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#but you’ll probably see me have a breakdown and reblog a hundred posts of anything I like anyway shflshfj
emmamills · 1 year
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i feel like i should apologize for that ending but if it were up to me, it wouldn't have happened in the first place. head canons though! best way to erase and manage the bad aspects lol. Lucy Liu is fantastic in s1. honestly, that's the reason why i first started watching it and it ended up being good. i wish i could recommend more things with lana parrilla but alas. i have seen santa clarita diet, i'm still upset it got canceled. but similarly, have you seen Dead To Me? started watching for Linda Cardellini but i ended up liking the show. i'll be on the lookout for any other similar shows to recommend. glad WWK wasn't a bust.
ahah it’s all good, knowing that the ending Wasn’t Great kinda helped brace me for it. but yeah I mean she totally just recovered and went off to NY and is living it up away from this mess and that’s why she was never mentioned again 😌
good to hear you also watched for an actress and it worked out well, it’s kind of always a shot in the dark. the things we do for love and whatnot. and yeah netflix apparently can’t be trusted to not cancel their best shows. although Dead to Me is also netflix? so maybe this will be their redemption arc, I haven’t seen it yet but 📝
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wingsofninewheels · 3 years
Text
Diamond Farming Guide
After several months of stam hoarding, I cannot recall which Nikki tuber(s) have suggested Debbie-format as the cornerstone of dia farming, but I can tell you that day 1 of skipping the Debbie-format suit in favor of the NPC’s sweet sweet diamonds yielded me about 550 diamonds--and I haven’t even cracked into my comp box stockpile yet. (This stuff is probably a fusion of wisdom from both Effie and Viv in the past year, but I follow at least four Nikkis on YT, and they all have great gameplay input and tons of experience.) I’m just so impressed with the efficiency of it, that I wanted to do a write-up for it!
Hoard stam and Competition vote boxes. (Optional, but also helpful for accumulating even more stam and dia: Lots of Corridor voting, too.) Anytime you participate in a Hell event that drops stam, keeping it for later is a great base for hoarding, ‘cause it typically works out to several hundred per suit.
Skip a Debbie-format suit that you’re not 100% in love with. Thus far, they always return for crafting/store. Instead of accumulating the currency to exchange for the suit, give it all to the NPC. (Optional: Hunt easter eggs. I don’t do it, so I don’t have a breakdown on how to. Many players swear by it, though, and there’s lots of tutorials out there.) If you don’t have things to farm crafting materials for--though I can’t imagine many are lacking for things to craft right now, ‘cause V2:Ch6 is so huge--Maiden V1:7-7 is ideal for decomp purposes, as it can drop a ♥♥♥ and a ♥♥♥♥, often both: and you’ll always need more Earrings & Necklaces.
(Alternately, of course, you can always finish a Debbie-format suit, then continue this farming guide as normal. Depending on your V-level and how much stam you tend to hoard, you’ll usually get at least a day and a half to two days of dia-farming on top of acquiring the suit, if you so desire.)
Use the extra gold from the NPC and stam usage to buy pull 100s in the Pavilion of Mystery. Now couldn’t be a better time to do all the extra pull 100s you can, because 95% of the crafting materials for Starsea can come from the Mystery House, and we’ll likely (hopefully?) be getting the Starsea recolor on LN server sometime this year? I usually keep around 500k-1mil on hand for crafting purposes and spend the rest.
Decomp everything extra. (If you were farming V1:7-7 that’s Lampwick Brown hair and Silent Rose coat.) Revel in dozens of decomp chests, which can yield Tarot pieces, dia, dyes, star coins, and gold--and doing so doubles as Reconstruction suit farming, so you’re likely to get massive progress on any you’re working on.
If you want to be extra thorough, you can weed out all the Mystery House recolors that you’ve already finished. The ones I find easiest at a glance are from Tower of Zen: the “lucky red” pieces and the gold ♥♥♥♥♥ pieces. (I compiled a full list below, for if you’re ever feeling like cleaning up your wardrobe dupes.)
There’s a hyper-intensive third degree of decomp where you assess whether you’ve crafted every single thing an item might be used for, then decomp them from that point on--but it takes hours upon hours of cross-referencing on Nikki’s Info, and I’ve never in the three years I’ve played completed a full inventory purge. It’s not necessary, but it’s a major extra push for decomp chests if you’re so inclined. (I once saw Viv decomp over a thousand items this way.)
If you’ve got a surplus of Mystery House currency, you can always spend it on pieces you can buy, then turn around and decomp those too. I see lots of people cash in their Cinderella Shoes for decomp material, for example, if there’s not any Lifetime suits they’re saving up for. I personally always aim to complete all Lifetime suits (and eventually, all their recolors... except Grice, that restored Yoke can stay in the bin RIP) so I keep my Cinderella Shoes, where I prefer to buy extras with my 150-dia pav currencies, if I’m doing this.
I’ve also seen people during pick-and-choose Debbie-format events spend any surplus currency last day on whatever item(s) they can afford, for extra decomps. Ideally, though, you’ll never have that much leftover on the last day, following this strategy.
Following this strategy during a Debbie-format event, you essentially get dia from your dailies, from voting in the Competition and Corridor, from the NPC, from decomp chests, and from completing suits. It all racks up very very fast!
If you’ve found this useful, I'd super appreciate a like and reblog. Share it with your fellow Nikkis. You’re free to link to this list elsewhere! Just make sure to credit me, please, as this write-up took several hours. I don’t have a Reddit account, so it’s totally cool if anybody wants to cross-post!
♥♥♥♥♥♥ Enjoy swimming in dia, lovely Nikkis. ♥♥♥♥♥♥
(If I’ve made any errors or missed items, totally let me know so I can edit this!)
Below the cut is a breakdown of the Mystery House items that have recolors, sorted by rarity and tab. Anything you have finished all the recolors of is prime decomp fodder--you are almost guaranteed Recomp jewelry drops from them. (The way I usually go is, skim through Customize with a list like this one, and write down anything that has a “Get” on it. Anything you still need to color something of will show at the very top of the list, without a “Get” on it. Then, I take the list I compiled, and apply that to the Decomp menu.)
Hair
Autumn • Gold ♥♥♥
Traditional Bride • Brown ♥♥♥
Evergreen Flower • Black ♥♥♥
Resonance ♥♥♥
Cresent ♥♥♥♥
Countryside Girl • Brown ♥♥♥♥
Dynamic Summer • Silver ♥♥♥♥
Cute Animal ♥♥♥♥
Dark Tomb ♥♥♥♥♥
Messy Cute ♥♥♥♥♥
Fine Creation ♥♥♥♥♥
Holy World ♥♥♥♥♥
Bond in Distance ♥♥♥♥♥
Emmy ♥♥♥♥♥ 
Young Warbler • Verdant ♥♥♥♥♥ 
Light Tone ♥♥♥♥♥
Pinky-white Curls ♥♥♥♥♥
Dress
First Encounter ♥♥♥ 
Kapok ♥♥♥
Elegant Dress • Beige ♥♥♥ 
Bright Future ♥♥♥
Star Shadow ♥♥♥
Pink Gauze Dress ♥♥♥
Teddy Bear • Brown ♥♥♥
Sentimental Regret ♥♥♥♥ 
Jade Yard ♥♥♥♥ 
Cloud Dance • Red ♥♥♥♥ 
Pastoral Pearl • Red ♥♥♥♥ 
Light Feather • Gray ♥♥♥♥
Flower of Sin • White  ♥♥♥♥
Docile Alpaca ♥♥♥♥
Snow White Kitty ♥♥♥♥
Stygian Death ♥♥♥♥♥
Auspicious Clouds ♥♥♥♥♥
Phoenix of Genesis ♥♥♥♥♥�� GOLD
Dragon of Apocalypse ♥♥♥♥♥  GOLD
Pearl Girl ♥♥♥♥♥
Fairytale Stars ♥♥♥♥♥
Chocolate Teddy ♥♥♥♥♥
Coat
Duo Moon ♥♥♥
Silk Coat • White ♥♥♥
Lace Coat • White ♥♥♥♥
Iron Rose ♥♥♥♥
Cloud Flower ♥♥♥♥
Nice Pistil ♥♥♥♥♥
Gentle Care ♥♥♥♥♥
Flourish Peach ♥♥♥♥♥
Revival Sound ♥♥♥♥♥
Top
Fortunate Flowers ♥♥♥
Cloud Blouse • Blue ♥♥♥♥♥
Sweet Dream ♥♥♥♥♥
Bottom
Lucky Star ♥♥♥ 
Star Shatters ♥♥♥
Sandal Branch • Red ♥♥
Elegant Rendering ♥♥♥♥
Cloud Pants • Blue ♥♥♥♥♥
Fantasy Sleep ♥♥♥♥♥
Hosiery
Radiant Joy ♥♥♥
Teddy Footprint • Brown ♥♥♥
The Rivulet ♥♥♥♥ 
Soft Socks ♥♥♥♥
White Kitten Tale ♥♥♥♥
Sweet Garter ♥♥♥♥♥ 
Snowy Night ♥♥♥♥♥
Honey Star ♥♥♥♥♥
Shoes
Peep-toe Heels • Gray ♥♥ 
Running Shoes • White ♥♥ 
Cradle of Snow • Blue ♥♥
Smooth Career ♥♥♥
Bloch’s Labyrinth • Brown ♥♥♥ 
Rubber Boots • Pink ♥♥♥ 
Kimi’s Rose • Black ♥♥♥ 
Black Patent Leather ♥♥♥ 
Obedience ♥♥♥
Pastoral • Brown ♥♥♥♥
Blue Porcelain • Shoes ♥♥♥♥
Pale High Heels ♥♥♥♥
Cute High Heels ♥♥♥♥
Glamour - Brown ♥♥♥♥
Oceans Conquer • Blue ♥♥♥♥
Dream Envoy ♥♥♥♥♥ 
Propitious Buckle ♥♥♥♥♥
Phoenix World ♥♥♥♥♥
Emperor of Universe ♥♥♥♥♥
Stars • Pink ♥♥♥♥♥
Sweet Teddy • Black ♥♥♥♥♥
Accessories
Scorching Sun ♥♥♥
Auspiciousness ♥♥♥
Gold and Jade ♥♥♥
Goodbye to Nian ♥♥♥
Joyful ♥♥♥
Embrace ♥♥♥ 
Shining ♥♥♥ 
Lonely Star ♥♥♥ 
Fireflies ♥♥♥
Red Riding Hood’s Bracelet ♥♥♥♥ (after crafting Tender Charm)
Beach Wristband ♥♥♥♥ (after crafting Rose)
Rose Necklet • Brown ♥♥♥♥ 
Garden Headband • Brown ♥♥♥♥
Goofy Face ♥♥♥♥
Warm Companion ♥♥♥♥ 
White Kitten Earrings ♥♥♥♥ 
White Kitten Gloves ♥♥♥♥ 
White Kitten Tail ♥♥♥♥
Blue Porcelain • Bag ♥♥♥♥♥ 
Rosy Dream ♥♥♥♥♥ 
Sweet Choker ♥♥♥♥♥ 
Bow Ribbon ♥♥♥♥♥ 
Auspicious Knot ♥♥♥♥♥
Bird Pilgrimage ♥♥♥♥♥  GOLD
Dragon in Heaven ♥♥♥♥♥  GOLD
Phoenix Crown ♥♥♥♥♥  GOLD
Great Heaven Crown ♥♥♥♥♥
Soft Pink Choker ♥♥♥♥♥
Flowers in Summer ♥♥♥♥♥
Star Hunt • Red ♥♥♥♥♥ 
Prince Teddy • Brown ♥♥♥♥♥
Makeup
Queen Saint Phoenix ♥♥♥♥♥
King Saint Cloud ♥♥♥♥♥
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thirteen-beaxhes · 5 years
Text
Well This is Egg-celent (Tyrus One Shot)
Summary: TJ jokingly left a comment on Cyrus Goodman’s Tweet, and got an unexpected response.
Words: 4248
AO3 LINK IN REBLOG
~~~~~~~~~
“Hope you guys enjoyed this one! I loved the concept and had a blast making it with all my friends. I will see you all again, with another ridiculous to execute idea!” And the screen went black, the boxes of Youtube’s recommended videos popping up.
TJ laughed slightly at the end, using the back of his hoodie sleeve to wipe his nose, ignoring the tears streaming down his face. No stopping them clearly. But he was happy for the short break from his spiralling mind, for the brief respite.
Thank god for Cyrus Goodman’s films and videos, he thought to himself with a sigh, pushing his laptop back onto the bed which he had currently been lying on for two days straight. Amber had been walking in every now and then, desperately trying to get TJ to do something, anything, to try and not have him sink further into his emotions.
That worked about as well as one could imagine.
Drawing a shaky breath, TJ brushed off some of the cookie crumbs on his hoodie, accidentally kicking the empty ice cream carton off the bed. Oh well. He looked around his room to find it resembling the scene of a tornado hitting it. But he just couldn’t get himself to clean it. In that state, the chaos was comforting to him.
He picked up his phone, rubbing his stinging eyes as he opened Instagram. He clicked on the first Story, not even checking the name. He just wanted to let them play, giving some background noise as he just stared blankly at his screen. But, he jerked his head forward as soon as he heard that oh, so familiar voice.
Louis.
TJ gulped, his throat suddenly dry. He held his phone up with both his hands, peering at the screen, looking at the boy who had walked into his life a year ago and had stolen his heart, and who had left nothing but a stain on the carpet when he ran away with its broken pieces 3 days ago. He was at the bowling alley, hugging another boy TJ hadn’t seen before by the shoulders, laughing, his smile radiant. Having the time of his life.
Hoor-fucking-ray.
Tears filled up his eyes, as he immediately exited the stories, slamming his phone down onto the bed. He sniffed, unable to stop  some stray ones from falling, the drops staining his hoodie.
He just hadn’t been good enough for him, that was it, TJ thought to himself, picking up his phone again, very pointedly avoiding Instagram. That’s why he was able to move on so fast. That, and the circumstances of their actual break up.
TJ took a deep breath, opening Twitter to absent-mindedly scroll through his account. He made it a point to stick to his stan account, knowing that it was the only social media where he wasn’t following a certain someone. He let out a small breath every time he came across a meme, just trying to lose himself to the endless scrolling.
A few minutes later, a notification popped up with the tweeting of a bird. TJ narrowed his eyes, scrolling up and letting a small smile come up on his face.
@CyGoodman_ : i’m in an irrationally vengeful and havoc-wreaking mood now
TJ laughed quietly, shaking his head slightly at the tweet. He could just imagine Cyrus standing with a sledgehammer ready to total someone’s car. He focused more on the Cyrus part than the car, but no one needed to know that.
Maybe it was the mood he was in, or maybe TJ was just too tired. But soon enough, he found himself typing out a reply and posting it, before he was able to register what exactly he had just said.
@filmsaregoodman : haha great maybe you can help me egg my idiot ex’s house this weekend then
Why did he say that?! Cyrus was going to think he was so weird!! TJ thought to himself in a panic, taking short breaths as he clicked on the button to delete it, but he stopped himself.
He would never see it, given the flood of replies, he rationalised. Besides, he just saw someone ask him to meet them in an abandoned building with a pickaxe so he definitely didn’t have to worry about being too weird.
TJ just groaned, shutting off his phone and plugging it into his charger as he turned onto his side. He just needed to sleep and focus on trying and actually getting up the next day, he thought as he pulled the sheet over himself.
*
The beeping of his alarm drilled into TJ’s brain, and he groaned as he rolled over onto his back, pinching the bridge of his nose. Who invented the concept of time? TJ just wanted to have a kind word with them.
As he blindly reached for his phone, TJ was also hit with the unimaginable stench of his room, courtesy of him not having showered. He winced at that, making a mental note to go crazy on the deodorant. He opened his phone, clicking on the Twitter app. Nothing extraordinary seemed to have happened, but when TJ looked through his messages, his eyes caught a name and he yelped loudly, falling off his bed in an unceremonious crash.
“TJ!” Amber yelled, running into the room, holding a spatula. She saw TJ breathing heavy on the floor, muttering wildly to himself. She walked up to him and smacked him on the head with the spatula. “What happened?!”
“Why do you have a spatula?!” TJ asked incredulously, rubbing his head.
“Cuz I thought you were being attacked!”
“So a spatula was your best weapon? You were literally in the kitchen! With knives!”
“Well, I’m sorry if I grabbed the first weapon I could find! And we are getting off track!”
“Okay so,” TJ said loudly, before holding up his phone in excitement. “Cyrus Goodman DM’ed me!”
“What?!” Amber yelled excitedly, dropping the spatula on the floor as she jumped next to TJ. “What? How?”
TJ explained the Tweets from the previous night and then held his phone up to her, showing her the message. Amber pulled the phone to her, peering at the message in confusion.
“Hey! This is so weird and may seem stalkerish ahhhh but I saw your reply to my tweet so I wanted to ask: can I have your address?? I swear I won’t send a hitman to your house!” Amber read out, narrowing her eyes in confusion. “Well, that’s strange.”
“I know but, he messaged me!” TJ squealed, but soon he looked at her in confusion. “What do I say? What does he want my address for? Maybe he wants to send something? Oh my god, how do I look?”
Amber laughed, shaking her head as she got up, patting him on the shoulder. “I don’t know bro, you need to figure that out.” With that, she walked out of the room, yelling that she would be back from work late that day.
TJ sighed as Amber left, hiding his head in his hands.
He could draft a message to his favourite creator no problem, right?
Yeah, right.
*
Despite his five hundred mental breakdowns over trying to type a single word to Cyrus Goodman, the next couple days passed relatively normally. Amber finally managed to shove TJ out of bed, forcing him to go to work at the coffee shop where Marty was extremely concerned at his disappearance. Life returned to normal, and if TJ shied away from his phone and social media, and just smiled amicably at guys who tried to hit on him, no one said a word. The messages and tweets slipped out of his mind almost completely.
It was now Friday, and TJ groaned as Amber walked up to him, modelling yet another dress as she prepared for her date that night.
“You sure you’ll be okay at home?” Amber asked, concerned, as she looked at herself in the mirror.
“Yes Amber, I’ll be perfectly fine,” TJ said, laughing slightly.
“Okay,” she said, slightly unsure. But soon, she grabbed her handbag and left, flashing a small smile of nervousness before she left.
After she had gone, TJ slumped into the couch, grabbing the popcorn and ice cream he had abandoned as Amber asked him opinions on all her outfits for her date. He opened Netflix, hugging a pillow as he clicked play on ‘Always be my Maybe’, telling himself he was only watching for Keanu Reeves, not at all because he was lonely and rom-coms were his only shot at romance in his life.
He was more than halfway through the movie, and past the point of being civil as he ate, stuffing popcorn into his mouth as tears rolled down his cheeks. It wasn’t even that the movie was sad, but he was just having one of those movie nights. Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door. Narrowing his eyes, TJ brushed off some popcorn kernels, confused at who could it be. Not Amber, unless her date went bad.
Probably their neighbour about sugar, TJ sighed, as he pushed himself off the couch and rubbed his eyes as he shuffled to the door.
“Sorry mate, no sugar,” TJ said, before looking up and gasping.
Cyrus. Goodman.
What happened next, TJ wasn’t at all proud of. He screamed and slammed the door shut.
What the? How the? Why was Cyrus Goodman at his doorstep? TJ thought wildly, running a hand through his hair. He jerked his head up in shock.
He had just slammed the door on him!
TJ took a deep breath, keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he opened the door, with what he could only assume was a sheepish expression on his face.
“Hey,” Cyrus said softly, and TJ could’ve practically melted on the spot. “I thought for a second I had the wrong house or something,” he said, giving a small laugh that could’ve made angels sing. “Are you, Theo?”
“Y-Yeah,” TJ whispered, finally looking up, but immediately looking back down at his feet because oh my god Cyrus Goodman was standing at his doorstep. “Actually, TJ.”
“What?”
“Call me TJ. I just use Theo on Twitter so people don’t know who I am,” TJ said sheepishly, finally forcing himself to look at Cyrus.
He looked amazing, obviously. He was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt and dark jeans. But TJ furrowed his eyebrows when he looked down, noticing the three toilet paper rolls and three egg cartons tucked under Cyrus’ arm.
“Um, what’s that?” TJ asked, pointing at the questionable supplies. Cyrus looked confused, but looked down at his arm and understood.
“Oh! Yeah, I didn’t wanna bother you with the supplies, so I got them myself!” he said happily, pulling TJ out of the house by the hand. “Come on, we don’t have much time.”
“T-Time? For, for what?” TJ stammered out, unable to concentrate on anything other than the fact that he was practically holding Cyrus’ hand. Cyrus tilted his head to one side.
“To teach your ex a lesson,” Cyrus said simply, with a smile that teased I thought that was obvious.
A wave of realisation hit TJ, and he dropped his jaw open. “I was, I was joking.”
“Well, I’m not. Come on, it’ll make you not cry,” Cyrus said softly, reaching up to wipe away a tear that was on TJ’s cheek with his thumb. His hand lingered by TJ’s face, and god, if that was what it felt like to have your breath taken away, TJ never wanted to breath ever again.
Before he knew it, TJ was slipping on shoes and grabbing the keys out of the cat bowl he and Amber had stolen from their parents’ house when they moved out, shutting the door behind him as he followed Cyrus out the door.
Now that they were outside, walking on the streets, TJ was confronted by the fact that this was real. There he was, walking down the street with someone whose work he had admired for so long, who he may or may not think was breathtaking to look at, and they were walking with him to John’s house, to egg and TP it. Even dreams couldn’t come up with something this wild. But it was real, the chill in the night air, his visible breath in the air, everything was real.
“Let me hold something,” TJ said, trying to grab some of the things from Cyrus, but he moved away.
“No no, let me,” he said with a smile. “Least I could do.”
“Well, you’re doing more than you had to already. It’s all I could do.”
“Still. I wanna do this.”
TJ smiled, shaking his head slightly. He looked ahead, catching glimpses of Cyrus in his peripheral vision every now and then. He could also feel Cyrus looking at him every so often, and that made TJ’s cheeks flush, but if anyone noticed, he’d blame it on the cold.
Finally, after some minutes of silence and of Cyrus looking at him, TJ caved and turned to Cyrus. “What? Did I leave ice cream on my face?” he asked nervously, reaching up to wipe whatever it was away.
“No no,” Cyrus said, raising his eyebrows in amusement. “It’s just, I can’t imagine someone being stupid enough to let someone like you go.”
That comment was enough to turn TJ into a blushing mess, his heart doing the foxtrot in his chest. “I mean, I’m not that great.”
“That’s insane! We’ve exchanged like, 5 sentences, and I know that if you were with me, I’d never let you go.”
TJ choked, disguising it as a cough. What what what, did he say if TJ were with him. Hold the phone, he was dying. Tell Amber that he died as he lived, gay.
Cyrus just laughed quietly, bumping his shoulder with TJ’s. “Sorry, too much?”
“No no! Not at all,” TJ exclaimed, turning to look at him. “I just, no one’s said that before.”
“I can’t believe that,” Cyrus said, and TJ had to keep his eyes trained to the ground, knowing that hiss face was burning up.
They walked down the street in silence for some more time, before Cyrus looked at TJ.
“If you don’t mind telling me, why do you want to egg your ex’s house?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
TJ sighed, looking up at the sky, few stars visible in the sky. Fitting. “We’d been dating for 8 months, but I always felt like I was giving more than he ever was. And then I found out two weeks ago, that he was cheating on me,” he said quietly.
“That’s horrible TJ,” Cyrus said quietly. TJ just scoffed.
“Worst part, I knew that’s the kind of guy he was. And yet, I thought I could be the exception.”
“It’s not your fault,” Cyrus said comfortingly, placing a hand on TJ’s shoulder.
TJ just smiled appreciatively. He looked to his left and stopped, taking a deep breath.
“What is it?” Cyrus asked, stopping beside him.
‘We’re here,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
“Well then,” Cyrus said, with a mischievous smile as he set down the cartons and pulled out two eggs. He handed one to TJ and kept one with himself. “On the count of three then.”
TJ smiled nervously up at Cyrus. “One.”
“Two,” Cyrus said with a smile, coming closer to TJ.
And with twin smiles, they looked at each other. “Three.”
*
“That was insane,” TJ said with a smile, running a hand through his hair, but realising too late that there was egg yolk on his fingers. “Ugh!”
Cyrus was laughing, doubled over. TJ looked over, unamused.
“Haha. Thanks Goodman.”
“Hey,” Cyrus said, holding his hands up. “Did it help or not?”
“Actually,” TJ said, looking away thoughtfully. “It did.”
“See? Vengeance tastes sweet.”
“More like tastes like an impending salmonella infestation.”
Cyrus rolled his eyes, shoving TJ in the shoulder. But then, his expression grew softer. “You sure you’re okay?”
And when TJ thought about it, he was surprised to find himself nodding. Cyrus let out a sigh of relief, looking at his watch.
“Well, 2 am is no time to go home but I’ll try my luck,” he said with a tired smile. “I had fun, TJ.” And with that, Cyrus began walking away, but TJ called out to him.
“Hey!” he said, running up slightly to him. “If you want, you can stay over at my place.”
Cyrus raised his eyebrows slightly, and TJ tried to explain himself nervously. “Well, it’s late. And it’s the least I could do after you came all this way.”
“I literally live across town, TJ,” Cyrus said with a giggle. “But okay, I’ll take you up on that offer. Thanks.”
With that, the two of them began walking back to TJ’s house, an unexpected tension in the air. But it wasn’t unwelcome. TJ and Cyrus constantly snuck glances at each other, both looking away as soon as the other caught them, cheeks pink. And it was pure coincidence if they were walking close enough to let their fingers brush against each other with every step.
They crept into the house quietly, TJ putting a finger to his lips.
“My sister is probably back from her date,” he whispered, and Cyrus nodded, and they made their way to TJ’s room, avoiding as many floorboard creaks as they could. When they got to the room, TJ wanted to throttle himself at the mess.
“I’m, I’m sorry about everything,” TJ muttered, trying to clear space. But Cyrus was deep in thought, looking around the room in awe at the posters and pictures, running his fingers along the spines of the books on TJ’s shelf.
“You like reading?” Cyrus asked softly, turning around as he took off his shoes.
TJ nodded. “Mostly history. You?”
“Space and reptiles,” he replied, sitting down beside TJ on the bed.
“Wow. Just two nerds sitting here together, huh?”
“Seems like it.”
There was a silence after that, both unsure of what to say. The soft orange light of the lamp in TJ’s room was making Cyrus’ face look warm and even more gorgeous than normal. TJ let his gaze flick down to Cyrus’ lips, but he pulled his eyes away, reminding himself that he did not need a relationship just then. Cyrus took a deep breath, hiding what looked like disappointment behind a soft smile.
“So, uh, I’ll take the floor?” TJ said, picking up his pillow. But Cyrus shook his head.
“No, I’ll take the floor, you sleep in your bed.”
“It’s fine, Cyrus.”
“No it’s not,” Cyrus said, grabbing TJ’s hand. “Okay, let’s just share the bed.”
TJ glanced at his bed, worried about size. But the atmosphere in the room was making his sleepy, so he just nodded his head, making the bed for the two of them.
Before they got into bed, TJ grabbed Cyrus’ elbow and pulled him to himself, wrapping him in a hug. Cyrus was surprised, but soon slipped his arms around TJ’s waist.
“Thank you for this,” TJ whispered into Cyrus’ ear, before pulling away and climbing into bed, Cyrus following him as his back faced TJ’s.
And when Amber walked into the room the next morning to find her brother sleepily cuddling the famous person who had messaged her brother, she almost screamed in shock, horror and joy. But then, she just smiled, and went to make breakfast.
*
TJ should have known. Some things were just too good to last. Even things like Cyrus Goodman.
Why had he been stupid enough to let himself fall again? Why couldn’t he learn his lesson?
He’d convinced himself Cyrus was different that Cyrus had seen who he was, and he loved him. He had convinced himself that they were meant to meet for a reason, because he was the one.
Well, another thing TJ Kippen was wrong about.
“Teej, please open the door,” Amber pleaded. “I’m worried about you.”
TJ sighed, pausing his loud rock music to open to door to Amber. Amber gasped when she saw his bedraggled appearance, immediately pulling him in for a hug. Even though he had spent the last 4 hours crying, that hug alone made TJ collapse into sobs, sinking to the floor as he pulled Amber down with him.
“I really thought, Amber,” TJ gasped, but Amber shushed his, placing her hand on the back of his head.
“You’ll be okay, I got you,” she whispered back to him, as she held onto TJ. After they pulled away, when TJ’s tears were just a silent stream, she narrowed her eyes. “What did he say?”
TJ just shook his head. “He just said, ‘This isn’t gonna work out. I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s me. I can’t explain.’ Bullshit.”
“That’s a lame excuse,” Amber huffed, pushing a strand of TJ’s hair back.
“I don’t know what to do Amber,” TJ said in a broken voice. “I thought we could make it. But, I shouldn’t trust anyone.”
“I’m so sorry Teej,” Amber said, leaning her head against TJ’s. “Do you want me to make you anything? I can get ice cream from Costco.”
“No,” TJ said, shaking his head and pushing himself off the floor. “I, I need to do something. But I need your help.”
“Okay?” Amber asked, confused.
“Could you get a carton of eggs for me?”
*
“Why are we doing this?” Amber said, hoding the carton of eggs as she and TJ sat in the cab to Cyrus’ apartment. “What, are we gonna egg his front door? Cuz I’m gonna do more than that.”
TJ shook his head, a small smile on his face as he got out of the cab. He took a deep breath and walked into the building, walking up the stairs to Cyrus’ apartment. The lights seemed to be out from downstairs, so he was probably out or asleep.
“Give me the eggs,” TJ said, and Amber handed him the carton, which he set down at the doorstep.
“Wait, what? We aren’t throwing them?” Amber whined, but TJ just looked up at her.
“Can you, give me a minute?” he asked quietly, and Amber nodded, walking down the stairs.
After she was gone, TJ pulled out a carefully penned note from his coat and placed it on the carton, knocking loudly on the door before walking away, squeezing his eyes shut as he left the building.
I couldn’t even find the energy to throw these at you. Because you were the last person I expected I’d need to do that to.
*
TJ called into work sick the next day, a fact Marty didn’t question much. He didn’t need to ask TJ to see that he was going through utter shit at the time. So, some time alone was what he needed. Even though Amber wasn’t completely ready to leave him alone, but TJ pushed her to accept the date her girlfriend had asked her on.
“I’ll be okay, Amber,” he had said, kissing her on the forehead. “Now go get your girl.”
The mood was perfect too, the rain beginning to pour in torrents. TJ curled up in his blanket, watching Love Island on television. At least some people’s love lives were worse than his. TJ was heavily immersed in the drama between the house members, when suddenly, he heard someone knocking on the door.
In this downpour? TJ thought to himself as he walked to the door and opened it. But when he saw who it was, he froze.
“Cyrus, are you crazy?! What are you doing here?” TJ asked in shock, taking in his appearance.
“I, I had to see you,” Cyrus said between pants, taking in deep breaths.
“Did you run here?”
Nodding, Cyrus took a step forward, but stayed outside. “TJ. I’m so, so sorry. I thought I had to protect you, but I, I made a mistake.”
“Don’t,” TJ cut him off, his voice breaking. “Don’t’ do that, Cyrus. I’m trying to move on.”
“Please, TJ,” Cyrus pleaded, grabbing onto TJ’s elbow. “Please just hear me out.”
TJ just sighed, and looked up at Cyrus, nodding.
“I love you, TJ. So, so much. And being with you has been the best thing to happen to me. And when we decided to go public, I was so happy that I could share my happiness with everyone,” Cyrus said with a sad smile. “But, I started seeing messages and posts with people hating on you, and insulting you, and I know you said it didn’t bother you, but I know it did. I could see it in your eyes. I thought if we weren’t together, it would stop, and you’d be okay.”
“Cyrus,” TJ said softly, squeezing his hand. “You don’t need to worry about that. Sure, it’ll take some getting used to, but in the end, I just wanted to be with you.”
“I just wanna be with you too,” Cyrus said softly, reaching up to brush TJ’s cheek with his thumb.
TJ smiled softly, before leaning in to capture Cyrus’ lips in his, tasting the rain without any care. Cyrus wrapped his arms around TJ’s waist as TJ cupped his cheeks. After they pulled away, TJ leaned his forehead against Cyrus’.
“I love you, TJ.”
“I love you too, Cyrus. And I hope you never give me a reason to egg your house.”
 ~~~~~~~~
This is fluff cuz i got peer pressure by @heart-eyes-kippen and @criminalambis​
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missmentelle · 5 years
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Post #1000 (FAQ)
When I started this blog a few years ago, I couldn’t have imagined that it would grow as quickly as it did - and I definitely didn’t expect to make it to a thousand posts and beyond! I’m so grateful for each and every one of you who has sent in asks, reblogged and liked my posts, or sent me messages and replies. I really wouldn’t still be going if it wasn’t for you. 
So in honour of post #1000, I thought I would take some time to answer some of the most common questions that I get about me, my blog, and the issues that matter to me!
What should I call you? Miss Mentelle?
You can call me MissMentelle, Miss Mentelle, Miss, Mentelle, Ment, MM, or just M. Really, call me anything you like, none of those are my real name.
What kind of education do you have in mental health? Where did you go to school?
I have a Bachelor of Arts Honors degree in psychology, from a large public research university in Canada. I’ve completed a Master’s Degree in Clinical Psychology (concentration in forensic psychology) from a fancy private university in the USA. I’m also a certified rape crisis counselor in NY state. 
Have you ever actually worked in mental health in real life?
I sure have. I volunteered at a suicide hotline and a walk-in mental health distress centre as an undergraduate, and then after graduating I spent two years working with homeless and high-risk inner-city youth in a large Canadian city, doing counselling and psych testing. I then both worked and volunteered at a rape crisis centre in NYC. My hands-on experience working with mental health has mostly been made up of extremes - I have personally dealt with or been present for overdoses, gang fights, suicide attempts, sexual assaults, underage prostitution, psychotic breakdowns, and one instance of gun violence. 
Are you a psychologist? 
I am not. I am not qualified to give anyone a diagnosis. I am qualified to administer and score psych tests, but I am not qualified to interpret the results. Becoming a full-fledged licensed psychologist is a major goal of mine. 
Why did you start this blog? 
When I was working with homeless kids, we had a constant, ongoing problem where many of the kids had absorbed extremely unhealthy ideas about relationships that caused many of them to enter or stay in life-ruining relationships. No matter how hard we tried to counter these ideas and teach the kids about healthy relationships, it never seemed to make much difference. I was required to maintain separate “work” social media accounts that the kids could use to communicate with me, because that was the only means of communication that most of them had, and once I started seeing their social media feeds, it became pretty obvious that most of them were getting their information about love, sex and relationships from incredibly damaging posts being shared on social media. I couldn’t compete with that kind of influence as their mental health worker. So I decided to go online myself, and start creating healthier content to teach kids about these things, not as their worker, but as a blogger. It grew from there. 
Why do you always spell words like “centre” and “cheque” so weird?
I’m Canadian. You can pry my British spellings from my cold, dead hands. “Cheque” in particular seems to really bother people, but I promise you, that’s how non-Americans spell it. 
What’s your real name? 
Nice try, person-who-is-clearly-trying-to-steal-my-identity.
Do you do anything other than mental health?
Of course! I’m a writer in real life, and I’ve published stories in several mainstream anthologies. I also do stand-up comedy, write for a major comedy website, and run a true crime podcast. 
Can I send you an ask?
You definitely can!
What can I ask you about?
Pretty much anything that you feel comfortable asking me - I’ve answered questions about depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, personality disorders, romantic relationships, school problems, friendships, family relationships, parenting, pregnancy, sex, sexuality, and pretty much every mental-health-related topic in between. If I don’t know the answer, I will do some research and try to find the answer, or point you toward someone who does know. I also answer personal questions about myself, my schooling and my experiences, as well as general questions about how to break into this field as a career. 
Are you LGBTQ+?
Yes. I am a bi-romantic ace woman. I openly date both women and men, with no strong preference either way. I am not out to my parents, as most of my long-term partners happen to be male, and that’s not a conversation I want to have with them until it’s strictly necessary. I routinely blog about what it’s like to date while bi and ace and closeted, and I’m happy to answer questions on that topic. 
Are you mentally ill yourself?
Sometimes. I have OCD that is mostly mild/dormant, but it occasionally pops up again when I’m stressed, and it can lead to me spending hours in obsessive thought-spirals where I endlessly worry about things I have no control over, instead of doing anything productive. My OCD makes me believe that I will cause bad things to happen if I have “bad” or “wrong” thoughts that I don’t immediately balance out with “good” thoughts, and even though I know that’s completely irrational, my brain doesn’t agree. I also have ADHD, which I’ve learned to manage, and Tourette’s, which was extremely embarrassing for me as a child, but has gotten milder with age. 
What topics do you know the most about? 
My master’s degree is in forensic psychology, and that’s what I know the most about. My specific areas of expertise are conduct disorder, anti-social personality disorder, oppositional defiant disorder and other severe childhood behavioural problems, psychopaths, paraphilias, the relationship between psychology and crime, FASD, and the ongoing suicide crisis among First Nations youth. I almost never get asks on any of these topics.
Can I request a post on a certain topic?
You sure can! I would love to know what my followers are actually interested in learning more about. 
I sent you an ask weeks ago and you still haven’t answered! Do you hate me?
I don’t! I get a lot of asks, and unfortunately, I have a pretty full schedule that doesn’t leave me enough time to answer all of them in a timely fashion. I do answer all asks eventually, but it might take me a while to get to everyone, and I thank you all in advance for your patience. 
What can do to make sure you answer my ask?
I get to everyone eventually, but I do get to some quicker than others. There’s no guaranteed way to ensure a quick answer, but you’ll probably get a faster reply if you’re asking me a question that I don’t see very often. I’m also faster to reply to asks that give me a specific question (”Where can I find resources to learn meditation?”, “What’s the difference between a PhD and a LMHC?”) than I am at replying to more vague asks, or asks that don’t really ask a specific question (”I’m sad”).
What topics do you get the most asks about?
It varies over time, but in general, the most common asks I see are variants of: “I’m trying to set boundaries with my friend but they aren’t listening”, “I’m sad but I’m not sure what to do about it”, “I need to tell my therapist something but I don’t know how”, “I’m not sure if this relationship is healthy”, and “I went through a breakup and I’m having a hard time getting over it”. I’m happy to keep answering these kinds of questions, but I encourage you to read through my archives a little if that’s the sort of issue that you’re facing.
I’m just starting out as an advice or mental health blogger! Will you promote my page?
Probably not. I get several requests like this per day, and I don’t really have time to vet everyone who asks me this to see if I’m comfortable recommending you to my followers. Plus, most of the blogs that send me requests like this are run by people who don’t have any mental health credentials, and unfortunately, I’m just not comfortable endorsing mental health blogs that don’t have some sort of professional education or experience behind them. 
Can I send you a private message?
Of course! You should know, though, that I’m worse at responding to private messages than I am at responding to asks. Unfortunately, many of the people who have sent me private messages in the past have done so with the expectation that I will provide ongoing mental health support for them or that I will talk them through an ongoing crisis, and I unfortunately don’t have to time to do that for everyone who wants it. I’m a little bit wary of private messages for that reason, but I do still read and answer them. 
Why do you write such long posts and answers?
I was that kid in elementary school who asked if “3-5″ pages was a maximum, or if I could write more than that. I have never grown out of being that type of person.
What should I do with my life?
I don’t know. Sometimes I barely know what to do with my own life. I can point you toward resources to help you figure stuff out, but I can’t tell you what to do - you’re the expert on your own life, not me.
How do I get therapy?
This is actually a really hard question for me to answer. It depends on your individual situation, as well as your financial resources, geographic location and insurance situation. Most of the time, I just don’t have enough information to give you an answer. I can tell you about some online resources and telephone hotlines that you can try, but you’re probably going to have to do your own research about how to access long-term professional mental health services in your area. 
Should I break up with my partner? 
I can’t really give you a straight answer to that either - I don’t know either of you, and I can’t make such a huge decision for you, especially when I only have a couple hundred words of backstory on the relationship. I can tell you whether the relationship sounds healthy or not, based on what you’ve told me, and I can tell you some general information about situations that might cause people to break up, but you have to be the one to actually make the decision about whether or not to pull the plug. 
I don’t like my medication, should I stop taking it? 
I’m not a doctor and I can’t answer that. Stopping medication suddenly and without medical supervision can be dangerous - if you are having issues with your medication, you need to speak to a doctor about it as soon as possible. 
I want to be a psychologist! How do I do that? 
I’ve answered this question pretty extensively a couple of times, but the answer boils down to this: get the best GPA you possibly can, get as much research experience as possible, take lots of stats classes, register for the GRE early, do lots of research on graduate programs, and don’t be disappointed if it takes you a few years to get in.  I think that covers most of my Frequently Asked Questions! If you have anything else that you’d like to know, leave it in the replies to this post, or send it in as an ask! Here’s to 1000 more posts!
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ladyloveandjustice · 6 years
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My Patreon has officially been launched!
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My Patreon is now UP! Visit it here.  
There’s a lot of exciting things about this Patreon and a lot of awesome rewards can you get! If we reach the goal of $200, ALL my patrons up to that point can receive a graphic novel, manga or comic grab-bag of their choice from my massive personal collection. I’ll send you the list of what’s available and you’ll be able to choose what you want (first come, first serve). 
And you donate just $1, not only do you support me and win my eternal gratitude, you get to vote on a monthly one-hour liveblog and get access to a special Discord!
That’s just scratching the surface of the rewards you can get. All the tiers are included in the About page, but I’m also going to list them on this post.
But first, I really, really ask that even if you can’t donate to the Patreon, you reblog and signal boost this post. My new house is gonna cost a lot, and I really need your support to keep doing what I’m doing.
Also, don’t worry. None of this will affect the liveblogs I do on a whim, for free, or the other content I provide. The blog really won’t change other than featuring MORE content.
Now! Here's everything you need to know about my Patreon:
I'm Caitlin, also known as Nev or ladyloveandjustice. Check out my writing website for all of my credentials. People have shown interest in actually paying for liveblogs and I'm moving into a new house that's pretty expensive, so I figured I'd try this out. I've got this awesome banner made for me by spectralreplica and everything! At this stage, everything is highly experimental and open for negotiation and suggestion. I will explain each tier and how it will work in detail. The One Dollar Tier: Here Comes Justice
You not only get access to the Discord, but you can nominate and vote on a monthly liveblog of 1-2 hours EVERY month. Anything you can think of, I'm up for it. The Five Dollar Tier: The Love and Justice League!
All the $1 stuff, plus the secret blog. The secret blog is a really fun idea for me and honestly, what exactly it is will be up to you guys. I'd definitely love a place to share previews of my novel and complete short stories I've written and get input. It could also be a space where it's safe to talk about anything and everything without fearing trolls. I could maybe even talk about personal things a little more. We could do weekly updates on media I'm/we're all consuming, I could take pictures of Kero, whatever. But really, that's up to the people shelling out the cash. I'm willing to take suggestions and make this blog whatever you want it to be, I'd answer asks on this blog ASAP, since there'd be less people.
When you choose this tier, you’ll be able to access a post on my Patreon that links to the blog and gives the password. Currently, I have my latest short story up there.
The Twelve Dollar Tier: Feel So Justice
Included the $1 and $5 rewards AND you can request a one-hour liveblog once a month. It's whatever you want. I will contact you immediately about the scheduling of the liveblog- we can either talk it over on the Discord, or I can give you my email address through Discord or Tumblr and we can talk it over through mail. You can request a time for the liveblog, and I'll see if I can do it. You can also give me any specific instructions about the liveblog you want- things to focus on and so on. You can even request whether it be on my main tumblr or the secret blog. Another option you can request once a month is a 500 word story, post or article on anything you desire, within reason. Like with the liveblogs, we can discuss the details over Discord or my email. Also another cool option- you may not know this about me, but I've been a bonafide professional editor! I also have a Masters in Writing. I really enjoy editing, so I would absolutely be willing to review and edit a 500 word original story or fic for this tier- line edits and detailed feedback included! It will be a proper critique. The Twenty Dollar Tier: I Do Justice
This is an upgrade of the twelve dollar tier. Now you can request two-hour liveblogs once a month, or two one-hour liveblogs. I can do stories, posts and listicles of up to 1000 words and I will critique 1000 word stories with line edits. It's double the content at LESS than double the prince! Like with the twelve dollar tier, we'll use email or Discord to nail down the details. There's an additional option for this tier as well- once a month, you can request a full fanmix (10-15 songs) with my nerdy annotations and even a cover. The Thirty-Five Dollar Tier: My Heart of Justice Burns at a Million Degrees!
An upgrade of the twenty dollar tier. Now you can request a three-hour liveblog (or three one-hour liveblogs). You can request articles, stories and listicles of up to 1500 words and I can critique a 1500 word story. Like with the twelve dollar tier, we'll use email or Discord to nail down the details. But! There's another option! You can ask for an in-depth overview (in the style of my Anime Overviews) of up to 12-13 episodes of a TV show! Or up to 20 chapters of a manga. Alternately, if it's something I've already seen, it doesn't matter how long it is, you can just request an overview. However, the overview will only be 1500 words. The final option is a one- minute AMV of whatever you want! The Fifty Dollar Tier: What turns YOU on, Princess? JUSTICE.
Wow, you think I'm worth THAT much? Weird. Anyway, this will get you either a five-hour liveblog or you can request up to 13 episodes of a series/up to thirty-five chapters of a manga and I will liveblog them in-depth no matter how long it takes. Alternately, I will do an overview of up to 30 episodes of a series or 50 chapters of a manga. If it's something I've already seen, it doesn't matter how long it is and I can give you 3000 words. Another option is an episode-by-episode breakdown (in the style of my Utena reviews) of up to ten episodes for this price. Heck, I could even do a video review for you, or some kind of other video. It might be a disaster since I'm new to that, but I'll give it my best shot and make it as good and visually pleasing as I can. Another option is a full AMV! Doesn't matter what show or song! Doesn't matter how long it takes. You can also request I read and review your entire novel. Doesn't matter how long it is. I'll give you about 1000 words of feedback (but no line edits). Basically for this tier, think of a request that sounds reasonable for the price and I can probably do it. Like with the other tiers, we can nail down the details through discord or email. The One Hundred Dollar Tier: Everybody Loves Justice.
I'm not really expecting anyone to do this, but just in case. If you do this tier, I'll just straight up liveblog an entire TV show, manga or series. It doesn't matter how long it is. I'll do it. In depth. Over time. Any other extravagant request you can think of is also up for negotiation. Do you want me to line-edit your novel? Do you want an AMV series? A video series? A big bunch of episode breakdowns? Come at me, I'll probably be able to do it.
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embklitzke · 7 years
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Just a little taste (reblog from Patreon)
Just to give everyone a little taste of what I do as a writer and what people can expect out of me at various levels of patronage, I thought I'd provide some examples from a couple of works in progress from a couple different universes.
As a general rule, I write speculative fiction--urban fantasy, science fiction, post-apocalyptic fiction, space operas, traditional sword and sorcery fantasy, and supernatural stories, all of which are sometimes layered in with other genres such as horror, thriller, and romance.
My website has a little breakdown of things people might like that's based on my publishedwork, but around here, what you'll be able to catch a glimpse of as a patron is unpublished work--or pre-publication work, as the case may often be.  I won't replicate that here unless someone tells me that it's necessary--in which case you'll see an update to that effect.
Below are examples of a scene and a chapter, both of which are available to patrons at different levels of monthly patronage.  In the future, these will only be viewable by patrons, but these examples are free for the sake of demonstration.
Scene from UNSETIC Files: Lost and Found - urban fantasy
 The location Ezecaius said he needed to get to was just south of the Loop, near enough to Columbia College’s campus that Dr. Ford had asked me to drop him off well before I got Ezecaius to the address—as if Adam knew that I was planning on going to headquarters after I dropped his friend off at his destination. Ezecaius, for his part, stared quietly out of the window, a strange, not quite disconcerting smile on his face.
It was a few minutes of sitting in traffic after dropping off Dr. Ford before I finally asked, “So what do you teach, again?” I tacked on the “again” as an afterthought, struggling to remember if Adam had actually told me in the first place what Ezecaius’s specialization was. It had already been a long morning on top of a long last 72 hours.
“Oh, a few different things,” he said, almost airily. “International law, human rights, foreign policy—all of that and a few more besides.” He smirked, finally looking sidelong at me. “Why, are you thinking about a change in profession, Dr. McConaway?”
“No, no,” I said quickly, fingers tightening on the steering wheel as I swallowed a sudden attack of nerves. God knew that I was doing more than a little diplomacy these days whenever Kate and I went across, but I sure as hell didn’t have much of a desire to change my specialization at this point. “I was just curious, that’s all. I sometimes like to know who I’m driving.”
“And Adam has unusual friends.”
The grin was in his voice as he spoke.
“That too,” I agreed, smiling myself. I found myself wanting to like him, this eccentric man my friend and mentor had saddled me with. “How did you two meet, anyway?” Ezecaius had at least a decade or more on Ford and clearly hadn’t been one of his professors, since as far as I knew, all of Ford’s work—undergraduate and graduate—had been in anthropology, archaeology, and linguistics, not anything to do with foreign relations or international law.
“Ah. It was during his brief stint at State.”
It took a second for me to realize what he meant. “Wait, the State Department? I didn’t know that he worked for the State Department.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, shooting me another crooked smile. “His tenure was rather short-lived and that was probably a good thing. He’d been brought in as an expert to help prepare an ambassador for an upcoming assignment—cultural briefings, map reviews, historical briefs, language training, that sort of mess. He and the ambassador didn’t exactly hit it off and honestly, I could see that from the second they shook hands. I was the one doing the political and intelligence briefs and if I’d had my choice, that particular ambassador wouldn’t have been going where they were going to send him in the first place.”
“Let me guess,” I said as I steered the car around a corner, freeing us from the glut of traffic that was already clogging Michigan Avenue. “Adam had a knock-down, drag-out with the ambassador in question and told someone to shove his State Department credentials where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Ezecaius laughed. “You know him well.”
“Just a bit.” I was grinning now. “Am I right?”
“He would have if I hadn’t stopped him. I reminded him that he might need State someday and convinced him to finish out the job, which he did, though he was very sure he was going to resort to violence by the end of it.”
“But he didn’t?”
“No, he didn’t.” Ezecaius smiled faintly and shook his head. “He finished it off, wrote an assessment of his experience with the ambassador, and turned that assessment in with his resignation.”
“And then what?”
“Well, I imagine you know the rest. He did a few semesters of teaching here and there out East, did a few digs under the auspices of his alma mater and a few other institutions, and then finally landed here in Chicago in time to run into a rather promising young graduate student he was blessed to take under his wing even as he was learning to fly.”
My cheeks got warm. “You’re not—”
“Adam thinks quite highly of you, Dr. McConaway. I don’t think you realize how highly.”
“Maybe not,” I admitted, then exhaled in a sigh. “Honestly, it never really crossed my mind.”
“Perhaps it’s a thing you should give some thought to.” He looked away from me and out the window. “Ah. This should be close enough.”
I blinked, glancing at the row of buildings to the left and right of the car. “Are you sure?” I asked. “You’ll still need to—”
“To walk a little way, I know. It’s all right. I’ll manage.” He smiled at me. “Thank you for the ride, Dr. McConaway. Perhaps you’ll join Adam and Marie and I for dinner tonight?”
“Probably not,” I said as I pulled over and shifted the car into neutral. “But thank you for the offer.”
“Of course.” He didn’t wait for me to get out to open the door for him, just checked the street for oncoming traffic and then got out of the car. He opened the rear passenger door to pull out his overnight bag, slinging it over his shoulder with more grace and practiced ease than I admittedly expected from him.
“Professor?”
He tilted his head, peering at me through the open door. “Yes?”
“The ambassador,” I said. “Did they end up sending him anyway?”
Ezecaius laughed. “No. No, they didn’t, much to Adam’s relief. Mine, too.” He closed the door, still smiling. “Good luck, Doctor.”
He winked at me and then turned away. He took a pair of steps before vanishing from sight.
“Fuck me,” I whispered, staring at the spot where he’d just been. There was no sense of magic in the air, but I knew damned well that magic wasn’t the only game in town.
“Adam really does have interesting friends,” I whispered to no one.
I waited a few minutes more, just to see if perhaps Ezecaius would reappear. He didn’t, and I gave up on waiting. I shifted the car into gear, trying not to worry too much about what had just happened.
Maybe I should have agreed to dinner.
Too late now.
Chapter from The General's Lady - science fiction/romance
“That’s three,” Graden rumbled. “Your father should be more than a little pleased, I hope.”
The promenade of Argossa II’s capital, Triskelle, was littered with the remnants of battle, haunted by its ghosts. It stank of death and fear. He was accustomed to both but enjoyed neither.
“In record time, too,” Arlan murmured, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. The city had surrendered and been reported secure by the second infantry division, but one could never be too careful, as they’d both learned the hard way time and again. “More costly than anticipated, though.”
Graden shook his head. “Your father wanted haste and damn the consequences. He got what he wanted.” At the cost of a ship and seven hundred dead or wounded on our side alone. Three additional ships damaged. Bastard doesn’t think of the human cost of war sometimes. Star-Lord Camden hadn’t been on the battlefield for two generations, though. He’d forgotten what war was like. “At least he has so far. We’ll need to resupply and lick our wounds before we can hit Talrena.”
Arlan shook his head. “He won’t be happy to hear that, but I’ll make him understand.” He rubbed his temple. “Of course, it’s going to mean another twelve rounds over when I’m going to give up soldiering.”
“Fine, I’ll tell him, then. We’ll have a shouting match and he’ll try to demote me, then I’ll remind him that he can’t because our men won’t follow anyone else.” Graden smiled wryly. “Except for maybe you, but that would just end with a few more rounds, wouldn’t it?”
Two soldiers snapped to attention as they passed through the gates to the governor’s mansion, set on a hill above the sprawling city. The place was silent as a tomb. Graden waved the men back to their duties as he and Arlan continued on.
“Has he bothered to name succession?” Graden asked suddenly. “Your father. He’s getting on, isn’t he?”
“He’d like to,” Arlan said, brow creasing and lips thinning. “But he said that he won’t do it until he knows he won’t have to meddle with it again. ‘Once and never again,’ he told me when we discussed it last.” Arlan blew out a breath between his teeth and shook his head. “He won’t name succession until I’ve given up soldiering and I won’t give up service until there’s peace enough in the galaxy that we’re not fighting new battles every day. Once our borders are secure, I think maybe I could give it up. Of course, we’ll have to convince him that the borders are secure at some point.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a vicious, never-ending cycle, Mike. He wants me to give up the fight but at the same time he keeps throwing us back into the fray.”
“It’s not as if House Harper can do the fighting for us out here,” Graden said. “Though I think we may have to ask for their assistance if Star-Lord Camden wants us to move immediately on our next target.”
“Johnathan Harper won’t agree to it.”
“Your father will just have to put his diplomatic skills to good use and damned fast, then, because I don’t know that we can take Talrena with our division in the shape it’s in.” We might pull it off, but not without getting thoroughly bloodied in the doing. It won’t be pretty, for us or the people of Talrena. “We’ll have to see. Maybe if I lay things out using small words and a lot of pictures, Star-Lord Camden will understand what I’m trying to tell him about the disposition of our troops.” Graden pushed open the doors to the grand entry hall to the governor’s palace and paused for a moment on the threshold. Banners hung tattered from the rafters and blood smeared the floor in some places.
“Damn,” Graden muttered. “I didn’t realize there was fighting in here, too.”
“It was everywhere,” Arlan said quietly, gaze scything across the scraped marble floors and ripped tapestries, toppled statuary. “There wasn’t a safe place to be found, not even here.”
Graden felt a brief tightness in his chest. “The governor here, did he have a wife? Children?”
“He surrendered before any harm came to them,” Arlan said quietly. “I’m sure Star-Lord Camden will allow them to retire somewhere sufficiently out of the way, I hope."
One can only hope. Graden nodded slowly.
Arlan clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s not all bad news, Mike. Some good came of all this death and destruction.”
“You mean beyond your father gaining three more worlds?” Graden asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Our borders may be vaguely more secure with the taking of the trio, but can we maintain our grip in the long run? I’m not so sure. “Tell me what it is, Ar, because I sure as hell don’t see it.”
Arlan reached into a pocket and passed him a data stick. “Remember that derelict courier we came across on the edge of the system? I cracked the encryptions.”
Graden shook his head, taking the stick. “And you thought you’d never use that training ever again. What’d you find out?”
“Well, she was coming back from the Arm when she got chewed up, for one thing. Data’s about two years out of date.”
He stopped in mid-stride. “We don’t have anything from the Scandian Arm dating back to that period of the war.”
“No sir, not until we found that courier.”
That was a military courier. It would have been carrying information back to Command—and failing Command, it would have brought that information to the highest-ranking survivor of the Star Corps. Troop disposition, status reports, requests for aid, classified information—a goddamned treasure-trove for anyone that came across it. We’re lucky that the crew didn’t have time to wipe their drives before they died. Graden found himself short of breath, light-headed. His voice came as a hoarse whisper. “Did it…did it have anything about…?”
“I didn’t read much of anything, just enough to know what we were looking at.” Arlan gave him a long, hard look, then continued. “But I ran it through some search algorithms and flagged everything I could find about the Eagles, Mike. It was the least I could do. Other than, you know, finish up all the formalities so you can take a few hours to have a look at what’s on there.”
Graden had to take a few breaths before he could answer. “Thanks, Ar.”
“Anytime.” He squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “I hope it’s good news.”
So do I. Graden nodded, staring at the stick, then turned and walked away.
• •  •
Fifty-second Battalion, designated Eagles, attacked on Talrena…estimate only ten to thirty survived assault…no word on disposition of those who escaped…list of dead appended…
Graden closed his eyes as tears blurred his vision. He felt a momentary flash of gratitude to Arlan for taking over today but at the same time felt anger begin to bubble up. It was irrational. His XO didn’t know exactly what was on the stick, just that there was information on the Eagles—on Laney.
He couldn’t have known. Graden pressed his fist to his brow, teeth grinding. “Damn. Damn!”
He suppressed the urge to fling the tablet across the room, though barely. Instead he pounded a fist against the edge of the table, splitting a knuckle. He growled quietly and slumped back in his chair, staring out the window. This room overlooked the gardens in the governor’s palace, brown and dead at the trailing edge of winter.
“I always thought she was probably dead,” he muttered to nobody. “But there was always just this little part of me that dared to hope that she wasn’t.” He pounded his fist against the table again.
Maybe there’s something about them escaping in a later report. That wasn’t the last file flagged, was it? He forced his attention back to the tablet. His hands felt like leaden weights as he scrolled through the files. It felt like an eternity before he found the next file Arlan had flagged for him.
Graden closed his eyes as he tapped the file open, heart feeling like a ball of ice in his chest. The Arm was supposed to be a fucking safe assignment. All the fighting was going on elsewhere. I got her that assignment. I should have taken it myself.
Why? So she could stay at Mialos and die with everyone else?
He barely stopped himself from punching the table again.
Words glowed at him on the tablet’s screen as he opened his eyes. His hands squeezed into fists, blood flowing freely from his split knuckle. He ignored it.
--have not located the bodies of twenty-three members of the fifty-second Eagles, including commanding officer Maj. E. E. Harris. Unconfirmed reports have at least twelve, including Harris, were captured by rogue officer Maj. Travis Delmarco and transported elsewhere in the Arm. We are working to confirm these reports and will advise ASAP.
“Bastards.” The word hissed out before he was conscious of saying it. Damn them all. Damn them.
He started searching for the next file. The news didn’t get any better from there.
Command, be advised we have confirmed that the following eighteen members of the fifty-second Eagles have been captured by the rebellious House Delmarco and are presumed deceased en route to Corvaris.
Her name was at the top of the list.
This time, he did throw the tablet against the wall.
He left it in shards on the floor as he stormed out of the room, down the corridor and the stairs, bellowing at the top of his lungs. “Commander Byers!”
Three shouts later, Arlan materialized, looking slightly overwrought himself. “General?”
“How long before we’re refueled?” Graden demanded.
Arlan rocked back against his heels, blinking rapidly. “I—what?”
“How long before we’re refueled?” Graden asked again, the words grating through a set jaw and gritted teeth. “When can we ship out for Talrena?”
“I was just explaining to Star-Lord Camden tha—”
“Forget it,” Graden snapped. “We leave as soon as we’re fueled. Recall everyone. Leave the wounded and a skeleton garrison here. They can catch up with us once the Star-Lord’s occupation forces arrive.” He started walking, heading toward the doors out of the godforsaken manse and into the weak winter sunshine. Arlan had to scramble to keep up.
“Mike, what’s wrong?”
“They killed her, Ar. That’s what’s wrong. Now they have to pay.”
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