#Baby Boy is named Bob purely because of Baby On Board

[redfurrycat]

🤠👶🏾🐓 Life as We Know It AU🤠👶🏾🐓

Jake Seresin is the owner of a small but successful bakery, and Bradley Bradshaw is a promising television technical sports director for the San Diego *whatever sports team*.

A few years ago, they were set up by their navy pilot best friends, Natasha Trace and Javy Machado, on a blind date that went so terribly wrong they vowed to hate the other forever and never see each other again.

Or not…because their best friends got married and had a beautiful baby boy, Bob (named after Nat’s WSO, of course). They also chose Bradley and Jake to be their son’s godparents.

Unfortunately, Bobby becomes an orphan at the tender age of one as his parents both die on a secret mission. While they grieve for their best friends, Jake and Bradley learn their friends named them Bob's joint guardians. After finding that none of Natasha and Javy’s relatives are fit to take care of their son, Jake and Bradley put their differences aside and move into their godson's family home.

It seems living together in their deceased friends’ home while raising their son and working full time is quite the challenge for Bradley and Jake. Especially when a Child Protective Services caseworker, Beau Simpson, is assigned to their case to see if they are fit to be Bob’s parents. To add a bit of drama, the two men start to mutually-idiotically pine for one another, and there is also a handsome doctor who is very eager to seduce Jake and happens to be Bob’s pediatrician too…

[kaiso-woo]

I Already Have Seven...

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-> Masterlist

PART 15 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 5.1k | Synopsis: The end of Stay Series. It's been a journey guys. I'm gonna cry.

Chris + Reader Minho + Jinhee Jisung + Suhwa Changbin + Kirsten Hyunjin + Soraya Seungmin + Yeonjoo Jeongin + Ashley Felix + Hailey

Notes: Fluff, FLUFF, FLUFFFFFFF + CHILDREN, Established Relationships (Everywhere) Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Pet Names (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love... etc.)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

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Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition.

PART 15

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

--

It’s been about a month since Christmas, and true to everyone’s agreement, the next family gathering was to be at Felix’s place. Despite his protests and attempts to change the location of the monthly meeting, the plan went ahead. At varying times around 10.00am the Skz Family pulled up in their cars, carrying food and entertainment such as board games and other bits and bobs.

Felix’s face disappeared from his window and he sprinted to his front door, flinging it wide open with a dashing grin to welcome Changbin and Kirsten inside. “Hey Yongbok! How’s your girl?” Changbin teased and Felix slammed the door in his face. There was none of course. No one yet.

“You can stay outside till everyone else gets here now,” Felix huffs, locking the door swiftly. “Yah! Yongbok!” Changbin yelled, knocking rapidly on the door. Kirsten grabbed his arm and shook her head, “It’s your own fault Bin.”

Eventually, the rest of the Skz Family had pooled around outside, mingling and laughing with each other per usual, trying to wring details out of Ashley and Jeongin for their wedding; “no spoilers.”

Much to everyone’s surprise, you and Chris were the last to arrive, laden with an unnecessary load of Tim Tams. “Look if we’re going to be at Felix’s place, then Tim Tam’s are a must,” Chris jokes, chucking a packet to Hyunjin. “You have no idea how dead set he was on getting these - such a pain in the ass,” you grumble as Chris abandons you to greet his boys.

“Do they even sell them here?” Suhwa (Jisung’s gf) asks, ripping open a packet in curiosity and taking an experimental nibble, “Ooh, these aren’t bad.” “What do you mean, ‘aren’t bad’? Tim Tam’s are my religion,” Ashley giggles, taking a packet for herself.

Yeonjoo (Seungmin’s), pipes up from beside your shoulder, “Did you get them from that one international store?” “You bet. Christopher bought every last one.” “Ooh, that place is great, I go there all the time,” she smiles, gratefully accepting the packet you hand over to her.

Normally, you would have argued with Chris that buying every single packet was excessive, but for one thing, he probably missed the sweet treat, and two… maybe you were craving them as well.

Finally, Felix opens the door again, this time with an oven mitt on his hand. Clearly he’s been baking something. “Everyone here? Good, because my apple pies have just finished baking and they taste better when they’re hot.” “You got ice cream in your freezer?” “Probably.” “Probably? How do you not-” “I might have eaten it all.”

“How has Felix not snagged a women yet? All this baking is enough to win anyone over.” “You don’t snag women.” “That’s not my point! Can you not smell the pies?” “Smells like heaven.”

“You’re heaven.” “No, I’m hell.” “Jinhee’s hell, not you.” “And what, Minho’s Satan?” “Was that sexual innuendo intentional or is my mind just fucked?” “Your mind is fucked.” “Nice to know.” “You’re welcome.”

Chris has already slipped into the house, pulling Felix into a one armed hug before standing by the doorway to help usher people in. “Oh shoot,” you whisper, just as you’re about to follow the train line spilling into Felix’s humble abode, “Soraya, tell everyone I’ll be with you all in a second; I left my phone in the car.” She nods and without another word, you swivel on your heel and march back along the path to your car.

Since you were the last couple to arrive, naturally your parking was a little further away. In hindsight, this trip back to your car was absolutely worth it, because the next moments were to be the happiest of your life to date.

--

Chris performs a headcount as the Skz Family filtered through, his smile wide as he greets everyone he hadn’t gotten around to yet. “Thirteen… fourteen…” he murmurs, as Hyunjin and Soraya walk in together. You haven’t walked in yet, and he frowns as he pokes his head around the door, searching for you. “She left her phone in the car,” Soraya grins, grabbing onto Hyunjin’s shoulders so he could drag her along.

“Were you counting us?” Hyunjin laughs, placing his hands on top of Soraya’s happily. “You didn’t know he did that? There’s so many of us, I’d be more surprised if he didn’t,” Felix interjects, bemused, his voice as deep and resonating as usual.

“Yongbok! Are you cutting these pies up or am I?” Jisung yells, and from the way there’s an explosion of chatter from the kitchen, Chris can tell everyone is just as eager to try some.

Felix shakes his head and disappears down his hallway, serenaded by obnoxious cheers and chanting of his name as he joins the others. “So… technically, there’s sixteen members of the Skz Family now?” Hyunjin asks, continuing his conversation even after Felix has left.

Chris and Soraya both frown, mentally trying to count everyone. “There’s only fifteen of us. Sixteen when Felix finds someone,” Soraya points out, but her eyes dramatically widen in realisation.

“No there’s sixteen,” Hyunjin insists, “Technically.” Soraya pinches his shoulder then, causing the man to yelp in surprise, “I’m right though!”

“Hyunjin, I’ve been counting heads ever since we debuted, I’m pretty sure there’s only fifteen of us. There’s just Y/N left,” Chris chuckles, swinging the door shut slightly out of polite habit. He would open it for you once he saw you nearby.

“That’s why it’s technically because she counts for two,” Hyunjin elaborates and at this, Soraya yanks on his pony tail slightly. “Shush Hyunjin- he doesn’t know yet-” she hisses, kneeing him in the ass and encouraging him to move onwards quickly.

“Why wouldn’t he know? Isn’t he the first person she’d tell?” Hyunjin rambles, his hands flailing about in a panic. “Did you listen to a word I said yesterday?” “If you were telling me this while I was trying to paint you gardening then I was most definitely not listening.” “I told you during dinner, idiot.” “You said to not congratulate him yet- not that- oh.”

Chris’ heart has stopped working. He can feel his chest constrict tightly, and his breath cease to exist. You count… for two? In a daze, Chris’ hand disappears from the door knob, leaving the door still slightly open, and he drifts down the hallway.

When he appears in the kitchen, Felix is still busy dishing out the apple pie, and Soraya is whisper-yelling at Hyunjin for his stupidity. In a rare moment of silence since everyone’s mouths are full of food, Chris doesn’t struggle to have his question heard.

“Do you mean to tell me… that my wife is pregnant?” He croaks, standing with his hands stiff to his sides. All at once, heads whip around to stare in shock at Chris, and it doesn’t take a genius to confirm this statement. Their expressions melt from surprise, to panic in seconds.

“And you all knew…?” Chris finishes, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Okay so who the fuck couldn’t keep their mouth shut?” “In my defence- I didn’t know he didn’t know-” “I told you. Loud and clear!” “Hyunjin!! You’re really asking for a slipper to your head.” “I get why he was part of Paboracha now.” “What do you mean was he still is.”

This was what you walked into as you let yourself inside Felix’s house, peering out from behind your husband and frowning at the noise. “What’s going on here? You left the front door open.”

The silence after your statement is profound, and you take in the guilty expressions of the Skz Family, and then finally the stiff posture of Chris with his back turned to you.

You tap him on the shoulder and he swivels slowly to face you, staring hard, his mouth a thin line. “Are they lying to me?” He asks, and your mouth slowly opens in understanding, a breathy chuckle escaping your lips. Someone’s let it slip.

“That would be quite the elaborate lie,” you grin, casually strolling past Chris and picking up a plate of apple pie. “Yeobo,” Chris groans, rubbing his face in his hands and trailing after you, “I want a proper answer.” 

You can feel the excited tension in the room, fizzling from one person to the next as you munch on Felix’s apple pie, eyeing your husband from head to toe. It’s all you can do to stop yourself from grinning like there’s no tomorrow.

“Y/N are you fucking pregnant or-” Chris begins, and with a cheeky giggle, you interrupt him. “Yes Christopher. I am carrying your child.”

If he wasn’t frozen before, he certainly is now. His hand is stuck in his hair, mid-way through brushing it in frustration, his eyes are wide and shimmering, and his mouth is parted in a permanent ‘oh’. Finally, he breathes out two whispered words, “Holy fuck.”

The rampant yells make you flinch, and you almost drop your delicious plate of apple pie. You’d think they were celebrating the world being saved from an impending doom with how loud and celebratory the Skz Family was being. You watch in amusement as they dance around each other, shaking you and congratulating Chris obnoxiously.

“Holy fuck,” Chris repeats, suddenly moving and pacing around in a state of shock, both his hands in his hair, “Holy- Jesus fuck.” Chris turns back to stare at you, and at your grin, it’s like the life is breathed back into him.

“You’re pregnant?!” He yells and when you laugh and nod, he disappears into another room, but you can still hear him yell in disbelief, “You’re fucking pregnant? Since when were you pregnant? Holy shit.” 

Chris returns in view, and his pace is suddenly more frantic. “Are you serious?” He grins, from over by the couch, but you don’t even get a chance to respond. The delirious joy that has broken onto his face is a sight to behold as he sits down onto the coffee table, squishing the sides of his face.

“This isn’t a dream, yeah? I’m awake right?” He asks, standing back up in seconds and dashing over to you. “You’re pregnant? You’re carrying a child. You’re carrying our child,” he asks, clutching your face and kissing you roughly.

“Yes, honey. I am carrying our child,” you laugh, pulling yourself away from him so you can breathe. And he’s gone again, disappeared back out into the hallway, yelling to himself. You watch in a complete state of bliss as he reappears and scoops you into a joyous hug, twirling you around. Thankfully you had put your plate down, your intuition telling you that it would be dangerous to keep it on you with him in this state.

“You’re gonna be a Mum!” Chris laughs, kissing you with your face between his hands again, “We’re having a kid- you’re gonna be a Mum- I’m gonna be a Dad-“ he breathes, his voice dying in his throat with his forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m gonna be a Dad,” he repeats, his eyes wide as they drill into your own. Chris suddenly sinks to the floor, his hands trailing the shape of your body as if you’re guiding him down. “I’m gonna be… a Dad,” this time, when he repeats it, it’s like the realisation has properly sunk in. 

You drag your fingers soothingly through his hair to try and shake him out of it, but he merely continues to stare at your feet. “You okay?” You ask him, bobbing down to meet his eye level.

“Fuck if that isn’t the scariest thing I’ve ever said in my entire life,” Chris whispers, and you’re startled to see his eyes shimmering with tears, “I’m gonna be a Dad.” “You already are a Dad.”  “Yeah you raised us!” “Best Leader! Best Leader!” “Best Dad! Wait that doesn’t have the same ring to it…” “Best Father?” “Hey that works!” “Best Father! Best Father! Best Father!”

Chris lets his tears trickle down his cheek, and he reaches for you blindly, pulling you into a hug on the floor as he cries his tears of joy into your neck. “Thank you,” he whispers, kissing you wherever he can, “Thank you so fucking much.”

“Why are you thanking me? You put this kid here,” you grin, hugging him tightly. Chris pulls away in disbelief, his arms still snug around you, his eyes crinkled with an undeniable joy.

“Thank you for loving me.”

--

Your reason for telling the Skz Family and not your husband first? Because for the rest of the day, Chris refused to let you lift a finger; because for the next few weeks, he’d refuse to let you cook a single thing; because for the next few months Chris would consistently pout and try his hardest to make your defences cave when you tried to do chores. That was on him. He was doing those. Please let me do the dishes? Please? “I’ll actually get on my knees and beg.” “Chris - I am not fragile, I can still do chores.” “Please?” “Christopher.” “You should be resting~ Are you drinking enough water? Craving anything? Please let me do the dishes. Please, honey?” “I never thought I’d say this, but stop saying please.”

--

You’re woken abruptly from your peaceful slumber, arms wrapped around Chris’ chest, by a heavy weight crash landing into you. Immediately your brain kickstarts itself into defence mode, burying yourself under the covers and inadvertently suffocating Chris too. You sense two of them, two little munchkins bouncing on the bed.

“Aughhhh,” Chris wheezes, clutching his stomach and poking his head out of the duvet, “You hurt Dad.” Someone wriggles under the blankets between you, and you kiss his forehead affectionately with a smile. “Good morning Cameron… how was your sleep?” You ask him, his big brown eyes wide under the covers.

“Fantastic! Now get up!” He nips, pressing his face to yours impatiently. “Juni- Juniper- sweetie, I can’t breathe,” Chris coughs, his arms jolting out of the blankets to hoist the youngest off his stomach. The little one had been having some fun using her Dad as a mini trampoline.

“Dad~ let’s go~ I want to play with Uncle Fewix!” She giggles, slinging her arms around Chris’ neck as he tumbles out of bed, carrying her.

Cameron kicks the covers off the pair of you, nodding his head excitedly, “Yeah, Uncle Felix is down at the beach already! And Minsung Uncle’s are cooking breakfast on the barbecue!!”

“Juni… where’d you put your hat?” You ask, crawling out of bed and rummaging through the drawer full of her clothes. “I’ve got it. Here.” Someone’s arm waves briefly at the doorframe, showcasing the hat before it disappears again.

“Alex, have you seen my sunnies?” Chris yells to the eldest son, the one who had only bothered to show his arm. This time, he pokes his head around and points towards the window which overlooks the beach. “If you squint hard enough, you’ll notice that Uncle Minho is borrowing them,” he grins, flashing his dimples. Mr Steal Your Girl 2.0.

Chris quite literally throws Juniper onto the bed, making her scream in delight, and tackles Cameron with a brief tickle at his ribs before turning away to find a pair of board shorts. You’ve managed to change into a bikini already, fastening your pace at the insistence of your younger son. 

“Where’s my-” “If you’re looking for your beach dress it’s on the couch!” Alex yells suddenly, and you smile in disbelief. That kid.

--

You’re braiding your hair in the bathroom when Chris bursts in and slams the door. You look at him surprise, but he only places a gentle finger to his lips and winks.

“Where’s Dad? CamCam~ did you see Dad?” Juniper pouts, talking on the other side of the door with her slightly older brother. “No? Where is he? Have you seen Mum? They’re taking too long.”

Chris’ grin is manic as he flings open the bathroom door and roars, his hands poised in the air like a lion, scaring the absolute shit out of the two kids. Juniper screams and dives for the bed, but little Cameron, after getting over his initial fright, raises his fists and glares at his Dad.

“You wanna fight me old man? Come on,” he boldly declares, and Chris pretends to crack his neck. “Did you become Seungmin’s student? You’re on you little ratbag,” he laughs, raising his own fists and bouncing around playfully, “Go on, show me what you’ve got.”

You watch as the two dance around each other, Chris feinting punches and Cameron landing actual ones, to which your husband fakes serious injury. Juniper emerges after a while and helps with her tiny little kicks.  “Hey- hang on-” Chris dramatically gasps, “I can’t take two of you!!”

Alex walks into the room then, already shirtless and in board shorts. He swoops in and hoists his little sister onto his shoulders, smiling at her giggles. “Want me to get Dad?” He asks, his mischievous smirk emerging, and Chris holds his hands up in defence.

“Nahnahnahnah- foul play-” Chris yells, as the Alex-Juniper formation chases Chris out of the bedroom, Cameron hot on their heels, laughing his little head off.

It doesn’t take too long for Chris to return to the bathroom, having sent the kids down to the beach on their own to meet up with the Skz Family.

“Morning beautiful!” He smiles cheerfully, dragging a hand through his already sweaty hair before planting a firm kiss on the top of your head. “And good morning to you too,” you smile, sighing into his familiar embrace with his head on your shoulder, “You going for a swim?”

--

It’s currently Summer break, which meant the Skz Family had hauled away their suitcases and children to the vacation house collectively bought by them all. It’s quite literally like a getaway mansion, with more rooms than you can count, a swimming pool, theatre room, massive kitchen, outside kitchen, games room etc.

The best part however, is easily the fact that it’s backed straight onto the beach; walk out the front door and journey down the patio stairs and you’ve got sand between your toes. As you step out into the sun, Chris at your shoulder, also just as exposed as his eldest son, you smile at the wondrous sight before you.

Multiple families, which are basically just one big family, playing around and lounging under umbrellas by the water. Chris is watching your gaze, and he nudges you out of your reverie.

“We made it, hey?” He smiles, nonchalantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Mhm,” you hum, eyes sparkling as you wrap your own arm around his waist, “We did.”

All the Skz Members are married now. Even Felix. To everyone’s surprise, he was the 4th out of the group to marry, falling head over heels for Hailey and even producing their own daughter before anyone could blink. All had their own kids too, and plenty of pets. 

The dogs were having fun at the waters edge, gleefully fighting each other for the toys that a few of the kids were tossing into the water. The cats were lounging back under the patio, unwilling to go anywhere near the sand; most of them where Minho’s and Jinhee’s, well… mostly their daughter’s cats. 

Seungmin and Ashley were both reading a book on some beach chair’s, Yeonjoo right beside Seungmin munching on a slice of watermelon. Jeongin was sat on the sand in front of them, helping his youngest daughter Freya build a sandcastle, while Katy was searching for shells to decorate it. 

Felix has a whole hoard of children, young and older, chasing him with water guns up and down the beach. Meanwhile Jisung and Minho have managed to drag the barbecue down by the water and are busying themselves with breakfast. There are kids and adults swimming in the water, wives sunbathing. Two human’s are paddle boarding, some kayaking. 

You think you can see Changbin out on the jet-ski, towing some kids behind him on sea biscuits, their screams of joy… or terror, audible from where you’re standing. A little to the side, it looks like Hyunjin’s got an impromptu audience, as kids wander over (and adults, let’s be honest) to check up on his progression as he paints the ocean, his twin daughters trying to ‘photobomb’ the picture.

It’s chaos, but it’s home.

--

It’s indescribable, this joy, this happiness. Something that, unfortunately, very few actually experience; the complete satisfaction and contentment of knowing that if you died today, you’d have no regrets.

What about your kids? Oh, of course it would be tragic to leave them behind, but as you look around at Alex, who’s strumming his guitar and singing dutifully to a gaggle of kids who are practically his cousins; as you smile at Cameron, who’s racing a bunch of other kids in a makeshift hundred metre sprint along the sand; as your heart melts at Chris and Juniper, playing in the ocean… you know that even if you were to disappear, they’d be okay.

Your gaze focuses on Chris and your daughter, watching as he holds her below her armpits and spins her around in the water. “You ready to go under?” He asks playfully, wriggling her like a worm, “I’m gonna count okay?”

“You go with me!” She yells, kicking wildly as Chris pulls her completely out of the water, as high as he can toss her before catching her again.

“Alrighty, let’s go!” He exclaims, “Three! Two! ONE!!” - and they both disappear from sight, vanishing into the depths of the water. Juni resurfaces first, her Dad’s arms holding her up high, but Chris is still lost below the waves.

“Daaaaaad! Don’t drown!!” She squeals, kicking her little legs again. Chris bursts out with a gasp and hoists his daughter onto his shoulders, walking both of them over to you, “Have some watermelon with your Mum and Auntie Yeonjoo, yeah? Dad’s gonna go for a quick swim by himself, is that okay?” He laughs, while Juni tugs at his hair, pretending to direct his actions.

You hold your arms out for her and pop her onto your knee, accepting the offered watermelon from Yeonjoo and holding it up for Juniper to eat. “Anyone up for a race?” Chris calls, and Hyunjin throws his head back with a laugh, “A race? You know no one is going to beat you, Poseidon.”

“Oh well shame, you’re all getting into the water,” he grins back, diving for Minho and hoisting him over his shoulder. Minho’s face is of utter disappointment, accepting his sad fate of being dumped into the salty sea. Chris doesn’t have to drag the rest of the boys down. They follow, and Changbin pulls the jet ski to an abrupt stop close by, abandoning ship and leaving the kids he was towing to scream and yell in outrage at being left stranded.

They’re the older ones. They’ll survive.

You women gossip with each other while the men fool around in the sea, and as you watch them, it’s almost like the rest of the world doesn’t exist to them. It’s just them, the original family, enjoying their time together.

Chris is the last one to leave the water, the others eventually needing to retreat for a drink. He’s drifting with his back to the beach, the waves idly swaying him backwards and forwards. He’s lost in thought, you know this much, gaze consumed by the distant horizon and never-ending blue of the world. Juniper hops off your lap, having finished her slice of watermelon, and skips away to join her friends by the sandcastle Jeongin had made.

You take this rare opportunity to join Chris and disturb his time alone, slipping into the water and welcoming how refreshing it is against your skin.

--

Lauren, Felix’s eldest, plops herself down on the sand next to Alex, humming along to the tune he’s busying himself with on his guitar. The gathering he had earlier, dispersed, the little one’s getting bored and deciding it was time to annoy the aunt’s snoozing on some towels.

“I bet you my share of my Mum's cake for dessert tonight that your Mum is about to attempt to drown your Dad,” she prods, nodding her head towards you and Chris.

“Aunt Hailey made cake?” Alex asks, pausing his song to stare at his parents, “Sure - but if Mum sprints away and Dad chases after her, I get your share of tomorrow’s dessert too.” Lauren shrugs and begins to a dig a hole between her legs in the sand, “It’s a deal.”

Sure enough, you do just as Lauren predicted, using your element of surprise to quite literally jump onto Chris’ back and topple him face first into the water. Alex, as your own son, wins this bet though. In seconds you’ve sprinted away, diving into the water as fast as you can as Chris emerges, spluttering.

Hyunjin is absolutely right. You can’t out-swim Poseidon. 

Lauren sighs and fills her hole back in with sand, resting her chin on her hand, “How do we live up to that?” “Hm?” Alex questions, turning to look from his parents to the girl next to him. “Your parents, I mean. They’ve been together for how long, and they’re still so playful?”

Alex frowns and looks around for Felix and Hailey, Lauren’s parents. “Mate, have you seen your parents?” He laughs, strumming a random chord on his guitar.

Lauren’s nose scrunches in disdain, “They’re just cuddly 24/7. I want what your parents have.”  “You’re twelve, calm down,” Alex snorts with a raise of his eyebrows. “And you’re fourteen, your point?” She scoffs, kicking sand onto his feet.

“You have plenty of time. You think my parents got to where they are just like magic?” He elaborates, putting his guitar down carefully onto his lap. “Who knows?” Lauren shrugs, then changes the topic abruptly, “Are you training to become an idol?” Alex nods, “I have an audition soon.”

“How come none of us know? I only guessed because I see you practicing all the time,” Lauren asks, gesturing to borrow his guitar. After a second, she quietly begins to strum her own tune. “The adults know… but, I didn’t want to make the younger one’s sad.”

“And me? You weren’t planning on telling me? I’m basically your sister.” Alex shrugs, his eyes hawk-like as he watches her play, already analysing her technique for feedback, “You proved yourself that I didn’t need to. You figured it out eventually.”

“You’ve got some big shoes to fill,” Lauren smiles, turning back to watch you and Chris. Who knows since when, but you’re now sitting on his shoulders, wrestling with Suhwa sitting atop Jisung. “As if your Dad isn’t the Lee Felix.” 

“I’m not trying to be an idol,” Lauren recoils, nose scrunching, “There’s eight of them here already and you’re about to become another.” “Eight retired idols.” 

Both of them lapse into silence, staring out at the large pack of family members in thought. “Dad was worried about me wanting to be an idol, actually. He’s supportive, but he doesn’t want me to feel like I’m stuck in his shadow.”

“He has every right to be worried. For one thing, he’s your Dad. For another, just as my Dad is Lee Felix, your Dad is Bahng Christopher Chahn.” “Yeah but I’m Bahng Alexander Korain, and I can forge my own path.”

Lauren smiles at him then, and it’s this moment perhaps, that sets them both off on a journey to stardom. “And I’m Lee Lauren Seolhee, and maybe… I’ll forge my own path alongside you.”

--

There are many kids, and therefore there are many stories. As the author, I have complete creative liberty with them. Some may grow to be academic genius’, some to be athletic gods. Some might start up their own business. Some simply look to add to the Skz Family. What I chose to write about to finish this series however, is the beginning of the next journey.

This is simply because, as all proposed circle of life’s are, happiness comes and goes. It is spread, universally from one person to the other. And in this universe, where you and Chris have successfully achieved the peak happiness, and accomplished your dreams, the circle of life continues. Now it is the turn of Alex and Lauren, and all other kids of this generation to extend their happiness to others, to give just as Chris did, to love just as Skz did.

Alex and Lauren will eventually debut in the same experimental group. A combination of male and female idols in one overarching group. This group will co-produce songs and episodes, participate in promotions and schedules together, but also complete separate productions as sub-unit male and female groups.

Alex, debuting as A.K-Rain (forever undecided on A.K or Rain or K-Rain for short), will go on as the maknae and lead dancer of the male sub-unit, while Lauren, debuting as Seolhee, takes up the role as leader of the female sub-unit. The whole Skz Family will attend their first concert.

And as you look at Chris’ shining face, proud to the max, you’ll come to the conclusion, that you’d do it all over again - relive your relationship right from the beginning, just to see this very expression again on his face, in this moment.

You’ve done it. You made it. You both… made it.

--

And that my fellow readers, brings Stay Series to an official close.

Below is the full list of children I quite literally randomly generated (I lied I thought hard about them on a walk with my dog). I am aware, that most of them probably wouldn’t have an English name, but I am not Korean and my head was spinning with the effort of trying to figure it all out (who would and wouldn’t have an English name) and incorporate it into the writing - so I just gave everyone everything.

It’s not too important to be honest, but it felt necessary to invent them all. Felt complete. Please, just as a reminder, this does not represent Skz, I can’t predict the future idfk if they’ll have kids or not.

*ages during this particular fic

CHRIS + READER Bahng Alexander (Alex) Korain - Male, 14 Bahng Cameron (Cam) Daeshim - Male, 8 Bahng Juniper (Juni) Yeji - Female, 4

MINHO + JINHEE Lee Amelia Soo - Female, 11

FELIX + HAILEY Lee Lauren Seolhee - Female, 12 Lee Benjamin (Ben/Benji) Kunwoo - Male, 10

JISUNG + SUHWA Han Imogen (Immy) Hyerim - Female, 8 Han Jasper Joontae - Male, 5

CHANGBIN + KIRSTEN Seo Luis Beomsoo - Male, 9 Seo Nicole (Nicki) Yumi - Female, 6

HYUNJIN + SORAYA Twins!! Hwang Samara Yewon - Female, 11 Hwang Sophia (Soph) Yeonhee - Female, 11

SEUNGMIN + YEONJOO Kim Ethan Minjae - Male, 7

JEONGIN + ASHLEY Yang Katy Miyeon - Female, 10 Yang Freya Eunju - Female, 4

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> Parallels -> Masterlist

A/N: No more official updates :'), just bonuses left now. - Kaisowoo

[vixenpen]

You should DEFINITELY do a part 2 to the Dabi x teacher fic! Like it could be when they start taking their relationship to the next level and do some freaky things😏

Hot For Teacher pt.2 (Dabi x Black Reader)

Quirkless AU

(Friendly reminder in this Dabi owns a tattoo shop and is tatted and pierced up and reader is black and thiccccc🍑💦💦)

You were completely unaware of the turquoise eyes admiring your thick ass as you erased your last lesson from the white board.

Dabi’s dick flexed just imagining what sliding between those cheeks would feel like. The material of your conservative black dress clung to your juicy butt and round hips despite the loose material. He liked that.

After a while he couldn’t take it anymore and snuck up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pressing into you from the back.

“Dabi!” You squealed.

“Sorry, Ms. Y/n,” he chuckled against your kinky hair, “I just wanted to come by and see if it was possible to get some private lessons.”

You giggled, shaking your head, “you’re so corny. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner, but I’m hungry now.”

“What? What’s the supp-oh!”

The soft material of your knee length dress slid against your body and the next thing you felt were Dabi’s big, warm hands massaging your hips and a very familiar bulge against the crack of your ass.

“Damn, teach,” your boyfriend grinned against your ear, his deep raspy voice made you shiver. “You should have known better than to wear a thong with this little dress of yours. All those pervy male teachers probably haven’t been able to take their eyes off you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt strong fingers groping and massaging your ass cheeks.

“Dabi,” you croaked weakly, “not here.”

Dabi responded by snaking his pierced along your neck. You whimpered.

“D-Dabi..”

“Hmm?”

One his hands squeezed your full breasts beneath the material.

“Stop, I’m serious.”

“You know, you’re really hard to resist, right beautiful?” His hard on was massaging you through the jeans.

The two of you had been dating for a few months now, and had yet to go beyond kissing and heavy petting that always left Dabi wanting more. He wasn’t sure what you were waiting for, but he did know you were worth the wait.

And boy did you make him wait for it...and work for it. It was as hot as it was frustrating. His dick was so hard it hurt, and all he could think about was fucking you on your desk until you were screaming his name.

He turned you around to face him easily and scooped you up by those thick thighs of yours.

The next few moments were a blur. You saw pens and papers knocked to the floor before feeling your big bare ass settle against the cool wood of the desk.

“My lesson plans!”

Dabi’s lips cut off your protest, and his fingers worked the black dress off your body and over your head, exposing your curves to the cool air.

It was dizzying and exciting and sexy and...inappropriate! So inappropriate. This was your job!

“D-Dabi, wait!” You gasped between the feeling of his pierced lips nipping at you. “There might be students-“

“School ended an hour ago. Trust me. No kids are in this building.” He chuckled, amused.

“The janitors might-“

“I locked the door, beautiful. We’ll hear ‘em comin’.”

Turquoise eyes roamed your thick, dark body hungrily, followed by hands stacked with rings.

“Damn, I want you.” He muttered, diving down between your big breasts to lick and suck at them.

“Ahh~” you dug your fingers into his crop of black hair. “We can’t.” You gasped.

“Says who?”

“Da-ahh! Mmm.” His tongue was now snaking down your stomach. Kisses and bites being left on the melanated skin below your belly button. Fuck it felt so damn good.

He admired the glistening mess between your legs, parting the thick thighs to admire your creaming pussy.

“Fuckin’ delicious.”

And then he dove in.

“Ohh go—“

Dabi slurped at your clit gently. The flick of his pierced tongue combined with the warmth of his mouth sucking the sensitive pearl sent electricity tingling through you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and the muffled sounds of heels clicking down the hall as remaining teachers walked past your locked room was the furthest thing from your mind.

This was so wrong. This went against everything you stood for, and yet...

“Moan for me, y/n,” Dabi commanded against your pussy. “Don’t hold back. Or else I’ma stop holdin’ back.”

“Dabi~”

He smirked up at your pretty brown face and his fingers glided easily into the gripping heat of your cunt.

“Ahhaaa! Fuck! Fuck...” your hips bucked against the sensation.

Months of only being able to play in your cat had given Dabi plenty of time to get to know your weaknesses. He exploited every one of them now. Throwing your thick thighs around his neck he flexed his fingers while licking at your folds.

You could only squirm against him, one hand grabbing his head to push his face deeper while the other gripped the edge of your desk.

“D-Dabi, god yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. B-baby, f-f-fu~”

Those sweet moans were music to Dabi’s ears. Your cum coated his fingers and your juices sprayed his face. He opened his mouth greedily drinking every drop.

Then he laughed low in his throat.

“Wow, Ms. Y/n, you really are a naughty teacher aren’t you?”

You tried to glare down at him, but it barely registered. You were too turned on to be pissed.

Dabi continued to tease you. “Letting me fuck you on your desk. Right here where you have to teach all these innocent young minds.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Dabi pressed kisses against the chunky meat of your thighs, his piercings tickled and his lips felt so good.

“Or what, Ms. Y/n?” He asked. “You’ll make me stay after class?”

He snickered and got to his feet.

You couldn’t help admiring him. He wasn’t a big guy by any means, but he was lean and well toned. You wanted to see all of him. Feel all of him.

Snatching him by his shirt, you pulled him close and locked your thick thighs around his trim hips. Your lips pressed against his, hungry to taste every bit of him.

The two of you pulled his shirt over his head and you grinned admiring the colorful tapestry of tattoos and, your favorite part, the barbells piercing his nipples.

Dabi gave a smug smirk. “What’s up, babe? Don’t wanna stop anymore?”

You cocked a brow. “Real funny for someone who moans like a bitch when I do this.”

Pulling him towards you by the waist of his jeans, you trailed your tongue around his nipple, gazing up at him in that way that drove him fucking crazy.

“Oh my god~” he sighed. “Fuuuck, y/n...”

You giggled softly, switching to the other nipple. A deep groan welled up from your man’s throat.

Taking back control, your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, squeezing the thick length trapped in his jeans.

Fuck his dick was so big. You had wanted to fuck your man for the longest time. And just feeling how hard his big dick was for you only confirmed that.

You pressed kisses up along his bobbing Adam’s apple, sucking at his studded earlobes. Your lips pressed to his ear as you purred out; “Now whose being naughty?”

That was about all the man could take.

He snatched you up off the desk once more to turn you around, laying you against it.

You heard the clang of his belt buckle as he snatched off his belt. Then you felt the leather and studs of it kiss your phat ass as he cracked it against you.

“OH FUCK!” You screamed.

“Yeah?” Dabi growled. “Since you wanna talk shit and be a little tease that’s what your ass gets.” He snapped back.

He spanked you a few more times, not caring about what straggling teachers may have heard the noise.

Your mouth hung open as you felt your boyfriend’s lean body press against your body, long dick rocking between the cheeks of your butt.

“I been wanting to fuck your fine ass up for a minute Ms. Y/n.” He chuckled. “This is gonna be fun.”

He stood up admiring the view of that big, perfect ass jiggling with all its dimples and stretch marks in front of him.

God. He couldn’t wait to dive in it.

You craned your neck and admired the long dick slipping between your ass crack. A trail of piercings forming a jacob’s ladder on the underside.

Dabi caught your eye and grinned, eyes flashing. “You ready, babygirl?”

“Fuck me.” You replied.

That was all the answer he needed. Dabi wasted no time plunging deep into that juicy cunt of yours and a strangled groan escaped you both.

“Ahaaa~ fuuuuck yesss, Dabi!”

It was an odd sensation. His piercings added another sensation of texture to your throbbing walls. Your pussy couldn’t get enough of it because you felt yourself clenching and flexing for more.

Luckily he was more than happy to give it to you. His hips rocked back and forth making you feel every. Single. Inch. Every bump and ridge of your tight heat got massaged as he long stroked inside you.

“Fuckkk, y/n, you feel even better than I imagined, babygirl.”

The Angle made your big butt squeeze his cock going in and out, adding an extra grip to his dick. He dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass massaging and squeezing it while he pummeled deep into you.

“You gonna let me cum in this fat ass of yours, y/n? Huh?” He ground out through gritted teeth, fucking you sonhard your booty jiggled and the desk creaked.

“Yes daddy. You-c-can cum-ahh~where-ever you-fuccck-want!” You managed back, throwing your ass back at him as best you could.

“God damn right I can. Fuck!” He sighed.

Dabi alternated between fucking you hard and rough and slow and deep. His hand landed against your ass again and again and again. The sting barely registered as anything other than pleasure.

“Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck fuck FUCK! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” You gasped, drool drenching the desk where your mouth hung open.

“Got you baby-ah fuck! Don’t worry. Ima take care of you.” Dabi grunted back, eyes damn near closed in a mix of pure bliss and concentration.

The desk scraped as the force of your fuck session sent it sliding against the linoleum floors slightly. Neither of you stopped bucking and fucking.

If anything, you went harder. Dabi’s balls clapped your cunt with every stroke, and your ass jumped up to meet his pounding dick over and over until-

“AHAAA~”

“FUUUUCK!”

The two of you came so hard together it felt like you had ascended to another planet. Dabi Damn near collapsed on top of you. He pressed kisses against your curls and cooed about how amazing you felt. How amazing you were, as the two of you came down from your highs.

Finally, you were able to stand shakily to your feet—with Dabi’s help—and get dressed.

You sat back against the desk, panting and watching your very smug boyfriend pull on his shirt.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” You shook your head. “I knew you were trouble the day I met you.”

Dabi laughed. “Well, hey, if I’m so much trouble I could always come see you after class again.” He winked.

You threw a marker at his laughing face which he just barely dodged.w

“Shut the hell up and clean up my classroom.”

Still grinning Dabi leaned in for a kiss. “Yes ma’am, teacher.”

[bakubabes-tatakae]

Hello, darling! I love your writing very much. I was wondering if I could have prompt "First one to make a noise looses.” with my boi Kiba? Thank you in advance.

Hello nonny ❤️ I’m more than happy to write for my baby boy Kiba.

Keep Quiet || {NSFW} Kiba x Reader

Warnings: smut, oral sex, 18+ content, biting kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, choking kink

Word Count: 1.5k

Kiba Inuzuka had never been one that backed down from a challenge and tonight would be no different. His challenge tonight was to get the two of you out of the slump that you had entered. It had been weeks since the two of you had been intimate, but that wasn’t from lack of him trying. You hadn’t been up for it. Your sex life with Kiba had been basic for a long time now and it didn’t have you as needy for him as it used to.

Kiba wanted nothing more than to change that. He missed the nights that the two of you would spend awake and be exhausted in the morning. He missed the spontaneous sessions that you would have on the couch as you settled in for the night to watch a movie. He wanted to feel your touch against him more than just hugs and holding you.

As you entered the house after your shift at the hospital the last thing you had expected was that Kiba would be home. He had a Genin squad to train, he should have been with them. But as you shut the front door all you felt was his presence. You couldn’t tell where in the house he was, but you could feel his sight on you,

You sighed as you placed your bag on the table and took your sweater off. “Kiba, where are you? I can feel you staring at me.”

That’s when the man made his move. His strong hands grabbed your arms and pushed you back into the door. “Welcome home Miss Y/n.”

You gasped as you felt the cool touch of the surface of the door against you. There was nothing but pure hunger in Kiba’s eyes as he looked into your own. You swallowed hard, unsure of what was about to happen. “Kiba, what are you doing?”

He chuckled deviously. “I wanna play a game.” You raised an eyebrow at him, confused at what he could possibly mean. He ignored your confusion and continued. “You said we were in a runt and I think that I found a way to fix that.”

You huffed as you listened to his words, now curious as to how he was going to do this.

He pushed you farther against the door and pressed his lips to yours roughly. You kissed back, craving his touch more than you would let him know. You had missed the animal-like characteristics that the man had when the two of you had started seeing each other, and there were hints of it coming back. You spoke against his lips. “What’s the game and what are the rules?”

He smiled, just happy that you were on board. “First one to make a noise loses.” A smirk tugged at his lips as he watched the intrigued look on your face grow. “The only rule is that there are no rules. But the loser doesn’t get to cum.”

You laughed at the fool and cupped his face in your hands, rubbing your fingers against his stubble. “Bring it on Inuzuka.”

Kiba wrapped his arms around you and placed his hands on the back of your thighs. You lightly hopped up and wrapped your legs around his waist. His body pushed you against the door and his lips met your neck, slowly trailing kisses down it before he reached your shoulder and sunk his teeth into it.

You bit your lips before you cried out, he knew exactly how much you loved the feeling of his teeth against your skin. He only ever bit down just hard enough that he would get a rise out of you. “You’re playing dirty Kiba.”

He spoke between kisses as he made his way around your neck again. “Is there any other way to play this game other than dirty?”

You knew he was right, but you hated to admit it. His hands slowly grasped your ass cheeks, holding you up in his arms as he moved the two of you to the bedroom. It was a busy time in the village, the last thing you needed was someone to walk by and see the two of you in the window.

Kiba reached the bed and tossed you onto it, his hands gripping your pants and pulling them down your legs before you even had time to prepare yourself. His hands slowly clutched your thighs, squeezing ever so gently as his nails dug into your soft skin. You tried to squeeze your legs together, knowing that at this point you would probably lose.

The Inuzuka was too strong, his hands easily pulled your legs apart. You watched as he licked his lips, taking in the sight of you dripping before him. His fingers gripped your thighs as he praised you. “Look at that pretty pussy, so ready for me.”

You tried your hardest not to whine as he praised you. You had to get him back, but before you could even move to do so he pushed your panties to the side and put his tongue against your clit. His tongue slowly circled it, causing waves of pleasure to crash into your body. You bit your lip, you were almost sure that you had drawn blood. You refused to lose.

Kiba was ruthless as his tongue plunged in and out of your core, your body squirming as he placed a hand on your stomach to try to hold you in place. Your orgasm was nearing as your walls closed around his tongue. “Come on baby girl, cum for me.”

The tone in his voice threw you over the edge, causing you to almost cry out as your orgasm shattered you. As his face came back into view he licked his lips, making sure to get every last drop.

You sat up and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, pulling him toward you. You had a devilish look in your eyes as he watched you. “Take them off Kiba.”

The sound of his belt filled the room as he obeyed you. He pushed his pants and underwear down his legs and raised his eyebrows at you. “Now what darling, better have something good in mind because you’ll lose with my-”

Kiba swallowed hard as you grasped his cock and filled your mouth with it. The suddenness of it had him at a loss for words. He watched your head bob up and down on his length, just the sight of it had him nearly feral. “God, you look so good on your knees like that.”

You felt his hand on the back of your head, helping push his cock farther into his mouth. “Don’t be afraid, my love. Take the whole thing.”

You didn’t fight back against his touch and as his cock went farther you could feel your eyes start to water. His hips slowly began to rock, taking control of the situation as he smirked at the sight of you nearly gagging on his girth. “I’m so close darling, keep doing what you’re doing.”

As you felt like you could barely breathe, your throat was coated with a warm, salty sensation . His cock twitched against the roof of your mouth as he emptied himself out.

As he pulled his cock from your mouth he placed his hand under your chin and tilted your head toward him. “Prepare to lose now.”

You slowly stood as you felt his hands grip your arm. Kiba turned you around and planted a firm smack to your ass, pushing you forward. “Bend over.”

You landed on your knees on the mattress as his hands grasped your hips. You felt his cock against you as he leaned forward, filling your cunt with his length. He wrapped a hand into your hair and pulled you backward, holding you up against him and pounding himself into you. You had all you could to not scream out his name. “What’s the matter darling?” He was taunting you. “Just say my name.”

His free hand gently pressed against your neck, applying slight pressure as he whispered softly in your ear. “Tell daddy just how good he makes you feel.”

And that was all it took. You couldn’t take it anymore. Your attempts to hold back your pleasured sounds was futile. His name left your lips softly as his pace quickened, accompanied by soft moans. His release was nearing as your walls began to clench around him. “That’s my girl.” He placed a kiss to your cheek as he spoke. “I could never deny you an orgasm, cum for daddy, baby girl. I wanna feel you quivering.”

Your walls tightened as you convulsed on his cock, the feeling of your core suffocating him sending him into his own bliss. His thick, hot cum coated your insides and you both collapsed on the bed. “Looks like I win, don’t I?” He chuckled as he beamed at you.

“I call a rematch.” You slapped his chest playfully. “I won’t let you beat me.”

That same smirk that the man wore so well tugged at his lips. “Well just see about that.”

[reddielibrary]

Smorboll

prompt: Eddie having trouble looking for furniture at Ikea and Richie works there

written by: Amelia | @tinyarmedtrex

word count: 2437

*click title to read on AO3

“No Bev, I’ll be fine. I just need a new bed.” Eddie said, stepping onto the escalator.  “How hard can it be?” He turned to glare as he was jostled from behind. “No I didn’t look before, why would I need to do that?” He asked as he rode the escalator. He tried to read her silence but then the displays came into view and he understood. “Holy fuck. Bev, there are whole rooms here.” He paused as his friend laughed. “Yes I know you told me but I didn’t believe you. It sounded insane.” He looked around, starting to quietly freak out.  He tried to keep his voice even as he asked, “Bev, what do I do? How do I do this?” He stepped off the escalator, moving aside for others, and looked around with no small amount of horror on his face. Bev just cackled and told him he was on his own, then hung up.

Eddie gulped.  This was what Ikea was like? He had heard that it could be overwhelming but he had expected it to be like any other store, with some display models and lots of empty space. He now understood why Bev told him not to go on a Saturday. He knew it would be busy but this, this was pure chaos. There were families all over, trying to wrangle kids, teens who looked like they were just there to hang out, older couples stopped in the middle of the aisle. The disorganization and pandemonium terrified him and he felt his chest tighten as people filtered past him, jostling him.

Breathe, He told himself, trying to hold off the panic attack he felt coming. Just breathe. Maybe he could just leave and come back another day, he thought as he watched a child rub their chocolate-stained hands over a white dresser. Maybe a Monday morning. When none of these people would be here.

Eddie had decided he would do that when the panic started to rise again- how the hell did you leave this place? He couldn’t see an exit. The escalator only went up. He felt trapped in this terrible consumer carnival.

He could feel his breaths coming in quick pants and wished he had his inhaler. He didn’t need it, he knew that but part of him still wanted to reach for it, to feel the cool medicine pump into his throat. It would calm him down.

No, he told himself sternly. Just take deep breaths and work out a solution. Just like Doctor Jones always tells you. It’s a crutch. He turned and closed his eyes, focusing on breathing and nothing else.

He yelped in surprise as a hand covered his shoulder and someone asked, “Hey there short stack, do you need some help?”

Eddie spun, ready to yell at them but was met by a friendly, goofy face. The hand belonged to a tall stranger with unruly red hair that clashed terribly with his yellow employee shirt.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to find the exit,” Eddie said, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. Other days he might be willing to talk to him but right now, he wanted to leave.

“But you just got here.” The man said. “You must be shopping for something, let me help you.”

“No thanks-” He read the name tag. “Richie. I’ll come back another day.”

“But what if I’m not here then and you miss out on getting to know your soulmate?”

Eddie scowled at that, running a hand through his blond hair. His panic was lessening as his annoyance level raised.  “Soulmate huh? That’s awfully presumptive of you, especially since you don’t even know my name.”

“I’ll learn it as we shop for a-” He paused, waiting for Eddie to fill in the gap. He spun his hand around, trying to get him to finish the sentence.

Eddie relented. “Bed.”

A grin spread across Richie’s face, “Oh, that’s fucking perfect. Okay, shorty, let me bed you.” He took Eddie’s hand and started walking.

“Don’t call me that, just because you’re a giant.” He said, feeling a flush spread on his face. He wasn't used to people casually touching him.

“What is your name then? Unless you want me to keep gracing you with adorable nicknames.”

“Eddie, I’m Eddie.” He said, realizing that they were weaving through the crowd at a breakneck pace. “Does every customer get this kind of treatment?”

Richie turned to look at him, shaking his head. “Only the cute ones,” He said, winking before turning back.

Eddie had to admit, he was impressed by Richie’s ability to bob and weave through the crowd, he seemed to know just where to step and when, avoiding collisions with couples and parents readying to send their teens to college. Once or twice, they stopped to answer questions, Richie directing people with ease and using both hands- while still holding Eddie’s- to gesture and explain things. It made Eddie laugh when Richie tried to explain how to find the kitchen section and he used Eddie’s hand to emphasize just how far off base the couple was.

When Richie wasn’t being stopped by customers he was firing questions at Eddie. “What kind of bed do you want?”

Eddie shrugged, “Something simple, I was thinking a black frame.”

“Black, sleek, sexy. I like it. But that’s not what I meant. What size? Are you looking for a king so you can spread out, or a full so you can cuddle with your boyfriend?” Richie paused abruptly, turning to look at Eddie.

Who nearly ran into him. “A queen. And, no boyfriend.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling Richie this but he wanted him to know, not just because he had helped stave off Eddie’s panic attack. Being with Richie was weirdly calming, he liked having someone guide him through the store and laughing with him at the store’s quirks.

“I’m very happy to hear that,” Richie said, giving him another quirky smile then gesturing in front of him. “Bed land my good sir.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, he hadn’t even realized they were here. “That's, a lot of options.” He said, staring at the variety of beds in front of him.

“That’s what we do,” Richie said, taking his hand back and planting his hands on his hips. “Now that we’re here, let’s talk about a few things. What kind of frame are you thinking? Sleek? Fancy? Cushioned? Do you want drawers?”

“I-” Eddie looked at the variety of frames again and starting to feel overwhelmed. “I have no idea.”

“We’ll test,” Richie said, gesturing to the first bed. “This baby is a Neiden.” Richie pointed to a simple bed frame with a small headboard. “Classic design, inexpensive.” He laid down and patted next to him.

Eddie reluctantly crawled beside him, trying not to think about how many other people had laid in this bed.

“Thoughts?” Richie asked, flipping to his side and looking at Eddie.

This is how it would look if I woke up next to him, Eddie thought, watching as Richie’s curls flopped onto his face. He nearly reached out and tucked it behind his ear, barely stopping himself.

“Too simple, isn't it? You seem like a fancy guy.” Richie said, leaping up before Eddie could answer.

Eddie stood and followed. Richie was right, he wanted to buy his first adult bed. Not something that felt like it belonged in a dorm.

“Let’s try this bad boy, our snefjord model,” Richie said, flopping onto a bed with a cushioned headboard. He knocked on it. “A sound barrier for your louder nights, no bugging roommates with this.” He said as Eddie laid down.

“I don't have any roommates,” Eddie said, turning his head to look at Richie.

“Solo man, huh? I like it.” Richie stretched and Eddie caught a glimpse of the pale skin on Richie’s stomach. “I’ve got a roommate but he’s cool, he’s at his boyfriend’s a lot.”

“His boyfriend’s?” Eddie asked.

Richie nodded. “Stan my man finally nabbed his college crush, took nearly 6 months of shoving them together but now they’re inseparable.”

“Cute,” Eddie said, slightly jealous of someone he didn’t even know. Eddie was sick of the dating scene, he wished he had something like that, something effortless. “Sure, if you don’t mind them sucking face whenever you walk into a room.” Richie sat up, looking around the room. “Tell me what your bedroom looks like Eds, I need some inspiration.”

Eddie sat up too. “You’re very forward.”

The other man shrugged, “I don’t think you mind.” Eddie didn’t but he wasn’t about to tell Richie that. Instead, he answered the question. “I painted one blue accent wall, the rest is white. I’ve got black furniture. It’s pretty plain.”

Richie nodded, scanning the room. “Any pictures?”

“A framed Audrey Hepburn a friend gave me.”

“Classy.” Richie leapt off and went to another bed, not checking if Eddie was following.

He did. Eddie already had a feeling that he’d follow Richie most places. It was strange, Eddie wasn’t a trusting person but he already trusted Richie, in his terrible yellow shirt and ripped jeans.

Richie fell onto another bed, with a white metal frame and an elaborate headboard. “This baby will impress all the guests. Look at this craftsmanship.” Richie said, knocking on the metal, making it clang loudly.

Eddie didn’t lie down this time, shaking his head. “I don’t like this one at all.” It was too frilly for him. He had spent his life being called girly and frail, he didn’t want that in a bed.

Richie threw his legs over the sides and sat up, grinning at Eddie. “Finally! An opinion emerges from the dark! I thought you’d be someone with lots of opinions. Tell me what you want,” Richie asked again.

Eddie looked at the sea of beds and found one he liked. He wandered over to it, Richie following him. It was a black wooden frame with vertical planks as the headboard. “I like this,” Eddie said, running his hands over it. “Sleek, not too fancy, looks like an adult’s bed.”

Richie nodded approvingly. “A Hemnes, very nice.” He ran his hand over it too, stopping near Eddie’s and leaning over him. “The best part is that these boards work great for handcuffs.” He whispered into Eddie’s ear.

Eddie swallowed, feeling Richie’s warm body next to his. “Is that something you’re interested in?” Richie continued.

Eddie turned to look at Richie, smiling slightly. “That’s not really an employee-customer question.”

“Is that all we are, employee and customer?” Richie asked, pretending to be hurt.

Eddie shrugged, smiling a little. “You tell me.”

Richie took the half pencil from Eddie and wrote something down, sticking the paper and pencil in Eddie’s pocket. “The bed number, for later,” He explained, taking Eddie’s hand again. “Now, if you’re interested, we dine.”

“Dine?” Eddie asked, willingly following Richie this time.

“All will be explained in good time my tiny Timberlake.”

“Timberlake?” Eddie asked.

“You’ve got moves, I can tell. And you’re a sharp dressed man.” Richie explained as they wove through dressers and kitchen countertops.

“You are unlike anyone I’ve met,” Eddie said, slightly under his breath.

“They broke the mold when they made me,” Richie told him, stopping so abruptly that Eddie ran into his back. “Ta-da!” Richie said, sweeping his arm across what looked, to Eddie, like a school cafeteria.

“Wow, I’m-” He paused. “Underwhelmed.”

Richie turned to him, shaking his head. “You’re such an Ikea virgin. Come on, let’s get you some delicious meatballs.” Richie turned and grabbed a tray, falling into one of the lines.

“I’m not really a ball guy,” Eddie said, grabbing a tray for himself.

Richie barked out a laugh. “Eds gets off a good one! But you’ll like these balls, they come in vegetarian too. All your ball preferences are covered.”

“That’s not my name,” Eddie said, looking up at the menu choices. “What’s safe to eat?”

“I’m ordering, don’t worry,” Richie said, turning to the employee and rattling off a long order.

Within five minutes they were sitting down. “You ordered way too much,” Eddie said, looking at all the food.

“You gotta try everything. Can’t have you thinking I’m cheap on a first date.” Richie explained, spearing a portion of a meatball on his fork and dipping it in the cranberry sauce. “Open wide for my balls Eds.”

“You’re really enjoying these ball jokes huh?” Eddie said and Richie nodded. He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, not missing how Richie’s eyes trained on his lips.

Eddie’s mouth closed around the bit and he chewed slowly, Richie watching him the whole time. “Well?”

Eddie swallowed and nodded. “It’s pretty good actually.”  He picked up his fork and took some of the mashed potatoes, eating those. “It’s all good.”

Richie grinned. “Wait until you try the cake.”

They ate, Richie telling Eddie about working at Ikea and Eddie telling Richie about his job. It was the best, if weirdest, first date Eddie had had in a while.

Eventually, Eddie looked down at his watch, shocked to see how much time had passed. “I need to go, I’m meeting friends for dinner. And you probably need to get back to work.”

Richie shrugged as he stood, moving to put the trays away. “My shift ended an hour ago.”

Eddie came to a full stop. “Why were you helping me then?”

“You looked mid-panic attack. I know how that goes. I couldn't just leave you.” Richie shrugged, then he smiled. “Plus, you’re pretty damn cute.”

Eddie smiled at him. “Well, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you. And thanks for lunch.” He was reeling from the fact that Richie had stayed late, just for him.

“Think of me when you see balls.” Richie winked and turned, starting to walk away.

Eddie gaped at him for a minute before catching up with him, putting a hand on Richie’s shoulder and making him turn. “What are you doing?” Eddie asked, annoyed. “All that and you’re not going to give me your number? Or ask for mine?” He crossed his arms.

Richie poked Eddie’s breast pocket. “What do you think I wrote down there? It’s the number for the bed, and for me.”  

“Oh,” Eddie looked down, feeling a little silly. “I was worried that-”

Richie bent down and pressed his lips to Eddie’s, just briefly before pulling back and grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll be around to help you break that bed in.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”  

Richie smirked, “I never do.”

[wham-bam-alacazam]

Elvira Martin : Laid Bare

Name: Elvira Martin Sex: Female Nickname(s): El - This was a nickname given to her by her ex-husband Nate. She still really likes the nickname and it has a lot of icky sentimental feelings attached to it. 

Ellie - A term of endearment given to her by Cait Age: 27 Sexuality: Bisexual Height: 5 foot  10 inches Weight:145  pounds 

Skin tone: Elvira is very pale. She works hard to maintain her pale appearance, wearing long sleeves and carrying around a parasol to block out the sun. Scar(s): Elvira has a scar along the side of her face. It started about half way down her forehead and runs down by her eyebrow. It’s deep and left over from her days in the military doing field work. A suit of power armor exploded and metal blasted everywhere. She has a few other places on her stomach, arms and legs where the metal scarred after being removed. 

Tattoos:  She has one tattoo of a planchette on her high thigh that is very gothic and dark  

Eye color: Brown Hair: She has straight bangs and a bob of dark black hair. She maintains it very well. Whenever she can, she does her best to wash and tend to her hair. Impairments: She needs glasses for distance. Accent/Voice: Her voice is very smooth and regal. She speaks like she is always in charge. She keeps a tone like she owns the place, whatever dump that may be. Makeup: Her makeup is heavy and always on. She wears sleek winged eyeliner that is somehow always perfectly straight. Her shadow is a dark base with purple around it and under her eyes. Her brows are filled in to keep that thin, arched look. She wears a little blush high on her cheeks but that’s about it. Her lips are always a bright, bold red color with a maroon lining. Freckles/Birthmarks/Etc.?: She had a mole on her forehead that pokes out from under her bangs. 

Clothing: When she’s not in her armor, she wears a tux or a sleek black dress that she’s sewn together herself. Her armor is a vault suit with whatever she can find over it. She often wears a militia hat. She always wears her glasses. Weapon(s): Her signature weapon is a modified black baseball bat that’s been painted with her own intricate and ornate white detailing. It also has razor blades wrapped around it. She likes going in fast and hard. If she needs a gun, its a shotgun or a submachine gun. She’s also been known to use knives when need be. 

Faction Affiliations: Elvira is very much so a lone wolf but she was wrapped into working with the Minutemen and the Brotherhood of Steel. She doesn’t support or stand for much of what the Brotherhood does but she can’t help but feel secure in the familiar feeling working in a military setting with power armor. 

Stats Strength: 5 Perception: 5 Endurance: 4 Charisma: 7 Intelligence: 8 Agility: 3 Luck: 2

Perks: Big Leagues 2

VANS

Sneak

Hacker 2

Locksmith 2

Local Leader

Science! Addictions: Alcohol Loves: 

The dark and mysterious

Honest people

Being Goth

Working on power armor

Likes: 

Alcohol

Tinkering with weapons 

Shotguns

Cats

Neutrals: 

Comics

Morals 

Armor

Faction discourse Dislikes:

Being blood soaked

Her hair being ruined 

Classical music

Super Mutants Hates: 

People with alternative motives 

Being disrespected 

Rads 

Working for free Fears: Assaultrons- She had worked with too many in the past and know exactly what they are capable of, making them a huge fear of hers. 

Turning into a ghoul- While Elvira has nothing against ghouls, she hates to even think about turning into one herself. 

Disappearing- Elvira is terrified that she will disappear one day. That people will just forget about her and that she’s not important.  Quirks: She makes a ‘tch’ sound with her tongue whenever she is thinking or judging someone. Whenever she is anxious or worried she’ll play with her hair. Backstory: She met Nate in the army. She was working in engineering with power armor and he was a soldier. They married young due to pressure from their families. They weren’t really happy but because of pressure from their families, again, they stayed together. It was a toxic relationship on both sides but it all happened behind closed doors. They tried to look normal. Had a kid. Went to block parties. Smiled and waved. But neither were happy. Nate wanted to have a kid. He wanted so badly to have a kid. Elvira didn’t. They ‘had trouble’ having a kid. Their trouble was El continuing to take her birth control. When she finally found out she was pregnant at 26, El panicked. She tried to hide it from everyone, denying it to herself. But eventually she began to show and the jig was up. Looking back, that was the only time she never fought with Nate, purely because of how doting and kind he was being, she didn’t have enough energy to fight with him. After 9 months, she had Shaun. She wanted nothing to do with him and had severe postpartum depression. She wanted to get rid of it. She couldn’t raise a baby. It was Nate baby. Not her’s. She spent days in bed, doing the minimum she could with the baby. Eventually Nate called a doctor to the house to help and they did. She shook the depression and coped with it, but she never got rid of the feeling that the baby wasn’t hers. Of course, it was hers, but it felt so foreign. She started working more and more, trying to stay away from home and Nate ended up staying home with the baby. She got questions about it at work, wondering why she came back so fast but she avoided them all. Whenever she came home, she would always fight with Nate. He was disappointed in her mothering skills. He was angry that she was never home. That she wasn’t a wife anyone. She wasn’t ever a mother. He was the one always putting Shaun to bed and waking him up and changing diapers, giving 2am feedings. She hadn’t even tried to breastfeed. They would scream at each other. She had to work. She didn’t want this. It was his fault that she couldn’t leave. His crazy religious family. It was his constant nagging and complaining that drove her to work herself to death. Elvira ended up cheating on Nate and it came to a snapping point in their relationship. That brings it up to the bombs and the events of the game. She’s slow about trying to find Shaun because she never really wanted a kid but there was always that nagging sense of motherly duty that drove her to find him and the guilt of there being a baby out there alone with a stranger. Although, she was just as much a stranger to him as anyone else. Lover’s Embrace Quotes: 

“Wow you were loud enough to wake the dead.” 

“I did say I’d try anything once..” 

“Ow…” 

“Nothing could capture this moment” 

“Remind me to bring more candles next time we have a seance at the witching hour.” 

“Breakfast in bed, my dear?”

  Relationships Codsworth: He had always been kind to her, despite seeing the failing marriage he was involved in. He stuck around after the war and helped around the settlement because he found that he enjoyed helping people and serving. Elvira turned him over to Preston where she knew he would be happier serving.  Dogmeat: Good boy. She keeps him safe at him in Sanctuary. He stays at the house and is a lap dog. Preston Garvey: Preston and her are close but it is a very business like relationship. She thinks that Preston is too uptight and too driven. He had no goals outside of the Minutemen. But it worked out for her so she sticks around. She enjoys rebuilding the Commonwealth and bringing something other than violence around. Nick Valentine: She and him have very similar humor and get along well. They go out for drinks often. She appreciates his efforts to help her find Shaun and his sympathetic ear that he often leans. He understands. Piper: She gets on her nerves. She’s too peppy and sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong. But she’s doing the right thing. Cait: Elvira gets very attached to Cait after saving her from the Combat Zone. She feels like they were cut from the same cloth. She helps clean her up and takes her all over the Commonwealth with her. They get romantically involved. 

John Hancock: El and Hancock are bros in the first degree. They are very different but they go together very well. She is always ready for a drink with him. They can talk for hours and laugh and joke forever. Robert Joseph MacCready: Elvira likes how she can make MacCready squirm. He’s got a personality where she know how to mess with him and she does. She doesn’t like how weak willed he seemed to be. Paladin Danse: If Preston is uptight, then Danse is… something else. She regrettably works with him often but that doesn’t mean that she enjoys it. She tries to make the best of it but they clash heads just as much as she did with Nate. She and Danse will scream at each other until the world’s end. But when push comes to shove there is one big difference between him and Nate. El will take a hit for Danse. They have a connection on a deep level. A loyalty to something bigger than themselves, even if Elvira’s is gone. Possibly a romance here? Deacon: Little shit is everywhere and El laughs at it. She picks up on his lies quickly and plays into them. They are trouble with a capital T even if he gets on her nerves. Maxson: El and Maxson run circles around each other. They both have very dominant personalities but they don’t clash. They circle each other like dangerous and hungry lions. 

Media 

spotify playlist: x

images: x x 

writing: x x x x x

fic: x

pinterest board: x

[knowthyselfrp]

         AGE RANGE: 31 //  OCCUPATION: FREELANCE DRAFTSMAN // PRONOUNS: He/him

Fire. You are fire – unstable and unpredictable; dangerous and harmful to those who come close. Your rage is like fire; fire runs in your veins. Raised in wealth and knowing nothing but, it was fire that lit up when your parents passed and you lost all that wealth; forced to become one of the people you so cruelly shunned and evaded years before. You’re left with a home filled with useless things, alone and lonely. Be thankful your servants have stayed, despite your erratic behavior, for without them, you would’ve been driven mad years ago. Your flames burn brightly and it is near impossible to extinguished. But fire can be doused by water – free, utopian, and pure.

Belle – She is water. You are polar opposites, yet there is an intense spark between the two of you. You’ve harmed her father before �� something you regret doing what with the recent events – and you only agreed to stop disturbing him if she concedes to visiting you every day. Why is that? You thrive in solitude, yet you want her around you. Perhaps, without you knowing, the beast has finally start to become a man again.

Cogsworth & Lumiere – You shun them like you do with everyone. How can you be so blind? These are the very people who’ve helped you, even when you had nothing. Your hands were empty except for a trace of contempt for the world, yet they stayed by your side, loyal to you beyond anyone’s imagination. It is high time they start earning your appreciation; for not many could learn to love a beast.

How you perplex the Creator. This man has never encountered a character so consumed by his rage and so heavily influenced by his bigotry. You interest him; you confuse him – hence, you earn his partiality. Oh, how he certainly hopes you don’t try to be Belle’s hero and discover what had happened to her father. He would hate to put one of his favorites in Isolation. Keep that fire burning, Beast. Keep the Creator interested.

Bob Morley

tw // suicide mention

Once upon a time, in a city not too far from Hermosa, not that different from any other - there was a husband and wife. The husband had vowed to do good things for the community, helping the less fortunate and assisting those who could not help themselves. As an architect, he wanted to use his position to build places that could becoming homes for those who didn’t have one. And for a while, he accomplished his goal. But just like in every story, the hero has a weakness that can prove to be his downfall - and for this so-called hero, the weakness was greed. As the money began to flow in, it was hard to ignore the potential to increase the wealth, and slowly, gradually - the goal at hand was no longer about helping others. It was about helping himself, and taking advantage of others to reach his goal. Gone was the hopes of working to create a better community, but rather he focused on taking homes that people couldn’t afford to pay for, and getting them evicted in order to build the lot up and charge obscene amounts of money for it. It was said that the practice that the man fell into increased homelessness in the city, and made the divide between the rich and the poor even worse. Did he care? Not in the slightest. His house was luxurious, filled with the most beautiful riches - and if those people could not fend for themselves, then why should it have been his job?

At this time, the wife had just given birth to the couple’s first child - a baby boy with a head full of dark curls and a smile that could rival the sun. Adam, they named him - a strong name to drive him towards a strong future. Even though he had just been given the greatest gift of all - the father did not stop when it came to his work. His career always came first, as he would tell his wife, because who else would be able to provide for the family? And so, Adam spent most of his childhood with his mother, reveling in her beautiful voice as she’d sing to him, or following after her as she’d walk through her rose gardens. They were her most prized possession, a passion that was handed down from her father to her, similar in the way his father had handed it down to him. The garden laid just a few feet from the entrance of the estate, a thick bramble of the reddest roses he’d ever seen. She’d carry him through the garden as a child, showing him the blooms as she warned him about the thorns. His mother cared for him, showering him in love and affection, and always speaking to him of the importance to love others, and to love himself. Perhaps that was why the young boy had been happy for most of his youth - a dark and twisted irony to what laid ahead in his future.

When Adam reached adolescence, his father decided that he needed to have an education that was worthy of their name - and so he went to the same prestigious boarding school that his father had attended. It was far away from home, and he didn’t want to leave the comfort and familiarity of the family - but it was one of the first times that his father had truly seemed to pay attention to him, - and so he sucked it up and did as he was told. He missed his mother terribly, missed being mischievous and annoying the servants in the kitchen, missed the fragrance of roses that would rush through the house anytime a window was opened in the slightest. He had a difficult time making friends in school, and often was on the receiving end of teasing from other classmates - so he focused on his studies and would count the days until he was going to be able to return home. Right before he turned thirteen, however, he was asked to return home unexpectedly. Home was somewhere that was always filled with positive memories - but not on this account, as he’d quickly learn that his mother was gravely ill. She’d been under the weather for a long time, blaming it on the seasons - but she never seemed to get better, just getting weaker and weaker. When he returned to the family estate, he never would think that it’d just be another day and his mother would be gone.

Buried right beside the rose garden on the estate, it seemed that without her positivity and light Adam’s life began to take a turn into darkness. His father was now the only person he could rely on, and from his youth, Adam had always seen him as a cold person - the exact opposite of who his mother was. But the more time his father would spend with him, the more Adam began to see the benefits of not being someone who was ruled by their heart. His father had reached his status through working hard and being unswayed by people looking for his help, looking for pity, looking for assistance. Adam worked closely with his father over the next few years, his father showing him the way that his architecture firm ran, and how it would one day be Adam’s responsibility to oversee it. It seemed that within an instant, his mother’s presence in the home and in his life was gone - her rose garden wilted without anyone to attend it, her belongings were packed up and put into storage - and in exchange of them, his father had become the dominant person in his life.

Once Adam had graduated from school and taken a role within the firm as his father’s partner, his outlook on the world had become completely jaded. Humanity gave him nothing - only taking from him and knocking him when he was down. There was no point in working to give back to the world when it refused to give back to him. And so, he became a shadow of his father - cold and cruel and uncaring about others that didn’t benefit him. When his father announced the biggest undertaking the firm had seen - an overhaul of a well-known yet rundown neighborhood - Adam was there at his side, head held high as they cut the metaphorical ribbon. The street was filled with abandoned buildings, and had quickly become a frequent place for the homeless and poor to stay within - and the firm planned to completely demolish everything, and create a luxury avenue of sky-high apartment buildings and shopping plazas. There was little backlash, as it was positioned as giving back to the community - but was truly so that Adam’s father could charge insane rental costs and pad his own wallet. The poor couldn’t do that for him, so there was no point in keeping those buildings.

However, on the first day of demolition, everything fell apart. The firm hadn’t adequately surveyed the properties, making sure that all of the squatters had been relocated. They simply went ahead with the wrecking of the buildings - only to find out a day later that there had been a few people inside of it at the time, and they’d all been killed when the building came down. The architecture firm was disgraced, published on every headline of every paper within the entire city, crucifying them and everything that they’d done. The spotlight was appropriately placed onto the leaders of the endeavor - Adam, and his father - and how they’d heartlessly done this. Adam, on one hand, was shaken - that was never the intention, and to think that he’d had a hand in it was upsetting. His father, though, took the easy way out of the damning spotlight - a rope tightly around the neck, not even leaving a note behind.

And so, the disgrace was Adam’s, and Adam’s alone to bear. He dissolved the entire firm as soon as he could, hoping that by doing so, it’d provide some relief to the incessant attention. Whatever assets were left to the company were given to the city and the families of those who were affected, hoping to avoid a lawsuit. The money was gone, the popularity was gone - everything was gone. But rather than trying to take a step in a new direction, Adam became bitter and angry. The world had taken everything from him - chewed him up and spit him out without any sort of regard. He closed himself off from the rest of the public, preferring solidarity over the possibility of being recognized and having to answer to what he’d done. He took a lowly job that would allow him to not have to deal with anyone, and quickly and effectively removed himself from the world as he knew it.

A hand mirror. Ornate with jewels and rose etchings along the handle and and trim, it was a belonging of his mother’s before she passed. She would use it every day as she got ready for the day - and even as a little boy, she’d bring him onto her lap and he’d be fascinated by how it was possible to see himself in this tiny piece of glass. As he grew older, he may not have had the same playfulness or carefree nature that he previously did, but the hand mirror remained a constant - whether it was within his mother’s life, or his own. She’d use it frequently, using it to apply her makeup or adjust her hair when she was well. When she was unwell, she’d use it to look at the darkening bags under her eyes, the gauntness of her cheeks, the paleness of her skin. When she passed away, Adam was still barely a teen, and though his father packed up most of his mother’s belongings for safekeeping, as he would say - Adam kept the mirror, stealing it from a crate and hiding it in one of his bureau drawers. It was a foolish thing to keep, as he had little use for it - but when he holds it and when he looks into it, it’s almost as if he can still feel her presence. 

[amandaj718]

Emmerdale Live and Organized - August 15, 2017

Look alive! It’s a Maxine episode, and you know what that means. Good times ahead. Are jackets baked potatoes? Just the American asking the questions here.

The Bartons

That’s right. Your evidence is missing. *evil laugh*

Finn is on the case! You should join forces with Laurel. She needs some backup after Bob ditched her pretty behind.

Nice swerve there Emma. Look at her Finn. She isn’t acting normal. Her face looks like she always sees ghosts!

It's not every day a Barton gets married! Duh. *ha*

Moira. I’m worried for Moira all of a sudden. *Emma will direct some anger somewhere! Oh god*

I won’t lie. Finn figuring out things makes more sense than Ross or Pete. Finn is the intuitive one. Usually. We all have our moments.

Yes! Laurel/Finn the new Sherlock and Holmes. Shut up Bob (No. I’m sorry. I love you, Bob!)

Pete and Moira. Show. Did you forget or do you remember? *talk to me show. Talk to me!*

Adam being pulled into this feels forced, but I’ll go with it. (Re: Pete and Priya)

Hey, Adam. Sarah is a Dingle-SUGDEN. Just saying. Stop erasing the name. Sugden is a legacy.

OH MY GOD. SHE ADMITTED TO SOME OF IT. Emma! This is insane! *CRAZY FAN SCREAM*

IT’S OUT. The secret is out to Finn. Now what?

Emma and Finn are near Ashley’s window. Hmmmm. Confessing to Finn, God, and Ashley? Interesting juxtaposition.

OH. Finn has done some extreme stuff for love. Believe me.

I’m very impressed with Joe Gill. Very impressed. With the right material, he just shines. *Snaps all around*

That is a lot of pressure for Finn to carry around. He isn’t strong. He will break. Maybe by October? *wink*

Frank/Megan/Leyla

Leyla’s eyes are mine when I see wedding dresses. *not getting married but I enjoy the dress*

“That dress is dead to me now!” – Leyla *HA. Love that*

It’s the dress from the wedding shoot in June! *awwwww*

Frank is being nice. I kind of feel bad for him now.

I wonder if Megan is starting to fall back in love with him? Maybe? No. Maybe not.

The Café Crew

Sarah and Cain are adorable. Still not over Cain babysitting.

“Isn’t Jesus your boss?” – Sarah *Smartass. Love her*

Sarah. A true Dingle-Sugden. I’m proud of her. *proud tears*

Shut up, Adam. *just a normal response. He didn’t deserve it that time*

I’m not a fan of baby’s breath either Emma. It's filler flower. Cheap.

Ah. THE DRESS. That dress has seen a lot in its time. Lots of things. *awkward glance*

My mom burned her dress from her first wedding. It happens, Finn.

That one extra is watching Finn and Emma. That would be me as an extra. Taking notes and watching like I’m a fan.

Davids

The two of them questioning Frank so much is cute. Even if its strained at best.

Love hearing Jacob has Josh’s back. Very cute. *Friendship is Forever!*

Leyla/Priya/Pete

Bringing Moira into this is interesting. Keeping her close. Considering what went down that is very interesting. Show. I see you.

Leyla is too pure for this world…right now. It is a soap after all. *wink*

Church

Tracy is in the choir? Ok then.

Cain dealing with the god squad is kind of funny.

Cain. The ultimate bad boy being tamed by Harriet is kind of lame, but I’ll deal with it. As long as Coira is still on the horizon.

By the way. God bless Coira fans. They have waited and waited and are so sweet to Robron fans who can’t freaking wait for anything. God bless them. Seriously. Coira fans are the real MVPs of Emmerdale.

Moira’s Farm

Oh god. Pete is talking to the cows or something. Pete is just…a mess of a human. Usually, I enjoy that but not this time. Nope.

Do you know why you feel something weird, Leyla? There was something between them. Its something secret and I’m waiting for that time bomb to come out.

Yeah. Adam isn’t that smart to figure that out, but I’ll let it go.

OH HEY. Mini rant warning: Pete has cheated on Leyla twice. He is constantly lying. Adam will lie for him too. Ross won’t bat an eye at him since he slept with Debbie’s while she was marrying Pete. Emma killed her husband. Moira cheated twice. Adam cheated on every girlfriend he has ever had. However…Robert is the scum of the village? NOPE. Anti’s to the left to the left. Everything you hate about Robert can be put to a box to the left.

OH. REALLY ADAM. REALLY?!?! You get a pass because you were messed up? Robert was more messed up than you, and he gets shit? FUCK YOU. Hypocrite. Asshole. Ok. I’m done now.

WOW. Sarah. You have a beautiful voice. Love this is playing in the church. I wish church were like that for me at Sarah’s age. Sadly, it wasn’t.

Weddings are about family you dingus. It’s about two families coming together to celebrate love. You dumbass Adam.

“There is no way in a million years I’d cheat on her again.” – BULLSHIT. Adam is full of shit.

‘It’s Just Speculation!’

As per usual: Stay off the message boards, respect each other’s opinions, breathe, reboot and eat a Snickers. If you want to talk theory or the show come on over to my twitter and Tumblr @AmandaJ718

Until next time, see you around in Emmerdale!

[floggingink]

Riverdale: “Chapter Twelve: Anatomy of a Murder”

this is the penultimate episode of Riverdale, I can’t believe this is happening, I’m frothing at the mouth

Veronica was rich: “We’re not talking about the Vogue closet here, B.” the sheer fabulous gall of Veronica is—is exhilarating. “It’s not the Met ball.” this is the trailer of the man she just BURGLED

Archie > Dawson: the same goes for Archie’s newfound, forthright belief in truth, justice, and the American way: “My dad will know what to do.” isn’t Archie on Jughead’s side the greatest thing you’ve ever seen? isn’t this BETTER than inexplicably outing him as the son of a trans-Canadian mobster? isn’t this BETTER than letting the Mongol hordes swarm into his house in the middle of Jughead’s birthday party? isn’t this the BEST THING EVER?

the Andrews have some truly calm nature scene reproductions hanging on their walls

Please protect Betty: Betty, who does not know where Jughead is, is close, CLOSE to strangling Alice: “MOM, no, we JUST told you.” “MOM. YOU were the one ASKED Veronica to break IN.”

Certified pedigree: the dynamics among the four parents: “ALICE.”

Archie looks quite nice, in his own dopey soft bro way, with his dress shirt untucked under his blazer, and his Converses

Fred’s comment how “FP may have ruined Jughead’s life” puts into words something awful

our girl Betty wears ankle-cut sky blue Polo Ralph Lauren socks to bed. to, you know, go with her boxers

the female gaze: Archie is so stressed that he’s put a shirt on

I love the dumb thing people on TV do when they text and then use that person’s name in the message, or sign off with their name, as if the receiver doesn’t know who they themselves are or don’t have their friend in their contacts and would be getting such a text anonymously: I’m sure there’s something like “Meet me at 8 - Blair” a thousand times on Gossip Girl, you know

God, that show was terrible

HOWEVER, Betty very sweetly capitalizes “Arch” but not “jughead,” which is extremely realistic and she’s nervous right now so “Arch” is for emphasis, okay

his friends going behind his back, his father arrested for murder, and the family trailer torn to pieces, Drama Prince Jughead Jones goes straight to THE BUS STATION to get a TRAIN TICKET to go to OHIO

then has a moment of Type-B forethought and calls ahead

his slow, delayed delivery of “I...got a bus ticket...to Toledo” betrays his TERROR at committing to this weirdness and being potentially rejected

he’s rejected

by his mother

can’t sleep in the bus terminal!!! REJECTED

Veronica’s shimmery silky blue pajama set

“Pack a bag, just in case”: what would Veronica put in an emergency overnight bag? character study prompt

Gay?!:  Archie has YET ANOTHER brainwave and leads them to the bus station, and I don’t care how long the delay is until he learns he was right, he just missed Jughead by a half-hour, HE WAS RIGHT. Archie is basically Jughead’s Sam Spade

I like the run-around of missing and finding Jughead, which serves no purpose other than passing time tensely and demonstrating that Archie can think of things and Veronica can think of things

the implied conversation Betty and Archie had wherein they live next to each other and can run somewhere quickly together and that there was “no time” to wait for Veronica to get over there

Jughead eats: Jughead, in his sorrows, ordered a very hot cup of coffee

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: and plopped his hat on the tabletop, out of exhaustion

his ANGUISHED WHISPER, “What are you talking about?” Jughead, honestly, this child, JUGHEAD

BRILLIANCE having FP lie about stealing the murder files to cement his innocence. obviously he couldn’t have murdered Jason because he’s been arrested for murdering Jason and this would betray television. but Keller’s like, “You broke into my house?” and FP is like...someone broke into this shit’s house and I have to fucking say yes to this? Did I fucking kidnap the fucking Lindbergh baby too? What the fuck?

Veronica put her Homecoming jacket back on? round of applause for Veronica

Jughead STARING at his father being LED AWAY in HANDCUFFS having CONFESSED TO MURDER YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS

the WOOOOOM. WOOOOOM. soundtrack is very Dust Brothers’ Fight Club

the Blossom breakfast spread is NICE. waffles, lots of mixed berries, raspberry mimosas or something, like, waffles, WAFFLES!!!

Cheryl is either wearing a massive choker or else her sweater itself has metallic studs on the high neck, with a spider pin ON TOP OF THEM, like an insane Elizabethan lady

Polly’s aborted “He killed Jason? Not…” is like—WAY too dangerous! Jesus, Polly!

Penelope’s black blouse with the red poppy print is the most normal mom-thing she’s ever worn

Clifford Blossom was ALLOWED to sit with FP in the interrogation room? I have never seen THAT on Law & Order

Archie at lunch that day is in a tight, bright blue Henley like Steve Rogers wears under his Captain America suit in The Avengers

Archie is also eating some sort of vanilla pudding in a cup

SECRET HOLDING HANDS!!!!!!

Jughead walking into the cafeteria is the stuff of legends, but there’s a girl sitting at one of the tables as he walks past, and she’s in a denim romper with a lavender pastel turtleneck and a curly bob and a pink smokey eye and she must be SEEN to be believed

Cheryl’s sheaths: Cheryl is wearing a red high-waisted miniskirt, cropped black sweater, off-black hose, red velvet leg warmers, shiny red pumps

remember how Cheryl ruined his birthday party like last week and now he’s coming up to her to apologize for something he didn’t do?

CLASSIC!!!!! CLASSIC!!!! WALLOPING on the chest of a boy who only tangentially did the Bad Thing as he stands there and takes it out of STOIC GUILT

you think Cheryl “knows” FP didn’t do it and decides to pity-guilt-love-hate slap the shit out of Jughead anyway? I have a lot of feelings about Cheryl and Jughead that I didn’t know I had, especially in the wake of RAS’s “two sides of the same coin” tweet. the operatic tragedies of their lives are so parallel, or at least perpendicular, that honestly they’re going to be intertwined, as emotional empathetic humans, for the rest of their Riverdale lives. Jughead’s tragedy sleeps on the floor and Cheryl’s is luxurious terror and ABSOLUTELY SILENT dinner parties with honey-glazed hams, but really if you rebrand Jughead from the “son of a local gang leader” to an “heir to a Mafia family,” you almost create a Cheryl. look, he wears a hat, she wears a lot of red. they’re both odd. they’re obsessed not with murder, but with Jason’s murder. they’re obsessed with themselves. they crave spectacle, drama, gossip, and they trust no one, and they know they are alone, because they’ve isolated themselves and no one quite speaks their language. and they’re fixated on the Cooper girls. CHERYL AND JUG

it all comes to a sadomasochistic head, anyway, luridly, really greatly, with Cheryl beating the hell out of Jughead’s chest, as the Drama Ho just stands there and clearly plans on standing there until Cheryl stops

Archie HAULS her off of him like Moose HAULED Jughead off of Reggie

“He was apologizing! He didn’t do anything wrong!”

Cheryl’s a psychopath: “I barely touched him,” says Cheryl, as Jughead’s mouth bleeds

it took twelve episodes for Jughead to call someone “a dick”

honestly my favorite Jughead moment of the night is the way he stops walking and rubs the inside corner of his eye, out of fucks to give, a little repeating Jughead tic, perfectly timed

just as Jughead told Betty she was the only thing holding her family together, right now frankly Betty is holding the Joneses together too

What damn high school in America: the Bee certainly knew to call Mr. Andrews specifically to talk to about Jughead

“Well, can we call? The school board?” PRECIOUS ARCHIE. there’s always someone else he can try and talk to. always another recourse. it might be dumb as fuck but he is out there trying

“Good thing mom’s a lawyer!” Archie’s Step Two is his father adopting Jughead Jones. I am throttling wild animals for Archie rn

Archie’s voice cracks at “Jug.” after Jughead says he’s sleeping in the garage

Jughead is sleeping in the GARAGE. when was the last time he slept in a real bed? literally years?

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: Alice is clearly thrilled at possibly getting to shoot someone

I want it on the record that I said “He WAS a Blossom” right BEFORE Hal said it and thus should receive screenwriting royalties from the CW

Betty has to tell everyone she’s a Blossom by blood now. she has to go to Archie and tell him she’s related to Cheryl. she has to tell Jughead. over the next couple of days, I’m going to try and imagine Jughead’s reaction

These students are legally children: remember the pilot of Riverdale? where Betty’s biggest problem was that her mom didn’t want her to be a cheerleader? look now, children. poisoned milkshakes. Jughead Jones in a white tank top. Catholic pregnancy asylums. football drug mules. psychologically astute references to Romeo and Juliet. the concept of a “Dark Betty.” a symbolic pearl necklace, of familial blackmail. murder, over maple syrup. and incest: so much incest that we thought it was going to be one kind of incest, but it turned out that that incest was just a red herring and the actual incest was this other incest

Thornhill has some incredible glass windows inside the foyer. like some Tiffany Deco shit. am I making this up? yes. it’s nice glass~

Best costume bit: Polly’s pajamas are black with a white bow print, because Polly

bit rich of any hypothetical Riverdale character to cite their family as the “mentally stable” family

Alice has a butterfly pin on her trench coat that she just keeps there, or else she tosses it on en route, Hal driving furiously

“Nothing could be more purely Blossom than those babies.” OOOOOOOOOOOH MY GOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDD SHE SAID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: Polly is HORRIFIED, she is no longer carrying “her boyfriend’s babies,” she is now carrying “intra-Blossom spawn”

Cliff trots out the third cousins/“Jane Austen people did this all the time” defense, “Tutankhamun’s mother was also his aunt,” “This is why Alexei had hemophilia”

actually I think Polly and Jason (and Cheryl, and Betty) are second cousins, if they share the same great-grandparents. the number of G’s is the number of cousins

the look on Penelope’s face when she grabbed Betty and tried her last “You’ve made a mistake” move and Betty DOESN’T look taken aback in the least

Jughead at Pop’s after he got some sleep has turned the corner from utter despair to channeling his pain into quips, all is back to normal: “Don’t forget that pesky confession.”

his morbid, defensive flippancy grosses Archie out, as it did in the second episode

Jughead reading the list of his father’s sins aloud, starting to cry

the pervasive blues and greys inside the cell

FP still dressed in his T-shirt and flannel, lounging on his cot like some possibility, some paralyzing tarot card of Jughead’s future

Fifth period is AP English: clearly what cuts deepest for Jug was his father only reading his writing to see what he thought about the murder, TENDER CHILD

FP yells at him! this propels Jughead across the floor! FP stands to join him at the bars! dynamic emoting, blocking!

“I’m sorry I got caught. We done?” is FP’s version of the thing, I don’t even know where it’s from, like a little boy trying to get his dog that he loves to run away from him: “Go! Go on! Get out of here! GET OUT OF HERE YOU STUPID DOG I LOVE.”

the miniscule instant between his father telling him never to come back and him saying “Got it,” Jughead is figuring some SHIT OUT! this boy should be bathed in overcast blue Pacific Northwest lighting all the time, because it makes his astrological beauty marks stand out and his lips look violet like he’s drowned and Jughead should always look a little post-mortem, like a little consumptive, a little ill. The Ring had really good cinematography, okay

the frankly Ingmar Bergman shot of FP bearing down on Jughead with the prison bar perfectly bisecting his face

Kevin coming through at Joaquin’s interrogation! already better at this than his dad!

Jason LITERALLY wore that all-white outfit for his “running through the woods tf out of here” errand, Jesus, the Blossoms

Kevin, choking back tears: “You. Are a criminal.” yeah, you knew this, Kev

Jughead doubts it: THANK YOU, JUGHEAD IS FINALLY TALKING TO BETTY AGAIN FOR REAL, THANK GOD, HOLY GOD LET’S ALL GET BACK TOGETHER HERE GUYS

good JESUS Mustang’s corpse covered in like infected needle marks and shit???? but we can’t say “abortion” in this time slot???

unexpected touching moment of Archie starting to cry in his dad’s truck, overwhelmed by the awfulness of seeing a dead body, a local motel

honestly it’s about time Hermione Lodge dramatically collapsed into tears

Sixth Period is Intro to Film: OH YOU KNOW JOAQUIN’S ON A BUS TO SAN JUNIPERO

Gay.: nice kiss too boys!!!!!! Joaquin is getting out of town before FP has him killed from prison

Cheryl’s pins: the brooch clasped at Penelope’s throat over her deep purple blouse is old school

Cheryl’s hair: the perfect coil of red hair over her left shoulder is BACK

something about Cheryl calling them “mommy” and “daddy” and “Jay-Jay” is like so self-aware-ed-ly infantilizing and treading-on-glass and pretending there’s like a status quo to the hierarchy of their family and it’s how careful Cheryl has to be navigating her house and how she like adores her Blossomity yet fears the Blossoms, YOU KNOW? CHERYL? GOD?

Penelope is going to dissociate at this fireplace until she is forced out of it

uuummmmnnnnn honestly when Penelope purred “So many questions, Cheryl,” I thought Cheryl was officially going to be killed

I missed you, Murder Board

Penelope hauling Cheryl out in the squelchy mud to the big red barn, speaking of The Ring

“The police found another dead body.” “Okay, maybe not that.”

okay, so FP told Joaquin to leave for his own safety from...other people. turns out FP is kind of decent

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: there are officially tears of overstimulating in Jughead’s eyes as their flashlight beams all highlight “Jason”

Jughead has moved on to the “acceptance” stage of processing his father’s guilt, which in turn cements Betty’s doubt into refusal

“Betty, this is weird.” no, this is PERFECT

Veronica is confused but game, Jughead looks politely interested

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica, chiming in: “Or my Mont Blanc.”

the Blossom corpse: Sad Breakfast Club were some nervous children watching the snuff tape, but I’m willing to be they were not as nervous AS ME WATCHING THEM WATCH THE SNUFF TAPE, SPEAKING OF THE RING

I also like the in-character blocking of the way they sat and took it in: Veronica leans forward, Archie and Betty are very still, Jughead has his hands steepled in front of his mouth, Betty’s eyes water

Veronica, again the Queen of Bedside Empathy, finally bursts her dam and starts to cry, Archie puts his hand on Jughead’s shoulder in soft bro comfort

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: BETTY TELLS CHERYL THE PHONE CALLS ARE COMING FROM INSIDE HER HOUSE

I WAS ONE TENSE BITCH WHILE CHERYL WALKED DOWN HER STAIRCASE

Riverdale absolutely delivered with the extreme close-up of Cheryl’s Realizing Eyes, like the extreme close-up of Betty’s Realizing Eyes at Homecoming, her spidery black mascara and pink smokey eye, the single tear

Cheryl FOR REAL descends this staircase like the most tragic betrayed princess, like a Tudor queen, walking to her death, of all time, ever, if only Jughead could see this

Mother and Father are apparently eating salad and rolls without her

there are truly no words to totally encompass the magnanimous drama, the scope, the lurid horrifying beauty, the undiluted essence of Riverdale, Riverdale in one cosmic blip, one instant of true art grasped from the void that is Cheryl standing at her mother’s side and saying “You did a bad thing, daddy.”

more surprising to me than the fact that Clifford did it is the fact that Penelope didn’t know

LOL turns out FP was being a great father all along! but he was doing it in the most FP way possible!!!!! by going to prison LOLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!

was Clifford Blossom going to SHOOT JUGHEAD IN THE FACE? aiight, you’d have to find him first, dude

“My dad was protecting me from a monster.”

WHAT IS JUGHEAD SAYING TO SHERIFF KELLER, TELL ME

Mary Andrews picks up her bag and walks out into the mist like the priest at the end of The Exorcist

the TOTEMIC MASTERPIECE of Penelope and Cheryl, mother and daughter, at their staggered heights, pointing simultaneously towards the fucking barn

“Damn good coffee”: Clifford committed suicide old school, like Penelope’s brooch, he didn’t shoot himself in the mouth, okay, he hanged himself on a barrel full of syrup & drugs. RIP the OG Riverdale gangster

NEXT WEEK: Archie punches the snow!!!!!!!!!

[gograciebaby]

So uh, about that family of Maggie’s-

Idk if I mentioned his before butt Maggie has lots of siblings n stuff so uhm yea

Here’s like ½ of Mags fam so far o//w//o (LONG WRITING WARNING)

(LEFT) Tammy and Xandi (formally named Tamitha and Alexandria on their birth certificates) are Maggie’s younger twin sisters in her family and still live at home with their mother Lottie while Maggie still lives in another state in her own home. They really like visiting their sister and often ask their mother when they will be able to do that often. But why? You see, her twins sisters’ favorite holiday is Thanksgiving because Tammy gets to dress up and Xandi gets to eat food, but more importantly, the most valuable reason is because they get to see Maggie’s husband (Foxy) Frank who the underage girls have a mega-crush on for some weird reason. They are 17 years old and are literally counting down the day they can turn 18 so they can legally hit on their brother-in-law. Other than that creepy factor, the girls are often seen enjoying getting dressed up, talking about boys, reading magazines, or just spending quality teenage sister bonding time with each other.

(RIGHT) Lucy (formally named Lucille) May is Maggie’s older sister and oldest child in the May house all together. Born in 1952, she lived a healthy middle-class life, going as far as reaching most popular in her class and living a rather spoiled life over all that make her somewhat stuck up in the end unfortunately. She graduated at she age of 18, and with a scholarship in England moved there to go to college in hope of a sufficient degree. This plan however came to a halt when Lucy unexpectedly got pregnant by an unknown man out of wedlock at the cusp of womanhood, becoming a mother just at the age of 19. Because of Lucy growing up in a strict Catholic family, the idea of terminating a pregnancy or getting an abortion was not a friendly option to her and her family, so she kept the baby instead and on June 15th, 1970, Lucy gave birth to a healthy baby girl named Betty. Thinking this would be a falter in her path, Lucy didn’t think much about perusing her dreams anymore up until when she visited a local drug store and in 1975 won the lottery of 3 million dollars. With this newly found money, Lucy set out and created her own business and clothing line, creating a business tycoon across England in the late 70’s and early 80’s. From this, Lucy became an extreme celebrity and millionaire, cashing over 35 million a year from this industry. Unfortunately, as everyone knows, with money comes a price. As the sales skyrocketed, Lucy forgot more and more about Betty, even to the point of not even remembering her own daughter’s baby. This was detrimental to the child, not only not having a father in her life, but also constantly being forgot by the own person that conceived her just because of money. Betty was sent to boarding school at the age of just 7 to ‘get out of her mother’s hair’ so the business could expand. When Betty arrived back, Lucy was less than pleased. Not knowing what to do, Lucy then got a great idea- the idea of sending Betty all the way from the U.K. to America to go live with her Aunt Madeline in favor of cash. Her aunt declined the money, but it was still sent anyway. Lucy now resides in Buckinghamshire, in her lonely, royal throne- sitting on a pile of empty savings.

Carol (Formally named Carolina and nicknamed Lottie sometimes) is Maggie’s mother and Frank’s (Foxy’s) Mother-in-law who is very less than pleased with Maggie’s lifestyle and choices. Raising six children and taking care of one husband, this woman of iron is one tough cookie, and has been through a lot in her entire lifetime. Just at the age of 16, Carol was thrown out of her own house by her own mother for dating a black man, which was highly forebode and controversial in the rich, white, home in 1950’s southern America at the time. After being kicked out and left with only her boyfriend and her belongings, Carol and Larry (Maggie’s mom and dad) headed North to Maine, where society toned down a bit for them and it was just barely acceptable for the interracial couple. The two eventually married that same year at the age of 16, and had their first child named Lucille at the young age of 19. A couple years later when the two eventually got a middle-class house and settled in, they decided they wanted a second child to try to create a healthy nuclear family in the early 60’s. Hoping for a healthy baby boy, the couple was more than shocked to find out they were having a girl instead. But the part that really struck the two was that when the baby was born, she was white. Too white. Because of Carol’s constant smoking during he pregnancy and the albinism gene in Carol’s side of the family, the baby girl who was named Madeline (Maggie for short), was born albino and ended up looking nothing like their her mother nor father. While Carol was very bothered the child was not like “normal” children, Larry was more than happy and it was widely considered that Maggie was his favorite child out of all six children. Years later when Lucy entered high school and Maggie was in her 1st year of middle school, the family was once again blessed with another baby, this time the baby not being one, but two. The couple had a pair of twins whom they named Alexandria and Tammitha (Xandi and Tammy for short) and were a bit winded after in he resulting pregnancy. Life was pretty good after that- Larry working two jobs as a factory worker and having a history of being a war solider and Carol working as a local teacher at a school for young children. Lucy eventually graduated shortly after this, turning 18 and moving out along with her dignity. After that though, that’s when things started to go down hill. A year after Lucy went off to college, the family was met with three major incidents that would change their family forever. One day Carol fell very ill, and a doctor was sent to the home to make sure she didn’t have any major disease or sickness that would spread or kill her. When the doctor arrived, they were told some shocking news- Carol was once again pregnant- but this time was an accident. Again, with having strong catholic influences, Carol refused to terminate the pregnancy and on February 14th, 1970, Carol gave birth to a set of twins; a boy and a girl named William Robert and Jessalyn Jane (Billy Bob [BB] and Jessie J [JJ] for short) at the prominent age of 37. The more disturbing fact however was that shortly after the older couple had their children, they received a letter from their oldest Lucy, informing the couple that not only were they new parents again, but now also grandparents- because at the same time Carol was pregnant, Lucy was too from an unknown man out of wedlock and shame. Disgusted by that fact and incident, Carol from then on went on to shun Lucy out from her life after her own daughter bringing that shame to their family in that way. After seeing the only “pure” and “smart” child left was Maggie, Carol started to shape Maggie harder and faster to become the perfect purity daughter she always wanted. And unfortunately, it worked. From that point on, Maggie was told not to put any form of makeup on, not to dress in anything that didn’t cover her shoulders or ankles, not to talk to boys or men, and definitely not to engage in sexual encounters with anything, even herself, being taught it was a sin and she would face consequence and the everlasting burning in hell in the afterlife if she did any of these things. Even though it was embarrassing, she was also forced by her mother to consume birth control, Carol doing everything she could to prevent anything bad happening to her only pure child left. Negative effects that stemmed from this were that Maggie became extremely antisocial and began to be picked on in school harder than ever not only for her appearance, but her oddly Catholic family and the fact that she was made fun of for still having not lost her virginity and graduating as the only “pure” student in the entire catholic school. News became more detrimental when Larry suddenly got a letter saying his number came up, and to the dark truth, was drafted in the war suddenly. Larry was abruptly ripped out of both Maggie and Carol’s lives, and life was very different from then on. When things were just starting to get better for the family, events went down hill when on he day of Maggie’s high school graduation, Maggie had received a letter that would change her life forever, and there was no tuning back. The letter stated Maggie’s dad had been killed, and became just another casualty in the war that was Vietnam. Depressed by this news, Carol sent Maggie to college to grieve, hoping it would help for the both to have some time apart. And it did- sort of. It would be almost another decade before Carol saw her second child again, and she was less than pleased on what Maggie had to show. By this time Maggie had dyed her hair to pink, was wearing clothing that went above her knees and showed her shoulders, and gotten a boyfriend named Frank Fox jr (who liked to be called foxy as a nickname), a rough sailor who thought he was a pirate and was an all-around person that did not phase Carol one bit. At first Carol had a fit, and was very displeased at what Maggie had become, disapproving of both her stylistic and romance choices, not accepting any of it and trying to block it out. Eventually though, when Maggie told her mother she was getting married to Frank later in the years, Carol finally warmed up just a bit from her icy attitude and ultimately accepted him into the family after the two wed. Carol now resides as a single mother and grandmother in Maine with her four children left, trying to make the best of what was a very broken home.

[differentpersonafire-blog]

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Stanford Commencement June 2005

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That’s it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: “We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?” They said: “Of course.” My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents’ savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn’t see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn’t interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn’t all romantic. I didn’t have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends’ rooms, I returned Coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn’t have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and sans serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can’t capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But 10 years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it’s likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backward 10 years later.

Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents’ garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4,000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn’t know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down — that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the world’s first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple’s current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I’m pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith. I’m convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don’t settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure — these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn’t even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor’s code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you’d have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I’m fine now.

This was the closest I’ve been to facing death, and I hope it’s the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960s, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors and Polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: It was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: “Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.” It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.