#I was putting together a beautiful organized post and a) ran out of time b) ran up against the image limit

[maybe-i-will-fandom]

eah gift exchange 2024!

My @eah-exchange gift for @champion-of-love! Happy Holidays, Stephanie!! I hope you like it!

(Sidenote - someone please let me know if there is a collection for this on Ao3 that I should post this to. I tried but it said it couldn't find any called "eah gift exchange 2024")

Summary: The Pink Squad are throwing another spellebration for a long-lost party Headmaster Grimm doesn't approve of: Destiny Swap Day.

Stephanie, I took inspiration from some of your tumblr posts. I meant for this to be 3-4 chapters but finals hit me harder than expected so I ran out of time. I'm going to try to finish it later!

It's behind a login wall, so if you don't have Ao3 I put the chapter below the Read More here :)

The alarm clock shouted at her. Briar bolted up in bed awake. What day was it? How long had she been out? She checked her mirror phone and sighed in relief. It was just the next day; she’d only been asleep for 6 hours. 

Mornings were hard for Briar. Just another (not) hexciting part of being the next Sleeping Beauty. Every time she woke up, she was struck by fear that she’d just taken her destined sleep. That no one and nothing had been able to wake her, and she’d been gone for so long that her friends had all moved on. Either to the next life or just, moved on from her. 

That was always her biggest fear: losing her friends. She never wanted to bum anyone out though, so she didn’t mention it much. She’d brought it up one night, after a particularly epic page ripper of a party, when she, Cupid, and Hopper were all hanging out on her bed together after and the 3am of it all had her spilling her guts to them. ‘The Wakies Scaries’, Hopper had dubbed it. Cupid had booed and Briar had thrown a pillow at him, but she appreciated it. She would never admit this while sober, but giving it such a dumb name had helped her be less frightened by it every time she woke up. She still got them, but she was learning to deal with it. It was way more hard to be scared of something with such a silly name. 

She took a moment to revel in being alive and awake, just like her mom’s healer had suggested she do to feel more grounded. Then she checked her mirror phone, eager to catch up on everything she’d missed in her 6 hours out. 

[Notifications Center]

Apple White to Me: I’m fairy hexcited for your party! I just wanted to check - you three are not going to break any school rules right? I know Headmaster Grimm usually d...

👑🐸 better as a frog 🐸👑to Pink Squad ♥️💗❣️💟🥰: ‘679 messages since last night?’ You’re killing me! Time to start my daily scroll ig. The things I do for this group smhmh 

👑🐸 better as a frog 🐸👑to Pink Squad ♥️💗❣️💟🥰: {message reply} LMFCOOOO HE TOTALLY WOULD 

Head Fairy In Charge to Me: I better be getting an invite to ur stupid little party tonight, Briar. Duchess told me u tricked her out of ur last secret party. Ykw I’ll do to u if... 

👑🐸 better as a frog 🐸👑 to Pink Squad ♥️💗❣️💟🥰: {message reply} bruh ok just @ my frog breath next time geez😭

✨Farrah✨ to Me, Cupid💗, ✨Farrah✨, Ginger B., Hopper: Hi party people! I have lunch plans but I can come over any time after 2pm to help make things that will last to midnight! 

Ginger B. to Me, Cupid💗, ✨Farrah✨, Ginger B., Hopper: and let me know what time to bring the snacks! I have everything prepped, just need to know when to start the oven hehe

👑🐸 better as a frog 🐸👑 to Pink Squad ♥️💗❣️💟🥰: {message reply} ok and????? I rocked those heels better than she ever could 💅💅😤💪

👑🐸 better as a frog 🐸👑 to Pink Squad ♥️💗❣️💟🥰: {is typing...}

She really loved her friends. 

Hopper blearily scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head awake. He took his mirrorphone and bathroom kit and headed for the hall bath, already scrolling through the 500+ messages from the Pink Squad groupchat in the time that he was asleep. He likes to start his morning by scrolling through everything he missed between Briar and Cupid last night and replying with his thoughts. 

Frogs usually sleep 12-16 hours a day. So since he’s part frog, he needs more sleep than most people. So he misses out on a lot of the texting people do at night. He used to like to start his days every morning by going through and replying on every groupchat he was in. It made him feel like, even though he wasn’t there when the conversation was happening live, he could still be a part of it. But then one day Sparrow had made fun of him for doing it in the Bookball Team chat. And even though Daring, Dex, and Hunter had all told Sparrow to knock it off and let Hopper do what he wants, ever since then he’d still been too embarrassed to do his mass-replies anymore. But he kept doing it in the pink squad, because he knew how much it meant to Briar. She’d said as much when the three of them were just starting to hang out together more. 

“I love the way you just jump right in as soon as you wake up,” she’d said. “Maybe you missed the main event while you were asleep, but that doesn’t matter because... you join as soon as you’re awake and it’s still like you were there with us. It makes me think maybe I’ll be able to do that. You are asleep for most of the good parts, but we don’t leave you out of it because we still love you. Hopefully, my friends will always still love me. Hopefully, when I’m asleep for the good parts, I’ll always be able to jump right back in too.” He had immediately teared up and pulled her into a hug before even thinking about it. 

Then, as soon as he’d realized he was hugging Briar , he’d turned into a frog and fallen out of her arms onto the ground with a wet squelch. Way to ruin the mood, Hopper.  

But that’s another testament to how far their friendship has come. Briar used to just be Briar - an intimidating, popular, enchantingly beautiful, unapproachable princess who could make him turn with just a simple look. Now, she was Briar - a good friend who he and Cupid can bare their souls and most secret thoughts to and she’ll find some way to make them sound lovely. Of course she was also still that popular, enchantingly beautiful princess, and she liked to make him turn with playful flirting and teasing every now and then. But their friendship now was stronger than his still-ever-present crush, and he was grateful for that.  

Briar and Cupid were true friends. He could be his whole self with them. They didn’t make a big deal of it when he turned, and when they laughed about it he truly felt like they were laughing with him, not at him. Cupid had come from a place where people could turn into lots of things, and that was normal. She’d helped him accept his frog-self quirks, and Briar had helped him accept his human-self ones. As far as he was concerned, they were the wisest princesses ever after. 

He scrolled in the groupchat to a picture Briar had taken of Cupid falling from the sky because she saw Dexter smile and forgot she could fly. 

Cupid felt the warmth of sunlight on her face and opened her eyes for a brand new day at Ever After High! She stood up and stretched her wings then looked around the room. Her, Briar, and Hopper were getting ready to throw another one of their signature spelltacular parties this weekend, so Cupid was already gathering some of the supplies in her and Blondie’s room. 

The party was for another long-forgotten holiday that Dexter had read about in a library book. He’d told her about it at lunch one day because “I know how much you like hosting parties, and this one used to happen every year! True Hearts Day and now Destiny Swap Day - I wonder what other Ever After Spellebrations have been lost to time! I should start looking for those when I’m in the library doing research. In fact, I think I’ll start right now!” then he’d pushed the book into her hands and run off all excited. Cupid had been distracted by his dreamy eyes the whole time and didn’t process where he’d run off to until a full three seconds after he’d left, but she’d read the book he left her that night. 

Destiny Swap Day was such a cool holiday! It centered around each student swapping destinies for a day - dressing up and going through the day as each other to better appreciate the important role each story plays. It reminded Cupid of the adventure she’d gone on with her friends on Thronecoming Day!

The party planning was coming together great, and Destiny Swap Day seemed like a fun way for all the students to get to know each other and their true selves better. Cupid should be happy! But for some reason, she’d been feeling a bit down these last few days. Destiny Swap Day would be fun. But it also reminded her of another holiday. One that made her miss her last school. 

The dressing up and late night spellebrating reminded her of Halloween. And even though her new friends at Ever After High were the fairy best friends a demigoddess could ask for, and she was hexcited to spread love and understanding to this new world, she did still miss her ghouls back at Monster High. She was usually able to push past her homesickness - for Mount Olympus and Monster High - but the Destiny Swap Day preparations were making it harder to do so lately. 

She usually tried to hide it when she was homesick. She didn’t want to make her Ever After friends sad, and she didn’t want them to feel like they were less important to her than her family back on Mount Olympus or her other friends back at Monster High. Plus, she was supposed to bring love and light and truth and all things happy! But, her friends had helped her see that missing people and places is just another part of loving them. And that missing, like loving, was an emotion she shouldn’t feel the need to hide that she felt deeply. 

She knew she needed some help cheering up. Luckily, Humphrey had given her the tools to get that help. She headed out to the courtyard and pressed the button on the Pink Squad groupchat for telling her friends her homesickness was hitting a bit too hard, and waited for her friends to come rescue her. 

[hellohellohellobingmetropcs]

Warnings: cursing

A/N: this took longer than it should I’m sososo sorry 🙁 I had fun writing this

Request: Heyyy can I request a fluffy nick imagine where the guys are on live and you make an appearance and you and nick have cute moments ( dating in this one ) 💕

“How you guys liking the new song so far?” Brandon asked, nodding to the beat of the newly leaked song playing faintly in the background.

All five guys were scattered across the basement seen doing something different throughout the Instagram live from the group account.

Zion’s voice was heard coming from the direction the thick smoke was coming from. Edwin’s attention fixed on his yo-yo, doing tricks he had shown you last week when he first bought it.

Your cheeks gloated a shade of pink seeing your boyfriend come to the screen. His white T-shirt/gold chain combo was a fave of yours that’d have you running to his house in your free time. Sadly you were all backed up with work and so was he so you’d have to settle for FaceTimes and text messages.

B ran his hands threw his hair, reading comments going up the screen. “Guys we’re grateful for all the love we’re receiving on this record. We wrote it, produced it, and recorded it all ourselves!”

your__username: so proud of you guys 💗

“Aye Nick” Brandon tapped him, motioning towards the screen. Nick’s laugh followed him to the screen, laughing from a previous joke Austin told.

“What’s up everybody?” he chuckled, rubbing his hands together subconsciously.

your__username: 😍😍

His smile grew as your comment caught his eye. Fans started to notice the shift in his demeanor, flooding the comments with your ship name.

You started dating officially about three months ago after months of a flirty friendship. Although he’s never declared the relationship exclusively to the public you’d have to a blind man to not see that you’re dating. You post pics with each other, be seen out in public, and even sub tweet— all the good social media stuff. Of course fans started to speculate stuff but without hardcore evidence, to their knowledge you was still his best friend.

He was shocked reading the good comments and compliments on you and the relationship. Knowing you’d rather not, he still took it upon himself to request to add you to the live. “I’m about to add her”

Knowing you’d probably decline, he still requested for you to be in his live. “IF she picks up y’all. She be acting Hollywood”

“Somebody said He’s a simp” was the first cackle from your mouth as you two connected over the screen.

“A simp? Pfttt neverrr”

“Nickkkk why would you do this to me? I look crazy in front of the whole world right now” you fake whined, pulling your hair back up into a ponytail.

“Look beautiful”

“Stopppp” you giggled, getting kinda embarrassed knowing the comments were flooded with his fan accounts and that they’d blow your notifications up with this moment for at least a month.

“Guys she always does this. Prettiest girl and she’s so shy”

Trying to take the attention off you, putting it back on the guys you just waved in the camera “Tell the rest of them I said heyy”

The guys quickly greeted you back. “Stop boo-lovin for the beanz” Edwin called out, still working on his yo-yo.

“someone said we’re their parents” you smiled at the comments running up your screen this late at night. Even with eye bags and messy hair his fans were still being sweet— the total opposite of what you had expected from them.

“You guys want baby Mara? Bet” nick winked

“A baby? Where he getting that from? The store?”

“C’mon you know I like my eggs organic”

“NICK—“ your hand slapped over your ‘O’ shaped lips at his dirty joke. “Keep it pg daddy the kids are listening”

“My fault mamas”

The drop in the octave of his voice plus the pet name made butterflies rile up in your tummy. You yawned into your oversized sweater, eyes wandering back to the textbook and laptop in front of you on your study desk. Before getting accidentally consumed in your phone you were scurrying to complete a 5 paragraph essay you’d been putting off for a while. Here it was, last minute— you had roughly about 2 hours before time ran out to submit your work online for sociology class.

“Alright Nick I’m about to finish this work. I’ll call you later or tomorrow, love you”

“Alright love, talk to you later”

You exited the live, bullshitting your last two paragraphs with uncertain Wikipedia facts.

“OUR BOY IS SOFTTTT” Zion shouted, nearly jumping on Nick. “You guys seen that? A FUCKIN MUFFIN FOR HIS GIRL”

Nick shrugged his friend off him, trying to run from the camera’s view.

That night Nick had waited up for that call which he received, falling asleep on FaceTime with you.

Masterlist

Taglist: @babygirlmil

[kanene-yaaay]

Reasons to Smile

Kanene's Notes: 

Reasons to smile:

Today wasn't a sunny day, and I wake up early, which was pretty cool so that way I had time to finally finish my fanfic and post it. Oh, I have internet, and this is also awesome, since I can show this fanfic and talk with you all because of it. And the fun thing about Sun is that is okay the fact that it wasn't showing up a lot today because you guys alone are enough to light up my day and warm my heart. So thank you for being here and being so strong in these tough times, my lollipop!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Roman!Patton and Ler!Patton/Ler!Virgil/Ler!Roman (It can be seen as Romantic or Platonic LAMP/CALM). 

*Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* I'm very happy I finally managed to finalize this fanfiction! I made an personal goal to make to each one of the Light Sides a tickle fic focused on them specifically (Virgil = Vulnerable; Logan = It started when... ; Patton = Patton has a secret) and that was the last one! I'm already starting another project which I hope to post soon, so donut worry! I will be opening my Ask Box for prompts, however I will make a post about it, soon! <3

* E a versão em português brasileiro! 

* Masterpost in case you wanna see my others works! <3

*Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Watch a fun video, read a good story, talk with the one that you love and drink water! Byeioo!~

                          [~*~]

Roman felt he was the least heroic hero from all the Mind Palace. It was horrible, like a sensation which seemed to start in his chest, in that deepest part of him where the soul is, and began to spread through all his body. First his throat, making it dry and with tons and tons of lost words never said, then it went to his stomach, leading it to weight as much as his legs, which didn’t felt have any strength left to stand or move in any direction; his eyes looked as dikes about to broke and flood everything in they way, and, in the end, he didn’t felt any cold, however this didn’t stopped him from drow himself in tons of comforters and teddy bears just like he currently was.

As he said before: Not even a drop of heroism.

 The soft, warm pile moved some time later as the prince emerged from it, not completely healed, but at least a little better after the nap he had. His hand moved with a flourish in the air, summoning Crofter’s, because he was addicted to this jelly after the musical video, and started to eat, feeling his face getting dirty with his own clumsy actions already inserted in his being.

 Jelly on his face, messy hair, tired, sleepy eyes… Yep, definitely these were the ‘royal days’ which any Fairy Tale ever utter. None chapter mentioning, explaining how were the thousands of days in the tower waiting, dreaming; not a page dedicated to the lonely afternoons wandering through the forest in seek of a beauty lady with skin pale as snow, or even some phrases about the months surrounded and arrested in himself that Maui had to struggle and neither three or four verses about all the sleepless nights watered in guilty that the Beast had gone through.

 Perhaps, it was because in the end…

 - Nobody cares that much. - The words sounded even tougher when left his lips and Roman felt himself squirm as if it had inflicted a physical blow. He shook his head, knowing very well the bottomless well he was burying himself into.

 He took a deep breath and opened the desk drawer picking up the old-looking folder, with a single draw of a feather outlined with glitter in its cape. He leaned on the bed’s headboard and opened the emergency folder for ‘heroic moments not so heroic of life’ as he liked to call it.

 There were all that intimate stories. The ones we do just for ourselves. The arts in which we are inserted in the world that we chose in the way we wish… Stories with a plot very much deeper that the one traced on papers and the chats and scenes which that had already been turned over, reinvented and transformed again and again and again in the mind of the creative aspect. Took a good sip of air and released slowly in the paper with doodles at the edges. The traces and dialogues started to float from them and dance in the wind, recreating, reorganizing and materializing themselves in the characters, places and contexts previously determined. His trace was light and clear, seeming to flow slightly and naturally with the wind as his room began to take a form of a magnificent forest.

 Roman observed the stories unfold before him, sporadically remembering the jokes he had written much longer ago and the trail each action leaded the character. He remembered also the ideas he had when wrote every single one of these words and how much happy he was just by the simple fact he was putting them on lines, without even realizing it Roman found himself with a small smile finding way to his features along with some salty drops pioneering trails down his cheeks and his hand centimeters away from the holograms, doomed to his destiny of always being capable to have any scenario, character and plot at his fingertips, but nothing more than that.

 His not so optimal thoughts were pulled out of him when laughter and teasing cut the place and almost automatically made a pleasant shivers ran across his body. Now a real smile took over his face without he even noticing it, his eyes attentive to every detail of the protagonist being pinned in the floor and attacked by his other two friends.

 Not a common attack, of course, because Roman could be anything but ‘common’. That, as the majority of the stories, which were in that folder, was a story developed around… tickling.

 So, nothing more fair than the principal character, being the hurried and naturally inattentive adventurer who he was (and because in the last day he had a problematic night) didn’t noticed that, when he went to land the ship he forgot to do the necessary procedures before it (he would need to question Logan about the functions from a ship’s painel control later) and because of that the automobile suffered severe damage by the time it hit the ground. Then, nothing more fair than, while the ship was being repaired, both of his best friends tickled him by the same amount of time (which, sure, was a lie, because they would stop immediately when noticed his ‘victim’ had researched his limit. However, the merely possibility of that happens and the teasing they directed towards him about this only made the entire situation more ticklish and playful.)

 (What? It was like said: the thing put on the paper is only the beginning of the whole iceberg behind the plot.)

 When a story was over, the words returned floating to the paper where they belonged, the scribbles being again fixed, and then Roman took another one and brought it to life, sometimes closing his eyes in order to concentrate even more on the laughter and try to visualize fingers dancing in his most ticklish spots.

 Just the thoughts about it leaded to ghost sensations ran across his entire spine. The papers fell with each story that ended and floated gracefully to the ground, because, later he would busy himself with the task of tidying up all that mess.

 Later.

 (~*~)  

He left his room, already having organized it and saved his little folder back to its original place (one story was missing, probably lost in some corner of his forest. He would care about this another day, though. He was tireeeeeed.). He was interrupted some quick times by Thomas seeking to discuss new goals and dreams they could perceive in the next moths and someday in the future, which made him to be late for the dinner and, consequently, his entire routine after meal, and it was for that reason which at ten at night the aspect of passion and creativity was washing his clothes for the next video, that may or may not would be in the morning. Something which made him almost pray to not rain in the next day so he wouldn’t need to take his vestments to dry in the forest in his room. 

 Since it was almost IMPOSSIBLE to find anything by own will and not literally tripping over them (Not that this ever happened before with his teddy bear which went there to take some sunlight after a particularly strong storm in the Mind Place. Pffff. Of course not. Prince doesn’t stumble, or have teddy bear neither!! Who told you that??)  in that indomitable world just as the creativity...

 Wait…

 Ah, that was why this world was his room and he is the aspect of creativity and… aaahh! Now the things made sense...

 My goshly gosh, now he was beginning to look for logic in the pieces of his routine. OK. Red alert. Abort Mission! Sad days made him WAY too philosophical and like Logan. Abort Mission!

 His foot leaded him to the living room, letting the washing machine do its job, his mind in a battle to decide which Disney to watch and which ones had duration just a bit longer than the washing process. His eyes landed in the television and his body froze for a piece of second.

 “Reasons to smile today”

 That's what the paper stuck to the device's screen said. It was a notebook’s common paper, the words scribbled a bit stronger than the necessary amount, however this wasn’t the cause of the guardian of dreams and passion stop in the way to his happiness.

 And yes what that phrase meant.

 It was a Logan’s idea (amaze!) which emerged in a particularly difficult period for Thomas.

 It was really simple, to be honest: every day all the sides got together, more specifically in the breakfast, and told at least one reason to smile and look forward that day. Usually it was Patton who listed more than half of the reasons in almost every meetings, them being memories, peoples or places, e that constantly managed to rip out a good smile and that warm, cozy feeling in their chest.

 But, when the moral aspect was feeling too much down for the activity, Roman always jumped with a good future, those where all their dreams were accomplished, Logan always brought some good memories and neutral facts and Virgil always came with someone. One supported the other and vice versa.

 Those were really tough moments, nevertheless also were the moments which consolidated them as a famILY.

 The royal member held de paper, the entire room bathed in a silence in which he could swear to amplificate his heartbeats. It was possible to notice there was something written in the back of it, so he turned it.

 “Your unwavering courage.”

 The lights went off and two hands digged in his sides, a scream getting stuck in his throat and his reflexes to punch what touched him was equally restrained by THAT specific sensation.

 - NAHAHAHAHAHA! – His laughter was quick to fill each piece of the silent before installed in the place, his own hands swinging from left to right without really managing to do something, completely different from the ones which attacked him, each single finger mixing between wriggling, kneading, trembling and giving an extra special attention to every inch it could research. He quivered, his legs weakening with the flow of laughter. - WHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOHOHO I-I-IS - A particularly mean poke in his lowest rib made his voice to fail, a new shade of blush painting his features. - ACK! - An amused snort could be heard from behind him, the tickling fingers found the new sound interesting and now spent their time slowly spidering up and down his ribs. Light, quick and crazy tickles dancing and spreading with each touch. - nahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

 He knew this game, knew how to play it. He just needed to find out who was attacking him. Whilst his squirming, his hands tried to hold or touch anything from who was behind him. A hint. Any hint.

 Roman grabbed a wrist. It was uncovered, but there was fabric right behind it. Just one of them wore clothes long-sleeved - His thoughts seemed to run and vanish as fast as the squeaks and yelps between his hearty laughter - Just one of them wore vestments long-sleeved…

 The unknown wrist released itself from his hold, quickly deviating its attention to his upper ribs. His legs weakened and he fell in the ground, the tickling following all his moves and don’t stopping to attack him with light kneads and pinches, even with all his fighting.

 - Anahahahahahahahah-anahahahahaha!!! - His eyes closed in attempt to focus for the name slip already, but his laughter seemed to control all his breath and mind. -ANXIEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHETY! NAHAhahahaha!!

 The fingers slowed down, almost stopping, which allowed the aspirant of royalty finally take some deep quick, delightful breathes, his low and wobbly giggles intertwined with fast squeals being fed up by two index fingers that still poking and lightly teasing that exact spot that connect his armpits and ribs.

 - Thahahahahank Beyohohohohcé.

 - Tsc. - The purple aspect clicked his tongue and even though everything was bathed into darkness, Roman could perfectly imagine the expression in the other’s face. A sharp look. A marvelous smirk. Uh oh - We work with names here, Squeaky Princey.

 F U C-

 - Nononohohoho! wAHAHAHAHAHAIT- He even attempted to escape, sure, but was already giggling even before the hands came back to his sides in full speed. His laughter exploded from his lips, his legs and arms also dancing and struggling without any real effort and his eyes closing tightly.

 This jerk had told his name a few days ago and KNEW that none of them has get used to call him by that yet. He  k n e w.

 - YOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOUR STUHUHUHUHUUHUHUHP-NO! WHAHAHAHAHAHA-WHAHAHAHAHAIT!! - Snort. More high-pinched uncontrollable laughter. Squeal. More laughter. Did one of them belong to the emo side or did he imagined it? - LEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHET ME T-T-THIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHINK!!!

 Roman could feel the name in the tip of his tongue, somewhere between his loud and attention demanding crackles. Yes, right there, between his bright, mesmerizing smile and that warmth in his chest that seemed to spread through all across his face. He felt like would melt at any moment. Since when his smile could get this big?

 - VIRHIHIHIHIHIHIHIGIL!!! IT IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIS VIRGIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIL!!!

 - Ding ding ding. – The lights went on again and the royal aspect deposited his hands on the floor, his remain giggles flowing from his mouth as those butterflies and that cozy sensation kept flying in his stomach. - Strike.

 - Yohohohou will feel my rahahahahag- However, when he turned, blushed features and teary eyes, to see the fear in his enemy's face as he uttered his promise of vengeance, the prince only found nothing. A gigantic piece of void where the purple one should be standing. The sheet preserved itself in the ground, calm and plain, in the same position he had left it, as it mocked about all the mess that happened seconds ago.

 - Who are you looking at, subject? - But the sparkles in his eyes removed any heat of his words.

He went to the laundry and now headed to his room. Being completely honest, he didn't felt a single drop of will to sleep right now, the previous ‘attack’ continued as a mystery. Of course, they all were extremely close, but... tickles? It have been a long time since this artifice was used among them. It was something almost as old as that phrase or that game…

 Ok. Something was smelling really strange here.

 Maybe it was his new cologne which- No, wait, Roman! Focus, focus!

 Maybe it was…

 An adventure.

 And what kind of royalty he would be if he denied an adventure?

 Unsheathed his sword and kept his track to his room, confident and brave footsteps echoing in the hallway.

 A quick and muffled ‘thump’ could be heard from his room, which automatically activated all the instincts from the extra side, because of that, in a matter of few seconds the wooden object was already being thrown in the ground by a smiley Roman, who managed to support himself in the only feet that didn’t hurted, since apparently, knocking -ha!- a door down with one (or more, shhh) kick can have consequences (How he was supposed to know?).

 - BOW TO YOUR PRINCE AND MAY I DECIDE TO SPARE YOU! - His heroic pose was totally ignored, because the place was empty. His eyes analyzed each corner and each shadow, without really finding anything that give the slightest tip that any other life being beyond him even stepped there. 

 And then his gaze bumped in a shiny, polished black shoe, half completely hidden under his bed, making a danger joyful grin to spread in his features. All his shoes were Disney tematic and had their own day and outfit and any of them had this shade of black.

 (Maybe the Ursula’s one was the one that looked more like, but even with this in mind it was very distinguishable the difference between a dark-purple and a basic dark, please!)

 His footsteps leaded him quietly, a perfect contrast with all the shouting from pieces of time ago. He slowly bent down, prepared to grab the shoe and whoever was wearing it and…

 - HA! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD TRICK M- Good point: The shoe came easily out. Bad point: it was because it was empty, which was the reason for his glorious victory statement being, and and very rudely by the way, interrupted. Roman indignantly scoffed; he refused to let the victory escape so easily through his fingers! He was the embodiment of dreams, persistence and hope and he. wouldn’t. give. up. so. easily!!

 Inflated by his own enthusiasm, the royal side knelt down, noticing only a paper on the floor in a place a little further under his bed. Just a little crawl was necessary to solve the problem, with a gleam of determination in his glare Roman firmly held the hint, excitedly bouncing his legs, the only part of his body that wasn’t covered by the furniture.

 "Your persistence and mind of an untamed nature."

 Before he could even process a bit more the meaning contained in the words, which apparently were a continuation from previous paper, the prince felt a strong arm embrace his ankles, his shoes being removed with a slowly calm that didn’t related with the adrenaline which exploded in himself and now across his arteries. His ‘mind of an untamed nature’ understanding exactly what was about to happen and finding zero ways to run away from his fate.

 - NO!!! Don’t you dare!! - One of his shoes fell with a muffled hit on the ground. - I-I… hehehe…! - Giggles began to took over his throat. His other shoe fell as well, a cold, excited shiver ran down his spine. - No!! - A finger lightly positioned itself in the exact center of his feet, all his nerves vibrated in expectation. - NononononNo!

 The finger started to scratched softly, its nail slided without a single bit of hurry across his feet in a move that went from the tip of his toes to his heel, just to add another finger in the movement and calmly repeat the pattern over and over and over and over… Until all his five stupid tickly fingers were tickling him.

 Roman tried to escape from the gap in his ankle, his eyes as tighten as his lips, refusing to brake his barrier.

 The one who ‘attacked’ changed his technique a few times, going from circular motions to quick scribbles, however, he hasn’t rewarded with more than some muffled squeaks and snorts from the other. The fingers moved away, giving Prince time enough to recover profusely his breath, almost don’t hearing the soft humming which filled the air for some little pieces of heartbeats.

 Roman already had the name in the tip of his tongue. The letter alone was enough of a clue, albeit… the possibility to finish with the playing caused a part of himself to quiver sadly. He didn’t wished to end with this moment… No… In truth…

 He didn’t wanted this feeling to end. A feeling that made him excited, electric, feeling like he could run fifty kilometers nonstop. This sentiment, which automatically produced a smile in his features and made he really believes, realizes that he was…

 Was loved.

 Perhaps it was this the reason that his mouth opened even before his brain processed his provocation, challenger tune that impregnated his next words:

 - Há! My dear enemy! Your faux fighting techniques would never be able to defeat a prince like mí! - The creativity side could feel the anticipation, the danger sign glowing in a bright red, and launched his final card: his cocky laughter (and extremely natural. Of course, he never trained hours and hour in a diversity of tunes and expressions in front of his mirror. Humpft. Of course not. That was one of princes’ natural gifts.) of victory.

 The same that was interrupted seconds after by the twenty nails that scratched the absurdly, extremely ticklish skin under his toes. Roman could swear that not even in his years of theater he managed to achieve this high tune.

 - Ohohohohoh! NohohohohohOHOHOHOhohohoho! – His head shook desperately, his legs bouncing and fight for their lives and freedom, his laughter, now breathless and full of half pleas of mercy, dancing through his room.

 A part of himself, one which wasn’t maddened with all this tickling, all the fingers that attacked merciless every little centimeter of his feet and his reverberated laughter, fought against his flight instincts, leading the whole scribbles, pokes and wriggles to find the minimum of resistance as possible (Not that the Tickler will ever know it, sure.)

 - PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE - A nail found a very particularly sensible spot right under his big toe releasing a series of snorts and yelps throughout his already uncontrollable, wobbly laughter. The tickling was unbearable, but in a very different, more lightly, way than the previous attack, and that was making him crazy. - PleasepleasepleAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSEHEHEHE!! NAHAHAHAhahahahHAHAHAHahahahahaHAHAHAHA!!

 Roman persisted for a few more seconds, his entire body, despite the tickles being focused in just one place, squirmed. He only allowed the name to slip for his tongue when his laughter and giggles, it depended from the spot and apparently his ‘enemy’ wasn’t satisfied in choose just one, started to steal his breath. His hand hit the cold floor of his room.

 - LOGAN!!! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT IS Lohohohhohohohogan!!

 The tickles were decreasing until finally stop, making the tingles in his soles not as intense as the that took over his ribs and sides before in the living room. Roman, in the exact moment, which felt the gap in his ankle to weaken, pulled his feet closer, rubbing them.

 - Undoubtedly correct. - It could be his tickled mind pranking him, but the dreamer could swear he heard a hint of amusement in the other’s voice. It didn’t took longer for the prince to catch the characteristic sound of sinking, which resulted him quickly attempting to get out of under the bed to reach the one with glasses, after all, their battle hadn’t  ended yet!!

 - Wait right there! Don’t you freaking dare to- And, once again, his sentence was interrupted. Now for a little snort that flied from his lips when the logic aspect ran softly his fingers at his feet, making the prince to retract in defense, giving him time enough to disappear with a smirk, half joyful and half cocky, adorning his face.

 Roman really tried to be angry, but how much heated was his features and how much euphoric he was in the moment proved this action to be a little more difficult, which definitely wouldn’t aplacate his future revenge, of course.

 Now, though, his only plan was to take a shower and then sleep. For that he forced his tired body to get up and head his bathroom, part smiling and part yawning. He opened his door and stretched, feeling his bones to crack and muscles to relax.

 And then his gaze found the paper stuck in the mirror above his sink, his instinct screaming in a red alert for knowing very well the next step in this game.

 - NO! - Maybe it was the tiredness, however, before he could turn around to try to stop the attack a pair of hands hit in his armpits, something that made his legs automatically to fail and every and any coherent thought be tossed away from his brain to a far far away. The laughter already falling in great waterfalls from his mouth.

 - PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHADREHEHE! - His real laughter, that specific one that only appears when his most ticklish spot is being attacked with the most ruthless tickles, was loud, thunderous  and definitely an easy sound to be noticed from miles away, Roman almost could feel his blush to spread across his neck just imagining Logan and Virgil smiling as heard him reverberate around the house.  – NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

 - Ooooooh? - Patton’s playfully tune would be definitely impossible to hear if he wasn’t so close of his ears, his words leading to even more tickles and shivers in the other. - It seems that our little pretty prince here is ticklish? Coothie coothie coo! Oh, no! What are you gonna do? Huh? Huh? What our powerful, brave Prince Roman will do to escape from the Tickle Monster? Huh? Huh? Kitty Kitty Coo! My dear and ticklish prince!!

 - NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO TEASIHIHIHIHIHIHIIHIHING, PAHAHAHAHAHATTON!

 The creativity’s embodiment trashed back and forth, his head shaking, perhaps in attempts to remove all the red in his face, maybe trying to dislodge those fingers that poked, kneaded, drummed and tickled every available skin they could research. Tears began to accumulate in the corner of his eyes,

 And, even with all his effort, his conscient parte still struggled against his instincts to escape and making him to get as close to the moral aspect as possible, almost laying on him.

 - But how could I ever stop when knowing that this give me access to all these cute squeals? - A poke in the right place and Roman exemplified his words. Patton giggled. - Not mentioning this wonderful and melodious laugher, Roman! It is adorable!!! - The paternal side seemed as happy as he did, the royalty aspirant could feel their laughter in harmony, and maybe (maybe, only!) his heart had melted a little. Or it was just his tears falling from his eyes, his mind was a mess, okay? Don’t ask for details nor logic.

 His laughter, high pinch squeals, snorts and breathless giggles endured for some more minutes before Roman pushed himself forward, laughing a plea to stop, which the one who wears cardigan promptly answered. They leaned against the wall, feeling the cold of the concrete aplacate the heat of the remaining giggles.

 For some seconds both stayed in silence, calming down.

 - Whahahat did you write?

 - Huh? - Patton blinked a few times, leaving his thoughts and staring the other with a stunning smile.

 - In the paper. I couldn’t read… And I expected a honest attack from you, padre! Attacking enemies from behind is very immoral!

 - Hehehehe! - Genuine smile, hands up as an act of surrender. - Anything goes in love and war.

 - Really bold words for someone so close from my fingers! - Roman showed an evil grin, punctuating each one of his words with pokes in the other’s belly, making him squirming in a sea of quick giggles, pushing his hands.

 - You stop right there, mister! - Protested, his glare assuming a paternal glint. - Tomorrow we have a video to record and we need to sleep early! Thomas will need his creativity radiant and rested!

 The prince whined, hands moving in exaggerated gestures and laying dramatically on the floor, following with his eyes as a smiling Patton stood up and pulled the paper from the mirror.

 - Ah! I wrote: ‘Your golden heart!’, but I think I should have written about your stories! - Roman felt his blood freeze, a quick flashback from the morning passing before his eyes. The holograms, flying scenarios, sheets falling, Thomas calling him to do something, the lost paper… - They���re amazing and give really ncredible ideas.

 His face suddenly looked as if it had been set on fire and for the first time in a long time the prince found himself speechless while the one with the glasses deposited the paper in his hands, kissed his forehead, wishing ‘Good night~’ before getting out, humming softly and disappeared from the other’s vision.

 Roman buried his face in his hands, grunting in frustration, which wasn’t too much easy to do when a smile from ear to ear looked to be stuck in his features.

 Yes, they had gave him a plenty of reasons to smile.

 Maybe it was for that reason that most of the stories didn’t told about these days, these moments… Perhaps because they were from such great and strong heroism that it was almost impossible to be entirely put in just one plot.

 And it was for that reason that Roman, while sitting on his bed, pencil and paper in hands, wanted to be the first one to do so.

[mercifuldeaths]

Vertigo: Chapter 11: Hallowed Ground

Vertigo: Chapter 11

Hallowed Ground

Jim Mason x Reader

Warnings for this chapter: Intense descriptions of drug use, overdose, and implications of suicide.

Summary: Waves, rocks, fire, salt, stars.

Notes: I cannot believe I’ve taken so long with this. It’s been finished in my drafts for...months now. Interaction with writers is so important, guys! It truly keeps me going. 

Anyway, this is dark. PLEASE don’t feel obligated to read if anything in the warnings is triggering to you or makes you uncomfortable! It’s a bit of a departure from my usual style, but I enjoyed making some parts of this chapter a bit more ambiguous and abstract. 

I hope you enjoy xx

Word count: 6.1K

Gif credit: (Unfortunately, I can’t find the source of this beautiful gif. If anyone knows, please tell me and I’ll credit them straight away.)

-----

It was a grey morning. The sun not yet risen, but light enough that stars were hidden in the illumination. Overpowered by something greater. It was still. Everything unmoving. Stagnant. 

And for once she was happy about that. Not the ebb and flow of water, the waves, but something that could maybe give them a little more time. It’s how Medina knew something was desperately wrong in the universe-that she was okay with this stillness. She lived for motion, the rocking sensation, whirlpools, rips, anything that moved her but that morning gratitude settled in her chest for the crushing calm. A lake. Not the ocean. 

They couldn’t find him. Jim.

A missing person couldn’t be reported until it was twenty-four hours after the time they went missing, she thought. It had only been about seven. But someone could go lots of places in seven hours. Lots of things could happen in seven hours. 

The cold started to seep into Medina’s thin jacket, her nose running, eyes red. She didn’t bother blaming her tears on the cold. Jim was gone. She could feel it in her bones. In her soul. She didn’t know why she was still rushing because she knew they were looking for a body. Seven hours was much too long post mortem to do anything about it. 

She bet that he was cold, too. 

They had decided to split up- to cover more ground, was what she told Y/N but it was really because Y/N still was hoping and Medina knew she couldn’t live with false belief. Maybe it was so she could cry a little, too. They checked the beaches first-it’s where she thought he would go. To the water. To her. 

Beaches were strange, she mused. It was all really just one, right? Stretching along a coast...people just decided to name different parts of it. Off topic. It was weird. Her mind wanted to think about anything, anything, but Jim. Cold and blue and grey with his eyes open staring at nothing. His hair curly from the sea air, hands tensed, knuckles covered in dried blood, thin skin stretched over bone. Maybe the sea started lapping at him. It was going to be high tide soon and the winter waves were high. Off topic.

She walked along the shore, where earth met water, the temperature icy but reminding her of why she was there. For the first few hours, she ran. Ran through the sand and the dunes and over fences screaming. She screamed until she tasted blood. He was alive then. His pulse living inside her. The second heartbeat, because they always came in twos. The best things did.

Now, she was tired. And he was dead. So it didn’t matter anyway. 

Medina walked, letting the water splash up soaking her jeans. Good. Along the way, she collected sea glass, throwing the ones that weren’t smooth enough back into the water. Someone else will find it when it’s ready.  She walked in a straight line pretending a balance beam was under her. You always imagine the weirdest things, Medina. When his voice echoed too loud she turned backward and walked that way. What? No remark this time, Jim?

She looked down the coast both ways. Empty. 

She was empty, too. 

--

She smelled burning. Fire. 

“Jim, what are you doing?” Medina whispered out her window down to Jim who was crouched next to a bonfire he had created in their backyard. 

“Oh hey! Come down here,” he shouted, much too loud for the hour. Medina’s phone said it was close to three in the morning. 

Choosing to placate him was easy. He was….she couldn’t tell. But he was talking to her. So he was probably high. She held onto whatever shred of hope was left that he wasn’t. She made it down into the yard and sat next to him without a word. They never had to speak, but she found herself unable to think of anything to say to him. 

Jim flipped through the stack of papers he had next to him, licking his thumb, then flipping again. She almost laughed. He had them organized by age but he was mostly done by then, just finishing up when his sister noticed. She looked to him with wide eyes, a weary smile on her face and he felt his chest tighten. Pity. He was suddenly reminded why he was doing all of this. 

He found that he liked the warmth that radiated onto his skin from the flame. Orange and hot. Not blue and cold. It was like the sun from that coffee shop. He’d miss that. Added to the list. But it would be okay. In the end, anyway. The smoke curled up into the sky but he tried not to look. He’d miss that, too. The stars. Added to the list. 

Medina was looking up, though. Looking for him up there, he knew. Because that was the thing- he wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing. Each pill each line perfectly planned to destroy him in the best way. Sometimes Jim was reckless, but not with this. Methodological down to a science. After all, he knew his limits by then. 

The way that it hurt them though….wasn’t accounted for. Y/N...Medina. That’s why he wished it was done already. So they wouldn’t have to hurt for him anymore. Y/N...I want to see her. Stop being a selfish asshole, she hates you. I don’t care. I want to see her smile a few more times.

“What are you doin’?” Medina asked, finally looking to her brother. 

Jim sighed. “Just getting rid of some shit.” He lifted one of the stacks he had left. This one labeled ‘Kindergarden?’ because he couldn’t be quite sure. 

Medina leaned in and tried to read the label but he pulled it away before she could. Hearing him speak, she was almost sure he wasn’t high. And he’s talking again… A flicker of optimism. 

“What is that?” she asked, moving faster than him, and managing a grip on the stack. In her haste, a few of the smaller pieces of paper fell to the ground next to her. On instinct, she reached down to grab it and found that it wasn’t a paper at all but a photograph. 

The two of them, sitting on the steps of their home back in Michigan. It was the first day of school, she remembered that day. She had cried because she wanted a blue backpack, like Jim. Jim had cried because he was scared. Over waffles, before the bus came, she promised she would watch out for him-make sure nothing bad happened. 

Her stomach rolled, nausea creeping in. 

“Oops,” Jim sang as he threw another pile into the flames. 

“No, stop!” Without thinking she reached into the fire to pull out the photos and small tokens of their childhood together. The only markers of their history besides the memories they held too close to share. “Fucking,” she hissed as the papers fell to the cool grass under her feet, the small flames dying quickly, the pages still scarred and curled at the edges. “What are you doing? Jim, this stuff’s important.”

“Why?” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and used an ember from the burning pile to light it. “It’s not like I’m gonna need it.”

A pile further from the rest caught her eye. “Is that your birth certificate? And passport?” She rushed over to it, smoke clouding her face. He didn’t bother to try to beat her to it and took another lazy drag off the cigarette balanced between his fingers. “Jim,” she said a little more firm, trying to recapture his attention back from the curling pages in the fire. “What are you doing? Really?”

“I’m just not going to need it, Medina. I’m finally getting out of here.” He smiled. The first one she had seen that wasn’t full of malice in forever, it seemed. 

She hesitated, wary of what he was implying. “Where are you going, then?”

“Right now? Probably over to Y/N’s. ‘Miss her.” He stood abruptly, forgetting his plans to keep burning now that Medina would inevitably put a stop to it. She stood back, hands still tracing the edge of his birth certificate. 

“If you’re leaving...you’re going to need this,” she whispered and held up the slip of paper. 

He flicked the cigarette into the flames that were starting to die down, running out of kindling. Another smile graced his lips but it was dampened by the shake of his head. No.

“I won’t need it.” He winked and stepped closer. She gasped when she felt him pull her into a hug, arms wrapped tight. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”

That was what he always said to her. ‘You’re my favorite.’ She never bothered to ask his ‘favorite’ what? But she really didn’t have to ask. Because he was her favorite, too. 

She held onto him, probably longer than he intended the hug to go on for, but he didn’t pull away. Unable to help herself she placed her ear to his chest. His heartbeat was there. The sound that she had grown accustomed to in those nine months sharing a womb with him provided little comfort. He slowly started detangling himself from her, after dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She felt the sinewy muscles pull away and she wanted nothing more than to grab them back around her. Just one more time.

Without another word, he spun on his heel and managed to gracefully clear the fence around their yard, headed to Y/N’s house. He managed a small wave back to his sister, over the shoulder but still moving forward. 

She grew cold without him there, despite the warmth coming from the dying fire. He liked fire. Not water.

They had gone camping a few times throughout their childhood and if it was anything Medina remembered it was to not douse the flames with water before retiring for the night. It’s supposed to burn itself out. She resisted the urge to cool the embers with the seawater that was so close to their home. Unable to sleep until the embers were blackened and cold, she stayed awake, watching them burn from her bedroom window. 

--

Y/N had the heat blaring in her car-too stuffy and warm, but the outside was too cold. The worst part was the getting in and out of the car. It wasn’t enough time to completely warm her to the bones so her hands remained chapped and stiff gripping the steering wheel, anything to stay grounded. 

Her and Medina opted to separate. Sure, ‘cover more ground’ but also because Medina’s slow glances and supreme uninterest were not helping the situation. Y/N knew Medina need to be near the water so she was stuck driving looking for him. 

The roads and houses didn’t change when everything else had. Nothing changed in Palos Verdes, she noticed. Each paved street turning onto more asphalt, leading to a tan house with a red tiled roof. Carbon copies. A wave of nausea settled in her belly as she continued looking into the grey where everything started melding together. The red roof, house, street, sand, ocean-all became one under the blanket of fog. 

She tasted blood and realized that she was gnawing on her lip. Briefly, she was about to ask Jim to bum a cigarette but her blood ran impossibly colder when she remembered the empty passenger seat. The vacancy was palpable.

When she reached the end of the street, a dead end leading to a trail to the ocean, she pulled over, hearing the tires spin in the sand. Before she could even hear the car door slam behind her she felt the biting cold on her hands and face. It wasn’t enough of a distraction from the nausea and the ache in her eyes, almost too exhausted to keep going. But she knew she would no matter how bad she really did just want to stop. Let it happen. If he wanted it this bad...shouldn’t they respect it? Stop letting him get in your head. 

The walk down to the beach was a longer one than she was ready for, ice in her veins but fire licking her skin. This cove was opposite the side Medina was looking on. The coves were nice because once standing inside it, enclosed on the three sides by high bluffs, there was a clear view of the definite shore. No stretching landscapes, sand extending in both directions, ocean in the other, just the semicircle of beach. Almost completely enclosed, the only way out through the ocean. The bile rose in her throat before she could stop it and she retched into the hilly dune off to the side of the worn sand trail. “Fuck,” she muttered to nobody while licking the back of her hand to rid the acidic taste. 

He wasn’t there. She could see that in the first few steps onto the soft ground. The only reason her feet kept pulling her forward was the pile of black ash that stained the creamy expanse. A beach fire, no doubt. As she grew closer she saw the emptied beer bottles haphazardly strewn about, cigarette butts lazily thrown into the edge of the circle of ash, but no Jim. It was a foolish thought that maybe there was some massive misunderstanding and he had somehow wound up down here with some of the boys. But the peeling logs that once held warmth were cold and damp from the morning dew, she reached a hand down to make sure it wasn’t warm, lit recently...a sign that maybe he was there earlier. Not alone and...just not alone. 

Exhausted, she kneeled next to the blackened sand, jeans now damp, too. They had fires there. There was always a fire when they were together. 

--

It had been a long day that extended into an even longer night. Jim still radiated heat, probably from the slight sunburn he was sporting after spending all day on the beach as she felt herself press into him to avoid the summer chill that came when the sun finally went down. A group of the usuals surrounded a small fire someone had managed to build in the center of the cove, warm oranges spreading over the dunes on onto the bluffs. 

The party had lasted from sunset onward but once it hit closer to sunrise than sunset their friends started clearing out either falling over themselves or linked arms with whoever they were planning on spending the remainder of the night with. And that’s how Jim found himself half laying against one of the makeshift benches, really just washed up driftwood, Y/N comfortably tucked under his arm. 

“I don’t know why you like it so much.”

“Hm?” She looked up at him, a little groggy from the booze that was starting to lose its effect. Jim liked it when she was like this, a little sleepy and vulnerable, but completely herself. 

“The sunrises. You’re exhausted, let’s just go-” he started.

“No, no it’s almost up. Just relax,” she sighed and further leaned into him, preventing him from getting up even if he wanted to. She felt Jim laugh a little and drop a kiss to her hair, wild from a day of surfing and playing in the sand. 

“It’s all new, you know?” she whispered, afraid to disturb the universe. 

Jim nodded, but was still unsure of what she meant. ‘It’s all new’. He wasn’t a fan of new, preferring the comfort of worn in tee shirts, old cartoons, the same jacket for years now. They were familiar, something grounding. New wasn’t...good. New was moving to Palos Verdes. His mother’s new personality, his father’s new wife, his sisters abandonment. Because she really did. And he hates to blame her, but she’s the reason he became...whatever it is. 

His mother was only the spark that lit the flame. Medina and her newfound obsessions and distance were the true catalyst. And his father. And maybe his mother...maybe there wasn’t even a spark. Maybe it just happened. It wasn’t a spark, it was sinking. His pockets weighed down with pills, sinking until he hit the seafloor, salt filling his lungs. 

“You like new beginnings,” he stated matter of factly, a sort of revelation. 

“And you don’t.” She knew him better than she let on. An innate feeling, not something she could explain or reason but she felt Jim in her soul. 

“I like some new beginnings,” he said a little defensive even though he knew he had no reason to be. She could read him like a book. “I like this.” He nodded between them.

“I like this, too,” she laughed, liquor still on her breath. After a moment, Jim saw the clarity in her eyes, all traces of tipsy gone. “I really like this, Jimmy.”

His fingers cradled the back of her head, thumb rubbing small circles, and tilted her face up towards him. He didn’t like the change from the night before and sighed, the irony not lost on him. Last night the fire threw orange shadows across her cheekbones and it made her glow. A few times he caught himself glancing over at her looking like some ethereal being. She was unreal. 

But at her favorite time of day, her face tilted up to the sky, up to him, a grey washed over her. She always tried to explain that it was soothing to her, the part of the day when the world was still, quiet, grey. Nothing truly existed in those precious minutes. Jim found it almost morbid. They greying landscape with fog rolling in to blanket reality. She let out a hum and Jim watched her eyes flicker shut. He had to look away. 

Nothing existed at this part of the day, though. That was the one part he could get behind. Not existing. 

“What do you think is gonna happen?” Jim asked, voice soft.

“What do you mean?” She shifted, eyes cracking open to meet a view of him looking out onto the waves. 

“To us.” His face shifted into something of being haunted by something that hasn’t happened yet. Y/N felt her stomach clench.

“...I don’t know, Jim. Can we just...be?” she said knowing she was dancing around the topic.

She was surprised when Jim gently shook his head. “I need to know there’s something for us. I need something to hold onto.” The last part was supposed to stay in his head but the lingering effects of the alcohol made his lips loose. 

“We’re…” she trailed off, thinking. It wasn’t a secret, Jim’s fear of commitment, so this was new. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“But really,” he said with a little more emphasis as he straightened his back against the driftwood. Y/N rearranged herself accordingly and sat between his legs, his chest to her back, both looking out from the cove. The grey morning was turning into a yellowed hue as the sun peeked through the clouds that decorated the open sky. 

“I think we’re going in the right direction, babe.” She tilted her head back to rest on his shoulder, trying to look at him even though the angle made it impossible. He did that on purpose. 

“I just want like--I just want it all. With you,” he stuttered.

She took a deep breath and Jim could feel his heart palpitate. “I do, too.”

“Like-everything. A stupid house and a dog and like I don’t know. I want to like...do taxes with you?”

A laugh passed her lips. “Taxes?”

“Yeah, taxes,” he sighed, giggling and felt his face burn. “Just like, even the stupid shit. I want that. With you.” He was raw, an exposed nerve on display for her to do with that she chose. 

“I want a stupid house, too. And a stupid dog, and kids-one day. And sure, taxes,” she mused maybe a little too quiet for him to hear properly. 

His eyes were still cast out onto the horizon, scanning for something it looked like. 

“I mean, let’s not rush things.” She gripped his hand that was resting around her waist, completely wrapped in his embrace. “We have time.”

Jim nodded but she didn’t fail to notice the small crease in his brow, his tell for when he was overthinking. “Let’s...start with coffee.” Y/N detangled herself from the cage of Jim’s arms, missing the warmth but consoling herself with the thought of Jim inevitably smiling into the warm drink.

Jim looked up to her. The outline of her body blocking the sun that kept rising, hand extended towards him to help him up. He couldn’t help but place a small kiss to her palm before letting her help him rise. He noted the sand stuck to the jeans she was wearing and couldn’t resist playfully swatting her ass a few times as they made their way back to his car.

“Just trying to help! Can’t have you covered in sand all day,” he laughed as he went in for another tap-just missing and grazing her thigh.

 Her little squeals made him smile. 

--

It was the wrong beach, not the one he was going for, anyway. But was he going for a beach at all? Did it matter? Yeah. 

He remembered there were stairs but not much else. And then it was dark and cold and the water was there. He was there? Fuck. 

There were the pills shoved in his back pocket...that happened at some point. Right?

He reached into the jeans pocket and was met with emptiness. Well really fuck. It made sense, he supposed. The way his heart was going so fast he swore it was going to rip his ribcage open, his breathing was slow though and that was confusing. But the drooping eyelids and desire to just fucking lay down was all too familiar. He must have at some point because he felt some sort of grass or plant stuck in his hair. 

Jim reached to tangle some of it out, his long fingers combing through knots and wincing a little at the pain that he couldn’t really feel. Probably thanks to the oxy. He found his hand sticky when he returned it back to searching through his pockets for a cigarette. It was dark and he couldn’t find his phone-did he even have it to begin with? The streetlights were just close enough to see his fingers painted red. Oh, the stairs. 

He supposed it really didn’t matter anyway. Nothing did anymore. There was no recollection of what he took. The handful of pills were all different colors, sizes. They were beautiful. There were a few bumps of coke taken off his own hand. His nose still tingled and he could taste the bitter on his gums. 

But there were no stairs or pills or powders or Medina or Y/N or his mom, dad, friends there anymore. 

The beach? Oh yeah. 

It was the wrong one. He knew that much. 

He sat alone in the center of the sand, head lolling to the side. 

Go closer.

“No, I don’t wanna move.”

Too bad.

“Fuck.”

He wasn’t crazy. He knew that. He just...something pulled him to the waves. 

I get it, Medina. 

--

It was a Thursday when Y/N had managed to drag Jim out of bed early enough to  get out before anyone else. 

“You have no classes, you have no excuse!” she sing-songed as they wandered down the path behind Jim’s house to the bay, grey waves already crashing onto the shore. He smiled at the winter waves, bigger than ever and pulling whitecaps every so often, and was secretly glad that she managed to force him out. It was that but also probably the breakfast burrito she brought. Yes, she was willing to bribe him. 

He had been acting...off. Nothing to worry about, but just the stress of his thesis and some stuff with his mom had him looking just a little more tired. Typical of a college student, though. Some more coffee, a Red Bull here and there, and Y/N didn’t need to know about the lines of coke he would sneak in the bathroom between classes. Just sometimes, though. 

He’d convinced her to wax his board for him while he leaned back against the rocks to have his breakfast. Watching her hands glide over the board in familiar strokes and circles was meditative for him. It was comfortable, the coconut smell of the wax mixed with the lavender of her conditioner, the waves crashing, the song she was humming without realizing it. It felt more like home than the house just up the path did. 

“Jack Johnson?” he mumbled around a bite of burrito, managing to catch a piece of avocado before it fell onto his wetsuit. 

She looked up from her work on the board and took a second to register that she was even humming. “Oh, yeah,” she gave a gentle laugh. “I always see the poster on your door.” She shrugged and got back to work, moving slow enough for Jim to enjoy his breakfast. 

He smiled, forgetting all about that poster. “Put it up ages ago-when we first moved. Banana pancakes, huh?”

“It’s a good song!” She set the wax aside and looked over the two boards ready to be put to use. 

“I’m particularly fond of banana pancakes.” He shrugged. 

“Is that you saying you don’t appreciate today’s breakfast?” he voice rose playfully and she nodded at his mostly gone burrito. “Because I don’t have to do that anymore…”

“No, oh my god no!” he rushed to get the words out. “You know you’re the only reason I’m like...alive. Not eating hot pockets for every meal.” 

She laughed. “I’m kidding, babe.” 

“Okay,” he sighed a bit more relieved. “I don’t know how nobody has wifed you up yet. I get wake up calls, food cooked, you’re a goddamn dream.” 

“Well I guess someone has to make a move, eventually.”

“You’re young...we’re young,” he murmured, methodologically folding the tin foil his breakfast was wrapped if before setting it in his bag to throw out later. The mood had shifted and Jim cursed himself. He saw the way her lips tightened and her movements more controlled as she picked herself up. Tucking her board under her arm she let out a wavering laugh, “Ready?”.

“Always,” Jim whispered breathlessly. 

Walking down to the waves he was sure to drop a few kisses on her temple while thinking of how he would never be lucky enough to be the one to ask her to be his wife.

--

After a particularly long morning, the sun and salt became overwhelming as Jim and Y/N made their way back onto dry land. Jim’s friends had a tendency to ruin things and Jim wasn’t having it. He found himself tucked into a diner booth before they could show up to the beach, Y/N across from him, biceps wonderfully sore from paddling and still feeling the sun’s warmth in him. 

It was probably a little early for burgers and fries but neither of them cared. Jim glanced across the table to where Y/N was quickly sending a text before catching him looking. “What?” Her eyes looked up to his, face still tilted to her phone. 

“Oh, nothing,” he laughed. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t feel right saying how he was just mesmerized by the water that dripped off her hair to water stain the shoulders of her shirt darker. Small sand granules still stuck to her hair and skin even though they tried to get all of it off. The way her skin practically glowed under the light that spilled in from the window she was sitting next to, her eyes that looked just a little smaller without mascara on...he loved them. He loved her. 

He loved her. 

He did. 

And sometimes it would hit him at the most random times like when she would trip over a curb, or say something that she probably shouldn’t have, or like when she was stealing fries off his plate-which she always did. And she was doing just that while scrolling through a text message as Jim looked on and just took in...everything. Because it felt mostly right. Only mostly because Palos Verdes sat looming outside. Anywhere else in the world and it would be okay. Probably. 

He knew he was running from problems. That things might not be any different if he got away. 

On stained napkins, Jim planned his escape route. Rough sketches of his future. Maybe theirs. 

“I’m gonna get us out of here.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jimmy.” She still smiled, knowing that he would get out one day. 

--

If it was night then why was it so fucking bright out? White. Blankness, blindness, the world still spun but he didn’t know how because he couldn’t see it, so how could he feel it? It was night- he was positive about that because the sea was black. Ink black. 

Even when he was older-no longer a child, just moved to the bay, looking out into the nighttime waves sent ice down his spine. Watching the surfers bob over the swells, black turning to grey where the wave broke, his chest tightened. It was swimming in ink and dark. He bet that when you came out you were covered, dripping in the stuff, staining and tainting every inch of flesh, maybe even the insides, too. Swallow some of it or breathe it in and let it paint the inside of you black. He always wondered what monsters lived there, under the blanket of dark. 

It was stupid, he knew. Sea monsters didn’t exist but it was primal. Something in his blood screaming to stay away, that something down there was going to kill him, rob him of the breaths he struggled to take in anyway. Chest always tight. Lungs covered in soot and ink. Blood crashing waves, uncontrollable, and deadly-potentially tragic, but poetic. Sparking inspiration for writers, musicians, the everyday man. They all go to the sea to cleanse the soul but they didn’t see it at night. Not the way Jim did from his window every. Single. Night. Just outside, just out of reach. Just far enough away to let him sleep, but close enough to be a threat. 

But Medina dragged him down to go night surfing. 

He watched it swallow him whole. 

He was one of the monsters that lurked down there. 

Everything returned to the sea, he knew that. His thesis. Pollution. What? He managed one steadying deep breath, tricking himself into thinking he could feel the tissue expand in his chest cavity. His hands shook. It wasn’t bright anymore. 

It was dark. And night. And the waves crashed in front of him. 

He wanted to run. 

Jim made himself sit. Cross legged, back hunched over- Sit up straight, mom will complain- he straightened. Everything in him screamed to run, go anywhere but here. One more breath. A pause, a beat. His eyes narrowed at the black sea in front of him, staring at the white foam that broke off. 

The wind picked up and he felt his hair tangle and curl in the salty air. He didn’t bother moving it. The cold ripped through his body, though. Chilled to the bone. 

The lights had gone out. The streetlights? The moon? Did it matter? It was darker than before. Jim faced the ocean, mind finally blank. Numb. A breath. A beat. A clear mind. Until it wasn’t. 

Chills turned into sweats, his temperature rising impossibly fast, he felt it seep from his forehead but he still shivered. He blinked the salt from his eyes-from sweat? Or...how did I move…? The ocean lay in front of Jim. Black, swirling, and breaking, growling whispers and words to him. Calling to him? Probably. 

When did...my heart--? If he knew how to crack a chest-Dad knows that, he’s good at it…- he’d rip it out. Offer it on a silver platter to whoever wanted it. Nobody did, though. Anything to get it to stop. His hands shook and the waves still crashed. They didn’t stop, they wouldn’t stop. 

He moved closer. Why? 

I’m scared.

I know. 

You have to. 

...okay.

Trembling legs carried him closer to the beast. It crawled closer on its belly, an inch from his sneakers, and controlled him. The closer it came the tighter his chest, the sharper his inhale, filling him with emptiness. Exhales were good, he pretended that it was him blowing it away until the pattern shifted again, waves overlapping and nothing discernable. Even Medina didn’t like it when it was like this- tides changing. No pattern. But it was still hers, and hers alone. She was born in a cradle of brine while he was drowned by it. 

He wished he knew how to swim. 

But he belonged in the sky, he tried to look up but his eyes were trapped, held by the dark in front of him. There was no escape- no way out from under it. Its reach clawed at the land until it took chunks of it, winning. It tore through his skin until he was nothing but exposed and raw. Its silent demons moving amongst and within him, gifting him with every burden bestowed upon him. 

Mom, dad, Medina, Y/N...me. Jim. 

It’s your fault, you know. 

I know. 

Everything.

I know.

He knew it already even though his mind insisted on whispering every chance it got. Blinking got hard, eyes heavy. Everything heavy all of a sudden. 

The weight of solitude settled on his shoulders and found a home in his belly. Not just on the wind whipped beach but everywhere. Laying in bed with Y/N he always found himself alone. Not alone-lonely. 

But there is no time to be lonely when there’s a grave to dig.

The thought of her cracked him. He looked away from the monsters, hiding his eyes in his palms he felt his tears stain the cuts. How they got there, he wasn’t sure. 

Tendons, ligaments, bone- all weakened, he felt something push him to his knees. It had to have been her? No. But maybe? He couldn’t be sure. That or...whatever was out there. It’s you, you dumb fuck. 

Sometimes he forgot that he was one of them. Slicked black and melding into the monster itself, bobbing on the surface but knowing just how easily it could smother him, should it choose. 

It crawled away in retreat when Jim’s hands fell to his mouth to muffle the scream that threatened to rip from his chest. He couldn’t let anyone hear, not when he was so close. You’re almost there. Don’t stop. Do. Not. 

“I won’t, I won’t,” he whimpered, voice cracking and high. He didn’t sound like himself. Or maybe he sounded more like himself then ever. Raw. There wasn’t any more time to put on a front. 

A stillness came over him when the water rushed to surround and saturate his knees, half buried in the sand-kneeling in worship or terror. He let it run over his fingers, feeling the push and pull, his inhales and exhales no longer synched. They were slow. Slower than they should be. And they hurt.

The water was almost clear when it was close enough. He saw the blood wash away off his trembling hand when the wave was sucked back in, taking a part of him with it. 

His head bowed, not in reverence, he was sure. But because there was no point in holding it upright. There wasn’t a reason to look up, all the stars had gone. Snuffed out by the water that wavered in his view. He wasn’t going to make it there, anyway. He felt an ache in his chest when he realized that he wouldn’t be able to meet her at cassiopeia, as promised. 

It wasn’t just a dull ache, though. He felt the way oxygen flowed in and out of him too slow, the way his heart was throbbing too fast…

He fell over, face half buried in the sand, unable to move, paralyzed as the tide rushed in, claws open and ready to claim him. He didn’t remember being able to take one last gasping breath, salt filled his lungs and light filled his mind. 

For the first time, he was ready to go somewhere on his own. 

He smiled. Relieved, after so much waiting.

--

Tag List:

@langdonsinferno @ccodyfern @starwlkers @babypinkstyles94 @1-800-bitchcraft @hailbaphomette @langdonsdemon @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @katiekitty261 @aveiangdon @sojournx @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @americanhorrorstudies @sojournmichael @nana15774 @duncvn @gold-dragon-slayer @cocosfern @rosegoldrichie @and-shes-not-even-pretty @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @lvngdvns let me know if you want to be added! I’m making a completely new one (the complete one I have is so outdated) tell me if you’d like to be included! I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, like I said, my list is a disaster right now hah. 

Thank you all for your patience and support! It’s so appreciated you have no idea.

[dyedmaxiian]

So I want to take a moment to address something because I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to put it into words, but I think I’ve finally figured out how to answer:

Why does Jamie need the Minutemen, and why do they need him?

It boils down to something very simple, and it’s that the Minutemen need a personality that is kind and cares about the well-being of others, but doesn’t allow the organization to be dictated and controlled by personal vested interests of individuals but rather the greater of the collective Commonwealth. I say that with the footnote of that the SOLE PURPOSE of the Minutemen is to protect & help the people of the Commonwealth, whether they be human, synth, or ghoul alike, because that is ANOTHER key point of the Minutemen that I like a lot of people forget about.

In the game we see that the reason the Minutemen fell apart is a combination of a loss of strong leadership as well as a descent into corruption, in-fighting, and personal goals. All of which are POISON to any faction, and as such the Minutemen by the start of the game are beaten down to their last legs. As such, the Minutemen need to be pulled back together and given a STRONG and proper foundation. They also need leadership that is devoted to their primary purpose which is at its very core drawn down to their mantra ‘Protect the people in a minute’s notice’.

So why does Jamie need the Minutemen exactly?

Well, to make a long story short, Jamie can’t serve an organization with selfish goals in good conscience. Part of the reason Jamie was even willing to join the Brotherhood in the Capital Wasteland was because of the way Owyn & Sarah Lyons ran their Brotherhood. It was still flawed mind you, and Jamie openly recognizes as much when asked about his thoughts on the Brotherhood’s prejudice & ideals regarding science & technology. But at their core what they wanted to do was HELP. The Lyons Brotherhood could have easily taken over Project Purity and hoarded it to themselves, but instead they took the functional project purity and decided to use it to distribute clean water across the Capital Wasteland and provide relief to the people of the Capital. Which goes against the Brotherhood’s general code. It was the entire basis of why the Outcasts were even present in the first place. As such, Jamie was in GOOD CONSCIENCE serving the Brotherhood under Owyn & Sarah Lyons. 

Unfortunately, this come to a close when the Lyons leadership is killed off. Then there’s a period of instability before Arthur Maxson comes into the picture. What Maxson does is completely negate all that the Lyons brotherhood stands for. But why is it exactly that he stays with them? Well, simply put, it’s all he has left. He doesn’t HAVE any good alternatives, and while the guilt & shame of helping an organization whose vested interests are selfish and bordering on brazen, it isn’t enough to negate TWO very important elements of his life in the Brotherhood: A) the familiarity, as he has nowhere else to go and B) the fear of leaving due to what the implied ramifications are. 

After the Prydwen flies into the Commonwealth, and the Minutemen start to arise again, Jamie takes notice of it. He’d heard word about Preston and the Minutemen, when he arrived with Danse, Haylen, and Rhys, but they were effectively ghosts. The only frame of reference he had was Preston Garvey, who to him was a shining example of what he always believed the Brotherhood SHOULD be doing. But he remains put because feasibly he has his squad to lean on and so he figures so long as he has them, he can weather the storm of being stuck answering to a less than moral Brotherhood of Steel in his eyes.

HOWEVER, when Blind Betrayal comes to pass, it’s effectively the straw that breaks the camel’s back. It’s the line that he never thought would be crossed by anyone in the Brotherhood, and it’s the final nail in the coffin for any faith he has in the Brotherhood eventually doing good again. Maxson steps over that boundary and Jamie snaps. He can’t in his right mind pledge loyalty to an organization that would forcibly turn on one of their own, ONE OF THEIR MOST LOYAL NO LESS, on the principle that he “ISN’T HUMAN”. And Jamie leaves. But even then, there’s a void that’s left due to paranoia and focus on helping Danse survive the Commonwealth.

It isn’t until Jamie and Danse seek asylum with the Minutemen that the wake up call hits. What he’s been looking for, has been sitting right in front of him. The Minutemen have been doing exactly what he has been hoping to for by that point, years. They’re what he admires in the Commonwealth and it’s without hesitation at that point that he enlists. They align with exactly what he’s wanted to be doing as well as they offer him a place in their ranks which he can take without the fear of guilt or shame for taking it. And while he always has a special place in his heart for what the Brotherhood once was, the Minutemen feel more RIGHT to him in the long run. They make him feel like what he’s doing is RIGHT and their very mantra stands for what he always believed was the RIGHT thing to do.

Now then, that brings to the inverse of this question:

Why do the Minutemen need Jamie?

Well, this goes back to what the Minutemen has ultimately been lacking since the death of Joe Becker, where the Minutemen descended into chaos. The problem there was that it’s implied the Minutemen had a General who was the ONLY voice guiding them, and unfortunately that sort of history is doomed to repeat itself without Jamie. While a Colonel, Jamie actually encourages the General and Preston to work WITH him instead of sectioning each other off. Jamie also encourages a council to be involved in the process of decision making. The General pushes the Minutemen in a direction, but they’re not the ONLY head of the Minutemen that has a say in what happens. But most importantly, there is SOMEONE in the Minutemen who has a contingency plan for the event that the Minutemen General loses sight of the Minutemen’s best interest.

They HAVE plans in place to ensure that even if their figure head strays, the Minutemen will survive and will continue to do the right thing. Not to mention that the vast majority of people in the Minutemen do not have the experience that Jamie has in terms of being part of a military organization. Despite the pain & suffering that came with serving under Maxson, it was a learning experience and he DID learn the ins and outs of being a successful military organization. Granted he can also distinguish the good from the bad, which would allow him to provide insight into ways in which the Minutemen would benefit greatly from organizing themselves. 

The other major Jamie plays that makes him crucial to the expansion and successful development of the Minutemen is him taking on the role of ENFORCER. He’s never going to be ‘GENERAL’ material. It was proven time and time again as a younger man that it’s not his role to play, but as he’s grown more and more in this post-apocalyptic world he HAS grown out of old habits. So the role of Colonel suits him fine. But it also provides him with the support all leaders need. Where he shines is his directness with people. Yes at times it verges on abrasive or overly blunt, but the beauty of Jamie’s role in the Minutemen is that his entire JOB is to play ‘the mean one’. He’s not supposed to be SUPER warm & amicable. He’s supposed to make the trains run on time. Make sure that the Minutemen survive and anyone they’re tasked with protecting is SAFE and well cared for by the Minutemen. 

Jamie fills a role that is SEVERELY lacking in the Minutemen. While you could argue that Ronnie could fill this role also, it’s pretty cut & dry that Ronnie doesn’t seem to be the LEADER type judging by how very devoted she is to planting herself at the Castle rather than being part of the decision making process. Ronnie is more of a ‘Warden of the Castle’ rather than a “Colonel of the Minutemen”. Jamie has no such fastenings. And Ronnie works for making herself integral to the functionality of the Castle because she represents the STEADFAST nature of the Minutemen that should be seen by anyone with the prospect to join or negotiate terms of alliance with the Minutemen.

Why Jamie works as a Colonel specifically is boiled down to simply that people are faced with the THREE PILLARS of the Minutemen’s leadership. The Fearless Leader ( The General ), the Diplomat ( Preston Garvey ), and last but not least the Enforcer ( Jamie ). When negotiations fail, and being nice or inspiring doesn’t work, then you’re faced with a DIFFERENT side of the leadership. If you can’t work things out with Preston or the General, then you have to deal with Jamie.

The entire idea behind Jamie’s presence in the Minutemen is to act as the FEARSOME FORCE that will stomp you under his boot if you don’t play nice. He’s not meant to bully you into an alliance, he’s meant to remind you that if you disrupt the order, then you’ll be faced with a rather UNPLEASANT consequence. Because Jamie is arguably the MOST imposing of the Minutemen’s leadership by how he conducts himself and his stark directness, you could argue Jamie not only helps to organize them into a more effective faction, but also helps to keep the PEACE when all else fails by simply reminding people that the Minutemen aren’t a DOORMAT and if you threaten what they’ve built, you’ll be met with QUITE an unpleasant surprise.

In short: Jamie helps solidify that the Minutemen are kind & good natured, but not the kind to be walked all over.

[templeofgeek]

Gallifrey One is the world’s largest and longest-running annual Doctor Who fan convention, a tradition in North American Doctor Who fandom since 1990. Yes, Gallifrey One has been running for going on thirty-two years! With the record for the longest-running Doctor Who con, it’s easy to see why the Doctor Who cosplay from Gallifrey One is some of the best in the world!

L-R: The War Doctor Cosplay (@whonewpodcast), 11th Doctor Cosplay (@redheadedchinny96), Tasha Lem cosplay (Corissa B.), 13th Doctor Cosplay (@georgiiaagrace}, 10th Doctor cosplay (@doc_in_the_box), 12th Doctor Cosplay (@whocosplay), Amy Pond cosplay (@thegingercompanion), Rory Williams Cosplay (@vigilantecosplay), 11th Doctor Cosplay (@aaronrivin)

What makes the cosplay at Gallifrey One special

For many, Cosplay is a way to express themselves, be creative, and make new friends. It creates a sense of community that most grown-ups lose after high school or college. For some, it goes so far as to make them feel more confident about themselves without realizing it. Many find it was an avenue that helped them learn more about themselves. And let’s face it, it’s just fun to dress up!

View this post on Instagram

BARDIS – Gallifrey One, 2020 #doctorwho #doctorwhocosplay #bbcdoctorwho #cosplay #romana #romanacosplay #davros #davroscosplay #dalek #daleks #riversong #riversongcosplay #sonicscrewdriver #bar #gallifreyone #gallifreyone2020 #gally #gally1

A post shared by Chris Stengel (@castengel) on Feb 18, 2020 at 10:02am PST

Cosplay is this “special” universe where adults come together, put their egos aside, and celebrate what they geek-out over without any shame of “not acting our own age.” Anyone would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t care to find a realm where they could be unapologetically themselves while dressed as their favorite character. This can be true of the cosplay at any convention. However, the situation at Gallifrey One gives a special license to be a little more unique. Doctor Who has over 50 years’ worth of characters and spin-offs to draw from. There are plenty of options for what you can cosplay.

View this post on Instagram

Cutest. Adipose. Ever. • • • #Gally1 #GallifreyOne2020 #DoctorWho #DoctorWhoCosplay #Adipose

A post shared by Gallifrey One Fan Account (@gallifreyone) on Feb 14, 2020 at 12:21pm PST

Being recognized as a Doctor Who cosplayer can be tricky at most comic cons. Much of what the characters wear on the show is ordinary, (albeit very fashionable) everyday attire. Much of what is worn in the current series can be purchased at popular retail stores (we call these cosplay pieces “screen accurate”). It also makes it easy to find a suitable and affordable alternative (“alts”) outfit that look close enough to what the characters wear on the show. At a convention like San Diego Comic-Con for example, not everyone will immediately recognize your outfit as a Doctor Who cosplay, they might mistake it for just everyday attire. At Gallifrey One, even the most obscure cosplay is recognizable to someone.

Bill Potts cosplay (@elainecosplay), 13th Doctor Cosplay (@Julieursuline) and Clara Oswald Cosplay (@jedi_janine).

View this post on Instagram

I encountered the #HappinessPatrol at @GallifreyOne. Luckily I was in a good mood and they allowed me to continue on my way. #DoctorWho #Cosplay #Gally #GallifreyOne #Ace #Kandyman

A post shared by Christopher Jones (@chrisjonesart) on Feb 18, 2020 at 1:06pm PST

View this post on Instagram

~Ive been to Peladon! You never did! With the great beast Aggedor? Same planet!~ #Gally1 #alphacentauri #sarahjanecosplay #gallifreyone2020 #lobbycon #handoffear #doctorwho #classicwhocosplay

A post shared by SylviaLupienCosplay (@sylvialupiencosplay) on Feb 21, 2020 at 10:35pm PST

View this post on Instagram

A scene like this is probably when the damn credits would start rolling and I'd chuck my cup at the screen… Next episode, I get strangled by the Master. – 📷 Photo: @lethargicactionhero If you know who this cosplayer is please lmk so I can give credit 👍 #gally1 #doctorwho #doctorwhocosplay #cmdrlackven #fourthdoctor

A post shared by Sigma "lackven" Baker (@cmdr.lackven) on Feb 18, 2020 at 8:57pm PST

View this post on Instagram

#gallifreyone

A post shared by Mike Reed (@drkickazz) on Feb 17, 2020 at 4:38pm PST

View this post on Instagram

Pics from day 2 so far! I’ll admit, it’s been a bit of a sluggish start. But a successful one with naps in between, haha. Here’s to later tonight. Oh boy, haha #gallifreyone2020 #gallifreyone #13thdr #whovians #funtimes #drwho #dw

A post shared by Erika 🎺 (@eurekarox01) on Feb 15, 2020 at 4:43pm PST

The Masquerade

Every year at this convention is the Masquerade of Mandragora. Named after the first serial of the 14th Season, it is the annual Saturday night costume competition and fashion show. Many conventions boast costume contests. At other conventions, the costumes are from a large range of fandoms. The masquerade at Gally (short for Gallifrey One) revolves around one fandom, Doctor Who. This gives children and adults who enter the competition an opportunity to turn up the creativity.  Photographer David Phillips (IG: @drquien) captured the beautiful cosplay that was on display.

Contestant Veronica Swarbe as a clockwork droid.

Cosplayer @lotcosplay as Ramona

Contestants Bryan Little, Mette Hedin and Mea Cottman.

Cosplayer Becca Novotny.

Angelica Roque as Lady Me

Cosplay Meet-Ups & Groups

Cosplay Meet-Ups happen at many different conventions. It is an opportunity for cosplayers to gather together and celebrate their shared love for a character or a fandom.  Cosplay meetups can be large or intimate. No matter the size, the main purpose is to get together and take fun photos while hopefully meeting new people and celebrating fandom.

9th Doctor Meet Up 

@lsirik @just.plaim.joe, @moshpitavenger, @itsprobablyvincent @maddie_whovian @emma_bruton @beige_charley

      13th Doctor Meet Up

Sonic Screwdriver Group

View this post on Instagram

The #sonicgallygirls, then with 12s mostly 😉 #gallifreyone #gallifreyone2020 #gally1

A post shared by @ mrsmalcolmtucker on Feb 18, 2020 at 9:10pm PST

Rory’s Stag Party

View this post on Instagram

We’re getting married!!! @jgzook and I met at @gallifreyone 7 years ago and decided to celebrate our engagement with the con! We ran into @thisdorkynerd and @doc_in_the_box doing a stag night group too!! #nerdlove #doctorwho #cosplay #gallifreyone

A post shared by Hannah (@goodmorningstardust) on Feb 16, 2020 at 6:14pm PST

These are far from all the meetups that happened at this convention. Most of the meetups are fan organized and happen through Facebook groups and are eventually announced in the Gallifrey One schedule. Some notable meetups that we did not get to photograph ourselves were the 10th Doctor Meet-Up usually hosted by @hairclubforten, the Pond Paradox Meet Up and the River Song Meet Up.

Cosplay Mash-Ups

Cosplay mash-ups are when two fandoms or ideas collide to make one unique cosplay! This year, there were plenty of mash-ups to be seen. From punk, pajama, and 1950s inspired Doctor Who groups to Critical Role crossovers. This convention gives Whovians (Doctor Who fans) an opportunity to mash together a lot of the things they love!

Punk Who 

This group celebrated it’s second annual meet up! This came together as a group originally in 2019.

1950s Inspired Who

Harry Potter Crossover

@Tanitia_sd, @eurekarox01, @aunttessycosplay

@nightmarious, @adventuresofthecheekybaker, @miaremmi

@kyliesapup

@russellholly @beige_charley @theharrypotterfan

Ghostbusters Crossover

View this post on Instagram

Some of my favorite cosplays from today #gallifreyone #cosplay #doctorwho #punkdoctorwho #ghostbusters #vincentvangogh #queenvictoria #tenthdoctor #k9 #riversong #fatcosplay

A post shared by Ardis (@thecatholicfattie) on Feb 15, 2020 at 11:14pm PST

Pajama Party

View this post on Instagram

Companion and 13 pajama party! #Gally1

A post shared by Head Over Feels (@headoverfeelsdotcom) on Feb 14, 2020 at 12:03pm PST

Stranger Things Crossover

View this post on Instagram

#GallifreyOne cosplay lineup! Yeah! Friday: mashup fun with my #SparkleTARDISAhoy! Saturday: #SwissArmySonic with the #SonicGallyGirls! Sunday: Some easy, comfy #RoseTyler bounding from The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances for what I've designated as my #ChristopherEccleston Day 💙💙 This time next Wednesday I'll be back in LA getting ready for the 5 nerdiest days of my year; I can't wait to see everyone again! #AdventuresInStaceland #DoctorWho #whovian #gally1 #orderofgallifrey #cosplay #TARDIS #StrangerThings #scoopsahoy #13thdoctor #sonicscrewdriver #theemptychild #thedoctordances #areyoumymummy #justthisonceeverybodylives @billiepiper @christophereccleston

A post shared by Stace (@adventuresinstaceland) on Feb 5, 2020 at 4:18pm PST

Critical Role Crossover

View this post on Instagram

I’m so grateful to @damjerry for spearheading this Critical Role/Doctor Who crossover group for #gallifreyone What a wonderful bunch of people!! #criticalrole #cosplay #criticalrolecosplay #gally1 #mightynein #voxmachina

A post shared by Christina S. Crafty (@christina.is.crafty) on Feb 16, 2020 at 7:37pm PST

https://twitter.com/xtinaiscrafty/status/1231353588619677696

Cosplay Gallery

Unknow Ruth Doctor Cosplayer

@maddie_whovian & Unknow Ruth Doctor Cosplayer

@georgiiaagrace & Unknow Ruth Doctor Cosplayer

@gallidays

@cosplayparents

@rusellholly @theharrypotterfan

@riveralexandrasong and Lauren Goldman

@stevenrickstailoring

13th Doctor and 10th Doctor cosplayers

War Doctor Cosplayer & @makeitsocosplay

two 4th Doctor cosplayers and @geekregeneration

Happiness Patrol /Kandyman cosplay group. @adraucker @mansku11

@the.winter.doctor @drdyllord

@doc_in_the_box, @indymcfly @j_caito @the_wandering_geek @the_tentative_doctor

@whonewpodcast

@redheadedchinny96 and Corrisa

@thegingercompanion and @vigilantecosplay

@theharrypotterfan @russellholly

@vigilantecosplay

@aydiostheo

Steampunk cosplayers

@tanitia_sd

@cutelionesscostumes

Tickets for the  Gallifrey One 2021 event go on sale on Saturday, February 29, 2020, at 12:00 pm (noon) Pacific Time. Find out more at http://www.gallifreyone.com/.

For more Gallifrey One coverage check out: 

https://templeofgeek.com/what-is-gallifrey-one-and-why-is-it-so-special/

https://templeofgeek.com/gallifrey-one-2019-cosplay/

https://templeofgeek.com/gallifrey-one-ultimate-whovian-convention/

Check out our Cosplay Photo Gallery from Gallifrey One 2020! #GallifreyOne #Doctorwho #doctorwhocosplay Gallifrey One is the world’s largest and longest-running annual Doctor Who fan convention, a tradition in North American…

[thegreenwolf]

The Invitation of Wild Geese

Originally posted on my blog, A Sense of Natural Wonder, at http://www.thegreenwolf.com/the-invitation-of-wild-geese/

I feel like not enough people knew of Mary Oliver, who passed away on Friday at the age of 83.

I myself, not being a huge fan of poetry, never heard of her work until just a few years ago. Somehow in my enjoyment of nature writing I had overlooked her work. While the poet herself is gone, her legacy is immortalized in an incredible body of work spanning several decades.

Like so many people, my introduction to Oliver’s work was her poem Wild Geese. I was working on my ecopsychology certificate in graduate school, and encountered her words in a reading. Initially my attraction to it centered on the imagery of nature, the painting in my head of the movement of pebbles and sun and geese over the land. For years I came back to it just for this picture as a source of solace and joy.

But over time it gained a deeper meaning for me. Having been raised Catholic, I was soaked from an early age in the idea of original sin and the idea that humanity is inherently flawed. This, of course, also bred in me a deep sense of guilt and inadequacy, as well as contributing to the anxiety disorder I still deal with today. When I shot forth from these confines as a teenager and landed in the lap of neopaganism, I thought the main thing I wanted was a religion that was centered on nature, rather than seeing it as a set of materials to be exploited.

I got that, of course, but what I also got was a lot of fellow pagans carrying a lot of Christian baggage. (1) The need for a higher power to have control of things and to be petitioned for aid; a tendency to divide things into dichotomies like “light” and “dark” or “white magic” and “black magic”; a desire for some authority (often scriptural) to offer clear lines of What To Do and What Not To Do. And with the crossover of paganism with environmentalism, I often ran into sentiments dripping with the idea of sin, guilt, and flawed humanity, like “humans are just cancer on the earth”, and “Gaea is going to make us all pay for what we’ve done to Her”.

I carried much of my Catholic baggage with me. I especially yearned for structure and ritual and orthopraxy and definitive methods of pleasing the powers that be, or at least that’s what I told myself I needed in order to be a Really Good Pagan. The crescendo of that particular adventure was the few years I tried putting together a formalized path using various bits and pieces of things I had learned and developed over the years. The harder I tried to make that work, though, the more I found myself rebelling all over again.

I went back and re-read Wild Geese. I read the opening lines:

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

In that, I broke open. Catholic tirades about how we are all tainted with original sin even from birth, pagan moralizing over how the Threefold Law is gonna get ya or preaching Gaea’s ecological smackdown–these all came flowing out as though from a deep wound lanced. “Love what it loves” wasn’t a call to crass, reactionary hedonism or indifferent amorality, but instead trusting our instincts and deeply-ingrained social bonds that our ancestors evolved over millions of years to thrive together.(2)

And that was the key: the idea that humans are not inherently flawed, that we are just another species of animal in a highly complex world full of many ecosystems. Our actions have evolutionary roots, even if we’ve taken them in some beautiful, strange, or even terrible directions. Our large-scale destruction of the planet has largely coincided with increasing beliefs that we are separate from nature; after all, it’s easier to destroy something you don’t see any responsibility toward. Yet here was a call to return to our place in the natural order of things, where we are one among many.

From that point, the rest of the poem is a joyful invitation to return home. And I suppose that there is a bit of that shared concept of forgiveness in the idea that no matter how badly we’ve screwed up our lives and the planet–if we stop and do our best to turn things around, nature will still be waiting for us.(3) But it’s not a forgiveness gained through penance and punishment, nor is it dangled over our heads as the one and only alternative to an eternity in hellfire and brimstone. There’s no mention of any specific religion one must adhere to in order to be saved, no threat of damnation. We aren’t required to do rituals A, B and C in order to avoid angering the gods.

All it says is that the rest of nature has been there all along, waiting patiently for us to come back into the rhythm of the dance of raindrops and rivers. It will continue on in some form with or without us, but wouldn’t it be glorious if it were with us? There’s a grand, amazing world out there full of wonder and awe. Nature does not dole out sinfulness and punishment, but only natural consequences to actions, which are inherently neutral and not steeped in human ideas about morality.

Since that time, my paganism has evolved into something more naturalistic, and anything but structured and formalized. Instead it pervades every element of my life organically and without pretension. I feel constantly connected to something bigger than myself–the entire Universe–which is a key goal of spirituality anyway. Rituals feel redundant, unless you think of my daily farm chores and my meals and my sleep as rituals, all of which celebrate the world I live in in various ways. And I don’t see myself as being part of some cosmic hierarchy; I am not inherently better or worse than any other being here.

I am still working on returning to the rest of nature, but it is only because I am unpracticed, not because I feel unworthy. I can be concerned about the environmental destruction I am contributing to by my very existence and lifestyle without letting that concern translate into a guilt that continues to keep me separate as something dirty, foul, not deserving of nature’s touch. And the more I feel close to nature, the more responsibility I feel toward it, and vice versa. Nature may not be an entity that can love me; it’s pretty indifferent as a whole. But I can make up for that with the utter joy and astonishment I experience every moment I am aware of my place in nature and what amazement surrounds me.

It’s a cliche to say that you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. I never told Ms. Oliver how much her work meant to me, and of course now I will never have that opportunity. But I don’t think I realized myself the importance of Wild Geese in particular until the evening after she passed, when I began writing this post. And I sent out my gratitude in these words–too little, too late–but hopefully enough to share that meaning with those who remain.

What is remembered, lives.

Obviously, yes, #NotAllPagans. But after over two decades in this community, I’ve seen these and other leftover Christian patterns frequently. These phenomena do also occur in other religions, and arguably in some pre-Christian paganisms. But it was clear in the instances I saw that the patterns were most closely replicating those many of us were raised with in Christianity, with a thin pagan veneer pulled over them.

I recognize this is a pretty romanticized view of “instincts”, and that hunting and other violent things are also instinctual to a degree. That’s not what this is about, though. Leave those aside for the moment.

Of course, with climate change being what it is, it may not be able to wait for us much longer, at least not in a form that allows us to survive as a species. But leave the doomsaying for some other time and place. All it does is make people less likely to try to improve things, and more likely to just give up, and that is antithetical to what this entire post is about.

[juminly]

Pure Bliss (Jumin x MC Angst)

First time writing an angst post so I’m kinda nervous about it. 

It was requested by @bat-yo-us ! This is for you <3 

Also thought I’d contribute again to Day 5: Emotions/Strings of @juminweek

Hope you all enjoy it ( *’ω’* ) ! Please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think of it. 

---------

It was a Saturday and Driver Kim’s day off.

Jumin had an urgent meeting that popped up and he got slightly flustered. MC noticed just by noticing a slight crease between his eyebrows and offered to drive him. It wouldn’t be the first time that she drove with Jumin and it certainly made him feel safe as he trusts her driving. Jumin always had an issues with riding taxis cause he would call them “crazy” and “unruly” drivers. Jumin has high standards in most things in his life and MC was glad that she was able to meet his standards.

The first time he rode with her in the car, he had his fist clenched on his seatbelt tightly, eyes darting from one side window to another and all the cars driving around, while still trying to keep his composure and not lose his cool. MC had kept silent the entire time and let her smooth driving speak for itself. Jumin then determined that he is secure with only two people: Driver Kim and MC. It was a complete different story when he travelled around the world.

MC: - runs to Jumin and hugs him from behind, giving him a light kiss on the back of his neck - I’ll go warm up the car now, my love. I’ll be waiting for you.

Jumin: - smiles softly as a tingling feeling runs up his neck, turns his head back as he adjusts his tie, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek - How can I ever repay you for all that you do for me, princess?

MC: - speaks as she walks to the door - Promise me that you’ll love me for as long as we both shall love. Love me with every once of your being. That’s all I want and will ever need.

Although MC already left the room and probably the apartment too, Jumin whispered his promise to give his everything to MC. He also promised himself that he would try to find more ways to show his love to her.

After getting dressed and arranging his briefcase, he head down to the lobby where MC was all ready for him. He got in the car and sighed loudly, whipping out his tablet to go through his notes.

MC: What’s wrong my love? - brushes her index lightly on his cheek, he directly took her hand in his, kissed it then she pulled back and put her hand back on the steering wheel - That was quite a heavy sigh…

Jumin: - smiles a bit sadly, knowing you can’t see his expression - I shall not accept such frivolous behaviour again. I have informed my clients and my employees that these sudden requests should be processed through the right channels to avoid such inconveniences from happening. This is nothing I am not able to handle. I shall deal with this as soon as possible so we can spend the rest of the day off together. Do we have a deal?

In the same moment, Jumin kept his true thoughts to himself and was thinking; "What did I ever do in this life to deserve such a wonderful woman?

I look at her and I feel like I want to love her with all that I am and it still wouldn’t be enough. She has given a new sense to my life that I never have hoped or wished to have. I want to be enough for her… Spoil her more… Spend more time with her… Maybe even… have children."

MC: I can never turn down a deal given to me by Mr. Jumin Han.

Jumin: Well I have another deal for you now. I need something to relax me before that meeting, so can you sing for me until we get there? Maybe then… I’ll consider making you Mrs. Jumin Han. - strikes his sexy half-smile -

MC: - giggles loudly - You don’t need to bribe me with marriage so I’d sing for you Jumin. - shakes head, clears throat -

As Jumin focus on the notes written on his tablet, MC’s voice started filling up around the car. She softly and endearingly sang a song of no specific language, which she would specifically choose so that he wouldn’t get distracted with the words, in her own sweet tone. Her voice… is all what Jumin needs to drain out all the anxiety and stress from him. Her voice would unwind him so much, he wanted to leave all his work and spend hours just listening to the voice of his beloved. It was pure bliss. She was his seraphic beauty. Inside and out.

She suddenly shouts “ NO!!!” takes him in her arms forcefully when everything suddenly went dark.

—————

Jumin wakes up feeling groggy while hearing a very annoying beeping sound. The smell of antibacterial and cleanliness suffocated him and he instantly knew where he was before opening his eyes wide. He was in a hospital, in a room that was so white it almost blinded him. He noticed V stood up from a chair at the end of the room and walked closer to the bed Jumin was on.

V: Thank God, you’re finally awake. I was afraid I’d lose you.

Jumin: Wh-… - clears throat, swallowing very hard -

V: Oh.. Here you go. - passes him a glass of water -

Jumin: - drinks the water and wince in pain as swallowing felt a bit too difficult. Taking a look down at his legs, one of them was in a cast - What happened? Why am I here? And where is MC?

V: - sighs - Please calm down Jumin, okay? You were in a car accident and had a light concussion. It seems like you have short-term memory loss for now from the shock, but everything will come back to you. You sustained a minor fracture in your tibia. The orthopedist will determine the state of your recovery.

Jumin: V… Where. Is. MC?

V: I… can’t say.. I..

Jumin: If you won’t tell me, then I’ll find someone else who will! - starts pressing all the buttons on the side of his bed frantically -

V: Jumin, please listen to me…

Jumin: I will not listen to anymore lies from you! - trembles with anger - Tell me where is my MC? - clenches his fist on the side of the bed so that he won’t physically lash out on his best friend - That is all I ask for! She would’ve been here if she knew I was here! She should be here V!

V: - internally freaks out as he has never seen Jumin lose his composure this fast or ever in his life - Jumin. - V, usually so soft and calm, raises his voice so that he can catch Jumin’s attention - I cannot speak if you won’t listen to me. - leans closer, holding his shoulders, pressing his forehead on Jumin’s - Breathe with me first and I promise I’ll tell you everything.

Jumin: - his rapid breathing calms down slowly and he lets his best friend push him back down on the bed. As V stepped away from the bed, Jumin clasped his hand tightly and pulled him close to the bed - You’re hiding something from me, V. I’ve known you since we were children and I know that look on your face. Please. I beg you.

V: - swallows, nodding. He couldn’t stand looking into Jumin’s blood-shot eyes so he looked away and spoke softly looking at the wall and back at Jumin - MC was with you in the accident Jumin. You don’t remember because of the concussion and possibly from the shock you are experiencing. There was a drunk driver that crashed into the side of your car, according to the police. Their analysis states that she didn’t have time to avoid the crash so she protected you… so MC took most of the blow.

Jumin: What… What do you mean she protected me V!? Do not speak to me in riddles. Where is she now?!

V: - bites lip with frustration and growing dread - She’s still in surgery. She threw herself at you before the cars could even collide. One of her arms is broken. But the problem is… - looks at Jumin sadly - She broke a few ribs and they punctured a few organs. There was some extensive internal bleeding…

Jumin: I don’t believe this… How can she be so reckless? Why would she protect me? I… - closes eyes, throwing hands to cover his face, trying to breathe - Please tell me she is going to live… I want… I need her.. with me.

V: Last I heard, they were closing up. - puts his hand on Jumin’s wrist - Jumin, please have faith that she will be okay. We will hear back from the surgeon’s any minute now. - V pulls Jumin’s hand away from his face - Can you manage to… - stops as he sees tears falling across his best friend’s face - I’ll… I’ll go get the news myself.

V was not able to contain himself either. He had never seen Jumin in such a state before, so broken and hopeless. He ran to find anyone who can update him on MC.

Meanwhile, Jumin stared at the ceiling, feeling pathetic, hopeless and helpless. With a broken tibia, he knew he wouldn’t be able to walk for a while. If it were up to him, he’d barge into the operating room just to see MC’s chest going up and down with every breath she took. He didn’t even bother wiping the tears on his face. What was the point? He couldn’t even be the one to protect the one he loved and there she was… fighting for her life, because of him.

“ What have I ever done for her, to deserve what she has done for me? She was willing to give her life to me, so willingly, so selflessly… I always told her she is way too pure hearted for her own good. I wish she would’ve been more selfish. I wish I told her… all the things I wanted to say… It might be too late. “

V storms into his room and tells him that they have just placed her in the ICU. By the time the anesthesia wears off, she would wake up. As stubborn as he was, Jumin ordered that he be transferred into the same room as MC and would pay any cost to be placed right next to her, to be there when she woke up.

—————

The moment MC opened her eyes, Jumin was right beside her, seated on a wheel chair. He rolled closer to her and took her hand and squeezed it. MC opened her mouth slowly while wincing and Jumin placed his index on his lips, gesturing to her not to speak.

Jumin: Please rest, princess. You have been through a lot… - wiped a stray tear that fell from his eyes, as he was so happy to finally look into her eyes - You know… You’re my hero. - chuckles wryly as he sees her smile faintly - You saved me from death. You fought death for me and then you had to fight it for yourself. It seems like God must want us to still be together cause we are both miraculously… no, thanks to you… we are still here. - places her hand back on the bed, kisses her hand, and each and every finger before resting his head on it - I won’t ask you to forgive me.. Because I can’t…

The nurses came in the room and had to remove some of the machines off MC and make sure she’s hydrated and drinking water. MC was clearly so tired as she would just shake her head yes or no whenever someone spoke to her. After all the procedures with the nurses, she closed her eyes as fell asleep.

MC woke up feeling much better and felt something warm on her lap. Jumin had apparently fallen asleep on the wheel chair with his head on her lap. She knew how he always loved to watch her when she slept. She couldn’t sit up, so she just reached a bit further to reach Jumin’s hair and play with it. It was her own way of waking him up without startling him. He opened his eyes and started blinking his drowsily, smiling sleepily. He saw MC move her mouth but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. He sat up as he looked at MC while he saw her eyes widen in a mixture of panic and horror.

Jumin: MC, what’s wrong? Tell me! - holds her hand down tightly -

MC kept moving her mouth and no sound would come out of her. The silence was heavy with her screams and shouts. Her face became flooded with tears as it registered both in her mind and Jumin’s but they both didn’t say anything. MC started thrashing in her own mute helplessness, panic ruling over all her senses. Jumin, pushed himself with all the strength he could muster to throw himself off onto her bed, and embrace MC. He kept whispering words of comfort in her ears “MC, please breathe. Look at me. Everything is going to be okay, I promise? Do you believe me? I promise I will make everything for you. Don’t be afraid. I’m not gonna leave you for a second from now on.” Jumin struggled to keep his voice under control, from trembling and cracking. Just like he felt inside, slowly breaking on the inside. He held her tightly in her arms as he continued to calm her, she had fallen asleep within minutes to his own surprise and shock.

He threw himself back in his chair and rolled to the first physician he saw in the hallway and hailed for the best doctor, surgeon in the damn country to come see what was wrong with his MC.

The diagnosis was clear. It was vocal chord paralysis. In MC’s case, it was irreversible and she would never be able to speak again, except another miracle took place… Jumin couldn’t think of that any longer… If anything, he believed he was a curse and he was responsible for what happened to his princess.

—————

After informing MC of the final diagnosis, MC had already accepted her fate and knew what they were going to say before they said it. She refused to go through the same panic that she did and she wanted to be strong for Jumin. She saw how broken he was just by looking at him. There were dark circles around his eyes and the frown between his eyebrows would not leave his face. His eyes were blood-shot from the tears that he has shed and hid from her, and those that were still unshed. His voice grew horse with the growing sadness within him. "How can I make him understand that… I don’t regret what I have… I would do it all over again… It’s not your fault…”. She couldn’t help but start crying at all the words she wanted to say, but couldn’t.

Jumin: My love… - brushes his index softly on her cheek, wiping away the tears - I’m sorry.

MC: - mouthes slowly - Jumin. - shakes head - Not. - points at him - Your. Fault.

Jumin: MC… You don’t un- - he bites his lips as she lifts a finger to shut him up, sniffing as the tears continue to stream down her face -

MC: - mouthes to him - I - places hand on her heart - Love. You. - places her hand on his heart, smiling softly through her tears -

Jumin: I love you most. - takes her hand and kisses the inside of her palm - I will love you for as long as we both shall live. I promise. - he smiled as he felt her wipe the tears of his face -

There is nothing more in this life that he would miss more than her soft voice… and those three words.

[50thirdand3rd]

Writer, producer, Poptone drummer, and co-founding member of Tones On Tail and Love And Rockets takes us back to his Bauhaus roots with The Bela Session EP and his new coffee table book, Bauhaus Undead and teases a few hints at what he has in store for 2019!

  Bauhaus – photo by Graham Trott

Kevin Haskins, the elusive Bauhaus drummer is quietly powerful behind his placid, penetrating expression. The jazz trained boyish younger Haskins brother who drew more inspiration from Stephen Morris than Gene Krupa paid his dues in bands with older brother, David J. before forming what would eventually become Bauhaus with friend and fellow art student, Daniel Ash and Daniel’s friend, Peter Murphy. The band’s chemistry was instant and Bauhaus began playing shows wherever they could and on January 26, 1979, the band recorded their iconic debut single, “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” at Beck Studios in Wellingborough a mere six weeks after forming the group.”Bela” was just the beginning and soon Bauhaus found fame and an early fan in the late John Peel who kept the band in heavy rotation on his legendary Radio 1 program. By 1980, the band released their groundbreaking debut LP In The Flat Field to mixed reviews further solidifying their status as post-punk icons with their dark fusion of glam, punk, jazz, dub, and disco and gained a rabid cult following among the cool kids in black on both sides of the pond.

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K0bLCILyVRk%5B/embedyt%5D

  Shortly after Bauhaus called it quits in 1983, Kevin and Daniel continued a fruitful collaboration in the short-lived and lightyears ahead of its time, Tones On Tail with bassist and former Bauhaus roadie, Glenn Campling. TOT scored a dancefloor hit in the US with their 1984 “Lions” b-side “Go!”.

[embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TJC48BRBn8%5B/embedyt%5D

  Two years later, Kevin and Daniel reunited with David J. to form Love And Rockets, who found success with early singles “Ball of Confusion” and “No New Tale To Tell” before scoring a breakout hit with their ubiquitous 1989 single “So Alive” which spent 20 weeks at #3 on Billboard’s Hot 100 chart.

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-L41MhFPU9s%5B/embedyt%5D

  After 40 years of forward motion with not one but two highly influential post-Bauhaus bands, Kevin takes us back to his Bauhaus roots with his new coffee table book, Bauhaus – Undead “The Visual History and Legacy of Bauhaus” and The Bela Session EP which features four previously unreleased tracks along with the iconic 9:37 opus that started it all.

Photo: Jenna Putnam

50thirdand3rd: So, can we talk about Bauhaus Undead?

Kevin Haskins: A good friend of mine who works at Cleopatra, Matt Green, suggested the idea. He knew that I had this big container full of memorabilia. I was the guy who collected everything, kept everything. So, he says, “Why don’t you make a coffee table book?” “Matt, that’s a great idea.” And then he made me an offer to put it out on Cleopatra and I just felt that I would like to self-publish it. So he said, “Of course, that’s your decision. Go ahead and good luck. Wish you all the best.” And so, I went off on my merry way and so along into the process, I ran into this guy, Jeff Anderson, at gigs. And it seemed like fate kind of brought us together. On the third meeting, I said, “What do you do?” And he said, “I make box sets and re-releases for bands and so, I went to his house and I saw these amazing box sets from Sigur Rós and Roger Waters and Beck, Nine Inch Nails, The Pixies – beautiful ones! I thought “This was a no-brainer, let’s do the book together!” He was really excited working with me on that. He brought in a great design team and off we went. And I just sat down and started writing stories which I’ve never done, before.

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aOk0A4pnN8%5B/embedyt%5D

  So, it all took about two years and we designed this huge book with a slipcase and it was this huge, crazy size book! Basically, we really didn’t figure out how much it was gonna cost to make and how much it was gonna cost to ship and Jeff really wanted to use his regular printers in LA. Anyway, a month before, we put on a pre-sale to raise money to have it made. A month before the pre-sale ended, I found out how much it was gonna cost to have it made and it was ridiculous, it was like over $100 to make, in the end! (laughs) I spoke to publishers after the fact, who were very impressed with how many I sold, because it was like $180 or something. But I didn’t raise enough money to get it made, so I had to refund all of the money. Then I went to a bunch of publishers and got a lot of interest from boutique publishers, but they really didn’t have the means to do what I wanted to do, but I did decide to make this book a regular size book, so that we could sell it at a decent price and make it cheap for people.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

And basically, about two years or three years after Matt gave me the idea, I went around his house and he showed me a book that Cleopatra had just put out. I think it was Hanoi Rocks or something and he said it was a great deal for this band it was really great deal and I said, “Oh Matt, could you do the same deal for me, please!” Because I was back at square one, I had nothing, but I did have a book already made, all the layout was all done, all the stories were written, it was proofread. It was just ready to print. So, I was kinda handing him a gift, really, on a plate and he said, “Kevin, I think we can do your good deal.” Which they did and it ended up coming out on Cleopatra, so I did this complete circle, so, now I know everything about printing and shipping and fulfillment companies.

50thirdand3rd: You got a real education on the process.

Kevin Haskins: Yeah, it was a mixture of extreme pain and pleasure. (laughs) I’m really proud of it, it’s over 300 pages and it has some great content. We were all very art inclined so we do a lot of drawings and doodles and I kept all those and I think that’s the stuff that’s very interesting for people. Very personal stuff like that and handwritten lyrics. And when we went to shop “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”, Daniel wrote out all the names of all the companies we went to, EMI and Polydor, all the huge companies and what they said. They all rejected us, so he wrote a kind of note to them, it’s very scruffy, very Daniel and all over the place and there’s drawings of Bubble men all over it. It ended up the last piece that went into the book. I was kind of done and he had just come back from England and raided his mum’s attic and said, “Look what I found!” I’m like, “Oh my god, I’ve gotta get that in the book, it’s so cool!” So, it’s got a lot of funny stories and great memorabilia.

50thirdand3rd: Awesome! I understand you did a book signing at Rough Trade in Brooklyn, this past summer, was it? How did that go?

Kevin Haskins: It went great! We were on tour with Poptone and I set up an In-store for my daughter’s band, Automatic, they were supporting us. 

50thirdand3rd: And that’s your daughter, Lola’s band, right?

Kevin Haskins: Yes, Lola (Dompé), Izzy (Glaudini), and Halle (Saxon Gaines). And then after they played, I did a signing and it was nice, you know, it was my first time in Brooklyn if you can believe that.

View this post on Instagram

We’re playing rough trade tn bbs come through

A post shared by Automatic (@automatic_band) on Jun 29, 2018 at 1:15pm PDT

    50thirdand3rd: Wow, how’d you like it?

Kevin Haskins: We loved it. My wife came out and we rented a really nice Airbnb and got to really walk around, check it out.

Photo: Jenna Putnam

50thirdand3rd: Very cool! How’s the response been with the book?

Kevin Haskins: Really good. Yeah, it’s been great, people love it! I don’t wanna boast but I’m very proud of it and people respond really well to it. There’s a lot of good content in it and I was really happy with the quality and the printing and everything.

50thirdand3rd: It sounds awesome and you had some of the other Bauhaus historians kind of help out, too, with the timeline, did I read that right?

Kevin Haskins: Oh yeah, a guy called Andrew Brooksbank and also I should mention Vincent Forrest and they were very helpful. Andrew is kind of the Bauhaus historian and when our old label, Beggars Banquet, put out re-releases, he always writes the sleeve notes. He’s an extremely organized guy and he’s a good writer and he created this timeline of every show and every radio, like interviews, TV appearances, that type of thing. So, that was really so valuable to me because I can’t remember what I was doing.

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h5UFgXuz1Gc%5B/embedyt%5D

  50thirdand3rd: Right, because you were like in the center of the storm.

Kevin Haskins: Yeah, I was. And he was a great resource and I think he gave me a few items. A few scans of this and that and also helped out in that way. So, it was nice to have fans included, there were people whose names, sorry, I can’t remember, right now, who sent me some great pieces to put in, so it was nice to include people, as well, like that.

50thirdand3rd: That’s really exciting! Seeing it all together in the context of a timeline, how was that? I imagine that would have to be a little awe-inspiring, like “Wow, I did all this!” Like, looking back on it?

Kevin Haskins: Yeah, I’m surprised at how many shows we played because I didn’t think we played that many, but, we did. We really worked! We started from nowhere and the only really then to get known was to play, you know, to get the ball rolling. So, there was a two year period where we were just slogging away. Just trying to get shows when we started, we played in the weirdest places. (laughs) Like, I got a gig, there’s a little village called Ilchester and it was a Sunday lunchtime community center and it was bright sunshine. It was in a modern kind of bland hall with big glass windows, very bright, and there were kids running around playing, parents just eating, and Bauhaus were playing to these people. It was completely ridiculous! And then Peter got us a similar thing but in a working men’s club on a lunchtime.

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5DUQuY1mf4%5B/embedyt%5D

  50thirdand3rd: Oh, wow! How was that?

Kevin Haskins: After our first number, this old character, this old guy who worked there came up to us and he said, “What are you trying to do? Blow the bloody roof off? Play something that people know! You know, something we can tap our foot to!” (Laughs)

50thirdand3rd: Character building, I imagine!

Kevin Haskins: Yeah, blow the bloody roof off! So, we would play anywhere we could. Actually, and I wrote about this in the book. Really, our first show, I think went kind of undocumented. Daniel got us this rehearsal room at a teacher training college in Northampton and we were in a kind of portacabin, this kind of a prefabricated classroom, you know, it was kind of like a trailer. 

50thirdand3rd: Oh, okay.

Kevin Haskins: It was outside the main building, just adjacent. And it was adjacent to the student union room where they would have bands play and they had a bar. It was winter and it was snowing, I remember, and The Pretenders were playing that night. So, we were rehearsing late afternoon and we kind of finished and we were like, “Is anybody going to see The Pretenders?” “Yeah, I am.” Kinda fancied that and then one of us had this idea that why don’t we just follow them? “What do you mean?” So, the next minute, we open the door, dragging up our gear up this, it was like an incline, covered in snow, dragging all our gear, and there was the French door, like this big glass door that opened up and we just opened the door and we just set up really fast in the corner of the room and by this time it was like 7:00. People were just coming in and The Pretenders had just done their soundcheck and we just set up and started playing. So, a crowd appeared around us, and we got about two or three songs out of the way, we didn’t have many songs, we had just started, and the student union came up and he was like, “Wait a minute, stop, what are you guys doing?” We’re like, “Oh, we’re the support band.” And he’s like, “Really?” And we’re like, “Yeah, we’re the support band.” And he was like scratching his head and like looking at us very suspiciously and he turned away and he walked away and he was kind of looking over his shoulder. And we sold it and then we’re like, “Get into the next song!” And we managed to get two more songs done and then he brought everyone from the student union and they shut us down. They said, “Hey, you’re not the support band!” So, we supported The Pretenders, punk rock Guerrilla style. (Laughs)

50thirdand3rd: That’s awesome!

Kevin Haskins: I’m sure Chrissie Hynde would’ve appreciated that. I don’t know if she heard that we did that.

50thirdand3rd: I hope she finds out!

Kevin Haskins: We were dying to play, all we wanted to do was play.

50thirdand3rd: That’s really cool! So, The Bela Session EP you recently put out, could we talk a little bit about that? I understand it was the first time you guys worked with Derek Tompkins. Like, he was really important to like Bauhaus and he produced Love And Rockets, too, right? Like he was Engineer/Producer at Beck Studios for you guys, can you tell me a little bit about that?

Kevin Haskins: Sure, we’ll start with Derek. I think we went to Beck before Bauhaus, we were in other bands, like The Craze, Jack Plug and The Sockettes, these kinds of new wave bands, but it was Peter’s first time in the studio when we went with Bauhaus. And Derek was this amazing character. I always kind of viewed Derek as our George Martin. Mainly because he was older than us and he really didn’t know anything about fads or fashions which was good because he just approached it from what sounds exciting and what sounds good. He just instinctively knew how to produce bands and also he was a bit of a rogue, he was a really funny guy, very smart, very opinionated, a bit of a rebel. And he had a great stutter, he stuttered and just consumed endless cups of coffee and cigarettes. Like really unhealthy, but he kind of like built the desk. He built of a lot of the equipment in the studios. 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

So, anyway, The Bela Session was the idea of Andrew Brooksbank. He emailed me one day and he said, “What do you think about this idea? Why don’t you release the entire recording from the day you recorded ‘Bela Lugosi’s Dead’?” Three of the songs had never been released and I just said, “This is a brilliant idea! I can’t believe no one had thought about it, before!” And he said, “Yeah, it would be the holy grail of the band’s fans.” And I said, “Marvelous idea!” And for some reason, he had the original 1/4” tape and box. I don’t know how these guys get hold of these things, you know, I know they’re in good hands. And so, his idea was to use a scan of the tape box and it’s to the cover and I later thought, it would be great for the inner sleeve. So, that’s what the inner sleeve is and you can actually see the front and back of the original tape box. It’s marvelous, it’s got the aged patina and the picks, crossing things out and notes, so it’s a wonderful thing just to view.    

50thirdand3rd: That’s really cool!

Kevin Haskins: Yeah, and just for the cover we came up with the idea of just doing a negative of the original cover, so, it’s white on black and yeah, so it has three unreleased songs and they’re interesting to hear because, you know, some of them, one of them, in particular, I think “Some Faces” doesn’t sound like Bauhaus, at all. It’s kind of a chirpy, bright sort of a new wave song, but it’s interesting to listen because you can kind of see a bit of an evolution. Right, like this is us. We had only formed about six weeks before, I think. So, it captures the band in a period of its formative period. 

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vV772Ht1Sys%5B/embedyt%5D

  And we ended up going with Leaving Records which are an imprint of Stones Throw and they did a marvelous job, I think. They really chose a great kind of engineer and they’ve really been wonderful, I’m so happy with the product and also Bela hasn’t been available on vinyl for, I don’t know, twenty years or something crazy. It’s really nice to have it in record racks, again. And I just remembered another story from that day. So, “Bela” is about nine minutes long, but we actually laid down eleven or twelve minutes.

50thirdand3rd: Oh wow!

Kevin Haskins: And we kind of listened back and we thought, “This is a little bit too long.” And we could kind of imagine if we cut three minutes out of this, we’d probably be good. And Derek said, “I..I can do that!” And we were kind of naive and it was probably only our second or third time, Peter’s first time in the studio. And he (Derek) disappeared and he came back with a little razor blade and he got the tape and he laid it down and we were like looking at him like, “What’s he doing?” And then he began bringing the blade down towards the tape and we all knew we had recorded something really special and he was gonna cut the tape and we were like, “No! Stop!” “What are you doing?”

50thirdand3rd: Gasp!

Kevin Haskins: Then he like turned around and he’s like saying, “What’s your problem?” And he explained that he’s done this many times, before and not to worry, you know, you can always put it back together, again. And he did a great edit, you can’t hear the edit if you really listen out for it, though. He did a very good job.

    50thirdand3rd: That’s awesome! So, if I can nerd out on you, for a sec, I know John Peel was like one of the first people to really play “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” on his show. Could you tell me a little bit about getting to go to John Peel’s studio?

Kevin Haskins: Sure, yeah. I actually devoted a story to John in my book. I cannot stress how important he was to bands such as us and I guess, after us. I mean, the airwaves were really, this was pre-internet, of course. The airwaves were really controlled just by the BBC. There were a couple of pirate stations, Radio Powerline and Radio Luxembourg that you could tune into and that was free radio but the BBC really controlled everything. They had John Peel on at 10 o’clock at night and they probably weren’t really listening to what he was doing. (Laughs) And his taste was just remarkable and I remembered he kept devoting his two-hour show to punk rock and in ’76, I think “New Rose” by The Damned had just come out and you know, there weren’t many punk records, back then, right at the beginning. So, he did this whole show and put bands that like influenced this new movement. So, there’s The Stooges and the MC5, bands like that and then he played every punk single that was out and it was a wonderful show. And he got a lot of hate mail, apparently, from hippies of the old guard saying, “How can you be playing this rubbish?” But he went on undeterred, he wouldn’t listen to anybody, he just played what he liked. So, he was invaluable to getting bands known. And it really helped us and a load of other bands.

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMuB2PjjRic%5B/embedyt%5D

  So, anyway, we heard “Bela Lugosi” and I think we just drove down to London, which I think was like an hour and a half’s drive and we went to the BBC Studio building and went to reception and we said, ”We want to see John Peel” and the receptionist looked at us like, “Who…Are you kidding me?” And she said, “Oh, well, I’ll call up.” And she did and his producer said, “Oh, show them up. It’s fine” which was remarkable, really. He was in the middle of a show, so, they let us come up and to us, we were in awe. It was amazing, we were actually in his studio with John and he offered us some red wine and we had a little red wine in BBC paper cups and gave him the record and he kind of sent us on our way pretty fast. He told us he’d play it and I remember, you know, when he played it for the first time, we knew that this night was gonna do it! We all lived in this house 37 Adams Avenue, it was like a little terraced house in town and you know, we would cook these awful meals with like vegetables because we were on the dole and we didn’t have much money. And it was freezing cold in this place and it was kind of haunted, it was kind of in a slum (laughs) but we were kids, it didn’t matter. But I remember we were all huddled around this transistor radio, listening to the show when he played our song. That moment is just imprinted in my mind because it was just remarkable to hear your music coming out of a radio, you know, it was just so exciting and it was like a benchmark moment. So, now, I remember that really clearly and yeah, I paid homage to him in my book and wrote a nice piece about him.

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FMLNwT4v5Rc%5B/embedyt%5D

  50thirdand3rd: So, I’ve gotten really hooked on Poptone, recently and I was watching the tour livestreams you guys were doing on Facebook from last year. It looks like you guys were having fun, especially with the fans. Can you tell me a little more about how those tours have been going?

Kevin Haskins: Well, it was great but we kind of wrapped it up, over the summer. Basically, we kind of exhausted where everywhere people wanted us to play. It was great, it was so much fun! You know, Daniel’s still a very close friend of mine and we always have a laugh hanging out, we got on really well and then I was so glad to have my daughter involved (Diva Dompé). She plays bass and keyboards and backup vocals and she was amazing, she really brought so much to that project, I felt.

Photo: Paul Rae

50thirdand3rd: Yeah, she’s rad!

Kevin Haskins: She had big shoes to fill, she was playing my brother’s bass lines, Glenn Campling’s amazing bass lines, I mean I can’t say enough great things about Glenn’s playing in terms of what he brought to Tones On Tail. Like, those bass lines are just remarkable, there’s just so simple but so powerful, you know, kind of like riffs and so it was it was a great pleasure to play that music. Yeah, I knew that would be an attractive thing for fans just because we only played one little tour over a year and that was in the UK, so you know, it was fun for us to play those songs, again.

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwYq2FfsBKo%5B/embedyt%5D

  And I think people really love to hear them, we had a great crew, just like a small family, and we had a marvelous time. I was really taken aback in a marvelous way with the audiences who came out to see us. They were so appreciative and towards the end, I would out after the show to the merch table and sell my book, Bauhaus Undead by Kevin Haskins, *plug*. And then I’d get to meet all these wonderful people and they were so happy and appreciative that we were doing it, so it was like a whole celebration. 

It was marvelous but it’s kind of on the back burner, now. I mean it is something that we could pick up, again. We did record an album, you know, it was kind of a retrospective project, just for people who were unaware, we were playing the music from Bauhaus, Love And Rockets, and Tones On Tail and we recorded an album. We did it as a Part-Time Punks session, Part-Time Punks radio station (KXLU) in LA and then Michael Stock he also puts a club night on and he’s a wonderful guy. So, we just kind of played pretty much live and put the songs down and that’s been released out on Cleopatra Records and so, you can go to Bandcamp and buy that or listen to it.

Poptone poster by Paul Rae

  50thirdand3rd: Can we talk a little about the FOXES TV show you’ve got coming up and how you got involved in that?

Kevin Haskins: Sure, yeah! So, I met Tina and Julian (de la Celle), they are the creators of the show. I met them at one of their events. They put on events around Los Angeles, they get local musicians, they’ve done kind of thematic events where they portrayed Andy Warhol’s Factory, they had a bunch of young bands get together and play Velvet Underground songs. They did the same with CBGB’s and the Bat Cave, they’re really nice people, they love music and fashion, it’s such a strong passion for them. They have a magazine called FOXES and it’s a beautiful magazine, comes out twice a year, and they get really great photographers to shoot for them and they do interviews, so, I did an interview about my book, Bauhaus Undead, my coffee table book, plug! plug!  

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

50thirdand3rd: Right, yeah!

Kevin Haskins: There’s a singer from the New York Dolls who goes under the name, Buster Poindexter, now, and does kind of a lounge act, he was in the issue. I think Duff from Guns ’n’ Roses and they have these great fashion spreads. It’s shot very beautifully, kind of cinematic and stylish, stylized. So, they decide to turn the magazine into a TV show because there’s nothing really to watch like that, you know. So, anyway, they approached me around September time, last year and asked me if I wanted to be a producer and music supervise and I thought it was an exciting new challenge. So, we just kind of went on from there and the three of us kind of learned how to navigate the industry and what you have to do to get a TV show made. So, it’s taken us this long to really figure that and so we made like a great concept sizzle reel where we’ve taken slotage from other shows like The Tube and fashion show footage and just still photography and it really sort of represents the aesthetic of the show. And then we worked together a treatment which is kind of PDF, you do a similar thing, just for people who don’t know what treatments are, you explain what you’re going to do, you’ll explain what the episode will look like, and the sequence of events during that episode. You put bios from everyone who’s attached to the project. Your dream hosts, presenters, so there you go! So, when Richard submitted that to the network to my agency and we’re now waiting to hear back.     

  [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5cd1LlXP_pk%5B/embedyt%5D

  50thirdand3rd: This sounds really cool! Can you tell me a little bit about what views can expect to hear and maybe see?

Kevin Haskins: Well, the original feel for the show is very rock and roll. Basically, Tina, Julian, and I, we love glam, punk, post-punk rock and roll, you know, that area of things. But what we’d really like to do is we’d really like to broaden it more, now. Hmm, I don’t know who would be on the first show, I know Tina loves Duran Duran, so our dream show would include them, maybe for an interview or performance. And the project has to depend on who’s available for the team.

50thirdand3rd: Of course.    

Kevin Haskins: And we want to give space for unheard of bands that we really like. Actually, we did shoot my daughter’s band, Automatic.

50thirdand3rd: Oh, cool!

Kevin Haskins: They’re worth checking out. Also, there’s a band called POW! I would definitely have them on. Other LA bands, Froth, Numb.er, and then, I’d love to get Nick Cave on, for instance. You know, it’s really wide open but they’re the artists that come to mind, right now.

Photo: Jenna Putnam

50thirdand3rd: Cool, I can’t wait to check that out! So, do you have any other music projects coming up for this year?

Kevin Haskins: Well, I’ve actually been invited to kind of produce, also, I’ve been kind of involved in writing on another tv show and I can’t say much about it for obvious reasons, but it’s a comedy set in Los Angeles. One of my close friends has created it and helped me write it, now, which is something I’ve never ever done, before and it was challenging and it was fun, so, I’m excited about that. I feel that it could really work out well, so, a completely new thing, once again, like the FOXES TV thing. And I have a new musical project that I’m very excited about. I don’t know if I can say much about that, but, I’ll give you some cryptic hints. There’s primarily three of us and we’re looking for a vocalist, right now. We’ve put word out to who we really want. We’re going to be recreating music from the bands we were in and also creating new music, but the instrumentation is very particular and different from what you might expect. (Laughs) And I think I’m going to leave it at that, but it’s a teaser and you’re really the first person I’ve told about.

50thirdand3rd: Thank you very much! An Exclusive!

Kevin Haskins: And the way things are going, we’ve got quite a ways to go, there. We’re just starting out and we haven’t got a full band, yet, so it might be the fall until we play or release something but we are going to work on a release and I’m really excited about it. It’s got great potential.

50thirdand3rd: Very cool!

Pick up a copy of Kevin Haskins’ Bauhaus Undead from Cleopatra, Rough Trade, and Amazon. Pick up Poptone’s self-titled LP and follow Kevin Haskins Official Facebook and Instagram for the latest on FOXES TV, updates on his next series, and more on his upcoming music project —You read it first, here at 50thirdand3rd!

Follow Kevin Haskins:

https://twitter.com/kevinmhaskins

https://www.instagram.com/bauhausundeadbook/

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCNKf_DvhGkidQFDmnoxyO3g

http://poptone.bandcamp.com

  Follow Foxes Magazine:

https://www.facebook.com/FoxesMagazine

https://twitter.com/FOXES_Magazine

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCAC2rwsSytKP6kf-olCZ4Lw/videos

https://www.instagram.com/foxes_magazine

http://foxesmagazine.tumblr.com

50THIRDAND3RD INTERVIEW: Kevin Haskins Writer, producer, Poptone drummer, and co-founding member of Tones On Tail and Love And Rockets takes us back to his Bauhaus roots with…

[speedsterimagines]

LADYKILLR (Continuous Version)

All Parts, in order, can be read in one continuous post here. DUN DUN.

Summary: Dating a detective certainly has it pros and cons, but when a disheveled criminal is looking to settle a score, he goes after what Detective Carisi loves the most… you.

Word Count: 1270 + 1494 + 1370 + 1554  

Warnings: Violence, Home Intrusion, Head Injury, Serial Killer, Murder Victims, Stab Wound, Blood

(Part 1)

The timer in your kitchen beeped as you slid the oven mitts on your hands. You opened the oven allowing the smell of chocolate chip cookies to fill your small apartment. Fresh, made from scratch chocolate chip cookies, to be exact. The day you told your grandmother you were moving to the big city, she gifted you her secret recipe. According to her, it was a little piece of home to bring to the Big Apple and to be frank, right now you needed it. Work had been hectic lately and it showed no sign of slowing down. So, with your first day off in weeks, you put on your favorite apron and baked to heart’s desire. You placed the already cooled batch of cookies into separate Tupperware to make room for the fresh ones, ready to be placed into your tote bag and brought to the precinct.

You’d been dating Sonny for a little under a year now, but the both of you fell in love fast and strong. As would be expected, dating a detective comes with the understanding that his schedule wasn’t set in stone. There were many a night when Sonny was too busy for a date night, but no matter what, you both still managed to see each other. On late nights when the squad was working overtime, you’d bring home cooked meals or fresh coffee, taking care of his coworkers as if they were your extended family. So, when you found out you weren’t going to be able to see your boyfriend on your only night off in weeks, you were bummed without a doubt. But like always, you’d figured out a way to at least pop-in, hence, the cookie run.

Knowing that Sonny’s work schedule was hectic, you unlocked your phone and wrote out a short text to give a heads up that you’d planned to stop by and drop off the sweet treats.

Surprise, I’m bringing a batch of Grandma’s cookies for everyone. Be there in 30 minutes ;)

You placed your phone on the countertop before looking down to see your clothes were splattered with cookie batter. And that’s why you don’t bake in nice clothes, you thought to yourself and headed towards the bedroom to find a quick change of clothes. You didn’t feel the need to get dressed up, so you picked a simple outfit of skinny jeans and one of Sonny’s Fordham Law sweatshirts. You glanced in the mirror, making sure there wasn’t any more batter, before slipping on a pair of shoes and walking back towards the kitchen to read Sonny’s response.

This is why I love you… See you soon.

You smiled down at your phone and placed it in your back pocket when a knock at the door almost made you jump out of your skin. You weren’t expecting company and if Sonny was on his way he would’ve said so. Sonny’s voice popped into your head, reciting one of the many tips that he’d burned in your brain, as you walked softly towards your door, making as little noise as possible. Relaxation set in after you placed your eye over the peephole to see a large bouquet of flowers.

“Who is it,” you asked through the door.

“Flower delivery for a, uh, Miss Carisi,” he spoke in a thick Brooklyn accent.

You laughed at the name, obviously a mix up, although you didn’t mind hearing it. It’s not like you hadn’t practiced signing it a few times like a school girl in her diary. You unlatched the locks on your door and opened it finding a bouquet so large, that it completely covered the man’s face. Sonny, you have outdone yourself this time. You instinctively smelled the flowers as the man handed them towards you, your view still obstructed by the massive arrangement.

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” You took a step back, reaching out to close the door but the man placed his foot in the frame, effectively blocking the door from closing. Your heart pounded in your chest as he put his hand on the door to open it widely.

“Do I smell cookies?” The man’s voice deepened as he peered past you into the kitchen. His face now visible, showing off his collection of neck and face tattoos. Your heart began to pound even harder, so harsh you swore it might break one of your ribs.

“It’s a family recipe, I was going to drop them off at the precinct,” you said adding emphasis on your last word hoping that he’d get the hint and walk away. Please take the hint and walk away.

“Oh yeah? Special Victims Unit, right?” He said taking another step towards you, now completely inside of your apartment. “That’s where your boyfriend works… Detective Carisi.”

It was in that moment that your heart was no longer thrashing around in your chest, it seemed to stop. Mid-pump, your heart froze in your chest. How did he know who Sonny was? How did he know where he worked? And how did you know who you were and where you lived? You felt your phone buzz in your back pocket, most likely Sonny asking if you were close, immediately feeling like it was miles away.

You felt bile rising in your throat, noticing that he’d begun walking towards you and instinctively threw the vase of flowers towards him. The vase shattered as he swiped it to the side and it made contact with the wall.

“Why did you have to do that sweetheart?” He laughed as he shook his head. “Those cost me a pretty penny. Now you’ve just hurt my feelings.”

You backed up towards the kitchen, refusing to turn your back to the man who lurched towards you. You internally cursed yourself for not keeping your knives on the counter top like normal people. Sonny’s nieces and nephews came over regularly, so it was imperative to keep hidden away. Instead of finding a knife, the only thing in arm’s reach was the bag you had prepared.You threw it with all your might, sending the contents flying.

The carton of milk hit the floor and burst open, just another thing added to the mess on the floor. You had nothing left to fight him off and at this point all you could do was pray that Sonny wouldn’t be the person to find you dead. He knew you were supposed to arrive any moment and when he didn’t get a reply, he’d know something was wrong.

You studied the features of the man in front of you, assuming it might be the last face you ever look at. He had a large scar across his left eyebrow, a thick gold chain bearing the cross, and tattooed boldly on his neck the words, LADYKILLR. As you focused on the man in front of you, you noticed that he’d left the door cracked open slightly. If you ran, he was sure to catch you, but if you stayed put you might as well surrender your life before him. 

Feeling a surge of adrenaline, you followed your human instinct rather than fight you chose flight and you turned to run away. Almost immediately your legs gave out from underneath you as you slipped on the milk that had spread throughout the kitchen floor. The man stood above you as he grabbed you by your hair and slammed your head to the floor knocking you out cold.

The world around you went black almost immediately leaving only enough time for one final thought to rush through your mind. Please, Sonny, don’t find me.

(Part 2)

Sonny had been sitting at his desk for what seemed like the past 72 hours which wasn’t too far from the actual time elapsed. His normally organized work space was scattered with evidence and photos along with old chinese take out and an ice cold cup of coffee. SVU had been knee deep in a serial killer case for almost a month now, but from the beginning it seemed as though they were fighting a losing battle.

Someone was loose in the streets of Manhattan brutally attacking and murdering women at random. None of the victims could be linked to each other in any way, not their jobs, neighborhoods, or friends. The only thing the women had in common was the way they were killed. Each victim was found in her own home, no sign of forced entry, as if they knew the killer or they were welcomed in with a single stab wound to abdomen.

A couple of weeks ago, they came across a lead that seemed promising. An elderly woman claimed that she saw a delivery man at her neighbor’s door the night of her murder. Even though she claimed he had a neck tattoo, her eye sight wasn’t what it used to be and there was no way of knowing what the tattoo was. There were thousands of delivery men with neck tattoos walking the streets of Manhattan, b t there were only a handful that had previous charges, including one man who was on parole.

Hector Beckett, 37 years old, was out on parole after being charged with battery and attempted rape and had been working as a delivery man for the last few months. And as the sole eye witness describes, on the left side of his neck in old-fashioned tattoo font was the word, LADYKILLR. When Sonny came across his name and put all the pieces together, he got the approval from Olivia and made the arrest. During his interrogation he informed Hector that there was a witness that put him at the scene and his violent criminal past wasn’t going to help the situation.

“You know, when I turned eighteen I told my ma I was gonna get a tattoo,”  Sonny smirked from across the metal table. “You would’ve thought I said I was gonna have a limb cut off by the way she reacted. In hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t get it, those things are forever y’know? I wanted the name of my favorite scripture, Proverbs 16:9, in his mind a man plans his course,” Sonny paused for a moment putting emphasis into his words. “But the Lord directs his steps.”

Hector sat straight faced, not interested in the slightest by the detective’s small talk.

“Still would be a pretty good tattoo, come to think of it. But yours? Wow, LADYKILLR? It’s moving, truly touching. How did you choose that one?”

“What can I say? The ladies love me,” he sat back in his chair making himself comfortable.

“I’m sure you love them too,” Sonny spoke sarcastically as he opened up the folder on the table. “I bet you really loved them when you made your way into their homes and stabbed them to death.”

“You got an old lady, detective?” He laughed watching Sonny’s muscles tense at the thought of such an malicious person even thinking about the woman he loved. “Who am I kidding, you’re not really my type, but I know a handsome man when I see one. Maybe I’ll give her a visit when I get out of here.”

“Too bad you’re going to be here for a while,” Sonny stood up exiting the room before he lost control of his temper.

Olivia knew Hector wasn’t going to admit to anything and when he requested a lawyer, they were informed there simply wasn’t enough solid evidence to keep him, and within half and hour Hector Beckett walked out a free man.

Which put Sonny in his current situation now, sitting at his desk, looking over every last detail hoping something would stick out like a beacon that had previously gone unnoticed, hoping to find to anything that would incriminate Beckett. He was tired, he’d had a headache for the last three days, and truth be told, he just needed a break. And as if it was a sign from God, he’d received a text from his girlfriend saying she was stopping by the precinct for a visit. Sonny stared at the clock on the wall watching the hands move so slowly, for a moment he was convinced the battery must have been dead. Knowing that a watched pot never boils, he made his way to the break room and replaced his ice cold coffee with a fresh cup.

“What’s got you smilin’ Carisi?” Fin teased as he held out his mug for a refill.

“My girl’s stopping by,” Sonny grinned, proud to show you off. “And she’s bringing cookies.”

“Oh word, those one’s from the Christmas party?”

“Those would be the ones.”

“It’s about time we got some good news around here,” Fin’s eyes lit up like a child in a candy store.

Sonny put the coffee pot back and returned to his desk, starting the paperwork he’d been avoiding, hoping that busy work would make the time go by faster and it did. By time he’d put his signature on the last sheet, he checked his phone for the time, noticing that you were almost twenty five minutes late. He unlocked his phone and clicked your name to call you but it went to voicemail. He wasn’t sure if it was his own impatience or genuine worry, but he began typing out a message and stared at his phone waiting for a reply.

Are you on your way? Fin’s asked about the cookies twice already.

A few minutes passed, still no reply. Sonny was never the one to double text, he didn’t want to feel like he was bothering someone, but it had now been almost 40 minutes since your intended arrival.

You’re starting to make me nervous, do I need to come over?

When his phone finally vibrated, he practically knocked over his coffee cup reaching to grab it. His brows furrowed as he read the words displayed on his screen.

Sorry I’m L8, got 2 reschedule

He read your words a few more times and couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. If his instinct was wrong, he was worrying about nothing. But it only took seconds to make up his mind and he wasn’t willing to risk your safety in any circumstance. He hurried towards Olivia’s office making sure to knock a couple times before letting himself in. His red scarf was already draped around his neck and he held his tan coat in his hands. Sonny prided himself in knowing you completely, so when he had a gut feeling that something was wrong he wasn’t willing to waste any time.

“Hey, Lieu, I need an hour.”

“Right now? We’re in the middle of an investigation, Carisi.” She looked up at him through the black reading glasses that were rested on the end of her nose.  He was never the kind of person to leave work for a non-emergent reason which caught Olivia’s attention.

“I know, but it’s about- it’s a personal thing.” Sonny was flustered and it showed as he ran his fingers through his perfectly styled hair, not worried in the slightest if he messed it up.

“Anything I can help with?”

“I’m not sure,(Y/N) was supposed to stop by today, but she was running late so I texted her to see where she was.”

“Well, Carisi, that’s not exactly out of the ordinary,” she crossed her arms across her chest.

“I know, but this is.” He handed her his phone allowing her to read his text messages.

“She’s never used an abbreviation in her text messages in the entire time I’ve known her. I also tried calling her and it’s going straight to voicemail.”

If it was one thing Olivia prided herself in, it was trusting her detectives completely. So she handed back the phone and nodded, Sonny’s signal that he was free to go. “Call if you need anything,” she said before he all but ran towards the exit.

“Hey babe, it’s me again. You’re making me nervous please pick up the phone.”

He hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket and made his way through the door, choosing to walk rather than drive. If somehow you were still on your way to the precinct, this is the route you would’ve chose and eventually he’d cross your path. With no luck, he’d made it to your building not seeing you once. The walk hallway towards your apartment felt longer than usual and instinctively he held a hand on his gun. He counted the golden numbers on the doors until he reached yours, noticing the door of 3G was slightly ajar.

He removed his gun from the holster, using it to open your door and scanned your apartment. Flowers and milk scattered were across the floor, signalling that his suspicions were right, and he held his gun at attention. Alone in the middle of the apartment, you were tied to a kitchen chair dressed in only your jeans and bra. Blood and sweat had run down your face and by your foot a small pool had formed from the cut to your stomach. You looked up when you heard the footsteps walking through the door, finding Sonny with his gun pointed towards you.

You furiously shook your head, trying to signal to him that it wasn’t safe for him to enter as the intruder in your apartment had positioned himself beside the door. Not heeding your warning, he took another step forward before Hector Beckett quietly walked behind him.

“SONNY, BEHIND YOU,” you screamed as you saw the man launch towards your boyfriend. “SONNY!”

(Part 3)

Your eyes squeezed tight before you opened them trying to gain a sense of your surroundings. There was a deep throbbing pain radiating from the back of your head, causing you to let out a groan. Instinctively, you tried reaching for the source of the pain only to notice you weren’t moving, you couldn’t. Both your wrists and ankles were duck taped to one of your kitchen chairs.

“Well, well, it’s about time,” a voice sang from the kitchen. You looked up to see Hector searching through your belongings. Most of the drawers and cabinets were open, and your apartment looked like a tornado had spun its way through. “You keep this place organized,” he said helping himself to another drawer. “It was easy to find the duct tape.”

You focused back on your hands, trying to writhe your way out. Why didn’t Sonny ever share the tip of how to escape from the confines of duct tape. It didn’t matter anyway, it was too late.  

“Where are the knives?” He mumbled to himself.

“We keep them hidden away so small children and serial killers can’t find them,” you sneered from the other side of the room.

“It’s not nice to call people names.”

“It’s not nice to tie people to kitchen chairs either.“ You continued to try to free your limbs, but any effort caused the pounding in your head to grow. It only took a few moments to groan in defeat, you were stuck.

The harsh vibration of your phone against the counter caused the both of you to glance up. You knew it was Sonny, you weren’t sure how long you were knocked out, but you knew it was bound to happen. The image began to evolve in front of your eyes. Sonny would grow worried about you. He’d send few texts, which would tun into a few phone calls, and eventually he’d walk through the door to find your lifeless body somewhere in the apartment. You shook the thought from your head, fully knowing that thinking of the worst possible outcome wouldn’t aid the situation at all.

You watched the man pick up your phone and read the text message to himself. “This thing has gone off four times already,” he huffed looking down at the phone. "It’s kinda sweet, he’s worried about you.”

“I need to answer the phone, if I don’t-” you watched him place the phone back where he found it. “He’s going to come looking for me, you know. It’s his job.”

“Let him,” he found the knives and picked his choice. “We’ve met before. You could say we’re acquaintances.” He pulled up another kitchen chair and sat himself in front of you. It gave you a chance to look at him, to really soak in his features. To peep the man who was going to end your life.

His eyes were cold and frigid, paired with deep crows feet wrinkles.  The man that sat in front of you was the kind of person that parents warn their children about. No doubt, that when strangers pass him on the street, they shove their hands further into their pockets and take a step further towards the edge. It wasn’t a friendly face and in this moment, it was so close to yours that you could reach out and touch it. That’s if you could touch it, which you couldn’t, nor would you want to.

“Has he told you about me?” Hector leaned back in his chair allowing a grin to form on his face. You simply nodded, too afraid to talk.

“Do you think I did it?”

You nodded your head once more, as you watched him play with the knife in his hands like it was a toy.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Your boyfriend thought so too. I’ve had a lot of shit go wrong since he accused me of that.”

The sound of your phone startled the both of you when it began ringing from the other side of the room. He let it go to voicemail and watched the look on face as it stopped ringing. The look of hopelessness and dread knowing that you wouldn’t hear Sonny’s voice on the other end.

“Any who, before I was interrupted… Thanks to him,” he pointed at the phone behind him. “The second my parole officer found out I got arrested, he started threatening to put me back in. I already did 10 years, it ain’t that bad. I’d like to see some of my old friends. Oh and I lost my job. But, that’s replaceable, but you know what isn’t?”

Your ringtone filled the room again, but this time Hector didn’t move. He just sat still, watching you twist your arms against the tape until they bled. You were beginning to panic and it was obvious, but you refused to lose your otherwise collected demeanor.

“My old lady tried to leave me. She said it was the final straw. She could never love a murderer and how was she supposed to know she was next or something like that. I tuned her out halfway through.” Your phone pinged with the notification of yet another voicemail, before he continued on. “I loved her, wrote her every day while I was in Rikers, made her my everything, and she tries to leave after one little thing goes wrong. Ask me what happened.”

You sat silently praying that any moment Sonny would walk through that door to check on you. This was what he prided himself in. Protecting people and knowing when someone needs that protection. He knows something is wrong, you haven’t answered the phone. But when he was going to do something about it.. that’s what mattered.

“ASK ME WHAT HAPPENED,” he yelled causing you to practically jump out of your skin. “What happened,” you asked trying to control the shaking of your voice.

“I let her go,” he returned to his eerily calm demeanor he had only moments before. “I let her go half way through the kitchen before I stabbed her in the heart. She bled out so fast.” His eyes had begun to glaze over as the picture of the memory began to play. He rewatched the woman he had devoted most of his years towards, begging for help. In a matter of moments, she bled out and laid lifeless on the floor.

Your phone rang for a third time and caused Hector to finally break and charge towards the kitchen and throw your phone against the wall. You jumped back once more and caused your chair to scoot back. He threw his hands against his head and began muttering words to himself.

“I lost her, I lost her, I lost her,” he mumbled as he walked back towards you. “I lost her.” He stared at you an uncomfortable amount of time before he spoke again. “I lost her and now he’s going to lose you.” The bile rose in your throat as you registered the words you’d been expecting to hear this entire time. You began to shift your body weight in an attempt to move yourself as far away as possible. But he held his hand out and steadied the chair as he pointed the knife to your chest and dragged it down your abdomen.

You shook watching him hold the knife in his hand, trying to ready yourself for the pain that you were about to feel. You felt the cold blade skate across your skin, searching for the perfect spot, before it slid into your body like soft butter. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, but that was just the adrenaline talking. Every bit of breath you had in your lungs expelled as he retracted the life, leaving a thin hole in your abdomen.

You looked down, seeing the blood begin to seep out, and immediately felt light-headed. You recognized the familiar woozy feeling you felt before passing out followed by the cold rush. Please don’t pass out, please don’t pass out, you repeated to yourself try to retain consciousness.

(Part 4)

You had been floating in and out of consciousness for the last fifteen minutes. The adrenaline had run its course and all you had left was the pure agony that had associated itself with your wound. You’d been staring at the floor, watching the blood pool around your feet, trying to hold on. Any attempt to free yourself at this point would only make you bleed out faster and you refused to allow Sonny to find your dead body.

Your eyes opened at the sound of footsteps at the door of your apartment. You felt your heart rate increase substantially and began fearing the worst. Hector would be on his way towards you to finish you off. You were taking to long to die and he needed to leave. You gathered the courage to look up only to see your front door opening and Hector hiding in the nook beside it.  Things would’ve clicked if you hadn’t lost so much blood, but you still watched confused.

A gun poked it’s way through the door, opening it wide, and revealed the man you’d been waiting for this whole time. You would’ve prayed out loud if it didn’t take so much energy. You watched him scan the room before his eyes landed on you. Sonny’s eyes wide, already showing a large array of emotions, but his defensive stance didn’t falter. You felt a large sweep of relief overcome your body and a small twinge of hope that you might actually make it out of this.

You sat watching Sonny take another step into your apartment before you furiously shook your head, trying to signal that it wasn’t safe for him to enter. Hector had your blood stained knife in his hands, waiting for the perfect moment to attack and it was soon. Sonny ignored your warning and took another step forward before Hector quietly walked behind him.

“SONNY, BEHIND YOU,” you screamed as you saw the man launch towards your boyfriend. “SONNY!”

Your call was Hector’s queue to launch forward and begin slashing his knife every which way, trying to stab the man that had ruined his life. Sonny immediately turned towards his attacker and saw the knife in the air, charging towards him. Without a second thought, his training took center stage and he squeezed the trigger. The bullet entered Hector’s shoulder and caused him to take a step back. He tripped over his own feet and fell backwards, and his head briefly made contact with the counter-top, effectively knocking him out cold.

Sonny walked up to the man that was now laying on the ground and nudged him to make sure he was out. When he was confident that Hector wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, he turned to you and rushed to your side. He placed his hands on either side of your face, lifting your head to look at him. You were pale, you’d lost a lot of blood, and time wasn’t exactly in your favor. You saw Sonny, but it wasn’t clear. Your vision had begin to blur at an alarming rate.

“I’m so sorry, babe, I’m so sorry,” he stuttered as he used the knife to slice the tape. “I came as soon as I could, I should’ve- I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re here now,” you whispered as you watched him remove the rest of the tape. His shaky hands were now covered in both yours and Hector’s blood as he struggled to get a grip on the last piece.

“I’m gonna get you some help, I’ve got back-up on their way.” He removed the last piece of tape and returned to look at you. His hands lightly grazed your abdomen trying to assess the situation. You weren’t going to last much longer, but he wasn’t going to move you. In his mind he’d already made one mistake, not getting to you soon enough. He wasn’t going to aid in your demise, it would be the death of both you. He whispered I love you’s as he waited to hear any sign of back-up making its way down the hallway.

Steps began behind him and he turned around quickly, “it’s about time, it took you guys-” An unexpected blow hit him and slammed him against the wall. Hector Beckett stood in front of you, no longer focused on you. This was going to end, now. He landed another blow to Sonny’s cheek and threw him onto the floor.Your blurred boyfriend laid on the ground trying to push off the man blowing punches to any part of his body that could be reached. Each hit causing the air to expel out of his lungs against his control.

You sat in the chair, unsure of what to do. If you moved, you’d bleed out faster, but if you didn’t, Hector could win. You took a few moments and looked around the room and listened in for the back-up, but there was no sound other than Sonny gasping for air. Your sight landed on the table, Sonny’s gun sitting where he left it. You took a deep breath and gasped when you felt your muscles expand around your wound. You shook off the pain and stood up, reaching for the gun on the table.

You held the gun noticing how heavy it felt. You’d never held a gun before, let alone shoot one. Hell, you couldn’t even tell if the safety was off. But what you did know, was that neither you nor Sonny were going to die today. You wrapped both of your hands tightly around the base and allowed your forefinger to find the trigger.

“Get off of him,” your voice quivered.

“Or what? You’re gonna shoot me?”

You knew you were weak and you didn’t have time to waste. You squeezed the trigger, forcing your eyes open to watch Hector Beckett fall backwards yet again. He grasped his abdomen, before trying to stand up. You squeezed the trigger once more, this time stopping him in his tracks and collapsing to the floor.

You stayed cemented in place, feeling a numbness take over your body as Sonny rushed to your side.

“Hey, hey, (Y/N), can you put the gun down for me? Doll, give me the gun.” He waited for you to look him in the eyes before nodding and removing your finger from the trigger and handing over the gun. He immediately unloaded the gun and placed it on the floor, before finding the wound on your stomach to apply pressure. “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” he repeated to you over and over to not only convince you but himself as well.

The team began to rush into your apartment after hearing the shots, immediately checking Hector’s body for any signs of life. With a shake of the officers head, you felt the blood drain from your body. He was dead, you just took the life of a human being. The room began to fade as you reached towards Sonny’s hands on your stomach and fell to your knees.

“Sonny, I don’t-“ you coughed watching the blood pool around his hands. “I don’t feel so good.” You watched as Sonny’s figure above you began to fade more and more as the seconds passed.

“I need a medic in here now!” Sonny screamed to the officers that had herded into your apartment. “Stay with me, don’t close your eyes!”

You hadn’t intended on giving up this easily, but with every blink you felt your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Perhaps, this was your time to go. You’d saved Sonny and that’s all that mattered. The pain hadn’t faded, but you weren’t scared anymore. You felt the sense of calm rush over your body, similar to that of a much needed sleep, and looked at Sonny one last time before you allowed your eyes to close.

You were placed onto a stretcher and quickly brought out into the lobby and toward the ambulance that was waiting for this exact situation. Sonny hadn’t been more than a step away the entire path towards the ambulance. Olivia watched on as you loaded into the ambulance.

“Maybe this is finally enough to lock him up,” Sonny spat as he stepped into the ambulance. Olivia didn’t take it personally, knowing all too well that this was an emotional time for everyone.

The day Olivia had to inform the squad there wasn’t sufficient evidence to put Hector Beckett was one of the hardest of her career. She held onto the necklace draped around her neck, thinking about the situation she’d bee placed in. Perhaps God works in mysterious ways. Just because they couldn’t put him behind bars, doesn’t mean he didn’t eventually get what was coming to him.

Sonny felt the same way, but he’d never say it out loud. He only sat silently in the corner of the ambulance, allowing his mind to slip to the thought that if somehow he’d been able to find one more piece of solid evidence, if he’d done his job right, he wouldn’t be grasping your somewhat lifeless hand. His ears wouldn’t be ringing due to the shrill sirens blasting their way through the streets and he wouldn’t be looking down at your unconscious body through misty eyes praying that you’d make it out of this alive.

Request // All Dominick ‘Sonny’ Carisi Jr. Content // Masterlist

Tag List - Tags are listed on the original posts only.

[serpent-jugheadjones]

Dog Days - Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Jughead Jones x Doctor!Reader

Description: Riverdale is facing dark times. Jughead has to choose between two paths. Will Y/N affect his decision?

Warnings: Fred’s current situation in the season finale and alcohol. Spoiler alert if you haven’t watched season 2 trailers yet.

Word count: 3038

A/N: These trailers are killing me with anticipation. I know Archie was the one to take Fred to the hospital, but that doesn’t make sense to me, so I wrote as if he arrived in an ambulance. Had to make the reader sort of a genius since I wanted it to be legal and not to big of an age gap.

GSW stands for Gun Shot Wound, BPR for Beats Per Minute and Breaths Per Minute, BP for Blood Pressure, OR for Operating Room, Y/L/C/H for Your Length and Color Hair, Y/B/M/D for Your Birth Date and Month. My EMS report may be completely wrong for a real one so if you are a doctor feel free to correct me.

I know I was supposed to post a new part for the Partner Revealed, but I couldn’t help write this one. Hope you forgive me!

Five seconds is as much time as the doctors have to breath in and out to clear their minds before the EMT pulls out the gurney and behind it comes a ginger boy, with a red stained cast and varsity jacket. “Robbery gone wrong at Pop’s. Patient Fred Andrews, male, GSW to the abdomen, no exit wound, patient is unconscious, pulse 66 bpr, BP 140 over 80, respirations at 19 bpm. ETA 6 minutes after call, we have an 18 gauge IV and controlled bleeding.” In 30 seconds the paramedic gives them the report already taking the man to the closest trauma room available. “Is my dad gonna be ok?”, the boy asks desperately standing at the edge of the door where his father lays motionless. “We’ll do everything we can.”, Y/N answers him calmly. “Nurse. Take ...” She looks at the boy waiting for his name. “Archie.”, he replies. “Archie to the waiting room please.” She rushes in to check Fred’s wound. “I need an X-ray and two bags of O-. Page Dr. Stone and book OR 2.”, the ER doctor instructs Y/N.

Jughead, Betty and Veronica arrive at the hospital not too long after Fred is taken into surgery. They spot Archie in a chair at the reception, looking helpless and unbalanced. His expression softens at the sight of his friends running to hug him all at once. Jug’s arms around them all, staying like that for a short while before they rest. “What happened?”, Jughead asks tenderly, sitting down next to his friend. “We were at Pop’s. I was in the bathroom and heard noises, when I came out, there was this man, wearing this hood, with a gun at Pop Tate and then he pointed it at my dad and fired. Then he ... “, an incredibly distressed Archie answers. “Then he what?” His girlfriend looks hopeless. “He ran.”, he finishes his sentence distractedly. Jug reckons Arch could be keeping something from them by the way he spoke.

This is the worst possible time for Jughead to be worrying about his relationship with Betty. However, so much has happened in less than 24 hours that he barely had time to process it. They left the Jubilee in awe, ready to show how much they love each other. Instead, what could have been a perfect night was spent arguing over a family issue. It drove him mad how much of a hypocrite his girlfriend can be. He almost wanted to take back what he confessed to her earlier.

When Jug got the call from Archie, he was still wearing the source of the problem. Betty had to remind him that showing up at the hospital with a Serpents’ jacket right after his best friend’s dad had just been shot wasn’t a smart idea. He knew that. Nevertheless, he was being torn apart. That snake embroidery was always a reason for confrontations with his father. In spite of that, the second his fingers touched the cold material and he first slid it on, Jughead felt at peace, safe. Like he finally belonged and ultimately understood his dad.

His girlfriend, if he can still call her that, is accommodated next to an incredibly tense Veronica, not even looking at his direction. Right now there’s nothing he can do to fix that, and, quite honestly, he doesn’t know if it’s worth trying. What he can and wants to do is help his ‘brother’ in any and every way he can. “Arch. Can we talk privately?” He points at the empty hallway and the red-haired boy follows him. “What is it, Jug?”, he asks, still looking at the reception, just in case someone comes out with some information. “For a moment, it looked like you were about to say something, about the hood guy, and reconsidered.”, Jughead states. “Really?” Archie fails at sounding convincing, certainly because he’s too tired to properly pretend. “Part of what makes you so endearing is your utter lack of a poker face.”, Jughead tells him in a sensible way. Archie stares at him wonderingly. “You have to stop taking the weight of the world by yourself, pal. You are not alone, Archie.” He shows himself with both hands from top to bottom in a very dramatic way, then the waiting room full of his friends and their parents. Jug knows he’s not one to say, as he for months lived inside the school’s storage closet instead of asking for help. Though, after his father was wrongfully arrested, it was all of them together who made it right and he started to rethink his ways. There’s nothing he wants more than to make that happen for his friend.

Archie takes his time to answer. “What if this wasn’t just a random thief? I know Clifford wasn’t happy with my dad working at the Drive-In land. He did everything in his power to stop the construction. What if Mr. Blossom ACTUALLY did everything to terminate it?”, he blurts out without barely breathing between words, releasing some of his build up stress as he tells out loud the theory that’s been keeping his mind unsettled. “He was a powerful man, no denying that. Still, I doubt Cliff could be doing anything from the grave. Although, if you’re telling me it looked staged, then it’s paramount we find out who’s pulling the strings.” Jughead assures him that he has his back, no matter what. Before they can elaborate an opinion, Sheriff Keller arrives to question Archibald. They all give them privacy. Jug figured this would be a good time to talk to Betty, yet she ignores him calling out for her and leaves to the cafeteria with Ronnie.

After long tedious, yet uneasy waiting hours, the surgeon and nurses come out of the hallway. Archie immediately stands up and the man signs with his hand he’ll soon speak to them. First he stops at the reception desk in the waiting room, giving Fred’s chart and further instructions to a girl who looks too young to be in scrubs, in Jug’s opinion. She removes her bouffant cap to reveal a Y/L/H/C and makes eye contact with Jughead, who looks away quickly, embarrassed, feeling his face get warm and red. Reason tells him it’s immoral to blush from looking at a girl he doesn’t even know while having a girlfriend - and being at the hospital with his best friend’s dad just out of surgery makes it ten times worse. Truth is he just can’t help it.

The man introduces himself as Dr. Stone, the general surgeon who operated on Mr. Andrews. He calmly and rationally explains they managed to remove the bullet and cease the bleeding. Then he tells Archie his dad is being taken to the ICU and he’ll soon be able to see him. Despite that, Fred’s still intubated and they don’t know how long it will be until he wakes up, considering the bullet hit a vital organ. In his opinion, though, it could’ve been a lot worse. All they heard was ‘He’s alive’. Arch releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. “I’m gonna stay with my dad. Can you let Ronnie know she can go home?”, the ginger boy covered in his own father’s blood cries out. “Sure. Listen, he’s gonna be fine, Archie. I’ll be back tomorrow morning so you can change and rest.” Jughead hugs his friend once more, tighter this time. He’s not big on PDA or physical contact in general, although he truly wants to express how much he cares.

Jughead walks out of the hospital, feeling the icy air cool his face. He closes his eyes, but that doesn’t stop his mind from going a thousand miles per hour. The beanie-clad boy is immensely solaced that Fred is in his way to recovery. Regardless, there is still a long way to go until it’s all put right and the dog days end. After all the hours awake, caffeine is needed. Unfortunately, his usual place for a hit is not an option. He spots a small food truck next to the parking lot. The largest cup they had still doesn’t fit his needs, but it will do. While he’s waiting for his drink, he texts Veronica as Archie asked. Jug recognises the girl sitting in one of the benches. Tiny droplets of water from the drizzle glow red and blue on top of her noteworthy hair when the ambulance lights shine.

He can’t help gazing at the girl who may have just saved Fred’s life. Something about her attracts Jughead like a magnet. “People complain about hospital food. But the coffee... is to die for.”, she remarks ironically, taking a sip from her large travel cup of coffee. Jughead takes a few seconds to realize she spoke to him, as he was standing behind her, confident he was safe from being spotted. He realizes she’s very aware of him staring. “Considering the work hours, that’s essential. Mind if I sit?”, he asks. She shakes her head in agreement and scoots over to give him more space. “Jughead Jones the Third.” He extends her a hand. “Y/N Y/L/N... the first.” She firmly and steadily shakes it.

She doesn’t look mad about him glaring. Intrigued is more like it. “You’re part of the surgical team who operated on Fred Andrews, right?”, he asks. “Technically, I’m not supposed to disclose it to non-family members. But you did see me with Dr. Stone.” She doesn’t break eye contact, and even in the low lighting he can see her beautiful Y/E/C iris, deep like a galaxy, as if a whole universe resided in it. “I just wanted to thank you. You’re part of the reason he’s still alive.” Jughead bites the inside of his cheeks trying to remain composed. “I’m just an intern.” Her words contradict her smile, as if no one has ever appreciated all the effort she puts into saving people’s lives. Y/N’s pager beeps. “Duty calls.” The girl gets up and swallows the rest of her coffee in one sip. “Is that for Fred?”, Jug asks anguished, wondering if something could’ve gone wrong. “I do have other patients, Mr. Jones.”, she replies. “Please. Call me Jughead.”, he says. “See you around, Jughead.”, Y/N speaks louder as she’s already walking away.

“Juggy?” He hears Betty calling out for him seconds after Y/N left, exactly the same way she did back at the trailer. For the first time, that annoys him. Jughead feels he’s being treated like a child and a possession. None of them have the energy to deal with their situation at the moment. She offers him a ride home, which he denies saying he needs to clear his mind. The blonde girl tried to peck his lips but he turns his face and she lands a soft kiss on his cheek. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”, he guarantees and leaves.

He still has the spare key Fred gave him when he moved in. Entering the empty house feels weird. Jughead climbs the stairs to the room he used to share with Archie to pack him some clean clothes and essentials. Practicality dictates he should spend the night there, as he has to talk to Betty before going to the hospital the next morning. On second thought, the place doesn’t feel like home anymore and the silence is driving him mad.

Jug crosses Riverdale’s train tracks towards the south, carrying the northside mess with him inside Archie’s Bulldog football bag. Sunnyside’s sign gives him comfort for the first time in a really long while. He gets inside his dad’s trailer, rests the bag on the kitchen table and throws himself at the couch, dog-tired. Still his brain doesn’t want to fall asleep. He stares at the leather jacket carefully placed at the back of the chair. It has a strong effect on him, like it’s seducing him. He gives in to temptation and puts it on again. Just as the first time, he feels sheltered and powerful. That can only lead him one place at this hour.

The red doors loosely remind him of the ones at Pop’s. If not for the bikes parked in front, he could trick himself. Not that he needs to. Somehow, the Whyte Wyrm feels a lot safer in relation to the chock’lit shoppe now. Usually, he'd feel like a pray walking in the bar filled with snakes to retrieve his drunken father. Now he feels nested, welcomed and comfortable. “Glad to see you again, kid”, the man who gave him the jacket pats his back respectfully. “Truth be told we weren’t sure you would.”, the young guy who held Hot Dog’s leash the previous night confesses, preparing to shoot the pool ball. He pockets the 8, ending the game and retrieving the bet money. “Come on, I’ll buy you your first beer.” Jughead just walks with him to the counter, still silent, taking in every detail of the bar he missed the previous times. The pictures on the wall, neon signs shading the dark room, people having fun, the snakes inside the glass tanks, but most surprising of all, Y/N Y/L/N sitting at the counter.

“Aren’t you a little young to be in a bar?” He’s amazed and a little scared as once again she addresses him facing the other way. “Do you have eyes in your back?” He sits down on the empty stool next to her and the young serpent winks at him with a smirk. Jughead widens his eyes to him, wordlessly telling him to scram. “Surgeon skills, I have to be aware of at least 5 other people in the OR while keeping my eyes on the patient.”, she explains, shifting her stool towards him. “Impressive. And I am.”, he says, sipping his cold beer, still not sure the glory everyone sees in it. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” She shows him her driver's license, Y/B/M/D 2000. “How are you a doctor if you’re still 17?”, he asks. “Skipped high school. I have an eidetic memory, didn’t wanna waste four perfectly good years of a very short life in hell, so I just got my GED and got into Med school.”, she says like it’s not a big deal. “Doctor Strange much?” He wonders if she’ll even get the reference. “Wouldn’t that be awesome?” Y/N bumps the rim of her bottle to Jughead’s.

A couple of beers in and Jughead is already tipsy, although unable to forget the messed-up things that have been happening in a row. “What do you think happened?”, he asks Y/N in relation to the Pop’s shooting. “Robbery gone wrong. I haven’t given it much thought to be honest.” Y/N stands up and grabs Jughead’s hand making him come with her. “How could you not have thought about it?”, he asks, simply letting her guide him. “I’m a doctor, Jughead. I have to think about charts and keeping my patients alive. I leave detecting to the Sheriff.” Y/N rests her beer bottle in the corner of the pool table. “Pardon me if I don’t trust the police.”, he says, still confused as to why they got up. “You’re one of the kids who solved the Jason Blossom murder case, wouldn’t expect anything else.” She starts setting the balls inside the triangle. “Not in the least. Found it quite impressive actually. I’m all for justice. It’s just that I left a 16-hour shift, the only thing I want to do is drink and play.” She grabs two cue sticks and hands one out to Jughead. “Come on. If I win, you buy me a drink; if you win, you buy me a drink.”, she says playfully. “Fair game you got going, huh?” Jug starts chalking his stick to start the game.

Surprisingly, he’s pretty good at it. Not only for his first time playing, but being drunk while doing it. “Dr. Y/N/N. You’re not going easy on our boy here, are you?”, one of the serpents says, leaning on the table. “Are you accusing me of cheating, Franky?”, she tells him. “Maybe you could let him win so we can get out of here.”, the young southsider suggests. The boy places his hands on either side of her, pinning her to the table. Jughead watches furiously but unable to act. He wants to punch him but he’s one of them now and can’t just go around hitting the guys.“In your dreams.” She pushes him away and grabs Jug’s hand once more taking control. As they leave the bar, he realizes how dizzy he is. But Y/N is steady enough to hold him upright.

They walk past the gates of Sunnyside trailer park. Jughead is leaning in Y/N for support. She leads him and herself towards his trailer according to Jug’s direction. After they walk around the same place twice, she declares them lost and Jughead unfit to guide. Half an hour of that wandering through the trailer park passes until they finally arrive at the improvised porch of Y/N’s trailer. She drops an almost unconscious Jughead on her bed, pulling his jacket off with a lot of difficulty, as he wanted to keep it on, covering him with a blanket after untying his shoes. Y/N fills a glass of water and takes some ibuprofen to her bedside desk along with a note instructing Jughead to close the trailer door when he leaves and drop the key in the plant at the bottom of the porch stairs. Y/N watches the boy sleeping in her bed. He looks serene, unlike when he’s awake. She grabs a blanket for herself to sleep in the couch.

[peterparkerschurro]

Caught

                                                                                                                              Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Summary: Peter and reader decide to spend the weekend at the compound since most of the team (including her father) are out on a mission. But what happens when the two are caught in action by two super soldiers?

Warnings: Slightly smutty (doesn’t go all the way though, just hints of)

Word count: 1,881

A/N: So this is my first imagine on Tumblr. I will be posting who I’m accepting requests for tomorrow. I have worked on this one for a couple of days after deciding to finally open an imagines blog. I’m thinking of making a part 2 where Tony find out in some awkward-funny way. I hope you enjoy and feedback is always accepted happily.

(gif not mine)

Our lips slowly moved in sync, his fingers creating random patterns on my waist and thighs and mine tangled in his hair. Dangerously by Charlie Puth was blaring through my room’s speakers. Peter was sitting against my bed’s headboard with me straddling his waist.

It was a Friday and school has ended a couple of hours ago. Me and Peter usually hang out at his house on Fridays after school, but most of the team (including my dad) are out on a mission and won’t come back until Sunday morning so I suggested we’ll go to the compound for the weekend.

After greeting the guys that stayed behind and a light snack we practically ran to my room. We weren’t able to do this for over three weeks due to school, training, missions, annoying friends and overbearing family. So saying we were eager to finally be with each other was an understatement.

Everyone were spread around the compound doing whatever; Steve and Bucky were in the training room practicing a few new combat techniques, Bruce was in the lab with Thor keeping him company, Vision was in the kitchen trying to learn how to cook some new stuff I suggested.

And Peter and I, well we were in my room making out.

“Y/N” he moaned out as I started down his jaw and neck.

“Mhm?” my response was muffled by his skin and he whimpered at the vibration.

Peter’s eyes were closed with the back of his head pressed against the headboard as he relished the feeling of my lips gently sucking and biting his collarbone.

It was hard for him to concentrate and he barely muttered a sentence out. “S-S-Someone can c-co-” he breathed out a shaky breath when I bit his earlobe. “S-Someone can co-come in.”

“No one will come in.” I whispered in his ear, licking the outside of it right after.

I tried to calm him down and get him off the subject. Everyone were doing their own thing, no one will be interested in a couple of teenagers.

“H-How can you b-be s-so su-” “I’m sure,” I stopped my previous acts and sat straight once again, face to face with his flustered face.

“And now…” I leaned down and kissed those beautiful lips of his.

“May we please…” Another kiss.

“Go back…” A kiss and a roll of the hips.

“To what..” Another kiss.

“We were…” Another grind.

“Doing…” Both.

“Before.” I rolled my hips one more time while taking my shirt off. Peter groaned and immediately flipped us over, my head on the pillow and his body between my legs.

“You’re driving me crazy, ya know?” he said, eyes dark and full of lust and adoration, and I swear I heard a growl emitting from his throat.

“At your service, 24/7.” I giggled.

Right after the words passed my lips, Peter attacked them.                                                                                                                              

𝄖𝄖𝄖

Steve and Bucky had just finished training and decided to organize a movie night with the team members who stayed in the compound - maybe even catch up on some movies they haven’t seen yet.

Vision and Thor already said they’ll be there, Bruce said he’ll come after he’s finished with his work. They both were now on their way to ask Y/N and Peter, who said they will be studying in Y/N’s room.

“You do know that they’ll make us watch the rest of Star Wars, right?” Bucky told his friend while waiting for the elevator. “What? Didn’t you like it?” Steve, asked, amused.

“Oh, no, I liked the movie. I’m just not a fan of both of them reciting the entire movie next to me.” He replied, getting into the elevator.

The two super soldiers laughed about the young avengers when the door opened to Y/N’s floor.

Being Stark’s daughter herself, she was given an entire floor all to herself.

In that floor she has a lab of her own, a study, two studios - one for her dancing and one for her art, a special training area fit especially for her, two bedrooms (don’t ask why), a kitchen and living area which she never uses due to her always being in the shared living area with everyone else.

Y/N insisted against having her own floor, saying she doesn’t need any special treatment. But Tony wouldn’t budge, wanting to give his daughter the best and only the best.

Music was blaring through the whole floor, and if the two weren’t super soldiers they wouldn’t have been able to hear themselves thinking.

They were getting closer to the girl’s bedroom door.

Steve was talking as Bucky reached out to open the door, “Hey Y/N, you two wanna join us to-”

𝄖𝄖𝄖

By now, both Peter and I were both half naked, fighting for dominance. One minute he was on top with my hands in his grip above my head, and the other I was straddling him doing anything to make him flustered.

“Peter” I moaned out as the boy kissed his way up my stomach and met my lips once more. “All that and I didn’t take your shorts off.” He whispered against my lips, clearly smirking. “Stop being so cocky. You know I can get you in the exact same state without even taking our pants, shirts-” I flipped us over, “or shoes off.” “And I’m the cocky one?” “Oh shut up.”

Our lips connected again, tongues tangled, savouring the other’s taste.

Peter’s hands were on my hips, moving them in rhythm. I wasn't satisfied though. I wanted him to be as confident with me as possible, just like he was just a couple of minutes before.

I grabbed both of his hands and pushed it down roughly. He squeezed my butt and I let out a groan into his lips, making him smirk into the kiss.

With one hand resting next to his head to prop me up, I let my free hand roam down his chest and onto the dent still growing in his pants. “Y/N.” He moaned out. I was sure I finally won when he abruptly flipped us over, pinning both of my wrists above my head and smirked down at me, eyes dark and full of lust. “Not this time sweetheart.” He said and mashed our lips together.

I giggled and pushed my hips against his, eager to finally get what we both want and need when,

“HOLY SHIT!!”

Me and Peter flew apart, causing him to fall on the ground with a grunt. I turned to the door and there stood the two super soldiers with their eyes wide and mouths agape, shock evident on their face.

“What the fuck guys?!! Why don’t you knock?!!!” I yelled at them, looking for something to cover my upper body.

“We did knock!” Steve stated, clearly freaking out.

“Well we didn’t hear it!” I retorted, freaking out just as much.

“Well I wonder why,” Bucky started, trying to muffle his laughs, “You were to busy sucking each other’s faces.”

“We didn’t suck each other’s faces.” Peter stood up going to cover my body and handing me his shirt.

“Oh no? So what were you doing, hah?”

“Look, just-” I started, putting Peter’s shirt on and coming to stand before the two with my hands in front of me, “Just- please don’t tell my dad, please.”

I can’t have my dad finding out about my relationship with Peter. He will freak out. Not only is his only daughter, his precious girl dating someone. But is dating a superhero. And not any superhero, but Spiderman, who he recruited, who he trust, who he told to stay away from me.

He will kill us both. Or worse.

“Y/N, how long has this been going on?” Steve asked, his usual soft voice back. “Um… I-uh” I looked back at Peter who looked at me with an assuring look and nodded. Maybe it is time to tell someone in this house. Maybe it will even make things easier. And my dad doesn’t have to know, everyone in this facility has kept a secret from him at some point or another. “ Um… A-about nine-ten months.”

“Pshh,” Bucky chuckled, “I’m impressed. Didn’t know you were this good at keeping secrets.” “Well I was trained by a spy.”

I turned to Steve. “Please, I can’t have my father finding out. He will kill us and won’t allow us to see each other again. I don’t want that to happen. I love him.” I said, whispering the last part, knowing all three will hear it. I looked back at the boy I love and weakly smiled at him. He smiled back, “And I love her.”

Steve sighed looking between the three of us, then back at me.

“You have to tell him at some point, you know that, right?” “And I will-” I answered quickly, “We will,” I continued, gesturing back to Peter (who was still on my bed), “But not right now. Please Steve.” I begged, looking up at him with puppy eyes which I know he can’t resist.

He was silent for a couple more seconds, looking at me with a serious face. But then a soft smile grew on his face and a chuckle left his lips. “Okay, okay. But-” “Yay!! Thank you thank you thank you!!” I interrupted, jumping up and down and hugging both of them.

I was so relieved. Not only will our secret be kept from my dad, but we now have someone to help us incase we want to sneak around or we get caught and need back up.

“Wait, wait,” He chuckled. I let go of them and stepped back, Peter now at my side. “On one condition.”

“Yeah yeah, anything.” “Just name it and we’ll do it.” Me and Peter finished each other, excited.

“No more of this.”

“Wait, o-of what?”

Peter and I looked at each other, confused while Bucky was trying not to laugh his ass off.

“Of this. What you just did.” Steve responded pointing between us both, clearly embarrassed.

“WHAT?! I-” “Y/N.” Steve interrupted sternly. “Uh…” I turn my head to Peter. He pouted his lips and frowned his eyebrows, but had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Yeah, no way that’s happening. I got the point and agreed to Steve’s conditions, trying to hide my smirk.

“And, you two need to come down and watch movies with the team.” Steve continued. “T-that’s two conditions.” Peter pointed out. “I don’t care, you’re coming.” He laughed, leaving my room.

Bucky stayed behind, still chuckling. “You two know you won’t stop hearing about this, right? You just entered a world full of teasing.” He left the room laughing even harder. Peter got dressed and we followed, fingers laced.

“Hey Y/N?” Peter spoke up as we walked through the living area of my floor. “Hmm?” “Has this song been playing on repeat this whole time?” “Um... Yeah, I think so. Why?” “Don’t you have any other songs?” “Well, all my other songs are a bit edgy. I mean would you rather listen to ‘Car Radio’ instead?”

Peter chuckled and kissed my cheek. “I love you so much.” “I love you too.”

He leaned in to me ear and whispered, “But from now on, my place.”

[doubledaffy]

January, 2017. Daisy and I went to Japan to visit Kevin and Shoko. I wrote a lot about it and made this little video. XO.

1-5-17 Thursday

Kyushu island

Hippo Bakery

Beach walk. Bread. Blendy Stick. Laundry mat. Itoshima - wife and husband. I forgot my back pack on the beach it so happens. Moto guys. Daisy thought Japanese surfers were big water turkeys. Ancient pine forest. Karatsu burger. I hated. Aka egg and cheese. Kagamiyama mountain. Body move move. Karatsu castle. Ripped the cube into traffic towards Akasaka station to meet Tsuyoshi. (We got the laundry while I sat in the car). AirBnB guy. Boom box grocery store. Dars. Wasabi potato sticks. Crying toddler. Google translate sucks. Shoko made hot pot meal. Nummy. Kevin whipped his chocolate pops.

Fun fact. The man who invented Tenga, has the Guinness world record for longest JO. How fitting.

Gross airbnb hair on comforter and towel. Do not want to stay there. Wasting more money. :(

1-6-17 Friday

Big dry heave last night. Woke up at 1am thinking "oh boy, something's going on. Whoops!" Ran to the bathroom, felt the heat rise up my body. Was it the broth? The chicken? The Sake? I placed my hands upon the electronically heated seat of the Japanese washlet and began to dry heave. No barf. I felt like Barfing. But nope. My body wouldn't let me. I felt better though and went back to bed. Daisy told me in the AM that they made the HotPot with pork broth, thought of me, and then decided not to tell me. Maybe it was that. Who cares. I feel better today. Kev made Spanish French toast (torijas) for us. It was lovely. Daisy said the shower she took was the best she's ever taken. That's because there's a huge window looking out in the the sea. It's magic. Daisy and went to 7-11. Big presence here. Kev fully loves it. Apparently they make great stuff and the ATM is reliable. Located right next to the "Titty mags" as Kev explained. I took out Shoko's penny board and we stopped at HIPPO tiny surf bakery and got some snacks for the house. No salty bread. We showed up too late. I left the penny board outside and no one stole it! --- Shoko drove us to a special lunch and snack spot. Snack spot was very Japanese and cute and had weird dessert stuff. Lunch spot was closed at 3pm! Great shoe horn though. I Bought the best spoon ever. White metal. Feels like stone. Expensive ceramic gift shops. Hotto motto dance and curb eat. Sake factory great traditional architecture. Drove to muji and inkcube in the mall. Went nuts at Muji. And stuff. Daisy neck hurt. Back home. Cream soup. Organize pack. Test journals and pens out. Daisy in bed by 9. I stay up and eat cream soup and some dars. White chocolate. Do some photos and stuff. Kev teaches himself Japanese on laptop then plays StarDewValley.

1-7-17 Saturday

Woke up early. Beach walk. Big shell find. Hippo. Too early for SheoPan! 9:30 is the best time. Come back. Blendy stick with Scones and Cream Soup left over. Computer time clicky and and work / taxes shit. Shower ocean view. Skate to Hippo at 9:30. got the SheoPan. Groin pull fall on the way back. Saw Osky and the Corgy photo shoot. Kev takes us to train. I dropped 40 on the train card by mistake. Taking photos on the train is illegal, Kevin explains. Photo sound on iPhone mandatory. Unpack at AirBnb. Then Bounce to Lunch at crazy under ground mall. Green noodle soup. So many people. So many things. So many structures. So much lighting. So much movement. No white people. Babies dressing nicely. Cool gear. Women in mens wool long straight overcoats. Tan and black. Big buttons and ties. Underground mall culture. Walk tour through FuK with Kev. Side of building greenery stair case hike to views. Photo shoot women and man.  Stop at Julette’s letters. Got a CLIP and stuff. Wooden baby toys nice. Japanese Love Pop and cool pencil, etc. Walk to DONUT spot. Lots of walking. Donut spot in crazy OTHER mall under ground. Madness. Hot down there. Amazing donuts. Weird that in a mall though, but maybe that’s great. Mall Mall Mall. Energy to go to MUJI. Big walk again. Lots of stores and big streets. Mega complex. Water light projector show. Muju is calming. Hot in there. Got more shit. Wanted everything and a new house to decorate. Book for Ben. Meet up with Shoko at Hippo and crazy recycling bear. Walk to restaurant called CHIKEN. Allow smoking, but place is cool and hip and nice. Light beer life. Moscow mule. Was off, from walking and hunger. Kev big adventurous eater. Raw Chicken - SASHIMI. Crazy. Got a little buzzed and let go. Crazy smokey chicken dish. Tasty food overall. Walk back in the Rain. LAWSON Dars and purple gummy candy and Crunky! Shoko peeled off before the AirBnB after party. Incense at the Airbnb made it smell better. Muji lights. 1/4 xanax or whatever to sleep. Pushed beds together with D and passed out.

1-8-17 Sunday

Woke up. Jon Bellion hate listen. Shower in tiny shower. Trying to meet with Kev at Eggs and Things. Big American style food. Just love the American food. Not so much THAT< I love knowing what I’m eating because I have a special little diet that doesn’t really include meat or fish or pork or anything, and here in Japan that’s hard. Kev showed up. After Eats and Things we popped on the train(s) to Dazaifu - a very old (16th century) Shrine (or could be a temple, hard to remember which is which) about 1hr on the localish trains. People on the trains sleep a lot. It’s nice. Also, no one is loud. Very quiet and respectful. Trains are on time and the stations are clean. One train we took was just the loveliest color scheme - light green/blue and red. V. calming. Tons of people in the terminals at times. Felt like Grand Central Terminal. If I ever felt like wanting to go to a Bigger Japanese city, nope - this amount of people is fine. Dazaifu is amazing. Tiny village full of a billion people swarming up to see the shrine, but it was oddly peaceful because no one is rude and it’s generally quiet. Tiny shops and people cooking meat sticks and shit on the sides on the way up. At the end, before the gate, there was a naturally formed single file line just to take a pic with the whacky animal statue. Formed by the people in a simple organized way. Not like the monster americans at Disney. Just a nice simple civilized line. Inside, we had to do a special hand and mouth wash routine to cleanse ourselves a the water zone. I touched my lips to the water bucket stick because it’s hard to know the customs in other countries. A million Japanese people cycling through there each day, and Jeff touches his lips to the community water bucket. We hiked up into the woods and saw an amusement park on the other side which seemed weird being so close to a shine or whatever. We got soft meatless sweet pucks and sat at a low table. Very relaxing stroll. Felt bad that Kev was in the Glum zone not knowing if his relationship is in the pits. Train back Komono woman sleeping among all the other sleeping Japanese people. Kev bounced, had to work and wanted to be home for the night. We wish we could all just stay at the house. Going back to the AirBnB and not having family dinner with the homie was bumming us out. I was excited to take the reins and figure out where to go in the new city. Apple Maps is great for walking directions on this trip. Great UI. Google Maps looks like garbage. Daisy found a place that has burgers and veggy options called Brooklyn Parlor. No shame in just going to a cool hip place that I know I can get something I like. The thing is, the Japanese food I have eaten is amazing. But when you’re without your Japanese speaking friends, it’s very hard to make sure you aren’t eating shell fish or meat. We saw some other cool small restaurants we’d thought looked nice on the walk. 7-11 stop after dinner to get snacks. The Titty Rags had censorship thingies on the genitals and they also had tape on the pages so you couldn’t open em. Old man barfing at the bus stop, but overall we’re getting a friendly vibe from the city. Plans to watch Finding Dori on the lappy, but might just crash. Trying to plan what to do tomorrow with the rental car with Kev. Hard to plan sometimes! We’re living out of a backpack now because of the AirBnB and would like to re-up / swap out our gear.

(First horn sound we’ve heard here. Wow. Just now as I was typing this entry, just goes to show you, why honk, when you can be patient and kind?)  

1-9-17 Monday

Giants

Eggs and things iced coffee?

Train to Kevin's

Rental car madness - couldn’t find Nissan. Goosechase.

Senyoji temple - Magic. Soft. Quiet. Milltion Monks on hill. Old artifacts. Incense. Chanting on Mic.

Everyone backs their car in to the parking spot.

Ichiran Noodle Factory - ticket system. Rice and Egg and cold Mushrooms. Put the plate on the sound thingy and it makes a big sound all across the restaurant signifying that you want your next little order.

Tea Garden Madness - Light up trees across this huge empty yard with pop music blasting from a ton of speakers hidden all over the grounds. I did a BodyMoveMove, naturally.

1-10-17 Tuesday

Tried to go to Hippo today. It’s hard to go there, apparently. Closed on Tuesdays. Whoops! Came back with no pastries, so Kevy Cab hooked up the Pancakes and I took care of the Blendy Sticks. Grabbed the laundry and popped out to the long driving day through windy roads in the beautiful Japanese country side. First we stopped at the big Caldera overlook where a volcano made a blast hole a very long time ago. Then we popped down more windy roads to see the Aso Volcano. It was cloudy, but you could see a massive mountain with a big hole in it smoking underneath sets of ominous clouds. The museum center looked like something out of a Russian Post Apocalypse B movie. Drove to the wrong hot springs, I was getting car sick, so moved up front. The steering wheel is on the right side here, so sitting up front is a treat cuz you feel like you’re just controlling the car with you mind. Finally made it to the real hot springs. It’s a 24hr spot and it’s magical. You pick your favorite little hot spring house for around 1500 Yen (15 bucks). Then you pop in there, shower off, put your coins in the slot thingy that makes hot water blast out of a long tube into a beautiful wooden tub. We would have splurged for the rock tub for an extra dollar. Yup, a dollar for the upgrade. Daisy and I never felt so relaxed. I bought some sheepy slippers at the gift shop and am wearing them now. I also bought a sprite type drink that was about 1/4 size of a glass coke bottle, with a label designed to win design awards. Shoko is now getting car sick, so it’s me and her up front, with her driving. She drives very fast. On the highway she was passing mother fuckers with ease. I was nervous. Grabbed our laundry from the trusty laundry mat (drying only for us). I lay down on the bench while Daisy read Japanese Nylon. I was trying to still my body. Bopped over to the UDON noodle place and got some Tofu Noodle Udon and white rice. It was simply great. Ate at the counter and took some iPhone vids of stuff. At home raging on some 7-11 snacks we got at some point today. 7-11 here is what I want a convenience store to be. It has lots of shit I like and cheap. Daisy in bed now cuz I feel I owe it to myself to document these trips. They’re super important to me and special and I’m lucky to go on them.

1-11-17 Wednesday

Woke up at 8am and popped out to the ocean magic tree zone to dance in public for my BodyMoveMove & Exquisitemovement project. Dancing really gets the heart pumping. Daisy said she wanted to go for a run on the beach but where is she now? Face down in bed, that’s where. I can’t seem to sleep past 8 and I’m loving it. Slid over to Hippo for a pastry run. Scored that ShioPan which is very rare and special, as we all know. Came back and missed the “let’s go” and rushed to get ready. Everyone was making fun of me for being a space cadet on this trip, but I kinda like being loose and spacey when I’m not at the wheel. Most of my life is dictated by me and only me so it’s been really nice that Kev and Shoko are handling everything and being great tour guides. We zap over to Shoko’s parent’s house which is a traditional Japanese magical tiny compound. Garden’s and outbuildings and paths tucked and squeezed into the tiny suburban hillside. They have another house that they open as a cafe and art gallery and everything is as you’d expect a modern day / ancient Japanese house to be. They have a fucking COY POND in the middle of it all with lots of buddies swimming back and forth. Their toilet has a button that lifts and lowers the seat - no touch lifestyle. That sums up the house and how rad it is. We jammed over to a fast food Sushi Roll place that uses a conveyer belt system to deliver your food and you pay per plate. You order on the touch screen and it makes a lot of loud chimes and screams at you, which is the only downside. All this annoyance is overruled by the convenience and novelty. I ate no fish because fish grosses me out and I feel bad for them. They say fish is good for you, but not for me because it’s disgusting and smells like low tide. Your kid isn’t dressed up like he/she is headed to fashion week? Don’t bring them outside then. That’s the rule. Tolls here are very expensive, but the roads, even though I can’t read a god damn word, seem to be great and tight and efficient and clean. Next, we bopped over to the largest bronze Buddah that is laying down. It’s magnificent and peaceful. Snagged a Bodymovemove before going inside and praying at all the little pray stations. Then we got little balls with feathers on them to toss into the tiny buckets but none of us were successful. Guess what? This place is manicured to perfection and has a very hand made feel. Lots of paths into the forest and mini shrines and stuff. Even a tiny Torii Gate you can crawl through. Whoops, sun is setting, so we blast off to another Temple Shrine they’re calling Hay something. It has a lot of stairs and you can see the ocean and whatever. Big hay knot thingy you can pray to. We got gas and stopped at Aeon for food and snacks for gifts. The Nissan March really gets good gas mileage. I can’t find my lens cap, but who cares, I already got the good Bokeh shot on the highway. We’ve been using a “Shared Wallet” System, which is neat. You all put in the same amount of $ at the beginning and when you do group activities you all take out of that. At the end if there’s any left, you split it up. It works well or whatever. Back home Shoko made hot pot - no pork so I don’t need to dry heave over the wash-let again! Beers for everyone but me and desserts and funny convo on the futon and stuff. I took a bath listening to the ocean waves pulse. So nice. That pulsing really does wash away everything bad.

(so that’s it for what I have written. I know we stayed in Japan longer, maybe I wrote the rest of my thoughts in an actual journal? Hard to care to search for it right now. Maybe the video above will do the trick closing that gap. I’m updating this blog right now and it’s 5/11/19 10:07AM)

[rememberstilinski]

better with you || stiles stilinski

word count: 2238

warnings: heated make out session, little swearing

request: hey there :)could you write something where the reader is very shy so she only talks to Scott and stiles around the pack but she has a huge crush on isaac.She tells stiles to ask him for help cause she doesn't know how to talk to him so he practices with her and after a while he suggests to practice kissing with her because he starts to realize that he really likes her and the reader gets so comfortable around him that she doesn't really that she loves him?you can include shy smut if you want c @ephemeral-stilinski

author’s note: so i haven’t written or posted in a couple weeks but i am back! i hope you like this because i’m really happy with how it turned out. thanks to @dumbass-stilinski for proof-reading and fixing my errors as well as @sarcasticallystilinski for also reading this! i’m happy they both liked it! :)

masterlist

Anyone in the McCall pack could tell you that Y/N was a shy girl. She hardly spoke to anyone besides Scott and Stiles. The two boys knew almost everything about their friend. But everyone else couldn't even tell you her birthday. No one really knew why she was so reserved, not even Stiles and Scott.

Even though Y/N was shy, she inhabited a small crush for Isaac Lahey. They'd never had a deep conversation because every time Y/N attempted to start talking to him, she'd stumble over her words or completely forget what they were talking about. Every morning she'd stare down the hall, just admiring the tall boy who had some weird scarf fetish.

He was just drop dead gorgeous. Isaac was just that guy; the one that could make literally any girl swoon. Y/N sighed in admiration as she watched him talk to some guy on the lacrosse team. Behind her, a locker slammed shut, taking her out of her daydreaming. She jumped as the loud sound rang in her ears. “Stiles!” Y/N turned around and scolded her best friend.

“Are you ever going to ask him out?” Stiles sighed, zipping up his backpack and shrugging it onto his shoulder.

Y/N stuttered. “I-I don't know what you're talking about.”

The two began walking down the hallway so they could get to Economics with Coach Finstock. “Scarf boy, Y/N. You're always looking at him, why don't you just ask him out already?”

Stiles looked down at Y/N as they walked. Y/N sighed and looked down at her shoes. “I just…”

“You just what?”

“I've never had a boyfriend.” She mumbled playing with the long necklace that Lydia told her fit the outfit she was wearing perfectly.

Stiles stopped dead in his tracks causing Y/N to look behind her as she realized he stopped walking. “You've n-never ha-had a boyfriend?”

Y/N shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “It's really embarrassing. I've never even been kissed and it's not exactly something I like to share, either.”

“No, no, no. It's not that.” Stiles put his hands on her arms and rubbed up and down in a comforting manner. “It's that I'm surprised. You're absolutely perfect. You're unbelievably smart, you're an amazing friend, trustworthy, hilarious, and absolutely breathtaking.”

“Not even.”

“Don't argue with me on this, Y/N. I mean it when I say you're beautiful.” Stiles grinned.

Y/N smiled softly. “Thanks, Stiles.”

“Tell you what. I'll teach you.” He swung his arm over her shoulder and continued their way to class.

“Teach me what?”

Stiles scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Well, I have some experience when it comes to relationships and you know… smooching. Maybe I could help?”

“So you mean you're going to teach me how to kiss?” Her eyebrows furrowed at the wild offer.

“Only if you want to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” In all honesty, Stiles was hoping, praying that she would accept. For a few months Stiles has been harboring some serious feelings for his best friend. These new feelings towards Y/N just sprung on him.

When Stiles’ view of Y/N changed, he was still working on his ten year plan with Lydia. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't see it working. He doesn't feel that way anymore. The only girl he can see himself with is Y/N. She's the one for him.

Y/N continued thinking about Stiles’ offer. It makes sense. Y/N would have experience with a guy and it could boost her chances with Isaac. She would be more confident in herself. And maybe it would give her closure for the teeny tiny feelings she has for the sarcastic boy.

The girl nodded. “Okay, I'll do it.”

A big smile made its way onto Stiles’ face and hope into his heart. “Great! Let's plan to meet at my place. Is seven okay?”

“Yeah, it's perfect.” The final bell rang just as Y/N and Stiles walked into the classroom and sat in their seats.

The rest of the day went on as normal. Y/N pining over Isaac, but still thinking about Stiles. Stiles admiring about everything Y/N even if what would happen later that night was so she could have a chance with a boy he didn't really care for.

After Y/N went home and did homework, it was a quarter until seven. She made herself look a little more presentable. Y/N pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and fixed her makeup. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her keys from the bowl on the table next to her front door and walking out the door. She got into her car and drove to Stiles’ house.

It didn't take long to get his house considering it was just around the corner. She got out of the car and walked up the driveway and got to the mahogany door. Y/N knocked three times and the door swung open to reveal Stiles himself. He looked breathtaking. The brown hair on the top of his head was messy in a perfect way. It wasn't his usual spikes that went in every which way, but sat flat on his head as if he just got out of the shower. The obvious dampness confirmed it.

Even his attire was simple yet sexy. He wore a black t-shirt that hugged his lean, yet muscular biceps in every amazing way. The grey sweatpants that he usually wore during their movie or study nights hung low on his hips. A small chuckled that erupted from Stiles’ throat took Y/N’s gazing off his body.

Y/N shook her head, snapping out of the daydream. Her Y/E/C eyes met with his honey ones. “Hey.” Y/N said coolly.

“Hey. Come on in.” Stiles opened the door wider giving Y/N a non-verbal invitation to come in. She looked around the house and saw it was spotless as usual.

“Your dad working again?” Y/N asked as she turned to look back at Stiles. He scratched the back of his neck and nodded.

“Yeah. He actually just left, said to say that it would be nice if you came over for dinner sometime.”

Y/N chuckled. “I will.”

Stiles clapped his hands together. “Great. Let's go to my room?” Y/N nodded and followed Stiles down the hall and to his room. The usual board of whatever supernatural occurrence or theory he had was in an organized mess.

The two sat at the foot of Stiles’ bed, Stiles on Y/N’s right. His room was clean just as it always was and his bed was perfectly made. “So…” Stiles trailed off.

Y/N wiped her hands over her leggings to get rid of the clammy feeling. “So, uh, where do you want to start?”

“We can start with kissing if you want.”

“Yeah, that's a good idea.” Y/N nodded.

Stiles scooted closer than they were before. He took her left hand and put it on his shoulder as he snaked his arm around her waist, their chests were now pressed together. Stiles and Y/N could feel their heartbeat speed up and pound against their rib cages.

Before they realized it, Y/N and Stiles’ face and were very close. Their breaths were mingling and as Y/N’s minty breath hit Stiles’ face, it sent shivers down his spine. Hell, the thought of kissing the girl in front of him was enough to make goosebumps appear on his skin and make the hair on the back of his neck stand up straight.

As their lips brushed together, Y/N looked into his eyes and saw the same intensity in Stiles’ eyes that she was sure was in hers. “If you want to stop, just say the word.” Y/N’s heart fluttered as the words fell from his mouth. Without thinking, she closed the very little amount of space between them and took Stiles by surprise.

The soft skin of their lips caressed each other and they could've sworn sparks flew. Y/N had never kissed anyone, but she couldn't imagine that a feeling this euphoric could get any better. The speed of her heartbeat increased by tenfold the moment their lips touched and every single in sync movement made her stomach erupt with butterflies. Any thoughts she had of Isaac completely vanished from her mind. In this moment, all she wanted to do was kiss Stiles.

Stiles’ eyes fluttered shut the moment their lips met. One kiss. Before the moment had come, that was all he wanted. Now that he'd had a taste of what kissing Y/N Y/L/N was like, he was already beginning to crave more. He pulled her closer to his chest, if that was even possible. A groan left his lips and fell into her mouth when Y/N’s fingernails scratched at his scalp. His lips started trailing away from her lips and down her jaw and neck.

A pleasured moan left her perfect mouth and it caused something in Stiles to snap. He pushed her back onto the bed and Y/N didn't stop him. Stiles’ lips found her sweet spot and it drove him crazy to see how it affected her. He started sucking a purple patch right on her pressure point. His right hand intertwined their fingers in a loving manner.

“Stiles.” Y/N whispered his name and all it did was spur on his actions. Stiles moved his lips back up to hers and that was all they did for a few moments. His tongue ran over her bottom lip and she had no hesitation to give him access. When his tongue entered her mouth, it wandered around, memorizing each and every single inch.

Stiles felt himself getting more and more aroused as they kept making intimate contact. Reality of the situation set in and it caused Stiles to pull away. He was risking everything right now and he couldn't lose her.

“Did I do something wrong?” Y/N asked and her chest moved up and down as she tried catching her breath.

“No, no. You-you were perfect. It was me.” Stiles stuttered. He sat back up and pulled away from her completely. Y/N lifted herself up and scooted next to him.

“It was good?” Y/N sounded completely surprised but a smile grew slowly on her face.

“It was amazing, Y/N.” He looked down at his fingers and began playing with them. “Probably the best I've ever had.”

Y/N would've had to have been deaf to not notice the falter in his tone as he spoke. “Well why do you sound so disappointed?”

Stiles stayed quiet for a moment before answering in a small voice. “Because I didn't want to stop.”

“Well then let's keep going.”

He shook his head. “No. That's not what I meant.” Stiles looked away from his fingers and back to the beautiful girl he could feel himself falling past the point of no return for. Her lips were swollen from all the tugging and rushed kissing they'd done. The very defined purple patch was on her neck and he couldn't help but feel hurt that he'd never be the one to always make her look like that.

“What do you mean, Stiles?” Y/N rubbed her arm up and down his bicep as she smiled softly with her head tilted so she could see him better.

“I meant I don't ever want to stop.” The movement of Y/N’s hand stopped and her eyes widened. “I don't ever want to stop kissing you. The way you look now with your swollen lips from my kisses is taking my heart away. And that purple love bite on your neck, I want to leave those all over your body. I'm in love with you, Y/N. I'm so so in love with you.”

“Y-you're in love with me?” It was now Y/N’s turn to stutter. “Stiles Stilinski is in love with me, Y/N Y/L/N?”

“More than anything.” Stiles took her hands in his and smiled. “I know that you have feelings for Isaac, but I'm utterly in love with you. You've always been my best friend, but now you're something different. You're something more and I don't know how to explain it. You make me happy and I'm always happiest when I'm with you. I love you.”

Y/N stayed quiet for many moments as she absorbed everything Stiles had just told her. He was emotionally naked in front of her right now. “Say it again.” She whispered as her hand moved to his face and began stroking his cheek, fingertips running over his beauty marks.

“I love you.”

Y/N smiled and crashed her lips to his. Stiles could feel her smile into the kiss and he sighed through his nose in relief. The kiss was short but sweet and was filled with more love than lust. “What about Isaac?” Stiles asked and the worry was very evident in his face and his voice.

Y/N smirked. “I like it better with you.” Stiles smiled and pushed her back on the bed just as he'd done before. The rest of the night was spent being wrapped up in nothing but love and each other.

[asparklingdiamond]

G A B R I E L

G: What was their first job? 

His first job was actually at helping out at his family’s restaurant. So he’s had experience as waiter, busboy, prep cook, and just about anything else his father had him do. It started out as a non paying job, something his dad wanted him to do to teach him responsibility, and then in high school, he eventually approached his dad about being paid in order to buy a car. He ended up quitting senior year when he got another job. 

A: Who are their exes? Do they still keep in touch?

His most recent ex girlfriend is Winnie Gallagher (fc: Emily Blunt). They dated for five years, then were actually engaged for about a year until she broke up with him because she felt he was more committed to his job than to her. He’s still pretty heart-broken about it, if he’s being perfectly honest, because he truly loved her, but she was right; he always picked his career over their relationship. They recently ran into each other, and she’s moved on– she’s married to someone else, and pregnant with her first baby. Other than that, they don’t really keep in touch; but Gabe wishes nothing but the absolute best for her. 

Clarissa Gupta ( fc: Mindy Kaling); they met their second year in college and became study buddies, which eventually turned into them hooking up on and off for the next couple of years. They eventually lost touch after graduating from college, but a couple of years later, they ran into each other in the city, and ended up catching up over dinner. One thing led to another, and they hooked up. It became a regular thing– they’d text all throughout work and date other people, but they’d meet up at one of their apartments and have crazy hot sex, no strings attached (at least, he thought so). It turned out, Clarissa had feelings for Gabe, and when she admitted it to him, he froze up– which really pissed her off. She ended up leaving his apartment and never came back. He never thought he’d see her again, but one Thanksgiving, his brother Michael brought home his new girlfriend, and who did it turn out to be? Clarissa. It was a big ass, dramatic mess when they realized Gabe was her ex-hookup and she was now dating his brother, but they moved past it, and now she and Michael are happily married, and the Gabe-Clarissa thing is a big joke they talk about at holiday gatherings. 

Stella Tate (fc: Olivia Munn) was his high school girlfriend. She was a year older than him, a senior, when they started dating towards the beginning of his junior year. He’d always had a huge crush on her– she was beautiful and popular, but dated the quarterback the previous year, so he was really surprised when she gave him the time of day, since he wasn’t very popular in that sense. He was known for being a really friendly guy, but he didn’t really do sports, since he worked at the family restaurant. They ended up dating for the rest of the year, but broke up after she graduated, since she’d be going away to college and didn’t want to be in a long distance relationship. While he was hurt, he understood. They never did see each other again, but they’re friends on Facebook now and occasionally comment on each other’s posts, but that’s about as far as their relationship goes anymore. She’s now exclusively dating women.

B: Who is the last person they shared a bed with?

Last person he shared a bed with would be his last hookup. He met her at a bar, and she wanted to go back to his place. When he woke up, she was gone, as was his watch. He does share his bed nightly with his dog, Terror.

R: When’s the last time they had a birthday party? 

When he turned thirty. He actually hates surprise parties, but his family and Winnie ended up conspiring together and planned a big blowout for him. He ended up having a great time, especially since he and Winnie were just at the start of the relationship, and she had put it altogether for him. 

I: In general, are they organized or messy? 

It depends. His work area is always meticulously organized– he labels and bookmarks everything, has files put away neatly, etc. His apartment, while not a complete disaster, is far less organized. It’d definitely more lived in, especially since he owns a dog and they both like playing rough with each other.

E: Are they the happiest they’ve ever been?  

I think the happiest he has been so far was when he was with Winnie. It’s been a couple of years since they broke up, but she still has a bit of a hold on him, despite being with someone else. I think currently, while he seems perfectly content and at peace, he’s pretty lonely and this is why he tends to hook up with random girls he meets. I think it’s also why he’s decided he needs to grow up and settle down, and that’s why he’s agreed to procreate with Sloane.

L: How often do they post on their social media accounts? 

He is the ABSOLUTE worst at social media. He’s the type to post fervently for a couple hours at once, and then you won’t hear from him again for months. He hates Instagram and Facebook– he rarely posts on Instagram, the only posts he has on there are of his dog and his business. He avoids FB because of family and friends he doesn’t really care to talk to. Twitter is where he gets his news from and he rants about what a shithead the president is– which is often.

@elizadoolittlewrites

SPELL A MUSE’S NAME IN MY ASK BOX

[topbeautifulwomens]

#Danny #Wood #Biography #Photos #Wallpapers #awesome #eyelashes #fashionkids #fun #hairsalon #magazine #makeupbyme #makeupforever #outfit #swag

“Look at me. Fact or fiction, what do you see?” – Danny Wood

Please put any prejudice aside before entering: Danny Wood is a Kid no longer.

For one thing, he’s matured; for another, his new solo album, Second Face, is a soulful mix of R&B, pop, and alternative-tinged tunes that any serious musician would be glad to claim as their own. But getting a proper hearing hasn’t been straightforward when your past pedigree includes having been part of that 80s phenomenon, New Kids On The Block; it’s been far more of a Stumbling Block.

Despite NKOTB’s achievements (listing-breaking live show attendance and sales; superstardom on a global scale), the ‘manufactured boy band’ image continues to linger around the former members, which is a source of frustration for the talented Wood. “I will never complain about the ride and what I learned from it, but musically it definitely wasn’t what I need to haveed to be doing,” he says of that time. “The backlash was unbelievable, because we were basically shoved down America’s throat. It truly is one thing when you cut a compromise, but it’s different when you’re forced to do things that you know are just not cool, and not what you really want to do.”

“There wasn’t any blueprint” for putting together super-groups like there is now, Wood adds. “We definitely opened doors. When we were coming up, you couldn’t find any white kids who could sing and dance like that; it was unheard of.” They came by that crossover flavor organically: “Me, Donny, Jordan and Jon all started school when busing began in Boston, and we were bused to all-black schools throughout high school. I was in the minority at school, and you had to be street, you had to be smart, get along with everyone and be likable, or you were going to be in a world of misery.”

And it also helps to think of being in NKOTB as the world’s highest-paid internship. “I learned all the basics for what I do now. I dove into learning the whole recording process – producing, writing, engineering – from day one. ‘What does this button do? What does that button do?’…It was the ultimate learning experience.”

Wood had more lessons in store before he could release this album, including the loss of his mother and an ultimately successful custody suit for his son. He began recording in 2000 with producer Pete Masitti (whose credits include the latest single by Hootie and the Blowfish and the new Julio Iglesias, Jr. album). Inspiration, songwriting and actually capturing the work all ran smoothly – but then Wood located his past blocking his future.

“I had been recording steadily since 2001,” he recalls, “but it was really hard to get someone to believe in it. Everyone loved the record; all along, I never got any negative feedback from major people in the business. But no one wanted to take that step and commit to me. Then Paul Klein (president and CEO of Empire Records) came along, in late September 2002. From note one of hearing the first bars of Home, he said, ‘I’ll put this out.'”

Another angel arrived in the form of Jimmy Ienner (Donnie’s brother and a legendary music figure in his own right, having worked with luminaries such as The Eagles and John Lennon). “We met several years ago, and he always remembered me,” Wood says. “I was nice to his kids. Once I started doing this record, we hooked up, and he started giving me really good criticism. He helped me make this record sound like it does. He told me, ‘I want to help you out, because you have the talent to make it; no other reason.’ He never asked for anything. He’s like my musical consigliere.”

“I don’t have to sell a million for this to be successful,” Wood sums up. “If I can make a living, then that’s all I care about.

“Any preconceived ideas, throw ’em out the window. Musically, my past doesn’t have anything to do with this record. Give it a chance. Listen to the first song, and if that doesn’t hit you, I don’t know what will.

“This record has never been about dollars; it’s about being heard, it’s about respect, and ultimately, it’s about showing people that there’s more to me than what they think.”

If you never give Danny Wood and Second Face that chance, you’ll never know what you’re missing. So what are you waiting for?

Here, track by track, is Wood’s own take on Second Face:

Home: “It’s the first song and a pretty emotional one; if this doesn’t affect you, then I don’t know what to say. When my mom passed away — losing someone is always difficult and everyone deals with it differently, but sometimes we wallow in the ‘what-if’ and we forget what was so amazing about that person. I went through a whole lot of that. This helps keep that memory strong, and helps keep her with me. I actually took a lot of positive things away from her passing.”

When The Lights Go Out: “It’s a song about interracial relationships. It hit me really close to home, because my son is racially mixed, and the whole thing I went through with the custody suit – it definitely pertained. This song was one hundred percent relevant.”

Suburbia: “This is a song about how the suburbs can seem so good but they tend to have the same problems there than in the city. You can’t judge a book by its cover! It’s a very powerful song.”

Broke Me Down: “It’s about bad relationships, and how a person can tear you down from the person you are and turn you into someone you’re not. And…I’d rather not be with you, than let that happen.”

Losing Myself: “That’s one of the only kind-of love songs on the album; it’s my message to my significant other.”

What If: “This is thee story of two people living on the street, and what they go through on a day-to-day basis.”

Goodbye: “That’s just about a relationship that didn’t work out, and you wished it had.”

Fall: “I don’t want to talk about what that’s about. That should be left up to people to interpret their own way. It’s definitely means different things to different people.”

Let It Go: “We tend to get caught up in our lives and let everything stress us out, and this is about how if we let those things go, life would be a lot more enjoyable.”

Get Away: “I think everyone can relate to this song, which is about dealing with the stress of everyday life. It can be anything, from someone raising their kids to working in a corporation. It’s just expressing that desire to get away from it all.”

Perfect: “People, when they first meet, sometimes look at each other and see everything they want in the other person. But then after time, it doesn’t turn out that way, and we have to learn that we’re not all perfect. And it also pertains to friendships; you have to learn how to accept people with their faults if you’re ever going to have relationships, whether it be friends or intimacy.”

Molly: “This is about someone I actually knew growing up and she ended up a stripper/prostitute. She was a beautiful girl. It was tough seeing someone grow up and have to have that kind of life.”

Wannabeme?: “I was sitting down one day thinking about past relationships; before the group and then being in the group, and how a lot of times I was pressured into having serious relationships that I didn’t want. So I lumped all those scenarios together in that song, which is something I think most people can relate to – even females going to meet the boyfriend’s parents, and all that – always being judged.”

Second Face: “I wrote this before my mom passed away, and while I was going through the custody suit. It was the first song I wrote for this record. When I moved down to Florida, I found out who all my friends were. People, man – it’s such a clichĂ©, but when you’re on top, everyone loves you. And when you ain’t on TV no more, or doing favors for them, or living around the corner where they can come and ask for money, people forget about you in the snap of a finger. That’s what this song is all about. And it’s true.”

Where You Are: “Trying to find that middle ground, trying to come together and work out all the difficulties in a relationship.”

Now: “When a relationship is on the brink: do we walk away? Do we stay together? When things are either going to be over, or someone’s going to have to bend somewhere.”

My Way: “For me, kind of my message to whoever is going to hear this. A lot of this record also came out of the frustration of past groups I’d worked with, or companies I worked for, or situations I was in – always helping people out and doing favors, and never getting anything out of it. This kind of says, ‘I’m not going to do that any more.’ I was producing groups and they were getting deals off my demos and then cutting me out of the album itself. It was not pleasant.”

You’re Not Alone: “That’s to my kids, for when I’m away. I always tell them you can put that on and listen to it and I’ll be right there with them.”

Name Danny Wood Height 5' 8 Naionality USA Date of Birth 14 May 1969 Place of Birth Boston, Massachusetts, USA Famous for

The post Danny Wood Biography Photos Wallpapers appeared first on Beautiful Women.

source http://topbeautifulwomen.com/danny-wood-biography-photos-wallpapers/