”

“He let her paint his nails, Bea. The man has it down bad.”

“y’know that is actually pretty fuckin sweet. You’re a lucky man, Miller.”

“Oh, you’ve got no idea.” He wanted to say more. It was on the tip of his tongue. All the ways you had made him feel. In a way, it infuriated him because this was never supposed to happen. You had shown up and wrecked all his plans, if he would even call them that. You and your smile, your ferocity, your wit. Hell, he could easily compile a list of all of your attributes. It would end up being a mile long, but he could do it. Yeah, he had it pretty bad.

The three fall into a comfortable chatter. As if they are long-time friends, meeting at the bar for a casual drink. Catching up on one another’s lives. Who’s married, how many kids do you have now? Do you still hate your job? Did you ever find love? Are you happy? Except, there is no bar. There’s the Boston Quarantine Zone, crumbling more and more each day. Crawling with FEDRA, Fireflies, infected, raiders, and cowardly men like Robert.

It’s easy to forget the hardship, violence, and death taking place just outside your window when you’ve found yourself in love. Finding one person who makes it all worth living again. Joel Miller was unashamedly in love. There was no hiding it. It was written across his weathered face, burnished between his two thick brows; melded thoughtfully through the ridges on his forehead. His hardness towards the world was slowly melting away, dripping in a puddle beside his worn boots. You made Joel Miller want to live again.

“Oh, before I forget, Frank radioed in this mornin. Said somethin about a summer solstice get-together? Guess he’s the only one makin an effort to keep track of dates and the seasons. Anyway, figured you wanna go Tess. Oh, and Beatrix. You should come along as well. If you’re lookin for a taste of hospitality.” He had lightly nudged Tess’s boot with his own and shot her a little grin.

“Summer solstice get-together? Yeah, that’s got Frank written all over it.” She looked over at Beatrix and nodded. “Yeah Bea, you should come with us. Only if you want to, that is.”

“Well, I gotta come now cause I'm pretty intrigued to see what exactly a summer solstice get-together really is. I’m all in, babe.”

Joel thought Tess and Beatrix looked good together. Genuinely he was happy for her. For them. They complimented each other nicely and it warmed his heart to see Tess smile again. A real smile, one that finally reached her eyes. He also knew that you would be over the moon that Tess had found someone. You and Tess had learned to put your differences aside. It was a phenomenon to see just how things really changed from the cold, rainy day you met Joel and Tess, 4 years ago.

The last thing you had ever expected to happen was falling for Joel Miller. The slow burn of your feelings intertwined. The intensity, confusion, resentment, forgiveness. It all went by in a blur. The record skipped, screeched, halted. The vinyl of your hearts were torn, and sewn back together. You nurtured one another through it all. You both were rough around the edges, sharp to the touch, walls miles high, impassable. You tore one another’s defenses down till it was just you two, standing in front of a mirror, looking in on yourselves. It was as clear as day that you and Joel were made for eachother, in more ways than one. Whatever soulmates were made up of, whatever the fairytales, and romance novels called falling in love, didn’t compare to how you and Joel felt for eachother. Your connection, devotion, sacrifice for one another was on a completely different plane. Love didn’t even begin to scratch the surface.

The three friends finished what was left of their drinks as the sun sky began to shift. Curfew was approaching. The different pink and orange hues were stunning against the sullen backdrop of the QZ. Joel couldn’t help but embrace Tess then. Giving her a firm hug. Much to his own surprise, he had hugged Beatrix as well. Looking over her shoulder when he caught two QZ residents giving an obvious dirty look to Tess holding Bea’s hand loosely. Joel didn’t even hesitate to stare them down. If anyone were to ever dare fuck with his friends? Well, you could imagine just what he would do.

“We’re leavin first thing in the mornin. Before the sun is up. Hope you’re not as cranky about it as I know Gwen will be.” He gave them both a slight nod before he turned on his heel, leaving the small community center and headed home, to you.

____________

The early morning hours ascended far too soon in your opinion. Despite your grumbled protests of, “five more minutes, please baby just five more.” Joel had ignored them and coaxed you awake with peppered kisses on your face and soft touches. When you didn’t immediately budge, he started tickling your sides and nearly avoided a kick to the balls when you sat up in annoyance. “Mother fucker, you really couldn’t give me 5 more damn minutes?”

“I’m sorry honey, but we gotta get dressed and go. You know I’d love to give ya 5 more minutes but I can’t. Besides, don’t you wanna see Frank? C’mon, sugar. I got coffee waitin for ya too.”

You let out a huff as he grabbed your face in his calloused palms gently. He greeted you with a soft, warm kiss and you playfully swatted at him. “Yeah yeah okay fine I’m up. What was that about coffee?”

He let out a deep chuckle when you had swatted him away and in return, he threw you one of his flannels to throw on. “That’s my pretty girl.”

“Shuddup. It’s too early for flirting.”

“Never too early. I’ll be in the kitchen waitin for ya.”

He left your shared room quietly, waiting for you in the kitchen, loading his and your gun. Once your bags were packed, and you had the steaming thermos of coffee in your grasp, you and Joel headed out.

His natural protective nature washed over him as you made your way through the alleys, and dark corners before reaching the exit point of the QZ where Bea and Tess were waiting. The hike to Bill and Franks was just as you remembered. Surrounded by lush forest while the four of you walked. Joel was leading the way of course, with you tagging by his side. Your fingers brushed against one another a few strides before he grasped your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. You were fucking holding hands and it absolutely warmed your soul. He only let go a few times to readjust his rifle over his shoulder, or if he heard something. Other than that, his palm was constantly on yours.

You arrived just outside Bill and Franks compound by late afternoon. This time, your company was expected, and before Joel even had the chance to punch the code into the metal gate, it was opening.

When you saw Frank up ahead, racing out of the house, you let go of Joel’s hand before running towards your friend that you hadn’t seen in so long. You yelled his name with pure joy radiating from your soul and when you finally met, Frank had scooped you up into his arms and spun you around.

Joel couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. You and Frank truly adored each other.

“Little Bird!” Frank exclaimed as he spun you around, hugging you tightly before he gently set you down on the ground.

“Frank! I’ve missed you!” You giggled softly when he had spun you around.

“Pssh? Me? You missed me? I was absolutely devastated when Joel told me you got sick!” He gently released you from his grasp, only to bring his arm around your shoulders as you started heading towards the house.

“I know, Joel told me, and I’m forever grateful for the medicine and tea.” You wrapped your arm around his middle then as you walked, the smile etched on your features was surely going to be permanent by the end of the day.

Joel, Tess, and Bea followed closely behind as the metal gate clinked shut behind them.

Bill was at the top of the stairs on the porch. Apron on as he was already cooking. He wasn’t a huge fan of you, not that you took it personally because he wasn’t a huge fan of anyone, except for his lover of course.

“Glad to see that you aren’t dead.” He spoke gruffly, arms across his chest.

In mock shock, you brought your hand against your chest and laughed. “No way man, you’re glad to see that I’m not dead? I can’t believe this. I’m going to have to document this exact moment!” You jokingly said.

Bill couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Yeah, I sure as hell am happy you ain’t dead cause otherwise that one? He pointed to Joel. Would be 10x more insufferable than he already is.”

You leaned in with a small grin on your face and whispered, “yeah he’s pretty awful. No idea how I actually put up with him.”

You could feel Joel’s hand wrapping around your waist then pulling you back slightly. “I’m pretty awful? Hmmm…we’ll see about that honey.” He whispered.

You and Joel were the first to enter the familiar home. Making your way to one of the guests rooms for the night and as you set your bag down, pulling out your pistol and knife, setting them down on the nightstand.

Joel was grabbing you then, grasping your hips as he pulled you flush against his chest. His hand that wasn’t holding you firmly came up to your face, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “What was that about me bein pretty awful? I heard that correctly, didn’t I?” His tone was low, teasing.

You immediately brought your arms around his neck and threaded your fingers through his soft curls. “That was nothing, honey. I was just joking. You’re far from awful.”

Before he could steal a kiss, you were slipping out of his grasp like the little tease you were. You had a smirk spread across your lips as you leaned against the doorway. “C’mon, we’re not gonna spend all day up here okay? We’ll have all night for that Joel.” You shot him a wink before slipping past the door and headed back downstairs.

“Minx.” He muttered under his breath before he set down his rifle against his bag and pulled his own pistol out of his pocket and set it down next to yours. “Damn little tease.”

You had planned to take full advantage of the lasting sunlight. Bill and Franks home was surrounded by wildflowers and tall grasses. So that’s where Joel knew he could find you. Boy, were you a sight for sore eyes when he found you. Your back was splayed in the tall grass with your arms crossed behind your head and your eyes shut, blissfully. The sun was warm and inviting up until a shadow was casted over it. Now who the hell—Joel, of course.

You brought your hand up against your face as your eyes opened, shielding them from the sun as you looked up at your lover's tall frame.

“Comfortable?” He mused.

“Yeah, but can you maybe move like..I don’t know, a good inch to the left? You’re blocking my sun, cowboy.”

He chuckled and brought his arms across his chest. “Oh, I’m so sorry sugar. Did you want me to move?”

“You’re such an asshole.” You said with a light laugh as you reached your hand up to him and as soon as he grasped it, you were using all your strength to pull him down next to you.

He let out a grumble out of protest before he let you pull him down into the thick grass with a soft thud. “Was that really necessary?” He let out a grunt as he propped himself up on his elbow, looking over at you.

“It was because you were in the way of MY sun so I had to take matters into my own hands, lover.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes as he plucked a strand of the tall grass and twirled it between his fingers. You couldn’t help but lean over, grasping his jaw in your hand, and kiss him sweetly. He wasted no time grab ahold of your hips while he maneuvered himself onto his back, coaxing you into his lap so you were straddling him.

“Joel..” you warned. Kissing him deeper because you simply couldn’t help it. His kisses were addictive.

He hummed in response bringing his hand up to the back of your head and threaded his fingers through your hair gently. “What is it honey? Just tryin to get myself comfortable.” he mumbled into your lips.

“Slick mother fucker.” You pulled back from the kiss and looked down at his smug expression while he brought his arms behind his head then. His eyebrow tilted up towards you in a suggestive manner.

“enjoyin the view?” He rasped. You looked so pretty in the sunlight.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” You reached out and lightly booped his nose before climbing off of his hips.

“You really gonna tease me all day like this? What, you tryin to drive me mad? Up a wall? Cause, it’s workin.”

You looked back at him with a small grin, shaking your head. “No, of course not. That would just be pretty awfully mean of me.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before he slowly sat up scooting over so he was close to you once more. “Can I sit out here and hold ya at least? Promise I won’t try anything funny.”

“Joel, of course you can honey, you don’t have to ask for that. It’s yours.” You watched as a grin tugged on his lips as he reached for your waist and gently pulled you back against his chest. Letting you get comfortable between his thighs.

Once you were settled, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head while his elbows rested back against the soft earth beneath his palms. He watched you curiously as you began to pluck some of the surrounding wildflowers. All different kinds. He watched as your delicate fingers weaved together the stems and he swore, he caught you humming.

While you were crafting together your flower crown, Joel couldn’t help but lean his head back slightly, his eyes closed, a relaxed expression on his face as the sun warmed his skin. He was at peace, being here with you. He must have dozed off for a few minutes because he didn’t feel your soft grasp on his bicep right away.

“Joel, honey?..” you spoke softly through the warm breeze.

“Hmm?” He mumbled softly, blinking a few times as he tilted his head forward once more and looked at the wildflower crown between your fingers. “Oh, that’s beautiful sugar. You want me to put it on you?”

You turned your head slightly so you could look at him. “I was gonna ask if I could put it on you.”

“Oh? No baby, it’ll look beautiful on you. It’ll look silly on me.”

“No it won’t, Joel. You’ll look handsome, I promise.”

How could he really say no to you? Especially when you looked so carefree, so happy. It was just a little flower crown after all. Maybe he wouldn’t end up looking silly.

“Oh, alright. Go ahead. Lay it on me” he watched as you gently lowered the flower crown on top of his soft curls. Your smile was so soft, so beautiful.

“So, how do I look? Still ruggedly handsome?”

You shook your head, brushing your fingers against his jaw gently. “No, you look beautiful Joel.”

__________

Unbeknownst to either of you, Frank had seen the moment between you two from the open kitchen window. He, of course, already had his vintage Polaroid camera at the ready as he snapped a picture. He knew you would want to always have this memory for safe keeping.

He looked over at Tess and Bea who were helping Bill prep the vegetables. “So, when did this all happen? I always had this feeling that they liked each other. I just never thought it would actually happen.”

Tess set down her knife and wiped her hands on one of the nearby towels. “She almost died this Spring. The three of us were gonna leave the QZ permanently with some other smugglers. We were set up. Robert caught wind of us and sent some of his men. Gwen shot first. I watched her go down. Saw the knife sticking out of her gut and Joel? I’ll never forget the screams he let out.”

Frank's face fell as Tess told him what had happened to you. He was in disbelief.

“She nearly bled out on our kitchen table. I had to keep him calm. There was this moment where I knew he thought he was going to lose her. She was fading and then he just grabbed her face, Frank. He’s got tears streaming down his face and he kisses her. He kissed her because he thought he’d never get the chance to do it again.”

Tess nearly had tears in her eyes from that traumatic night and when she felt Bea grasp her hand gently and give it a squeeze, she took a deep breath.

“He stitched her up, and laid with her on the couch. He literally wouldn’t leave her side. He slept on the floor next to her till she woke up. He was just so—I don’t even know how to explain it. I’ve never seen him get so distraught. I let him go that night, and it probably was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. They’re meant for eachother. I’ve never seen him so fuckin happy. I’m happy for him. I’m happy that someone broke through to him. I’ll always care about him, nothing will ever change that. She’s his person, and he’s hers.”

Frank was already grabbing a bottle of wine. He had his own tears brewing because how fucking beautiful was it to hear that two people, who despised eachother from the beginning, had found eachother. Fallen for one another, and held on tight.

“Jesus fucking Christ. I’m going to need a large glass of wine after that.” He was already unscrewing the bottle and poured himself and Tess and Bea a glass. “You found someone too. You moved on, right?” He gestured to Bea by her side.

Tess took the glass with zero hesitation and took a big sip. “Bea is quite literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I feel like I’ve gotten a new chance. A fresh start.” She looked over at her lover, who was in disbelief and when Tess saw her tears welling, she reached over and gently wiped them away with her thumb.

“You really..you really feel about me that way?”

“Course I do.”

Frank was already raising his glass in a toast and had to gently kick Bill to grab his own glass, with a disapproving grumble.

“Here’s to good wine, full bellies, laughter with friends and of course, love. Lots and lots of love.”

Tess, Bea, Frank and Bill all clinked their glasses together.

What a sight they all were to the outside world beyond the white picket fence.

________

You and Joel were in your own little world as held you against his chest, he was still wearing the flower crown you crafted him and you were both looking up at the passing clouds, in a comfortable silence. You could hear the birds chirp, the soft breeze through the grass and the humming of buzzards.

A purple butterfly, with delicate papery wings flew above you and landed right on Joel’s nose but before he could shoo it away, you had gently grabbed his wrist then and whispered, “No, don’t. You’ll scare it baby.”

He looked afraid to move then. Staying absolutely still as you gently released your grip on his wrist. The butterfly slowly flapped its wings, revealing the different purple hues, some dark, some light. It flew from its perch on his nose, fluttering for a moment before it landed on the outside of his hand.

“Think it likes you, honey.”

Joel furrowed his brows slightly as he looked down at the delicate insect resting along his hand. Suddenly, the realization hit him. The color purple. Purple nail polish, a purple butterfly.

“Sarah.” He spoke above a whisper.

“Hi baby girl.”

You both watched as the butterfly flapped its wings once more before it flew off his hand, fluttering away.

You saw the tears well in his eyes before he even could feel them and you immediately pulled him into your arms, bringing his head against your chest while his arms draped around your middle, holding you close to him.

Neither of you spoke in those moments. You simply just held each other.

You were both torn away from your thoughts when the back door leading out to the porch opened and Frank stuck his head out and yelled. “Dinner is ready love birds! Hurry up before it gets cold!”

“I’m okay, sugar. C’mon. Let’s go and..what’s that word you like usin? Immerse ourselves with our friends.” He gave your waist a light squeeze, reassuring you that he was okay.

You answered him by gently grabbing his face in your hands, stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs, giving him a sweet, loving kiss.

His eyes fluttered shut when your lips met his and he kissed you back, holding you there for a moment before he slowly pulled away and stood to his feet, offering you his hand as he helped you up.

The six of you were comfortably sitting together. Frank spared no expense to the details of the table spread. He had brought out the finest china just for this occasion. It was, after all, the longest day of the year. What better way to celebrate, than with friends? Before you dug into your meals, Frank poured everyone a tall glass of wine and everyone toasted to love, longevity, and good times. Joel was looking right at you, a small grin on his face as he raised his glass in your direction. The only sounds that could be heard was silver lightly clinking on china. The occasional song-bird, or two. You all were enjoying the delicious food that Bill had prepared and by the end of the meal, your bellies were full.

The air was warm, peaceful and for a moment, it was all too easy for you to forget about the cordyceps, the end of the world, the loss you had endured. It was so easy when you were surrounded by friends, and your lover, who couldn’t take his eyes off of you. As more wine was poured, the laughter ensued as old stories of the past flowed past your soft lips with ease. Tess agreed that the Chicago Bean, was pretty fucking cool.

You felt so fucking loved. You could barely contain it.

When the plates were cleared, you all headed inside to help with the dishes and of course, crack open another bottle of wine. By the time that Bill had started a fire in the living room, you could already feel your cheeks getting flushed. A warm, fuzzy feeling washing over you.

Joel was at your side then, his arm lazily draped around your hip as you rested your head against his shoulder. He brought the rim of his own wine glass up to his lips and took a sip, a smile creeping over the delicate china.

Frank was already flipping through his many record albums while everyone else was getting comfortable on the two couches. He had decided on ‘A Man Without Love’ by Engelbert Humperdinck. You learned very quickly that Joel Miller was not a singer. Even a few glasses in, drunk on your love, he would not sing. Frank had pulled you up from the couch and twirled you around playfully while you both belted out the lyrics, “Every day I wake up, then I start to break up, lonely is a man without love. Every day I start out, then I cry my heart out, lonely is man without looooove!” You didn’t particularly have a grammy winning voice either but hell, you were having fun! Joel was enamored while he watched you over the rim of his glass. He loved to see you in these moments. When you let your hair down, you belly laughed, giggled and god, did you smile.

More wine was poured, more songs were played and as the sun began to set, the fire lowly crackled in the background, it was just you and Joel now. Frank had taken Tess and Bea out to the greenhouse to show the wonderful progress his plants had made. You were knackered from the singing and dancing as you plopped down next to your lover with a light giggle.

“You’re drunk, honey.” he looked over at you with a small grin.

“No, I'm happy Joel. I’m so fuckin happy. Okay, and a little drunk too. Just like a tad though.”

He leaned in, his face close to yours. “M’happy that you’re happy ‘darlin. You look beautiful. I love it when you smile. Warms me right up.” He whispered, reaching out and gently cupping your face in his warm palm.

“You’re happy too..right?”

“ m’so happy baby. You have no idea.” He admitted. This was only for you to hear. He was secretly thankful that your friends weren’t in the room. He wanted this moment to only be shared between you two.

“Good. I’m glad honey, you deserve it.”

Before he could answer, the record crackled, transitioning slowly to ‘The Last Waltz’

He surprised you then, reaching for your hand before he helped you up from the couch gently.

“Dance with me?”

“I never thought you’d ask, cowboy.” You took his hand then as he helped you up. You were a little unsteady on your feet, while his free hand was gently splayed across your lower back as he pulled you into chest, holding you as close as he physically could. Your hearts were practically intertwined as he slowly started to sway with you. Your fingers were interlocked between his other hand while you brought your freehand to his shoulder, playing with the worn fabric of his flannel gently. He dipped his head down slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His warm brown eyes, locked on yours. You continued to slowly sway, taking in this private moment as he whispered the lyrics lowly between you. His voice was warm, inviting, deep, and it settled within your bones. “I had the last waltz with you. Two lonely people together. I fell in love with you..the last waltz should last forever..”

He kissed you then. Closing the small gap between you finally. Neither of you pulled away as the record crackled, the song coming to an impending end. You continued to kiss him, tasting the sweet wine on his tongue. His breath hitching, his fingers tightening along the exposed sliver of skin of your lower back. You breathed him in, letting his kiss settle deep within your soul.

The moment had ended when you both heard someone clearing their throat. Joel had let out an annoyed grumble as he tore his lips from yours, looking over your shoulder at a smirking Frank, who was holding the game ‘Monopoly’

“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds. Are you up for a friendly game of monopoly?”

Joel had opened his mouth to speak but before he could, you brought your finger against his lips and looked back at Frank with a sweet smile. “We would absolutely love to play.”

“Who is we–” you shot your lover a playful warning look and he returned it with a slight roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, sure we’d love to play.” He grumbled.

“Excellent!”

You slipped out of your lover's grasp, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the living room and into the kitchen.

You found out shortly after the game began, that Bill was an absolute sore loser. He was the first to be out of the game. He cursed out, throwing what was left of his money before he grabbed his gun, heading for the kitchen as he mumbled about how stupid this game really was. “Who the hell thought of inventing this stupid game? I hope they’re rolling in their grave right fuckin now!”

Everyone was trying to hide their laughter then. It was hard with the amount of wine that had been consumed already. As the game continued, Bill had returned shortly after his loss, with a fresh bottle of wine as he topped off his glass and plopped back down into his seat next to Frank. He had a grumpy look on his face, with his arms crossed against his chest. When Frank leaned over and gave him a little kiss on the cheek, his face softened for a moment.

The game continued on for hours. Frank was the next to lose. Joel had secretly slipped you a few of his extra bills under the table, shooting you a little wink as he leaned over and whispered “you’ll find a way to pay me back, sugar.” Which had you lightly swatting his arm for being the flirt that he was, but you loved it. You loved seeing Joel with his guard down, and enjoying the small joys that life had to offer. He looked so beautiful.

Bea and then Tess were the next to lose and soon it was just you and Joel, head to head. Battling to the death. Well, until one of you decides to give in. Your friends had all gone to bed a while ago. The candles on the dining room table were almost melted down completely. You weren’t even sure how much wine you had actually consumed, but by the looks of the empty bottles, you knew you had quite a lot to drink.

“Joel, baby. C’mon can you please surrender. It’s okay, you can admit that you lost like a big man.” You giggled. Your palm was resting along your chin as you looked at him, a drunk sleepy look gracing your features.

“C’mon, honey. We can finish this out. Don’t you wanna win fair and square?” He still had a half glass of wine in front of him and he couldn’t help but reach over and gently brush his thumb against your plush lower lip.

“Joel, I’m tired. Please? Let me win this my way.”

“The dirty way?”

“Nooo. The you’re gonna let me win because otherwise this game will never end, way. I think I will actually lose my mind more than I ever have if we have to keep playing.”

He leaned back against his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “So, then go on and admit your defeat. Sooner you do, sooner we get to go to bed.”

“Who said anythin about me admitting MY defeat?”

He chuckled and reached for his wine glass, downing the rest of its contents before he set it back down. “You heard me.”

“You’re such an asshole man. Fine, I admit my defeat. If I weren’t so many glasses, excuse me, bottles in, then I would have won. I’m sure of it.”

“Mhm. You keep tellin yourself that ‘darlin.” He blew out what was left of the candles then before he pushed his chair back and slowly stood up.

“I’ll get you back for this Miller. Just you wait and see.” Your chair scraped quietly against the hardwood as you rose from your seat.

“Oh, I have no doubt in my mind that you will honey.”

You let Joel deal with the empty glasses and bottles on the table while you packed up the game, placing the board and all the pieces back into the box.

He let you go in front of him up the stairs. His hand was at your lower back, making sure you wouldn’t fall back when you nearly tripped up one of the steps with a quiet giggle.

Yeah, you were pretty drunk.

Once you were in your shared room for the night and the door softly closed, your arms were around his neck, your fingers playing with the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. “Baby..I’m really really drunk right now. Damn Frank and his wine but..I want you. Do you think we can?..” you whispered with a hiccup closely following.

“Honey..” he drawled, bringing his arms around you gently as he pulled you in close.

“We can’t. You’re drunk and I’ve had a bit as well. Plus, we don’t wanna wake anyone up..”

“We can be quiet.”

He gave you a look then. You and Joel did not know the definition of having a quiet fuck. It was pretty much impossible.

“Sugar, you know we can’t be quiet. Even though I wanna fuck you so bad right now honey, so fuckin bad. I gotta put my foot down, m’sorry.”

“Okay, fine. So we can’t fuck. How about..” you trailed off while your fingers slipped from his hair to his face, brushing your fingers against his strong jaw. “what if you were wrapped up in me, all night?..”

He raised his brow at your suggestion and his mouth went a little dry when he realized just exactly what your suggestion entailed.

“You want me to fall asleep, inside of you?”

“Please.” you begged. You were itching to feel him again. All of him.

“Fuck.” He whispered out. The wine was making his mind hazy and your words had him spinning.

“Please, Joel. I understand if you don’t wanna—”

“Shh. Of course I do. Fuck, of course I wanna bury myself inside of ya all goddamn night honey. You’re absolutely sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes. That’s what I really want right now Joel.”

He scooped you up into his arms in response. He carried you to the side of the bed and gently set you down before he reached for the hem of your shirt and gently started to lift it up.

“You wanna wear one of mine?” He already knew the answer.

“Always.”

He slowly lifted your shirt above your head before he reached down into his backpack that was alongside the bed and pulled out one of his spare shirts, slipping it down over your arms. Next, he gently shimmied your pants down your legs, leaning down and pressing a light kiss to your exposed hip bone.

“Can I take these off, sweetness? Or do you wanna keep ‘em on for now?” he rasped out.

“You can take them off baby, it’s fine.”

He slipped his thumb on either side of your panties before he slowly dragged the fabric over your hips, thighs and down your legs and ankles. He pressed another light kiss to your skin. This time it was your thigh.

You had reached for his flannel then and gently pushed it down his arms, tossing it to the side with your discarded clothes. He used his one hand to pull his shirt over his head, shaking his hair out a bit. Soon after, his jeans and boxers were discarded. You could feel the bed slowly dip from his weight as his arms reached around, settling comfortably around your waist as he pulled you flush against his chest.

His lips were at the shell of your ear, pressing a soft kiss just below as he whispered, “you let me know if you want me to slip out, okay? I don’t want ya to hesitate.”

You grabbed one of his hands then and brought it up to your lips, pressing a kiss to his palm before interlocking your fingers with his. “I know honey, I got you, you got me. It’s okay. Please, don’t make me beg you.”

“You got me, I got you.” He let out a puff of air against the back of your neck as he slipped his legs between yours. He let his free hand, that wasn’t grasped between your fingers, grab ahold of himself before he gently, and slowly slipped himself between your slick, warm folds.

It took every sheer ounce of willpower inside of him to not jut his hips into yours. He let out a low hiss, giving your hand a firm squeeze as he sank deeper, till he was at the hilt.

“This okay ‘darlin? Not uncomfortable or nothin?”

You felt so full at that moment. With him buried inside you like this. Holding you so close to his chest. It was perfect.

“This is perfect honey. Thank you. Are you good?” You had turned your head slightly to look over your shoulder at him.

“ m’good. This is nice. You feel amazin. So fuckin warm and tight—”

“Joel, baby. Please don’t start something that you know you can’t finish.”

He chuckled and let his head drop to the back of your neck, pressing another kiss there.

“Sorry, don’t wanna get carried away.”

“I know honey, this is torture, and at the same time, I’ve never been more content.”

“That’s one way to put it.” He chuckled.

He moved his hips just slightly as he got comfortable, sinking further into the soft mattress.

“I love you.” you whispered quietly. You were unsure if your confession was due to all the wine you consumed. Or if it was your sober thoughts, coming out in drunk words, or a mix of both.

“I love you, always.” He whispered back, tightening his hold around your waist, smiling against your soft skin when he felt your lips brush against his knuckles.

You and Joel slipped off into the dream world with ease. He stayed buried deep in your warmth, all night long. You never wanted him to leave. The closeness, intimacy, warmth you provided each-other so naturally. You wanted to keep him there forever.

How long could forever really last, when the dawn of a new day was always inevitable.

Chapter 13:

The absolute tragedy baked into Boston's character is that I think there's some part of him that likes Nick. That has feelings for him. If the translations are right, some of the word choices Boston uses to describe Nick, like lovely, are these little slivers of honesty between the lies. They're also words he never uses to describe Top. The terms he uses are less personal like 'top tier' or 'the best' or 'the hottest'. They're all descriptions oriented around how Top is seen by others. So much of Boston's attraction to him is steeped in the ego of not being able to take rejection, and not a real interpersonal attraction.

I also think another thing at play here, beyond Boston's jealousy of Top's feelings for Mew, is Mew's value in the friend group and in society. Mew's the top student, the bookworm, the virgin. Boston has probably had jealousy festering for years. Ray's in love with Mew. And while Top was initially enchanted by the idea of Mew's virginity, this grew to Top really liking just being with someone who didn't attach any strings to companionship, who wanted an actual connection, but of course Boston still sees it as Top chasing after Mew's virginity. Prizing the lack of the one quality Boston completely defines his value with.

Boston is going to be at the core of every conflict between the characters. He's going to exploit every weakness.

He planted the fear in Mew that Top was playing him, knowing Mew would test Top's resolve. And Top, whom is looking more and more exhausted every episode, who probably hasn't been sleeping well because he quit partying, quit seeking out companionship to prove himself to Mew did have some right to feel yanked along. Not enough to cheat, but Boston's manipulations probably coincided with Top really going through it with his insomnia, as he had stopped sleeping around.

Meanwhile Ray, who clearly likes Sand the most, whom at this point seems to be holding onto a fading crush, but still gives a fuck about his friend, is being spurred into thinking he needs to protect Mew, which is really going to fuck things up with Sand.

Boston is the fucking tumor in this group. They're all trying to grow up and lead normal lives with stable relationships, and Boston's there pitting himself against everyone.

All the characters are flawed, but none of them act with the same level of malevolence as Boston. That foreshadowing with the song Mew and Top were dancing to, it struck me as a sad song, about someone being perceived as the bad guy, but not necessarily being so. It was tinged with an underlying theme about perceptions. And I think that's important here, because when you look at our two gaypex predators, Top and Boston, they go about things quite differently.

It's clear from dialogue Top is very up front with his one night stands. Honest, always, about his intentions. This certainly seems to be the case with Boston. But Boston is a manipulator, he makes false promises, strings people along, says whatever he needs to to get what he wants.

If Top does end up having to be the bad guy, if someone does end up dying this season, I'd say this episode foreshadowed Top being the one to do it, and that that person is likely going to be Boston. Top's made some bad choices, but he's very much falling victim to obsessive stalking behavior. To being preyed upon by Boston. And I think it speaks to the themes that BL has created that people aren't picking this up, because I think the reason they're not picking this up is because he's "the Top". The more traditionally masculine part of the fucked up binary BL creates. They're not used to perceiving these characters as vulnerable to this kind of behavior, because tropes never allow for that in BL.

Anyways, so ends my rant. The moral of the story is I really, really don't like Boston.

hello!! for the drafts thing: “bless your waters, bless your doubts” what did you set out to do with this? what changed that caused you to put it on hold? what are the themes that jump out at you, what story were you trying to tell? also, is the title a reference to something? i love to hear about the creative process!! :3

- puckpocketed on main

Yes!!! Oh my god, this was such a fun project that I began undertaking. Just couldn't keep going on it. More under the cut.

So yes! The title is a reference to the Devils' goal song. Here it is, if you haven't heard it (or if you haven't heard it in its entirety) before.

Okay third time's the charm my posts are being chewed upon by tumblr please dear lord let me post this this time please please PLEASE

[inhales] Okay! So the initial premise of this fic is incredibly simple. Dougie Hamilton, one of the Devils' better defensemen, has a running joke going where the Devils claim he's the admin of our social media. Hamilton slapshot goals are posted with a caption of "I scored!", Dougie's been roped into the act a few times, the like. So obviously this means someone's gotta write a Dougie Hamilton social media admin AU. I'm surprised nobody has yet. Devilsblr, get on it.

Anyway. I think the indents are messing up my post so let's try to post step by step. Instead of indenting snippets, I'll italicize them.

"What?"

Of all the things Dougie Hamilton had expected to hear when being pulled aside by the media team before the first game of the season, this was not it. The hockey player reclines in his seat, rubbing at one of his eyes. "You want me to do what?" he repeats.

Across from him sits Christopher Wescott, leader of the social media team if memory serves Dougie right. A quick glance down at Wescott's placard on his desk, prominently placed, confirms it. Director, Content Strategy & Social Media. Then again, Wescott usually wasn't seen filming anything, or talking to the players even, unless it was roping a certain Jack Hughes in front of a camera to try to get him to sell the youth foundation. That took all hands on deck. They even got the players involved in that one.

Gravy celebrated that hundred-dollar bonus for capturing Jack harder than any goal he's scored with the man. Colorado sleeper agent, Severson complained the next day. I would've doubled it if he let me go, Hughes complained in concurrence.

Dougie didn't remember when the media crew ever needed the hockey equivalent of a SWAT team, not in Boston or Calgary or Raleigh. Then again, maybe he's just not used to Jersey yet. (It's not New Jersey, Nico clued him in before one of his first post-game interviews. Just Jersey. Say New Jersey and they know you're not from here. Just Jersey and you're one of the locals.)

And here, in Just Jersey, Christopher Wescott wants Dougie Hamilton to take a second job.

"The younger generation of fans like memes," Wescott explains. The word memes rolls off his tongue like Dougie rolls out of bed after a physical game; that is to say, falls like a paperweight and ends up on the floor sprawled awkwardly, wondering why he hasn't retired and become a lawyer like his father yet. Wescott is what, five years older than Dougie, maybe? From the way he speaks, it sounds like he's an old man trying to commit the name of his smart speaker to memory. Erica, remind me to buy rice.

"And the team said you're supposedly the best at making them," Wescott continues, snapping Dougie out of this train of thought.

"Rice?" Dougie echoes, confused. "Anyone can make rice. It's just an orange packet you put in the microwave, you rip the top off a bit..."

Wescott sighs, running a hand through his hair. He's definitely thinking some dumb hockey player stereotype right now; Dougie can tell by the way his brow furrows in annoyance. "Look," and here he drops his volume two steps, scooting forward to lean across his desk, and oh this is serious? Dougie better pay at least enough attention to remember this discussion. No more rice. "I thought social media posting was just going to be putting up reverse retro pictures and celebrating stars of the week if we get any. You know, standard fare. But Andrew floated the idea with us a few weeks back and we really think we can get ahead of the league in capturing younger fans with a more dynamic social media presence." Of course it was Maclean, or, as the team called him, Picture Day. One guess as to why.

"And where do I get involved in this?" Dougie asks, but he realizes even as he asks that it's not going to change his final answer.

"We were thinking to make a meme after every win." Wescott pauses. "Oh, and some other reels and things for when it's needed. Of course Catherine's also going to be making content for us, too." Catherine Bogart, Queen of the Tiny Mic. Oh boy.

"Do I get tiny mic privileges?" Dougie flashes one of his patented Hamilton Smiles, hoping to catch Wescott off guard.

"We'll think about it." No then. Aw. Would've been fun though.

"Do I get paid?"

The director shrugs. "Aren't you on a multi-million dollar contract?"

"To play hockey," Dougie specifies. "Not to deep-fry Bratt pics." From the look of confusion on Wescott's face, Dougie reminds himself once again that he's dealing with a senior citizen in the body of a mid-30s advertising executive. The guy probably needed an assistant to turn on his computer. For him, deep-frying is exclusively for overpriced tempura. "Meme things," he explains without explaining. "But - "

"Museum pass, any place in the state, any exhibit, we can figure it out for you."

That rumor even made it here? Well. Hey. It's something to do on the weekends, he figures. And he's pretty sure Wescott, fancy director placard and all, can't actually give him a salary for this. "Fine," Dougie agrees. He's used to being underpaid, after all. Might as well have fun with it. Besides, it's a good excuse to get out of any social events he doesn't particularly want to go to. (Is he justifying this to himself? Oh, definitely. But he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want to do this.)

So yeah! The basic premise of the fic is Dougie's (mis)adventures running the social media for the Devils, his work with the social media people, his reactions to the Devils' season, and the like. I tried to keep it quite light (funny, even, perhaps? but I'm not really funny). Dougie, is, at his heart, a fun character, and I'd like to think it shows a little. It's not that realistic (he definitely doesn't text from the bench!) but it's fun.

In typical Devils fashion, they lose the first game.

In typical Devils fashion, they also lose the second game.

Dougie already has the next three games lined up. He doesn't expect to need more than one of them, if he's being honest with himself, but he's personalizing for each team, so there's that. Might come in handy later in the season, too.

By the end of the second period against Anaheim, they're 2-2. This is also the approximate time Dougie realizes he doesn't have access to the Devils' social media accounts.

Fuck.

And to make matters worse, Dougie starts the third period on the ice.

Shit.

And, if that weren't bad enough, he scores a goal 33 seconds into the period.

Damn it.

All this to mean that, in the next thirty or so minutes, Dougie Hamilton needs to hack into Instagram and TikTok and get ready to post this meme.

The second he's on the bench, he paws off his gloves, reaching for his phone under the front wall. Shaking it on, Dougie quickly navigates to Instagram and logs -

"Dougie, you're on," Lindy calls. The defenseman slides his phone back and jumps over the wall.

When he gets back to the bench a minute or so later, Dougie completes the process of logging off his Instagram account, then quickly punches in the Devils' media email address for the login. It shows him the right account, which is good -

"Dougie, you're on." Lindy again.

As he skates, Dougie contemplates the password. He can't disappear from the bench mid-period to go and find whoever was still working now and ask, so he's got to figure this out on his own.

The first password Dougie tries is njdevils. No dice. He goes on for another shift, then comes back and tries raisehell. Also nothing. If he keeps this up, he's going to freeze the account. Two shifts later, Mercer scores, and now the situation is dire, just when Dougie's brain is deep-fried worse than the Bratt pictures he sent the groupchat last week.

"Hey, Haula," he whispers as the center clambers over the wall to take his position on the faceoff. "If you were gonna make a password, what would it be?" In retrospect, Haula is not the person to ask about this, but Dougie will take what he can get, thank you very much.

"I dunno, man," Haula shrugs. "Password or something?" He raises an eyebrow at the weird question, skating off. Dougie nearly facepalms at the response, but fuck it, he might as well try. password.

Holy fucking shit.

Dougie slides his phone back onto the shelf to take another shift, biting his tongue to keep from cackling so loudly that even his own teammates would stay away from him. Holy fucking shit. Wescott and company clearly have never had a single lesson about cybersecurity.

Well, he's in now, and that's the most important.

However, as I continued writing, another story "thread" popped up, this one a lot more personal to me - the story of the Polish diaspora in New Jersey. A lot of my own personal stories are reflected in this part of the fic. It makes sense in the story (Dougie rents a townhouse in Garfield to avoid being recognized in Newport, Hoboken, and that area), but it's definitely a sharp left from the fic's initial focus. The two plot lines do intersect later on, but I never got to really writing that part of the story, sadly.

A few moments later, Ms. K turns off the stove and carries the soup pot into the dining room with two oven-mitted hands. Dougie pulls himself up to steady the situation however he can, helping direct the pot into its position. Ms. K takes the ladle she had hooked onto her arm, snatching Dougie's bowl before he can react and filling it with several ladlefuls of żurek. At the hockey player's mortified expression of a silent way too much, Ms. K shakes her head emphatically. "Big man, strong, big meal."

"Okay," Dougie agrees, cautious, as he settles back down in his chair and takes his spoon, stirring the soup. Chunks of sausage - kiełbasa - float up to the top before dipping back in. "Thank you," he mumbles, a little too quiet for even his own liking. He's just tired after the game. Yeah. Tired and a little humbled by the kind gesture.

"No worries," Ms. K replies, and from the way she rubs her hands together as she sits, Dougie knows she's one step away from launching into a story over dinner. "You know Martyna from the deli?"

"Yeah," Dougie nods. One of Ms. K's co-workers at Bratek, the business on the other side of town where she cooks for a living. Dougie's been there a few times, just to bask in the atmosphere and maybe score a few free candies. Martyna's the young one, couldn't be more than 24. Her husband Konrad is, from what Dougie has heard of him, a massive piece of shit. He suspects he's going to hear more of him in a moment.

"She came in yesterday all crying," Ms. K sighs, blowing on a spoonful of soup. It reminds Dougie to try his own - it's distinctively sour, but in a good way, enticing yet filling. (He suspects Ms. K makes him a lighter batch than she normally cooks, given the difference in color between this one and the one at the deli. No matter.) "Says that barely enough money for rent. Konrad drinks it all away. Co za kurwa debil."

Dougie doesn't need to speak a word of Polish to understand the meaning behind that acidic sentence, that Ms. K clearly isn't happy with her coworker's husband. "That bad?" he queries, making sure to leave it open for interpretation.

"He even doesn't have job," Ms. K rolls her eyes. "I told her, this man no good, he not love you. No. She loves him. Enough for her that she loves him." The older lady sighs. "Love doesn't pay rent. Or food. Or gas. He needs job." Dougie nods again in agreement, letting her continue; after a moment, she does. "Nobody want to hire him. Not construction, not restaurant, nobody. All what he does is drink and complain."

"Maybe he's got some sort of mental disorder?" The defenseman offers the idea. "Sits at home all day, does nothing, drinks - "

Ms. K barks out a laugh, cutting Dougie off. "His mental disorder" (here she butchers the pronunciation of the words) "is lazy. He doesn't go to school, doesn't work. Only watch game and drink. Lazy. Mother not raise him right." She shakes her head. "You give child everything, they get lazy. You make child work, they not get lazy."

"Aha," Dougie grants the point, deciding that a debate on the existence of depression against his matronly elderly neighbor who was currently feeding him wasn't exactly his plan for the rest of the day.

"No discipline in that house," Ms. K sighs. "All three Kubiaks lazy. One I understand, three is parents' fault." A pause as Ms. K lifts her spoon. "Martyna stupid, Konrad lazy. Perfect together."

They eat for a few minutes in silence, Dougie digesting both the soup and the gossip. "She's at least a good worker though." It's a calculated statement, because Ms. K very obviously wants to keep talking, but Dougie doesn't want to hear about Polish child-rearing strategies (which, from his very limited experience, began and ended at corporal punishment). So hopefully she bites on the redirect.

"Did I tell you about Barbara?" Hook, line, sinker.

"No," Dougie hums.

"She knows nothing!" Ms. K flushes red with annoyance. "She goes all day and looks how I cook. She can't even make salad. All you do is..." Her steam runs out as she searches for the word she needs. "Zetrzeć carrot, doesn't know how."

"Cut?"

"No, not cut." Ms. K mimes running a carrot over a grater. "So you get thin."

"Grate," Dougie supplies.

She nods quickly. "Yes, grate. Cannot grate carrot. Cuts herself. Cannot stir soup - not even make soup, just stir it. Burns herself. Or gets soup dirty."

He chuckles at that. "So she's not a good chef."

"No, but she is owner's son's wife," Ms. K sighs. "Cannot be at cash register, scans things twice. Cannot stack food, food falls and breaks. Cannot cook, chicken is raw and burnt. Both on same piece. Useless."

Dougie tilts his soup bowl to fill his spoon, unable to stop his eyes from looking at the cakes on display. The nutritionists don't need to know. "Can she bake?"

"She make pączki and pączki go boom." She says it so matter-of-factly that it's hysterical. "If she know how bake, she work at Piast."

Piast, the Polish store/restaurant hybrid that looks like a literal castle on the side of the road. Dougie hasn't ever been inside, Ms. K forbidding it (and once again, he's not going to argue with the woman who clearly knows her stuff). "If you ever need Polish food, come to me. Not Piast. Owner died, place is bad now. Too expensive."

That's another thing about Polish people - they measure everything in who died. Usually with when and how thrown into the mix. Honestly, it's fascinating. Ms. K puts on her Polish television shows and points out to Dougie who had a heart attack and who got into a car accident, recounting the details as if she were the coroner. She turns on the radio and everyone got cancer or was murdered by a French guy, five songs in a row, and then an Italian song comes on. Ms. K purses her lips for a minute, then says, "Did you know their daughter disappeared? Took too many drugs, jumped off a bridge. So young, too."

It's kind of morbid, Dougie figures.

Every Sunday, Ms. K goes to church and then to the cemetery, weather permitting. She takes candles with her in fancy glass containers, lights them and leaves them on her husband's grave. Dougie's seen the containers and heard the stories, how she counts the days until she sees him again. Dougie asks her, once, whether she wants to find another husband; she laughs sadly, "When Wojciech died, I saw it was either son or new man. I said better to work for son than for stranger. Son no longer here, but am old now. No point in looking for husband. I have husband already. Just not here anymore."

I think the main "issue" with this fic is that it's Super Fucking Long. There are so many plot lines in it and so much going on that it quickly became an overwhelming sort of project and I sputtered out on energy.

If I went back to rework it, I'd have to definitely consider whether all the parts are truly necessary or whether I just want to focus on Dougie as the social media admin and go from there. Additionally, I didn't know much about some characters before beginning to write, so they come across as fairly OOC, so I need to rework that.

Fun fact, though - I originally intended bless your waters, bless your doubts to be a capstone of a series. Each fic would represent one line of "Howl" and would be a short oneshot dealing with a specific Devil and some specific situation they were in. For example:

and all grown up and traveled so well - Mercer about heritage

do you still hear the sound of the thunder while you lie up by yourself? - Palat injury

And each one would offer a new perspective, roughly in chronological order, on the Devils and their own narratives. I still feel that the "braided" fics, as I call them, would be vitally important in presenting a complete picture, and I'd want to preserve them if I do retry this one.

However, it's a bit of a "dated" fic (22-23 is so long ago now), plus it'd end up being so incredibly long... I don't think I have it in me. Maybe someday.

Have one last snippet, here, and Experience Devils Hockey with me! [profuse sobbing]

It's seven-fifteen by the time Dawson shows up, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Classic. Dougie can't help but chuckle as he opens the door for the young center. "Nice to see you," he smiles, a little fondly. Dawson reminds him a little too much of himself. He supposes it's only kind to pay it forward and take him under his wing.

"Yeah," Dawson grins back. "What's cooking?"

"Figure it out," Dougie challenges. The kid sniffs the air, contemplating his next words, and Dougie takes the opportunity to take the finished chicken out of the oven. "Before if gets cold," he calls across the room, balancing the dish in both gloved hands. Dawson scurries over to get a better look.

"I knew it had to be garlic," the Newfoundlander comments. He pulls out his chair and plops down unceremoniously. "Got anything to drink?"

Dougie bites his tongue to stop from rolling his eyes. "Because you want to be hungover the morning before the Caps."

"It'll help the L go down," Mercer offers. Damn, they really thought they had no chance, huh?

Right. This team never did have a chance. He's been here a year already but enough of that time was on injured reserve (and the rest trying to avoid anyone on his former teams) that it's still new to him, this - this culture of expecting loss. He sees it in the eyes of the old guard, how Sevo and Wood sigh when a goal is given up like it's the last breath they know how to take. Even the newer players feel it, see it, know it.

This was once a dynasty, Dougie understands, and now the castle is in ruins.

being late for cs weekly is just gonna be my thing now, yeah? im just fashionably late always <3

anyways, its time for: the duke of vermeer caper!

aka the zack messes up and has to cover his ass caper lol. just kidding- he does a pretty damn good job. i also love seeing chase and julia acclimate to acme in this ep! ONTO THE NOTES!

going to talk about the intro being soo hot forever

pls they try so hard to pretend for a minute that the duchess isn't carmen. her first moment onscreen plays carmen's theme song

i like how it goes from our usual personal camera angles to the security cam footage!

it is carmen sandiego, actually

"we had no record of her existence until she showed up here. but we do know what she's called somehow"

fuck you devineaux i love learning about vermeer. good on chief for throwing chase under the bus

i always think of julia as veyr bookish, but she's extremely tech savvy. she's on a tablet or a phone pretty much the entire first episode, she nails acme tech immediately...

blue is totally ur color girl you can rock anything girl

love how they just have that painting out. no protection, bare fingies all over it. carmen "all history is a treasure" sandiego, yet again

it totally is ivy you could rock blonde i think

carmen "here's what we know but i'll explain it to everyone again for the audience's benefit" sandiego

love mime bomb breaking the 4th wall jhgdsajgsh he would

you can compare girl with a pearl earring here to the real one i used for my header. considering they had to animate the paintings, i'd say its a job well done translating them to cs style! maybe somewhat less vibrant, but again- style.

Fun fact: the Dogs Playing Poker wikipedia page mentioned CS

and also calls cleo a princess

player's so proud of his terrible light pun i love him

what a fucking crime that zack deprived us of a high-stakes undercover episode with one of the faculty and a hoarde of dangerous operatives all while carmen was dressed like THIS

quality is terrible sorry but you know. actually what a crime

i love the terror on everyone's faces when everything immediately goes to shit

the thought process zack went through to think that he called, they made and delivered the food within five fucking minutes,,

EVERYONE HIDING IS SO FUNNY TO ME poor ivy has to go back in the closet </3

dash haber is fucking stupid (affectionate)

CARMEN POPPING UP FROM BEHIND THE BAR AND JUST STARING AT HIM IS SO FUNNY SHE'S LIKE Z A C K i also like how zack immediately goes "UH GOTTA THINK OF A COVER UH WE'RE MARRIED" the thought process was just. good job

zack's facial expressions in this episode are so good honestly

i also love how zack went "yeah im from boston" and immediately covered up his boston accent he's so silly

poor carmen wheeze

she went "NO DONT LET HIM DO THAT" and zack threatened murder

imagine only have 33 of vermeer's paintings and not 34 what a loser

the tiny eye flutter dash does when he hangs up is so funny pls

HIS GRIN BEFORE IVY WHACKS HIM WITH THE WIG IS SO

carmen is so chill about what just happened khzghsdgh

idk thought it was interesting i never knew what that was

player what do you think the not so good news is. really and honestly what do you think

the grimace on carmen's face progressively getting deeper as zack fails to not be bostonian is so funny shes just like. eugh

also what did moving his chin possibly help to accomplish

they did zack so dirty with that monkey suit joke shdfjsagsh

carmen is REALLY calling on her cleo childhood for this one. also. poor zack actually

the obsession with making him eat fish please just let him tell them he's allergic

CARMEN IS SO FUCKING HARSH WITH HIM IM SORRY she's like "cleo's going to fucking feed you to her dogs" and then zack works overnight to make this happen and when he comes out all ready she's just like 👁️👄👁️ showtime

its literally 7am i feel so bad for him

"park the fork in my mouth" plays in my head constantly i dont even know why

LOOK AT HIM HE DID SUCH A GOOD JOB THE GRIN WITH THE EYEBROWS AND EVERYTHING. NICE JOB ZACK

they didnt go over zack not wearing a tracker before or

pls neither of the girls can drive

girl i know it is impossible to look behind you with the side mirrors in the passenger seat nuh uh no way in hell did she even see devineaux well enough to turn it. also you just took away one of ivy's mirrors nice job carmen

shes so

DIDNT I DO IT FOR YOU...

i wonder, considering carmen's other aliases, what carmen and the crew registered as. did julia see "rogue scarletina" and go hmm might be the duchess

poor julia this season wheeze

"old admirer" youve known about him for one singular week

a "klick" is apparently a kilometer. who knew. its also apparently a military term.

LITERALLY POOR IVY carmen is not treating her crew well this time around

"ahh a drawbridge" WHAT. OTHER KIND OF BRIDGE CAN YOU HACK INTO you wouldn't download a bridge

ivy has some good expressions too actually

i laugh every time at how outraged chase gets between the second and third slo-mo shot of him turning around in the car

THEY LOOK SO SHOCKED HHAHAHA

ARE YOU?? UNDERWATER??

the direction you wish to eject is so funny to me. ejecting out the bottom <3

i love how theyre just standing there like "hmmmmm is devineaux drowning??"

oh my god ivy's driving stick i would be terrified too

i would kill someone to have heard haber say "the hostess with the mostest" pls also he looks so sad about being cut off

okay so.. zack actually can speak italian and i totally forgot about that. he says "good evening, my beautiful countess" which. everyone probably knew already

he's just vomiting back up what carmen said in the hotel jhdgsgsh

the dogs ARE so cute

DASH IN THE BG OFFENDEDLY LOOKING OVER ZACKS SHOULDER AS THEY WALK AWAY

i love dash he's such a rightfully petty bitch about everything

HI LADY DOKUSO AND COUNTERFEITER FROM S3

the cleaners do everything

PLS IVY KNEELING IN THE HALLWAY TO GET THAT VERY CARTOONY SHOT OF THEM POKING OUT FROM BEHIND THE WALL

not the three digit code for the room containing 34 vermeers

have i mentioned that they FLY through this dinner party because holy shit

OKAY NOW IVY WEARS GLOVES WHERE THE HELL WERE THOSE WHEN THEY WERE HANDLING THEM BEFORE

or i wonder if its because zack and ivy are registered citizens and if their fingerprints were found on the vermeers they would be put on wanted lists??

why ivy isn't three centimeters away from the stand with the replacement i will never understand

zack you're literally on the edge of the table you have the easiest water glass to remember

that naughty comment 😭

pls that very polite chuckling around the table

love that they switch from ivy putting the fakes down to carmen doing it. makes. more sense

YEAH OKAY IF THEYRE DOING ONE SWAP A MINUTE THE DINNER PARTY BLOWS THROUGH EVERY COURSE IN LIKE 20 MINUTES OR LESS

also the shape of the vermeer room changes??

cleo glares at her champagne thats so funny

JUST. I KNOW EVERYONE IN THE FANDOM HAS SAID IT BUT JUST SAY YOURE ALLERGIC

they were so wrong for that closeup of dash's lips

ooomg so suspiscious...someone has a different taste than urs??? what the fuck augh

dash is saying the word puke but im staring at his eye makeup its so good. look at that eyeliner and mascara

cleo the worst hostess ever doesn't tell her guest to stop when he looks like he's about to vomit

THE CRIMINAL IN YOUR MIDST LINE IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING THE DEADPAN STARES

the meat cleaver contrasted with the rolling pin

ZACK AIMED RIGHT AT DASH'S FACE SJKFDSSGH

something about how silent that button was is so satisfying

acme has blue gas, vile has green gas, damn carmen needs something

also love how they had the masks at the ready. nice. i wonder what it would have done. knock out or more sinister?

WAIT I NEVER NOTICED DEVINEAUX SKIDDING ON THE ICE AS HE RUNS OUT HAHAHA

yes i believe the phrase is actually implying that two MUST dance that tango

duke of vermeer bad ending: chase gets mauled by dogs <3

love how chase went: hm yes. the woman who just stole 34 paintings is probably on that snowmobile, which has no cargo

lmaoo the calling card

scarlet ski demon

IVY IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IN THIS BIT IM SO IN LOVE WITH HER SHGJHSGHSGDK

RED BRINGS OUT MY EYES AND COATS ARE WARM

at least she sort of offhandedly told him he nailed the role but thats literally the only praise he gets this episode

THE SHOT JUMPING TO THE CHATEAU BEING BURNT TO THE GROUND IS SOOO FUCKING COOL

chief is so disappointed wheeze

i wonder if this case is especially aggravating to chief, considering the last time she watched a vile member's property go up in flames was dexter's house

carmen's already gotten around the world with those puppies

i thought the public wasn't supposed to know that vermeers were even gone hgdashgdsgh

i would have killed for a s4 moment where julia was like "ah your allies! a pleasure to meet you! is the duchess still among you" and everyone just kind of is like. whos gonna tell her

transition sentence <3

this is set up so much like a weekly release show its hard to believe its a netflix exclusive. that cliffhanger with grey is such a week-to-theorize thing

SHADES OF GREY. LIKE. GRAY. GRAY HAM CRACKER?

GET IT

anyways aur naur its crackle

okay yeah. solid episode, not my favorite, some shining moments just like i started with. sweet! sorry its so late anddddd see you next week for the opera in the crikeycore caper

how do you want the draft to go??

overwhelming response (two people in total) to my previous post :p so here are my dope takes that i wish the NHL would take seriously regarding the 2023 draft:

i do not take actual draft order into consideration for like any of these... because ch*cago ruined my life and draft order attempted to ruin idgaf war hero jeichel's life SO!!

bedard to the ducks

i think it's pretty obvious this was the spot i wanted bedsy to land. the whole OC boy experience was something i was rooting so hard for. he needed to discover the healing powers of a double double animal style clowning on zegras. like i've said before, his horror filled eyes would only get worse with one trip on the I5.. and i think it would've made him an even better hockey player somehow 🧪

he REALLY needed to be a canuck. common fact. but those freaks fucked around and found out horrifically. at least they played meaningful hockey when it was supposed to be MEANINGLESS. thank you very much to those orcas. you just lost connor bedard cuz anti-tank kuzmenko had bananas to eat. and quinn. that freak

2. leo carlsson to the sharks

in a perfect world, leo carlsson will never know the saw trap under construction that is Ohio. and the fact that he even knows where it is on the map is already too much for me to bear. if my lovely sharks had actually committed to a really good tank... i would’ve bought a jersey. i will use the power of my delusion to ensure this DOES happen actually. that's a guarantee cuz don't i deserve to be happy?? give me another swede MIKE!!! you keep taking ekky away from me, u capital L Loser so give me another one

in another universe i think leo to philly would be fucking bonkers level big brain 🧠 i only say this cuz i think he needs to hangout with joel farabee IMMEDIATELY. i found leo's tiktok and he's on there being so fucking silly goofy lipsyncing to GUNNA??? hooping to Lil baby??? even hit the griddy?? new era of orange and maybe leo should be there

3. adam fantilli to the HABS

this choice was mainly inspired by this comment adam left on cole's instagram and it got me THINKING. known jhughes fan boy adam fantilli has been going to work getting in with the NTDP boys and i think this is a solid choice somehow. can't really elaborate more on this, just a feeling i'm feeling.

again, in a world where jackets didn't commit to the bit of being so completely morbid awful nasty gross, adam going there so he wasn't too far away from his other half luca would've been good with me. the umichification of OHIO.. c'mon 〽️

and of course the reality of the great chances he's a future duck hasn't been lost on me. i think he's going to be a great addition to the canadian heist that will force zegras into more team canada jerseys.

plus he hit a matthews celly once. and i think that means he goes somewhere where it would be eaten up

4. will smith to buffalo

with a name like will smith he's got to go somewhere that i KNOW bitches will serenade him with the fresh prince of bel air theme song (like he assumedly has been all his life) and what better place to do this than the sabres. a team for silly goofy guys is where i think will smith and his NTDP taught silliness could thrive. also the athletic clowned on him for not being able to skate like jhughes despite being the n.1 center in the NTDP this year. whiteboy hockey looks can haunt you apparently .but my son you will go to a place where it doesn't matter because the vibes are too strong. cuz i said so

however, streets are saying he might be coming to the sharks. no surprise considering will is a future boston college student athlete and mike grier starts acting up anytime someone with BOSTON connections is in his sights. like a rabid dog with no self control. so, maybe bordy will be in contact with smith soon via insta DM?? and maybe i wouldn't be mad about it

anyway... all of these boys are haunted regardless of where they get drafted because they got invited to vegas to watch stanley cup final game 2.. and we all know that was a monstrosity so. Permanently scarred pre draft, here's how i would've saved them.

THE END!

7/31/23: It was 50 years ago this month, July 1973, Steely Dan would release their second album Countdown to Ecstasy. Wow... another landmark album that I didn't think I'd ever get to, but here we are. I've dug this record for at least 25 years going back to my college days. I think the first song I knew from it was 'My Old School' of which I must have seen concert footage on VH-1 (probably taken from The Midnight Special) at some point. So I begun collecting Dan CDs, and got this one specifically because it had 'My Old School' and the album opener 'Bodhisattva' (which my friend Jason turned me on to), and it became a staple in my player. Of the eight songs on this album, no less than six are excellent... even the other two songs are not throwaways by any means. 'Bodhisattva' starts off with a bangin' hard guitar riff, and turns into this slick jazz-rock number that dabbles a little in Fusion territory... look out! The next two songs I don't think are too well known but I love them both--'Razor Boy' has some biting lyrics about upper class wannabees, with this sort of bossa-nova style back-beat, and is super mellow; 'The Boston Rag' has some awesome guitar work... not sure if that's Skunk Baxter or Denny Dias but they make that guitar growl on that track. 'Show-Biz Kids' is controversial for the use of the word 'fuck' (oooooh!) but it, or perhaps 'Pearl of the Quarter', is probably the weakest track on the album-- I've heard that they were toying with releasing this as a single, but repeating the phrase 'Lost Wages' over and over again does not seem like Top 40 material. Interestingly, Rick Derringer, of all people, plays slide guitar on this track... personally, I think his talents are wasted here. Anyway, side two starts with another banger, somewhat similar to the murky (in a good way) sound of 'Do It Again' from the first record: 'Your Gold Teeth'. This track is nearly seven minutes long due to the extended keyboard and guitar solos and jamming... such a cool song, and great lyrics too. I already mentioned 'My Old School' whose lyrics remind me a bit of 'Reelin' In the Years' with the post-College blues as a theme... definitely a rocker, with great horns a-boppin' (I'm including the Special version as a YT clip at the end, which is a treat to watch), awesome guitar solos... love the 'WHOA NOOO's at the beginning of each chorus. Probably second weakest track is 'Pearl of the Quarter' which doesn't have much of a melody, and those 'vous-les-vous's at the end of every verse are so dorky. But the band (such that it is... as already Fagen and Becker were making changes, dumping vocalist Palmer after the first record... by the late-70s the Dan was just a duo with (highly talented) session musicians, essentially) redeems itself, and then some, with the whopper of an album closer 'King of the World'. One might confuse the keyboards in this song with a game show theme... no kidding, it reminds me of The Price is Right in some parts. But that is an integral part of the song, as it follows the same jazzy path as 'Your Gold Teeth' and 'Bodhisattva'... man it's a perfect album-ender. Since I won't get to them (or if I do, it won't likely be in this format), the next three following albums are all weak sisters to this record-- all good records, well-produced, but there's nothing really daring on 'dangerous' on those records. But 1977's Aja is so very different... literally sounds like a different band only four years later, but no less excellent. If I had to make the desert island choice between the two records I'd still go with Countdown, but might try to sneak Aja on board the sinking ship. Steely Dan's last album prior to the twenty-year absence, Gaucho, is no slouch either, as long as you approve of drum-machines (which fit with what they were doing in 1980). Back to Countdown, if you've not heard this, and you're reading this blog, stop what you are doing and go listen to it now. A moral imperative. A+

tuesday again 1/4/22

congratulations to everyone in general but me specifically for surviving 2021 bc it cut a little fine there at times. anyway this week we have an inadvertent theme of How Do We Improve This Fucked-Up City?

listening killer queen. may the new year have this much rollicking glam as my favorite queen song

reading Geiger #1-6 with writer GEOFF JOHNS and artist GARY FRANK uniting with superstar colorist BRAD ANDERSON.

this is postapoc, to me. this is some good cheesy shit that leans all the way into it. we’re in vegas babey! everyone shuttles around in big beautiful tunnels between and under the casinos! each themed casino has a themed boss! they all hate each other! we got some excellent nuclear knights shit! the brotherhood of steel WISHES they were this fucked up! LOOK AT THIS MAP

i am pretty hype to watch the politics and backstabbing play out, with a side of accidental child acquisition.

watching the book of boba fett. love star wars concepts, hate their execution, simple as. i had a number of complaints to make here bc unfortunately i am That Fucking Guy about star wars. i generally have extremely low standards for this franchise! it’s fun to look at and that’s all that really matters. the extended parkour sequence did make me laugh tho- it felt like a very weird way of some exec going “what did kids who saw the prequel trilogy also like? what was cool in aught oh three? parkour? they liked parkour then they’ll probably still think it’s sick now”

[this used to be a super whiny paragraph about how this franchise is never going to be the thing i want it to be]

my fondest hope for this show is that it looks at boba and fixes some shit. for example, if, instead of making him a weird tradcath nevernude incel as per the old EU books, they simply made him ace, that would preserve what they wanted to keep about the core of the character (man who follows traditions as a sort of grief ritual and who simply does not have time for anything that doesn’t get him closer to his goal, which is being the best at his job) and tweak it for the better. sort of an anti-james bond, if you will. i have not identified as ace for Some Years and am not an expert on the #representation the community is currently angling for, but a family of coldblooded bounty killers probably isn’t it? however jango was absolutely aroace and you cannot change my mind about that.

the concept of taking one extremely bad city (mos espa) and making it into something better is literally tailor-made for me, i love that shit. i love seeing people get frustrated at how interconnected everything is and how much tiny things matter. cities COULD be such incredible places to live but they Aren’t. this show is (so far) doing a good job of showing boba as someone who’s pretty good with the small stuff but is having some trouble adjusting his methods and worldview to a larger scale.

two other nitpicky things: i have read so much fic where twi’lek lekkusign was a huge thing (and it’s been established canon for quite some time!) that’s it’s still sort of a shock to see them so still on the screen? we have the technology. we can make those things move. disney is literally drowning in money and i demand better costuming and practical props

also get these fucking boston dynamics cop dogs out of my franchise that i like

playing this section will be changing. i don’t know what it will change to or what it will look like yet. honestly i game way less since i got this job. it is very weird going from my job where i think about bideo james all day to, immediately, on the same pc and desk, play video games. this might be a good sign that i need to get back into phone games, or maybe start playing genres that don’t pop up a lot at work like visual novels? i like games where you can tell a little story about what happened to someone else, and genshin and animal crossing: pocket camp simply do not produce interesting stories for the tuesdaypost. although there is a new genshin update coming that i will be able to play thursday evening, so who could say? maybe this one will be a big fat lore drop

anyway over the weekend at the end of a holiday break where i did zero gaming, i put like fifteen hours into fallout 4, with a dude bc i’ve never played through this game as a dude before. i get startled every time there’s one of those wretched little dialogue cutscenes bc i go Aah! That’s Not Me Or My Standard RPG Lady Character Aelia Laelia! no mods on this run (i hate this also) bc i want to pick up a couple achievements first

here’s my fucked-up sad dad dead wife guy with the lesbians at oberland station. bog-standard dude, his face is completely from one of the presets except i gave him more scars bc why not. not that you can see them but it’s the thought that counts. one of my favorite games within a game is to take absolutely dogshit screenshots of objectively well-rendered games bc this pc can only sort of handle lowest settings.

i am happy as a fucking clam making my little settlements all fancy. i like using warehouse walls for things bc tall and big windows, and i am making a giant fancy bar/restaurant/hotel thing in sanctuary hills bc why the fuck not. no pics of that bc i have nowhere near enough glass yet.

also busted nick valentine out :) what a good quest. what a good man.

making :)

“Ruth and Ephraim as a couple” headcanons/AU, ft “Sarah in Boston”

@shapeshiftersandfire, so here it is. I finished way earlier than I anticipated, but I just started typing and here it is!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=muFFeiBUffQ (this song is required listening when reading these headcanons. It IS Ephraim and Ruth’s theme song. I recommend starting it at 3:14 because that point of the song is the section that really gives me Ruth and Ephraim vibes) 

First off, there is SO much covert flirting. SO, SO MUCH FLIRTING.

Ephraim is definitely having an identity crisis on the way home after the card game.

He gets home and Deodat asks him how the party went and he just kind of stands there like an oaf.

“It went fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“No Yes”

“...okay”

Deodat doesn’t believe him but he assumes that maybe Ephraim was just rejected by a date or something. Little does he know…..

“Fire Meet Gasoline” is a very good analogy to their relationship.

Because not only would it be passionate

But their relationship would probably also develop very quickly

They wouldn’t rush things, per se, but the “crush” phase is definitely very short for them

They’re both very outspoken and confident, so they very quickly open up about their feelings rather than beating around the bush.

They’re both very passionate people in terms of personality, and even when Ephraim is open-minded enough to fall for Ruth, they still inevitably clash with their opinions

They don’t fight but they definitely debate.

But in a healthy way. The debates can get heated but not in a hostile way. They’re just both very opinionated and they get very passionate about their opinions and their different thought processes.

 “I know I’m right!” “Yeah well I know that I”M right!” “Well I think I’m right because xyz” “Well my reasons are abc” “...that’s a good point. But I’m still right ;)”

So it probably looks like arguing to some people, but they both know that it’s all in good humor so neither Ephraim or Ruth are actually hurt by it or anything

They actually think it’s a good source of entertainment.

They once got into a heated debate about the correct color of socks in the middle of the new Mill Valley department store just to see the reactions of the cashiers

The aforementioned cashiers were horrified

Ephraim was arguing in favor of brown socks, and Ruth in favor of gray.

They ended up buying both colors.

Ruth now buys him brown and gray socks for a gag gift every Christmas (were gag gifts a thing in 1898? No clue, but I like the idea so I’m running with it and not researching something for once).

Ephraim keeps her a secret for a long time, for obvious reasons.

Ruth doesn’t mind this because she understands his reasoning behind it. 

She takes it as an opportunity to introduce him to her family and friends.

Ephraim gets along great with her brother Charles, and almost immediately the “future brother in law” jokes start.

Ruth is surprisingly embarrassed by this.

Ephraim teases her for days about that fact.

“Finally! I finally found something that embarrasses you!”

Ephraim goes to her performances and cheers her on (he always brings a bouquet too)

He sits in the front row right at the bottom of the stage and claps the loudest when she comes on stage.

Ruth is big into theatrics and has an entire setup of smoke cannons and mood lighting that announce her entrance.

She steps into this cloud of smoke and raises her arms dramatically and announces herself

Ruth loves to wear the color red because it looks so striking against her pale skin, but she secretly loves lighter shades of blue even more (they just don’t give off very strong “mystical” vibes, so she sticks to dark reds when she’s in the spotlight)

She works as a fortune teller and does card tricks as well

She loves to hear the ridiculous rumors and urban legends surrounding the “mystical powers” of albinos and then she incorporates that into her routine

“ALBINOS CAN READ MINDS” okay, well now she does mind reading as a new trick

In reality she’s just a very analytical person so it’s easy for her to pick up on small body language or vocal cues

Ephraim always asks her to tell him her fortune and it inevitably turns into some sappy “well I think you’ll end up marrying an amazing circus performer who just so happens to also be the most beautiful woman in Pennsylvania” thing

Ephraim definitely agrees with her “fortune”

He tells her about Sarah pretty early on in the relationship. He doesn’t want to hide anything from her.

He isn’t sure how she’ll take it, especially considering the fact that he was complacent in Sarah’s abuse for years until he really got out into the world and realized that everything he “knew” about albinism was wrong.

Ruth is definitely shocked but she assures him that he’s not some sort of monster, because he realized that what his parents trained him to think was wrong and he was able to grow from that.

One day when the rest of the family is out, Ephraim sneaks Ruth into the mansion (with the help of Sylvie and Lou Lou, of course) and she goes down to the cellar to meet Sarah.

Sarah is absolutely floored that there are others like her.

Of course she knew, because Ephraim told her when he returned from college and made amends, but when she sees it infront of her eyes it’s still a shock.

Ruth and Sarah hit it off instantly, of course.

Ruth promises to take Sarah to see a circus someday

Sarah can’t wait to see the elephants.

A few days after the secret meeting, Ephraim decides to tell his family about Ruth.

He tells Harold, thinking that maybe Harold would understand

But Harold just rats him out to Deodat and Delanie

They’re furious, of course

They don’t tell Gertrude because they claim that it would give her a heart attack

And tbh, it might

Gertrude figures it out anyways from the deranged yelling that comes from downstairs

“After all we’ve done to hide Sarah, and now you do THIS?!!”

“Mother, there’s nothing wrong with her.”

“She’s a circus freak!”

“By choice. She enjoys working in sideshows. That doesn’t make her a bad person.”

“Are you sure she isn’t just trying to mooch off of OUR money?!”

“She’s very wealthy, Mother. She works because she enjoys it.”

Deodat has more or less the same reaction.

Harold just can’t believe that Ephraim would “betray” the family in that way.

Ephraim tells Ruth the next day, and they decide to take Sarah away and leave for Boston.

Charles helps with the legal side of things, and pulls a few strings with his lawyer friends in Pennsylvania to have Sarah legally emancipated from her parents.

The trio moves to Boston and temporarily lives with Charles and his wife Louisa.

Louisa is smitten with Sarah from the start and insists on baking her ridiculous amounts of gingerbread.

(For no reason, really, but Louisa just has a thing for gingerbread. Sarah doesn’t complain)

Sarah gains quite a lot of weight in those first few months, and for the first time in her life she weighs a healthy amount. 

Ruth takes her clothes shopping often, and she insists on buying Sarah the nicest and newest fashions (even though she grows out of them so quickly now. It’s as if 18 years of growing have finally caught up with her at once).

Sarah hugs Ephraim for the first time after she and Ruth return from their first major shopping trip. Ephraim almost cries, and Ruth grins so hard that her face hurts. 

Ephraim wasn’t sure if Sarah could ever forgive him, but that was proof enough for him.

Ruth gives Sarah her first diamond necklace. It’s the one that Ruth wore the day she met Sarah. Sarah had said that it was the prettiest thing that she had ever seen, and Ruth saved it for her until they reached Boston. It was an informal adoption gift, really.

Ephraim and Ruth eventually buy a nice brownstone in Boston. It’s a few streets away from Charles and Louisa’s home, and there’s a large park across the street.

Sarah loves to sit in the park and watch the swans and ducks on the pond.

Sometimes Ruth and Ephraim go with her, but a lot of the time they let her go alone. They know that she’s been through a lot, and that sometimes she needs time alone to process everything. 

Sometimes she comes back with tears in her eyes, but no one mentions it. Ruth brings her a cup of tea or a piece of gingerbread (Louisa is always sending over fresh gingerbread) and offers her a shoulder to cry on, if she needs it.

Ruth takes Sarah to meet her fellow albino circus performers. For once in her life, Sarah feels truly accepted and understood when she stands in a room surrounded by people like her.

There are so many children in the room, and they’re all so loved by their family members, regardless of their albinism. It makes Sarah sad at first, but she’s also happy to see that they were raised in loving households instead of abusive and hateful ones.

For their first Christmas together in Boston, Ephraim buys Sarah a Kodak No. 2 Bullseye Camera. When the first Kodak Brownie camera is released a few years later in 1900, he buys her one of those as well.

He tells her that she can use it to document her new life in Boston.

The first picture she takes is a picture of a sleeping Ephraim.

He’s sitting in an armchair next to the Christmas tree, surrounded by wrapping paper and plates of half finished cookies.

Once the picture is developed, she puts it in her new photo album that Charles and Louisa gave to her.

When Ephraim woke up, Sarah asked to take a picture with him. 

Of course he obliged.

She keeps that one in a frame by her bedside.

Sarah has a whole pile of her “treasures” that she keeps beside her bed, but that picture is at the center of it all. 

Ephraim notices it one time when he’s helping Ruth collect the laundry, and it touches him more than he can say.

For her gift, Ruth arranges for Sarah to take some writing classes at the local women’s college.

Sarah is thrilled. She starts to write stories other than horror.

She still loves scary stories, but she finds a new love for children’s stories and romance novels.

Little Women is her favorite (Ruth is delighted! It was her favorite book too!)

In 1900 Ruth and Ephraim have a son. They name him Eli, in reference to Sarah’s middle name (Elizabeth).

Sarah is the proudest aunt you’ve ever seen. 

Ephraim and Ruth go on to have more children, but Sarah has a special bond with little Eli. He is the first baby that she ever held.

The odd little family on Pearl Street is probably the happiest family you’ll ever see.

Sarah eventually marries the son of one of Ruth’s circus colleagues. 

His name is Thomas, and he’s a quiet man.

He loves birds too, just like Sarah. 

He and Sarah go bird watching often.

They go on to have a large family. 2 out of the 5 children have albinism, but they love all of their children the same.

They live a long life.

Neither Ephraim, Ruth, or Sarah ever return to Mill Valley. They’re more than happy to let the past remain in the past.

Bonus: Harold In Boston Headcanons/AU

Once Ephraim does reach out to Harold, and he’s surprised to learn that Harold has also distanced himself from their parents.

Gertrude died in 1899, and shortly after that Harold’s fiancée Violet died of tuberculosis. With his ties to Mill Valley significantly loosened, Harold took an extended business trip to Philadelphia where he eventually opened his own publishing company. After the mercury scandal at the mill, Deodat and Delanie are essentially ruined and Harold is free to pursue his own interests independent of the mill.

He goes to visit Ephraim in 1900 to congratulate him on the birth of his son. 

It’s tense at first, when he see’s Sarah. He isn’t sure how she’ll react to him.

She’s wearing a white lace dress with small puffs at the sleeves, and pale blue ribbons at the cuffs and waist of the skirt.

Her hair is in a soft gibson girl-esque style, and Harold realizes that it’s the first time he’s ever seen her in anything other than the old gown she always wore back in Pennsylvania.

“Hello Sarah”

“Hello Harold”

He isn’t sure what to do at first, but Ruth quickly introduces herself to abate the awkward silence.

He’s never met Ruth, but he quickly understands why Ephraim likes her so much.

After he meets the baby and pleasantries are exchanged, he wanders off into one of the upstairs rooms of the home.

(Sarah left the room once Ruth brought out the baby. She loves Eli, but she feels awkward being everyone all at once, as if she’s intruding on something she isn’t, of course).

He accidentally goes into Sarah’s room, only to find her at her desk writing.

Her room is nothing like the dark basement she used to call home, and Harold is thankful for that.

“So, you still write?”

Sarah jumps in her chair a little, before suddenly whipping around. She’s still not good with loud or sudden noises, even after 3 years of safety.

Harold cringes when she jumps. He hates that he still scares her.

When she composes herself, she smiles a small smile. “Yes, I still write.”

Harold asks what she writes about these days, and she tells him that she writes children’s stories.

It’s a sad irony, considering the mercury scandal, but Harold doesn’t tell her about that yet.

She had left Mill Valley before the worst of it, and he knows how much she loved those children.

After they talk for a while, Sarah eventually invites him to sit with her.

They sit side by side on her bed and she shows him her notebooks.

He’s surprised by how much she’s grown since he last saw her. She’s a little taller now, and she’s gained a lot of weight. Her face isn’t hollow anymore, and her eyes are bright now. Her hair is shiny and thick, and she truly looks happy.

She only shakes a little when he’s so close to her. Harold still scares her a little, but Ephraim promised her that no one would ever hurt her again.

Sarah trusts Ephraim immensely, so she’s willing to trust Harold too

Still, it’s a little hard for her to have him in such close proximity.

Harold notices her discomfort and moves a few inches away (still close enough to see her notebooks, but far enough that it gives Sarah a safe buffer). Her nerves calm down once she has a “safe zone.”

Harold finally works up the nerve to say something.

“Sarah, I-”

“I know. Ephraim told me.”

“He did?”

“He did”

“Well...that’s...that’s good.”

The next thing that Sarah does shocks Harold to his core.

She reaches out, her hands shaking, and grabs his hand.

“I know that you didn’t mean it - what you did to me -...not really, anyways. I know you’re different now.”

Harold squeezes her hand in return, and she stops shaking.

“Thank you”

Sarah smiles

“Of course”

Ephraim happens to pass Sarah’s bedroom on his way upstairs and nearly dies of shock at the site of them. Harold doesn’t notice Ephraim, but Sarah does.

She bursts out laughing, because Ephraim genuinely looks horrified, shocked, and immensely confused.

“He said that he was sorry!,” she explained in a half yell in Ephraim’s direction.

Ephraim is still in shock, so he doesn’t say anything.

Harold is also in shock, but because of Sarah’s laugh.

The man genuinely didn’t think that it was possible, and yet here she was laughing.

When everyone recovers from their respective shocks, Harold is invited to stay for dinner.

This dinner invitation turns into a long term stay, and eventually Harold moves his business to Boston.

He buys the brownstone next to Ephraim and Ruth’s home.

He remains a bachelor all his life, never having truly recovered from Violet’s death.

Harold definitely earns the title of “World’s Greatest Uncle” in regards to Sarah and Thomas’ children.

By 1980 the neighborhood block is so full of Bellows descendants that it’s unofficially renamed Bellows Square

Ruth and Ephraim’s house becomes a local historic landmark, considering the fact that Ephraim went on to become one of the country’s early geneticists who (humanely) studied genetic disorders and medical conditions.

The house later becomes a museum in the early 90s, having been restored to the same state that it was when they once resided in it.

Sarah’s Kodak No. 2 Bullseye is put on display, but the crowning achievement is her collection of photo albums and notebooks. She went on to become a children’s writer and illustrator, basing many of her books on her experiences in Boston. 

The old Bellows Paper Mill is torn down in 1948 to make room for new housing following the G.I. Bill and the post-war Baby Boom.

None of the surviving Bellows are sad to see it go.

Bob and Ray: The Two and Only

I am a HUGE fan of Bob and Ray, and they will be the source of today’s Word(s) of the Day. Now, unless you grew up in a specific place (mostly New York City, Boston and the Greater Northeast) during a specific time period (mostly the 50s, 60s and 70s) and listened to the radio, well, you might not know about Bob Elliott and Ray Goulding. And that would be a shame. So I think you should pause here and listen to a few of their classic routines, such as “The Slow Talkers of America”...“The Komodo Dragon”...Intrepid reporter “Wally Ballou at the Paperclip Company”...and “The Collector of Odd-Shaped Fruits and  Vegetables.” 

For years, especially in the early part of their 40-plus year partnership, Bob and Ray worked without a script and just improvised off a general theme. They satirized popular radio and TV shows of the time: a radio serial called “Mary Noble, Backstage Wife” became a long-running bit, “Mary Backstayge, Noble Wife.” The crime drama “Mr. Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons” morphed into “Mr. Trace, Keener than Most Persons.” My favorite was their recurring tribute to TV’s “Mr. Wizard,” Don Herbert, which they called “Mr. Science.” (“You wouldn’t try to slip me the old rubber peach just because I’m a gullible child, would you, Mr. Science?”)

Bob and Ray didn’t consider themselves comedians – they thought of themselves more as radio announcers, or voice actors – but their humor was deliciously deadpan and deadly, low-key but highbrow. With tongue planted firmly in cheek, Ray once described them as “puncturers of pomposity.” They, along with the Marx Brothers, were a tremendous influence on my own world view. 

Anyway, in one bit, “Bob and Ray’s News in Depth” covered the concession speech of candidate Neil A. Sturbush for County Commissioner. Bob, spoofing the Chet Huntley-David Brinkley anchor team with a character called “David Chetley,” analyzed the speech, which Chetley said was a “periphrastic bit of casuistry.” (That is, a long-winded, meandering, verbose and specious argument). Chetley continued his analysis, giving us four Words of the Day in the process. He said, “Indeed, his jeremiad – his threnody – call it what you will – can only be accepted for what it is: an atrabilious amphigory.” 

Jeremiad…Threnody…Atrabilious…Amphigory. (For what it’s worth, neither Bob nor Ray ever went to college, but they were both brilliant and never dumbed things down for their audience). Jeremiad and threnody are basically the same thing: a prolonged lamentation. “Jeremiad” comes from the Old Testament Book of Jeremiah. Jeremiah wrote a series of lamentations about what it was like to be a prophet when society was in a state of moral decay. “Threnody” comes from a Greek word meaning “wailing song.” A threnody was usually sung. An “amphigory” is a meaningless or nonsensical piece of writing or speech. And “atrabilious” means "melancholy, irritable, gloomy” from the Latin “atra bilis,” or “black bile,” one of the four humours ancient doctors believed controlled our emotions. Black bile was associated with melancholy, digestive problems and lethargy. The other humours were blood, phlegm and yellow bile. If your humours got out of balance, you’d get sick. Fortunately, the humour (and humor) of Bob and Ray was always in balance. 

The clock on the wall says we’re out of time for this episode of Bob and Ray’s Words of the Day. Our researcher is Carl J. “Fat” Chanz. The Program Director is O. Leo Leahy. And our Executive Producer is T. Wilson Messy. This has been a Messy production. 

References for “A Portrait in Synesthesia”

This fic is COMPLETE now, so anyone who might have been hesitant to follow a wip, here you go! The whole synesthetic package, wrapped up with a nice lil bow on top. :3

For those who might have missed the masterpost: the fic was my contribution to the good omens big bang and is a sweeping, canon-compliant romp through history, told in (almost) all original scenes, with lots of nature imagery and T.S. Eliot. Kind of my own cold open, but with way more feelings and flowers. Also the sea. And an emotionally significant comet.

I had the opportunity to throw all of myself at this project and really enjoyed making it an intense focus for a while. In a way, it was an experiment to see how much I was capable of, which as it turns out, is more than I thought! (there’s a lesson here, probably...). Going this deep with the research and worldbuilding is not something I will likely be doing often for fic writing, but since I did with this one, I figured I’d share a bit of the process.

Under the cut are major spoilers for the timeline, story, and historic events in my recent fic, A Portrait in Synesthesia. I had originally planned to post this information in the end notes of the fic, but at some point, the list got way too long and posting it here became the sensible choice. There is a link to this post in the end notes of the fic, so it will be easy to find your way back here if you get to the end and want to know a bit more about the writing and research process. 

The Title:

Putting this bit at the top because I don’t know where else to put it: The working title for this fic throughout the entire writing process was “In Synesthesia.” I almost changed the final title in the eleventh hour to “The Still Point of the Turning World” because of what a prevalent theme Eliot became (that line was also slipped into the story three times at important moments — once for each POV character). I also briefly considered “Always, We Were Enough” as a title, since the conversation with Adrielle at the lighthouse kind of... accidentally became the thesis of the whole story, but that was a bit too sappy even for me, a Confirmed Sap. 

And while I’ll be questioning my choice of title for the rest of forever (titling things is hard, y’all), I ultimately thought the more descriptive title was best, and wanted to keep the nod to the song that inspired it all.

Speaking of the song... have you listened to it yet?? It’s great, I promise!

Synesthesia:

This was my research starting point. Before I dug into any of the historical or astronomical research or even started any serious plotting, I started reading about synesthesia, or, as Psychology Today defines it: the neurological condition in which the stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway (for example, hearing) leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway (such as vision).

Full disclosure: I do not have synesthesia. I spent a LOT of time researching it for this fic and did my best to portray it accurately, in spite of the fantastical elements I added. If I’ve overstepped or gotten something wrong and there are any synesthetes out there who would like to talk about it, I am very open to those discussions. The AO3 comments are always open to that, or you can message me/send me an ask here if you would like a less public forum.

I probably read r/Synesthesia in its entirety, but this thread of first-hand accounts was one of the most interesting to me and provided a lot of the inspiration for how I used the emotional synesthesia imagery. 

Besides everyone’s favorite research staring point of Wikipedia, this link is one I got from Boston University’s Synesthesia Project, and it is a pretty exhaustive list of research and books, as well as art and poetry about synesthesia. I have also been working my way through The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales, by Oliver Sacks which is the book that came most frequently recommended to me in my search. It’s an extremely approachable and interesting look at neurological conditions, synesthesia among them.

As it appears in the fic:

In a broad, generalized sense, Aziraphale and Crowley have a few types of synesthesia in this story. Obviously, I gave it a supernatural/celestial twist and a healthy glug of magical realism, but I did try to keep it firmly rooted in the actual condition. The types of synesthesia they have are:

Chromesthesia: they both have this. Sounds, specifically each other’s voices, have a color association

Lexical-gustatory synesthesia/emotion-flavor synesthesia: Aziraphale has this. Words (in this case, emotions, specifically Crowley’s emotional state) have a taste.

Odor-color synesthesia/emotion-odor synesthesia: Crowley has this. Words (again, emotions, specifically Aziraphale’s emotional state) have a smell.

One of the defining characteristics of synesthesia is that it is constant. If a synesthete connects the number 9 with the color blue, for example, then they will always connect them in this way. This was the major difference between real synesthesia and the fantasy synesthesia in this fic. The sensory/emotion connections for Aziraphale and Crowley changed in subtle ways as their relationship evolved through the ages.

The “binding thread” also had nothing to do with synesthesia. That was me wanting to make the spool analogy work for the body swap, baking it into the entire fic because I liked how the imagery fit with the synesthesia, and then leaning into the magic and the soul memory so hard that I fell flat on my face into magical realism. (A True Fact: I have spent a fair amount of time lying on the floor in the past 6 months, shaking my fist at the cute little plot bunny who grew fangs and claws and dragged me down a rabbit hole that ended up being 100k words deep). 

Anyway! Research!

Before I get into space and history and flowers... Yes, I admit to absolutely making up some wacky shit about Europa for the sake of fun banter and making a metaphor work. All those pre-Fall scenes on abandoned Earths are 100% a fantasy setting and I exercised the super fun right of a fantasy writer and embraced the worldbuilding (moonbuilding?). I also just thought Crowley would have delighted in tying a moon’s guts in knots, and Aziraphale would have delighted in the idea of whimsy-for-whimsy’s-sake. Please don’t lose sleep over the scientific inaccuracies.

Halley’s comet:

I promise not to bog this down with a billion comet facts, but there were a few particular things about Halley’s comet that had me gasping dramatically about how it’s “A.J. Crowley, but a comet!!” Specifically, it’s orbit and it’s structure. 

Halley’s retrograde orbit gives it one of the fastest velocities (relative to Earth) of any object in the solar system. I never explicitly worked the “you go too fast for me” line into the fic because I was trying to do original scenes (this particular story lived between the lines), but... just know that tidbit is there and join me in these emotional dire straits. If you like.

The comet’s structure is what is known as a “rubble pile”, meaning it’s made up of a bunch of smaller rocks held together by gravity (read: a hot god damn mess held together by stubbornness). 

As it appears in the fic:

The nucleus of Halley’s comet is shaped like a weird lopsided peanut. In fact, one could almost look at it and say it resembles a contact binary star, if such a thing could be a shriveled, misshapen pile of rubble.

Officially, Halley’s comet might have been recorded as early as 467 BC (a comet was recorded in Greece that year— unclear if it was Halley’s, but the timing and the fact that it was visible to the naked eye suggests that it probably was). This was the year I had Aziraphale making the scroll that causes Crowley’s panic in Athens (390 BC). I like to think that some human, at some point, caught a glimpse of it and tried to bring it to light, only to be written off as a crazed conspiracy theorist.

The apocalyptic depiction of Halley’s comet in chapter 9 (Bithynia) is actually based in fact. The comet made its closest approach to Earth (in human memory) in 837 AD, passing within 5 million kilometers. Its tail stretched halfway across the sky and it appeared as bright as Venus to the naked eye.

1910 Halley’s Comet panic. Bonus: c o m e t  p i l l s

Where 1910′s appearance was a spectacular sight and one of the closest approaches on record (coming within 22 million kilometers of Earth), 1986′s was the worst viewing conditions in 2,000 years. The comet passed within 63 million kilometers at its closest approach, and had the sun positioned between it and Earth, making it impossible to see from areas with any amount of light pollution, and almost invisible to all of the northern hemisphere. 

Historic events and settings:

Chapter 6 (Ostia): This was one of the chapters that I did a bunch of arguably unnecessary research for, since the history and the meat of the setting faded into the backdrop as the scene itself focused on dialogue and train of thought. The port town of Ostia was incredibly engrossing to read about, and between wikipedia’s ever-branching paths, ostia-antica.org, and ancient history encyclopedia’s entry, it ended up being one of the deeper rabbit holes I went down. My original intent for Aziraphale being in town was as a response to pirates sacking Ostia in 68 BC. I had him stationed there to guard against further attacks as the town rebuilt, and had him lingering because he was swept away by the romanticism of the art and the sea and the constant ebb & flow of people. I never found a way to work this in that didn’t feel super awkward and expository since the chapter was Crowley POV, so it was just left it as background noise.

Chapter 6 (pyramid of Cestius): Beyond being a magistrate of one of the four great religious corporations in ancient Rome (the Septemviri Epulonum), little is known about who Gaius Cestius actually was. As the city expanded, his lavish tomb was absorbed into the city walls (circa 3rd century AD), where it remains what he is remembered for to this day. I took most of my information from here (cross referenced with our lord and savior, Wikipedia) and had a chuckle at this poem by Thomas Hardy.

Chapter 8 (Plague of Justinian): The Yersinia pestis bacterium leaves no indicator on skeletal remains, meaning we rely on written records to track its path through history. The 6th century plague pandemic is the first recorded outbreak of bubonic plague, and for the purpose of our story, a certain distraught chronicler was the one on site, writing that history.

A note/cw: I wrote chapters 8 and 12 in October and November, respectively, and did much of my research for them over the summer. I imagine, given the current covid-19 pandemic, these sources would be less fun to follow up on now. Please be aware that the podcast episodes linked here, and the book cited in the miscellaneous refs section, get into pretty grisly details about illness and pandemics.

Chapters 8 and 12 (bubonic plague/The Black Death): I took a fair amount of my notes on bubonic/pnuemonic plague, specifically it’s path of destruction through Europe in the 14th century, from the two plague episodes of This Podcast Will Kill You. It’s pretty fascinating stuff and the Erins are great hosts, so check it out if you’re into delightful nerds bantering about epidemiology! 

Chapter 9 (the death of Peter of Atroa): Peter of Atroa was an abbot whose fame as a miracle-worker landed him in a scandal accusing him of exorcising demons by the power of Beelzebub, rather than God. Theodore the Studite’s letter cleared his name enough to avoid execution, but his reputation didn’t fully recover until after his death in 837 AD, when he was canonized as a saint. Peter and Theodore were tough to find extensive information on without passing through a paywall, so I took these scraps and ran a mile with them.

Chapter 13 (Tlatelolco, the Aztec Empire, the Feast of the Dead): I used this site as the source and starting point on much of my research on the Aztec Empire. And listen… I know it looks like a website for babies, and yes, I’m aware that a lot of the articles are literally written for a pre-teen audience, but it’s also one of the most concise, thorough, well-researched, and — perhaps most importantly — easily-searchable sources I found. Most of the pages cite papers and archaeological journals and I was able to jump to SO many other great sources of information. Mexicolore has my undying love and devotion for making my research process easy and fun and also having lots of pretty pictures.

Most of the physical descriptions for Tenochtitlan and Tlatelolco (surrounding landscape, canals and causeways, chinampas, etc.) started here.

Tenochtitlan and Tlatelolco were independent cities, but shared a border (kind of like a city and a suburb) and the small island on Lake Texcoco (located where present day Mexico City is). Tenochtitlan was the capital city of the Aztec Empire, and besides cross-referencing Mexicorlore, the link in the previous bullet point, and Wikipedia, I got a fair bit of information from these essays. 

Tlatelolco’s market was the major hub of trade and commerce, and saw 20-40,000 people trading PER DAY. Research on the market started here.

Chapter 14 (Terschelling and the Brandaris lighthouse): While I strove for historical accuracy as much as possible in this fic, I did take some liberties— especially with the island of Terschelling and the Brandaris lighthouse (yes, it’s real!) circa 1350-1435. 

The village of Brandarius is based on present day West Terschelling— a settlement founded as a direct result of the lighthouse. In the middle ages, both the village and the lighthouse were named after Saint Brandarius (or Brendan of Clonfert: ‘The Navigator’, ‘The Voyager’, ‘The Anchorite’, ‘The Bold’; patron saint of divers, mariners, and travellers). It’s still a relatively small village today, and it was a surprisingly difficult task to find historical records for Brandarius/West Terschelling dating back to the 14th century that say much beyond “it existed.” I loosely based the village off information found here, and named it “Brandarius” instead of “West Terschelling” based on the information found here. 

The original lighthouse was built in 1323, destroyed by the sea in 1570, and rebuilt in 1594. Since there were no records (that I could find) of what the original lighthouse looked like, I loosely based the height and floor plan on the current tower, and made up everything everything else about the interior. The interior was based on information about other live-in lighthouses, specifically this one which is roughly the same height as the Brandaris.

The present day Brandaris lighthouse sits directly in the middle of West Terschelling. For the sake of that sweet Self-Imposed Exile + Cryptid Lighthouse Keeper drama, I took the liberty of making my fictional village of Brandarius teeny tiny and setting it slightly apart from the lighthouse. 

Miscellaneous references:

In addition to the podcast, details about plague in chapters 8 and 12 were gleaned from the book The Great Mortality by John Kelly. It’s a cool read if you’re into nonfiction that reads like fiction, but does have some rather graphic passages so proceed with caution.

Yaretzi’s maquizcóatl/Aziraphale’s memento. To clarify, they were NOT the same item. I pictured Aziraphale cherishing the memory of the day by the lake with Yaretzi so much, that once he acquired the bookshop and had a place for all his kitsch, he hunted down a bad luck dragon of his own.

Here is the Aztec creation story about sun cycles and Earth’s rebirths that Yaretzi told Aziraphale. Another version of it.

In the scene in Mexico where Aziraphale briefly remembers, I used an analogy about a moment that hovers and flits away as “quick as a hummingbird.” Besides just liking the words, this was a nod to the legend of the cempasuchil flower. I originally had Yaretzi telling Aziraphale that story too, but the chapter was just way too long and something had to go.

In my very first outline, I had Aziraphale’s grief and personal growth chapter taking place at a Día de Muertos festival in Mexico. When the plot and the timeline finally got ironed out and I realized only half of that story was going to take place on Earth, I ended up focusing on Aziraphale’s brief relationship with Yaretzi instead of the festival itself (she was always the important bit). I also found myself married to the idea of that chapter happening in the 14th and 15th centuries, which meant the scenes in Mexico take place before Spain invaded and the festival was based solely on its Aztec roots. Because the plot shifted in this way, a lot of research went on behind the scenes that never made it into the fic, but for anyone interested in the Aztec Feast of the Dead, Mexicolore was my starting place again. From there, I found my way to reading about Mictecacíhuatl, the Aztec goddess of death, who was the main focus of the festival.

This isn’t research, but it might interest, like… three of you, so here you go. The scenes in Heaven (Aziraphale’s solo chapter in general tbh) were hard to write. One of those walls you hit with writing where you kick and punch and bang your head against it for months (literal months, I started wrestling with it in August and it didn’t come together until the end of January) but can’t seem to make any breakthroughs. Inspiration truly comes from unexpected places though, and when @gottagobuycheese sent me this Gregorian chant generator it actually… worked? I cranked that hum slider up to 100 and left it there for a few days (to the chagrin of my spouse) and lo— Zophiel.

There’s a cool legend about Saint Brendan of Clonfert’s sea-faring journey in search of the Garden of Eden that has nothing to do with this fic beyond being neat parallel. If that happens to be anyone’s cup of tea, the story is here. The tl;dr version is here. My original vision for the lighthouse included carved whales (St Brendan’s attribute) over the front door, and images from this story (the island of sheep, the Christmas island, the paradise island of birds) drawn on the walls of one of the bedrooms used by previous keepers’ children. Continuing the theme of “how stories echo” if you will. It felt really awkward and out of place once I wrote it in though, and that chapter was already so long once I got through all the plot bits I wanted, so it was left on the cutting room floor. 

Speaking of taking liberties with the 14th century, I did fudge the timing a bit on the art created by Crowley and Adrielle. Drawings, especially pencil sketches, have their historical roots in the late 15th century, and I’m chalking this one up to the fantastical setting of the Good Omens universe. In a fantasy world where angels and demons walk among us and the earth is literally 6,000 years old, I feel like inventing pencils 100 years early is small potatoes. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

This is the edition of A Midsummer Night’s Dream that Crowley nicked in Norwich. There are some really wonderful illustrations and scans of full pages under that link. I may or may not have lost a few hours down that research rabbit hole for a few throwaway lines (no regrets, I fall like Crowley). 

One last rabbit hole...

I saved this bit for the end of the post since it’s not really research and I don’t know how interested people will be in this kind of thing. Also... this is a lot more emotional and personal than the historical aspects of the fic. This is just what I was feeling and thinking while I was writing, and this story is absolutely the kind of thing I expect everyone to take something different away from. If you read the fic, took your own meaning from it, and want to keep that meaning without me tarnishing it by babbling about symbolism (first of all, high five, I love you, thank you for hanging out with me and my stories), then feel free to skip the rest of this post. <3

But! For anyone who wants to know more about what I had in mind with the flowers and nature metaphors I worked into the story, read on!

The tag “it’s an OT3 where Earth is the third” is something I really worked to pull to center stage. In my mind, Earth was a fully formed character who also spent the pre-Fall storyline being jerked around by God and having its memory wiped. It experienced transformations, pain, heartbreak, joy, and love just like Aziraphale and Crowley did, and I wrote it as falling in love with the two of them over the course of the Earth Project, then remaining very much in love for the entirety of iteration 23 (the current iteration). “Memories that are buried in places deeper than the mind” referred to the soul imprints being formed, but also Earth’s buried memories— seeping through the cracks to connect them via synesthesia in emotionally charged moments, allowing them to find each other from orbit in iterations 20 and 21 (music and the sea), and pulling them together in moments of distress like Constantinople and Barcelona.

In the vein of “Earth as a character,” I used plants (mainly flowers), topography, and weather as Earth’s “voice” in the grief chapters when Crowley and Aziraphale were separated from each other and going through their individual arcs. I’m not sure it technically counts as flower language, since all the flowers featured in the fic were wild and growing in nature, but (almost) all of them served a metaphorical purpose.

Flowers:

Jasmine (for the moon): Aziraphale’s flower. Love, beauty, sensuality, good luck, purity. The rational hedonist.

Marigolds (for the sun): Crowley’s flower. Grief and remembrance of the dead, lost love, the fragility of life, creativity, winning the affections of someone through hard work. The fallen artist.

Purple Hyacinth: Earth’s flower. Regret, sorrow, a desire for forgiveness. The witness. These were the wildflowers that grew in the orchard/vineyard on the penultimate Earth, where Aziraphale and Crowley managed to work out the differences they couldn’t by the sea. Hyacinths are also the hazy images they would see in those moments of vulnerability, compassion, and compromise. 

A fun aside! In very early drafts, the placeholder name I was using for angel Crowley was Jacinto, which is a Spanish/Portuguese name meaning “Hyacinth.” It was meant to be a reference to both the flower and the Greek myth of Apollo and Hyacinth, but my brain absolutely could not disconnect it from Manny Jacinto (and kept insisting on imagining Crowley calling Aziraphale homie and calling everything dope). Eventually I leaned into the Latin and landed on Joriel, then attached my banner to the Achilles and Patroclus myth instead of Apollo and Hyacinth, but the name Jacinto still makes me think of starmakers.

Honeysuckle & morning glory, climbing the oak tree: Aziraphale + Crowley + Earth. Seen in chapter 10, when Aziraphale and Crowley shake hands on the Arrangement. Two plants whose vines grow in opposing spirals. In nature, they have a symbiotic relationship, twining around each other in order to climb trees, walls, and fences, allowing both of them to grow higher than they could alone. 

Or: local woman sees this tweet, hasn’t known peace since.

The deasilwise / widdershins (clockwise / anticlockwise) thing got sprinkled throughout the story, with deasilwise being the “angel direction” and widdershins being the “demon direction.” Halley’s comet, with its backwards orbit, orbits the sun deasilwise, even after Crowley becomes widdershins.

Amaranth: Immortality, unfading affection, finding beauty in inaccessible places. 

The garden in the dunes and Petya’s travelling garden:

Where Aziraphale took a methodical, Kubler-Ross approach to dealing with loss, Crowley’s process was meandering and chaotic. The garden in the dunes was where it all came to a head— his way of throwing all of his emotions on the ground like a big jumbled pile of pick-up sticks, then slowly sorting through them and putting himself back together. There was a whole lot of Earth/flower speech going on in those scenes.

With the exception of zinnias, the garden was made up of perennials or self-sowing flowers. This happened “off-screen” as I could never find a decent way to work it in, but... the zinnias which Crowley bullied into being perennials returned to being annuals and died off after he left Terschelling and sometimes I still cry in the shower about it. 

Zinnias: Adrielle’s flower. Endurance, lasting friendship (especially friendships lasting through absence), goodness, daily remembrance. This one is also a small self-indulgence on my part since Adrielle was something of a self-insert. My mother loves zinnias and, growing up, our house was absolutely surrounded by them in the summer. Anywhere there was a free patch of dirt, Mom planted zinnias. They’re a scrappy, weird looking flower that doesn’t have a smell and a lot of people find rather ugly... and I love them with my entire heart. There is no flower on this earth that fills me with more whimsy, nostalgia, or childlike contentment. Also butterflies love them.

Chamomile: Patience. Fresh chamomile flowers are very aromatic and smell like apples.

Daisies: Transformation. Also simplicity, loyalty, and new beginnings.

Poppies: Restful sleep or recovery, peace in death, remembrance.

Tulips: Each tulip color has its own meaning, but the most common thing they symbolize is deep love. That said, I mainly chose this one for their prevalence in the Netherlands, as well as being very colorful perennials.

Pansies: The love or admiration that one person holds for another, free thinking, remembrance.

Lily of the valley: Rebirth, the return of happiness. They also have a very strong, very sweet smell and can grow in cool climates. These were the main reasons I chose it, rather than any of the religious connotations.

Lavender: Silence, devotion, serenity, grace.

Orchids: There’s... actually no deep symbolism with this one. Nothing intended anyway. Orchids, lavender, and cranberries are the dominant native plants on the island of Terschelling. I thought they’d be pretty in the dunes.

I am also a music-must-be-playing-at-all-times kind of person and I came out the other end of this project with FIFTEEN (15) playlists. Some of them are all instrumental playlists that I used to set the mood while I wrote certain scenes/segments, others are lyrical and tell a story or helped me sort out the story, some chapters got entire playlists all to themselves (looking at you, 14th century). The main playlists are linked in the notes on AO3, but I may collect them all in a tumblr post at some point if there’s an interest.

This entire project was an enormous labor of love that took up pretty much all of my free time for six months. So, if you read this far... thank you for coming on such a long journey with me!! Truly, deeply, and from every corner of my heart, thank you for reading. <3

I feel like showing off my vinyl collection, feel free to show me yours!

I'm an avid 70s/80s/90s collector, and deeply wish I could've been alive for all of that, most of my vinyls are 70s/80s, some older, some newer. Some are 100% vintage, others are newly made/released. My dad (who brought me up on literally everything 70s and 80s) got me a record player for Christmas and helped me start my collection, since then it's grown rapidly.

First I must show off my RDR2 vinyls, with Marty Robbins' "Gunfighter Ballads", his songs are perfect to listen to while playing RDR2, "Big Iron" being one of my favorites.

Dad got me all 3 of my Queen albums for Christmas, as he knows that Queen is perhaps my favorite band of all time, I've been trying to find vintage vinyls of their albums rather than the newly remade ones, haven't had much luck yet but we will get there. :)

Did I mention that my dad and I are diehard Gordon Lightfoot fans? "Summertime Dream" and "Sundown" are perhaps my favorite albums. Lightfoot's song "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" holds a special place in my heart. While the song is based off of a true story, about the tragic sinking of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald on Lake Superior, this song has a deeper connection with me. My dad, my Uncle Rob, and my Uncle Rodney, they loved this song so much, they would sit and listen to it on repeat for hours and hours mesmerized by the story that it told, along with Lightfoot's iconic voice, and the instruments itself. This was their group song essentially. Unfortunately, on July 25, 2019 (a year ago this coming Saturday), my Uncle Rodney lost his battle with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease), he was only 49 years old, a year younger than my dad. It was something we would never expect happen to any of us, let alone him. Uncle Rodney went out of his way for everyone, he'd help everyone whenever he could and would never ask for or expect anything in return. He put his family first, he loved and cared for his kids the best he could, he worked his ass off hand crafting furniture out of cedar wood, and adding onto his home and designing it just the way a true country boy could ever want it, he was dedicated to his job, his family, and his friends. Hard to believe it will be a whole year this weekend, not a day goes by where I don't think about him, he was like a second dad to me, and I greatly wished that I'd had more time with him, especially hugs, he gave the best hugs.

However he'd want me to carry on and continue to be happy, and it was hard the first few months after he passed, I went into a depression spell, and starting coming out of it in February, and then I met the man who is now my boyfriend. I don't know if it was just coincidence, or if Uncle Rodney had a hand in all of it, but I shit you not, my boyfriend reminds me so much of him, including my dad. My family absolutely loves him and has taken him in already, and I've never been this happy. But alas, this isn't supposed to be my life's story, but some of these records mean so much to me, and Lightfoot's records will forever hold a special place in my heart, for the very sole reason you just read about.

Moving on! These are some great records I found on a clearance rack at a record store, all under $5 a piece! My grandpa is a huge John Denver fan, so he very much appreciates it when he stops by our house and hears me blasting that album from my room haha. My boyfriend loves The Oak Ridge Boys, and let me tell you, he can sing the oom poppa mow mows in the song "Elvira" perfectly, and I melt everytime haha. Rosanne Cash, her music gets played constantly whenever we are having a party at my Uncle Rob's house, so when I hear her voice, it makes me want to go down there and have a great time. The Outlaws, I only recently discovered them but I really enjoy this album in particular, "You Are the Show" is perhaps my favorite song on the album, I sing this one a lot no matter how terrible I may be at it, I can't help it lol.

Ah yes, more classics. My dad really enjoys when I decide to blast my CCR album (a birthday present from my boyfriend). "Fortunate Son" is probably my dad's favorite CCR song, and it is definitely his theme song. Boston and Molly Hatchet are two of my other favorites for sure, including Chicago, it has been awhile since I listened to them, but they sure are fun.

Oh these three here I love talking about. I mean, who doesn't love Footloose and Dirty Dancing? The Footloose record is vintage, the Dirty Dancing one is a newly released version, but I ended up buying it anyways as the record itself is that purple color of awesomeness. The Quiet Riot one I found at an antique store, my favorite album of theirs, and because it's a picture vinyl, I had to have it. It looks kickass watching it on the record player.

Any Fleetwood Mac fans? My witchy sisters, this is our music. I can actually sing Stevie Nicks pretty decently, my boyfriend absolutely loves it when I do. "Tango in the Night" is my favorite Fleetwood Mac album, I listen to this record religiously. Once I listened to it on repeat for about 3 days straight, and my dad eventually had to tell me to switch to a different record because he was ready to hear some other great music 😂 The song "Twisted" which Stevie sang with Lindsey Buckingham, was part of the 1996 movie "Twister" with Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt. My favorite movie, and my favorite Stevie Nicks song, might I also mention that I'm a weather nut and also studying for a degree in meteorology? Yeah, I also chase tornadoes, hence why "Twister" is my favorite movie.

And last but not least, these two little guys. Tiësto is perhaps my favorite DJ of all time, his classic hits and even the new ones, always give me such a vibe that is so enjoyable. My favorite mix of his? "Silence" by Delerium with Sarah Maclachlan, this was one of Tiësto's "In Search of Sunrise" mixes, and I still get absolute chills hearing it.

Oh yes, I forgot to add, a bunch of the vintage vinyls I bought, I got at Guestroom Records in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma while I was there back in May. They have a giant clearance section with records under $5, and of course they have all the newly released music, and even full collection sets. My favorite part? They also have a beautiful kitty cat that lives at the store and he/she is such a lovely kitty. So if you're in OKC and wanna buy some vinyls? This is your place.

So that's all of my vinyls I have so far! I hope you enjoyed seeing my collection, and reading about why they mean so much to me, I hope I didn't bore you too much with them haha. Again, feel free to show me some of yours! Tell me why they mean so much to you! :)

Someday Stars

Chapter 1/? Malec (Shadowhunters AU) Summary: Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane are both YouTube musicians who dream of making it big some day. When Simon Lewis and his band, Rock Solid Panda, go on tour and ask them to open for him, they both realize this could be their window to something greater.

Also here on AO3

Alec rushed around his apartment, creating a tornado's path with every step as his hands grabbed clothes as fast as they could. He knew he should have folded them after getting home from the laundromat last night. The email from Simon Lewis's management team still sat open on his laptop, which had been thrown unceremoniously to the end of his bed, the words still sitting on the screen: We will be back in New York City tonight and we would love to invite you to join our tour.If you will join us, you will be opening after Magnus Bane, and followed by Simon and the band. We will provide the bus, Simon does have room on his own. Please bring any merchandise you would like to sell. [Text from Izzy] OMG OMG OMG ARE YOU SERIOUS??????? YES, DO IT DO IT DO IT [Text from Izzy] while you're at it, get me some free tickets [Text from Mom] Oh, I'm so proud of you Alec! The book store and myself will be fine. Isabelle can help me. Go! I'm sure you'll make more money on the tour than here, anyway. We need to empty out your web store and send you with merch! [Text from Izzy] waIT I JUST SAW MAGNUS BANE IS THERE???!!!! TICKETS, BROTHER, YOU THREE ARE MY DREAM TOUR. [Text from Mom] Isabelle is screaming, I can hear her from downstairs. With each vibration Alec felt his anxiety grow, his hands shaking as he shoved the last thing he needed into the second suitcase. His eyes scanned over each text as he struggled to hold his phone, the smile growing on his face with each text they read. They lingered on the name Magnus Bane as he read Izzy's texts, he knew the name but he wasn't sure if he'd actually sat and listened to him. Both of them were musicians on YouTube aspiring to be as big as Simon had gotten, though according to Izzy, Magnus had just a slightly bigger following than Alec now because of the tour. Taking in a deep breath, Alec tilted his head back and closed his eyes, trying to focus himself on relaxing- he still had six hours until the tour reached New York City from their first shows in Boston and Hartford the previous nights.

"Alexa, start YouTube."

Alec said to the TV, releasing the button on the firestick as he moved into the kitchen. The cardboard of the pizza box he'd retrieved from within the fridge gave a dull thud as it was tossed onto the counter and a slice of cheese was taken out. "Magnus Bane," he said around a full mouth once he'd selected the search option, leaning against the counter as he watched the TV begin pulling up the search results. A few clicks had him on the fellow singers profile, his eyes scanning over the short bio on the About page. **NOW TOURING WITH ROCK SOLID PANDA** Singer/Pianist/Loverboy Web Shop Insta Twitter

Moving onto the main tab, Alec scrolled through, some of the highlighted ones being of Magnus sitting in a room decked out like a studio, or being in an actual studio. One or two was of him and a girl with a bright smile and dark eyes, her lips painted deep red and eyes with as much eyeliner as Magnus had. Alec noticed there was a trend of hearts on each video title with her in it, no doubt this was someone he liked or was dating and it came as no surprise, Alec thought as he took another bite of the pizza, Magnus was pretty attractive.

Scrolling to the top once more and finally selecting videos, he was surprised to see a video had been uploaded the day before, the preview screenshot much different than the bright, usually gold and purple themed photoshopped pictures he did in most of the videos Alec had scrolled past. This time is was Magnus illuminated on a stage by a single light from above, his head bowed as a grand piano sat at the mercy of his fingers. The picture was only titled HALLELUJAH, rather than the more descriptive titles on other videos.

Alec selected the video and moved to the couch to flop down with the pizza box. The camera shook a little, it was clear someone was holding it rather than it being on a tripod and self-shot. Alec wondered if it was someone from Simon's team or if Magnus had crew of his own- something Alec realized he didn't have any of which might create problems down the line. One of his dogs came over to the couch, a whine in her throat and vibrating against his knee as she rested her chin on him, looking longingly at the pizza in his hand as the piano started, soft and slow. Alec took a final bite before offering half of the crust to the dog, saving the other half for her brother.

Alec choked as he heard the voice come from his TV.

His whipped back to the screen as Magnus sang the first verse, his voice soft but firm like the notes being played on the piano. Despite the camera staying focused on Magnus and the piano as a whole, only moving as the person slowly circled the two, Alec couldn't stop staring at the look on Magnus's face. It didn't take a genius to know something was bothering him, that bright smile and lit up eyes from the video previews replaced by something dark, sad. His voice wasn't forced, but there was something in it that Alec knew all too well, he was singing this to someone- this upload was deliberate, a public liberation.

The camera came around to Magnus's side as he reached the second verse and once again his face was changing, sadness turning to anger and Alec could see the tears in Magnus's eyes. Alec's hand shifted on the remote, the volume on the screen going up as he leaned forward, not even noticing the other dog coming and slowly stealing the other crust half from his hand. “She tied you to her kitchen chair,” Alec could hear Magnus's voice getting louder, angrier, hearing the echo of both his singing and the piano echoing through the empty hall unveiled behind him as the person filming moved.

"And she broke your throne and she cut your hair," Magnus was hitting the keys harder. "And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah." Magnus's voice finally wavered, cracking as the pain seeped out in a moment of weakness, his fingers slammed down the final notes of the second verse before stilling. Alec's breath caught in his throat as he watched the singer take in a deep breath, the sound in the echoing silence monumental as the person filming paused, whether on purpose or a sudden feeling of remorse. "Hallelujah, hallelujah," It took a little under thirty seconds, but Magnus was playing again and this time, he was a broken man nearly whispering his lament. This was for the girl with the heart in her title. Alec finally found his breath as his lungs screamed for air, his heart pounding in his chest and, much to his surprise, his eyes stung with tears for the man on the screen. He didn't even know Magnus yet and already his heart was breaking with him as if he'd been through whatever relationship issues Magnus was having as well. Alec knew he put a lot of emotion in his music, thoughts and dreams into his lyrics, but here was someone who managed to bring him to a level he'd never reached before when listening to a performance. Whether it was the anger resurfacing or a sudden strength that Magnus had forgotten was in him, Alec came back to the moment when he heard Magnus singing the final verse of the song, his voice rising strong, normally low notes changed to high in such a beautiful time and contrast with the notes played on the piano, made his own and suddenly Alec could tell why Izzy was such a fan of the man on the screen. The final 'Hallelujah's' resonated through the hall, the camera recording him picking up each echo of the lyrics until the last note played and the echos faded away. Alec swallowed harshly, his tongue darting out over dry lips only to find everything was dry from his mouth being agape. Alec would be touring with the one who just poured his heart and soul out to not only the piano but his virtual audience. Magnus was a performer to a level that Alec wasn't sure he was ready to follow with his mellow tunes. Magnus was... amazing and Alec knew he needed to meet him. -- Simon waved Alec along behind him, his big goofy smile bright in the near darkness as the sun set behind the tall buildings in the horizon. Lights were just starting to come on and Alec had already been given a tour of Simon's bus, his bunk, and was alerted that all staff needs would be handled by Simon's staff due to the late notice in having him join the tour. It was a relief to say the least, since Alec wasn't used to any sort of tours, he was used to the safety of his recording room behind a microphone and camera with his guitar on his lap. "Come on, this is Magnus's bus. I'll introduce you to him." Simon said, not bothering to knock on the door and instead putting in the code on the door and letting himself in. It took only seconds after the door opened and they stepped up onto the stairs that a woman's harsh voice filled the bus. "You can't just tell me to leave! We've been together for years! YEARS, Magnus!" "Well maybe you should have thought of those years before you fucked two guys on the staff, Camille!" Magnus's voice snapped back, no hint of control there like he'd had in the video that was uploaded. Simon looked back at Alec, behind him on the stairs, like a deer caught in headlights. Neither wanted to move, neither wanted to say anything about them being there, purely out of fear of the repercussions. Alec shrugged and glanced behind him to see how they could back out slowly and quietly, only then noticing what looked like Magnus's staff out on the sidewalk behind them, seemingly waiting for the fight. Great of them to warn he and Simon. "It was a mistake! I had too much to drink, you know how things get!" Camille retorted, her voice going from harsh to pleading, Alec almost able to hear the tears in her voice. Cheap shot, he thought. It was Magnus's silence that had Alec peeking up slowly over the partition between the bus and the stairs, not daring to go up any higher like Simon was. Simon was actually impressed the two hadn't noticed them yet. Magnus looked done, his eyes tired and his lips void of the bright smile he had in every video; instead turned down in a deep frown. He looked thoughtfully at Camille and Alec almost wanted to tell him not to cave to guilt tactics, but this wasn't his place. He didn't know either of them, he didn't know the situation other than her cheating- he bit back the comment. "Camille, you need to leave. It's done. We're done." "Magnus, we--" "We went through this once before, two years ago, remember? You drank too much, you got loose with the wrong guy. I forgave you and said I would never do it again and now here we are, Camille. Back to this same old shit and I'm tired. I want to make something of my life and having to worry about keeping you close so you don't just fuck someone with a bottle of gin? That's not part of my life. Please get out." Magnus said finally and Alec watched him stare Camille in the eye, holding strong to his words. It was something Alec wasn't sure he could bring himself to do in a situation like this, but he felt an almost pride in Magnus for it. "No. No, Magnus, we can talk this o--" Camille started, though Simon clearing his throat caught her attention and she looked over at him, her pleading look turning into a sneer. "We're having a conversation here!" "One that it sounds like Magnus is done with. Look, this is between you two, but we have a show coming up tomorrow and I wanted to introduce Magnus to Alec..." Simon trailed off as he motioned behind him to Alec, who had ducked back down as if he wasn't there. Well, the jig was up. Alec straightened up, giving the two further in the bus a sheepish smile and a hesitant wave. "Uh, hey. I'm Alec Li--" "Lightwood." Magnus finished, sounding miserable still but Alec gave him a break on the smile he tried to force on his face. "I've seen and subscribe to you, you do great work." Alec felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn't heard of Magnus before, especially considering Magnus had at least a thousand more followers than he himself did. A hand rose to run through shaggy black hair in desperate need of a haircut, something he should of had done instead of spending hours watching Magnus's videos. Then again, he was sure Magnus probably followed a bunch of YouTube musicians, especially with a collab folder as large as he'd found under the video collections and the amount of 'Musician spotlight' shoutout videos that were also there. "It's nice to meet you, and ..." Alec looked to Camille, every bit of his willpower used to not make a face of displeasure. First impressions were important and the first of her was certainly something. "This is Camille, my ex-girlfriend. She was just leaving." The bag held towards Camille punctuated Magnus's words as he nodded towards the door. It didn't need to be said twice, Simon moved quickly out of the way and into the drivers seat area as Alec backed out of the bus to make room for her. It seemed like both men were eager to be rid of her, which Alec could only find himself mimicking to ease the moment. Camille looked between Magnus and Simon before she ripped the bag out of Magnus's hands, her eyes narrowing at him. "You'll regret this some day, Magnus. You don't know what you're losing." She spat out, her heels clicking harshly down the aisle of the bus and the stairs to follow. "You okay...?" Simon asked as he looked over to Magnus, moving further into the bus to pat his shoulder comfortingly. Alec was behind him though giving the two a bit of space, not wanting to intrude on the two friends that seemed to be having a moment. "I'm fine, thank you for stepping in. I didn't want to snap, I just..." Magnus sighed before glancing over Simon's shoulder and straightening his slumped back. "Mr. Lightwood, I'm glad you could join the tour. When Simon's manager mentioned wanting to reach out to you, I backed Simon and told her I highly recommended it. They were worried it was too last minute, but who gets a chance like this, right?" Alec found himself smiling at Magnus's smile, no matter how defeated it looked on the other man. "Yes, thank you, and thank you, Simon, for talking to her about me. Really, this is... I couldn't have even imagined I'd be here right now, much less going on a tour across the country performing for people, with other people." "Surreal, isn't it? This one is bigger than my last one, that was kind of just a small venue type thing where it was little crowds, but once we saw forums saying people were sad we were sold out, and when my manager saw people outside lined up around the block trying to get in still, they knew we had to go a little bigger this time. Really it was the last albums success, plus all the promotions and videos we threw up on YouTube that made it work for us. That last bit was at some persuasion of Magnus during one of the collabs we did of a Queen cover. Also we--" "Simon, you're rambling." Magnus chimed in, his fingers massaging his temple. Alec noticed the paint was slightly chipped, but he was sure there was more pressing things that Magnus had to worry about than that. "Oh! Oh, I am, yeah, sorry." Simon laughed and looked at the men he was basically sandwiched between. "Sooooo Alec, you should come see the venue and you can talk to my manager. Do you have a manager? They could talk about pay and stuff like that?" Simon's attention turned solely to Alec, who seemed nervous suddenly. "I... no. I mean, my mom handles a lot of my stuff like little shows around town and my sister handles my merch store but... I'm my own manager." "Nothing wrong with that, I'm my own currently as well. It's not so hard, I can show you the ropes." Magnus offered as he moved to the nearby fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and offering it out towards the two. Simon took it, Alec taking the next offered, and Magnus opened the third to take a long sip. "What order will we be doing this?" "I think you should go first to get the crowd riled up, then Alec, then me." Simon answered, his fingers fiddling with the cap of the water bottle. "Actually, I was thinking, if it's okay, if I go first and Magnus goes before you?" Alec said nervously, clearing his throat. He then looked to Magnus as he lifted a hand in defense, which had the other smirking. "Not that I want to displace you other anything, I just... you know, my stuff is kind of slower and I stand there and play my guitar. Magnus... is everywhere. I saw someone call him the next Freddie Mercury and I mean, I've been watching videos and--" "You've been watching me, Alexander?" Magnus mused, watching the faint trace of pink tint Alec's cheeks at both the comment and the name. "N-NO, I mean, yes, but-- look, what I mean is I think Magnus can get them more riled up and ready for you better than I can. He's got the energy like you, he's got an entire band to perform with, it's just me and--" "Are you torturing the new talent?" A woman's voice floated from the staircase, all three turning to look at the redhead watching them with amusement. "Ah! That's my manager. Alec, this is Jocelyn. Jocelyn, Alec. Her daughter, Clary, does the art for our flyers and shirts." Simon introduced, slipping past Alec to go over and greet the woman. "Should we show him the venue? Go over setlists?" "I think that would be the wisest decision, we don't have much time." Jocelyn nodded, smiling to Alec and Magnus before turning and moving back off the bus. "Alec, do you have a manager?" She asked as Alec came off the bus as well, followed by Magnus. "No, not yet. Just me. Magnus said he could help, though?" Jocelyn glanced past Alec to Magnus as he spoke, nodding in agreement. "I can help you out as well, we'll make you a natural. I've been teaching Simon along the way with the promise that he doesn't replace me." She winked to them and turned to lead them to the venue, the guard at the door opening it for them once he saw the badge around her neck. -- "This is..." Alec stood on the stage, looking over the rows of seating both on the floor and on the balcony above them. "Intimidating?" Simon asked. "Beautiful?" Magnus said at the same time, the two looking at each other with grins before they looked over at Alec. "Yeah," Alec answered with a breathless laugh, since both statements were pretty spot on. He'd played in coffee shops and small bookstores, but this was 10x's bigger than anything he'd been in before. It was surreal, almost so much so that he couldn't believe it was real. He was grateful for the opportunity and even more so of the moment that the two were giving him to soak it all in. Alec was sure they'd both had their own their first time, which Magnus had stated on their way in was the show they did in Boston. It apparently took him almost an hour to recover from it, and he only fully accepted it when they stepped into the Hartford venue. "You ready, big guy?" Jocelyn asked as she touched Alec's shoulder lightly, bringing him out of that moment and making him realize that Simon and Magnus had left his side and were now messing around with some of the equipment waiting for the show the next night. "Y-Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to get lost there." Alec could feel his face heating up, but Jocelyn looked plenty understanding and smiled at him, exuding the air of motherlike patience. "Hey, everyone goes there. Simon looked like a kid in a candy store his first big stage. Took me fifteen minutes to get him to stop running around with his arms up like some musical Rocky." She laughed and led him back to the others, putting a folder down on the table. "Alright guys, I think Alec was right in saying he should go first. No offense, Alec." "None taken." "Magnus you not only have energy, you're just infectious and now that ... she's gone, I think you're just free, kid. That Magnus you bottled up to keep an eye on her, let him go. Be the you we all saw on your channel, the one that we fell in love with when you came to the studio to do Killer Queen with them." Magnus's arms were crossed, his face neutral, but her pep talk seemed to bring a little bit of that light back and he couldn't stop the crook of his lips from forming a little smile. "You want me to..." "Break free." Jocelyn said with a playful wink, the two having found a bond over a shared love of Queen. "Are you guys flirting? This looks like flirting. I'm totally cool with it but like--" Simon's voice carried all the humor that Alec had expected from everything he'd seen on the RSP channel- he'd always seemed like the goofiest of the group. A shove from Magnus had Simon laughing and lifting his hands in a mock surrender. Jocelyn rolled her eyes though her smile was bright and she opened the folder, pulling out different papers and handing them to the men they belonged to respectively. "Alec, Clary and I went through your channel and we picked the videos with the most views, both covers and your originals, the same way we did with Magnus. What your homework is tonight is to go through this list and let me know if there's anything you want to add or remove. Remember that you have a 45 minute slot- so make sure the songs fit. It's okay if you go five minutes over, but we generally try to keep that to any crowd attention and loving you want to do after you perform. Magnus, you do the same, though I'm sure you want to keep your set, and Simon- anything you want to switch up?" Alec was completely baffled at the situation, he had always just assumed that artists picked out their own list of their most current music and then just random songs from different albums, but it made sense that they would go with the most popular since after all, that was what sold tickets. Simon was busy scribbling out one song and replacing it with another and Magnus---- Magnus was watching him. Alec froze, unable to tear his eyes away from the stare they'd become locked into, and it wasn't until Magnus gave a smile, a genuine one this time, that Alec was able to look away, instead focusing on the paperwork on the table. "This list is pretty good, I think I might replace two, but not too much more than that." Alec stuttered as he felt himself grow hot once more. What in the hell was going on with him? "Great, make sure you have it to me by 10 A.M tomorrow. The sound guys will need to go over everything with you and get pre-testing done, so we'll want to take care of that after to make soundcheck move smoothly tonight. Also, you're free to stay in your own place while we're in the city as long as you promise you'll be back on time, assuming you live in the city?" Jocelyn was excited herself to be near her own bed and it was very evident in her tone of voice. Looking around the table, Simon and especially Magnus looked just as relieved to be back home, even though they'd only been gone for less than a week. Alec could only imagine what it would be like in a couple weeks when they'd only be a month into the six month tour. "Yeah, I live about twenty minutes from here so I think that's great. My dogs will appreciate it." "Dogs? You have dogs? You should bring them!" Simon chirped, perking up at the mental image of having dogs with them all as stress relief. "Simon, no. There isn't enough room on the bus and we just started the tour. It's going to get crazy. Let's revisit that in a month, okay?" Jocelyn's words were only relenting at the end when Simon's smile dropped and she even noticed Magnus looked bummed. Alec smiled at the trio in front of him, feeling like they all were Jocelyn's new adopted kids. Admittedly it would be a little nice having a mom on the road, especially since this would be the first time Alec would be far from his own. There was no doubt he was a mama's boy, and there was nothing he would do to deny it if ever called out on it. As Jocelyn and Simon spoke about the setlist change once more, Alec's eyes caught Magnus's at the same time as Magnus had started looking at Alec, the two staring at each other subtly for a moment before Magnus was spoken to by Simon. This would definitely be an interesting start to a new beginning for Alec.

2. We can spend hours working on the right sound.

Queen’s first concert in Japan, 1975. (From Music Life June Issue 1975)

Already popular in Japan, Queen caught fire with the third album SHEER HEART ATTACK, which follows QUEEN II. They performed for the first time in Japan in April and May 1975. After he recovered, even Brian took part to the interview, and they told us once again their opinions about the band’s origin and their released works.

**********************************************************

Weren’t you surprised that there were a lot of female fans gathered at the airport and at the hotel waiting to meet you?

RT: To be honest, all of us were expecting that a bit. However, to receive such a welcome was beyond our imagination. It’s an amazing thing. It’s a relief that there weren’t hysterical groups and exaggerations as it happened in the past. We were at the point that we couldn’t even take a step out of the hotel.

You played concerts in America before coming to Japan, right?

FM: That’s right. It’s been 4-5 months since we’ve left England and we’re travelling. The concerts started in England, we travelled Europe and then we went back to England for a little while for Christmas and right after that we started a long American tour. We stopped in Hawaii to take a rest for 2-3 days and we came here.

How was America’s reaction?

RT: It was a huge success. I think it was a very good trip. Since we performed in many other cities than we previously did, our confidence jumped out throughout this tour because we could finally make it even in America.

I know that it was a huge success in every city…

RT: Aaah, it’s unbelievable. North America was where we had the most resonance. Also, in both the East and the West Coast. I know that the records sold well in the East. However, the spark catches fire always later in the West Coast. The South is tiresome for English bands. But, in general, we received a good reaction in every city. The only exception was Texas.

FM: That was mainly the promoter’s fault.

Brian May: On the other hand, there was a fantastic resonance in New York and Los Angeles, we were happy. It made it possible for us to know that there is a new market, we felt that we gained strong supporters.

RT: From Boston, the most trend-aware place was Cleveland. While we were trying to visit America it was like visiting completely different countries. Everything is different depending on each state. You don’t have control over the communication between states.

Where are you going after Japan?

RT: We’ll be able to go back home! It will be a holiday after the harvest season (as John opens his mouth from the side to add: “Just for two, three days” everyone looks downhearted)

And then you’ll start the recording?

BM: Yes, of the next album.

Have you already planned the next album?

BM: Not clearly, yet. Many people asked us but, actually, it’s often impossible to predict what will be done until our recording isn’t completed. But I’m not talking about the (total) concept album or similar. We let things take their course. I think that the songs will probably be completed before we go to the studio, as it happened with our previous albums. But the only certain thing is that it will turn out to be something different than the previous albums.

RT: The sound is probably going to change so that it won’t end up being boring. This is because it already happened when we were always doing the same things.

When will the next album be released?

FM: I guess around Christmas. (and then he looks at the other members. They all say: “We’re not certain”) We want it released as fast as possible.

How long does it take to make an album?

FM: It takes a very long time. That’s why I think that it’s impossible that the next album comes out before Christmas. And I think this album will be in a different format. I guess it’s clear that we did the recording of all the three albums all at once. However, this album will allow us to take a little more time: to go back and resume recording after going on a trip or while taking a break sometimes. This is because ideas spring out better this way. We can’t wait to start, because it’s like something new is about to happen to us.

RT: This is a memory from America, but when we landed there we were a bit worried, because when we thought that our album was in the 100th position of the hit chart, it immediately fell off. But when we left America, both the album and the single were again ranked in the top 100 and they actually seemed to still rise in the chart. So we were relieved, finally.

Freddie, have you started any new compositions for the new album?

FM: No, I have a few ideas but I’m not good to the point of being able to write along the way. Anyway, I often do that away on tour, so I don’t stick to writing only in the peace of my home.

Do you like to mix down?

FM: We are people who spend a lot of time on anything.

RT: We can spend hours working on the right sound. If the back track is weak, we try to put a sound on it, if it’s not good, we start over. We spend a lot of time on overdubbing, too. Because we don’t have to worry about doing things in a rush. (Brian adds: “We also spend a considerable amount of time on cutting”)

Where do you do the cutting?

BM: At Trident Studios. But, lately, when we went there, we couldn’t quite obtain what we wanted. So we took the tape to America and, when we tried to do the cutting there, it turned out way better than what we did at Trident Studios. We did it at Mastering Lab in New York.

FM: Actually, we’re doing everything by ourselves: while we’re doing the cutting we’re also making the CD jacket at the same time. But it’s good to be absorbed in our work.

Then, could you tell us about the aim and the theme of the three albums released so far?

BM: Actually, we don’t set down. (he means that they don’t establish rules and standards) We just want to make an album that leaves achievements behind. But I suppose that the only album with such thing as a concept was our second one, QUEEN II. Though it was the result of a coincidence, or, more precisely, there was a Black Queen and a White Queen by coincidence.

FM: I think there’s one concept. The record recreates what we were trying to do at the time. People say that QUEEN II is a concept album. However, it’s no more than a step towards the direction we’re trying to take. I mean, we don’t set big plans before we start making a record. We did no more than what we wanted to do at the time.

BM: It’s such a ridiculous thing. They see us as we’re trying to look for something, though we’re not trying to do anything like that. You’ll get over pampered for that reason, and you’ll end up thinking that you have to work very hard and put devotion in what the others expect. But this is hard. It took a lot of time for us to get noticed. That’s why they may have said that “there is no youth”. But I always remember the music I used to listen when I was 10. We were constantly thinking “Aah, if only we had their chance” while listening to Led Zeppelin and The Who. It’s for this reason that we always roam about between the music of that time and the music we’re doing now.

It seems that you all were acquainted before Queen were formed.

BM: Yes, absolutely. Roger and I have known each other for a long time and both of us were hanging out with Freddie since before. We’ve got to know John quite recently. Around 4 years ago. (John nods)

Who’s the one that mainly writes the lyrics?

FM: We don’t decide who is in charge. Everyone writes compositions and then, usually, we add the lyrics, but all the members worked on “Stone Cold Crazy”. This is the first song for which all of us wrote the lyrics, but usually each one brings an outline of the song, listens to it with the other 3 and incorporates ideas.

Please tell us your favourite album among the three.

FM: Uhm, it’s difficult, because I like all three of them. If had to choose only one I’d say SHEER HEART ATTACK. Even when we released the first album I thought it was a very good one, but when I look back now, I think that it's getting better every time we release an album. There is no room for development if you’re satisfied with one thing. I really liked even the second album when it came out, it was exactly what we wanted. I think it’s a good one even when I listen to it now but in this way we’re learning something new with every work.

RT: I think that the best was SHEER HEART ATTACK.

BM: Mine is QUEEN II, for many reasons. Because you can feel that it’s a very intense album.

FM: All three are different. That’s why I like all the three albums. In QUEEN II there’s drama but in SHEER HEART ATTACK we decided that this wasn’t necessary.

Your lyrics are very ambiguos, are you doing that on purpose?

BM: We are proud of it.

RT: I don’t like bad language. Brian is a literary man. It's okay not to use slang, but my the grammar is messy and the spelling is wrong… (everybody bursts into laughter)

FM: It’s a hard work to add lyrics to a composition, indeed.

RT: If the record will get a bad reputation it’s because the spelling is wrong. (he laughs)

Does it bother you if you receive a bad review?

FM: It depends on what they write. If it’s a fair judgement, we don’t mind. There are also articles that we wonder if they were written after properly listening to the record. Because it really can hurt if you’re criticized on the wrong information. They not only wrote terrible things about our songs in the past, but it happened that they mistook who was playing which instrument. Those people didn’t clearly listen to the record. That is a completely unjustified slander. Because if those magazines are influential, many people will end up believing them.

On another note, is any of you married?

FM: No one is. We’re married to the music.

Brian, I heard you’ve been a school teacher?

BM: Yes, I’ve taught maths to students from 12 to 18 years old. It was more like a hobby to me because I did it as a representative teacher or a lecturer. It was truly a fresh and meaningful experience.

What was the occasion that led you to become a musician?

BM: There isn’t a particular occasion that led me to give up on teaching and become a musician. Music was the closest to what I wanted to do the most. It doesn’t mean that I made a change of direction, I can always teach again and do astronomy, if I feel like it. I like astronomy.

Freddie, you were an art college student?

FM: I studied for 3 years at Ealing. A graphics and illustration specialization course. At first, I took a fashion course but since I didn’t like it very much I switched to graphics. I still like to draw and collect pictures.

RT: He designed the band logo. The lettering of the Queen logo and all the other things were done by him.

Would you make a comment on the following groups? First, Led Zeppelin.

ALL: Amazing band. We did concerts at the same time in New Orleans and Los Angeles and we exchanged ideas. We’ve been friends since then.

Bad Company.

BM: A good band. Amazing singer and amazing drummer. We also get along with them. I think Paul Rodgers is really a great singer.

Average White Band.

ALL: Even though the records are great, the live performances are not good. It certainly is a good band but it doesn’t meet our tastes.

What are your plans for the future?

ALL: We’re going to have lunch for the time being. Because we haven’t eaten anything since morning. (they laugh)

We’re terribly sorry.

ALL: It’s fine, MUSIC LIFE is the first magazine that introduced us to Japan. And also, you write almost every month about us. We’re extremely grateful, so we’d do anything to cooperate. We want to take this opportunity to thank all the readers from the bottom of our hearts. Thank you very much, to all of you. We’re very glad that you’ve chosen QUEEN II as the “album of the year” in the popularity contest of MUSIC LIFE. A great trophy is the best present. Thanks again!

**********************************************************

T/N: Second interview from the Music Life special issue about Roger Taylor. As always, I am not an English native speaker, so forgive any possible error. Also, remember that translating into a foreign language is difficult and I hope I have preserved the original meaning.

Stella | Ethan Ramsey x MC (one shot)

Check out my other stories here - MASTERLIST

A/N: This fic is inspired by an interpretation I read about the song Almost (Sweet Music) where in it’s about a father/daughter relationship where in the daughter reminds the father of her late mother. 

I made a post before asking what would Ethan call his daughter. Shout-out to @bi-cookie who suggested that Ethan would call his kid ‘peanut’, which is really cute.  

And, sorry if there are any grammatical error. English is not my first language.

Warnings: Mentions of character death

Taglist: @lilyofchoices @honeyandsunfl0wers @kate-mckenzie @assassinoftheworld @choicesyouplayandmore @jooous [If you want to be added or removed from the taglist, just let me know :))) ]

Song: Almost (Sweet Music) - Hozier  youtube link, spotify link. I also used the song Stella By Starlight - Ella Fitzergald as part of the story.

It was a hot summer day in Boston. Ethan walked into their house with his nearly six-year-old daughter, Stella, in his arms, fast asleep. She must be tired from their trip. It was his day off, and his daughter wanted to roam around the town.

They moved from his high-rise apartment when they knew that Casey was pregnant with Stella. Oh, what a news it was. At first, he was horrified. He was afraid that he would not be good enough for his child. He was afraid that he would end up just like his father, but she assured him that they would go through it together.

And now, Stella is turning six next week.

If only Casey could see her now. If she could only see how much their daughter has grown since. 

  “I’m so sorry Ethan” Naveen said, offering his condolences to his protege.

 “I don’t know Naveen. Of all the people, why does it need to be her?” Ethan asked. She was just going out to meet her friend, and a few minutes later, he got a call that his wife was hit by a car. Now, Stella was left without a mother.

He looked at his two-year-old daughter, unaware of what was happening around her. “What about Stella? What am I supposed to do now that... that Casey’s gone?” He tried his best to sound strong, but hell, he can’t. He can’t be strong when his wife just died and now his daughter is left without a mother. What was he supposed to do? Where would he start? What if…

  “You have to be strong for her. You have to be there for her.” Naveen broke his train of thought.

 “Easier said than done, Naveen” 

 “But what isn’t?” he patted Ethan on his shoulder, before leaving him to have other people offer their condolences at Casey’s funeral.

But he didn’t want their sympathy and condolences. What he wants is to wake up from the nightmare he’s in. But unfortunately, this was reality, and in this reality, his wife is gone.

 It wasn’t easy to raise his daughter alone. Not when she easily reminds him of his late wife. With how both Stella and Casey smile brightly, with how they both laugh wholeheartedly. With Casey’s blonde locks and green eyes which Stella inherited. It was a painful reminder of what happened four years ago. Casey told him that they would do everything together, raise their daughter together, but she was gone. He did not know where to start, or what to do. He was afraid to ruin everything for Stella.

Ethan settled his sleeping daughter down at her bed, watching how peaceful she looks. She looks just like her mother. He smiled sadly at her, as he remembers his late wife.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Stella asked him, as she woke up, sensing her father’s sadness.

Ethan tried to be strong in front of his daughter, but a stubborn drop of tear fell down his cheek. Stella wiped his tear away from his cheek, her small hands on his face.

“Don’t be sad, daddy” she said as she got up and engulfed her father in a hug, with her tiny arms around him to comfort her father.

Ethan let out a small chuckle. “Daddy’s not sad. I’m just thinking about mommy.”

“What about her?” she asked, pulling away from the hug.

“How she looks just like you.”

“But mommy is beautiful. Does that mean I’m beautiful too?”

“Of course. You are the most beautiful girl in the world”

“Really?” she asked, her face lighting up in delight.

“Yeah. Just like mommy”

“I miss mommy” Stella blurted out.

He too, misses Casey so much. There isn’t a single day where he didn’t wish that they were raising Stella together. That they’d be doing it all side by side. Though he was getting better as time pass by, there are still times where it all comes back. He smiled sadly at his daughter.

“Me too, peanut. Me too”

Stella let out a yawn.

“Sleepy?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah. Can you sing to sleep?”

“What song?”

“The one with my name in it. The one you told me mommy used to sing”

Ethan smiled softly at his daughter before he started to sing.

The song a robin sings 

Through years of endless springs 

The murmur of a brook at eventide 

That ripples by a nook where two lovers hide

A great symphonic theme 

That's Stella by starlight and not a dream 

She's all of this and more 

She's everything that you’d adore

Have you seen Stella by starlight with moon in her ave

That's Stella by starlight raptures so rare

She's is all of this and more

She's everything that you would adore 

He remembered, when he first heard Casey sing, he was absolutely captivated by her voice. Like the world around him stopped moving. As if nothing exists but her. He loved jazz music, as much as how much he loved classical pieces, and he was left surprised when Casey sung that song to him once.

And now, Stella seems to like jazz music as well. Oh, how she’s almost like her mother.

“Goodnight, daddy. I love you”

“I love you too, peanut. Goodnight” he kissed her forehead then he turned off her lamp.

----

[Next day]

He walked inside the hospital holding Stella’s hand on his. Other doctors greeted him, and to their surprise, Ethan greeted them back with a smile on his face. Stella, on the other hand, looked around the hospital in awe.

Her nanny cancelled last minute, so he had no choice but to bring Stella to work. They continued walking down the hospital halls until they reached his office. He settled down her bag that down on the chair.

“Hey little peanut” he crouched down to level his height with Stella’s.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll be quiet while daddy is working. Do you promise?”

“I promise”

“Good. Now, daddy is going to work. You could play with your toys.” he said, kissing Stella’s forehead.

He then started to work, continuing his new research. Stella on the other hand, played with her math flashcards quietly as she promised her dad. Ethan glanced at his daughter, smiling at her enthusiasm to learn advanced math for her age.

An hour later, the door to his office opened.

“I didn’t know it was ‘take your child to work day’ today” Naveen said, as he closed the door.

“Grandpa Naveen!” Stella ran towards Naveen and caught him in a hug.

“Hello to you too, kiddo” he greeted the child back.

Ethan sighed. “Her nanny cancelled last minute, so I had to bring her here”

“And are you being a good girl, Stella?”

“Yeah!” She replied enthusiastically.

“Anyway...” Naveen said, but before he even finishes what he was about to say, a knock from the door interrupted him.

“Doctor Ramsey?” A shy voice from the other side of the door was heard.

“Come in” Ethan said

The intern entered the room, fear visible on her face.

“I-I just wanted to give an update about my patient in room 402.”

“Go on”

“Uh, the patient had an anaphylactic shock, and currently unconscious. I think she’s allergic to the medications I gave her”

“You think?”

“Uh, I-I know, doctor”

Ethan took a deep breath. No matter how strong the urge was, and no matter how much the intern deserves to be berated, he can’t bring himself to yell at the intern with his daughter watching. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down.

“Sometimes, the patient doesn’t know about their allergies...”

“But how am I supposed to know if they don’t tell me?” the intern cut him off.

Ethan took another deep breath. No, he’s not going to scold an intern in front of his daughter, he told himself.

“That is why we need to be careful in giving them medication. Update me if there is a development on your patient’s condition”

“Y-yes, Doctor.”

The young intern walked out of his office with fear and confusion – due to Ethan’s sudden change in behavior, making him sound a lot kinder than he actually is, etched on her face.

Ethan let out an audible sigh, rubbing his eyebrows.

“Are you okay, daddy?” Stella asked, as she came towards her father

“I’m fine, peanut. Just a little stressed.”

“Don’t be stressed. You’ll look old” Stella elicited a laugh from her father with her words. She massaged his frown lines, easing the tension away from his face.

He remembered how Casey used to ease the tension away from him. How she used to kiss his forehead whenever he was stressing himself over work that he brought home. How she used to do that with little Stella on her arms, sleeping. He remembered how she also used to joke about that he’ll look older if he stresses himself out.

“All better now?” asked Stella

“Yep. A whole lot better now.” Ethan kissed her forehead. “Thank you, peanut”

“You’re welcome, daddy” she said, then returned to play with her toys.

“Look at you. For someone who scares the heck out of interns and residents, you are surprisingly really soft towards your daughter” Naveen said to his protégé.

“Of course. She’s my kid. She’s different.”

“But you know, I’m happy to see you happy.”

“How can I not be? Stella’s like a ball of sunshine”

No matter how hard Casey’s death was for him, he had to be strong for his daughter. She’s all that matters to him right now. And in return, Stella made his life brighter. She made her father happy and proud.

“Anyway” Naveen continued what he was about to say earlier before the intern interrupted. “This is an invitation from the organizers of the medical conference in Canada in October. They want you to be a guest speaker” Naveen hands him the invitation.

“Thank you.”

---

[Later]

It has been a long time since they last visited Casey’s grave. After his shift, they headed out to the cemetery. They stopped over to buy flowers and they continued their drive. Their drive from the hospital was short and filled with conversation and laughter.

As they reached her grave, he put the flowers down on the ground.

“Hi love” Ethan let out a sigh before he continues. He knows it’s pointless to talk to her grave, knowing he she won’t hear it, but maybe, if heaven was even real, maybe she’ll hear him. He knows it’s absurd, but he also wanted to let it all out. “Sorry if we only get to visit you now. You know how busy the hospital is. But don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Great, actually. Stella’s been doing really well in school. In fact, her teacher told me that she might get accelerated. Guess she inherited her intelligence from you. You know, she’s really starting to be like you. There is absolutely no doubt that she’s your daughter.” Ethan let out a small smile, as he looked at Stella briefly. “I wish you’re still here, so we could raise her together and you could see her grow. She’s grown so much since... since you were gone.”

He shifted his attention to Stella. “Do you want to talk to mommy?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah” She answered. “Hi mommy. I miss you.” Stella shyly says to her mother’s grave.

“Yeah. We miss you. We miss you so much, love.”

---

The sun was beginning to set, giving the sky a tint of orange. The drive back to their home was quieter than their drive to the cemetery. That is, until Stella to break the silence.

“Daddy, can I ask you something?”

“Hm? Ask away”

“Do you still love mommy?”

“Of course, peanut. I will never stop loving mommy” Ethan answered in a heartbeat.

“Even if she’s in heaven now?”

Ethan smiled softly at her before answering.

“Even if she’s in heaven now”

 [end]

I am going to kill you and ask you to do every number on that ask post

You devious yet cute bastard, I’m in.

1. What is you middle name?

Personal information so I’m not divulging it, but it abbreviates to X.

2. How old are you?

Legal.

3. When is your birthday?

September 26.

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Libra/The Scales/The Dragon/Terepy

5. What is your favorite color?

Dark Green. #127712 specifically.

6. What’s your lucky number?

I think 2? I do like 12 though.

7. Do you have any pets?

Not anymore. I used to have two dogs though.

8. Where are you from?

Florida. I came out of the swamps.

9. How tall are you?

5′10″

10. What shoe size are you?

28cm, Women’s 11.5, Men’s 9.5, that’s what my sneakers say.

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Two. A pair of loafers so broken down I avoid wearing them whenever possible, and a pair of fine sneakers.

12. What was your last dream about?

All I remember is that Duff McWhalen’s theme song was playing throughout it and it was really annoying after a while.

13. What talents do you have?

I would say my talents are acute memory of obscure topics, vivid storytelling, and I’m pretty good at video games.

14. Are you psychic in any way?

It doesn’t happen with much frequency nowadays, but when I was younger and it happened a bit more often, I could always tell when I was being observed with no other clues. I could feel the eyes on my back. I can also bend spoons and set fires with my mind but that’s less interesting.

15. Favorite song?

More like favorite song right now, but probably Rocket Surgeon.

16. Favorite movie?

The Persona 3 movies currently.

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

Off of the top of my head, I’m imagining someone who’s heart-throbbing to look at (pretty women or cute boys), pretty sharp, tough to boot, has a lot in common with me, and is understanding too. I’ve got a few quirks, and it’d be nice to know that I’m not condemned to dying alone because of them.

18. Do you want children?

Not in the slightest.

19. Do you want a church wedding?

I don’t even want a wedding wedding. If we’re partners, isn’t being together enough? From what I know, weddings just add unnecessary stress and complication.

20. Are you religious?

I’m definitely spiritual, and Religion connected to that, even if I don’t devote myself to a specific doctrine. It’s less pantheism and more “they’re probably all true to an extent and also SMT is real”. In any case I just try to be a good person.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

As a patient, none that I could remember but I know I went because of various injuries. As a visitor, quite a few times.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

I’ve done things that would get me in trouble with the law, but have not run afoul of them yet. The closest would be that one time I was staying at a hotel, and the police knocked on my door and asked if I knew where someone was living. I didn’t, but I guessed anyway, and that’s how half the hotel had the police knocking on their door.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

No.

24. Baths or showers?

Showers.

25. What color socks are you wearing?

White with grey soles.

26. Have you ever been famous?

I have a lot of followers on this tumblr blog, would that count?

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

I want to be a famous author, so kind of. But I want to still retain my anonymity and not have my real name and face attached to stuff. Yoko Taro gives me hope in that regard, because he’s rather famous but any information we know about him, we know on his terms. That’s how I want to live.

28. What type of music do you like?

I usually listen to video game OSTs, and most of the ones I listen to are so genre-blending so it’s hard to pin down. Most of it is instrumental, but I’m not opposed to music with vocals. Genres aren’t cohesive, so I’d say “music that makes you want to punch robots to” and “music that makes you want to talk to friends to”. J-rap is pretty good though.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Hell no!

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

One.

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

I toss and turn before going to sleep and while asleep, but my back seems to be consistent.

32. How big is your house?

It’s pretty decent. 2 room 1 bath, and the living room is rectangular.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

Milk & cereal, or pop-tarts.

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

No, but I want to.

35. Have you ever tried archery?

I think once in grade school. I wish I could try again though.

36. Favorite clean word?

Cerebral just off the top of my head.

37. Favorite swear word?

Bastard or Shit. The former is innately funny and all-purpose to refer to someone. The latter is so versatile it can be used in any context.

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

I think a day, although the standard is around 18.

39. Do you have any scars?

I don’t think so.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

I think there was one person in school who had a thing for me but they were gay and at the time I thought I was straight, so I paid them no mind. There was also someone who said “X likes you”, but I didn’t know who X was so I said “cool” and went on my way. I was also propositioned once in middle school, but that’s less “secret admirer” and more “sexual harasser”.

41. Are you a good liar?

I think so.

42. Are you a good judge of character?

For good people, yes. For bad people, no.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

Yeah. I remember playing Undertale and my little sister was nearby, and I decided to voice all the characters. I had a lot of fun!

44. Do you have a strong accent?

I’m actually the only member of my family that doesn’t have a Boston accent.

45. What is your favorite accent?

Russian, hands-down.

46. What is your personality type?

According the the Myers-Briggs test I just took, ISFP-T/Adventurer. Which is bizarre considering I’m pretty sure I got a different result a year or so ago. According to “what word would you use”, droll.

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

I have no idea. Either those sneakers, or the heavy winter jacket I got when I was in Colorado. Both were gifts, so I never saw the pricetag, but my Dad said they were pretty nice-looking.

48. Can you curl your tongue?

Yeth.

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

Inside.

50. Left or right handed?

Left.

51. Are you scared of spiders?

My knowledge of spiders is well enough that I know at least 2 types of spiders who can kill you horribly in one bite, and know little enough that I can’t tell any of them apart from common house spiders. I’m more afraid of dying stupidly because the boner spider snuck up on me than the idea of spiders themselves.

52. Favorite food?

Either Macaroni & Cheese or Cheeseburgers.

53. Favorite foreign food?

Burritos probably, even though I usually only eat meat and cheese on them. Are you detecting a theme because I am.

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

I try to be clean, but I’m usually a bit scattered.

55. Most used phrased?

“says something about”, “despite that” are some. Although I know I tend to use a few stock phrases When I Post Long.

56. Most used word?

I wouldn’t even know where to begin finding that out.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

Maybe a few minutes, although I’m usually working on a set routine.

58. Do you have much of an ego?

I don’t think I do. If I do, I tend to exaggerate it or turn it to a positive end.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

No matter how hard I want to keep it at sucking, I usually bite at some point. Don’t screencap this.

60. Do you talk to yourself?

Yes.

61. Do you sing to yourself?

No.

62. Are you a good singer?

Also no.

63. Biggest Fear?

Most if not all of my friends, and the people I admire as well, all either start hating me or end up hating me and I lose every social connection I have or want to have. The reason varies, whether it be my fault or someone slandering me, but being hated by people I like freaks me out. As does the idea of not being able to tell my stories.

64. Are you a gossip?

I’d like to say no but considering I rather frequently discuss discourse in my Discord chats, I guess I am.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

I do not watch drama films.

66. Do you like long or short hair?

On myself, long-to-middle length. On others, any length really.

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

Probably not.

68. Favorite school subject?

Social studies was a strong suit of mine.

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Introvert.

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

No.

71. What makes you nervous?

Time passing and things not getting done.

72. Are you scared of the dark?

No. The things in the dark can eat it too.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

Yes, but I try to be kind about it. Or funny.

74. Are you ticklish?

I haven’t been tickled recently, so I wouldn’t know.

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

No. At worst, I’ve spread information I don’t think is 100% accurate, but I ALWAYS disclaim that it shouldn’t be trusted without further research.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

I’m an older sibling, so yes.

77. Have you ever drank underage?

No.

78. Have you ever done drugs?

No, but I was offered twice. Once by an irresponsible (and awful) authority figure, once by some kids in the bathroom. Both times I said “no thanks”, and funny enough the former tried to change my mind, and the latter just said “ok cool”.

79. Who was your first real crush?

Oh god here come the bad memories. I’m heavily abbreviating and redacting information to protect the identities of me and all involved, but in Colorado I met someone in middle school who more or less fit all my parameters for “ideal partner”. But I was terminally nervous and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so I left it at that. Eventually I had to abruptly leave the state for reasons I don’t want to get into, and all a week or so later I made a Facebook account and found all my friends. My contact with my crush was the most constant. Eventually, I was talking with a different buddy, and they mentioned romantic problems. I mentioned I had some too, and they eventually ferreted it out of me. They told me I should confess, and I said no, both because I want to remain friends, and because I can’t do a long-distance relationship. They told me they’d go behind my back if I didn’t, and I warned them not to. Five minutes later, I get messaged by my crush. To put it short, it wouldn’t work out. I stopped talking to both, and was pretty depressed afterwards, to the point where I couldn’t feel any romance, sexuality, or companionship towards anybody. I got over it sometime later, and I think I realized I was bi around the same time. I kind of wish I could smooth things over, but it’s been so long I don’t think it’s an option anymore. Plus Facebook has a horrible interface and is terrible so I really don’t want to.

80. How many piercings do you have?

Zero.

81. Can you roll your Rs?“

No.

82. How fast can you type?

VERY.

83. How fast can you run?

Also VERY.

84. What color is your hair?

Dark.

85. What color is your eyes?

I looked in a mirror for a minute. I think it’s either grey, green, or brown?

86. What are you allergic to?

Pollen and bullets.

87. Do you keep a journal?

No.

88. What do your parents do?

My Dad makes food at the mall.

89. Do you like your age?

I wish I had all the benefits of adulthood but was still 17.

90. What makes you angry?

People acting stupid when they should know better, things not working when they should, and things going wrong when they shouldn’t. While not my intention in answering this question, this site has all three :^)

91. Do you like your own name?

My given name is pretty okay. I really like Renardie though.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

I am not having children.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

Three times I have said I’m not having children.

94. What are you strengths?

Imagination, expression, intellect, and pluck.

95. What are your weaknesses?

Procrastination, anxiety, and obsession.

96. How did you get your name?

For my given name, I’ll keep it brief for privacy’s sake, but my parents are comic book nerds. For Renardie, I’m simply a fan of Reynard the Fox.

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

My Dad’s a King in the figurative sense, does that count?

98. Do you have any scars?

This is a repeat question. Someone get OP’s ass.

99. Color of your bedspread?

Off-color baby blue.

100. Color of your room?

White.