#I’m forever grateful no British people heard what went on in that house

[onioneyez]

My dad broke his toe and me and my mom have been thumbs-up-ing his Izzy cosplay all night

[blackevermore]

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 6 }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 2681

Maybe Danny should have stayed for dinner, gone home late and stayed long enough to defuse Dani’s anger towards Vlad. She was still mad at Danny but at least she would talk to him. This wasn’t the first time he has upset his daughter and had a silent dinner with her, that was bound to happen in the life of a parent who didn’t necessarily raise their kid. But this silent death had an added bonus of Dani staring at Vlad with a hint of confusion. Vlad tried his best to ignore it and pick at his food but the way her eyes seemed to dig further and further into his being it was impossible to ignore her.

“Danielle, I’m sure you are aware that staring is rude, no matter how much the other person upset you.” Vlad tried to sound as calm as possible as he spoke and for the most part it worked. Dani's eyes shot down towards her food and she quickly took a bite off her plate. Vlad sighed and decided he was done for the night, he wasn’t that hungry anyway, he snapped his fingers for the maid to come and clean. 

“Ya’know you could just get up and take it to the kitchen like a human.” Dani mockingly stated dragging out the word human just to emphasize her point. Vlad rose a brow and looked at her a bit bewildered but accepting the remark.

“As should you use the stairs to get to your room or anywhere else in the house. I know it's rather large but humans do it all the time.” Vlad couldn’t hide his amusement as Dani gave him a look of ‘shut up old man’. That spitfire attitude was all Danny’s and only 2% Vlad. Had Vlad had it his way a very long time ago, Danny would be his son doing the same thing and maybe Dani would have been there as well. Vlad hummed to himself then shook his head, one Danny of any sorts at a time. Two of them at once, Vlad was sure he would actually age past what he was physically. 

“I would like to apologize, Vlad took hold of his drink and took a sip to clear his throat. Apologies were still rather new to him and even if he truly meant it, it almost pained him to get it out. “Both Daniel and I know you only want to help. You are a natural born hero and we know it. But you have to understand that we are not trying to stop you because we think you can’t handle it. We are stopping you because what happened while we were in the Ghost Zone was even out of our hands. The last thing either of us wants is for you to be hurt trying to save us. Danny already had to drag me back home.” Vlad mutters the last bit, still embarrassed how easily he was defeated.

Dani untense her shoulders and lets out a sigh as she avoids making eye contact with Vlad. She gets it, she does, but she hasn't fought any bad guys in a while. Danny has been going out still on patrols while she was stuck at home because ‘you have school tomorrow’ was the excuse thrown at her. Even when she went home with Vlad she was still off limits from patrolling. If she wasn’t allowed to fight any ghost then at the very least she wanted to do was transform and fly around.

“I just wanna do something,” Dani plopped her face in her hands and sadly played with her food. Vlad nodded and gave her a sweet smile.

“Well, I can think of something that you can help with.” He said.

“Oh yeah?”

“And you can do it while in your ghost form.” Dani shot off the table and sat up straight in her chair. Vlad shook his head pleased to see her excitement once again. “I have a banquet coming this Wednesday and I haven’t gotten anything ready. I will give you full control to not only pick out the decoration, but also the theme and the staff that will entertain the guest. If you just so happen to make it ghost related I wouldn’t mind you putting on a show.”

Dani smiled but rolled her eyes and fell back into her chair.

“You put me on hosting duties but I’m not complaining. I get to go ghost!” Dani shrugged and picked up her fork to finish her plate. Vlad was actually impressed that she didn’t complain more. Had he ever said that to Danny, the boy would have complained the whole way through learning how to tie a tie.

“I will handle the menu, of course, but you have to tell me everything you want by tomorrow so we can prepare.” Vlad held up a finger and wagged it back and forth.

“Yeah yeah I gotcha, one fancy dancy fun party for fancy dancy people. But add a little bit of spice.” Dani did a very bad British accent and Vlad blinked a couple of times. She held up her hand and told him not to worry about it. Vlad will never understand this new generation and he wasn’t really sure he wanted to. When Dani finished her plate he was about to call for the maids but Dani stopped him. “Don’t worry I got this.” Dani pulled back her chair and picked up her mess and started towards the kitchen. When she passed Vlad she gave him a small smile, “Thanks dad.” 

Vlad would be lying if he said hearing her say that didn’t make his heart flutter. That was another tack on the board of good things Vlad has either done or heard. Vlad smiled and continued to sit at the table until he was done with his drink. When he looked towards the grandfather clock he realized it was rather late into the night. He still had work in the morning along with making sure Dani was ready to go when he was. With that he grabbed his glass and headed towards the kitchen to put it in the sink. Then he made his way towards the grand staircase to get to his room. He enjoyed the simplicity of being human sometimes, he took it for granted for 20 years so now being able to count the stairs up was fun. But Vlad also knew that being able to slip in and out of walls and floors was a childish thrill he would never let go.

  He led her from the wagon park on the dirt trail down through the trees to a hidden garden path that led to a cottage. Along the path was a stream of water that gently passed them by as the couple made their way towards their new home. Tayonna pulled away from him as she watched the water sparkle in the faint rays of the sun. It had been so long since they’ve been back here, four long years filled with nothing but trouble after trouble. The water looked so calm, not a care in the world as it continued to flow along the rocks on an unknown adventure. She wanted that, so badly. Born into unfortunate situations and only blessed by the benefit of service. She should be grateful but it seemed like the world was not made for people like her- for none of her people. She didn’t budge when she felt thick fingers slip between hers, nor did she look towards him when he stood beside her. 

“No one can find us here, it’s far enough from the town square and just far from any prying eyes. You are free to do as you please when you are here in my company.” Vladan took Tayonna’s hand in his and led her to the stream. The poor girl could tell he meant every word he promised her but something still haunted the depths of her mind. What they had together had changed dramatically from the time she was brought into the family to now. There was love, hidden scared fragile love that they both clung to in hope of forever.

“Here is home?” Tayonna asked as she reached down to dip her fingers in the cool water then used her powers to change its direction. The water started to rush upward towards the cottage before she lifted some of it into the air to swirl around them. Vladan smiled and pulled her in close and placed a kiss on her temple. The swirls of water broke apart in small drops and hung around them in crystals before dropping to the ground.

“And home is safe, I promise.” Vladan whispered to her, snaking a hand through her tight curls and pulling her in against his chest. They were safe, nothing bad could happen to them and he was sure of it. There was nothing left to take from him.

Vlad didn’t know what to make of this dream, but he was glad it wasn’t a nightmare nor a misleading sex dream. It was just bittersweet, as if he could tell the words that came out of his mouth- er the person he was in the dream’s voice was all a lie. Every time Vlad woke up from his dreams he couldn’t remember who he was supposed to be nor where he was. Everything played out like cloudy memories until Tayonna showed up. She always looked so unhappy and tensed like she also knew he was lying. Whenever they touched in these dreams, Vlad felt his heart flutter but always by the end it broke over and over again. He couldn’t even sit up in bed and simply rolled to his side to look out his window. He looked towards his bedside table and read the digital clock, it was 1am. He had only had the peace of slumber for two hours. As he stared out the window his mind drifted back towards the issues at hand.

From what Danny had told him about the ghost in the Ghost Zone, it seemed that Tayonna played on people’s emotions. ‘So she’s heartbroken?’ Vlad thought to himself then cringed at the thought of having to deal with another heartbroken ghost. What was it about the ladies in the ghost world all suffering from bad relationships? As if someone made it out to be that was the only thing they could truly suffer from. Vlad knew what heartbreak was, or rather what it could be when the one gets away from you. And yes he did spend a few years trying to win her over with shitty plots and tricks. But now he learned to let go, or in a way learning to do so, this was a cruel joke Clockwork placed him in. Tayonna would not be getting the upper hand on him.

When his position became uncomfortable he tossed himself onto his back once more. Staring up at the decorative ceiling Vlad found it hard to close his eyes. He was very tired but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle another dream. If he tried to think of something else to take his mind off the dreams it would find its way back around. Vlad ran a hand through his hair and pulled the dark patch in front of his eyes. He still couldn’t believe this, he was glad Danny and Dani hadn’t brought it up when he was standing in front of them. He had caught them looking since he woke from his small coma but they never asked. He sighed in a tired defeat and pushed his hair back behind him. He wanted to sleep and he would be damned if some ghost girl would be the reason he became an insomniac again. Vlad closed his eyes and tried to will his mind to nothingness so he could get comfortable. Within a few minutes he did start to feel himself slipping away, even when a cold hand caressed his cheek and tucked his hair behind his ear, he was completely drifting away.

The next morning Vlad for once in the past few months felt completely energized. When he opened his eyes he felt his power fire to life and felt like he could take on the world. He even had a little pep in his step as he hummed through getting ready and heading downstairs. Dani noticed his good mood as soon as he stepped into the kitchen. He hadn’t done any of this since he secretly bankrupt a competing company in California completely halting silicon valley.

“What’s got you all uppity?” Dani asked with a mouth full of cereal trying to shove as much as possible before being shooed out the door. Vlad stopped in his tracks halfway through making coffee and knotted his brows then shrugged. 

“I finally got a good night's rest, I suppose it put me in a good mood.” He hummed and continued his task.

“Well that's cool, also I have an idea for your thing tomorrow.” Dani pulled out her phone and swiped through it before opening her notes. “Four seasons, since it’s almost summer I think summer should be the main event while other parts of the party make up the other seasons. We could get some ghosts to dress up and be the spirits of the seasons and impress people with “magic tricks” .” Dani was proud of her idea, she had even drawn out costumes and shown Vlad.

“When did you have time to draw up all of these?” Vlad silently asked her for her phone and when she handed it over he flipped through the notes and the designs. They weren’t masterpieces but he could envision her idea. 

“Last night before bed, duh, but I figured out almost everything for each season. I'll be handling winter of course, but I couldn’t come up with anything for autumn because of the storm last night.” Vlad handed Dani her phone back and gave her a questionable look.

“What storm?” Vlad asked, taking a sip of his now cooling coffee. Rats. He wouldn’t have time to make another one, so he shrugged and used his powers to heat it up. They are there for a reason.

“You didn’t hear it? It was like so bad, I almost thought my window was gonna cave in from the winds. Eventually, it calmed down a bit and I went to sleep. You must have slept through it.” Vlad was sure that if there was a storm he would have heard it. Especially since he was woken up just a bit past midnight. Even when he looked out his window he didn’t see any traces of raindrops. Before Vlad could ask her more about the storm his phone sounded telling him it was time to go. With that he clapped his hands to gather Dani’s attention and told her to grab her stuff. He silenced his phone and stuck it in his pocket then transferred his coffee to his travel cup.

“Ugh I can’t wait till school is out.” Dani huffed and headed out the door heading towards the car.

“Two and half more weeks and you’re a free little woman. But until then get in the car so neither of us are late.”  Vlad shut the door and locked it and headed towards the driver's seat.

“Are you dragging us back to Wisconsin this summer? I kinda wanna stay here.” Dani rubbed her neck and Vlad secretly cursed Danny for giving her bad habits.

“I planned on at least staying there a week or so, but if you wish to stay in Minnesota that’s fine. Or I can compromise with you by staying with the Fentons’ while I’m gone.” Vlad felt proud of himself, he was on a roll of giving himself dad points. This unironically must be what Jack feels like. Wow… he didn’t want to compare himself to Jack at all.

“Deal.” Dani beamed and threw in her headphones for the rather lengthy car ride. 

[ranger-jedi-knight]

A New Hero Chap 23

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887313/chapters/64491796 Taglist: @bluesimani

Ok, so here’s the next chap!! So I’m going to skip the date scene cause I’d just butcher it but it did happen and it DID go well. I hope you guys enjoy it!! Also, check out my Tumblr for an announcement! Tumblr: ranger-gothamite 

Lana couldn’t help but softly smile with a laugh at seeing Xan’s face as they walked throu Gotham. He had the happiest face ever from how well his date went with Lila on Saturday. Even days later, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Lila was with them along with Mari, Damian, Kim, and Bee. Haya was busy doing commissions and her Lila, L, had a date but she wouldn’t tell them the name yet since she wanted to see how it went first. Two couples held hands as they walked. Nino and Chloe were doing some last minute stuff and would meet them up after.

“So, Lana,” Bee starts looking at her friend curiously and Lana tilts her head toward her friend. The others are looking at them as well, wondering what Bee was going to ask. “Have you thought about getting a coach?”

“Coach? For what?”

“For your ice skating! You’re really good at it,” Bee said, smiling encouragingly at her friend and Lana grew flustered at that as everyone nodded agreement.

“W-well. I don’t know. I’m not that good. It’s been years since I did a competition. I doubt any coach would want me,” Lana said waving a hand and Bee scowled as she took Lana’s hand and squeezed it.

“You are good. Don’t put yourself down. I’m sure lots of coaches would want you,” Bee said giving Lana a look as the others nodded.

“Ya, Lana! Don’t put yourself down,” Xan replied this time and Lana just gave a one-shoulder shrug.

“I-’ll think about it.” With that they continued walking toward the ice rink since everyone had wanted to do that. Mari shared a smile with Damian and pulled her phone out. Damian let her hand go so that she could message the man that offered to coach her what seems like forever ago. Damian looked at their group as the others talked to themselves while Mari quickly talked to Philippe.

Reaching the ice rink, Lana and Bee sat down to pull on their skates while the others went and rented some skates. Once they were all ready, they went onto the ice and skated around with Kim, Bee, and Lana helping them skate smoothly. “Hey Lana, mind recreating the last routine you did after I...?” he asked and Lana gave Xan a soft look as she nodded agreement.

“Of course. I did dedicate to you,” Lana said, pulling her phone out and pulling up the song. A song Xan was fairly fond of before he was killed and taken. “Play this when I get into position.” Xan nodded and she skated to the center of the rink. She was lucky there weren’t many people out then, and when they saw her they moved to the sides. He pressed play when she got into position, a soft smile grew on his lips when he realized it was ‘My Heart Will Go On’. She glided across the ice, unaware of the camera Mari had trained on her and the crowd.

Xan felt tears stinging his eyes as he watched the dance. Lila squeezed his hand, holding tightly as she wiped away a tear herself, watching as Lana danced with a grief and remembrance of someone she loved. It wasn’t a song dancers typically chose since it had words but she did as a tribute to him. She ended a bit to the side from her start point, her head tilted up looking to the side with her eyes closed, her mouth agape as a hand clutched her shirt above her heart and her other slightly behind her. Her torso turned slightly the way her head was facing, her right leg turned to face in front of her while slightly lifted as if to push her off while her left faced the same way her head was facing, toward Xan.

Xan was the first to class before everyone in the rink started clapping as well. A blush dusted her cheeks as she pushed off to go back to them. Mari was beaming as she slid her phone back into her pocket after sending the video to Philippe. “It was a bit clumsy,” she muttered embarrassed and flustered, You don’t deserve the praise. You’re a fake, a voice that sounded like Steve’s voice whispered into her ear. She hugged herself when she reached them, folding into herself. Bee was at her side immediately, whispering into her ear things that none of them could hear. She nodded occasionally, taking a few deep breaths.

“That was awesome! Mind teaching me some of those moves?” Kim asked, somehow knowing that a distraction is needed for her mind. Lila started nodding as well right as Nino and Chloe arrived on the ice.

“Teach what?” Chloe asked and Kim launched into an explanation of the routine Lana did. Chloe immediately beamed at Lana and nodded eagerly as well. Lana pulled them to the center of the rink to start teaching them, with some of the other people there as well joining in. Xan shared a smile with Mari and Damian at seeing her relax after whatever went throu her head skating back to them after the dance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

Duke had a small sideways smile on his lips as he shook his head. “You guys are ridiculous,” he said looking between Jason and Tim while Dick was face planted on the couch exhausted after doing a nightshift at the precinct.

“I resent that. That’s not true,” Jason said with his arms crossed and Duke just gave him a look while Tim snorted. “What!?”

“Nevermind that. Is it true?”

“Oh ya! It’s very true! Damian is dating Marinette! Finally! And, Dick is also dating Alya finally, along with this british FBI agent. They got close it seems while Dick was dating Babs. And don’t ask me about Kon ‘cause I can honestly say I don’t know who he’s seeing. He hasn’t told me and the person is just listed as ‘My Heart’ on his phone with hearts around it. Very cute if I’m being honest,” Tim said with a smile.

“You didn’t hack his phone to see?”

“Hey-!”

“You would! Don’t deny it!” Jason shouted while Dick mumbled his agreement along with a ‘shut up’.

“I’m respecting his privacy. I can do that,” Tim said and the two brothers shared a look before giving Tim a look.

“Couldn’t crack it?” Duke asked and Tim pouted as he looked away.

“He so didn’t. Bab’s probably encrypted Kon’s phone,” Jason replied and Duke nodded.

“So, when do I get to see ‘em?”

“See who?” Dick asked looking up, half asleep.

“You’re boyfriend and girlfriend, Dick. I already know Marinette.”

“Oh, uh…” he trailed off in thought and a yawn left him. “I’ll see,” he mumbled before going back to his nap so that he was ready for patrol that night. The three laughed at that and then Tim turned to Jason with a teasing smile.

“Duke, I don’t think you’ve heard about Jason’s crush,” Tim said in a teasing tone and Jason glared at him. Jason rushed over at Tim who evaded him while Duke looked interested.

“Oh?” he asked, curious since he hadn’t seen Jason crush on anyone in a while.

“Ya! You’ve met or seen Alya before, Dick’s partner at the precinct, she’s come here quite a bit,” Tim started and Duke nodded, he’s certainly seen her in passing, having maybe one or two conversations that lasted minutes because they each had something to do. “Well, she has a younger sister named Lana-” Tim yelped as he ducked under Jason’s arm as it swung at him. But he didn’t need to say any more as Duke was nodding with a smile.

“Ah. I see,” he then grabbed Jason’s wrist as he almost caught Tim’s shirt. Tim scampered behind Duke with a smile and patted his shoulder.

“Yup! Now I have to go! Gotta make sure the board didn’t try screwing over that hotel again!” Tim then ran out of the room and to his car while Jason glared at Duke.

“Not a word.” “Oh, I think the others won’t stop even when you ask her out,” Duke replied with a smirk before heading up to his room to unpack. Jason just groaned and fell onto the couch, Dick somehow being quick enough to keep his legs from being sat on. Once Jason was sitting on the couch defeated, Dick dropped his legs over Jason’s lap. Jason just groaned at that and tried melting into the couch, hoping his embarrassment would leave before someone else came.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melody was humming under her breath as she typed on her computer. A request to the sister hotel to see if they could borrow an employee. Looking up when she heard the door, she was surprised to see that it was the CEO Tim Drake-Wayne. “What can I do for you, Mr. Drake-Wayne?” she tilted her head as she asked the question.

“Just came by to make sure the board didn’t try pulling one over me,” he explained with a smile and Melody returned it with a soft laugh.

“Don’t worry. They haven’t. I think you scared them when you told them of what they did wrong,” she replied and Tim nodded with a smile and the phone started ringing and she raised a finger and answered it. As she dealt with the patreon, he looked around the lobby taking note of how it was simple, but nice. Plants were on both sides of the door, along with a couple in the corner by the front desk. A few landscape paintings covered the wall, along with a Gotham skyline showing the vigilantes-his photograph. He took it a while ago and he could tell what each silhouette was- Batman in front, Robin slightly behind with Nightwing and Red Hood behind them, caught up in a race, Spoiler and Signal high fiving as they jumped a gap after the two with Orphan bringing up the rear.

“You know, that’s one of my favorite photos,” Melody said coming up from behind to stand next to Tim. Tim startled at that but smiled softly as he looked over at her then back to the photo.

“Really?”

“Ya, it’d be even better if it had Red Robin in it too,” she replied smiling at him as she gave the photo one last look before going back to the front desk. “If I could, I’d have this photo, including Red Robin in it, in my house.”

“You like Red Robin?”

“Ya, why wouldn’t I?” she tilted her head a bit confused at his question as she started an email to their maintenance man. “Red Robin is awesome, he saved my life some years ago when I first arrived in Gotham. So I was grateful at first but now I look up to him,” she explained with a shrug, curious about his slightly shocked expression. “Ok, I can understand not knowing why since you are a CEO and plenty busy, but believe or not, a lot of people do like Red Robin.” “Ya, just been pretty busy. Only really seen Batman and Robin memorabilia thou. Nightwing and Red Hood I have seen occasionally but not much,” he admitted with a shrug and Melody nodded with a laugh.

“That is true. But I think it’s more on the concept of Batman and Robin being the dynamic duo who’s been around the longest. I mean, they still sell stuff that looks like the original Robin paired with Nightwing since it’s easy to guess that they’re the same since there was no Robin for a few months after Nightwing appeared,” she replied and Tim had to nod, people even suspect Robin #2 and Red Hood being the same which would be fair.

“Ya,” he whispered with a small smile, knowing that people did appreciate his work as Red Robin even if it wasn’t obvious.

“Since you’re looking around, you could get some coffee or something from the machine,” Melody said looking up as she sent the email before pointing to the machine that sat on a counter running along the wall next to the desk.

“Thanks,” he walked over and made himself some hot chocolate. Going back to the desk, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a card and held it to Melody. “Here, in case the board tries anything again.” He then started toward the door and waved to an employee that was walking back to the front desk.

Mari-aculous @MDC_Designs Having fun at the ice rink with everyone! Apparently Lana is popular right now #awesome #iceskating #icedancing #figureskating #learning *Mari beaming at the camera before turning it to show Lana helping bother her friends and some strangers doing some figure skating moves*

Ok, so here’s the next chap! I hope you guys enjoy this fun little thing showing the characters doin random n havin fun. AND DUKE APPEARS!! Sorry if Duke is a bit OOC, I tried. He seems like a cool character, I literally read a couple wiki type things bout him so this is my best guess of how to do him. And, next chap Duke will meet Alya and Xavier and see the others again! Until next time!! -Love Willa<3<3<3 

[blissfulalchemist]

"steam rising from a bowl of soup" + dealer's choice!

Dealer’s choice said....

“I don’t care that it’s an inconvenience for you,” Stasia rolled her eyes, arm crossing over her chest, “You’re there to keep things under control.” Fifteen minutes, that’s how long she had spent talking to Jack, well arguing was probably the better term. She rubbed her temple listening to the flimsy excuses of her underling, calculating the time it would take to fly down there herself and fix the situation. “Jack I need you to fix this, that’s all I’m asking of you. If you think it’s an inconvenience for yourself imagine how much of one it’ll be for me if I have to go down there.”

His excuses continued as Stasia looked up at Carly, with her pale skin and blood red eyes, giving a small smile. Carly returned it making her way to the stove in the three bedroom house lifting the lid to inspect the contents inside. Stasia paced the kitchen lips tightening into a thin line, “Look I’m going to give you ten hours to fix this whole situation or to at least be in the process of doing so, got it?” She paused her eyes narrowing as she lowered her voice, “Jack if I have to go down there, you will regret it.” Stasia hung up the phone tossing it onto the table as Carly set the fresh bowl of soup in front of it. “You know I miss when you could slam a phone closed.”

“Or slam them against the cradle,” Carly laughed lightly, her smile widening showing off her elongated canines, “Can’t tell you how many of both I broke.” The two women laughed as they took a seat, Stasia leaning down to the bowl, steam brushing along her cheekbones. “Should I start making arrangements for the jet, Stasia?”

“Hm,” she waved her hand, “Not yet, no. They’re all incompetent but Jack is the least out of them all.”

“Which Jack is it?” Carly asked resting her chin on her hand, “Hit the Road Jack or Jack Hammer?”

“The one in New York,” Stasia smiled with a small eye roll, “You just love giving all of them code names?”

The pale woman shrugged leaning back in the chair, “Makes it easier to keep track of the region and we have like five different Jacks in leader positions.” Carly bit her lower lip focusing on the space behind Stasia, “New York is Jack DiCaprio, I don’t think that’s saying much.” Carly’s eyes focused back on Stasia as she brought the spoon to her mouth, “I can make some calls, have Hugo on the ready.”

Stasia gave a nod, a smile coming onto her face as she took the first bite, “My god Carly, you managing to keep your cooking prowess after all these years seems unnatural.” Carly smiled, head tilting down pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, some human habits never left, her embarrassed mannerisms being the most prominent. “I am forever grateful that I get to be the one to reap that fact,” Stasia praised taking another bite, the phone vibrating once more. 

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll go and make the call,” Carly said softly making her way to the basement of the house.

Stasia answered, putting the phone on speaker, “This better be life or death Jaqueline,” Maybe we do have too many Jacks.

“Kind of,” the woman on the other end replied, “We lost hold of Bexley ma’am.”

Her spoon clattered into the bowl, “You WHAT!”

“We lost-.”

“I heard you the first time,” she growled, rubbing her forehead, “What I want to know is how you managed to lose hold of it?”

“Uh,” Jaqueline’s voice wavered, “Well there’s a new Strigoi, he was some MMA fighter or something, and well he’s wanting to have a region to call his own.”

“And that’s it?”

“Well he’s very charismatic,” the woman added quickly, “Some of the uh women and men helped him.”

“Some of our people helped him.”

“That’s correct ma’am.”

Stasia took a deep breath, “So what do you plan on doing to get Bexley back?”

“Uhm,” Stasia could hear the movement of the woman shifting, “Well I was hoping to get your input on that.”

Stasia stayed silent, the woman doing the same for the next ten seconds, “Well tell me your plan.” 

“Right, uh, yeah. My plan.”

“You don’t even have a plan,” she slammed her hand on the table, standing, “So what you just thought you could call me and I’d have one magically ready for you?” The woman on the phone stuttered, “That’s not how this works Jaqueline. I put you in charge so you could put out fires like this, so that I can focus on the bigger picture. I can’t keep coming over and doing your job for you otherwise what’s the point of having you around, hm.” 

“I-I- Well you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll- I’ll get. I’ll take care of this.”

Stasia crossed her arm, resting it in the crook of her elbow, “You better, because as your predecessor would tell you,” she lowered her voice, “there are no second chances.”

“But didn’t you uh,” the woman started to ask, swallowing hard, “You know uh that doesn’t matter. I’m gonna go and get right on remedying the situation.”

The woman hung up, Stasia gripping the phone, knuckles white, teeth grinding, “INGRATES!” 

Her free hand shot out slapping the ceramic bowl off the table, its destination the wall to her right. The pieces fell ringing in Stasia’s ears, her hands resting on the table, nails digging into the dark wood. Carly approached her quietly, hand reaching out to her shoulder, “How hard is it to keep an eye on territory, Carly? Tell me, because you seemed to handle it just fine all those years ago.”

“Well back in my day,” Carly’s voice taking on a crotchety lilt, “I made sure there was loyalty among my faction, all I needed was a good punch.” The corners of Stasia’s lips quirked briefly in a smile, “You know how these kids are, they think the way to win is through mind games only.”

Stasia let out a sigh, “It makes it irritating,” her eyes met Carly’s, “Did you get Hugo on standby?”

She nodded, “Just needs to know where we’re going.”

“I hope you’re craving British,” Carly groaned, “We lost Bexley.”

Carly’s mouth fell open, “How-. We lost Bexley.” Stasia gave a short nod, “That should have been the easiest to keep an eye on.”

“Well Jaqueline had some traitors in her midst.”

Carly rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up, “Of course it’s Jaque the Ripper.” She shook her head, “I’ll call him and let him know we’ll be leaving after your-.”

The sharp ring of the doorbell had both women looking to the front of the house, Stasia glancing at the clock on the wall. Still too early for her apprentices to be showing up for their lessons. Carly gave a nod, making her way back down to the basement, Stasia glancing through the peephole once she made it to the door. She cocked a brow seeing the multi-colored hair of her newest addition. “Tia,” she greeted, opening the door, smile easily coming to her face, “I didn’t expect you to come by until later.”

The young woman looked down, pushing some hair behind her ear, “I know, I’m sorry. I just-,” Tia inhaled deeply, “I need to talk  to you Stella.”

Stasia opened the door farther, “Of course, sweetie, come in.” Tia nodded, shoulders hunching over as she made her way over the threshold, “Can I get you anything to drink? Tea or water perhaps?”

Tia swallowed, shaking her head, Stasia catching a glimpse of the tears in the twenty year old’s eyes, “No thank you.”

Stasia put her arms around Tia’s shoulders, guiding her to the living room sofa, “Honey what happened?” The tears started to fall as the two women sat down on the sofa, “Oh Tia,” Stasia whispered, pulling her closer, smoothing her hair, “You can tell me anything.”

She nodded, sniffling, “I know. I know, but I-I have to drop out of my lessons with you.” She pulled away wiping at her face, “I have to go back home for a- Well I don’t know how long actually.”

Stasia’s brows knitted together, “What happened at home, sweetie?”

“My mom’s sick,” Tia whispered, eyes cast down, “I have to go and take care of her.” 

“Your mom’s sick,” Stasia repeated, as the young woman nodded, “Well that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” She smoothed the dyed hair, “Don’t worry about the lessons,” Tia’s eyes went wide, “You have enough skill to be able to practice on your own.”

“But I might not have the time to learn what you want to be teaching me. She might need around the clock care.”

“I was actually thinking that we change your curriculum,” Stasia grabbed her hands, giving her a sympathetic smile, “Magic is mostly about practice. So matter what kind of spell you do it will strengthen your power. I have some books downstairs that contain healing spells and rituals.”

“I-. Are you saying I could get rid of whatever is wrong with her?” Tia sat straighter, her lips quirked in a hopeful smile.

“Well,” Stasia looked down, letting out a slow breath, “no, not really. These are spells meant for minor illnesses and injuries.”

“Oh.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t use them to help your mom still,” Stasia brushed some of Tia’s hair back, “I assume it’s cancer?” 

Tia nodded, “Currently Stage three.”

“Well you can use these to help in providing comfort and relieving some of the pain that comes with it.”

“Maybe stop it from getting worse?”

Stasia smiled, “Possibly. I can’t guarantee that though.” She patted Tia’s knee, “Here let me grab them for you. You just stay right here.” She stood making her way to the basement, smile spreading across her face. 

Carly smirked watching as Stasia skimmed the library, “What’s got you all happy all of a sudden?”

“Tia’s mother is sick,” she glanced over her shoulder, “Stage three cancer.”

Carly blinked, her smile falling away, “Oh, that’s terrible,” Stasia nodded, mumbling to herself, “So why do you seem so happy about that?”

“A-ha,” Stasia pulled a black leather bound book, eyes scanning for another, “Well I told her that there wasn’t anything that could fully heal away her mother’s cancer.” She pulled a brown leather bound book along with a thinner journal, both with matching Nordic runes, “There is though.”

“So why not tell her that?”

“Because Carly,” she answered, setting the books down getting some supplies together for travel, “Tia could prove to be more useful than just a power source. I could make her a full time apprentice.” 

Carly nodded along slowly, “Be nice to have someone like you on the other side of the world.” Stasia beamed at Carly, “But she seems so….nice.”

“Not until she gets a little taste of the power she could have,” she held up a vial to the light, “and ailing parents are such great motivators to try something a little more unethical in her eyes at the current moment.”

Carly’s red eyes flicked to the black book, “There’s a spell in there that can do that.” Stasia hummed, “And what if she doesn’t take the bait?”

Stasia looked at her slowly, “Don’t tell me the Jacks have gotten to you, Carly.” The undead woman put her hands up, “She’s still of use just less than if she does the spell I want her to do.” She closed up the box, bringing it to the stairs, “Trust me though, a girl like her always takes the bait. She’s just going to be the first to live through it.” Carly looked her up and down, frowning with her brows knitted together until Stasia was out of the door. 

Tia stood hearing Stasia make her way back to the living room, “Here let me help you with that, Stella,” she rushed over grabbing the box from the bottom. “This is a lot of stuff. I don’t think I can accept all of this.”

Stasia waved a hand, “I insist. It’s just something to get you started anyway.”

Tears brimmed her eyes once more, “Thank you. Thank you so much,” Tia reached out with one arm, Stasia following in the embrace, “This means so much to me.”

“Oh of course honey,” she pulled away, hands on Tia’s shoulders, “Now you just call if you need anything in those spells that you can’t find at home okay? I can send some out to you no problem.” The young woman nodded enthusiastically, Stasia smoothing her hair once more, “Now you get going to your mother. She needs you right now.” 

Stasia leaned in the doorway watching as the mint green VW bus drove off in the midday sun, hearing the basement door start to creak open. She closed the door coming face to face with Carly, “What did you mean she would be the first to live through that spell?”

“The one that’s needed takes a lot from a witch, some girls didn’t have the power needed. Shame for a few of them actually.”

Carly crossed her arms, Stasia gliding past into the kitchen, “What makes you so sure though?”

Stasia paused, looking over her shoulder, “Because I know exactly what Tia is and the power that comes with someone like her.” She gave a chuckle, grabbing the broom, “Well if it's at the same level of a Moroi.”

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 2 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Okay so, to be honest, we really thought that we were doing this for ourselves and that maybe a few people would read it. The fact that so many of you guys have been SO kind and supportive is just lovely and we are infinitely grateful for you all!! Here is Chapter 1. Here’s a link to AO3 if you’d prefer to read there. 💫

Last Chapter: Violet received the thrilling news that Fame intends to promote her to design as soon as she finds and trains a new assistant.

This Chapter: We meet the other department heads.

***

Violet looked out on the conference table one final time, consulting the list in her notebook to make sure that nothing was forgotten. It was Wednesday morning, the 9am monthly creative meeting starting in less than 15 minutes.

The table was set with a light breakfast spread, no one but Trixie and Alyssa ever actually eating at these things, but she had made sure there was a selection of fruits, and that everyone had their favorite beverages besides the ginormous coffee order. Keeping track of the department heads and their various likes and dislikes was almost a job in itself, but Violet had gotten it down to a science.

There were frosted Pellegrinos for Fame, Raja preferring grapefruit juice. Alyssa liked Redbull, Alaska preferred diet Doctor Pepper, Trixie was a regular coke kind of guy while Pearl was a wildcard, but Violet had a good feeling about the chocolate milkshake, since she had heard the rumor that Pearl had been out partying.

Violet had spent most of last night writing the job description for the new assistant, falling asleep with her notebook in hand, only to wake up in a panic at 3 am to realize that the electricity was out yet again. She had slept restlessly for the rest of the night, then missed her first alarm, barely making it to her gym for a shower before coming in to work at 7.30 sharp, and while Violet knew she looked flawless, it felt fundamentally wrong to take a stop at her gym without working out.

The only bright spot so far had been how HR had accepted her initial proposal right away, giddiness bubbling in her chest at the thought that the process of finding her replacement was actually happening.

“- and don’t forget to bring the swatches.”

Raja Amrull was standing by the window, her phone to her ear, a cup of coffee already at her lips as she spoke to her assistant.

Raja Amrull was the chief creative officer, co-founder of Galactica and one of Fame’s very best friends. Violet took a moment to watch her as she gave order after order, her voice filled with a natural authority that always made Violet’s stomach do a flip.

Raja was wearing a mustard fitted pantsuit, the black hair that almost reached her waist put in intricate braids, and Violet knew it was the work of her girlfriend. Raja’s tan skin was practically glowing in the morning sun, the dark brown tattoos on her left hand standing out.

Even though she was in her 40s, 41 if Violet remembered correctly, she still looked every bit the supermodel she had been in the 00’s.

Raja wasn’t a naturally sweet person, but in Violet’s opinion that didn’t matter. She was competent and got her business done, which was something Violet admired in a leader.

“Violet?”

Violet blushed, the sound Raja’s voice cutting through her daydream. She had been so caught up in watching her that she hadn’t actually paid attention, but Raja had never been known for her patience, so she simply snapped, pointing at the room's thermostat, and Violet quickly made her way over, turning it down four degrees to the temperature she knew Raja preferred.

She felt like an idiot for forgetting, and she promised herself that it wouldn’t happen again.

Alaska, head of makeup and fragrances, was the first to arrive. The blonde wasn’t particularly talkative before her third cup of coffee, her every word drawn out in long lazy vowels. Alyssa came second, Violet counting her blessings that the marketing director had shown up on time. Alyssa always got the job done, but getting her anywhere on schedule was always an experience, the woman forever off in her very own world where she was the star of everything.

Fame was third, her first words as she stepped through the door, “Why is no one ready?” and Violet felt her stomach clench.

The meeting wasn’t scheduled to start for another 10 minutes, but that was one of the most terrifying things about Fame. She was never early, she was never late, everyone else was simply supposed to be there the exact moment she wanted them.

Violet was just about to open her mouth to apologize for Pearl, when the woman in question came in through the door.

“Morning everyone.” Pearl smiled, her voice a slow drawl. She was wearing a black turtleneck crop top, a black miniskirt and Violet was pretty sure she could see pieces of golden glitter in her unwashed blonde locks.

Alaska waved, but Fame gave her one single slow judgemental once-over, the kind that Violet had witnessed cause several interns to burst into tears.

“What are you wearing?” Fame’s voice was icy cold, but Pearl only smirked.

“You don’t like it?”

“Did you sleep in your makeup?” Fame reached out, touching Pearl’s chin with a single finger and tilting her head up, turning her face from side to side. “You know how I feel about this mistreatment of your skin.”

Fame dropped her hand, and Violet immediately handed her a tissue. Fame wiped her fingers, giving the now crumpled paperback to Violet, the whole exchange taking less than 10 seconds.

“You smell like an illegal teen party.”

“It’s because I’ve been to one.” Pearl smiled brightly, Fame’s disapproval and rudeness clearly not touching her at all. “Wait until you see the photos. Half the partygoers were wearing our newest print. Trixie was absolutely right-”

Just as Fame said those words, Trixie pushed through the door, the senior creative team of Galactica now all present, to Violet’s relief.

“You rang?” he said with a cheeky grin, earning a fist bump from Pearl.

It had taken Violet months to realize how much of a genius Trixie actually was--his close-shaven brown hair, obvious bald spot, a fondness for colorful t-shirts and love handles all doing everything they could to hide that he was one of the main forces behind Galactica’s success. But Trixie (who’s real name was Brian, though Violet had never heard anyone call him that) was wildly creative, known for his effective management style and outside the box thinking.

While Raja handled the broad creative direction and was the face of the company to customers and consumers, Trixie was in charge of the day to day operations of the design departments. He ruled the design atelier and the tailoring department with a gentle touch, though no one dared cross him, Trixie just as willing as anyone else in the boardroom to do what it took to get the job done.

“I’m sorry I’m late-” Trixie yawned, barely hiding it behind his hand.

“I take it the collection is going well?” Raja smirked, her knife cutting through an apple.

“Don’t even ask.” Trixie groaned, sitting down in a chair, grabbing the coffee - two-pump caramel, whole fat milk - Violet delivered to his hand and drinking it down greedily. “My machine broke and ate most of my prototype.”

“So it’s not here?” Fame raised a brow, but Trixie shook his head, reaching into the paper bag he had brought along.

“I’ve been remaking it all night on Katya’s shitty theater machine.”

“Oh, my poor darling.” Fame leaned against the edge of the table, gently running a hand through Trixie’s buzzed hair. “We’ll get you a new one.” “Thank you.” Trixie smiled, and Violet grabbed her notebook, knowing that Fame without a doubt expected her to find the exact same machine Trixie had broken and get it delivered to his apartment before the workday was over.

***

A knock caught Violet’s attention. She was back in the office, writing out her to-do list from the meeting, her nails clacking away on the keyboard.

“Violet?” Max Malaphany was standing in the door, a smile on his lips. “Is she in?”

Max was an impossibly tall British man, his soft short hair grey, his eyes blue.

“Sorry,” Violet quickly pressed save, turning her chair. “Fame is in a meeting, but I can pencil you in for later?”

Max was Galactica’s main photographer, and one of Fame’s treasured darlings. He had a studio on the top floor, his sure hands and endless patience capturing all in house media, Galactica producing every single shot for their website themself, and while Violet wouldn’t have believed it made that much of a difference, their online portfolio had thousands and thousands of visitors every single day.  

“I’ll just wait here.” Max was carrying a portable light table under his arm, and Violet could only guess what would be in his backpack. “I’ll only be a moment.”

If it had been anyone else, she would have protested, ushered them out of her little front office one way or the other, but Max was different. He was one of the few calming presences at Galactica, he never probed, rarely gossiped, and Violet truly enjoyed that about him.

“Do you want some water?” Violet had a mini-fridge under her desk stocked with the most important supplies, since she never knew when Fame’s cravings or the mood of her guests would strike.

“I’d love that.”

She quickly grabbed him a water, and Max settled down in one of the plush armchairs normally reserved for visitors. He didn’t start talking, wasn’t trying to make chit chat that would inevitably turn awkward, which was why Violet had allowed him to stay.

She went back to her memo, working for a little while but her eyes were stinging, and she only barely managed to hide a yawn behind her hand.

“Are you feeling alright, Violet?” Max asked gently.

“What?” In spite of her exhaustion, Violet was in a fairly good mood, and while she didn’t have the sunniest disposition, she wasn’t actively annoyed at the moment. She quickly checked her face in the glass door to the office, smoothing down her hair.

“You look lovely as always, Violet.” Max smiled. “I was only asking because, well, I’ve never seen you slouch before. Are you feeling unwell?”

“Oh…” Violet straightened her back, her fingers in her thick black locks. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Okay.” Max nodded. His expression was so understanding, his manner so patient, that Violet did something she rarely ever did. She offered more information.

“I’m just tired, I-” Violet swallowed down a nervous chuckle, her tongue feeling like it was growing in size in her mouth. “I don’t sleep well these days. The electricity in my building, isn’t, it isn’t very stable, and I keep having these nightmares where my phone runs out of charge so I miss an important call and-”

“Oh dear.”

Violet realized how stupid she had to sound, but she had woken up covered in sweat thinking she had missed calls from Fame, any rest she got broken up by the worry that she wasn’t doing her job.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing to worry about really,” Violet assured him. “The landlord said they’ll rewire the building-” Max didn’t need to know that her landlord had been promising that exact thing the entire time Violet had been living there, but she didn’t really have any other options, her student debt way too much for her to even consider spending another penny on rent. “I’m sure it’ll work itself out.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck with that,” he said sincerely. Just then, the door opened and Jaida, the company's CFO, came out.

“Max!” Fame appeared in the doorway, a delighted smile on her face.

Violet’s stomach turned to ice, everything in her begging that Fame hadn’t heard her complain.

“Hello Miss. I know you’re terribly busy, but I wondered if you could spare a few minutes to discuss the test shoot for the new brochures yesterday?”

“Of course, anything for you!” Fame said. She truly was a different person in Max’s presence, Violet noted. Softer and calmer--as most people were.

“Wonderful.”

***

“Oh I don’t know about this light for orange, it’s so ghastly-” Fame was chewing her lip, a lens in her hand as she went over the pictures Max had brought in for her.

“Fame?”

“Yes dearest?” Fame looked up. She loved Max. When Pearl had told her of a British wildlife photographer she had met in LA and bullied into taking her picture, Fame hadn’t been interested. As always, Pearl had proven to have an eye for talent that few could compete with, her social media director not only able to sniff out trends like a bloodhound, no, she knew people, and she knew them instantly.

Max had a rare talent for capturing the natural beauty of an unnatural world, so much of fashion made up of things that didn’t matter, but when he shot, when he turned his lens on someone, he captured all the best they could offer each and every time.

“I heard Ivy moved in with her boyfriend.”

“Mmh?” It was indeed true. Raja’s assistant, Ivy, had been living in the building Fame and Patrick owned for a few years. Fame and Raja had almost gotten in a fight, something that never happened, when Ivy’s house in Queens had been torn down, but in the end Raja had gotten her will, Ivy moving into the studio apartment on the top floor. “She left two weeks ago.”

Fame had meant to find someone else to take the apartment, but that building was special. It wasn’t just an apartment complex, it was a place where she kept her chosen ones, a safe haven she offered to talent that she trusted.

“You know, Violet doesn’t have reliable electricity. In her building. I mean.”

“Oh Max.” Fame smiled, touching Max’s knee. “You have always had such a tender heart.”

[sweetfogarty]

days go by, give me a sign (Joaquin DeSantos x Kevin Keller)

Summary: Joaquin has been stuck in Riverdale since he died, only able to watch his friends and family from afar as a ghost. Watching Kevin try to move on with his life has been particularly hard, and so Joaquin decides that he wants to try and give him a sign to show him that he's still around, although that task is harder than he originally anticipated. AKA: Three times Joaquin tried and failed to give Kevin a sign and the one time he succeeded. 

Word count: 3.3K+

WARNINGS: None.

Author’s note: I’m submitting this for @southsidearchive​‘s event (Falloween) and @riverdale-events​‘ event (Tricks and Treats of Riverdale), both under their respective supernatural themes. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

ONE

Joaquin had been wanting to make contact with Kevin for a while, but being a ghost made that significantly harder for him. Observing his friends moving on with their lives since he died had made him feel forgotten, but seeing Kevin and not being able to reach out to him had been the hardest part. It was one thing having to watch people’s lives continue without him, but it was harder and more frustrating to not be able to communicate with those people anymore.

Joaquin’s life had been full of trials and tribulations, but he found life as a ghost lonelier than anything he’d ever experienced, being sent to San Junipero included.

He’d had been racking his brains for weeks trying to figure out how to get Kevin’s attention, and finally he’d managed to come up with a few ways to contact him and ensure that he knew it was him.

On a dark Friday night in Riverdale, Joaquin knew that it was officially time to put his plan into action.

Kevin sat lazily on the sofa, legs hanging over the arm of the chair with his own arms behind his head, propping it up. He was snuggled up under a warm blanket watching Modern Family- a typical Friday night for him.

Joaquin watched carefully, studying the boy he’d grown to love all those years ago, biding his time. Ghosts had a reputation for being able to affect electrical appliances, and Joaquin had been practicing whilst Kevin had been at school and Tom had been out at work, occasionally blowing a lightbulb or setting off the siren on the cruiser.

He was planning to try to use this new-found power to give Kevin a message that he would understand loud and clear.

Once the show went to its commercial, Joaquin tried with all his might to change the channel.

Kevin’s brows furrowed confusedly as the Netflix logo appeared on his TV, searching around to see if he’d laid on the remote and accidentally changed the channel, eventually catching sight of the remote on the coffee table and chalking it down to an electrical malfunction inside the television. It was on the older side, and they probably could do with a new one, so it wouldn’t have been too farfetched to have assumed that something weird was going on inside that old thing.

He started the worry however once the TV ‘randomly’ selected Kevin’s Netflix account and began scrolling through his recently watched shows.

Kevin’s pulse was in his throat as it finally stopped scrolling and settled on Great British Bake Off.

That had been their show. One night when the pair had first started dating, they’d been laid in Joaquin’s bed and had randomly decided to watch Great British Bake Off together. Eventually, they made a pact to never watch it without each other. It was their Friday night thing; Kevin would come around to see Joaquin after hitting the bakery on Main Street, ready for them to watch the show until they fell asleep with each other, stomachs full of goodies. It was stupid to some people, but to Kevin and Joaquin, it was the highlight of their week.

Kevin hadn’t been able to stomach watching the show since Joaquin had been found dead in Tent City months ago and seeing it on his screen made his ears feel hot and his stomach tie into knots.

Joaquin selected the show from where he stood at the back of the room, listening to the jingle as he watched Kevin carefully. He thought he’d know right away that it was him, being that it was their thing, but instead Kevin came undone right in front of him, turning the show off and going to his room in tears.

Guilt crept through Joaquin and he mentally cursed himself. Maybe it was too soon to be contacting him, especially in a way so personal, but it had been months since the funeral, and he knew that both of them would be grateful for an interaction. It would help them both heal in a way that time couldn’t allow, and so he had to try harder next time.

TWO

Joaquin had a different tactic this time- one that he hoped would upset Kevin a little less and make him understand that what was happening was something good, not something to be upset by or afraid of.

Kevin was a creature of habit; he got home from school at the same time every day, besides when he had wrestling practice, and so by Joaquin’s calculations he was due him imminently and this was when he was planning to make his next attempt at contacting his favourite boy.

Buried deep inside of Kevin’s closet was Joaquin’s Serpent jacket. He’d been given it by the Serpents when the boy had died as a token of their appreciation for all Kevin did for him and for the gang, and since receiving it, it had become his most prized possession. He wanted to have it framed and displayed on his bedroom wall, but for now, to keep it safe, he had it in his closet where he knew no one would find it. No one except Joaquin.

Joaquin pushed through the polo shirts and jumpers to eventually find his old jacket. As he pulled it out, he ran his ghostly hand over the leather, grinning has he looked over his old snakeskin. The leather still smelt the same and was still as battered as he remembered it being, and the black inner lining was still littered with patches of different fabric where it had been torn during scuffles and repaired by Kevin.

His favourite patch was the lime green one that was about an inch in length and width and sat just below his right pocket- Kevin had tried to teach him to sew that day and although he’d ended up stabbing himself with the needle more times than he could remember, he’d managed to sew it in, in the end. It was nowhere near perfect and Joaquin had hated the colour at first, but the memories attached to it had made him so fond of that little old patch that it made him feel something special even looking at it.

Joaquin laid the jacket on Kevin’s bed, smoothing it out as he took a seat at the desk a few feet away, ready to watch the scenario in front of him unfold, hopeful that today would be the day that the pair finally got to connect again.

It wasn’t long before the front door unlocked and Kevin came home. He almost instantly bound up the stairs to unpack his bag and get changed ready to go to Pop’s with the gang, not wanting to waste any time as he knew they’d be waiting for him given that he lived the furthest from their treasured diner.

Upon entering the room, Kevin stopped, eyeing the jacket suspiciously with knitted brows and a bemused look inching its way across his face. He cautiously circled the bed, not taking his eyes off the leather and touching it gently, like if he touched it too hard it would turn into dust before him and his last piece of Joaquin would be gone forever.

“Dad,” Kevin called out, straightening back up as he dragged his fingertips away from the jacket. “Have you been in my wardrobe today?”

“What would I be doing in your wardrobe?” Tom shouted up the stairs. “Looking for a v-neck to wear which would shred the second I tensed? No, Kev, I haven’t been in there.”

“Alright, alright, no need for the roast,” the teen laughed in response, grabbing the leather garment off of the bed, looping the shoulders over the arms of the coat hanger he’d had it hung on. “Just wondered.”

Joaquin watched as Kevin studied the jacket suspiciously, his shoulder hunched with tension and a newly found stress adorning his face. He hoped Kevin would finally put two and two together, crossing his fingers on his lap as he rested his elbows back against Kevin’s desk.

“This house is so weird, I don’t like this one bit,” the preppy boy mumbled to himself as he tried to brush off the feeling that he was being watched, slipping the jacket back into its place at the back of his wardrobe, utterly confused as to how it had ended up on his bed. “Out of sight, out of mind. C’mon Kev, get it together.”

Joaquin sighed. Although this was another failed attempt, he knew he was getting closer and Kevin was finally beginning to realise that someone or something was trying to get his attention.

He just hoped that he could make him realise who it was that was trying to communicate with him before he was too scared to even open his mind to the idea that it might be something good instead of something bad.

THREE

Joaquin had been doing some thinking, and he knew that this time he was going to have to step it up to make sure Kevin knew it was him. His plan was to make physical contact with the boy this time, hoping that the saying ‘third time’s a charm’ would be applicable to this situation he’d instigated and that they’d finally have their reunion.

It had been two weeks since his first disastrous attempt at communicating with the boy, and once again tonight he was lounging on the sofa watching TV, however this time with his Dad in an armchair across the room.

Joaquin had overheard Kevin on the phone talking to someone about what had been happening around the house, and part of him felt awful for how freaked out he’d made him feel, but he’d also heard him talking about how much he was struggling with the Serpents boy’s death and so that was the only thing keeping him going with these attempts. It was the desire to help Kevin move on that made him persevere, hoping that he could mend his heart in a strange kind of way.

Joaquin crept around the room, behind the sofa Kevin was sat on and to the right of him, approaching carefully. He passed past their houseplants, accidentally brushing them with his hand and causing the leaves to rustle and sway.

As if at once, Kevin sat up panicked, looking right at the ghost boy and then at his Dad.

“Dad, did you just see that?” He asked frantically, continuing when Tom shook his head. “The house plant just moved by itself, I saw it with my own two eyes!”

Kevin’s finger pointed to where Joaquin was stood frozen, his eyes flicking between the two Keller’s as he waited to see what would happen and whether he’d been rumbled.

“Easy, son,” Tom started, a low, laugh rumbling through his chest. “It’s probably just the warm air from the radiators, so just relax. You’ve been so paranoid lately about nothing- just enjoy some TV with your old man.”

Kevin sighed, sitting back into his seat as he tried to concentrate on the show, but his mind wouldn’t stop racing, thinking about all the things that had been happening around the house. Something was up, he knew it was, but he couldn’t prove any of it and it was driving him mad.

After a few minutes of waiting, hoping the situation would calm down, Joaquin finally approached Kevin taking a deep breath before he grabbed his hand, squeezing hard three times like he always used to when Kevin was scared to let him know that everything was okay.

Kevin yanked his hand away from Joaquin’s grasp, standing frantically up out of his feet taking a few steps away.

“Something just touched me! I know it sounds dumb, but something just touched me, I’m not lying,” he turned to his Dad, hands shaking, goose bumps rolling up his arms. He looked down at his hand, spotting rosy fingerprints blemishing the skin from where Joaquin had squeezed. “It was like something grabbed me. Look at these fingerprints, Dad!”

Tom took Kevin’s hand, gazing over the fingerprints. They were undeniable. “Kev, I see them, I do, but I honestly don’t know what to say. Is there no other explanation?”

Whilst the two men were talking, Kevin’s ginger tabby cat strolled in. Upon sensing Joaquin’s presence in the room, it hissed loudly, hunching its back and erecting its tail with a hook shape at the end, ears lowered, bearing its claws and fangs at him.

Kevin whipped his head around, noticing the cat looking right at the spot where Joaquin stood and where Kevin had thought something had grabbed him.

Joaquin watched as Kevin’s face deadpanned, his hands dropping to his sides dramatically. “This house is haunted, even the cat is freaking out! If this stuff carries on, I’m moving out- I’ve seen enough movies to know that if I stay here, I’m gonna die. I don’t know what is in this house, but it certainly isn’t me- I’m staying at Veronica’s. Hopefully you’re still alive when I come back.”

Joaquin stormed out of the room, shooting the cat a dirty look as he did so. He’d tried to give Kevin all the signs he could think of to let him know that it was him, and all he’d succeeded in doing was scaring him.

Maybe it was time to give up on him and any hopes he had of the two having one last goodbye.

FOUR

Kevin had become uncomfortably suspicious of his place over the last few weeks, feeling unnerved when his Dad wasn’t home and jumping at every creak or thump that he heard.

He’d never been an open believer of ghosts, but deep down he always thought there might be something, and the events that had unfolded in his quiet Riverdale house had confirmed to him that the paranormal was as real as real could be.

When he’d told Betty, she’d reassured him that he shouldn’t worry- Riverdale’s houses were old and his mind was probably playing tricks on him, but Kevin hadn’t completely bought it and his mind hadn’t even been close to settled. Josie, on the other hand, instantly recommended saging the house- she didn’t want to risk even playing around with the paranormal, especially with Halloween fast approaching, and so Kevin had heeded her advice and bought some sage ready to use tonight to banish whatever it was that was haunting him.

Kevin had gotten home late because of an intense wrestling session after school today, and Josie was due home from school in an hour after her rehearsals had finished, ready to help him cleanse the house of spirits, and so he opted to shower quickly before she got home.

The shower that Kevin decided to run was boiling hot, steaming up the mirror and the windows as he washed his hair and scrubbed his body absentmindedly, wondering what would happen when he saged the house.

Joaquin was sat on the toilet seat, miserable. His attempts at communicating with Kevin thus far had been so unsuccessful that he’d ended up driving the boy away from his own house and making him a nervous wreck.

As he sat in the steamy bathroom, moping whilst Kevin showered and sang show tunes, an idea popped into his head that was going to make or break this entire operation.

He stood up and cautiously approached the mirror, holding his finger a few millimetres away from the glass, a hesitation bubbling away in the pit of his stomach. Kevin was mere minutes away from banishing him from the house forever, and he’d come to realise after all these failed attempts that he was fighting a losing battle.

But he knew that Kevin was always worth fighting for, no matter how tough it was or how high the odds were stacked against him.

Joaquin dragged his finger gracefully down the mirror, grinning as the condensation disappeared under his touch.

Behind him, Kevin shut off the water and slung a towel lazily over his hips, ruffling his hair in another towel as he approached the mirror ready to wipe the condensation away so that he could style his locks into his signature quiff before it dried into a knotted mess.

Just before Kevin could get his hand on the mirror, Joaquin began writing in the condensation.

The preppy teen stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening and mouth falling open as he watched, letter by letter, a message appear on his mirror that made his heart hammer and his chest, neck and face flush red.

In any normal circumstance Kevin would have been out of that bathroom as quickly as he could, ready to move out and call in professional poltergeist hunters, but suddenly in his mind the pieces began to come together.

Their show, his jacket, the squeezes on his hand and now the message on his mirror that spelt out ‘Preppy’ with a crooked love heart at the end.

It had to be Joaquin.

It just had to be the boy he’d lost all those months ago without a goodbye, the one he’d spent nights tossing and turning about; the one he loved with a fervency that made his heart feel like a hand grenade ready to explode.

“Joaquin?” Kevin asked timidly, looking around the bathroom as the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck prickled.

Joaquin took Kevin’s hand, squeezing it three times to try again to let him know that it was him. Almost instantly a stress rolled off of Kevin’s shoulders, a smile quirking at the end of his lips as his eyes became glassy and his chin began to quiver.

“It’s been you this whole time- you scared me half to death!” A breathless laugh rolled from both boys. Although Kevin couldn’t see Joaquin, he felt whole again for the first time in months, and like for the first time since Joaquin had died, he was Kevin Keller again. “God, I missed you. We never got to say goodbye.”

Joaquin’s gaze dropped to the ground, not finding the strength within him to look at Kevin’s face which was a dichotomous mixture of hope and grief. Sure, he hadn’t intended to just die, but he hadn’t made the effort to connect with Kevin sooner and for that he felt guilty.

With his free hand, Joaquin reached towards the mirror and wrote a simple message to Kevin, telling him that he loved him, before draping his arm around shoulder, pulling him in for a hug.

“And I love you,” Kevin whispered, voice catching in his throat. This was everything Kevin had been secretly wishing would happen deep down. All he’d ever wanted was a goodbye, one more moment with Joaquin, and he never thought it would ever be possible. “I literally can’t even explain how happy I am right now. But, as much as I want you to stay, you need to be at rest- you can’t be here, trapped in this godforsaken town after what it did to you. Please, Joaquin, go and be free, put your soul to rest somewhere. You deserve to be at peace.”

Joaquin smiled sadly, reaching up to wipe Kevin’s tearful face. Letting Joaquin go for a second time was even harder than the first, but they both knew this was the goodbye that would afford both of them a closure that they’d never been able to achieve before.

Joaquin scribbled a quick love heart on the mirror, carefully writing their initials underneath in his best handwriting. Kevin added a smaller heart next to it, a fond smile enveloping his face as he realised what was happening.

“Goodbye, my beautiful ghost boy. I may not see you again in this life, but I hope to see you again in the next.”

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Third Shift, Part 1

I'm still plugging away on the story I started for Robert's birthday, but here's everything up to the smut, which is halfway written. Please excuse any errors. ☺️ More tonight, I hope! It takes place on Robert's 21st birthday, in 1969, a day during which Zeppelin performed 2 shows virtually back to back.

Shout out to Robert, as always, for being the best muse I could've asked for. Happy birthday, sir. 🙌🏽🎁🎂❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good evening, Schenectady! The birthday boy is here!" Robert proclaimed loudly to no one in particular as he entered. The locals, rough-looking men who could appreciate what amounted to a truck stop stripper bar, suspiciously eyed the willowy hippie dandy with the British accent who bounded through the sea of wooden tables. Before the blue-collar men could return to their drinks they noticed the rest of the boy's long-haired entourage, and a chorus of grumbles and groans filled the room.

"He needs those birthday punches sooner than later," muttered Bonzo, watching his friend, in his birthday oblivion, blissfully ignorant to the bar's shifting mood. "I know I can give 'im as good as that American roadie tosser did me for my 21st."

As the rest of the band and Cole found an open table, Robert breezed his way to the bar between two men who were nursing large mugs of beer and lost in a heated conversation about the year's prospects for the New York Jets.

"Look at this long-haired freak," said the man wearing a Jets hat. "Kids got no respect for themselves today, I tell ya. No respect for themselves or this fine country."

Robert almost pointed out that he was from England, but thought better of it. A bar brawl and physical damage to his angel face would not help him win the hearts of any local girls.

The thought vanished quickly from his mind. He was too high to care after successful back to back shows that night, his revelry for his milestone 21st birthday, and a long swallow of whiskey in the car. Besides, he'd heard every negative comment about his hair and his clothes before.

"Oi love," he called loudly at the back of the bartender, who was restocking bottles of vodka and whiskey. No top-shelf brands, Robert noticed disdainfully, having acquired taste in this area under the tutelage of Cole. "A pint for the birthday boy, please?" He'd never met a beer or a cider he didn't like and figured it would be a safe bet.

"A pint of what?" she said without turning around.

"Ah, fuck," he said, quickly flashing an apologetic smile when the men at his sides whipped their heads toward him to deliver severe scowls. "America... Right. A beer, love, please? And it really is my birthday."

"Happy birthday, Mr. Out of Town," she said with sarcasm, moody from the high of catching Zeppelin's early show that night followed by the lows of the regulars' crude come-ons. "We've only got domestic," she continued. "I hope that's good enough for you."

She finally turned around and gasped. "You're the guy from Led Zeppelin, aren't you?"

"Robert Plant's the name." His smile, with its luminous, hypnotic quality, dissolved her shock and revved her desire. He liked the reaction he usually got from his smile, but he hoped that people would remember his name soon.

"Hey, you were at the first show, yeah? Front row, jean shorts, tight little T-shirt?" Somehow his smile became more intense, magnetic enough to make her face flush and her breath catch.

"You saw me?" She filled the mug with beer, higher to the top than usual, in direct defiance to her uncle's strict instructions.

Robert thanked her and sipped the beer she sat before him. He sighed. "Fine American lager, this is."

"Don't tell my uncle, but it's our best, and it's on the house for you, birthday boy."

Robert grinned broadly. "To answer your question," he said, then took another sip, "I would've been blind to not have noticed you. I couldn't resist your stare and you're, uh, rather lovely… Even now, in your work outfit."

She knew her work t-shirt was stained from a beer mug she had knocked over earlier. There was nothing she could do about that, so she toyed with her hair instead, finding a stray lock to tuck behind her ear. "Well, then, please tell me you're the prince who has come to whisk me away from all this." She waved her hands at the backs of men who might have been star high school football players in their heyday but were now graying or balding men, or both, with expanding waistlines and protracted bad moods. She rolled her eyes.

"I, uh, could be, if you want… For tonight, anyway."

"I don't get off until 2, though. Are you really going to stick around here until then?"

Robert looked around sheepishly. He knew Cole's skin must've been crawling, and he'd also heard whispers about more strippers visiting the hotel for him. "I…"

"Fucking hell, Robert, did you forget about us at the table, matey? Too busy chatting up a bird? We've eaten all the peanuts we can stand, you wanker. Get us some bloody beers, too!"

"Sorry, Bonzo," Robert said, without turning around. "Four more beers for the band and our road mom, please."

"I think you're right… We won't be closing your bar down, sweet. I think they have another surprise for me at the hotel." He gave her a puppy dog frown while she poured more beers. His wide-eyed stare went overcast in a way that he surely knew would be irresistible.

The more she stared into the depths of his stormy blue eyes, the more his gaze seemed to issue a dare. A barely perceptible upturn of his lips was the only clue that she wasn't imagining things.

She batted her eyelids and offered a similar sliver of a smile. His challenge had been accepted. "What a shame… But, you know, I have another idea…" She grabbed the strings that weighed down the corners of his shirt's V-neck opening and pulled him closer.

Robert didn't need another hint. He purred as the softness of her lips met his. Then he smirked inwardly as his tongue effortlessly teased her lips apart and swirled in her mouth with a tantalizing churn. He witnessed her bravado buckling under the heat of his kiss.

Her hands migrated to his mop of large curls as he gently grasped her shoulders. The two men seated in front of her groused and said it was time to get better seats for the show anyway. She knew they were the only ones who would care about her spectacle with Robert after having their space invaded; everyone else was too drunk or lost in conversation to care.

She eventually pulled away. She was fearful that her uncle would see her, as he was due in at any minute.

Her breathing went shallow and her heart began to race, but she found her voice somehow. "The show will be starting soon. When it does, meet me outside. I'll be on my break. You came in a car, right?"

"That I did, darlin'. A car that no one will be using during the show… Ah! An angel's face and a devil's mind. A combination I love."

She smiled. "Oh, Robert? One more thing…"

"Sure," he said without a clue of what she was going to say.

"Let's see your bartending skills… Don't forget the beers," she said, gesturing to the full tray before her.

"Barkeep! I thought you'd never come!" Cole clapped Robert on the back as he sat the tray down. Robert breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that all the drinks made it to the table without one drop spilled.

"Lovely new friend you have there��" Jimmy offered before trailing off. He eyed the beer suspiciously before pushing it away from him. "I'm going to pass."

"Now, now, Pagey, you'll need it for a tick while we toast Robert," Bonzo chided. "And then you can give it to me."

Robert had finished his drink but raised his empty mug for the toast, as did Jonesy and the rest.

"Right. Percy, my mate, you wiggled your ass into something great for both of us. I am forever grateful that you thought of me for the New Yardbirds, as it were. There's a matter of a petrol bill to settle still, but let's forget about that for now, yeah? I'm glad we're on this ride together. Before we all say cheers, just know that I plan to dole out your birthday punches when you least expect it. Twenty-one of 'em. Jonesy will count to keep us honest."

"Anyway," he said, looking over at Robert, "Happy 21st birthday, Robert. Chin chin."

Everyone touched glasses. Everyone with beer took a sip, Jimmy included. Robert took a healthy swallow of Jimmy's beer before passing it over to Bonzo. As much as Robert wanted another pint, he knew he wanted to be as alert as he could for the bartender and their rendezvous.

***

The entertainment was announced, and Robert rose from the table.

"And just where the fuck are you going?" Cole glared as Robert pushed his chair under the table. "You're the only reason we're here right now."

"I'd say it's safe to wager that Robert has made plans for private entertainment," Jimmy commented.

"The bartender," echoed Jonesy.

"You mean you don't want to witness the finest strippers that upstate New York has to offer?" On with you, then." Cole waved a dismissive hand and lit a cigarette.

"May I borrow the car keys?" Robert asked Cole, while his eyes pleaded even more.

"Here."

Robert caught the keys as they hurtled through the air in the general direction of his head.

"And don't drink all the whiskey with your lady friend!"

Robert bowed, tipped an invisible hat to Cole, and then walked briskly to the door.

"Hmmm… I may have spoken too soon about the quality of Schenectady's strippers…" Cole exchanged glances with the rest of the band as a voluptuous blonde took center stage and waited, with her hands on her hips, for the music to start. "My sincerest apologies, greater New York." Cole whistled loudly and turned his chair completely toward the stage.

[auskultu]

POPS GROOVE, CRY FOR MORE!

Robert & Joanalee Hurwitt, Berkeley Barb, 23 June 1967

“Life didn't get in but the Berkeley BARB did,” Derek Taylor, publicity director for the Monterey International Pop Festival, told a press conference on the Monterey fairgrounds Saturday afternoon.

The audience cheered.

Taylor was commenting on complaints from the press that their press passes were useless for getting in to watch the concerts.

BARB, knowing that most of the press deserves to be hassled, found it easy to scam front row seats for every concert. The “big" press, we were pleased to note, were the only people hassled.

TREMENDOUS The first (annual?) International Pop Festival was a tremendous success.

At the last minute most of the anticipated problems were resolved and resolved well. The Grateful Dead and Chet Helms managed to get Monterey Peninsula College to open up its football field for camping. Such groups as Country Joe and the Fish and Eric Burdon and the Animals performed free into the early morning hours. The Festival opened up its parking lots and the fairground itself for camping.

Everywhere you looked beautiful people were in the majority, from the arcade (representing every craft necessary to manufacture instant hippies) to the streets outside.

The cops seemed to decrease in number and increase in politeness from day to day.

FANTASTIC And the concerts were fantastic—to the point of being difficult to describe accurately. It is even difficult to talk about the highlights, there were so many outstanding performances crowded into such a short space of time.

Friday evening started with The Association, lively although a bit sloppy. They were followed by a young group from Canada, The Paupers. There are four Paupers, three play drums and three play guitars and they produce a wild sound. How did they get that turned on in Canada? Their last number ended with a terrific bass guitar solo by Denny Gerrard, completely unplanned, he told BARB later.

The Paupers were followed by Lou Rawls, sho sang some great blues but turned us off with a medley of less inspired works (eg: “When I Was Seventeen”). He was followed by Beverly, a British folksinger with a good voice and stage fright, and the gray soul of Johnny Rivers. The bill was topped with Eric Burdon and the Animals and Simon and Garfunkel.

The Animals have developed a frighteningly intense and complex electronic style. Their “Gin House Blues” (“dedicated to Bacchus—a song of the past”) was enough to make one swear off state-sanctioned narcotics forever, and they followed it with a version of “Paint it Black” (with an electric violin intro that made the Rolling Stones sound tame.)

Simon and Garfunkel topped off the evening in a beautiful relaxed manner—two choirboy manner—two choirboy voices and one (nonelectric) guitar and they completely captivated the audience. Their performance can only be described as magic.

BAY BANDS Saturday was fairly dominated by Bay Area Bands, with Big Brother and the Holding Company, Country Joe and the Fish, The Quicksilver Messenger Service, and The Steve Miller Blues Band performing in the afternoon and Moby Grape and The Jefferson Airplane in the evening. Janice Joplin, of Big Brother, brought the house down belting out blues with her magnificent voce.

Country Joe, too, gave an excellent performance which included an LSD commercial and ended with “The Vietnam Rag”. Mama Cass, seated behind us, exclaimed, “Who else has guts like that?"

But it’s not just guts that makes Joe so exciting. His music, as Al Kooper pointed out to BARB, is extremely complex.

Kooper, Canned Heat (a sloppy L.A. blues group), Paul Butterfield and Mike Bloomfield filled out the Saturday afternoon bill.

Tall thin Al Kooper, formerly with The Blues Project (he left because of a nervous breakdown, he told BARB, and because he couldn’t keep up with their pace, “I’m just a skinny sort of guy.”) played two of his arrangements beautifully, but “Wake Me, Shake Me” simply needs more than one voice.

Butterfield’s performances were, both that afternoon and again in the evening, were magnificent, far surpassing even his recordings.

Mike Bloomfield’s new group The Electric Flag, climaxed the afternoon’s performance (the program seemed a little heavy on blues groups) and got a reception that seems to insure them of continued success.

NUMB By evening we were almost numbed to anything except outstanding performances. Aside from Butterfield, the only really outstanding performance was Otis Redding’s. Otis was king. He came on in bright red with a driving rhythm and tore the place apart. Kids were dancing all over the arena, making muddy air out of the dust and fog.

The rest of that evening’s program included Hugh Masadela (who wasn’t up to his small club performances), Laura Nyro (whom we could have done without), Booker T. and the M.C.’s. (almost unnoticeable, but they provided Otis with his background), and the Byrds.

POLITICS The Byrds must be a studio group. Their live performances just don’t come up to their recordings. But David Crosby, leader of the group, felt he had some social commitments to fulfill after Country Joe, and spoke out more politically than did any other performer.

After concurring with Paul McCartney’s recent statement that LSD could end war if ingested by the proper authorities, he went on to say, “The TV will edit this out, like they’ll cut all the groovy things Country Joe said, but Pm gonna say it anyway. John F. Kennedy was shot from a number of different directions by a number of different guns. The facts have been suppressed, witnesses killed—and this is your country, ladies and gentlemen.”

CHANCRE Sunday afternoon’s Ravi Shanker concert (pronounced chancre over the PA) was probably the outstanding event of the festival. It was more than his music. He got a reception that exceeded anything given any of the other performers and the love and respect seemed mutual.

Sunday evening brought the festival to a close with the audience still crying for more. The Blues Project led off, dedicating “Flute Thing” “as always to peace and an end to this dirty and dishonorable war.” Their new group doesn’t seem quite to have gotten together yet, though they have great potential. Right now they sound like they’re doing somebody else’s songs.

They were followed by the low point of the festival, The Group with No Name, a group of middle-aged teenyboppers. A list of suggested names immediately went the rounds of the press area: The Bummer, The Mistake, The Shits.

Big Brother did another fine set, and The Buffalo Springfield (with David Crosby) and The Grateful Dead both performed well, but the The Who and The Jimmy Hendrix Experience were outstanding.

The Who are more than great musicians they put on one hell of a show which climaxes with the group destroying drums, guitars, mikes, lights and the stage in general and brought perplexed and angry stagehands running from the wings to salvage what equipment they could.

But even this was topped by Jimmy Hendrix. Hendrix, too, is a fine musician, working with a beautiful blues voice and exotically complex-electronics. He plays absolutely every part of the guitar with every part of his body, and to the extent that he resorts to gimmickry (playing with his teeth and behind his back) it only seems to further demonstrate his complete control over his instrument.

He closed the “the English and American anthems combined," a wild electronic version of “Wild Thing," during which he humped his guitar into the amps and tore everything apart all over again, burning his guitar and throwing the pieces into an audience which was climbing all over itself just to get a look.

Then the evening and the festival closed with the vocal magic of the Mamas and the Papas and the fairgrounds were still.

After all this I still find it difficult to sum the festival up. It was excellent, the best that could be done within its form.

Perhaps the program could have been more inclusive—there were no Motown groups and it would have been good to include some of the older practitioners like Chuck Berry. But this was just the first such festival and others may broaden the scope.

Most of the participants couldn’t have had a better time. Acid was passed out freely, making it relatively easy to get past the ushers for most of the performances. The quality of the music was overwhelming. The light show was excellent (Head Lights).

And throughout the festival people were dancing all over the fairgrounds. The music could be heard as far away as Pacific Grove, and, as Tommy Smothers said, introducing Big Brother, “The hills are always greener on the other side of the grass.”

[annalysapostmaria-blog]

Good news and bad news

About a week post Maria we were (and are still) out of water, power, and cell service. Being used to frequent power and water outages, we were still doing alright. However, ice became non existent and everything in the fridge had spoiled.

When tropical afternoon storms roll over us, we quickly get swim suits on and shower in the rain. Running around the yard to keep warm. Buckets and trash cans fill our yard to collect rainwater for cleaning and flushing toilets. When the rain stopped unexpectedly, Javi cursed the sky. Still lathered up with soap and no more water to rinse. It was weird that so many neighbors could see right into our property now, but there's nothing to be embarrassed over. Everyone is taking rain showers these days!

Gas lines were 8 hours long or more! Some people waiting the full 8 hours just to be told the station was out of gas and didn't know when they would be receiving more. Javi and I still had half a tank but we were cutting back on the driving. This meant we would go visit his parents one last time until we were able to find more gas.

As usual we were delighted to see his parents. I asked Mama Zulma if it was possible to use the neighbor's landline to call my family again. Still haven't hearing a word from them since our first phone call. She responded with the worst news that the landline was down. We still went over and I tried every number I knew! Nothing. I wanted to talk to my mom so badly but with her being out of the country at the time I knew she would be difficult to reach. We returned to Javi's parents house and played board games together to pass the time. As Javi and I were leaving I begged him to pull over to the neighbor's house to try and use the phone one last time. It was my only chance of talking to them for God knows how long! Once again I heard nothing but an annoying dail tone of a failed call. One last try. I punched in Katie's number and finally a ring. When she answered I could have burst into tears of relief but I tried to hold back so she wouldn't worry.

She had good news and bad. The wonderful news was she had started a fund for Javi and I so we could survive while we were completely out of work. She shared some amazing comments left from friends and family who were concerned and sending love. Javi and I would never ask on our own but with no money coming in and banks unavailable we weren't sure how we were going to make it. We are beyond grateful and thank you so much to people who donated. We absolutely promise to pay it forward and do everything in our power to help people who need it more than us. This was so comforting during such a hard time and made us feel safe to know we are surrounded with love from such amazing humans.

The horrible news Katie was regretting to tell me was that our grandmother who we call "Lady GaGa" was dying of cancer. My heart collapsed with my head into my lap. We sat on the phone crying.

She 3 way called her parent's home, scared to loose the call if we hung up. The phone was passed from my auntie, then to my dad. After so long, I wished him happy birthday and we tried to catch up as quickly as we could forgetting everything we planned to ask each other while we awaited this call. I demanded to speak to Lady GaGa and he rushed me to her bedside. "Hello, Darling." She said in her lovely British accent. It was so good to hear her in good spirit although I could hear tiredness in her voice. I asked if she had received the post card I sent out before the storm., trying to keep a steady voice from breaking into tears. Turning the conversation to excitement, she said she loved it and cursed herself for forgetting to send out the response card. I reassured her in a joking manner that it wasn't her fault. "The card wouldn't have made it anyway, our ports and airports aren't even working anymore." She laughed a little. I soaked it in. She told me Puerto Rico was usually safe from hurricanes because of the mountains. Knowing what she was talking about having lived in San Juan with my Pop Pop while he was stationed there as an aircraft engineer early in their marriage. Even having her first 2 babies (my aunties) born on the island! She apologized for being out of breath and said her last words "miss you, love" before handing the phone back to my dad. I couldn't stop telling her I love you. I love you. I love you.

We headed home without a plan to return to Mayagüez since we were on about a quarter tank. I prayed for GaGa and my family. With gas being in such short supply the lines remained, Javi and I decided to bite the bullet and wait in line. We invited my two best friends, Jim and Christy, to make the best out of the situation.

With books and snacks we followed each other to the back of the line about 80 cars away. Not bad! The sun was just starting to come up and the gas station wasn't even opening for another hour or so. Cars lining up behind us until we could no longer see around the curve of the road. We sat on the top of Javis jeep and watched the sun come up over the mountain, lighting up the valley, making roosters crow, and showing us the damage of Maria's winds. We slowly snaked our way up the hill to our final destination at the top! We were only allowed $30 of gas in each car which was great, having heard the limit was $20.

Still having no phone service pushes you to constantly check in on people. We are so used to texting or calling in advanced but in our case you just show up whether you like it or not! It forces people to physically be there for each other and I love it!

On a routine check in with my friends, Jim and Christy, we saw the first glimpse of phone signal. I immediately called my dad and I heard a big greeting from all of my family members echoing off the walls of the home I know so well. I could even tell you where each person was sitting in our family room. I was passed around sending and receiving love to everyone. When passed back to my dad he broke down and told me Ga Ga had passed away the night before and they were all together by her side during her last moments. My dad had just lost his mom and his daughter was unreachable. My heart broke and I wept for him and GaGa. I would have done anything to be with them. She was such a wonderful woman, even her slogan was "the perfect Grandma". Everything she did was perfect. Details to perfection. I'll always admire her strength and ability to love her family unconditionally. I wish I could have held on to her forever, however I know how she's thrilled to be with the love of her life again. Pop-Pop and Ga-Ga, you are my Caribbean idols and I hope I can instill the lessons you've taught me into my future family. I love you both, forever and always.

I said good bye to my sweet family and just like that, our signal was out again. I'm so blessed I was with Javi, Jim and Christy when I received this horrible news. They comforted me and made sure I knew I wasn't alone through this hard time.

[mavwrekmarketing]

Image copyright Getty Images

As the survivors of Grenfell Tower will be finding out, rebuilding your life when you’ve lost everything takes a while. After the initial shock wears off, and you’re left with nothing – literally nothing – what do you do?

There are both practical and emotional hurdles to overcome. Three people to whom it has happened have spoken to the BBC.

Maria De Vita

Image caption Maria De Vita’s neighbour died in the fire

When Maria De Vita heard glass smashing at her home in Princes Risborough, Buckinghamshire, she thought it was someone outside doing a spot of late-night recycling. She later discovered it was one of next door’s windows exploding in a fire in which her neighbour died.

Ms De Vita woke her two young daughters and they left the house with nothing. The girls even had to go to school the next day dressed only in their pyjamas.

“The school was so kind, they gave them some spare bits of uniform,” says Ms De Vita, who did not have any contents insurance.

“Everything has gone. Just gone. We’ll have to start from the beginning again.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m very appreciative of the fact we’re all here and alive. But dealing with the aftermath is horrendous.

“We stayed with various friends for a bit, and now I’ve got housing benefit and we’re in a B&B 40 miles away from our hometown. It would take the kids four hours each way to get to school, so they’re not going at the moment.

“We’re staying in a quite a rough area and my kids were threatened when I took them to the park, so we don’t want to go out. They’ve both been affected. They’re clingy, and we can’t talk about the fire as it upsets them so much. They have taken to calling it ‘erif’ – which is ‘fire’ backwards – and can’t speak the word fire aloud.

“I suppose we’re managing because we have no choice, but to be honest, we’re struggling. We will make it but I can’t yet see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“People have been so generous – one lady offered me a sofa – but because we don’t have anywhere to live I have to turn down offers of help.

“On the one hand, it’s restored my faith in humanity, but then I have to reject their kindness.

“All I want is to go home.”

Psychological Analysis

Image copyright Getty Images

Our homes and belongings tell the story of who we are, where we’ve been, and the people we love.

Research into the psychology of ownership has shown that we come to see our possessions as extensions of ourselves. We place more value in something just as soon as we own it, and at a neural level, when we think about our stuff, the same regions light up in our brains as when we think about ourselves.

Although it may seem trivial to worry about physical objects in the context of such a tragic loss of human life, when disaster survivors lose their homes and belongings, they often experience a profound sense of personal bereavement, as if a part of their “selves”, their identity, their story, has gone forever.

This is especially likely to be the case for any possessions that have come to be imbued with personal meaning, such as gifts received from loved ones, items acquired on cherished holidays, or family heirlooms.

Indeed, part of the reason that many of our things mean so much to us is that we think about them in an almost magical way – for instance a gift from a loved one may feel as if it is imbued with the essence of that person, such that a physical replica would be no substitute.

This magical thinking may also apply to the home itself, especially if it is filled with poignant memories of family events that have taken place there.

Dr Christian Jarrett, editor of the British Psychological Society’s Research Digest

Michelle Drew

Image copyright Michelle Drew

Michelle Drew’s home in Bath went up in flames in May. She was in her house with her three children when a fire started in her autistic son’s sensory tent. The fire spread to the nearby sofa and blind, across the living room and eventually the whole house.

She and the children all escaped the fire without physical injury but lost all of their possessions.

“We just had the clothes were were standing in,” Mrs Drew says. “We didn’t even have shoes on. I just stood outside the house and watched the fire go up through the roof.

“We were without anything. We lost our home. We had nowhere to live.”

Fortunately, the family had insurance, but until some money was released, they made do with what other people gave them and lived with friends and family.

Valuables such as jewellery and her husband’s extensive film collection were destroyed, along with sentimental items including a hospital scan of a pregnancy that ended in miscarriage.

But the main impact has been on the children.

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Media captionWatch: Michelle Drew returned to the scene of the fire

“With autism, routine and ritual is so important. My son really had problems dealing with any changes. I mean, he couldn’t cope with having a new pair of shoes and here we were telling him he’s got a new house and all of his clothes and toys are gone. He’s really feeling the effects of it – it’s chaos.

“We’re in a new home now but he’s still suffering – he’s badly behaved, has sensory problems and is really destructive. But everyone’s been really great, his school has been really helpful.

“My youngest daughter has hypermobility syndrome and has difficulty getting about – and someone gave us a pushchair. My other daughter needed asthma medication and the head teacher of her school came and opened up especially so we could get the medicine from the supply she keeps at school.”

Mrs Drew says it took a couple of weeks for the impact to hit her: “The reality of what could have happened is terrifying. I’m just grateful my kids are alive.”

Does she have any advice for people who may find themselves in a similar situation?

“Surround yourself with people who care about you. Concentrate on what you’ve got. Try not to think of what you’ve lost, no good will come of that.

“But you know, the thing that will stick with me is the kindness we experienced. Everyone was fantastic. People went out of their way to help, not just on the day it happened but for weeks afterwards.”

Martin Sigston

Image copyright Getty Images

Image caption People should donate practical items such as toiletries and rucksacks, suggests Martin Sigston

Martin Sigston lost all of his belongings in a fire just before Christmas in 2001.

“There was shock and horror and emptiness. When you see your home on fire it’s partly panic but at the same time you know you can’t do anything.”

When the Grenfell Tower fire happened, he was moved to post some advice on his Facebook page, letting people know the best ways they could help survivors.

Speaking from experience, Mr Sigston pointed out that the things people need are not always obvious.

“It’s a daily grind. You’re trying to organise yourself and you don’t even have basic things like a pen and paper. And you need something to carry it in.

“And there are things you’ve lost that you don’t remember until you need them, and it all really adds up. It sounds silly and petty, but even things like ink cartridges for printers need to be replaced.

“I was insured, but it was still a nightmare. Very difficult. Some of my friends said it could be exciting and a new start. I remember standing in the middle of Ikea and just being too drained, I didn’t know where to begin.

“The thing is, I didn’t want new furniture or a big TV. I just wanted my own stuff.

“It’s like being bereaved. You don’t actually get over it but you learn to live with it. It’s a long slog, but it does get easier.

“If anyone was in my position I’d say: ‘Just let it go, It’s gone.

“It’s really tough but you’ll get there’.”

Image copyright Martin Sigston

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