#nothing beats the chaos of driving home for thanksgiving
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12:21 am. someone has given my sister the aux cord. she is playing life is a highway.
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"That was a bad plan."
Thank you. I didn’t know if you wanted a specific character so I included all I write for which was fun.
AU Bill Skarsgard
You snuck into the theater as the commercials were still running easy enough. Bill just wanted a normal date night with dinner and a movie. He didn’t even care what movie as long as he could sit with you alone in the dark. Funhouse was not sold out, so you went to see it.
Bill chuckled at his Brother’s character. You slapped his arm a few times and buried your head in his should shielding your eyes from the screen other times.
“He would like to think he is a big ass social media personality.” Bill whispered to you.
“Shush, I am watching this.” You shook your head. “Oh, shit, fuck...” Your jaw dropped towards the end of the movie. “They didn’t?”
“Hell, yeah and that was the best part.” Bill looked around. He knew other movies would be letting out and he didn’t want the autograph hounds to start. You never make dinner reservation he made at your favorite restaurant. They always put you at a nice secluded table. “Okay, the plan is to go out the emergency exit so no one can see us. I will call Chester to meet us with the car there.”
You nod thinking he knows the best way to do these things. After all he had to learn something from his Father taking him places. And he dealt with this sort of situation his whole life. Bill had a baseball cap to put on to hide as the other theater going passed. You snuck to the exit after everyone else had left.
As soon as he opened the door an alarm went off. The reporters and others ran around the Building. Flashes from cameras started blinding you both. Bill tried to shield you from the chaos.
“Did you like your Brother’s movie, Bill?”
“Bill, Bill, over here for a picture of you and your girl.”
“What is your name Miss?”
“Is this your first date?”
“Kiss for the camera.”
Chester started pushing people out of the way and opened the back door of the Lexus. Bill pushed you in the car as quick as he could before getting in himself. Chester sped off towards the restaurant.
“I’m sorry Babe.” Bill pulled you onto his lap and you clung to him from fear they would all follow. "That was a bad plan."
Mickey
“Okay, this plan is going to be quick and easy Babe.” Mickey was nervous but he was trying not to show it. He started working on the locked door. “The bag of cocaine is in the closet right inside the door. We do this and we get $200 to help get us to Florida. I promise it will be easy peasy.”
“Okay, Mickey.” You darted your eyes around to make sure no one was coming or could see you.
“Got it.” Mickey opened the door.
You both looked around at the plush surrounding. The white carpet spread across the entry way down a few steps to the sunken living room. You walked inside with your mouth wide open in awe.
Mickey looked behind the door. There was no closet. You took the steps into the living room plopping down on the crimson chaise lounge. “This is the shit, Mick.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fucking closet?” Mickey chewed his nail for a second trying to ‘think like a closet’ was his exact thought. “If you were a closet, where would you be?”
You look up at him puzzled. Your nose crinkled. One eye quints shut and the other open as you thought about his question seriously. “If I was a closet...” You stood up. “I’d be behind the door.”
“Great thinking Babe.” Mickey praised. “But I checked there.”
“Damn.” You looked around at the cream-colored walls filled with family photos. “Maybe the kitchen or the hall?”
“That is fucking awsome Babe.” He grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. You went for his belt. “Woe, we do this and we will be fucking on a beach in Florida in no time but right now just, we have to find the bag.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry.” You sighed.
He grabbed your face kissing you again. “Don’t ever be sorry about that shit. That’s love.”
He went to the Kitchen and you went to hallway. Mickey found the closet with the bag. Just as he was saying, “I found it.” You came running out. “Run!” He hears the barking of the Doberman dogs as he took your hand and ran for the car. The bag in his hand. One of the dogs ripped his baggy pants as Mickey was getting in the car. He slammed the door on it and it yelped running away. He felt bad he had to hurt the dog. You were in the car before either of them got you.
“Are you okay, Mickey?” You panted.
“Yeah.” He laid back against the seat trying to catch his breath also. He started the car. "That was a bad plan."
“It wasn’t easy peasy.” You answered.
MARK
“I have a Thanksgiving Day plan so we can have it with both our families.” Mark sounded excited over the possibility of being with a lot of people again. “If you are cool with it and it works, we can get together with friends for a Christmas Party.”
“Mark, I don’t think being around people right now in any capacity is safe.” You sighed deeply because you hated to shut down another one of his ideas before even hearing it. “Rona numbers have tripled. This town is on lock down. We might be fine if we got it, but we would be devastated if one of our parents died because we miss hugging people.” You hoped this wouldn’t turn into a fight.
“No one is saying anything about hugging, Babe.” He held his phone out to you. “Just look at these.”
He showed you an advertisement for personal Bubbles. It was a giant inflatable bubble that was all around you other than your legs stuck out so you could walk. You started laughing hysterically. Mark furrowed his eyebrows pouting.
“It is not perfect but we could interact with each other freely.”
“It is thanksgiving.” You try to stop laughing. “How would we eat together?”
Mark shrugs.
You shake your head. “That was a bad plan. Maybe we can come up with something better to see the families."
Willard
“Why would you join this fighting, Willard?” You asked as you held his hand in the emergency room.
You had walked in on a huge fight happening at his workplace after hours. Willard looked like he was losing until you screamed for him and the fighter made some smart-ass sexual comment about you. That through Willard’s murderous tendencies into over-drive.
He beat the guy to a bloody pulp three times worse than the guy had beat him. Willard was in need of more medical care than the local doctor could handle. So, it was an ambulance for one fighter and a hearse for the other.
“I wanted to buy you that pretty dress you were lookin’ at in the store window the other day.” Willard mumbled with a mouth full of cotton to sop up the blood in his mouth. “Them church girls ain’t half as pretty as you are darlin’. You deserve the finer things.”
She shook her head. “"That was a bad plan. I need you more than I need some fancy dress for church. God don’t care what we wear as long as we praise him, right."
“Yeah, I reckon your right.”
Axel
“Come over here Babygirl.” Axel grinned licking his plump lips which always got you excited. He stood in front of his mustang with his arms folding know you would do anything he asked without question.
You sauntered over to him. Eyes on his as you bit at the corner of your bottom lip which you knew got his motor running. “What’s the plan, Big Daddy.”
“I got a big plan for you little girl.” he hummed as he grabbed his package with both hands through his cargo pants.
As soon as you were close enough, he picked you up to put on the front of car like an ornament. You wrapped your legs right around his waist. He kept his eyes on you as he glided his hands up under your short pink skirt. Thumbs tuck into the sides of your panties.
“You going to unwrap yourself so I can get these off or you want me to try to fuck you through or around them?” He smirked.
You lean back on the palms of your hand and unwrap your legs. Axel pulls off your pants, pushed you up and gets on the car over you. “I’m going to fucking ruin you on this masterpiece of a sports car.”
“Do it.” You challenged.
He plunged into your pussy fast and strong. You barely had time to breath correctly as you wrapped around him. Your hips pounded into his as you gasped. He growled as he plowed you. You forced him to roll to try take some control back. He loved when you fought for that control. As He grabbed your hair about to have you back on your back once again you rolled off the car onto the concrete.
Axel was able to keep his head up, but it knocked the wind out of him. He could not speak. His eyes were wide open. You landed on top of him so other than a severe scare you were fine. Your connection lost in the fall.
As soon as you could catch your breath you laid your hand on his face. “Axel, Axel, are you hurt.”
“"That was a bad plan." He groaned
Roman Godfrey
Roman came home from a ridiculously difficult day at work. He expected you to be waiting in his favorite little dress with nothing under it and a fresh glass filled with fresh blood from the bank. What he got was you with your knees to your chest sitting on the couch pouting.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He grabbed a blood bag from the refrigerator and drank straight from it like the uncivilized monster he felt like he was anyway.
“You didn’t call me or text me or video chat me all day.” You whined.
“Oh, so I have a busy ass day and you think you can get away with being a brat when I get home?” He tossed the bag in the trash before walking over to her to glare down menacingly. “Is this your plan?”
“Yes.” You said defiantly.
"That was a bad plan." He picked you up tossing you over his shoulder. He smirked when he saw you had no panties on under his t-shirt. “Daddy is going to have to fuck the brat right out of you.” He slapped your ass.
You yelped but had a huge grin on your face. You knew this is what he really needed after his day. This is exactly what you both needed.
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Thanksgiving, 10 Years later
Dean doesn’t die, and 10 years down the road, plans a Thanksgiving to beat all Thanksgivings.
He wakes up with a gasp when his alarm goes off, and the radio starts to play the song that still haunts his nightmares.
Sam Winchester fumbles as he slams the alarm off, and looks around at the room around him, rubbing his eyes.
No terrible motel room wallpaper.
No funky smell.
No Dean lacing up his boots with a “rise and shine, Sammy!”
But it’s not the bunker, either, which…
Makes sense.
Sam’s been married for eight years, and while the bunker still works for storage and a place to stay if a hunt goes too late, it’s not ideal for his wife and son.
Eileen pokes her head into the room, signing quickly. “You okay? You look freaked out.”
He nods, rubbing his eyes again, signing back as he talks. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just- bad dream. Dreamed Dean died.”
Eileen gives him a sympathetic look, walking over to sit on the bed and kiss him tenderly. “Dean’s fine,” she tells him, singing slowly so he gets every word. “He’s been planning this big Thanksgiving for months. We’re going to his house tonight. Sleeping over for the big day.”
Sam takes a breath and gathers his wife in his arms, holding her tightly.
“It’s okay, Sam,” she says out loud. “Everything’s okay.” She signs again. “I’m here. Nate is downstairs, having breakfast.”
Nathan, their five-year-old son. Energetic and funny; smart and intuitive. Looks a whole lot like his mom.
Sam grins and holds her tighter.
*****
Dean wakes with a start, rubbing his eyes hard and shaking out his head quickly. The bedroom is still dark, and he realized that everyone has let him sleep in today.
Which is ridiculous, because they’ve got one more sleep to Thanksgiving, and there’s tons to do.
He slides out of bed and hobbles to the bathroom. He gets stiff now that he’s officially getting older. All those old hunting injuries have really caught up with him, but he still does okay, keeping up with a nine-year-old daughter and four-year-old son pretty damn well.
To say nothing of his spry, tiny wife.
Oh yeah. And the Angel that lives in the guestroom.
He takes a leak, brushes his teeth and cleans up, grabbing his robe on the way out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
When he turns the corner to the kitchen, it’s to find everyone already eating breakfast.
“How come nobody woke me up?” he asks, dropping kisses on both the kids’ heads.
“Because you needed rest,” Castiel explains, as he hands him a cup of coffee. “You’ve been working on this Thanksgiving event around the clock. You were tired.”
“As usual, your angel is right,” Miranda tells him, pecking Dean on the lips. “You needed sleep. You’re too stressed.”
Dean rolls his eyes a little as he sips his coffee, and then winks at Ramona, the nine-year-old eating her cereal at the kitchen island.
She giggles into her bowlm and Dean grins widely.
“What’s the schedule for today?” Dean asks, looking at the chalkboard hanging up next to the fridge. “We got Sam and Eileen and Nate comin’ in tonight. And today, we make all the pies for tomorrow.”
“We only need three,” Miranda reminds him.
“Four,” Dean corrects her.
“Jody is bringing a pie, we do not need five pies,” Miranda says.
Dean huffs. “The five of us, Sam, Eileen and Nate, Donna, Jody and Claire. That’s eleven people. We definitely need six pies.”
“When did we get to six?” Castiel asks, confused.
“Just now,” Dean tells them. “We’re doin’ pumpkin, sweet potato, pecan, apple, and - Babe-” he turns Miranda. “Your best-ever strawberry rhubarb?”
“I cannot believe I’m going to say yes to this,” Miranda huffs.
“I like pie!” Jamie says happily as he eats oatmeal, his chubby four-year-old fingers gripping his spoon. “I like pie a lot. I eat a whole pie.”
Dean grins proudly and turns to Miranda. “Nice to know I’ll never need a paternity test.”
“For that little jab, you can sleep in Castiel’s room tonight, you,” Miranda tells him jokingly.
The kids giggles and Dean shakes his head.
“Okay, okay,” he tells them. “Enough with the yucks. Finish your breakfast and then it’s time to get ready for school.”
Jamie lights up. “We’re gonna make hand turkeys at preschool today! I don’t know what that means but I’m excited!”
“It means they’re gonna turn your hand into a turkey and then carve it up and serve it to the rest of the class,” Ramona tells him.
Jamie gasps, eyes wide and shocked. “Whoa. Coooool.”
“I don’t think that’s correct,” Castiel says warily. “It seems unlikely. Humans generally avoid cannibalism.”
“What’s Cadibadism?” Jamie asks curiously.
“Cannibalism, Dude,” Dean tells him. “It’s when a human eats other people.”
Jamie thinks about that for a moment. “Like this?” he asks, leaning in and biting his sister on the arm.
She yelps and smacks him with a stop. “No! Bad!”
“Jamie,” Miranda scolds. “No biting!”
“I assume there’s more seasoning in cannibalism,” Castiel says thoughtfully.
Miranda sighs heavily. “They are definitely your children.”
*****
Sam pulls the car up to Dean’s house and sighs, relieved to be done with the long drive from Chicago to Kansas. Ten hours in the car with a five-year-old is tough, but doable with a few stretch and potty breaks.
Eileen smiles at him. “Ready?”
He nods and takes a breath, signing. “Ready.” He glances back at the little boy in the backseat, looking at his picture books. “What do you says, Nate? Ready?”
“One more page,” Nate tells him without looking up.
Sam sighs heavily and signs to Eileen. “He’s got one more page.”
She snorts and turns around in her seat, signing to their son. “Save the rest for later. We need to go inside.”
Nate huffs and nods, signing back. “Okay, Mom.”
It’s not long before the three of them are heading up the front steps of the house with their bags and before Sam can ring the bell, the door swings open, revealing his older brother, looking excited to see them.
“Hey! There they are!” Dean booms, reaching down to scoop up Nate and toss him into the air, much to the little boy’s excitement.
“Hi, Uncle Dean,” Nate says.
“Hey, buddy,” Dean grins. “Good drive?”
“I peed in Cedar Rapids, Iowa!” Nate brags.
“That’s awesome,” Dean tells him, nodding in approval before setting him down. “Jamie’s in the living room, go say hi.” He turns back and hugs Eileen, before pulling back and signing clumsily. “Good to see you.”
She beams at him and kisses his cheek. “Thanks Dean,” she signs back. “You, too.”
“Miranda’s in the office if you wanna go say hey.”
Eileen grins as she steps further into the house, and it’s finally Sam’s turn.
“There he is,” Dean says proudly. “Professor Winchester. How’s it goin, college boy?”
Sam rolls his eyes and they hug tightly, Dean patting him on the back.
“You look good, Dean,” Sam tells him. “Like the kids are actually letting you sleep for five minutes.”
“Things are good,” Dean confirms. “Kids are doing great. Miranda’s awesome. Cas is good.”
“That’s great,” Sam grins. “Still enjoying being a stay-at-home dad?”
“It’s still awesome,” Dean confirms as they walk through the house and into the kitchen, where Dean grabs them a couple of beers.
Five pies sit on the kitchen island, cooling off, and Sam has to shake his head. “We don’t need this much pie.”
“Bite your tongue,” Dean snaps. “We always need this much pie.”
“Where’s Cas?” Sam asks.
“He needed a break,” Dean tells him as they take a seat. “Been a lot of chaos around here with my planning and the kids being...well...kids. So he’s takin’ the night off from us.”
They crack their beers open, both of them taking a sip.
“I had this weird dream,” Sam says, trying to smile at his brother. “I-it was so strange. So real. I just- I didn’t know what to make of it.”
Dean nods slowly, looking at his beer. ‘Yeah, I had one of those too. Lemme guess: I die on a routine vamp hunt?”
“Yeah,” Sam says slowly. “If we both had it, what do you think it means?”
“No idea,” Dean admits. “Somethin’ maybe to ask Cas when he gets back. Maybe he can ping Jack. See if there’s somethin’ up.”
Sam nods, still feeling worried. “I don’t wanna get dragged back in.”
“Me neither,” Dean tells him quietly. “But I guess we’ll see.”
“I guess,” Sam agrees. He huffs out a soft breath and glances at the pies, doing a double take. “Did-did you convince Miranda to make a strawberry rhubarb pie for your demented Thanksgiving plans?”
“Damn right I did,” Dean grins proudly. “That woman can make a summer pie like nobody’s business.”
“I can’t believe she married you.”
Dean laughs. “Me, neither, man.”
#Dean Winchester#Sam Winchester#Castiel#Eileen Leahy#Miranda Tyler#Ramona Winchester#Jamie Winchester#Nate Winchester#fic#au#OC's#Poly-bi Dean is my favorite Dean because he gets to have his cake and eat it too#what finale?#I don't know her#spn#supernatural
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FFT: dancing around an open fire; adam page
Notes:
This is the second part to second one to know and this was originally sent to me by @kyleoreillysknee on my writing blog, snarkandsarcasmwrites. Just moving it to it’s own post on here so that it’s easier to access.
Summary:
Adam and Giselle are at her parents house and things are finally starting to come out. Fluuuuuuf, holy wow the fluff. part 2 of 2.
Pairing:
Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Giselle
Warning:
Uhm... None?
Her parent’s cabin came into view and Giselle took a deep breath in desperate attempt to center herself and prepare herself for what lie ahead. If she knew anything about her mother it was that her mother was most likely going to have a thousand questions -and judgements, that she dumped on her before Giselle even got the word hey out of her mouth.
Adam sensed her tension and he placed his hand over the top of hers. “It’s okay. If I see it’s gettin to be too much, we can go for a drive or somethin.”
“Y-yeah.” Giselle stared intently at the cabin and swallowed hard. “ Thank you.. Again.. For coming with me.”
It was only the fourth or fifth time she’d thanked him in the past hour. He smiled and shrugged it off as if it were nothing. As they pulled to a stop behind a beat up old Bronco next to a grand old oak with a tire swing strung from it, Adam checked his phone.
Naturally, Kenny took it upon himself to check in. He chuckled and read his friends text.
Adam bit his lip and fired off a text back.
– > I’m probably gonna be scarce a few days.
– > I kinda went back to her family’s place with her for the holidays.
–> I know, okay? And yeah.. Maybe me goin back with her is doing that.
– > wish me luck?
He shoved the phone into his pocket, killing the engine just as the door to the cabin was thrust open and an older woman stood in it, pointing a wooden spoon towards the trees.
“Get out there. All of ya. I swear I can’t get a damn thing done without you lot stickin your little hands in all my cookin.” the woman laughed and smiled, waving excitedly as she caught sight of the car sitting behind her late husband’s Bronco.
“Giselle? That you girl?”
Giselle swallowed hard and glanced over at Adam. “ Did I mention they were… a little crazy?” she bit her lip as she met his intent gaze. Adam chuckled and reminded her calmly, “Hey. It’s gonna be fine. I promise. You don’t have to keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Apologizing for every little thing. I’m..” he almost said that he wasn’t the asshole she’d just broken up with, but he went with “I’m perfectly fine with you exactly the way you are.” instead. The smile on her face was more than worth it when he did.
It clicked for him a little. She may not hear that a whole lot, she definitely hadn’t from Sean, if any of the stories she told him and the rest of their friends were anything to go by.
Just the thought of why she probably did that so much had him gripping the wheel. Giselle took a deep breath and opened her door, Adam doing the same, making his way around the car to fall into step beside her.
Her mother, to her surprise, didn’t do what she’d been thinking she’d do. She just pulled her into a hug before nodding to Adam as the hug broke with one of those knowing grins. “He’s the one you’re always hanging around with. The one you talk about a lot.” her mother turned to Adam and pulled the man into a hug.
“Adam, right?”
Adam chuckled and smiled as he nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
Giselle almost reached out to feel her mother for a temperature, because honestly, she’d been expecting a thousand questions and even more hints at ‘potential blind dates’ during the incoming week.
She found herself pressing against Adam as they followed her mother into the cabin. “Well that was weird.”
“What, darlin?”“Figured she’d start off by tellin me all about how she knew Sean was no good, then segue that into her, tryin to pawn me off on the pastor’s grandson or somethin like she did at Thanksgiving when Sean stood me up.. That was awkward, by the way, when she did it.”
Adam chuckled and yeah, maybe in the spirit of just being around her and feeling happier because of it, he leaned in and whispered against her ear, “Maybe I’m kind of a lucky charm then, darlin.”
Giselle’s breath caught in her throat at the way he leaned in - and more importantly, the way it made her feel when he did, and for a second, her mouth opened and closed because it had been… Flirtier than he tended to be.
… I have to be imagining it…
“Maybe you are.” she finally managed to get the words out, leaning into him a little as she did so. She toyed with the front of his tee shirt and stared up at him and he swallowed hard, staring right back down at her.
They sprang apart when Giselle’s mother called out to her from the kitchen.
“And here we go. I knew I spoke too soon. If I’m not back in ten minutes, Adam… Please.. Come drag me away.”
“Gladly.” he promised, chuckling to himself as she skipped down the hallway.
The second she was in the kitchen, her mother turned to her and smiled.
“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my mama?” Giselle teased gently. Her mother sighed and then told her quietly, “ I like that one a lot better than Sean. Sean wasn’t..”
Giselle braced herself, tensing. Rather than hold back, she gave a sad sigh and shook her head, meeting her mother’s gaze as she let it all pour out.
“Are you sure you don’t mean I wasn’t good enough for him? Because sometimes that’s how it feels. I mean you stay on my ass. If it’s not about my job, it’s about having a little fun now and then, or about when I’m going to make you a grandma… I just… I don’t know I can do anything to make you happy with me or proud of me.”
Her mother was staring at her, a confused look on her face. And then what Giselle was saying hit her and she sighed and shook her head, pulling her into a hug.
“It ain’t that at all. I just worry about you. If anything, Giselle, Sean wasn’t even close to good enough for you. When I said you were gonna mess up what you had with him last month it was because I thought that was what you wanted. I can’t even begin to tell ya how happy I was when you told me what happened last night. Everything else is just because I worry. You know your daddy died chasin his own dream.. I know what you do is dangerous. Just scares me.”
“Oh, mama..” Giselle hugged her mother back and then reminded her quietly, “Daddy died because he was drinkin and got behind the wheel. Not because of bull riding.”
“But he was on the way to a rodeo.”
Giselle nodded. “His own bad choice is what caused it though. Is that why you got so upset when I left to go audition with AEW?”
“A little, yeah.. Then you not ever bein home. It’s already enough that Madison lives all the way over in Georgia and I only get to see her and the kids at holidays.”
“Speaking of.. I didn’t see Brody and Maddi’s camper?”
“She’s been stayin here since Thanksgiving. After y’all had that fight and you put him on his ass, he took off. Hasn’t bothered callin or anything.”
Giselle sighed and shook her head, grabbing some dough, kneading it into a ball. “I’m sorry. I just thought… I mean you and Maddi have always been closer and I’ve just never really said anything but it bothered me.”
“I know, baby. I just let you be because you were always my big girl. Smarter and more able to fend for yourself when you got to that age.. I realized what you thought and I went overboard tryin to make up.”
“Yeah, you kinda did.” Giselle laughed, holding out the baking sheet lined with biscuits to her mother. “It’s okay though. As much as I whined about it, it kinda felt good.. Except that whole disaster with the pastor’s grandson.”
Her mother laughed and then nodded to the doorway. “ This one.. I have a feelin about him.”
“Mama, no.. He doesn’t see me that way. I.. believe me. That man knows the walking cluster of chaos I am.”
“You didn’t see what I did when he was standin by you on our porch just now, either. Just.. Open your eyes, yeah? Because sometimes, what you really want is standin right in front of you.”
Giselle laughed and shook her head as she raised the lid on the pot simmering on the stove. She groaned as the smell of chicken and dumplings hit her nose and she fanned the lid, calling out to Adam, “Hey! Hangman! C’mere a minute.”
Adam tore his eyes off all the old photos of her lining the hallway, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen. “I didn’t know you rode, darlin?”
“This one had two loves growin up.. Well three if you count fightin and givin me gray hairs.. Rodeo and wrestling. Her daddy used to call her the son he never had.”
Giselle blushed, shuffling her feet. “I actually have horses out in the barn.. And a bull but I don’t think you’d wanna try him. Son of a bitch is the whole reason I spent a good chunk of my summer senior year in a cast.” she grimaced and Adam chuckled, sniffing the air as he stepped over to the stove. Giselle held a spoon up to his mouth, laughing when he took a bite and flinched because it was too hot.
“You have to blow it first, ya crazy! Good lord.” she took the spoon back, blowing on it until the steam wasn’t rising into the air visibly and then she raised it to his mouth again.
Adam groaned and swallowed, staring at the pot. “ Don’t let me go crazy.”
“ It’s every person for themselves.. This is if there is any left after my sister’s little hellions get done, of course. Those kids are like walkin bottomless pits.”
Adam chuckled. She turned and swallowed hard as her eyes fixed on him and she realized just how close they stood. Giselle saw her mom wink as she hurried out of the kitchen, calling out, “Going outside. Those hellions are bein entirely too quiet.”
Neither one of them were backing away. Adam reached out and grabbed the spoon from where it sat on the counter and he pressed into her a little as he reached for the pot, raising the lid. He chuckled as he looked at Giselle and told her through a mouth full, “Might not be the kids you have to worry about eating all of this.”
Giselle nodded and bit her lip, eyes locked on the spoon.
This urge to just grab him by the jaw and kiss him popped up and took her completely by surprise.
“Everything went okay, right?”
“Surprisingly, yeah. I think my mama and I got a lot straight just then.”
“That’s great. I told you maybe if you tried talking to her..” Adam leaned in, dragging his thumb over her lower lip, some of the gravy from the chicken and dumplings was right in the center and he tried to resist wiping it away, but he couldn’t.
He raised his thumb to his mouth, passing it slowly between his lips, giving another groan as he did so.
The way there seemed to be a double meaning in the action had Giselle blushing and wondering where all these sudden little thoughts and urges were coming from. She took a shaky breath and nodded to the pot, making a joke to take the edge off on her end.
“Do I need to leave you alone with that pot, Adam?”
“Not at all, darlin.” Adam was still holding her gaze. He swallowed hard when she moved in just a little closer, raising to her tiptoes to wipe her own thumb across his lip, giggling as she told him, “Yeah, I still say you’re the only other person I know who is as messy as I am when it comes to eating.”
Adam’s lip quivered at the touch and he gripped her hip. He was just about to lean down and brush hair out of her eyes, but the screen door banged shut and three little boys rushed in, a little girl hot on their tail, arguing.
The two sprang apart and Giselle took a few deep breaths. Because despite knowing that what she wanted to do was probably not a good idea, especially not right now, she’d been about to just do it.
She’d been about to pull him down and kiss him until neither of them could breathe.
“Well? You two gonna just stand there all day or are you gonna go wash up for supper?” Giselle’s mother cut through the lingering heavy tension with her question and the two of them hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs to Giselle’s old room.
Adam leaned in the doorway, eyes darting around as he chuckled. “I knew it!”
“Knew what?” Giselle peeked in from the door that connected the bathroom to her bedroom.
“You like pink. You’re always sayin you don’t, but I knew.. Somehow, I knew. You liked pink.” he picked up a stuffed cow, turning it over in his hands as he snickered and added, “And stuffed animals.”
“Oh kiss my ass, Page.”
… oh… that’s not the part I wanna kiss at all… he had the thought but he tried to shove it out of his head. He walked over to the door she’d peeked out of and right as he was about to grab the handle, she opened it from the other side. He joked with a laugh, “We have got to stop meetin in doorways like this, darlin.. People are gonna start talkin.”
“And?” almost as soon as she said it, she felt her cheeks get hot all over again.
Had she seriously just tried flirting with her best friend?
And why did it seem to feel so very right?
She walked her fingers up the front of his tee shirt and nodded to the bathroom. “You need to wash those hands. My mama checks, trust me.”
“Oh she does, huh?” Adam found himself reaching out and toying with one of her curls, despite his best efforts not to. She stepped closer, nodding. Adam stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
He took a few deep breaths. He’d severely underestimated himself here. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know about her. The more hard it became to stop himself from just going for it; despite how bad an idea that might seem.
She’d just broken up with her ex. She didn’t need him putting his own wants first, especially not right now. He washed his hands and splashed some water on his face, stepping out of the bathroom and into her bedroom to find her sitting on her bed, staring at a photo in her hands, deep in thought.
Adam nodded to the photo and after jumping in surprise, Giselle explained quietly, “My dad.” as she held it out to show him.
… you kind of remind me of him… just… a whole lot more confident in yourself and settled and down to earth… maybe that’s why I’ve always kind of been afraid of this unknown way you make me feel. Maybe my mama is right. Maybe all this time I’ve been picking all the wrong ones because I was too scared to try picking the right one..
“Oh.” - the thought that Sean might have actually been right in his outright jealousy towards Adam in the past had her floored.
“Oh?” Adam echoed, staring at her intently, trying to gauge her mood at present but having a hard time because she seemed to be deep in her own mind. Her head snapped up and she bit her lip, taking back the photo that he held out to her, placing it on her nightstand by the bed. He sank down to sit next to her. “Is everything alright, Ele? You know if you’re feelin bad about..” he trailed off at the shaking of her head.
“It’s not that at all. This.. It’s a good thing? I just.. I have to think first.”
Adam nodded. It was literally all he could do. Beyond his next question to her, “Any chance you’re gonna tell me what’s goin on?”
Her answer only made that little sliver of hope he felt start to grow in leaps and bounds as she stood on her tiptoes, fluffed his hair and stared up at him, nodding her head. “As soon as I figure out how..”
“Y’all gonna come down and eat?”
“We better go down or my sister and her kiddos are gonna eat all the food.”
Adam zipped past her and down the stairs, Giselle hot on his heels, both of them sinking into the only two seats left at the table. They made faces at each other to crack each other up quietly through the whole blessing and as it finished, they started grabbing food from all the pots, plates and dishes piled in front of them on the middle of the table.
At one point, she kind of… Leaned into his side when she was talking to her sister about a fight that she’d apparently had with her sister’s ex and Adam chuckled in amusement, listening to a recount of the whole thing with one of the nephews tapping at his arm.
“My aunt really likes you a lot. She acts like my girlfriend at school when she’s around me.”
“Oh yeah, kid?”
“Mhm. She’s always touchin ya or leanin real close.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” Adam chuckled as he took a sip of the tea beside his plate.
XXX
“ Yikes. Mama really hasn’t been burning off any of the limbs that fell during that big storm, has she?” Giselle peered through the window and out into the backyard. Her sister leaned in and giggling, she nodded towards the living room across the hall, where Adam was being swarmed with kids, holding the little girl of the group on his knee.
“Angel don’t take well to strangers. But then again, you didn’t ever. And Adam seems to know you like the back of his hand..” her sister was quick to point out. “And you’re always around him on the road, always talking about him when you call to talk to me or Mama.”
Giselle had to say something. She couldn’t just keep what she was starting to think in relation to what her sister said, to herself. It was too big, now that she was really starting to realize just how she felt.
She shut the door and leaned against it so none of the kids could barge in and overhear then go back and repeat before she got the chance to tell Adam for herself.
Something she planned to do soon.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I just.. I need you to listen.”
“Okay?”
“I think… Oh hell, forget think.. Pretty sure that I’ve been in love with Adam for a while now and like… I’m kind of starting to realize exactly why Sean was always such a dick about the amount of time I spent with Adam before… I just… What if it’s only me? What if I tell him and he laughs his ass off?”
“Oh, I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about that.. Are you planning on telling him?”
“Duh. Life’s too short to just like… Bury it or whatever.”
Not to mention, Giselle thought to herself, even if I wanted to forget.. I just have this feeling that it wouldn’t be easily done.
“You know… you could start a fire.”
“What the…” Giselle trailed off as her eyes lit on the growing pile of limbs and leaves out back of her mom’s house. She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “But then the kids..”
“Hon, I can wrangle them. You just take the matches and that jug of gas on the back porch and go.. I’ll even make hot cocoa for you two.”
Giselle eyed her sister and her sister gave a wink. “You’re happy. I’m gonna do everything in my power to make this work. Besides, he’s so much better for you than that colossal pain in the dick Sean.”
She mulled it over a few seconds and took a deep breath. “Okay, yeah. Why not?”
“ Tonight’s perfect for it, I mean.. It’s all chilly out, that means you two can get all cozy.”
“The worst that can happen is that he tells me he’s just interested in being my friend. If I do it now, instead of waiting, I won’t have the risk of making the rest of the week really awkward too, so there’s that…” Giselle nodded and she stepped out into the hallway, leaning in the doorway of the living room.
“Hey, Adam… Feel like helping me build a bonfire out back?”
Adam looked up from what he’d been watching on tv and when he saw that look in her eyes again, it felt like the breath got knocked right out of him. He smiled and stood, nodding. “Yeah.”
He followed her out the door and on their way out, Giselle’s sister held out a bottle of Jameson. “That oughta keep y’all warm and cozy until I make the cocoa.”
Giselle swallowed hard as her gaze met Adam’s and she took the bottle, twisting off the top and taking a sip, almost instantly recoiling. “Holy shit, I forgot about the kick behind that stuff.”
Adam took the bottle, taking a few sips. “Hey, I can pull the car around, right? So we can use the headlights for light.”
Giselle nodded and found her keys in the pocket of her jacket, holding them out to him. Adam took the keys, going out to where they’d parked the car earlier and pulling it over near where they wanted to build the fire. Giselle was already dragging limbs and sticks and leaves, shimmying her hips at the song playing on an old radio she’d apparently plugged in on their back porch. Adam sat on the hood, watching her and chuckling.
He stood and made his way over to her, grabbing the end of a particularly heavy limb. Giselle looked back and smiled.
One of her real smiles. Not one of the ones he’d seen far too many of lately.
She turned to him and held out the match after she’d poured gas over the pile. “Thought maybe you’d wanna… Light it up?”
His hand curled around the hand she clutched the matches in and when he realized that she was migrating closer, he nodded, staring down at her lips a few seconds.
Giselle licked her lips, stepping even closer. “The fire..”
“Yeah, I’ll light it.” Adam chuckled, stepping away. When he glanced back up at her, she was pouting a little. He wandered back over and she leaned against his side. He was staring at the fire, but he could feel her staring, so he looked down at her.
“This is nice.”
“It really is.” Giselle held out the bottle to Adam and he declined. She raised it to her lips again, trying to will herself to just go for it already.
She’d said it best earlier when she said life was too short not to go for what she actually wanted for a change, stop settling for whatever random thing or person caught her eye.
But being right and going for it were… Two totally different things.
They started to play an older song on the country station the radio was tuned into and before Adam stopped himself, he asked quietly, “Wanna dance?”
“Yeah.”
Adam pulled her close and put his arms around her, humming the lyrics to the song quietly. Giselle tilted her face up and stared at him, biting her lip. The hand on his shoulder dug in just a little as she tried to work up her nerve. She pressed completely against him and Adam barely stopped himself from gasping quietly, nose pressed into her hair.
“Ele?”
“Yeah?” her voice came out in a quiet whisper as her mouth brushed right against his once she looked up at him again. Adam gripped hold of her hips, mumbling “I gotta do something, I can’t just..” into her mouth as his own crashed against it hungrily. She gripped his tee shirt and the hand at his shoulders ventured up, fingers tangling in the ends of his hair, making him groan quietly. When her tongue slipped between his lips, he opened up a little more, allowing her tongue complete access as he slid his hands down lower, squeezing her ass and sliding her up his body.
“Me either, I…” Giselle’s words were a breathless whisper as her eyes fluttered open when the kiss broke for a few seconds, just to stare at him. “I realized earlier that I’m kind of an idiot.”
“No, no.. Shh.”
“I am though. I mean it’s been you, this entire time and I was just too afraid to do something.” Giselle admitted, waiting on him to say something. Adam grinned, pulling her mouth back against his as his fingers tangled in the ends of her hair after he sat back against the hood of the car, her legs wrapped around him.
The crackle of the fire behind them had him chuckling, pressing his forehead to hers. “Was that why you wanted to come out and burn a bonfire?”
“It was. I was… trying to figure out a way to tell you that wasn’t me just awkwardly blurting it out.. Why, did you like the idea?”
“I did. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go for a ride or somethin, I just.. Hell, I’d try but I couldn’t ever do it. Didn’t wanna push or anything, considering last night….”
“Truthfully? I was actually relieved when all that played out. And it really made me stop and think..”
“Oh yeah?”
“I want you.”
“Oh you do, hm?” Adam pulled her closer, hands raking through her hair as he told her quietly, “That can be arranged, darlin.. I think you’ve had me for a while now, honestly.”
#adam hangman page fanfiction#adam hangman page fanfic#adam hangman page fic#adam hangman page oneshot#adam hangman page imagine#// part 2 of 2.
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Lost Souls: Story 2
The Tower (part 1)
Summary: Merlin awakens early from his sleep. He decides that he doesn’t want to leaving anything to chance and kidnaps the young James Lake Jr. to began training his Trollhunter as early as possible.
Barbara is determined to hunt down the man who kidnapped her son. In her efforts to get her son back she finds a strange old radio that speaks to her in a woman’s voice. The radio leads her to an underground society of shapeshifters.
Mother and son meet again years later as strangers on opposing sides.
AO3 - Fanfiction
(Note: Jim is six in this chapter.)
~~~~
“I want to go home.”
Jim’s demand fell flat against the stone walls and dusty shelves of the room. The man who claimed he was Merlin didn’t respond; he just kept scribbling away on his roll of yellowed paper. Every once in a while he would glance at one of the many books on the table. Jim wasn’t sure if he was ignoring him or had just not heard.
“I’m leaving,” Jim announced.
No response. Jim carefully started moving toward the ornate wooden door that he was fairly certain led outside. “Merlin” was still scribbling away. He put his hand on doorknob, it was cold. He glanced back. Still nothing. Jim’s heart was beating fast as he eased open the door and slipped through.
He closed it quickly behind him and squirmed excitedly. He was out! It was far easier than he had expected.
He looked around trying to figure out where he was. The door was on one side of him and on the other was a dark tunnel, lit in places by glowing green stones. Jim eyed them with wide eyes.
Toby would have liked them. Jim had met him a year ago just before his birthday and they were now best friends. He had even shown Jim his special rock collection. Jim drifted toward one of the low-hanging green crystals but stopped. Mom said stealing wasn’t good.
He was already being bad by disobeying an grown-up and running away.
Jim frowned, hesitating by the door; he really shouldn’t be doing this, but he didn’t think Merlin was a good person. Mom had warned him that there were bad people and that he shouldn’t go with them or do what they said. Though he wasn’t sure if that applied in this situation since he hadn’t gone with Merlin: he had just woken up here... What if Mom had left him with Merlin like she used to with Gramma sometimes?
But she always told him when she was going to that. And she always said goodbye. Not like Dad…
He shook his head hard to get rid of that thought before turning away from the door. Mom wouldn’t abandon him and he didn’t want to be here anymore. He would find his way home. If he was wrong Mom would forgive him.
The tunnel was dark and cold. Every once in a while it would spit in two. The growing crystals stopped being interesting and cool and started feeling creepy. Their eerie light bothered his eyes. Jim found himself getting more and more confused. He wasn’t even sure how to get back to the door. He let out a quiet whimper.
Maybe if he went just a little farther…
He rounded the corner and found himself in front of a very familiar door. He was back where he started.
Jim frowned. That was strange…
He decided to try again. And again. And again…
When Jim found himself at the wooden door yet again, he felt his face crumple. He sniffed a few times and a tear trickled down his cheek. What was he doing wrong? Frustrated and lonely, he curled up beside the door and started crying.
He had been there for a while, and was starting to get cold, when the door opened. Warm yellow light spilled out, partially blocked by a tall silhouette. He peeked out from behind his hands to see Merlin staring down at him.
“Come back inside, boy. If you stay out in the caves you’ll catch cold.”
Jim glared up at him for a moment. A shiver ran through him, causing him to wrap his arms around his skinny frame. Despite that he refused to get up. He didn’t want to go back there, he wanted to go home.
He didn’t get much of a choice. He let out a yelp as he was lifted up and carried, struggling, back inside.
Once they were back in, and the door was closed, Merlin wrapped him in a large thick blanket, set him in a chair, and handed him a cup of something warm. Coco he realized. He held it in his hands but didn’t drink it, choosing instead to glare at Merlin as the man settled into the chair across from him.
“How long will I be here?” Jim asked.
No response.
“Why am I here?”
“I told you: I’m training you.”
“Why?” Jim asked, frustrated.
He had said something like that when Jim had first woken up here. That Jim had an important destiny that he had to prepare him for.
But Jim knew training was like teaching. He went to school for teaching and they let him go home each day. The teacher, Miss Crumbstead, didn’t ignore him either. She answered his questions and would give him and the other kids fun things to play with and draw. Merlin didn’t do any of these things.
He didn’t think Merlin was going to answer but to his surprise the old man looked up. He set down his pen and put his hands together in front of him. Jim straightened uncomfortably under his gaze.
“I wanted to wait a while longer to talk to you about this but I suppose you need some explanation before you can settle in.”
His blue-grey eyes were intense as he studied Jim carefully before he sighed and a tired sort of look formed on his face, like the one Mom had when she had told Jim Dad wouldn’t be coming home for Thanksgiving. He rose from his chair and went over to one of the shelves, shuffling around for a moment, before he came back and set a small yellow crystal down between them.
“There is great evil in this world,” Merlin started.
He rested his hand on the crystal and it flickered and released blast of yellow light. Jim shielded his eyes. When he put his hand down, he saw that the light was forming into shapes: huge beings with horns and armor and fangs. He ducked down behind the back of his chair, watching them fearfully.
“One such evil took the form of the Gumm-Gumms. They were a vicious group of trolls that ate humans and wreaked havoc… hurt other trolls that didn’t agree with them.”
Jim covered his eyes, shaking. He didn’t want to see this.
“In order to protect the humans and drive them back. I created a magical amulet that would choose a champion and gift them with great power.”
Jim peeked through his fingers and saw the image had shifted to a different, less scary, one of the horned creatures. It held a glowing disk in its hands. Its lips moved as if it was saying something and a suit of armor materialized around it.
“Thus started the line of Trollhunters,” Merlin said, a slight smile briefly appearing on his face.
He circled around the table to stand beside Jim and set a hand on his shoulder. Jim shifted uncomfortably but let it stay as he watched the images fade away.
“But what… why am I here?”
“You are destined to be the next Trollhunter,” Merlin stated.
Jim turned around to stare at him in surprise.
“Me?” He squeaked.
Merlin nodded.
“Indeed.” He took a step away, clasping his hands behind his back and turning away from Jim. “I saw it in a vision. You were able to finally defeat two of the greatest evils the world has known.”
He paused.
“Or rather will. But not before damage was done.”
He set another crystal next to the yellow one, a blue one this time. He tapped them together and whispered words that Jim couldn’t understand.
They flared for a moment and then cast out a red light. Jim jumped as the shapes of the Gumm-Gumms reformed. This time in Arcadia! There were people fleeing for their lives. Destruction and chaos was everywhere. Jim’s breathing quickened to the point he was rapidly becoming light headed.
Merlin picked up crystals and the image vanished. Jim stared up at him with wide eyes. The wizard’s expression was solemn. He knelt down to Jim’s level.
“That is why I brought you here,” He said gently, holding Jim’s gaze with his own. “To start training you early so this time when the time comes you will be ready to do what you need to.”
“C… Can’t.. Couldn’t someone else do it? I… I’m not big or strong… or… or…”
Merlin shook his head.
“I’ve studied many futures,” He said firmly.
His hand brushed over the crystal again. Images flickered by quicker than Jim could truly take them in, but slow enough that he could see the destruction and devastation.
“…You must be the Trollhunter, it is the only way.”
Jim was quivering. He started to wrap his arms around himself, but Merlin gently pulled them back down.
“But what about Mom?” He whimpered.
He couldn’t leave her. He didn’t want to, but especially not after seeing how badly it had hurt her when Dad left had left them.
“Can’t she stay here too?”
Merlin sighed and looked away.
“I’m afraid not,” He said. “Being Trollhunter is dangerous. If your enemies know who you care about they will try to hurt them. Do you really want to bring her into that?”
Jim thought about the evil man-eating trolls and shook his head weakly. He didn’t want Mom to get hurt. Before he could say anything else, Merlin continued.
“You can see her eventually, once you’re strong enough, but for now I need you to focus on your training. Will you do that?”
Jim hesitated, this was big and scary, but if he didn’t…
“Okay.”
Merlin smiled and patted his head.
“I knew you would make the right decision.”
~~~~
~~~~
Author Notes:
The next chapter will be Barbara's first interaction with Morgana. I was going to have it be part of this chapter, but it was being stubborn and I'm impatient. There's also a time jump, so I think it probably works better this way.
Also writing from a kid's perspective is tricky and I would welcome any critiques.
This story will be alternating between the past and present (events that will be taking place after Jim and Barbara's interactions in the first chapter) I will be showing that with tenses. Events happening in the present will be chronological, while events in the past will jump around a bit. It's a bit of a style experiment for me so I'd love to hear what you think!
#Tales of Arcadia#Trollhunters#Trollhunters Fanfiction#Jim lake jr#James lake Jr#Merlin#TOA Merlin#Child Champion AU#manipulation of a child#manipulation#kidnapping#Trollhunters AUs#My AUs#My Writing#my post#Lost Souls
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Serendipity (C.B) | Chapter 16
Summary: Serendipity: (n) the chance occurrence of events in a beneficial way
Popular youtuber Isabella Hart, known as Bella to her audience, bends over backwards to separate her youtube life from her private life. Known for her overall clean content and her bubbly attitude, Isabella has a wild side to her that only those inside the youtube community know about. When Bella meets Colby during one of the trap house parties she finally meets someone she can be her genuine self with. When trouble arises after their meeting, will Bella be able to hand the pressure or will she destroy her relationship with Colby as well as herself in the process. [This starts in 2018]
Written: 2019
Word Count: 2,944
Warnings: swearing
Serendipity Masterlist
I knock on Corey and Devyn's door. I wait a few seconds until Devyn opened the door. She looks around and then looks at me.
"Can we talk in private for a second?" I ask. Devyn and I hang out all the time. I don't know why I'm nervous about talking to her. Maybe it's because Colby doesn't know I'm here yet and I also wanted to surprise him. Devyn lets me in and closes the door behind me.
"What do you need? Help with a prank?" Devyn sits on her bed and pats a spot for me to sit.
"Well, I'm not going to be here long. I just wanted to know if you were going to be busy in 2 weeks? And in two days, but two weeks is more important."
"Oh? I'm free, why?"
"How would you like a makeup job? I have a super-secret project going on and I need a make up artist."
"I mean, I'll definitely need more details but yeah. I'll do it."
"Okay, I can tell you. But you can't tell anyone, not even our boyfriends. Literally, nobody knows except the people who are working on this project."
"My lips are sealed. Now spill!"
"So, basically, after these past few months, I decided that I'm going to go back to the whole social media thing. This time I'm going to actually post things I actually care about and not act online anymore. I've known about this for weeks, that's why I haven't been around lately. I've been meeting with managers and planning content and the new set up of my brand. I even a few more secret projects lined up."
"Spit out this big project!"
"Fine. As you know, I sing. So my first video back is going to be a whole music video. It's for a song I wrote, so that's exciting. I'm going to need three main looks that are going to be used in the video. Two of the looks you're going to be replicating both sides of me that have been seen by the media and the third is me now. They're versions of me that have been born from this chaos. My new manager just wants to get you in so you can sign some contracts and all that."
"Actually, I love it. I have so many ideas already. We can..."
Devyn and I talk until Corey comes home. I take my leave and decided to hang out with Colby in his room. I feel bad for hiding my whole youtube comeback from him. Devyn is the first person from the group that I've told. I want to tell everyone else but I have a whole video planned where I surprise everyone individually and get their reactions. I have a big plan to reveal my comeback to a lot of people.
I've kept this secret for the past few weeks. I spent days wondering what to do with my life. I could go back to normal schooling next semester and keep my head down until I graduated and then get a normal job. But the idea of that didn't sound fun. I wanted the excitement that I had when I first started youtube and began getting popular. The buzz I once had when I created content that I once loved. The buzz I get from doing music. I'm still going to do normal videos, but I'm going to start doing things that I like. All last week was busy with me meeting potential managers that were willing to take me on and planning the music video.
I plan to have a party where I invite all of my closest friends and reveal the video to them, just as it's uploaded on my youtube channel. Get everyone's raw and honest reactions. It's scary and nerve-racking, but it will hopefully work out in the end.
****
Devyn and I sit in the back of an uber driving back from the last day of the music video shoot. It's Friday night and after a week of waking up early and getting home late, I just want to sleep until the big party reveal. But I have a mini reveal that I have to get out of the way. For the last of the three looks, my team and I decided to go all out. Not only did we cut my hair, but we also dyed it pink. A dark pink that will hopefully fade over time. Devyn also suggested that we shave a line into my left eyebrow. The look is complete with a fake lip ring and my first tattoo. Besides cutting my hair and having a fake piercing, these are all things that I wanted to do but couldn't without fear of ruining my reputation. I never wanted to cut my hair, but after all of this, I felt like I needed a change. Of course, I planned this change for after Thanksgiving where I went to meet Colby's parents for the first time. I couldn't have my first interaction with his parents be a total shit storm, which it wasn't
Other than Devyn, I didn't tell anyone that this was happening. Because I'm planning on uploading a behind the scenes video, I thought it would be best to also get everyone's reactions on camera. It doesn't look bad. Strangely, it feels like I've always looked like this. Like there was never a change. I'm only nervous about how Colby will react to the new me. The general public may not like it, but they hate me so much already so what's new. Colby, on the other hand, is the person I love most in the world and his opinion matters to me.
We pull up in front of the house and all my nerves are suddenly gone, or maybe they're hidden. We get out of the car and walk into the house. I let Devyn go in first so she could set up the camera. Devyn made up an excuse for us that she is practicing new makeup looks on me. And because I'm on a hiatus, I gave her my camera to use for the time being. So every night she brings in the camera and sets it up in the same place so that nobody gets suspicious. This has been a long elaborate plan, but in two weeks, everything should be back to normal.
After a few minutes, I walk casually and wait until everyone notices. The first two that see me are Kat and Colby. Kat's first instinct is to scream, which causes everyone to look up.
"What the fuck is going on? Am I high? Baby, pinch me." Corey sticks his arm out at Devyn for her to pinch.
"Holy crap, I didn't recognize you for a second. I thought a fan broke in or something." Aaron says.
"That is definitely not how you looked when you left this morning. Is this real?"
"I think Kat and Colby are influencing you too much, Isabella."
"I can't do anything about the tattoo, but I can't tell if you guys like the hair or not. I can fix the color but the length is going to be like this for a while."
"No, baby, it's fine. It's great! What, uh, inspired this new you?" Colby's face has this slight scrunch to it. It's not noticeable to the naked eye, but people who actually know Colby can tell. He absolutely hates it.
"Just wanted to try something new. Anyway, I'm beat from today so I'm just going to go to bed. Night everyone."
I run upstairs before anyone can say something. If it wasn't for the fact that I was so tired I would just go home. I'm not upset. I couldn't care less about Colby not liking the several changes I've made to myself. If anything, I'm annoyed. I'm not annoyed that he didn't like it. I'm annoyed that he lied about liking it for my benefit. It's been a while since the whole 'me almost dying in a momentary lapse of judgment' situation and I thought we were past Colby treading lightly around me.
I have a new system to get through life. One that doesn't rely on Colby, because I can't always go to him every time shit hits the fan. The first step was to sit down and find a therapist. Might as well get some professional help to get everything in order. Then, I decided to work on making sure that if something were to happen to me, my family would get nothing. It felt weird to write a will considering that I'm only 19. And because I am no longer part of the family, I started the process of changing my last name. I decided just to use my middle name, Rose, as my last name. My good grandmother's name was Rose and her middle name was Jane. I just filled out the paperwork to officially become Isabella Jane Rose or Isabella Rose. The last step in me getting better was to change physically. Hence the rose tattoo and the short pink hair. Something felt off about all of these changing happening around and to me but still staring back at the version of me that I didn't want to be any more in the mirror. I got the tattoo because I've always wanted one and I got it in memory of my grandmother. The pink hair was the random part. I knew that I was going to cut it. But this morning while I was in hair and makeup I made a last-minute decision that I now love.
****
I managed to get all the makeup fast enough just crawl into bed. If it had taken longer than five minutes I would just give up and go to bed. While trying to go to sleep I hear the door open slowly and then shut quietly. I hear Colby carefully trying to move in the dark.
"You can turn the light on, I'm not asleep yet." After a few seconds of hearing Colby struggle in the dark, he manages to turn on the lights.
"Sorry, I know you're tired. I was just going to join you. Do you have to be up early again?" Colby changes out of his clothes and puts on a pair of shorts.
"No, I can start sleeping in again." I roll over to face Colby as he climbs into bed.
"So I finally get you all to myself? I don't mean to complain but I only saw you when it was time to sleep and when you left in the morning."
"Yeah, we can spend time together. I need your help planning a party. And bout the whole only seeing me at night and in the morning thing, think of it as practice for when we start living together. I mean, It's not going to be like that every day but there are going to be times like that. I'm going to have to get used to you leaving me to go do stupid demon chasing shit or doing illegal things."
"First of all," Colby props up his head in his hand, "we're not doing 'stupid demon chasing shit.' We're just going around and seeing what happens with these things."
"You call purposely going to super haunted places and actively doing things to store spirits and demons up 'just going around to see what happens?' That mentality is going to get you guys in some serious trouble. All I'm saying is that when we move in together, you do all of that stuff outside our apartment. Go do it at Sam's or Jake's place.
"Deal, I promise to keep the scary ghost and demon stuff out of our apartment. Now, what's this you say about a party?"
****
Unlike the guys, my parties are a lot tamer. I made the event exclusive. Only those who I am actually close to and who are my friends are invited. Basically, anyone who didn't turn on me before the big leak and I was friendly with before it happened were invited. Which is still a lot of people but not the normal amount of people that guys are used to destroying their house. I asked everyone if I could borrow the house for one night. My apartment is too small and renting space would be too big. The trap house was the only place that was perfect enough. They didn't even have to help me set up. I made the food and brought the drinks. Well, I bought the nonalcoholic drinks. Colby bought the liquor to avoid me getting into trouble.
Kat, Devyn, Xepher, Tori, and I got ready in Corey and Devyn's room. Tori was added to our little group a few weeks ago, we've been inviting her to hang out with us so she feels welcomed. After we finished getting ready we all went to set up a bit more. The guys set up the backyard, despite it being one of the rare days where it's cold in California.
I wanted to have a kickback. My circle of people when all hell broke loose was pretty much just the trap house. To everyone else I actually was dead. So I planned this even to Cath up and get back into the swing of things. While on my break both Colby and I avoided parties and events that were very crowded. It wasn't too bad considering there was a week where we were in Kansas for Thanksgiving. I can use this time to catch up with everyone as well as make my huge announcement that I'm rejoining team internet. And with Christmas around the corner, we decided to have a kind of small Christmas party.
"Corey, you better not be eating the dip I made!" I yell from the kitchen. Sam, Aaron, Kat, Devyn and I are currently in the kitchen cooking and making snacks. We had to kick out Colby, Corey, and Jake for simply causing trouble.
"I'm not! It's falling into my mouth and it would be a waste to just spit it out." I finish cooking the mac and cheese and put it in a food warmer before walking into the living room. Colby is sitting on the couch on his phone while Jake and Corey hover over the chips and dip.
"Really?" Colby throws his hands up in defense.
"Hey, I tried to tell them."
"It's a good thing that I know you guys and put out the store-bought dip first and hid the one I made."
"No wonder it tastes so good." Jake mumbles. I smack him on the back of the head. I turn the music on and head back in the kitchen to see how everything is going.
A few minutes later people start coming and the party started. I organize the presents for the white elephant event that's going to happen near the end of the party. I socialize and catch up with Kian, JC, and Chelsea. I talk to David and talk him out of leaving early and promise him something fun will happen. I'm hoping something will happen, if not I might have to do something crazy for his vlog later just to make up for it. As everyone is eating I go and stand up on a free space on the couch. To get everyone's attention I turn off the music and use a megaphone that David had in his car.
"Hey guys, I just wanted to say a few things. I'll try to make this as short and painless as possible. So, as we all know, I've been going through a rough patch in the past few months. And I know that some people here were worried about me, which is why I decided to throw this party. Just to let you know that all is good in the neighborhood. So good in fact that I have a surprise that some of you will like and some of you may not. Just consider this, dinner and a show." The lights turn off and the small projector turns on and plays my music video.
While everyone watches I step out into the kitchen where I go and quickly change all my profile pictures and profile banners. The video was scheduled to go out at this exact moment so I don't have to do anything there. The video was sent to me early this morning and I watched it then. I send out a quick tweet and an Instagram photo before shutting off my phone for the rest of the night. When the video is over, I walk back into the living room.
"I know, I'm sorry for making you watch my music video. I honestly didn't know another way to say that I'M BACK, BABY! Which means, yes David, you can do whatever mean horrible prank you can possibly think of. Ki, J, you can make me do a ridiculous challenge video with horrible consequences. No, Sam and Colby, I will not do a scary exploring video with you but I will do literally anything else. And overall, because I know the guys are going to go back to throwing insane parties, we can all party together like we used to! So you guys can go back to eating and talking, that's all I had to say. Also, we'll do the white elephant in about half an hour so get your cameras ready because there is some vlogable content in there."
I hop off the couch and go sit next to Colby and continue to enjoy the rest of the party.
#colby#colby brock#colby fanfic#colby fan fic#colby fan fiction#colby fanfiction#colby brock fanfic#colby brock fan fic#colby brock fan fiction#colby brock fanfiction
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You’ve Only Just Arrived - Part 80.5
So it’s been - wow. Quite a while since I updated. Apologies all around on that front. Thankfully things have sort of fallen into place, at least writing wise. Without further rambling, as we all know I’m prone to do if given the opportunity, here’s another installment from Tom’s POV.
Previously in YOJA: The end of the year was spectacularly memorable, but in ways he hadn't planned. Thanksgiving was - well, a mess. And rather than leveling out in the days and then weeks that followed, things seemed to spiral further. The New Year held promise. A fresh start. Except his night out dancing was interrupted in the most unexpected way. A frantic call from Ben. Ben who had invited them all to a party - one that Tom had voluntarily declined in favor of other friends, and starting the year anew. Being off the market was so last year. Dating. Thinking of marriage. Starting a life with... with someone he'll see in a few days' time, for the first time since The Worst Holiday he's ever experienced.
[Since it’s been so long - Catch up {or refresh yourself} on YOJA here!]
Part 80.5
To his mind the room is but half dressed. They’ve gotten started with the draping and décor but are nowhere near the end result. It’ll steal away breath when they’re done, and when properly lit. At the moment the entirety of the room is fully illuminated, and most of those within it bustling about, racing to beat the deadline. In a few days’ time it’ll be drastically different, though the pacing oddly similar.
Attire, certainly, will be a noticeable difference. No jeans and jumpers. Tuxes and evening gowns as far as the eye can see. Many of those currently scurrying around will be entirely hidden from view, back to their behind the scenes work. The stage will be set, the lighting and sound perfected to be just so – and the production team alternatively blurting out orders or praying that their drills, their efforts in the days prior to the big night weren’t in vain. No mishaps. No wardrobe malfunctions or sound blackouts bringing the program to a temporary halt, everyone ultimately keeping to their allotted time, though all involved knowing that the show will inevitably run long.
His own role is easy enough. Wait here. Step onto the stage there. Walk to the mark just there, and though there’ll be a teleprompter he won’t really need to read the words. He’ll know them, by then. He just needs to deliver his short speech and keep his attention forward, on the designated camera. Anywhere, anything but allowing his focus to drift to the table that seems to be centered at his designated podium.
He hadn’t spotted it right out. It was only after being asked to stand at the podium for a moment so they could make adjustments that he let his gaze drop from the teleprompter to study the assigned seating at the tables closest to him. But there she sits – or, at least – there she will sit, a few nights hence.
Tom tries to lift his eyes away from her chair, away from her table again, tries to settle his focus on the teleprompter until he is asked to continue, but with little success. If he similarly fails on the night of the show he’ll undoubtedly hone in on her. When faced with the real thing? Now he’s only caught staring at her likeness upon a page.
Her chair is off to the right of the table. His eyes flit quickly around it's circumference, counting the chairs, trying to make a game of it. Maybe if he distracts himself with other things. Maths. If he can just keep his brain occupied elsewhere. But no. He can’t make a pleasant blur of the room. He swallows, a little miserable that his heart seems to stutter through its practiced rhythm from simple proximity to a photograph of her.
It’s because of what that means. Another sleep, or two, and she’ll be seated there, looking up at him. And he – he’ll be –
Reading from the teleprompter like a good boy. And trying not to throw the evening into chaos because he can’t get his personal life under control.
It’s not like he hasn’t heard the mutterings. Like he didn’t have it ‘kindly’ brought to his attention that she’d declined presenting this year – something that had raised eyebrows for going against tradition. Particularly, they’d said, because she was still planning on attending. Usually, they’d said, when one sited a previous obligation as a reason to decline their role in the pomp and circumstance it meant they were then also absent from the night itself.
As though he could possibly control what she had decided to do, or not do.
Tom pushes his hands deeper into his pockets, waiting – no, pleading for direction to break him from his train of thought. Except they’re still busy tinkering and talking amongst themselves.
He snuffs out a short breath through his nose, studying the curve of the back of her chair. He hardly counts himself as surprised that she’s still attending. They’d planned on coming to this event together. And her stubbornness once she sets her mind to a thing…
Pot. Kettle.
There she is again. Her voice in his head. His lips almost tip into a sad smile as his eyes drop from the tip of her chair to study the facsimile of her face. He catches the action, twitching his mouth and altering his face back to the calm expression he’d previously held.
Can’t be caught mooning or casting some sort of face at the photo of his ex.
Can’t.
Won’t.
There are other mutterings. Other things stage whispered at his back. The claim that she had declined the opportunity to present simply because he was, and she didn’t want to be trapped backstage, or potentially paired with him on stage. That she didn’t want to be spotlighted and squirming for ratings, with all those watching witnessing the ex-couple’s discomfort for sport. No stopping the rumor mill. And no denying the potential for such a thing to occur, though he’d love to believe otherwise.
Again his eyes flit around her assigned table, his focus moving purposefully from chair to chair as he takes note of who she’ll be seated with. His own table is – he sweeps his gaze across the room to pinpoint his table, his jacket and a few odd belongings stowed in his chair while these finer details are ironed out. Then it’s on to the next thing, the next stop, the next job that will keep him occupied until his return to this very room.
It’s curious that neither Matt nor Andrew are seated at her table. He can’t now recall, for the life of him, if they’d been listed as confirmed attendees? But does it really matter? Does it? It… well, since he’d been made aware that she had come and gone – set foot in London and then disappeared almost as quickly, back to the set of the Touring Sundays sequel as production moved forward in Spain…
Yes.
Simply put, yes.
He’d been waiting, in the days that followed her brief stay in London, for anything to happen. If he was kidding himself he’d site the moment she ran into his family at the park – or maybe her quiet meeting with his mother – but definitely since that panicked phone call from Ben. Yes, he’d been waiting for something to surface in the media, or - and he readily admits how unlikely it is - for some sort of contact from her.
The biggest, latest, Hollywood scandal had held everyone’s attention through the New Year, it seemed. There had been no blurb of speculation about the pair of Touring Sundays stars and how they spent their holidays. No detailed articles, or any painting a picture with broad strokes, stirring the pot regarding her time spent in London. No accompanying photos or selective shots of her trip - or anything that gave him any inkling as to what had happened New Years Eve to drive her from the company of friends without giving anyone notice.
No random fan encounters.
Nothing.
Tom shifts on his feet, pulling a hand from his pocket to force his glasses back up his nose with a quick tip of his finger before trying, and failing, to focus elsewhere in the room again. The EXIT sign? The many of them that dot the perimeter of the room and bring him full circle back to her table. His belongings, still safely stowed. Aaand the span of tables between his, and hers - his gaze met by her smiling face, again.
Had it been foolish to scan the faces of the other New Years Eve revelers that night? On the street outside the club? Yes. And foolish, too, to study the gait of his fellow commuters as he walked down the streets towards home after that phone call, looking for one that struck him as familiar? Yes, again. Clearly, yes. So then it follows that it was also foolish to have habitually checked his phone for follow up messages, or new alerts, and to peek out the window in the time that followed. Right up until Ben had called back in the wee hours of the morning with the news that she was ok. That …
And damn it if Ben hadn’t sounded surprised that he’d want to get an update? After the texts and then that frantic call asking if he’d seen her? That they'd lost her, and .... What kind of man did Ben think him to be? Except – maybe, maybe it wasn’t that he’d sounded surprised. Now that he's thought a bit about it. Maybe after delivering the news that she was safe and sound with Matt and Laura again, maybe it was that Ben had been pleased, happy for the confirmation that his friend still cared enough to request a follow-up upon learning that his ex was out wandering the streets of London alone.
“Tom?”
Tom blinks, giving a start at the summons yanking him from his thoughts.
“Care to run through for us?”
Ah. Tom swivels his eyes up to note that the teleprompter has started to cycle from the start of his short speech. He gives a small shrug, along with a nod and an apologetic smile, “Yes. Right. Sorry. Drifted a bit.”
Drifted? A more appropriate admission would be that he’d steamrolled himself straight into his own private minefield and had been stomping through the area with reckless intent.
Up until that call from Ben, he’d all but sorted himself. Resigned himself, at any rate, to the fact that things had gotten so twisted and turned that there’d be no hope of finding a fix. His anger, his stubborn, stupid anger and ill born indignation that she’d kept so important a detail about her life from him was to blame. He’d all but decided that finding a way to live with the implosion of his world would just be the way of things.
Somehow his friends saw a different ending. His friends. And hers. And his family, too. In fact, most that knew them somehow seemed to all hold firmly to the belief that they’d survive this, that they’d find a way back to each other. He’d fumed at first. Felt with every fiber of his being that they simply didn't understand what had actually happened between them, and certainly didn't know either of them well enough to know the truth of things. But then - the more he dwelled on it.
That Ben thought to call him when he couldn’t find her.
The first of the few lines of his speech have already disappeared from the prompter, and Tom draws his eyebrows together into a light frown as he pushes to remember the correct phrasing and catch it back up. His mind wants a different path. It’ll be a path he’ll allow himself to explore later, after he’s been released and is once again wandering the streets of L.A. Until tonight, when his hotel room is mostly quiet, but his brain won’t stop buzzing. Until the night, a few days from now.
And then? Then it’ll be up to her.
So I know I talked about potentially starting to just post these chapters elsewhere and then providing a link with the taglist to be able to track updates. But I can’t give up the established format. At least not for this story, not yet. Clearly breaking out of a routine isn’t my strong suit... unless you consider going months without updating a story. Erm, I can only apologize and tell you that I have the best intentions! ❤ ❤ Here’s hoping everyone is still waiting to see what happens with this couple, even if I’ve dragged things out horribly.
Yes - it’s in black and white. Yes, I’ve just fed my own weakness/ made it worse. Sorry. Not sorry.
@ablondieproduction @annamegatron @antyc67 @aroundourhearts @taniasamhradh @calgal48 @cassandrajdenize @croftyspock90 @celtvix @cumberbabe92 @damageditem @evieplease @fanfickittycat @haeminhee @hallotom @ibrakefortomhiddleston @ilovetardis @im-the-colourless-sunshine @incoherentrambler @jessicahunnam @jhangelface0523 @jossisgod @kellarter @ldirkes @lokilockedcougar @lorrmorr @lovehiddles4everme @lucifersnudes @lucymegker @machuchuu @texmexdarling @mazda098 @missviolethunter @mssissypooh @nakittr @namaik-fuyu @nuvoleincielo @ourladybinxthings @purgat-ry @renastrife @sarabeth72 @shiseru @sweetsigyn @tarrysmith @thatsprobablynotahat @tinchentitri @tomforachange @twhiddlestonappreciation @wolfsmom1 @zoie-bitofahermit @wreckmy-journal @ubiquitous-corvids @welcometorealitysuperstar
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The Quarter Life Crisis
Well I don't really know what I'm doing so bare with me.
24 has been a HARD year. If you know me, you know that this year was by far the toughest year of my life. In fact, I actually think I cried more this year than I have all of the other years combined (go ahead and laugh).
MARCH
CORONA VIRRRRRRUSSS...
I should actually start with the dreaded break up.. or let go, I should say. We had been broken up but had been on and off in private. I had been hanging on to something I knew was not only bad for me but was never going to work. I had poured my heart into someone who was never going to pour back into me. My heart had never experience so much pain. No matter what I did or where I went, there was a piece of us there. It was a passing pick up, a song on the radio or just the smell in the air. I was frozen in time and I wasn’t getting over it.. I couldn’t eat, I couldn't sleep, I had no interest in any of the things that used to bring me happiness. Most every night for close to 3 months I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t feel like Taylor anymore, I was a stranger living in my own body.
We’ll call this part of 24, “sad girl hours”.
Fast forward to summer...
JULY
In July, my dad was consistently having chest pain. We found out he had severe blockage and would need to have surgery. After hours at the doctor’s they sent him home with nitro incase he had a heart-attack before scheduled surgery. I had been out with my friends that night but I was in bed early and I just remember hearing my moms footsteps running down the hallway, I already knew.
I remember frantically asking what I needed to do and just feeling my whole head rush, like everything around me was spinning and I was helpless. We got dad to the car and mom rushed him to the ER. I called two of my closest friends and they met me at the ER. When I pulled up they were already sitting there waiting. I got into the pick up and I lost all composure I was balling like a baby. It didn't take them long to wrap me up and tell me that they were here for me and that things were going to be okay.
Due to COVID, we were not allowed to enter the hospital so we went home. (the story might be altered a little here... if you know the whole night’s story please keep it to yourself).
I think it was around 4:30 when I finally made it back to my parents house and I was so exhausted but I couldn’t sleep. I sat in the living room wide awake, absolutely terrified for what tomorrow was going to bring.
Dad entered into surgery and had some complications and had to be in ICU for close to a month. I remember getting a call from mom and I was in sheer panic. I just kept thinking “HOW CAN THIS BE HAPPENING TO ME? Why did it have to be MY dad?” I was so angry and hurt inside. I drove to the First Baptist parking lot and I sat there and I prayed and I told God that if he could heal my dad I wouldn’t ever ask for anything again. I remember just feeling so lost and helpless.
I was trying to do the best I could to stay strong for mom. I did what I could at the house and tried to convince myself it was enough.
In all of the chaos my mom stood strong and never waivered, just like an oak tree. They don’t tell you that seeing your parents hurt, hurts you more than physically being hurt. I wouldn’t wish this kind of hurt on my worst enemy.
After a LONG road and what has felt like a million days.. dad is doing so much better. PRAISE THE LORD!!
I realized in all of this that I was never alone. I didn't make it through this by myself. I had my friends surrounding me and supporting me in the ways they knew how. For some it was a text, a phone call, or showing up just to drive around so that I wasn’t alone.
If you were one of these people, you know who you are...
From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU.
AUGUST
My grandpa had a heart attack.
SEPTEMBER
I started a new job teaching kindergarten at a new school with a new team.
Kinder is CRaZY!!
God sure knew what he was doing when he placed me at HP. I needed the spark for teaching to be re-lit within me. My team is wonderful and I feel like I finally found “my place”.
OCTOBER
One of my friends took his own life.
In October, I had a conversation with my old ag teacher who had called to let me know he had cancer. He told me he was so proud of me and we laughed about the things some of my friends and I did in class. I sat there and talked on the phone with him and couldn't help but drown in the thoughts that this man who had made HUGE impacts in not only my life but THOUSANDS of others, was sick.
I just kept asking myself “Why is everyone I love hurting? Why is God doing this to me?”
THE BIG “D” and the semi colon...
I got a tattoo on my wrist (sorry mom) as a daily reminder.
The tattoo reads “ ; hold on”
I would have never wanted something so “socially embarrassing” on my body a year ago.
It’s not embarrassing anymore... depression is a REAL thing and suicide is REAL.
I laid in the floor several nights during the summer and wondered if things were ever going to feel “normal” again.
Don’t worry... nothing last forever. Not even your sadness!
But I needed a visable reminder, on my body, where I could remind myself every. single. day.
The semi colon symbolizes the place where the author had the chance to stop, but merely paused. This is used as the symbol for suicide and depression awareness. The words hold on have many meanings for me.
Hold onto faith
Hold onto love
Hold onto the people who get you through
Hold onto self worth
Hold on... because better days are coming!
NOVEMBER
In November, my ag teacher passed away. I took off work to make the funeral but I got sick and I had to stay in Amarillo. I had taken two days off, but decided to go back since I was feeling better. I was on lunch break when I got on my phone to look at Facebook when I saw that one of my friends had been in a car accident and had passed away.
WHY WERE BAD THINGS HAPPENING TO GOOD PEOPLE?
I couldn’t make rash of anything in my life and I was, without a doubt angry at God.
I hit a LOW point in my life.
No amount of “I’m fine” was going to cover this up.
I really was lost as to how to get back to myself...
I went home for Thanksgiving break and well that was a disaster, I’ll leave it at that.
DECEMBER
I returned to work for the final weeks before Christmas break. I spent most of the days corralling Kindergarteners and wishing the days would pass faster.
Finally... CHRISTMAS BREAK.
I went home and found something I had been needing.
I got to hug my parents for the first time since JULY! ( yeah yeah, I’m still a little kid at heart)
I was able to rekindle a friendship with someone who I had gone separate ways from. Little did I know this was going to be the BEST thing to happen to me. We spent several days hanging out, singing at the tops of our lungs, laughing and making up for lost time. It was like we never missed a beat, we picked right back up where we had left off.
I am not certain of a lot, but I do know that God doesn’t make mistakes.
I needed this friendship and she did too.
I also needed my “Picture to Burn” singing partner back in my life and that's just what I got!
PS, you know who you are. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
JANUARY
Still CORONA VIRUS...
January I saw the neurologist. The doctors thought I had narcolepsy and that it was what was causing my excessive sleepiness and seizures.
I had to go to the hospital and have an MRI and an EEG to see if they could figure out what was going on.
LET ME TELL YOU I AM TERRIFIED OF SMALL SPACES... that brain MRI was enough trauma for me for a lifetime!
NOT MY CUP OF TEA, LOL.
FEBRUARY
I got my results back from the MRI and the EEG, everything was CLEAR. PRAISE JESUS!
I will still have to have a sleep study done but hey... a sleep disorder is way better than what we originally thought!
THE END OF 24
I turn 25 in 12 days... not quite sure I’m ready to accept that my twenties are halfway over.
24 WAS A LEARNING YEAR, the good and the bad.
I have learned a lot about myself. I am strong. I am independent. I am capable. I am loved. I am important. I make a difference. EVEN on the days I don’t feel that way.
I have friends and family who would move mountains for me.
I have a GOD who is unstoppable and faithful to his promises.
I have weathered the storms I thought I couldn’t and came out stronger.
I have doubted God in many moments of my life but I am certain that his plan is FAR greater than I could ever imagine.
So while 24 may have bruised and battered me, it did not break me.
CHEERS TO 25 YEARS, my friends.
Isaiah 43:2
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.
Psalm 34:17-20
When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all. He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken.
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30 Years of Genesis: Going 30 Years Playing No More Than 30 Minutes of Sonic
This summer marks the 30th anniversary of the launch of the Sega Genesis in North America. I had such a nostalgia trip reliving my memories of the GameBoy while crafting my recent GameBoy 30th Anniversary piece, that it only seemed fitting that Sega’s iconic 16-bit platform gets the same honors of recounting my memories with it. If you are looking for a more authoritative historical piece on it I recommend either Phoenix IV or Console Wars. The former is a strictly informative recounting of the history of the system while the latter is an entertaining retelling done in the form of a novel after days of interviews with everyone involved. The following are my own personal experiences of playing the Genesis over the past three decades.
I remember first encountering the Genesis while spending either Thanksgiving or Christmas 1991 over at my older sister and brother-in-law’s house. I was only eight at the time, and remember being perplexed at the black gaming box and the thought that there could somehow be other systems than the good ‘ol NES. I did not subscribe to any gaming magazines at this point and I think I was still about a year away from experiencing Sega’s deluge of combative commercials against the SNES. During that holiday season of ’91 I recalled playing the first Streets of Rage on the Genesis with my little brother nonstop the couple days we were there. I remember being blown away by how superior it was graphically to what I experienced with other NES brawlers before like Double Dragon. We only got up to the stage where we faced off against the dueling karate sisters who kept whooping us and neither my brother nor I had the skills at the time to get past.
The next year or two the only times I recall playing the Genesis were at my sister’s for the holidays or the occasional store kiosk. I remember my brother-in-law picked up other games we played regularly like ToeJam & Earl, Buster Douglas Boxing, Toxic Crusaders and PGA Tour Golf. I dug all of them, especially ToeJam & Earl where I had no idea what was happening half the time with its unorthodox level structure and item pick-ups, but loving the co-op gameplay, stylish graphics and its funky beats at the time. Brief memories of store kiosk play from the early 90s consisted of being horrible at the original Sonic the Hedgehog because it was too fast for my childhood noggin’ to comprehend. I also recall being confused at early editions of Madden Football at store kiosks because when I would press buttons to hike the ball ‘Audible’ would appear on screen and then eight or nine-year old Dale had no idea what that meant compared to easier pick up and play NES pigskin games I was conditioned to.
Until Christmas of 1995 I probably played no more than about 10 Genesis games all together. I was more aware of the system by that time thanks to reading magazines more regularly at that point and hearing from classmates who had the system, but until that point I was pretty loyal to my NES still (I did not get a SNES until late ’96). For the Christmas season of ’95 my best friend at the time who coincidentally lived three blocks away from me, Rich, received a Genesis and that was when I got a lot more hands-on time with its extensive library of titles. Rich and I shared a lot of similar game interests which at that time was a ton of sports games, fighters and action/brawlers.
For the next several months I was over at Rich’s for countless sleepovers and going nuts with fighters like Mortal Kombat II and Evander Holyfield’s Real Deal Boxing. Real Deal Boxing blew away Buster Douglas Boxing with more authentic boxing gameplay and an insanely thorough career mode where we would take a created boxer and move him up the ranks as champion until his skills gradually weakened with age to force his retirement. We absolutely ate up the sports games at that time. We played what seemed like an infinite amount of Madden NFL ‘97. A much wiser 13-year old Dale was no longer befuddled by the intricacies of Madden and we had so much fun with it. We would create many players to deck out our teams and keep running blitzes to try and injure the players because there was an intense bone-breaking injury sound effect that we ate up. It was like the equivalent of Favreau and Vaughn going nuts in Swingers when they made Gretzky bleed in NHLPA ‘93.
Mutant League Football was another favorite of ours that made that injury sound effect in Madden child’s play. EA also made MLF and it was the equivalent of NFL Blitz at the time with larger-than-life mutants and animals literally killing each other on the field with over-the-top hits. It was possible to force a team to retire due to killing off too many of its players which was always our desired objective! If you have not played its spiritual successor follow-up, Mutant Football League on PS4/XB1 I give it the highest of recommendations because it perfectly capture the sensation of the Genesis game while bringing it up to contemporary standards.
We also played a lot of EA’s violent driving game, Road Rash II. Being able to race motorcycles and knock out your competition with chains and nightclubs while trying to evade the cops seemed revolutionary when playing it for the first time! We later discovered EA’s take of Road Rash on rollerblades in the awesome rollerblade stunt/racing game Skitchin’! Fun fact about Skitchin’ is that the competitors you race against have gnarly nicknames like ‘Thrasher’ and ‘Jackal’ and thus in ’96 was the origin of how I came up with what wound up as my online handle but at the time was my radical Skitchin’ username, ‘Gruel’ to blend in with the rest of the pack and have stuck with it all these years later!
After spending several months devouring a good dozen or so Genesis games with Rich, it did not compare to the summer of ’96 when Rich signed up for the Sega Channel! I remember it launched in 1994 and seeing commercials for it at the time where it seemed too good to be true where for about $15/month would net the user a Genesis cartridge that would connect to a cable line and get the Genesis online streaming access to a rotating 40-50 Genesis games a month. That is right, decades before services like OnLive and Playstation Now, the Genesis did streaming gaming back in ’94 and it worked like a charm! Check out this pristine archival footage of the menus to see how it all worked. Sega Channel essentially was what Xbox Game Pass is today, and I am surprised to hear how little it is discussed when people reminisce about the Genesis.
We discovered so many new games this way and for that entire summer I was over at Rich’s about three to four days a week binging on Sega Channel games until Rich’s dad got on my case because I was over so often. I remember discovering new sports games on there like the innocuously titled Super Volleyball that we became somehow addicted to and the surprisingly awesome Tiny Toons ACME All-Stars that had its own killer spin on arcade basketball and soccer that it played like NBA Jam but filled with crazy Tiny Toons power-up attacks. Sega Channel is what additionally exposed me to co-op games like General Chaos, the Streets of Rage sequels and Gain Ground and classic single player games like Shadowrun, Comix Zone and Vectorman that Rich and I took turns trying to keep progressing through. Sega Channel also was my first exposure to the classic Bomberman franchise with many nail-biting rounds played of Mega Bomberman!
It came as no surprise to me when I finally bought a Genesis a few years later in 1999 that the first games I hunted down for it were those same games I first discovered on the Sega Channel! In April of 1999 shortly after I turned 16 I got my first after-school job and after a few paychecks I went to Wal-Mart to determine what should be one of the first games to buy on my own! This was around the time when Majesco re-released the third, mini-sized Genesis model at a discount price of around $30. I was legit stunned at that price for a brand new system, even if it was for a ten-year old platform at that time I could not help but instantly snatched it up!
If you read my GameBoy special from several weeks back you will recall my lamenting over its lackluster wrestling games compared to the superior ones on the 16-bit platforms. On Genesis, Rich and I played way too much Royal Rumble on the system. Other wrestling games I picked up for the Genesis over the years was the inferior predecessor to Royal Rumble in Super Wrestlemania. While I had a blast with Rumble way back when, it regrettably does not hold up well all these years later with its over-reliance on a button mashing grapple meter that obliterated thumbs that I have no idea how I tolerated at the time. Saturday Night Slam Masters was a unique wrestling game from Capcom. It is essentially Street Fighter II in a wrestling ring, complete with victory taunts, Mike Haggar from Final Fight in its roster and even has a few wrestling moves sprinkled in! I loved how they had over-the-top laser light entrances and larger-than-life character sprites at the time, and I recall enjoying the Genesis version more than the SNES. There was nothing else like it since, and on occasion I will still throw it in every couple of years. I continue to hope one day Capcom will release its sequel, Ring of Destruction in a random collection of arcade games because it never got a home port all these years later.
Sports games ruled on the Genesis! Pictured from clockwise at top left is Holyfield's Real Deal Boxing, NHLPA '93, Super Volleyball and Tiny Toon ACME All-Stars
I mentioned some of my favorite sports games for the system above, but it really needs to be emphasized how big sports games were on the Genesis. Both Sega and EA pumped out a seemingly endless line of sports titles for the system. I remember getting into silly speculation with Rich over how much extra memory that yellow tab on the EA carts allowed EA games to play better. For hoops titles I got my NBA Jam and Live fix on SNES, but on the ‘ol Genny my go-to basketball games were the oft-forgotten NCAA skinned version of Jam in College Hoops. I occasionally also threw in the hand-me-down street ball version of NBA Jam in Barkley Shut up Jam. I loved Madden, but Sega’s Joe Montana line of gridiron games were just a notch or two below too. For baseball, Sega’s World Series Baseball titles were in a league of its own when it came to gameplay and presentation with its larger-than-life hitter/batter perspective. For hockey EA’s NHL line was/is legendary! About four or five years ago my friend Derek gave me a ring to come over for some impromptu random gaming and he never played much Genesis before so when he got over I had the Genesis hooked up and laid out all my games for it and of that night we had the most fun playing a few rounds of NHL ‘94. At that point it was a 20-21 year old game and it still held up as one of the best hockey games of all time.
For brawlers I loved the Streets of Rage games, but I think it is my secret shame that I have yet to complete a single one. That must one day change! I did love the exclusive Genesis TMNT game, Hyperstone Heist! It was right up there with Turtles in Time and every couple of years my friend Matt and I make it a ritual to plow through that game. After many attempts we also conquered the Genesis port of the awesome arcade brawler, The Punisher! It does not have as friendly of a continue system as Hyperstone Heist so Matt and I had to learn to play a little more conservatively and not rely on mindless button mashing. It felt gratifying to have all that hard work pay off and beat The Punisher….until we got a copout ending screen of text saying ‘Now play like the Punisher and try hard difficulty.’ We did not, but I wound up looking up the ending several years later and at least Capcom made it worth your while because it had a far more intricate ending than many other brawlers at the time. The one Genesis brawler that always had our number was Captain America and the Avengers. It is a lot of fun to play, but it does not allow that many credits and by setting ourselves up with the max lives and continues that game was still a beast, and even playing conservatively and having so many attempts we only managed to make it to the final boss, The Red Skull, only once.
Let us fast track to about a little under 10 years ago when a co-worker approached me about being interested in buying his Genesis/Sega CD/32X along with a couple dozen games. He was saving up to pay off his upcoming wedding and he gave me a list of everything he had along with prices for everything he wanted going by what he saw off eBay auctions. I did some price researching of my own and made him an offer of around $250-ish for the ‘tower of power’ and about 20 games combined for all three systems. Looking back I accidentally lucked out with that offer because it was only a couple years later when 8/16-bit prices on the used market took a huge jump. I never had a must-have desire for a Sega CD or 32X, but there were always a couple of games I wanted to play on them that I eventually hunted down. I liked the versions of WWF RAW, Doom, Virtua Racer and especially Virtual Fighter the most out of my dozen 32X games. I recall as a then 10 and 11 year old being disgusted by early polygonal console games like Star Fox and Virtua Racer and was more on board with FMV games being the future, but remember being a little taken aback by Virtua Fighter indicating that there may be something to these 3D polygons. The 32X version is a surprisingly faithful version to its arcade counterpart.
I need to dive into my SegaCD games more one of these months. I hunted down all the must own titles for it like the Working Design RPGs, Shining Force CD, enhanced versions of Amazing Spider-Man and Batman Returns and Snatcher which I hope to one day knock off my gaming bucket list. Regrettably now my only SegaCD games I invested a decent amount of time into are WWF Rage in the Cage (essentially Super Wrestlemania but with some FMVs and a bigger roster), Slam City with Scottie Pippen (a abysmal FMV-based street hoops title) and the underrated SegaCD exclusive brawler, Prime. I am a huge Ultraverse comic nut and I ate up Prime on SegaCD since it was the only game released featuring characters from that comic book line before Marvel acquired them and cancelled all their books within a couple years (yes, I am still bitter over it). It is only one player, but Matt and I spent a few attempts taking turns at beating levels until we finally vanquished it. We even had an attempt thwarted when Prime was loading the final boss battle when a flipping blackout halted our progress! As memorable as that moment is I will instead forever associate Prime with its unrivaled and unforgettable opening theme music (seriously….give it a listen!).
I need to give a shoutout to the official handheld Genesis, aka the Nomad! My brother surprised the hell out of me one year with it for a birthday present. My favorite Nomad memory is my brother getting hyped for getting his own version of Genesis Shadowrun and I told him I would come over and bring my Nomad and my version while he played on his television and we could both start off our own new game and exchange tips and hints in a friendly rivalry type of way. I think my brother must have gotten the Genesis version of Shadowrun mixed up with the completely differently designed SNES version because he tried to run around aimlessly and gun down everything which is not how you want to play the Genesis version. We were planning that day out for weeks and I remember being stunned after about 15 minutes when I was starting to sink my teeth back into Shadowrun’s cyberpunk action-RPG brand of awesome when my brother out of nowhere went ‘screw this, let’s play something else!’
As I wind down I want to give many thanks to Sega for keeping the Genesis relevant throughout this century with its gratuitous re-releases of physical and digital collections. I have no idea why, but I keep on buying them for the convenience of having them for the latest system. It started with the Sega Smash Pack on DreamCast seeming like a killer value in 2001 for 12 games for $40. Then a few years later on PS2 I snatched up Sega Genesis Collection which seemed like an even better value with just over 30 games for $30! Then in the 360/PS3 era along came Sonic’s Ultimate Genesis Collection which offered 40 games for $30!! Sega also sold a lot of the games ala carte via each console’s digital storefronts. Then last year we got Sega Genesis Classics on Xbox One/PS4 with 50 games for $30!!! The last several years Sega also has been licensing out to At Games to release their own pre-programmed Genesis mini console with dozens of pre-installed games. I held off on getting those after hearing how awful its emulation and shoddy production quality is, but after hearing how Sega finally decided to manufacture their own Genesis Mini themselves this fall and handed off the emulation duties to the acclaimed emulation studio M2, I could not pre-order fast enough! I have no idea why I keep deep diving down this well, but hats off to Sega for keeping me coming back again and again!
Similarly with my GameBoy flashback piece, I had an unorthodox experience with the Genesis. I was not a hardcore Sonic or Phantasy Star player like the average Genesis owner. If you ask me any day of the week my answer to what my favorite Genesis game is, it could be either The Punisher, Madden NFL ‘97, Shadowrun, Hyperstone Heist, NHL ‘94 or Skitchin’. That is another thing that made the Genesis great was its mammoth library of diverse titles so there was no doubt something for everyone! With that I will put the kibosh on this look back of my favorite moments with the Genesis as I anxiously await for my pre-order of the Genesis Mini to arrive in a few months!
Want more Genesis Love from me in Audio and quasi-video form?
I was looking through my hard drive archives and a decade ago while I was still doing my videogame podcast, On Tap, we did a special 20th anniversary special on the Genesis where my co-hosts and I reminisce about the Genesis. I went ahead and uploaded it on YouTube so if you want even more Genesis takes then click here to give it a listen!
Also recorded throughout 2009 from the On Tap archives was installments from our history of comic book videogames series. In this next episode I uploaded to YouTube is the second part of series where we breakdown every single comic book licensed game on the SNES and Genesis! My co-host Matt and I did thorough research for this episode and played almost nearly every single comic book game from this era in preparation for the episode to give the most up to date research and to see if these games (of which a vast majority are beat-em-ups) still hold up. Click here to give it a listen!
My Other Gaming Flashbacks
GameBoy 30th Anniversary
#videogames#genesis#Sega#mega drive#punisher#madden#nhl 94#skitchin#shadowrun#teenage mutant ninja turtles#hyperstone heist#captain america and the avengers#evander holyfield#world series baseball#prime#tiny toons#streets of rage#toejam and earl
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Ninteenth Christmas
the series is as follows so far:
First … Second … Third … Fourth … Fifth … Fifth Christmas, Part 2 … Sixth … Seventh … Eighth … Ninth … Tenth … Eleventh … Twelfth … Thirteenth … Fourteenth … Fifteenth … Sixteenth … Seventeenth … Eighteenth … Nineteenth … Twentieth … Twenty-first … Twenty-second … Twenty-third
———————–
She’d shown up on Maggie’s porch a few days after Thanksgiving with a carefully packed suitcase and pain so evident on her face that her mother cried while Scully stood quietly in her arms.
It wasn’t until two days later that Maggie, nearly asleep, felt the mattress dip and her youngest daughter crawl under the covers with her, seeking refuge in the familiar embrace of the one person in the world she had left to trust.
Twenty minutes later, Maggie continued rubbing her daughter’s back while Scully took a deep breath, whispering out, “I had to leave, Mama.”
“Did he stop taking the medication?”
Shaking her head against her mother’s arm, “He’s been throwing out the pills or throwing them back up. He says he doesn’t like how they make him feel, like he’s dead inside but when he doesn’t take them, he stops doing anything.” Sniffing, then clawing for a Kleenex behind her from the nightstand, “this time it’s been nearly two weeks since he showered and he hasn’t written anything for months and when he does get up, he locks himself in the basement on his computer looking for what he missed.”
“What he missed?”
“Why it didn’t happen? What clue or evidence did he not pay close enough attention to? When did the date change? Will it happen tomorrow or today or in a month? When will it happen now?”
The abrupt way her daughter stopped made Maggie believe there was more. Pulling Scully closer, she kissed the crown of her head, asking in a whispered voice, “but what happened to make you suddenly appear on my front porch?”
Slipping from her mother’s arms, she stood, wiping her nose before her face crumpled again, fresh tears racing down her cheeks, “he, um … he decided that the new date would be last Friday and when I got home from Thanksgiving dinner here, I found the house shut up and locked which, while not unusual now, I also found him sitting on the stairs just inside with a shotgun, waiting for me or whoever else may show up before I did, unannounced because the invasion had begun.”
Maggie, sitting up by now, covered her mouth, “did he fire it at you? Dana …”
Holding up her hand, “no, he didn’t but he dragged me downstairs and kept me down there for two days while he waited for the end and,” embarrassment was driving her tears now, “I argued and I yelled and he wouldn’t let me leave and I just … I can’t do it anymore.” Pacing now, “I can’t have him pulling me out of bed because of a new theory. I can’t take not knowing what I’m going to find when I come in the front door. He won’t listen to reason anymore and … … and I told him, once he let me back upstairs, that I was leaving … for good … and when I did, he didn’t even come to the steps.”
This last part twisted the knife in Maggie’s heart.
She loved her Fox but Dana came first and letting her anger explode in one expletive puff of rage, “that God-damned asshole needs to grow up and realize he is useless, worthless and hopeless without you!”
Scully’s laugh burst out, a wet, hitching, heart-breaking, wry sound that segued immediately into sobbing, propelling her back into bed, this time her head on Maggie’s lap, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
&&&&&&&&&&&&
He was better off without her there to distract him. He had things to do. He’d been trolling chatrooms, archives, hacking as best he could, learning his way through systems, tracing would-be clues, listening to police bands and military chatter, talking to a man who reminded him so much of Frohike that he began to believe that maybe the Gunmen weren’t dead after all but just hiding deep, deep underground, waiting for their moment to materialize back into the real world.
Two days since he’d heard her call downstairs that she was leaving.
Or maybe three.
Did he eat today? There was a dirty dish in the sink but it may have been hers … or his … from before.
Four days.
He needed more paper for the printer.
Six days.
What was that smell?
Eight.
Shouldn’t she be home from work by now? Maybe she was. Maybe he’d just missed her.
She must be here. There’s a pile of dirty dishes now, in the sink and on the counter. Why hadn’t she done the dishes? It was her week to do them.
He thought it was anyway.
December 1st.
Was it possible that the invasion had been just a year off? Maybe the ships had been delayed? Oh, God, what if they were coming this year?
Scully, where the hell was Scully?
Fumbling for the phone, he heard a clicking now and immediately hung up. Land lines were bad. Land lines could be bugged.
He had a firewall and scramblers and could talk over his computer if he needed to.
She wasn’t at the hospital. She didn’t work that day. Why did the staff sound suspicious of him? Did they know he knew something they didn’t? Where was Scully?!
Maggie. Maggie might know. She should know. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. Call Maggie.
“Fox, she’s not here right now. She’s out doing some grocery shopping.”
Breathing easier, “good,” then hung up.
She would be back in an hour and they’d sit down and talk about the new date.
December 3rd.
What is that smell? Was that him?
Had she come home yet?
Looking through the cupboards, he saw them emptier than before, no vegetables in the drawer, no milk in the carton. Why hadn’t she said ‘hello’ to him when she got back after shopping?
He needed to lie down, the headache encompassing him driving him to the couch, the world spinning, the world closing on him, the world melting into fiery chaos then dripping in darkness, terrifying, unwieldly.
Why wasn’t she home yet?
December 8th.
“Scully, where are you? You didn’t come home yesterday from grocery shopping.”
Nearly dropping her phone in the doctor’s lounge where she was forcing down a salad and sandwich, “Mulder?”
“Yes, it’s me. Who the hell else would it be? Where are you?”
“I’m at work, Mulder. What’s wrong?”
“You need to come home right now. We need to prep the basement some more. The new date is going to be the 21st. I think we just got the year wrong. You need to come home and help get ready.”
Shutting her eyes, she fought to keep the tears from dropping, “Mulder. I’m at work right now and then I go back to Mom’s. I told you last time you called that I was staying there now, remember?”
He sure as hell did not remember! He’d have remembered that conversation and telling her that in no uncertain terms, he heard her say good-bye, then hang up.
The couch.
He needed to lay down.
December 12th.
Washing a dish when he needed it, he ate something.
December 16th.
He hadn’t slept in two days but he had boarded up the back windows. The back door. Barricaded so nothing could get through without a lot of assistance and a battering ram and even then, it would take awhile. Moved out Maggie’s chair. Took up too much room. He needed the room. He needed the space for the camping gear, the propane tanks, the extra sleeping bags, the sandbags for shoring up walls.
December 19th.
He grew weary of calling Scully. He did it every hour on the hour or … was it once a day? Twice a day? Time didn’t pass right in the basement. Climbing up the stairs, he took a shower, wondering where her shampoo had gone.
Why didn’t she just say ‘hi’ to him when she got home?
The bed was made so she must have done that before she went to work.
“Scully, you need to come home right now! I don’t want you on the roads when it begins.”
“Mulder.”
“Why are you crying? We’ll make it through. We always do. We’ll come out of this and we’ll beat them all and we’ll have a planet all to ourselves.”
“I have to go to work, Mulder.”
Ten minutes later, against her better judgement, she answered the phone while in the car, knowing it was him but still not able to ignore him, “what is it, Mulder?”
“Will! We have to go get Will! There’s no one to protect him! He doesn’t know what’s going to happen!! We need to go get him, bring him home! We only have a day left, Scully! We need to go get him!”
Nearly running into the car stopped ahead of her, she slammed on the brakes, pulled onto the shoulder and hung up the phone, turned it off, smashed it on the steering wheel, slammed it on the dashboard for good measure, then pitched it out the window, watching until at least three cars had sped over it, scattering a minimum of 38 pieces of cellular nonsense across four lanes of traffic.
&&&&&&&&&
She finished her shift in peace, the only things keeping her together and distracted were her patients, who needed all the brain processing power she had left. Driving back to Maggie’s, she kissed her mother on the cheek, then curled up in her old bed, staring at the wall until far into the night when, exhaustion winning, she drifted off, restless and scared.
The next morning, the hospital called politely asking her if everything was okay and to tell her that someone had been bothering them all night with calls asking for her. Apologizing profusely, she emailed Mulder a simple, “I am not at work. Do not call me there. I will get fired. See you on the other side of the apocalypse.”
After removing the last line, she sent it to him, then popped Maggie’s phone off the hook and went back to bed.
&&&&&&&&&&
He was overwrought that she wasn’t with him. She would die out in the open and he would be alone in the world. There would be no point to anything after that. All this had been for her. To keep her safe. To keep her alive. To keep her with him forever.
December 21st.
What that a plane overhead?
That low thump outside?
Was she home?
Did she come home because she believed?
Could he take the risk of unlocking the doors to let her in?
What if it was them?
What if they had silently taken over the world? Were coming for him?
What if they had Scully already?
One. Two. Three. Four.
That’s how many walls there were.
One. Two. Three. Four.
That’s how many socks he had on,
One. Two. Three. Four.
He collapsed on the couch against the wall, the rows and rows of canned goods swimming, weaving as he passed out from lack of food and terror at what might be happening above.
&&&&&&&&&&&&
Scully slept through December 21st.
She stretched herself awake on the 22nd and made breakfast for her and Maggie.
She stared out the window at the cold, clear blue sky, bare trees whipping in the frigid wind, sun bright but far away, summer yellow having faded to pale tones, near white, warmth meager but making a valiant effort to thaw her just a few moments at a time.
They set up her mother’s Christmas tree that day, decorated the house, prepped for Christmas Day dinner, 15 people strong, not counting Mulder, which she had done accidently twice now, her heart skipping a beat whenever she realized he wouldn’t be there beside her.
Bill, Tara and the boys arrived on the 24th but didn’t ask about Mulder, having been appropriately warned by Maggie to, in politer terms, shut up about him.
She tried her best to be social, to be present and accounted for but when the first wave of her panic attack hit, she quietly disappeared up to her temporary living quarters on her mother’s floor, having been de-roomed by her nephews. Shutting the door, she took ten minutes to get herself back under control, her breathing less erratic, her heart still thumping hard but the light-headed feeling lessening.
Changing her sweat-soaked shirt, she washed her face, took a deep breath and reciting the periodic table, symbol, atomic weight and at least two characteristics for each element, she returned to her family, waving off her mother’s questioning look and Bill’s angry one.
Christmas Day was no better. In theory, more people meant more distraction but reality screamed at her that he wasn’t there, that he might be dead somewhere in their house, that he hadn’t tried to call Maggie’s house once since she’d emailed him.
Presents were unbearable, the happy faces of kids and adults twisted like hot knives through her soul, each laugh, each giggle, each thank you and exclamation another icepick stabbed to her brain, the pressure headache building behind her eyes to the point where she excused herself to vomit from the pain.
Drugs didn’t touch it and finally, she was forced to admit defeat, retreating yet again upstairs, puking a second time before folding herself in the corner of the room, knocking her head lightly against the wall, an old trick she hadn’t resorted to for years in attempts to distract one major pain with a steady stream of minor ones.
She fell asleep there eventually, only to have Maggie wake her by shaking her shoulders, “Dana? Honey? Are you okay? Why are you on the floor?”
Having slipped to the ground sometime after drifting off, she sat up, her headache down to a quietly manageable roar, “I was knocking the wall to help with my headache.”
Knowing this was one of her daughter’s coping techniques for pain, she didn’t inquire about it further, “we’re eating dinner. Would you like to come down or would you like me to bring you a plate?”
She wasn’t hungry in the least but she had a clarity about her next actions, “I’m okay. I’m not hungry but if you could save me a plate, I’ll eat when I get back.”
With a sad smile, she combed her fingers lightly through Scully’s hair, “are you going to go check on him?”
It felt like defeat, like retreating, like giving in when she should be steadfast and strong, “I have to make sure he’s okay. I won’t stay but I can’t abandon him. Not right now. Not ever probably.” Sighing deeply, she only met her mother’s eyes when Maggie tilted her head in her direction, “but I don’t know that we’ll ever be your Fox’n’Dana again.”
Maggie pulled her into a hug, “I’ll love him anyways and always. Make sure he knows that.”
“I will.”
&&&&&&&&&&&
It was fairly late by the time she pulled up to the house. It was dark and silent once again, but this time, the windows were boards and the motion sensor didn’t turn the porch light on. Cautiously, she used her key, opening the door slowly and calling his name, fearful she’d find him with his shotgun on the stairs again.
Instead, everything was normal.
Except for the smell of rotting trash and sawdust.
Not worrying about that, she made for the basement steps but noticed his feet hanging over the end of the couch in the living room. Beelining there instead, she saw his matted hair, three week old beard, dirty white shirt and holey socks. Not sure she could, should or would wake him up, she watched until she was sure he was breathing, then gently set her gift on the coffee table in front of him.
Noticing he hadn’t decorated, she was almost grateful, not wanting to think about past Christmas’s and definitely not wanting to see their ornament collection judging her for abandoning both it and him.
Sneaking back out, she locked the door behind.
&&&&&&&&&&
The following afternoon, once Mulder had woken up from his liquored stupor, he noticed the holiday gift bag sitting in front of him.
He couldn’t bring himself to look but he didn’t throw it away either.
He instead tucked in a drawer in the rolltop desk and returned to his half-bottle of Jack Daniels.
Merry Christmas indeed.
#msr#downward spiral#christmas series#she locked the door behind her#my writing#xfiles fanfic#xf fanfic
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The Apple Cup is one of college football’s greatest culture-clash rivalries
And these days, it’s actually a big game anyway.
There are two kinds of college football rivalries.
Some — like Michigan-Ohio State, Alabama-Auburn, and Clemson-South Carolina — pair fan bases that already have a lot more in common than they tend to admit.
And some — like Mississippi State-Ole Miss, Georgia-Georgia Tech, and Notre Dame-USC — bring together people who often really do have very little in common on the surface.
One extreme example of the latter: Washington-Washington State.
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When one is making a first trip into the Palouse country, it might be easy to ask out loud, ‘Where is everybody?’ Especially if you come from an urban region, and out here in the rolling wheatland, it’s different. The air’s sweet, you can hear the bird’s song, and the natural process includes all four season with gusto.
You find Washington State University on a collection of hills, adjacent to the town of Pullman, and in the eyes of an old alumnus, it is still a happy find, for one who came from afar and who stayed long enough to have a life picked.
And once in a while, the WSU Cougars sit on top of the Pac-10 Conference football standings in November.
On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, Seattle hosts the Apple Cup, the annual matchup between the Washington Huskies and the Cougars that began in 1900 and has been played continuously for the last 62 years. It’s a series that captivates a state, divides households, and causes spontaneous chants with team names and four-letter words.
For the state of Washington, Apple Cup weekend is a special time, but to an outsider, it’s a lot like Pullman: distant, isolated, and just a tad bit confusing.
To understand the Apple Cup, start in Seattle.
Photo by Otto Greule Jr/Getty Images
Just north of the city proper, nestled between Lake Washington and Lake Union, you’ll find UW. It sits in the middle of the state’s largest city, boasting a premier medical school, a massive research apparatus and budget, and a strong business school.
You’ll find Husky Stadium along the shores of Lake Washington, just down the hill from the main campus. You can tailgate on a boat before docking and heading into the game. The views are some of the best in college football.
As you leave Seattle and head east on Interstate 90, cutting through the Cascade Mountains, you’ll notice the scenery changing. The range, which extends from Canada to California, serves as a natural dividing line in the state: East and west; rainy and arid; urban and rural; Huskies and Cougars. There’s a tension between the two sides of the state in politics, environment, and lifestyle.
And when you compare Pullman and Seattle, it’s clear what makes the rivalry tick.
James Snook-USA TODAY Sports
WSU feels like an accident, set in the middle of farms and wheat fields and protected by the speed trap that is Colfax. Washington State students and alumni take pride in the isolation of Pullman and wear it like a badge of honor.
That isolation creates a bond between the city and its temporary residents, hardening the alumni connection. Ask a Washington State graduate how it feels to return to Pullman, and they’ll describe cresting the hill leading into town after a long time away.
It’s something you don’t quite get at the University of Washington, where the school is just a blip on the map, buried in a sea of skyscrapers. It’s easy to sneak off into the city on weekends or head back to a childhood home. In Pullman, you’re trapped, an hour and a half from civilization and with nothing to do but bond and drink. That bond sticks, and if you need proof, walk through an airport — any airport — with Washington State gear on.
You see the differences show up in the Apple Cup rivalry and the taunts that go back and forth.
Cougs call Huskies sidewalk fans, testing their allegiances by asking, “Where did you actually go to school?” Huskies fire back by calling Cougs little brother, looking down their noses and wondering who would ever go to Pullman.
These aren’t hypothetical experiences, either. Washington State leans on the Seattle area for enrollment, and another common Washington taunt is, “You couldn’t get into our school, so you went to Wazzu.” Graduates then empty back out to the west side of the state to go to work, folding right back into the sea of purple, gold, crimson, and gray.
The rivalry bleeds into home lives and family, work and friendships. If Washington State gets knocked off by an FCS school to open the season, Washington fans will remind them. Lose the Apple Cup, and that sting won’t go away for a year.
And for a week in November every year, the Apple Cup consumes the state.
What’s crazy about it is that it’s not as though it’s a great or competitive series: Washington owns a 71-32-6 all-time record, and last year’s matchup was only the second time both teams came into the game with each playing for the same title. The last time before that was in 1936.*
*1981 was close, but Washington needed help from USC in a game that kicked off around the same time as the Apple Cup. They got that help, and ended up in the Rose Bowl with a win.
Washington fans have an expectation that their team is always inches from a Return To Glory. They brand this, and the marketing works. A summer tradition for the last 15 years has been watching as Washington fans hype the team up, only to watch it fall apart in September. Washington State fans skip the hype and go straight to the face-planting.
Because the Apple Cup has been lopsided, it thrives on moments, upsets, chaos and, for Washington State, the hope that those bring. Stretched out over the course of the series, these don’t look like much on paper. But for the Cougs, they’re everything.
There’s one more thing to understand about Coug fans, and what happens when the team turns a corner and starts to look good, like it has in 2016.
The video at the top is a highlight clip of the 2002 Washington State season. It was the midpoint in the best run in Cougar history, a string of three consecutive 10-win seasons that included trips to the Rose Bowl and Holiday Bowl.
What the video doesn’t tell you is how 2002 ended.
Washington State came into the Apple Cup ranked third in the country, needing a win to clinch the Pac-10 championship and a trip to the Rose Bowl. In the fourth quarter, quarterback Jason Gesser went down with an ankle injury, and the game stretched into three overtimes. Down three and with a chance to tie or win, backup quarterback Matt Kegel threw a bubble screen on first down that was tipped and nearly intercepted before squirting out onto the turf. Officials ruled it a backwards pass that had been recovered by Washington, and the underdog Huskies knocked off the Cougars.
Martin Stadium devolved into chaos as fans threw anything nearby onto the field. This included empty glass alcohol bottles, aimed at players, coaches, and even the Washington athletic director. (Sodas have been served without caps in the stadium since, making them harder to use as projectiles.)
The Cougars recovered from the loss, and Gesser from his ankle injury, to beat UCLA two weeks later in a rare post-Apple Cup game and earn a trip to the Rose Bowl. And 10 days after that, head coach Mike Price left Pullman for a brief stint at Alabama.
Washington State came into all three Apple Cups during their run of 10-win seasons ranked in the top-10. They went 0-3 against Washington during that period, and the best coach they’ve ever had left in the middle of it.
After finishing Thanksgiving with family, thousands of fans will filter across Washington for an annual tradition.
The state will stop for three and a half hours as the Huskies and Cougars play an Apple Cup with bragging rights and a division title on the line. At the end of it all, everyone will make the drive home, emptying out into cities across the state. That drive is lonely for the loser, knowing what’s looming on the other side.
Because in the end, the schools sit at opposite ends of Washington with polar opposite surroundings, but the people intermingle everywhere in between. The state bonds over the Apple Cup, and has for over 100 years. It’s a rivalry between friends and neighbors, coworkers and family, people you see and talk to everyday. And those people will remind you of one big difference every year: the score of the Apple Cup.
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The Apple Cup is one of college football’s greatest culture-clash rivalries
And this year, it’s actually a big game anyway.
There are two kinds of college football rivalries.
Some — like Michigan-Ohio State, Alabama-Auburn, and Clemson-South Carolina — pair fan bases that already have a lot more in common than they tend to admit.
And some — like Mississippi State-Ole Miss, Georgia-Georgia Tech, and Notre Dame-USC — bring together people who often really do have very little in common on the surface.
One extreme example of the latter: Washington-Washington State.
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When one is making a first trip into the Palouse country, it might be easy to ask out loud, ‘Where is everybody?’ Especially if you come from an urban region, and out here in the rolling wheatland, it’s different. The air’s sweet, you can hear the bird’s song, and the natural process includes all four season with gusto.
You find Washington State University on a collection of hills, adjacent to the town of Pullman, and in the eyes of an old alumnus, it is still a happy find, for one who came from afar and who stayed long enough to have a life picked.
And once in a while, the WSU Cougars sit on top of the Pac-10 Conference football standings in November.
On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, Seattle hosts the Apple Cup, the annual matchup between the Washington Huskies and the Cougars that began in 1900 and has been played continuously for the last 62 years. It’s a series that captivates a state, divides households, and causes spontaneous chants with team names and four-letter words.
For the state of Washington, Apple Cup weekend is a special time, but to an outsider, it’s a lot like Pullman: distant, isolated, and just a tad bit confusing.
To understand the Apple Cup, start in Seattle.
Photo by Otto Greule Jr/Getty Images
Just north of the city proper, nestled between Lake Washington and Lake Union, you’ll find UW. It sits in the middle of the state’s largest city, boasting a premier medical school, a massive research apparatus and budget, and a strong business school.
You’ll find Husky Stadium along the shores of Lake Washington, just down the hill from the main campus. You can tailgate on a boat before docking and heading into the game. The views are some of the best in college football.
As you leave Seattle and head east on Interstate 90, cutting through the Cascade Mountains, you’ll notice the scenery changing. The range, which extends from Canada to California, serves as a natural dividing line in the state: East and west; rainy and arid; urban and rural; Huskies and Cougars. There’s a tension between the two sides of the state in politics, environment, and lifestyle.
And when you compare Pullman and Seattle, it’s clear what makes the rivalry tick.
James Snook-USA TODAY Sports
WSU feels like an accident, set in the middle of farms and wheat fields and protected by the speed trap that is Colfax. Washington State students and alumni take pride in the isolation of Pullman and wear it like a badge of honor.
That isolation creates a bond between the city and its temporary residents, hardening the alumni connection. Ask a Washington State graduate how it feels to return to Pullman, and they’ll describe cresting the hill leading into town after a long time away.
It’s something you don’t quite get at the University of Washington, where the school is just a blip on the map, buried in a sea of skyscrapers. It’s easy to sneak off into the city on weekends or head back to a childhood home. In Pullman, you’re trapped, an hour and a half from civilization and with nothing to do but bond and drink. That bond sticks, and if you need proof, walk through an airport — any airport — with Washington State gear on.
You see the differences show up in the Apple Cup rivalry and the taunts that go back and forth.
Cougs call Huskies sidewalk fans, testing their allegiances by asking, “Where did you actually go to school?” Huskies fire back by calling Cougs little brother, looking down their noses and wondering who would ever go to Pullman.
These aren’t hypothetical experiences, either. Washington State leans on the Seattle area for enrollment, and another common Washington taunt is, “You couldn’t get into our school, so you went to Wazzu.” Graduates then empty back out to the west side of the state to go to work, folding right back into the sea of purple, gold, crimson, and gray.
The rivalry bleeds into home lives and family, work and friendships. If Washington State gets knocked off by an FCS school to open the season, Washington fans will remind them. Lose the Apple Cup, and that sting won’t go away for a year.
And for a week in November every year, the Apple Cup consumes the state.
What’s crazy about it is that it’s not as though it’s a great or competitive series: Washington owns a 71-32-6 all-time record, and last year’s matchup was only the second time both teams came into the game with each playing for the same title. The last time before that was in 1936.*
*1981 was close, but Washington needed help from USC in a game that kicked off around the same time as the Apple Cup. They got that help, and ended up in the Rose Bowl with a win.
Washington fans have an expectation that their team is always inches from a Return To Glory. They brand this, and the marketing works. A summer tradition for the last 15 years has been watching as Washington fans hype the team up, only to watch it fall apart in September. Washington State fans skip the hype and go straight to the face-planting.
Because the Apple Cup has been lopsided, it thrives on moments, upsets, chaos and, for Washington State, the hope that those bring. Stretched out over the course of the series, these don’t look like much on paper. But for the Cougs, they’re everything.
There’s one more thing to understand about Coug fans, and what happens when the team turns a corner and starts to look good, like it has in 2016.
The video at the top is a highlight clip of the 2002 Washington State season. It was the midpoint in the best run in Cougar history, a string of three consecutive 10-win seasons that included trips to the Rose Bowl and Holiday Bowl.
What the video doesn’t tell you is how 2002 ended.
Washington State came into the Apple Cup ranked third in the country, needing a win to clinch the Pac-10 championship and a trip to the Rose Bowl. In the fourth quarter, quarterback Jason Gesser went down with an ankle injury, and the game stretched into three overtimes. Down three and with a chance to tie or win, backup quarterback Matt Kegel threw a bubble screen on first down that was tipped and nearly intercepted before squirting out onto the turf. Officials ruled it a backwards pass that had been recovered by Washington, and the underdog Huskies knocked off the Cougars.
Martin Stadium devolved into chaos as fans threw anything nearby onto the field. This included empty glass alcohol bottles, aimed at players, coaches, and even the Washington athletic director. (Sodas have been served without caps in the stadium since, making them harder to use as projectiles.)
The Cougars recovered from the loss, and Gesser from his ankle injury, to beat UCLA two weeks later in a rare post-Apple Cup game and earn a trip to the Rose Bowl. And 10 days after that, head coach Mike Price left Pullman for a brief stint at Alabama.
Washington State came into all three Apple Cups during their run of 10-win seasons ranked in the top-10. They went 0-3 against Washington during that period, and the best coach they’ve ever had left in the middle of it.
After finishing Thanksgiving with family, thousands of fans will filter across Washington for an annual tradition.
The state will stop for three and a half hours as the Huskies and Cougars play an Apple Cup with bragging rights and a division title on the line. At the end of it all, everyone will make the drive home, emptying out into cities across the state. That drive is lonely for the loser, knowing what’s looming on the other side.
Because in the end, the schools sit at opposite ends of Washington with polar opposite surroundings, but the people intermingle everywhere in between. The state bonds over the Apple Cup, and has for over 100 years. It’s a rivalry between friends and neighbors, coworkers and family, people you see and talk to everyday. And those people will remind you of one big difference every year: the score of the Apple Cup.
Google
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