#dan is me if I was let loose in california

[troubldteenz]

DAN VS AND THE STANLEY PARABLE?????? OMG CAN WE BE FRIENDS

why not :3

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Banter (2) Masterlist

part one

50 notes to unbox (ao3) - dylaesthetics

Summary: Dan moves out of his parent's home to start university and his older lifelong best friend Phil is rather an efficient help when it comes to helping Dan unpack, as well as a regular visitor of Dan's studio. What happens when Phil stumbles upon Dan's piggy bank for university savings he crafted as a child and finds it a new purpose? What happens when the truth comes out when it's so needed?

OR an overly cute, long and coming of age multiple part one shot you better read now.

April Fools Fic (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: This whole thing started out as a joke. Phil hadn’t meant any harm. He just wanted Dan to know that he could also pull a cheeky prank..

behind the curtain (ao3) - resurrectdead

Summary: Dan adores pink and is playing Satine in the school production of Moulin Rouge. Phil cherishes black and just happens to be good at doing some bombass makeup. Fate brings them together.

Bury Your Flame (ao3) - worriedpeach (skeletonflowers)

Summary: After receiving a dragon egg when his grandfather passed away, Phil is forced to ask for help from the local dragon tamer. As he soon finds out, Dan Howell is nothing he’s been expecting. Infuriating, ludicrous, and completely lacking respect, Dan is everything Phil hates. But Phil will do anything to make his grandfather proud, even if that means getting help from the local cluck.

Dungaree Sex (A Valentines Day Fic) (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: Dan realized that breaking up with Phil was a terrible mistake. Valentines Day was coming up again and he still loved his ex. But of course, with Dan's luck, he was about to open his mouth and tell Phil about his revelation, when Phil blurted out that he had met someone else. (Taking place right after the Pastel Edits IRL video.)

Ever Read A Fanfic Like That? (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: He might be drunk, but he knew a bad idea when he heard it. He wasn’t going to let his best friend read a smutty fic to him like some bloody bedtime story. He remembered the Tumblr tag video and even that was too much...

Jealousy in a Less Obvious Form (ao3) - razortotherozary

Summary: Phil looked at his door briefly and then back at the camera. "Also," he said, pausing for a few seconds and taking another big breath. "I'm in love with someone. Though, they don't know it." Phil looked slightly sad in this moment, glancing at the ground. "And they'd hate me forever if they found out."

Maybe I miss you (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Phil leaves Dan for several months to temporarily live in New York City and work on a movie set.

The distance between them drove them both insane, but neither of them could voice the reason why.

When Dan comes to visit Phil in New York his feelings are threatened to spill after an encounter with one of Phil's new friends, but he keeps lying- to both Phil and himself.

Hopefully he can eventually tell the truth, because Phil gets another long-term job opportunity in California and Dan can't take any more distance.

Missing (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: "So we have a new update on the serial killer running loose around London-" Dan turns the tv off, he didn't want to hear anymore. He just wanted Phil back home, safe and sound.

My Shipwrecked Heart (ao3) - outphan

Summary: After his heart gets broken, Dan Howell decides to chase one of his dreams: he enters a competition to go on a Mediterranean cruise! It comes true and along the way, something even better happens.

Pretty Tough (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil’s a special agent. Dan's a model. Under normal circumanstances, they would never collide. But one day, Phil gets the model in trouble and has to keep him safe.

REAL hugs are coming (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Anonymous asked: I'm sending REAL hugs. B prepared. They are coming! danisnotonfire answered: thank u

Dan confessed to his online friend that he was really craving a hug but he most certainly didn’t expect to find a kind and handsome stranger suddenly standing outside of his door.

snuggle up close, let me hold your pieces in place, even if just for a night (ao3) - natigail

Summary: It was just one thing after another really.

Broken down bus with a whole class of freshers. Dingy hotel room that was cold as fuck. No one wanting to share a room with Dan.

But then the TA Phil stepped up to the plate and defended Dan. Of course, it meant that the two of them ended up sharing a bed, and then the heater had to break. It's the perfect excuse for sharing body warmth and confessions.

Special Delivery (ao3) - phantasticworks (steddieworks)

Summary: Dan Howell receives a package he definitely didn't order, but the man who did order it is... well, he's rather interesting. And the object he's ordered... well, it's odd, to say the least.

The 5 Year Plan (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: After a string of heartbreaks and meaningless hookups with other people Dan and Phil make a pact.

If they aren’t settled down with anyone in five years they’ll get married to each other.

Unnatural Selection (ao3) - PetalsandPhan (orphan_account)

Summary: Prince Phillip has never had a friend in his life. Controlled by his father, Phil is forced into going on a difficult journey to find the hidden princess. But when Phil is accompanied by the servant Dan, will their friendship blossom into something more, something forbidden and unheard of?

[the-firebird69]

We do not have time for all this rigmarole and hoopla and dumb s*** that you do Trump we don't have time to listen to you even a look at you and your dumb stuff you put on the stupid internet where it war and you are just a huge distraction and your own people are dying faster than anyone else and you're distracting them from their job and you don't have robots like you say I'm sick of you I don't even want to hear the response I don't mind to hear what I'm thinking

Bg

We do hear it and we think the same thing this guy is a moron and a coward and he's ruined a lot of what we're doing and we might not have anywhere to go we have to stop him

Crissy

Tell you what I've heard you for a while and I've been looking into it and I have evidence that shows that Trump has done us in all over the damn place and not just his own

Bja

I don't know what the hell this means you got this movie death race and you got like all of us as prisoners and you're making the malls and trying to poison what we think is everybody up there and it'll be just your guys who are up there too so I don't know what the hell that's supposed to be and why would you have death race stuff so it looks like you want to poison a whole bunch of people and then let us loose with nuclear weapons in their trunk and that made as people try to get there but what for and he says it's way up in Canada it's up the river but it sounds like he's clearing or trying to clear an entrance to take the necromonger ships. He wants to pretend he's George and George was just recently contacted on Mars were after you because your such a jerk

Bja and yeah I can't stand you you're so stupid and annoying you're not even a human

A lot of your decisions is what is the wrong way Trump you no longer are a leader

Woody harelson

I can't believe how stupid you are and what you're saying right now proves it from a group is going to separate now and what inspired others and we are all going to be one group and yeah we know who we are you idiot

Malory harolson

Even go to war with you Trump I'm sick of you and your goon squad picking me up and you can see it in the movie and what you're doing it doesn't make sense no it does but your message doesn't make sense he said these people are all top level g********** some of them from California and their head honchos too there and I don't believe you're taking on these guys exactly the daily the game makers could come up to any one of us I don't know what the hell they're on and they're not clones he has to get the hell out of here and stay out of here stop picking on my kids

Dan

You don't like you Trump we want you out of here and you're not listening and we're going to have to go after you right now

Tommy f

Our son is correct this guy has to leave but Tommy f has to leave too both of them are very unsettling characters and bothersome and they're both pesky b****** you'll light up Tommy after the ex the same way it is going to start doing it soon. Right now they're taking measures to pursue you tell me if Tommy f and they also planning to get Trump out of here at the same time they don't want to hear from you too goofballs not to mention every few minutes you're disgustingly stupid and if a crude and acquired more enemies then you have had for a long time yet. You made new ones everywhere. Are you going up to Canada shortly and to take over a desolate Island they're going to name you as a criminal and they don't want you there and they're going to detect your building nuclear devices and will raid your little Island. It was already said if you step foot up there and they're going to go after you and yours and destroy you attack you continuously and the french moved in and they mean business. There's a lot of people who can't stand you and there's more of them coming in so Charlotte county and they're going to get you out of here and you need to leave they even asked and told by us so many times it was ridiculous but you've been killed just as many times as that has occurred.

We're going to need you out of here pretty soon and you don't know why but we do and something about what Jen said he sees how we relate and we don't want that no that's not it, we need you in what Dave told you and stuff he was showing you and we need you right now and we're going to come get you.

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues

And no it's not about my husband being bad you people are stupid it's actually funny you're so dumb

Hera

[antiadvil]

Sparks Fly

Summary: Dan and Phil’s vacation after Vidcon is going well, until a mistake from Phil sets the whole thing up in flames. Rating: PG-13 wc: ~2.2k A/N: written for the @phandomreversebang! Shoutout to my team ( @schnaphan as the talented artist and @catboydan as my incredibly tolerant beta who did not mind me getting the fic done a day before posting) for being incredibly helpful and supportive of the weird direction I decided to take a “sparks fly” prompt in. You can see @schnaphan’s art here.

Read on ao3 or beneath the cut.

Phil was proud of this one. An airbnb cabin, far away enough from the rest of the world that they would get some space to themselves for once, but close enough to civilization that it had broadband internet. The perfect place to wind down together after Vidcon. He stretched his feet out onto the glossy wooden coffee table and turned another page, trying to focus on his book.

“Ah!” Dan jumped back a bit as he entered the living room. “Did we really need to keep the cutout?”

“It’s funny,” Phil insisted. He wasn’t sure what exactly had inspired him to stuff the cardboard cutout of Dan into their suitcases when the man from the convention asked if they wanted to keep it, but it annoyed Dan to see a replica of himself stand in the cabin’s living room, so stand it did.

“It keeps scaring the shit out of me.” Dan glared at it, somewhat resentfully.

“Even better.” Phil attempted a wink.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Just wanted to say I’m tired. Going to bed.”

Phil looked up from his book, trying to suppress his disappointment. “So early?”

“Tired.” Dan leaned over the back of the sofa to try to reach Phil’s face, reaching out with his hands to pull him closer when Phil jokingly pulled away.

“Good night,” Dan said, kissing Phil on the forehead, and then on both cheeks when he pouted. “Do your best to survive without me. You’ll have your book to keep you company. Very intellectual.”

Phil rolled his eyes, turning back to his (somewhat trashy) horror novel. “Good night. Sleep well.” It was good that Dan was going to bed early, probably, he hadn’t been sleeping well recently. Hopefully he’d be able to catch up on some sleep tonight and feel better.

The cottage was quieter than Phil expected with Dan in bed in the other room. It was a bit eerie, so far away from the rest of the world, alone in the woods, and Phil found scenes from the axe murderer horror novel in his hand flitting through his head a bit more vividly than he would have liked.

He needed something to calm him down, ground him, and he remembered from the advice he had absorbed through Dan’s therapist. A scented candle, maybe? It would be cozy and warm, and you never saw scented candles in books about axe murderers. There were scented candles already provided on the coffee table, he’d just have to find the matches.

There were probably some in the kitchen. He stood up and moved to the kitchen, searching the cabinet until he found the matches. He struck one, absentmindedly, before remembering the candle was in the other room. The flame was already flickering down—he didn’t have long to get there before it burnt out.

His resolve strengthening him, he summoned extra reserves of strength from deep within him to start a sprint back towards the living room. He was just rounding the corner when he noticed a human figure looming ahead of him. “Ah!” He jumped slightly before realizing it was just the cutout. God, Dan was right. It was terrifying. He looked for the candle, then paused. The match. Where was the match?

A flickering, growing glow in the corner of his eye answered his question. “Oh fuck,” Phil whispered. “Oh fuck, DAN, oh fuck-” he ran towards their room. “DAN,” he shouted again, swinging the door open.

Dan was sitting up in bed, massaging his head. “What the fuck did you do, Phil?”

“Fire,” Phil managed, “fire!”

He was starting to smell the smoke. Dan must’ve too, because his eyes widened. “Phil, you idiot, we can’t get out this way.”

Dan was sort of right, he supposed, the living room was between their bedroom and both the front and back doors, and a large chunk of it was on fire right now.

“You idiot, you should’ve gotten out.” Dan sounded scared now.

Phil wished he could say he had gone back out of some deep seated need to save Dan, but if he was being honest, it was just instinct at this point to run for Dan every time he made a mess. “It’s fine,” he said, looking around for an exit. The window. Phil silently thanked his past self for booking an Airbnb with only one story.

Dan’s eyes followed Phil’s gaze, and he must’ve had the same thought, because he grabbed Phil’s arm, dragging him over to the window and wrenching it open. “The screen-” Phil said, before Dan let go of his hand to push at it until the screen came loose, falling onto the ground on the other side of the window.

“Come on,” Dan said, swinging a leg over the side. He hopped awkwardly down, dragging his other leg after him. “Come on.”

Phil’s legs seemed to seize up, but with enough of Dan’s tugging he made it over the windowsill, his foot catching and sending him tumbling into the sweetly scented, but somewhat thorny, flowerbed. “Ow,” he muttered, looking at the scratches running their way down his long, pale arms. He found himself staring at them, transfixed, as a single drop of blood welled up and trickled down his arm.

Dan pulled at his arm again. “Phil, move-”

Phil stumbled to his feet and out of the flowerbed, following Dan until they were about 20 feet away from the house, just where the grass turned into woods. Oh god, Phil could just see the headlines about how two British idiots were the cause of the latest California wildfire—

“Call 911,” Dan said, sounding just a little less frantic now that they were out of the house.

Phil patted his pockets, looking for his phone. He found a phone-shaped lump in the left one, and pulled it out, his hands shaking as he tried to pull up the phone icon and type in the numbers. It took him a couple of tries, but he finally got the number in right.

A woman’s cool voice sounded from Phil’s phone speakers. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“Right! Emergency. I’m here with my—um—friend,” Phil said awkwardly. “We’re on vacation, from the UK, well, vacation after a convention—you don’t care about visas, do you?” he said, suddenly remembering Dan’s Bahamas fiasco from a few years ago.

Dan glared at him. “The fire,” he prodded.

“Right!” Phil said. “My house is on fire.”

“Do you have an address?” the woman on the other end asked in the calmest voice Phil had ever heard.

“Address,” Phil motioned to Dan with a gesture he hoped clearly communicated, “get me the address for this airbnb,” but Dan didn’t seem to understand. He just looked confused.

“What?”

“What’s the address of this place?”

“Oh!” Dan said, digging out his phone (Phil was suddenly grateful that neither of them could be separated from their phones for long enough to lose them in an emergency). He stared at his screen anxiously, as if he was waiting for something to load.

When it finally did, he didn’t even read it out loud, just shoved the email in front of Phil’s face so he could read it to the dispatcher.

“Alright, sir, help is on the way,” the woman on the phone said. “Are you and your friend a safe distance from the house?”

Phil looked around. “Um, I think so.”

“Perfect. And there’s no one else in the building? Any pets?”

“No. Just us.”

“We’ll be sending an ambulance around just to check that everyone is alright, just so you know.”

Phil hoped he wouldn’t be charged for that. He missed the NHS. “Okay.”

“I’m just going to need you to sit tight until then, okay? Now, can you answer a few questions about the fire?”

She asked a few vague questions about how the fire started, and Phil was grateful that he didn’t have to actually explain what happened, just say it was an accident. Her questions seemed more designed to keep him on the line and calm him down until the fire truck came than to get any actual answers about the fire from him. Phil tried not to look too hard at the growing flames, glowing in the window.

After a few minutes, he could hear sirens in the distance, and a fire truck and ambulance pulled up in his driveway. A few figures in bulky suits hopped out of the truck, immediately getting to work unrolling a hose and aiming it towards the windows of the living room, where Phil could see flames flickering.

“Right,” a very tall man in firefighter gear strode over to them. “I just have a few questions about how the fire started. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help?”

“You should probably talk to Phil about that, I have to make a few calls,” Dan said, ducking away and patting Phil’s hand before leaving him alone to face his interrogation.

“Yeah,” Phil gulped. “I was there.” He forced himself to look up to make eye contact with the firefighter.

“Right,” the man said, writing something in a notepad. “You saw it start?”

“Yes,” Phil said. “I, uh, was carrying a match.”

The man raised an eyebrow and wrote something down again. “You were carrying a match,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Phil said, finally breaking eye contact. “I was carrying a lit match and I dropped it.”

“Hmmm.” Some more writing. “Why’d you drop it?”

“Well, um, me and my-” Phil hesitated for just a second. “Me and my friend kept this cardboard cutout from this convention we went to, and when I walked back into the living room it startled me and I dropped it.” He didn’t dare look up and risk making eye contact again, but even the other man’s pen scribbling seemed judgemental.

“Right. So then something caught on fire from that?”

“I think it was the carpet. I’m not sure.”

“Well,” the man said, clearing his throat. “You and your friend are lucky you’re safe. I hope you’ve learned to be more careful with matches next time.”

“I have. Sir.” Phil cringed inwardly, hoping it didn’t show on his face. Sir? Was he a child being scolded at school?

The firefighter seemed to accept Phil’s assurance, though, nodding once before turning away and moving back to the truck, just as Dan emerged from the ambulance and jogged over.

“Your turn.” Dan nodded towards the ambulance.

Phil sighed. At least the paramedics probably wouldn’t ask him any questions about how he had managed to start a house fire.

When Phil’s exam was done and he got out of the ambulance, Dan was waiting for him. “I found us a hotel,” he said.

“I love you,” Phil said.

“As you should.”

“What about our stuff?” Phil asked, anxious.

“They let me go in to get our suitcases. Nothing else, though I’m not sure I’d be able to find anything else if I was allowed to try. The living room looked pretty bad.”

They hadn’t gotten a chance to unpack much yet. Just having their suitcases should be fine, though Phil missed his horror novel already. But still, Phil groaned. “Are we going to be in trouble with the Airbnb host?”

“Nope,” Dan said. “I called already, they have insurance for idiots like us.” He smiled as he said it. Phil couldn’t help but appreciate that he had lumped the two of them together, as if this whole mess hadn’t been entirely Phil’s fault. “We’re not getting our money back, though.”

Phil sighed. “Understandable.” It was probably the best outcome he could ask for, especially with he and Dan safe… and how expensive US medical bills could get. “How far is the hotel?”

“About half an hour.” Phil opened his mouth, but Dan cut him off. “I’ll drive. You’ve caused enough damage for today.”

He was smiling, just teasing, but Phil couldn’t help the flush of shame that came over him anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Dan threw an arm around Phil’s back and pulled him closer. “I know,” he whispered. “Now come on. Let’s get out of here and get some rest.”

The hotel room wasn’t as nice as their cabin had been. It was on the smaller side, and the carpet was scratchy and gray. The mattress on the equally gray bed was a bit lumpy, but Phil couldn’t bring himself to care as he dragged himself into it.

Dan collapsed next to him. “How is it that I’m the one functional in an emergency?” he asked. “I’m the one crippled by existential despair all the time.”

“I don’t know,” Phil confessed, wringing his hands. “I just… I panicked.”

“I know,” Dan sighed, patting Phil’s face fondly.

“Nothing like a near death experience to solidify a relationship, though, right?” Phil joked weakly.

Dan patted his face again, a bit more clumsily. “Nothing like a near death experience to make me tired.”

He lapsed into silence then, and Phil listened to him fall asleep, counting every breath, matching them with his own until his eyes drifted closed and he fell into a dark, dreamless sleep where, finally, he could no longer smell the wood smoke.

[canislupus-exe]

The Call | daniel howell

YOU ARE READING PART TWO

>> gif credit to @/stevenkanter and @/sophie carter-kahn on buzzfeed <<

fandom | Dan and Phil

character | Daniel Howell

reader | they/them (she ver.)(he ver.)

requested | No, @wukindly, @wolfhard-tozier, @goshdarnitthatsalongname

warnings | Mild swearing

word count | 1,378

keys | (Y/n) = Your name, (D/n) = Dog’s name

summary | You visit your best youtube friend to film a video with him and while doing so, you receive a very interesting call

>> Lethal Games Bring Lethal Fans masterlist | back to prev <<

Keep reading

>> second person p.o.v. <<

>> los angeles, california <<

You grinned happily as you looked over your empty room. A few boxes were stacked here and there, but other than that, everything was spotless. You sighed, the small apartment holding a special place in your heart. You had lived here for a little over nine years and so much had happened to you. This was where you first discovered one of your favorite YouTubers, where you got shit-faced on your 21st birthday, and where you had grown. From 18 to 27, you had grown so much.

You turned away, a smile on your face. Yes, this is where had you had grown, but now it was time to grow somewhere else. You picked up the first box you saw, grunting at the weight. You stumbled slightly, your eyes widening as you almost lost your footing. You smacked your hand on the wall, attempting to regain your balance. You sighed, adjusting the box in your hands before walking to the door.

This continued for about an hour. Grabbing boxes and lugging them to your front door, almost falling every time. After the last box hit the floor, you sighed and checked your watch. 10:17, about time for you to leave. You smiled before grabbing the leash that you left hanging on the peg. You whistled, signaling your dog to come to you. You could hear her loud paws bounding down the halls and you couldn’t help but smile. For an eleven-year-old dog, she was still as hyperactive as ever. She slid to a stop next to you, sitting down and barking happily. You laughed, leaning down and connecting the leash to her collar.

“What (D/n)? You wanna go see Mark and Ethan? You wanna see the boys?”You asked, scratching her behind her ears. She barked again, jumping up in joy at the mention of your best friends’ name.

“Alright then, let’s go.” You said, lightly tugging on the leash. She ran out the door, practically knocking you off your feet. You laughed quietly, trying to keep up with her as she sprinted to your car. She stopped at the drivers’ side door, staring at it impatiently. You leaned over, placing your hands on your knees and panting. You glared at your dog, causing her to stare back at you innocently. You rolled your eyes, unlocking and opening the door.

She jumped in happily, going to sit in the passenger seat. You got in after her, shutting and locking both doors. You leaned over buckling her, then yourself in. Yes, I buckle my dog into my car. Fight me, you thought, although it’s not like anyone would hear you. You stuck your keys into the ignition, starting up the car. You glanced at her.

“Ready?” You asked, in which she replied with a bark and the wag of her tail. You smiled, turning slightly and backing out.

>> timeskip <<

The drive to your best friends was short, and you were quite thankful for that fact. You pulled up, parking in the driveway. (D/n) struggled against her seatbelt, anxious to get out and see the dogs. You laughed quietly, unbuckling yourself and opening your door. You walked to the passenger side and opened the door, (D/n) practically stampeding you as you let her loose.

She ran to the front door, barking and dragging her leash behind her. You shook your head, locking your car and following her. As you walked through the entrance, you saw the happy faces of your friends. You smiled brightly and walked quicker, hugging Mark first.

“Hi! Ugh, I’ve missed you guys.” You said, hugging Amy next. Mark gave a look of confusion.

“We literally just saw you less than two weeks ago.” He replied as you hugged Ethan. You laughed quietly.

“Well yeah, but I still missed you. It’s also quite clear that (D/n) missed Chica, Henry, and Spence.” You replied. Mark chuckled and knelt down to scratch (D/n)’s head.

“You guys wanna head in now?” He asked. You nodded and followed the others.

When you stepped through the door, your eyes widened, and you gasped. The dining room was decorated with bright streamers and the words We’ll miss you! were hanging from the ceiling. You placed your hands over your mouth, feeling your eyes begin to water slightly. You glanced at Mark who had a small smile on his face.

“Surprise.” He whispered. You glanced back at the table, noticing a cake and a few presents stacked in a pile. He walked towards you and you couldn’t help but hug him and let the tears flow.

“Mark… Oh my God, this is so sweet. I can’t believe you did this.” You said, squeezing him as tightly as you could.

“It wasn’t just me, it was all three of us. You’re one of our best friends, We couldn’t just let you leave without… Something.” He replied, squeezing you back. You pulled away wiping your wet cheeks.

“Christ I’m sorry. I’m such a little bitch.” You mumbled, laughing as you wiped away the rest of your tears. Mark laughed with you.

“No, you’re fine.” He replied. You sighed, walking further into the kitchen to examine the cake. Your eyes watered again as you stared at the design. It was all four of the dogs in a simple cartoony design.

As you stared at the cake, you began to cry more. It had never dawned on you until now that you were actually leaving. Like, you knew, you just never really thought about it. You didn’t think about the fact that you wouldn’t get to see your friends as often. You didn’t think about how you didn’t need to wake up early every morning for University. You didn’t think about how you no longer had to listen to your upstairs neighbor stomp around all day. None of that had crossed your mind.

You closed your eyes before coughing. You cleared your throat before looking at them, fond smiles and teary eyes included. You smiled, bigger than you ever had. You were sure that nothing would make you happier than this moment right here. It couldn’t be possible.

“I don’t know what to say, you guys… It’s amazing…” You said, trailing off and staring at the cake. Mark smiled.

“Well… I say we eat some cake!” He shouted. You laughed quietly before you nodded.

“Of course, of course… But I think we should open presents first.” You replied, your joking personality flooding the happy tears away. Laughs were exchanged, and you made your way to the table, picking up the first box.

>> timeskip <<

A little bit of time had passed before you began cutting the cake. You smiled, placing the fork between your lips and savoring the sweet taste. You laughed quietly, glancing at the camera in Amy’s arms. You looked away when Mark sat down, knowing he was about to speak.

“Okay… We have about four more hours until (Y/n) has to leave. So… We have four hours to give them the best time they’ll ever have so they’ll forget about pursuing their dream and miss their flight and they’ll never go to London.” He said. You laughed along with the others.

“Very funny.“ You replied. He shrugged.

“It was worth a shot.” He said with a smile. You were about to speak again before you heard your phone ring. You picked it up, glancing at the screen to see that it was your mom.

“Gimme a sec, guys. It’s the she-devil.” You said jokingly and answering the call.

“What’s up Mom?” You asked. Your face fell as she began speaking frantically. Your eyes widened, and you stood up quickly.

“What? Yeah… I’m on my way. Bye.” You said, hanging up and grabbing your keys.

“Christ guys, I’m so sorry… This was so incredibly sweet, and I can’t thank you enough, but I have to go.” You said, grabbing your presents and calling (D/n). Mark stood up, walking towards you.

“Wait (Y/n), what’s wrong?” He asked, obviously concerned. You glanced at him, frightened to even say it yourself.

“It’s my dad.”

[cinebration]

The Darkest Shine (Dan Torrance x Reader) [Part 11]

Winter arrives.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Epilogue

Tagged: @blackeasteagle​​, @theblackmaskclub​

Warnings: none

Gif Source: misskamala

The nightmares stopped after that night. You weren’t sure if Dan had managed to pluck them out of your head or if merely being with him had soothed your fractured mind, but you didn’t care. What mattered was that you were sleeping peacefully again.

But the man in black’s threat lingered in your thoughts.

Two months you crept around on eggshells, jumping at every sound, worrying Dan to death with your skittishness. Anytime you flinched randomly, he thought your devil might be in the room, but he couldn’t see him.

How was he to protect you if he couldn’t see or feel the enemy?

After the third month, you relaxed slightly, in part because you saw the toll it was taking on Dan. With Abra’s help, you slowly and meticulously built an alarm system for yourself in your mind should the man in black come calling again.

The deep of winter arrived in a white flurry. Growing up in California meant you knew the chill of the desert, where even on days where the heat surpassed one-hundred degrees, the nights plunged to the forties. A land of extremes for which you were best acclimated.

Not this subzero bullshit.

Even with a down comforter and the space heater right beside the bed, you were freezing. Sleep eluded you as you listened to the wind shrieking through the eaves. Flashes of the Overlook flitted behind your eyes. You lifted your head up to look at Dan.

He met your gaze and shrugged apologetically. The wind still reminds me.

You frowned. Unlike Dan and Abra who were likely to pick up random thoughts from people, especially if they were strong enough, you had no such problem. The radios in their heads might pick up errant signals, but yours was a strictly on-off sort of deal. That you had picked up on something he had in no way intentionally broadcast was disconcerting.

You curled tight beneath the sheets, warming your hands with your breath, which still plumed slightly in the chill air of Dan’s non-heated room. Absolute bullshit.

“Dan, I’m going to freeze to death,” you stuttered through clacking teeth.

“It really isn’t that cold.”

You groaned. Of course it wasn’t. The worst of winter was yet to come, as always—and you’d be a popsicle before then.

“How about…burning?”

You seized, your heart knocking in your chest. It was mere memory, the man in black’s voice. The alarms you had set hadn’t rung. But the words were there, lying in wait to set you on edge.

Maybe the cold, or the cold you felt—you realized with a start that the cold had never bothered you before, not since the second time you had died—was the work of the man in black. Burning not by flames but by dying nerve endings as frostbite settled into fingers and toes and even your nose.

You sat up in bed. Struggling not to hyperventilate, you clutched the sheets tight around yourself and closed your eyes, trying to get a handle on your spiraling anxiety.

“Dan,” you whispered.

He sat up immediately, alerted by the tone in your voice. “What is it?”

“N-nothing. Just my brain being…stupid.”

Kicking yourself, you climbed out of bed, socked feet padding quietly across the floor as you went to the bathroom. Closing over the door so as not to blind Dan with the light, you turned the hot water on in the sink and waited until steam rose up into your face before plunging your reddened fingertips into the scalding spray.

A quiet voice from the back of your mind murmured, You need to get out of this town.

You latched onto the thought, unable to let it go. Yes, you had stayed too long. It was better on your own, because then at least no one could see you deteriorate. Perhaps the man in black wanted to turn you into a broken mess worthy of institutionalization. He would need people around to put you there when you shattered, no?

Yes, out of this town and back to the desert, where you’re alone.

You found yourself clenching your jaw so hard your teeth ached. The water burned your skin, but you kept your hands underneath it, hissing against the pain.

The man in black wants me alone, you reminded yourself. I can’t leave.

Glancing up at the mirror, you stared into your opalescent eyes. What did they mean? The question slowly pushed the thoughts of flight to the back of your mind. What new gifts had you brought from beyond the veil? What greater power could there be than resurrection?

You turned off the water. Your bright-red hands throbbed once, twice—and then were suddenly back to their normal color, the pain disappearing. Self-healing, you remembered.

Would the man in black kill you for that power? Could he take it?

A chill deeper than that of winter struck you like a semi-truck t-boning a sedan. You shook violently, your mind snatching up that thought and running with it. A man with that kind of power could be nigh unkillable.

You stumbled out of the bathroom, blind in the darkness. Shuffling your way hesitantly across the floor, you paused at the foot of Dan’s bed, waiting for your vision to adjust.

You found him staring at you, that look of compassion and concern in his beautiful eyes. He didn’t read your thoughts—didn’t have to. He shuffled aside and pulled back the sheets.

“Sorry,” you muttered as you slipped into them. They were blessedly warm. He pulled the covers over you and snuggled up against your back, one arm wrapping loosely around you.

“Don’t be,” he murmured. His breath tickled the back of your neck.

You would have been more embarrassed if it wasn’t for the persistence of those revelatory thoughts. Dan kept himself from prying, reaching out only enough to send soothing energy through you.

You pulled his arm tighter around you, curling his hand under yours and against your breast. He tensed for a moment, then slowly relaxed.

You were too distracted to notice. The thoughts had begun to take a pointed shape, one you didn’t like.

The man in black had to be stopped. There would be no peace for you if he persisted.

The wind shrieked outside and Dan’s heart thumped against your back as he fought the urge to press himself closer to you. You held onto his hand as fiercely as you could.

It was time to figure out what new tricks your Shine had learned.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Can pretty please I get a Ryan bonding with Danny or Nate about dealing with noncon trauma? If you're still up to doing micro fiction tonight

CW: Discussion about past noncon/torture

"They’re going to know.” Ryan forces the words out, he doesn't want to, he doesn’t want to talk about this but he has to, it’s driving him crazy not to say something, not to ask.

Danny is lying on his side with his back to Ryan, staring out the hospital window, at a cardinal in a tree outside. A bright red and black flash of wings and a song he recognizes, from Canada. Has he seen a cardinal, before, in California? It’s like he never thought about it. Never paid attention. 

Nate, sitting next to him in the stupid fucking visitor chairs, looks up from a book to blink at Ryan in the doorway, standing in his own clothes for the first time since they were saved. Not the sweatpants and shirt Abraham made him wear, not a loose hospital gown, but his own soft cotton pants and shirt. 

“What?” Nate’s voice is calm. Danny doesn’t turn back, but Ryan knows he’s listening, somewhere in there. Danny comes and goes right now, sliding into Red and back into himself again, struggling more than any of them.

Then again, Ryan isn’t on half the painkillers Danny is, his back wrapped carefully in layers of bandaging. Ryan hurts, deep inside of himself, in ways he never knew he could. His neck and wrists itch and ache as the skin heals over and scars from the iron collar and cuffs. 

But - just like every other goddamn time the demon looked at them both - Danny had pushed himself in front of Ryan to take Abraham Denner’s rage... and taken a knife to the back for his trouble. 

“When I go back to work,” Ryan says, uneasily. “When I put my suit back on and walk back into my office, into the, uh, the boardroom... everyone there is going to look at me and know what happened to me, Vandrum. What, um... what... he did.”

Nate closes the book, carefully marking his place first, and sets it aside. “They will kn-know you were held, and h-h-hurt,” Nate says evenly, calmly. “That’s all, M-Michaelson.”

“No, it’s not.” Ryan has tear threatening, but he pushes them down. Danny shifts a little but his foggy, flat gaze is still locked on the cardinal he can see through the blinds. “All those people already knew what he did to Danny-” 

“Red,” Danny said faintly.

Ryan and Nate both winced.

They’re... they’re going to assume... that it happened to me, too. And they’re right.”

Nate considers that for a moment, reaching up to lay a hand over Danny’s, rubbing his thumb gently over the scarring. Danny’s eyes close, slowly, but then push open again. “Yes. They are. D-Does that matter?”

“I don’t know, how can I fucking work, if everywhere I go, people know I was... that I... that he did that to me, Vandrum?” Ryan can hear the desperation edging his voice, but he can’t seem to stop himself, the words well up and don’t stop falling like stones from his mouth, a kind of avalanche of his shame and loathing for every time he did what he was told. “I can wear the suit and I can use the words and I can talk like Dad but I’m still Abraham Denner’s goddamn toy, aren’t I? Even if he’s dead, he still-... that shit doesn’t leave your head! How do I-... how can I ever-...” 

Nate is quiet, only watching him with gentle understanding, and somehow that’s more infuriating than his anger ever was, because Ryan doesn’t want the understanding but he needs it.

“Ryan, the n-n-number of people who have been... who uh, understand us... is greater than w-we know,” Nate says, softly. “You g-go to therapy, and you d-d-do the work, and it couldn’t h-hurt for you to read a book-”

“You and your fucking books as the answer to fucking everything!”

Danny flinches, and Nate tightens the grip on his hand Ryan sighs and steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, Dan.”

This time Danny doesn’t correct him. 

“Sometimes,” Nate says softly, “Books actually do provide a v-v-valuable resource for healing, M-Michaelson.”

“Yeah, okay. But unless you have a book on learning to run a goddamn company when every one of your employees can look at you and see someone Abraham Denner bent over the couch in front of his own fucking brother-”

“They d-don’t see that.” Nate shook his head, slowly, giving Ryan a faint smile. “I promise. Put your f-fucking face on, Ryan, and walk in like you oh-own the place, since... you do.”

“Not yet.” Ryan smiled weakly.

“Fine. You will own the place. But... listen. Come see Dr. R-Rosa with us, with D-D-Danny and I. Do some joint appointments with him. You two... need to hah... to handle what happened to you together, at least a l-little. I c-c-can’t tell you how you’ll have to live with it, R-Ryan.”

At the use of his first name, Ryan swallows. “What can you tell me, then?”

Nate is silent for a moment. Ryan watches him squeeze Danny’s hand, watches Danny, even foggy and distant from the painkillers, squeeze back. 

“All I can tell you, Ryan, is that after living with you for so l-long... you’re irritating and an an, angry drunk and I c-c-can’t stand the way you eat and your disdain for my b-b-books is palpable, and...” Nate sighs and runs one hand through his hair. “Ryan, no two p-people live the same way through what we’ve survived.” 

“Abraham told me nobody else ever survived him unless he let them go,” Ryan says. His voice is small. 

“I don’t mean him. I just mean... Look. I can’t tell y-you how to live with it. All I can say is that I know you... Wear your s-suit like armor, Ryan,” Nate says, quietly. “You sl-slayed a dragon.”

“You did.”

“We b-both did. I couldn’t have without your h-h-help.”

“... does that make my brother Rapunzel?”

Nate smiles, just a little - that odd quirk to one side thanks to the scar on his lip - and he turns to press a kiss to the top of Danny’s head. Ryan’s older brother closes his eyes and lets out a soft sigh, pushing his head into Nate’s touch. 

“It makes your b-brother the center of the st-story, doesn’t it? Is he the s-s-symbol of my n-need to have s-s-someone to fight for in order to escape him, or of your j-journey from spoiled pr-prince to compassionate ruler of the land?”

Ryan just stares at him, blankly. “Is that your professor shit coming back to the surface?”

“I g-guess.”

“I don’t think it was our journey, Vandrum. Or not just our journey. The story isn’t about the fucking prince, Nate, it’s about Rapunzel.”

“The pr-prince had a story, too,” Nate points out, looking up at him. “He had a st-story before he had to rescue a princess tr-trapped in a tower.”

“Maybe. But that’s not the one that ends up in the books. You know, my mom used to read us really old versions of fairy-” Ryan winces. “Shit. I like that word so much less now that I know I am one. Fairy tales. She used to read us the bloody, really violent versions.”

“Of course she d-did.”

“In Rapunzel, the prince gets blinded. And Rapunzel has to take care of him, and there’s... just like a lot of blood in my mom’s version of the story.”

Nate just stares at him, and Ryan finally lets out a huff of laughter.

“Look, my point is that the prince saves Rapunzel from the tower, but Rapunzel has to save him, too. So maybe we’re all a symbol of something for each other. But none of this tells me how to be at work.”

Nate snorts. “Just be the f-fucking prince, Ryan Michaelson. Be exactly who y-you are, damage and all.”

Ryan goes still, surprised by the affection lacing Nate Vandrum’s voice.

Affection for him.

“When y-you go back to work, you’ll be every inch the irritating asshole you always h-have been... only stronger, for having been one of the ones to rip that motherf-fucker’s heart out for what he did to D-Danny... to you... to us. Nobody can t-take that from you. No one can take from y-you that when Danny needed you, you stood up.”

[talesofphantombandits]

A Stones Throw Away ~ Part One. A Nick Woods Fic.

Summery: Foster James has been through many ups and downs with her band, but this was probably the worst situation she’d found herself in. After getting kicked out the band a stupid accident ends in her hitching a ride with Nick and Sam woods who are on their chase for Corey and Jimmy.  Will she be able to reconnect with her only family? or will she find a new more loving group of people to stand by her.

Pairing: Nick Woods/OC

Warnings: Language.

Masterlist.

"You're an idiot"

"Excuse me?" I stormed after my boyfriend of 2 years.

My heels clicked on the wooden planks that lead to the front entrance of the diner.

"You're an idiot!" I don't even remember how this argument started, In fact I've lost count of how many stupid arguments we've had these past couple of months.

"Do you actually think that or are you just finding any excuse to start an argument with me?"

He spun on his heel and looked at me pointedly, scoffed and crossed his arms. We now stood blocking the doorway to the dinner.

"Well it sure looks that way."

"You're the one that was making up these stories about me going off with other girls." He screeched, I honestly don’t know what I found attractive about him anymore.

"Because it's true! And I have proof. God the only reason I put up with you is for the band." I threw my hands up in the air, I suddenly became aware of two people behind me trying to enter the diner but seemed too awkward to say anything to us. And I wasn’t letting my guard down now.

"Proof my ass, you just want to make something to fight about."

"Oh I want to make something up to fight about?!" I poked his chest hard.

He grabbed my hand forcefully “Listen I could have any girl in this dinner so I'd be careful what you say to me." He spat at me, I just tugged my arm out of his hold.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?” I smirked. “Or a promise. Because honestly, at this moment in time I couldn't care less." I tuned to find a guy behind me, perfect.

"This Mike, is how much of a crap I give about our relationship."

I grabbed his face and kissed him. I ignored how good it felt to kiss this complete stranger, pulling away quickly and turning back to my idiot of a boyfriend. "Two can play at that game Mike."

Crossing my arms over my chest, feeling pretty proud at the souring expression on his face.

"Whatever man." He pushed open the door and finally walked into the building.

"God sake." I whispered to myself, exhausted at the constant fighting I rubbed my face in frustration.

I suddenly remembered about the guy behind me that I had all but assaulted, I groaned and turned around.

"I’m so sorry." I really hope he couldn’t sense the shock on my features. Dam, I think I just forced the cutest guy ever to kiss me.

"It's fine." He smirked.

I just smiled at him awkwardly and finally went into the diner cursing myself for always getting myself into these dumb situations.

I went over to the booth where my other band members waited, making sure I was on the other side of the booth from Mike. He made sure to put his arm around Amy, the constant groupie that followed us around.

I just rolled my eyes and look towards the front counter where the lady began serving cute guy and the older gentleman he was with. I quickly looked away before anyone would notice, but as I turned I caught Mikes stink eye as he looked to the guy and back to me. 

"So the set list." Our guitarist Vee started, shaking both myself and Mike out of the hate filled staring contest.

"What about it." Dan our drummer said while shoving some fries into his mouth.

I scrunched my nose up in disgust at the sight.

"I hate it, can't we swap some songs, we have better songs than the ones on the list."

"And you couldn't have spoke up about this 3 months ago when we started practising Vee? It's too late now, the gigs tomorrow." I said leaning over the table.

"Hey I was just sharing my thoughts, no need to get on my ass." She shuffled out of the booth to go to the loo.

Through out the whole of lunch I couldn't help myself but to peek at the stranger I'd kissed, even when I wasn't stealing glances I could feel his eyes burning a hole into the side of my head.

It would be a lie if I said I was so tempted to just walk up to him and get his number, I even considered just staying here to talk to him and let my toxic band just go on without me. But I couldn’t, being the lead singer of a popular band earns you a lot of money.

Money that I needed.

So instead, when It was time to head back on the road I just walked past the cute stranger. It all went in slow motion, he spun on his chair to catch my eye and he gave me a sad smile paired with an adorable little wave before I headed out to the van.

I had a very strong feeling that, that wasn't going to be the last time I'd see him. At least I hope I’d see him again, as we pulled out of the parking lot a deep regret started to settle in my stomach.

I should have at least got his number.

........……

When I hopped in the van, I had no option but to sit next to Mike.

"You’re a dumb ass you know that" I mumbled more to myself.

"Don't start, I swear to god I'll kick you out of the van." Mike sneered at me.

"Really? You’re the one picking fights with me, cheating on me yet I’m the one who would be kicked out? You don’t have the authority to do that anyway."

I turned in my seat so I could face him properly.

"Anyway what the hell will you do without your lead singer eh?"

"Okay one, I’m the leader of this band I have to authority to do anything and everything to protect its future. And two, I’m sure we could find someone better. Someone more trusting and less argumentative." He smirked.

"STOP THE VAN!"

"What are you doing?" I said before being lunged forward by the brakes.

The van stopped and Mike slid the door open so aggressively that you could hear the hinges groan.

"Get out"

"What?"

"I said get out, I mean I have to give it to you, your vocals are some of the best but your attitude sucks. So if you can find your own way to the venue then you can sing. If not then guess we'll be advertising for a new singer."

“You can’t just kick me out in the middle of no where, plus you’re the only one who wants me gone.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Anyone in favour of Parker staying?” The van was deadly silent that you could hear a pin drop.

I felt so betrayed, this band had been like the family I never knew.

Mike all but pushed me out of the van while the others laughed behind him.

"You're a piece of shit, you know that Mike?"

He just tutted. "Then you should have dumped me when you had the chance." Just like that the door was slammed in my face, the van speed off covering me in dust.

I just stared after the retreating van in absolute shock. The only family I had ever known had just left me out in the desert to fend for myself. I felt alone, I fell to my knees sobbing. I looked down the long road we’d drove up but it was deserted. God knows how long it would be before another car came along, and it would be dark and cold in about two hours.

I’d stopped crying about twenty minutes again, I got to my feet and dusted myself off. I could feel the sadness turning into anger, I know the stop sign never did anything to me but it's the only object out here that I could have kicked. So I did.

Really hard.

"Ow ouch for god sake."

I picked up a biggish rock from the ground and threw it as hard as I could towards the road, I’d failed to see and hear the lone truck driving my way. But of course it was just my luck that the pick up truck was passing just as my rock flew through the air. The rock managed to find its way through the back window of the truck smashing the glass making the driver screech to a halt.

"Shit." My hands flew to cover my mouth in shock, I wanted to run but my feet had different plans. It was like I was glued to the spot, I didn’t know what this random person was capable of.

"Hey! What the hell!" An old man got out of the drivers side to inspect the damaged window, he had the rock in his hand probably ready to throw back at me.

"Oh god am so sorry! I was so angry and I just picked the rock up and.." The passenger side door flung open and there stood the cute guy from the diner.

"Am all for taking your anger out on things but seriously?" He laughed at me, I just ignored him.

"Look I’m really sorry, but my ass of a boyfriend just dumped me in the middle of no where and I have to be in California tomorrow or I’m going to loose a lot of money. Also this place is a waste zone I was trying to release some pent up anger and didn't see your truck coming." Both guys where just stood staring at me ranting.

"I’m sorry okay."

The cute guy just looks to the other dude who was still stood at the rear of the car.

"So how are you going to right this situation?" The dude points to the window.

"I can pay for it, I promise." I moved a little closer to them, I wasn’t getting a threatening vibe from them at all.

"But that means we'll have to give you a ride, quite frankly I don't know if you deserve that." Cute guy says in a teasing manner.

I just give him a funny look, turning back to the older guy with a pleading look. "I know I broke your window but would you really leave me out here by myself? It's kinda getting dark and cold. God knows what animals are out here." I said shivering, crossing my arms over my chest trying to keep warm.

Cute guy just laughed. Again I squinted at him.

"Fine hop in." The other dude said.

I walked towards the passenger side, but floppy hair blocked my way in.

“Little cold for you to be wearing that isn’t it?”

I looked down at the skater dress I was wearing then looked back at him, I caught him looking me up and down.

“I didn’t exactly plan on being stuck in the middle of no where. Abandoned by the only people I consider closer than family. I expected to be in a nice hotel room right about now, so excuse me if I’m not dress appropriate. Can I get in the truck now?”

“Sure.” He just smirked at me, he shuffled into the middle seat and I got in after him.

As soon as I had shut the door we were off.

[papermoonloveslucy]

LIZ’S MOTHER HAS SECOND THOUGHTS

September 3, 1948

“Liz’s Mother Has Second Thoughts” (aka “Mother’s Surprise”) is episode #7 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on September 3, 1948.

Synopsis ~ Liz's mother Adele Elliott is all set to marry Houston oil man Dan Carson, but suddenly gets cold feet.

This episode was written by the series’ original writers, before the characters changed their name from Cugat to Cooper. It was also before Jell-O came aboard to sponsor the show and before the regular cast featured Bea Benadaret and Gale Gordon as the Atterburys. 

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George's boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Coope. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cugat) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. “My Favorite Husband” eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cugat) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father's garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

John Hiestand also played the role of Cory Cartwright on the series. He served as the announcer for the radio show “Let George Do It” from 1946 to 1950. In 1955 he did an episode of “Our Miss Brooks” opposite Gale Gordon. 

William Johnstone is best known for his voice work as the title character on “The Shadow” from 1938 to 1943, replacing Lucille Ball’s friend Orson Welles. He played John Jacob Astor in the 1953 film Titanic.

Sarah Selby (Louise Elliott, Liz’s Mother) started as a radio actress and made her screen debut voicing Prissy the Elephant in Walt Disney’s Dumbo (1941). When “My Favorite Husband” transferred to television (without Ball, who was then two years into “I Love Lucy”), Selby appeared in an episode as a maid (above right). She also appeared on “I Love Lucy” as Dorothy Cook in “The Matchmaker” (ILL S4;E4) - the trapped ‘fly’ to Sam Carter’s ‘spider’. She is perhaps best known for her recurring role as a storekeeper on TV’s “Gunsmoke” from 1961 to 1972.

In other episodes of the series, Mrs. Elliott’s first name is Adele. 

THE EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “This is the story of Mr. and Mrs. Cugat - the record of a happy marriage. Two people who live together - and like it!” 

As the episode opens, Liz and George are packing their suitcases to visit her mother in the country for the weekend. George cannot drive with Liz because he has a board meeting but will join her later. They wonder what announcement Mother has to make and remember her last big announcement - sponsoring a wrestler named the Hawk. George promises to forcibly remove any new wrestlers!  Liz laughs at the idea. 

GEORGE: “Obviously you’ve never heard of Gorgeous George.” LIZ: (romantically) “You ARE gorgeous, George.”

George is referring to George Raymond Wagner (1915–63), known as Gorgeous George because of his blonde hair. He was mentioned on “I Love Lucy” in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25) and “Ricky’s Movie Offer” (ILL S4;E6).

Looking to pack her swimsuit, George chides Liz for it being too much too skimpy.

LIZ: “You’re too prudish.” GEORGE: “You’re too nudish.”

On “I Love Lucy” Ricky also was unhappy about the size of Lucy’s swimsuit. In “Off To Florida” (ILL S6;E6) Ricky at first thinks Lucy’s new swimsuit is for Little Ricky! Lucy also buys a swimsuit that Ricky feels is too revealing when shopping for their California trip in “Getting Ready”(ILL S4;E11).  The subject will be broached again on “My Favorite Husband” in “Liz Learns To Swim” in June 1950.

Greeting her mother Liz quickly tries to guess her big news.

LIZ: “Chickasaw Indian tap dancing?”   MOTHER: “Chickasaw Indian tap dancing? Hmmm... I wonder whether they teach that at Arthur Murray?” LIZ: “We’re not talking about Arthur Murray.”

Although Liz is being facetious about the tap dancing, there really is a Chickasaw tribe of indigenous Americans. The are mainly found in the Southwestern United States.

LUCY: “Arthur Morton is no Arthur Murray.”

Arthur Murray is also quite real. He taught dance and franchised his dancing schools starting in 1925. He was mentioned on “I Love Lucy” in “The Young Fans” (ILL S1;E20. above). The song “Cuban Pete,” which Ricky sang in “The Diet” (ILL S1;E4) , includes the line "And Cuban Pete don’t teach you in a hurry, like Arthur Murray.”  Murray will be mentioned again on “My Favorite Husband” in “Dancing Lessons” (June 1950). 

Mother finally breaks the news: she is getting married.  Liz’s knees buckle!  His name is Daniel Carson from Houston, Texas, an oil tycoon. 

Although it is not stated whether Liz’s father is dead or just divorced from Louise, absent fathers will be a continuing theme in Lucille Ball’s career, just as it was in her real life due to her father’s sudden death when she was just four. Like Liz, Lucy Ricardo will have an independent (and somewhat quirky) mother, but no father. Lucys Carmichael, Carter, and Barker all have children, but deceased husbands and fathers.

 Asking more about her mother’s intended, Mother compares him (loosely) to a movie star. 

MOTHER: “He’s just like Gary Cooper.  Well... they’re both men.” 

Gary Cooper (1901-61) was mentioned three times on “I Love Lucy”. Lucy Ricardo disguised herself as the monosyllabic actor for the benefit of Carolyn Appleby in “Lucy and Harpo Marx” (ILL S4;E28). 

Mother met Carson when they both were buying tickets to a Randolph Scott picture. 

Since then, they’ve corresponded. 

“My Dear Louise. Howdy. Love Dan. PS: Will you marry me?”

Although no specific film title is mentioned, Mother and Mr. Carson were probably attending Albuquerque, which opened in February 1948, around when Liz says her mother traveled there. The film starred future “I Love Lucy” player Irving Bacon (Ethel’s father Will Potter). Coincidentally, Lucille Ball did two films with Randolph Scott: Follow the Fleet (1936) and Roberta (1935). 

George arrives at Mother’s. Liz refuses to tell him Mother’s secret, so George gets even by saying that he has a secret, too. He teases her that it has something to do with Myra Ponsenby and a hayride. 

Myra Ponsenby is George’s old flame. The character originated in the original George and Liz Cugat stories by Isabel Scott Rorick. Myra was played by Patricia Morrison (above right) in the 1942 film Are Husbands Necessary? and the character is mentioned and featured on several radio episodes before the name change to Cooper. 

Dan arrives for dinner. Mother introduces Liz and George. Dan admires George’s strong handshake. After dinner (or “grub” or “chuck” as he refers to meals), Dan reveals that he bought his oil-filled property for $650,000 from the local Indians and reveals that he has an 18 year-old horse named Shotgun. 

LIZ: “Do you feed him or load him?”

The doorbell rings and Dan’s friend Slim enters. Slim is going to be the best man at the wedding. Slim gives Mother a gift - he is going to provide all the music for the wedding. He introduces the ‘Sons of the Singing Sagebrush’ who sing “You Are My Sunshine” and “I’m a-Headin’ for the Last Round-Up”.  They finish up with a western version of “Oh, Promise Me.”  

DAN: “Lu is loco for the Sons, ain’t ya, Lu?”

"You Are My Sunshine" was popularized by Jimmie Davis and Charles Mitchell in 1939. Davis was a country music singer and Louisiana governor from 1944–1948 and 1960–1964. “Oh, Promise Me” is an 1887 art song by Reginald de Koven and Clement Scott. Viv Bagley (Vivian Vance) sang it when Lucy Carmichael’s sister got married in “Lucy’s Sister Pays a Visit” (TLS S1;E15) and it was also sung in a 1972 episode of “Here’s Lucy.” 

Liz’s mother decides that she needs to get out of the wedding just when Carson gets a telegram that his horse Shotgun is ill. Dan leaves Mother a box of dirt and departs. 

LIZ: “It’ll make a nice Christmas present for people who don’t have dirt.” 

Before George can break the news to Mother that Dan has gone, Liz reveals that it was her who sent the telegram! 

In a bedtime coda, the Cugats declare their love for one another. Liz ends her protestations of love with “Would you get up and get me a glass of water?”  He does. 

In real-life however, the story was quite different. Desi Arnaz told columnist Earl Carroll that on their wedding night in 1940, Desi asked Lucy to get out of bed and get him a glass of water, which she did without a word. Next morning, however, Lucy spoke up: “Listen, you - the next time you want a glass of water you get it yourself!’”

LIZ: “Goodnight, Cuddle Puddle.” GEORGE: “Goodnight, Little Drip.”

TRIVIA

Two days after this episode was broadcast (September 5, 1948) The Amarillo News reported:

Lucille Ball, who once worked! as a chorus girl at Columbia for $50 a week, goes back to the studio at a six-figure salary for Miss Grant Took Richmond. Just before Columbia fired her, she was the foil for the Three Stooges. Lucille says today: "Columbia fired me because there wasn't anything left for the Three Stooges to hit me with."

Her new airshow, "My Favorite Husband," based on the Mr. and Mrs. George Cugat characters, is one of Hollywood's best fall prospects. Richard Denning plays the husband. When someone asked Lucille's husband, Desi Arnaz why he wasn't doing the show with her, he cracked: "I guess I'm not the type.”

Not only does this item promote Lucille Ball’s upcoming film (filming began in March 1949), but it hints that Lucy and Desi were not happy about CBS not allowing Desi to play her husband on radio. After the original George Cugat, Lee Bowman, was unavailable, Lucy pitched Desi for the role, but CBS insisted on the more ‘believable’ Richard Denning. 

[a-fluffer-nutter]

Burrito Dan

A/N - Hey kids, here is another Game Grumps fic. I hope y’all enjoy the burrito fun :D

Word Count: 516

           “I’m a burrito,” Dan repeated for the thirteenth time that hour. The Grumps were doing a series over one of the few Zelda games they hadn’t gotten to yet, and Dan had made himself very comfortable during the last few hours of gameplay. NY Giants beanie hugging his hair and a long, fuzzy blanket encased his body as he was in complete bliss, totally warm during that strangely chilly day in California. Days like these called for Burrito Dan, and boy was he happy to be here.

           “I think lunch is here, burrito boy,” Arin crossed his arms with a sassy smile. “Let’s take a break for a bit and eat.”

           “I think I’ll just stay here,” Burrito Dan hugged himself tighter beneath the soft fabric, closing his eyes in content.

           “You need to eat,” Arin replied, turning off the TV to signify their break. “Hungry Dan is grumpy Dan. And I’m the grump around here.”

           “Feed me,” Dan giggled out, opening his mouth like a baby bird ready for his mom to give him his meal. Arin simply rolled his eyes, hands on his hips.

           “Not after last time,” Dan giggled happily, his feet kicking slightly from the bottom of the burrito. This tiny motion gave Arin an idea, one that could ensure he could get Burrito Dan to turn into regular Dan. Arin had to act fast, making sure Dan couldn’t read his face, follow his eyes.

           “C’mon Danny, let’s go,” Arin shook Dan’s shoulders, the older man giggling as he shook his head in rejection. “Ah, c’mon. You need to eat, or the monster will come out.”

           “What are you talking about?” Dan asked in a stark confusion, that was until Arin leaped into Dan’s lap. The sudden weight caused Dan to squeak and squirm as Arin manipulated his body, so he was facing Dan’s legs, the opening of the burrito. He brought up Dan’s legs so they were in his lap, a weird contorted sight for anyone who could see it, not that there was anyone, but still. This contortionist act became a fight for control until Arin finally managed to grab Dan’s ankles, his socked feet now facing the younger man.

           “You wanna get up now?” Arin asked, wiggling his fingers less than an inch above his socked soles.

           “Don’t you da-” Dan screeched as Arin dug in, a wide smile stretching across his face as the dam in his vocal cords broke and his torrential laughter let loose. His laughter was wheezy and free, though it spiked and went silent once Arin reached his toes, his thrashing ceased as the tickling became too much.

           “Okay!!! I’ll get up,” Dan screamed, Arin released him and watched him pant on the couch, twisting to untangle himself. Arin just watched, laughing at Dan’s expense. Finally, Burrito Dan was no longer. Normal Dan was here to stay, for now.

           “Let’s get you some food, burrito boy,” Arin teased, nudging him as they stepped out of the room. Little did he know that he was about to be served some sweet burrito revenge very shortly.

[the-firebird69]

They're a huge problems here with this guy john Reema Lord. I'm putting in we cut him loose. Is particularly nasty is just threatening our people and they're approving it. they're going through their stuff. Centuries it is a term I use and it means they're looking for an item and it's true I'm trying to figure out what to use on this moron next door who won't leave us alone for a second to get rid of him and I hear our son say anything every single saw you got until it's gone. I agree with that thinking. He's been a real pain to get rid of so you hire everybody who's around makes sense.

We're going forward with it I made an agreements get rid of him we're trying now. A lot of people who want them out and we did before a******tell you what he made his life so hard compared to what it could have been or going to make this guy's life very hard every single moving our son makes this a****** is making some stupid noise or trying to injure him I want him dead now it's ridiculous like right now kart his carcass out now

Thor Freya

I want somebody to listen to Thor and Freya heron and I are having a nightmare this guy is so awful and other people don't do what he does dan next door doesn't do what he does, his own child is not this disrespectful and mean and evil I mean the guy is a human freaking jerk and I want people who don't understand what I'm going through to look at it you should not let you should not have people have to endure this if there are people like him out there and it doesn't seem to be another one of them you shouldn't let him endure have to go through this with this moron he's completely without census for someone else's existence completely he has no clue what the effect of what he did yesterday was none he's a moron with regards to judging what he should be doing to people or not honest the goodness he is completely oblivious about what people are going to do to him for yesterday oblivious should someone like that be near me I don't think so it's not anyone's good judgment

Zues

I agree it's true his way way past anyone's definitions of what's wrong and it's harassing my husband completely it's like almost as old armies pressure again pressured him and like what the f*** do they want we're just going to turn on you and fire. What are you looking for in life with you and your freaking moron is bothering the s*** out of my husband Non-Stop you're absolutely stupid you might not see what we do but you can certainly see 60% down to 5% and your island is inaccessible completely. Tell you what you're so stupid we're just going to get rid of you so he keeps yelling at me don't bother talking to this piece of s*** he doesn't understand anything some sticking to me that the world's biggest f**** and it's true too I'm going to wail on you I'm getting our people together we got permission and we're going to rip you to pieces boy are you stupid

Hera

We have 50,000 people lined up to get into punta Gorda all them claim to hate Trump and we're gunning them down because of that alone we don't like Trump but we're going to take the money. They're just trying to get in and get a gun down the ships have made it here over here at 1:00 a.m. around 6:00 a.m. the rest will be here and wasted their time and lives. Around 800,000 octillion have gathered at the five points 100,000 of those are additional trumpsters who ran up there to try and get to California and it is because they're getting wiped out and the money is being sought. They can't laugh the money after the money and he's saying it's the clothes that's who's going after it and they're going to Cuba and there is some issue in New Zealand there's a ship over there the South Atlantic yeah and the issue is you dont see them topside. Once again the clones are using Trump and his inadequacies and his sloth and laziness and his completely oblivious behavior and stated of being against him. You can see the lakes empty and Phil and right in front of your nose there's the answer that ship is being prepped dinosaurs is covered and his dinosaurs are not drinking all that water those legs which I can't just lakes are gigantic the three of them 10 miles across and 80 miles deep they can't drink that much

Thor Freya

Olympus

[i-writeandread-blog]

A Portrait of a Tortured You and I - Chapter 1

Okay, so I know I said Wonderland would be back, and it will be... I promise, but I sat down to write tonight and this is what came out. So sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. This new story is an amalgamation of truth and fiction. Many elements in this are from real life events. A writer writes what they know. So, this is really hard for me to share. I almost didn’t want to. I won’t say what parts are real or aren’t. It doesn’t matter. Just be gentle with my new child is all I ask. Thanks to anyone who reads. This is Chapter 1.

I was standing on the shore waiting for my time to board the ferry to an island- that for the next three days would be known affectionately as Mars Island. I had been through the worst eight months of my life and had shocked myself that I managed to pull off this trip. First, because financially, I was a mess. Second, because I was now terrified everyday. And third, because some of the Echelon had been unkind to me, during some of my darkest times.

Eight months prior, I was happy. Not the happiest I've ever been, but I was doing well. I had always battled depression but it was at bay, even though I had had a falling out with my sisters. This falling out forced me to need to uproot my life and leave my beloved California for the east coast where majority of my family lived. Without my sisters as my roommates, I couldn't afford to stay in Cali, as much as it pained me to admit. Sure, I could have moved out and tried to find a roommate on Craigslist, but I was too cautious and I was barely making ends meet with the two roommates I had. It seemed easier at the time to move back "home" with my tail between my legs. Of course, I did it at the worst possible time. A huge hurricane was barreling through the Atlantic Ocean headed straight for us. I arrived the night before all hell broke loose.

Nevertheless, we managed to soldier on. The house flooded, we had to stay at a temporary shelter, but we made it through. Still, the depression wasn't rearing it's ugly head. I was desperately trying to find a job, because there wasn't much out there in a rural southern coastal town. I had a career, but I left it to pursue writing. I was hell bent on writing or nothing at all. Somehow that translated into me getting a job as a waitress. So much for the "nothing at all." I have no idea what I was thinking, to be honest. I guess I felt like it would give me free time to continue to write. It didn't.

I was lonely, my friends were all married with kids and I was stuck living with my parents. Not to mention the dating scene here was as abysmal as the job market. I started working at a local diner, I knew almost everyone who came in, the tips were okay. What wasn't okay was the questions I got.

"What are you doing back here?"

— "long story..."

"Weren't you working at a law office?"

— "no, I was a court stenographer."

"Where's your husband?"

— "dunno, but if you find him, can you point him in my direction?"

And my personal favorite was,

"Are you having a mid life crisis? You're much too young and pretty for that."

— "uhh, thanks?"

So instead of working on my novel, or even reading somebody else's, I poured myself into watching documentaries. My love of true crime led me to watching one about a wrongfully convicted murderer. I was appalled that the justice system had failed yet again. I saw it too often when I was working in the courtroom. But unlike when I was working, I actually could have a voice now. I started going on these different blogs looking for ways to help people who had been hurt by the legal system. By early November, I had met a guy who shared my passion. I wasn't actually helping anyone, so much as just talking about the different cases and once I met Andrew, I didn't go on the blogs anymore. I became enthralled with him. Talking to him anytime, I wasn't at the diner.

I truly thought that Andrew would be the guy I had been waiting for. The man of my dreams. But on December 26th, out of nowhere, he stopped taking my calls.  At first, I was worried.  Then worry turned to anger, and anger turned to depression.  I never did find out what happened.  But, I do know he is alive and well, because he accidentally texted me one morning in January.  It was meant for his dad.  He didn't text again.

This was the start of my year.  It wasn't looking so good so far, for 2019.  Worse came to worse when I had to work a double on the day after Valentines Day.  Sylvie- the other waitress, myself, and Dan- the cook were discussing going out to a bar, but because I was so tired, I ultimately declined.  I ended up regretting my decision when they left and I was still fumbling for my keys.  Usually, we all left at the same time.  It just wasn't my night.  Three rowdy teenagers who had been kicked out of the diner earlier for being too obnoxious came out from the shadows, grabbing me and dragging me to the back of the diner.  I fought hard, grabbing and pulling at whatever, I could.  It was for naught.  They punched and kicked me over and over, spit in my face, tore my uniform half off, and then left me there bleeding and unconscious.

My parents had expected me home and sat around worrying when I hadn't at least called to say I would be late.  My dad decided after an hour to go looking for me.  He pulled up to the diner, saw my car and yelled for me.  I whimpered.  He followed the pathetic sounds to the back loading area where he found me.  The police investigated, but I couldn't remember anything about my attackers.  The diner didn't have any surveillance footage and all anyone remembered was they looked like typical kids.  They left no DNA evidence behind.  I had become a true crime victim.

A month prior, I had thrown caution to the wind and purchased this ticket to the island.  I was reeling from the "break up," if you could even call it that and decided, I could make it work financially, as I had a retirement plan I could cash out.  Now, after the attack, I was to be out of work for an indefinite amount of time.  I had some nerve damage and a punctured lung from a broken rib.  I didn't know how I was going to pay any of the hospital bills as I didn't have any insurance.  I decided to reach out to the people, I believed were more my family than my actual blood.  The Echelon.  My brothers and sisters in Mars.

I went onto Vyrt, as some of us still chatted on there and I nervously typed the following:  hey guys, haven't been on in a few weeks.  Have been missing you all.  Several people responded with hellos and where have ya beens.  Then, I admitted to them what had happened: well, it's been tough.  I was attacked. Left for dead, ya know... the usual. My sense of humor was my downfall here.  Many people thought I was joking, but I eventually admitted it was all true and said I was sorry for making it seem so lighthearted.  I told everyone how rough things were and that I had sadly cancelled my trip to Croatia.  I was lucky, because Adventures in Wonderland refunded me due to my circumstances.  Then out of the blue, someone I loved and respected, Natalie, typed: she's so full of shit guys, she just wants sympathy because she's living such a pathetic life. I was stunned.  Never once, had I ever went into Vyrt looking for a pity party, and never had I ever been mean or rude towards her.  She continued: I bet she never even booked mars island.  AiW doesn't do refunds ever! I don't know, guys.  She wasn't done, but at this point no one had come to my defense, so she rattled on: I bet she's trying to get Jared's attention.  Maybe she thinks he will allow her to come to the island as his guest. I was mortified.  I quickly logged out and laid sobbing on the hospital bed.  I had no one to turn to after all.

The next day, I had many messages from various Echelon.  Some were kind, others were nasty.  I decided to just leave the Mars "fandom" behind and try to pick up the mess that was my life.  That was until, I noticed an email notification from Shayla.  I at first thought it was a form letter email, since AiW had sent out several when they first were promoting the island.  But curiosity got the better of me and I clicked on it.

Shayla McGhee

To: Catherine Tyrell

Hi Catherine!

I wanted to let you know that someone decided to pay the remainder of the balance for your Mars Island package.  Is it okay for us to process their payment?  We haven't issued your refund of the first payment yet, is this also okay?  We understand if the circumstances surrounding your reason to cancel will keep you from attending, but maybe you can still join us?  Let me know!

Best

Shay

I read and reread the email about a dozen times.  Surprised would be an understatement.  I couldn't fathom who would have done this for me.  As far as I could tell the entirety of the Mars fan base hated me.  I pressed the call button and waited for my nurse to saunter in.

"Well look who has a huge smile on her face!  What do you need, honey?"  She asked.

"Can you ask the doctor to come see me.  I need to ask him a question about my recovery process."  I wanted to know if it was even remotely feasible for me to travel halfway across the globe in a matter of six months time.

"Sure, dear.  I'll see if I can find him doing his rounds.  Need anything else?"  I shook my head and she left the room.

A few long hours later, I had my answer.  If I followed all instructions, I'd be out of the hospital in a couple of weeks and I shouldn't take too long to recover physically.  I was warned that I had to follow all the rules or I may not recover in time.  I believed in myself and sent a reply back saying, I would be making it to the island without hesitation.  I was on cloud nine.  If only I knew then what I know now.  My recovery wasn't just going to be physical.

That night the nightmares started.  The panic attacks started the next day.  The need to not be left alone started a week later.  I was an emotional wreck.  I don't even know what triggered it.  My therapist says, "The human brain is a tricky one.  Sometimes it takes time for trauma to sink in."  I was diagnosed with severe PTSD, depression, anxiety, etc.  The depression I was used to, the constantly being afraid, I wasn't.

I wanted to be normal again, but no matter what I did, I was always in a state of alert.  I began checking the locks on the doors many times before I was satisfied they were truly locked.  I would jump at the slightest sound.  I'd burst into tears randomly.  I couldn't watch TV because everything had violence.  Even cartoons were getting bad.  I was miserable, only leaving the house for doctor appointments.  I was a shell of my former self.

The time for the island got closer and closer,  but I was in no position to travel.  I was almost completely agoraphobic.  One day, my mother who didn't necessarily want me to travel alone came in to my room, where I was still sleeping at noon.  "Okay, enough is enough! Get up!  I know you're sad, I know you're scared, but you aren't doing anything the therapist has suggested you do.  You need to fight this head on.  No stop pulling the blankets over your head! Wake up!"  I grumbled and sat up, yelling.  "Can you NOT, Mother!  I don't need your bullshit, right now."  As soon as I said the words I felt sick.  I was never one to treat my parents with disrespect.  I hated who I had become.  Fortunately, my mother took it in stride.  "Catherine Leeann Tyrell, I'm only going to say this once, you ever talk to me like that again and there will most certainly be hell to pay.  This is your one get out of jail free card.  I'm going to let it slide because I know you are terrified.  But you can't live like this anymore.  Bad things happen all the time.  They happen to everyone. You are not the first person to have this happen to.  As special as you are, you're NOT that special, that you'd be the one and only person to be attacked.  Now, some nice person did you a favor and paid for you to have a wonderful experience.  Are you going to let their money go down the drain because you can't be bothered to at least try to live again?"

My mother's monologue shook me to the core.  She was right.  I needed to confront this head on.  She then dropped a letter on the bed and walked out.  There was no name or any sender information.  My mother had already opened it, no doubt to protect me in case it were something bad.  I sat there staring at the contents.  Laying in my lap was a cashiers check in the amount of $3,000 and a note.  It simply said:  "for your travel arrangements to Croatia."

[punkdaddylouis]

un: harry del rey ♡♡

just trying this one out. since my fics and account altogether recently got removed from a site, i have decided i will post my fics here instead. so under the cut is the first chapter for baby loves when daddy gets high, book one of the del rey series. thank you in advance for those who will give it a try.

♡♡♡♡

Louis looks through his window as he clutches his paintbrush, gazing at the massive picturesque gardens, with a magnificent pool that's the shade of cerulean nestled in the midst of the freshly cut grass, and then holds up his palette.

He breathes through his nose, letting the breathtaking view take root in the crevices of his mind, and then he paints.

Painting is something that he can easily lose himself in, it's an age old routine that he mastered years ago that allows him to sink into a blissful brand of artistic autopilot.

After thirty minutes of letting his paintbrushes convey things that his mind could never begin to articulate into words, Louis backs away a bit to look at the masterpiece he's making and sighs. Not good enough, the voice in his head tells him menacingly, he needs to do better.

He sets down the brush and palette then wipes at the stray sweat that he can feel trickling slowly across his temple and turns around, taking the glass of juice Valeria left on the nightstand beside his bed. Louis takes a sip, eyes blinking against the sun, gaze fixated directly at the house that is nestled beside his own.

Del Rey, he thinks. He sees, right there, getting out of his posh, vintage car and taking his guitar with him.

Dressed in floral sheer shirt, dark skinny jeans—they look tighter than normal, he notes—and his trademark gold boots reflecting the sunbeam perfectly. His curls have gone longer, headscarf holding it in a loose demure, once pinkish pale skin from last month now reddish tan. Louis lowers down his drink, eyes never leaving the sight, mind momentarily mesmerized by the fact his neighbor has possibly grown a pair of...

"Ses fesses," Louis murmurs to himself, eyelids getting heavier without his consent. His eyes just can't help ogle those...oh God.

And then he blinks rapidly, dragging him out of the trance that he quickly fell under. This isn't like him, he's startled even by his own attitude. He turns away from the window, cheeks heating rapidly when he catches a glimpse of heavily-lashed eyes staring back directly at his own—his neighbor has a knowing smirk on his face that holds the implication that he caught Louis checking him out. Checking his arse out. Louis' heart crawls up his throat in mortification.

Fuck. Shit, shit, shit. Louis' screwed. All of the subtlety—all of the guises of seeming mysterious and carefully acting like he is disinterested in his neighbor—has been for naught; he knows that Del Rey caught him practically salivating over them and he couldn't possibly be more embarrassed.

It's been several months since Louis moved to this side of the town, and during the first few days he must admit he was quick to take notice of his gorgeously handsome—no, not handsome. He's more than that, really, his features put him under the definition of beautiful, or ethereal. He's just. Insanely attractive, and Louis wants to paint the elegant curvatures of his body for hours on end—neighbor.

And he watched him from afar as he went out to do mundane things like take out the trash or pick up the daily newspaper; but this is the first time that Louis' been caught. With full on eye-to-eye contact and everything. Louis laughs under his breath at himself, his heart rate still racing from the seconds long contact, like he's a teenager once again, a young boy that has just spoken to his crush for the first time.

But he can't help it, the eye contact was just so intense; it felt like Del Rey was drawing him to be seduced into staring longer, until he has drowned in his eyes and lost all of his sensibilities. It felt like in the span of four seconds, Del Rey was able to provoke Louis into ogling his arse some more with something as simple as the movement of cherry-blossom lips forming into a smirk.

More, Louis. More.

Louis swallows hard, then looks around his room in sheer panic. He considers calling his maid to distract him but quickly decides against it, and then just settling on taking a deep breath, before swiftly turning back around to look over yet again at his window, hoping to get another glimpse of Del Rey.

But then all he sees now is the vacant drive way, one that's connected to his neighbor's home.

Louis doesn't know whether to sigh in relief or in disbelief.

~*~

Later on in the afternoon, Louis decides to make a last ditch effort to find inspiration and goes over his cabinet and rifles through his drawers. He withdraws his pipe, handkerchief filled with kush, and his Zippo lighter with a small sound of relief. Maybe he can find a muse this way.

He falls asleep instead.

~*~

Sunlight streams through where his window was pried open by his maid earlier to let fresh air in and Louis is irritated by it.

Summer has officially commenced in California and the sun is demanding that it's ever-so-bright presence be known and constantly in his eyes. Louis has known that California would be like this, he saw the overwhelming abundance of a bright sun and happy skies in the movies that he watched when he still lived in bleak Paris while he was still under his foster parents' care, but that doesn't mean that he still can't be annoyed by it.

He scoffs bitterly at the thought of Paris, even though it was in the past and he refuses to ever let himself dwell over the city and the memories that it harbors for too long. Louis has always had the notion to always, always fucking live in the moment, in the now imprinted in his mind. Louis rolls his eyes at himself because of how absurdly he's thinking again.

Get it together, Tomlinson.

He swings his legs over the side of his massive bed and sets his feet on the ground, padding across his room and then out, making his way downstairs with his phone in hand.

"Valeria?" He calls out.

Not even a minute has passed and Valeria's immediately right in front of him. "Oui, monsieur?"

"Apportes-moi ma serviette et ma crème solaire, je veux m'effondrer sur la chaise longue jusqu'à la nuit tombée. Il fait chaud dans ce putain d'état," Louis tells her, dismissive tone mixed with his trademark raspy voice. Valeria nods twice, and then she's off. Louis proceeds outside where his pool is and sits on one of the pool chairs, waiting for his maid with the sunscreen.

Moments later, Louis is eventually lying on his front in only his black swimming trunks, his back completely bare, all of his tattoos in plain sight. He's got his eyes closed, sunscreen applied to his skin, and yep—Louis really plans on sleeping here until the sun hides from him and all that. Yeah, good plan. Good—

But then his plans are ruined by the doorbell ringing from the living area. Louis scrunches up his nose and calls out, "Valérie, dites à peu importe qui cette personne est que je suis—,"

But he cuts himself off short when he hears his maid say in turn, "C'est le voisin, monsieur, il veut vous parler. Il dit qu'il joue de la guitare et serait heureux de se joindre à vous pour jouer."

And—what? A neighbor who plays guitar? Louis bolts right up from his relaxed position and immediately grabs for his slippers and runs inside the house, his shirt and towel still laying poolside, completely forgotten.

"Venez-vous de dire quelque chose au sujet d'une guitare?" are Louis' first words as his eyes attentively land on the boy he knows is the only neighbor he has who plays said instrument.

"Ooh, French, I like it," the boy with the curls and the red, plump lips drawls in a low, syrupy voice. And, God, he looks even more beautiful in this close proximity. And much more young, too, he notes. Louis must still be dreaming, because—because surely this isn't happening.

Valeria stands beside the two of them, with who Louis has in his head nicknamed Del Rey staying put on the doorstep with a fluid persona, slivers of inked skin on sight (so they do have tattoos, then, Louis' always wondered if he's right on that front), and Louis in just his swimming trunks, looking quite baffled and rooted in the middle of his massively posh living area. Massively posh, Louis mentally scoffs in his head, but of course, this is Beverly Hills!

Clearing his throat, Louis suddenly feels rather exposed with his torso missing a top and his feet and soles touching the tiles. Valeria backs away and nods at Louis, breaking the silence that followed once blue has met green. Louis' grateful for it. "Est-ce que je peux vous apporter à tout deux quelque chose, monsieur? Un verre de jus de fruits et des gâteaux? Dois-je le laisser entrer?"

Completely out of his depth, Louis only nods at her feeling lost, and then she disappears right back in the kitchen.

"Anything... I can do fo' you?" Louis tries then, swallowing the lasts of the saliva that's dried in his tongue, addressing Del Rey and his unexpected visit. "Forgive me, monsieur." He shakes his head. "I am no very good in Anglais..."

It's true. Louis sucks at speaking English, whether it's American or British, and he feels like an idiot, talking to the person he's been stalking through his window ever since he's moved here in broken English while sunscreen dries uncomfortably on his skin. Perhaps the day that truly tests his English skills has finally come; he's now regretful he did not pay attention to English class back in the days. Back when he was in Paris and living his rebellious teenager years, and couldn't give a single fuck about English and all of its subject-verb agreement rules. Well, it's too late to go back and change it now, though, innit? He's bloody thirty-one now for fuck's sakes.

Smiling softly, Louis watches Del Rey gesture with his hands—long, delicate fingers swaying in the air, while his massive, massive hands make enthralling gesticulations—and watches his mouth move as he speaks, again, slowly, "It's alright if you're not fluent, as long as we can communicate well. That'd be fine, I suppose." After a beat, they just stand there and look at each other, Louis drinking in Del Rey's languid posture. He's so tall, albeit he's hunched. Seconds pass and Del Rey eventually says, "I'm Harry, by the way. I'm sorry if I came here unannounced—it was just that I've realised we haven't properly met yet, which is a shame, considering the fact that we're the only neighbors in this side of nine'o'two one'o, so...yeah."

Blinking at him, Louis suppresses a short circuited laugh and motions for Harry to come in. He's so fucking relieved; he thought for sure that his neighbor stopped by with the sole plan of giving him a tongue-lashing for practically eye-fucking him like a right pervert. "Okay, okay," Louis lets out, breathy, "bonjour, Harry. My name is Louis, nice t'meet you. Uh, veuillez entrer.”

Harry smiles toothily, showcasing his perfect white teeth in a heart-achingly charming manner, and Louis' gaze doesn't leave Harry as he lets himself through his extravagant threshold. The ends of his gold boots are pointing toward each other endearingly, and his long, slim legs move in calculated strides that's reminiscent of how a model would grace a runway. He feels his skin crawl nervously all of the sudden, because this is actually happening.

"You've got a nice house, French neighbor." Louis hears Harry say from behind him, sounding as awestruck as anyone else that ever enters his home.

Louis chuckles weakly. "Thank you, Anglais neighbor."

Harry follows him as he leads him to where the pool chairs are once they step outside, and when they choose where to sit—which is next to each other—Louis picks up his shirt from the patio and pulls it back over his chest, clearing his throat once more as he faces Harry with a troubled facial expression.

His heartbeat is racing.

"Look, mon amour, about the... uh, earlier when you catch me—," Louis begins to explain, until Harry releases a breathless giggle that quickly makes him shut up.

"Amour?" Harry breathes out in a sketchy accent, a smile painting his lips. Louis wants to touch those red lips, see what they feel like against the pads of his fingers. Or perhaps, paint them using the reddest shades that he owns until he can show the entire world. "Isn't that love in French?"

Louis can only nod in affirmation at the question thrown at him, his face heating up rapidly. "Oui... I—I'm sorry."

Shaking his head, Harry smiles and says, "No, it's—it's cool. I like it. I mean, I love it. You can, like, call me that. I think it's...yeah. Cute."

Louis sighs in relief. "Oh." Harry grins at him, cheekily and Louis almost melts with this fond type of attraction that hits him as a result of it, and that's when Valeria finally walks in on them staring right into one another's eyes while fully clothed during a hot California day beside a luxurious pool that is worth more than most peoples' houses, tray of juice and biscuits in her steady hands.

They thank her and she leaves without a word. Louis mentally praises himself for hiring her, she's not inquisitive of Louis and his doings in the slightest of ways, which is why he even fancied the thought of taking her in in the first place.

~*~

Their afternoon together turned out to be great, much to Louis' great relief.

Louis learns about Harry's profession of being a nightclub singer in a gay bar called Velvety Roses, where he says he plays his guitar and pours his heart out to an audience that mostly consists of sweaty bikers and men in their late thirties and early forties. Which—wow. That probably explains the radiating seductive demeanor Harry holds in just his presence alone... Louis can see him as being successful with his job, with several of the attendants jostling for the best view of him crooning beautifully along with the sultry notes that he elicits from his guitar. Men probably crave his...attention. But he can't judge; Louis yearns for the exact same thing from him, too.

Louis also learns Harry is a very cheeky lad, smarter than he looks, taciturn too, but much happier to just sit and ramble continuously about nothing and everything, with that syrupy slow way of talking that he has going, green eyes sparkling and keeping Louis engaged while he does so.

In theory, Louis would've sighed and rolled his eyes at how talkative his companion—an American one, too—was. But there's something that's distinctly different about Harry, something that makes him so delightful that Louis actually wants to spend time with him and urge him into talking more. Because really, Louis can't understand what Harry was even saying half of the time, given that there was an obvious language barrier between them. But even so, Louis doesn't even seem to mind. He loves hearing Harry talk, even if he is entirely unsure on why Harry even came over to his home and why they've even been talking for such an extended period of time.

"Sorry I didn't bring anything for you, Mr. Tomlinson, like—a pie or something. I mean, isn't that what we are infamous for doing to newcomers? To welcome our neighbor to the neighborhood?" Harry giggles loudly, and then claps a hand over his mouth like he's embarrassed of the seal-like bark of a laugh he just emitted. "Sorry, again. 'S just—kinda repetitive. Neighbor...neighborhood..."

Louis laughs. "It's okay, it's—cute. Harry, cute. Also, please... Louis is the name. Pas monsieur Tommo."

"Mhmm, as you wish, Louis."

They've ran out of biscuits long ago, and their drinks are also almost empty; the moon has risen completely up in the sky, and the stars are slowly beginning to join the celestial body and illuminate the night, too. It's a beautiful scene, but Louis finds Harry more beautiful.

Breathing in and out, breathing in and out, Louis racks Harry's languid posture from where he's draped over the chair next to him and smiles when their gazes meet. Harry brushes a hand across his forehead, tucking his curls back under his red and blue headscarf. "No work tonight, Harry?" Louis asks, breaking the silence.

And for the first time ever since they've started talking, Louis wants to punch himself for ever speaking because Harry's eyes immediately widen, like he's woken from a deep trance and has just realized that the moon was out and playing games with the smiles that seem to be glued on their faces. "It's getting late, I should go," Harry says in a soft voice.

Louis nods at that and stands in sync with him, not saying any more. They both go inside and head towards the living area, with nothing that can be heard in his empty mansion besides their intertwined breaths echoing off of the walls. Louis leads Harry to the door and then opens it for him.

"Merci, Harry, for—"

"About earlier, Louis, I," Harry cuts in, turning around to face Louis, "I should let you know... I did see you looking at me from your window, but. I don't—I wouldn't calling it 'catching you', though. I've always seen you watching, so. I didn't just notice you, but rather I've always been aware... if that makes sense? I think it's just more so that this is the first time that you've caught me looking back."

Louis stares at him, tongue-tied while mortification overruns his veins. "You've always..." His eyes grow big, cheeks numbing because of all of the heat that's flooding there so rapidly. And then he groans, and starts to ramble, "Oh mon dieu. Je suis tellement désolé. J'espère que j'étais pas bizarre, oh mon dieu."

Laughter bubbles from inside Harry's throat and leaves his mouth, startling Louis into cutting himself off and blinking up at Harry. "I don't know what you just said, but Lou. It's okay, it's okay—hey." He takes Louis' hand and squeezes at it. "Don't worry, Louis, it's all good. Didn't you realise that... just by admitting I catch you every time actually meant...I also do the same with you?"

Louis' still looking at Harry—gawking, really—and in the end Harry just winks at him, retreating backwards with his hands on his back and across the yard, leaving Louis speechless on his front door, still in his dried up swimming trunks and t-shirt.

And yeah, why didn't Louis realise that anyway? Harry stalks him back. Louis watches as his hair bounces against his shoulders and his hips sway confidently away from Louis. He stalks him back? Louis' mind flashes back towards the knowing smirk that Harry aimed at him earlier today, and the realization hits him like a vicious punch to his stomach.

He does. Oh mon Dieu.

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 138: Hatchback

Sam Grawe’s Hatchback project is a fantasy panorama of all the music I like most, weaving new age, krautrock, balearic, kosmische, and post-rock into heavenly tapestries that I could float on forever. But the project had been virtually silent since 2013’s incredible Marin County 12” on Adult Contemporary, leaving the world bereft of his soothing sonic meditations until a surprise appearance earlier this year on Cocktail d’Amore’s Iury Lech remix album. There Sam transformed “Posimeridiano” into a blissed out expanse of soft ambient propulsion and shimmering synth starscapes and now, building on the incredible strength of that remix, he has joined Lo Recordings once again for the much awaited third volume of his “California Cosmic Sound” series, Year of the Dragon. As usual, Scott Hirsch and Daniel Judd are along for the ride dropping golden waves of guitar alongside Sam’s cosmic vibrations, with Daniel in particular adding his Sorcerer sunshine to one of the coolest tracks I’ve heard in a long time, “Humidity Report 1976.” Elsewhere we get majestic new age soundscapes and tropical saxophone jams, as well as a stunning journey into the blinding light of climactic post-rock.

Hatchback - Year of the Dragon (Lo Recordings, 2018) The centerpiece of “Evening Mountain” is the repeated appearance of thick and soul melting saxophone lines in the vein of Seahawks, which initially explore soft sauna jazz over cavernous reverb toms, flashes of hot static, and warm throbbing bass currents. Kick drums and splashy white noise cymbals evoke slow motion disco but when the full beat comes in, the vibe skews closer towards crashing and epic funk. The drums also sound double-tracked and with each layer slightly out of phase, creating the effect of colorful percussive tracers flying through the stereo field while an overflowing rainbow of synthesizer arps dances with LSD-soaked chime percolations and cosmic streaks of harmonious light panning back and forth. Towards the end, a searing space sequence overtakes the mix alongside droning angel choirs and the “topographic slide guitar” of Scott Hirsch, which dots the landscape with echoing bell tones and wailing solos, adding a naturalistic romanticism to the polychromatic synth euphoria. And as the track comes to a close, saxophones are smothered in deep space harmonizers while Sam’s squiggling synthesizer madness pushes everything towards some wild tropical landscape of alien colors and psychedelic visions.

“Onarimon” sets the spirit afloat on meditative bass currents while chiming e-pianos sound like drops of golden glowing liquid. Anthemic polysynths are transmuted into new age shimmer and celestial pads move around majestic washes of Manuel Göttshching-style spaceguitar (possibly sourced by Is it Balearic? alumnus Kensuke Saito/9dw, who is credited here with “neon halo guitar”). Arcing layers of distortion wash blissfully over the body and a hovering cloud of synthetic wind and kaleidoscopic feedback glows with warm sunset hues, while the starlight electric piano arpeggios continue to fade in and out of the mix. Gentle acid sequencing forms a sort of bass lullaby as the glorious guitars weave layers of lustrous light and eventually the acid bass is moved up a few octaves, now sounding like an otherworldly harp. Then a throbbing four-four beat emerges while cascading repetitions of twinkling minimalism build us towards a washed out climax wherein the aqueous guitars sing underwater songs of dolphins and whales and kosmische solos bubble up into the starry sky. Ever growing tremolo chords flow out to sea and shooting stars rain down and then morph into brain-piercing streaks of light and there is a spellbinding yet understated back and forth between delay soaked guitar riffs and pillow bass synths as Sam lets the sound layers grow into incandescent clouds of solar spiritual beauty.

In “Humidity Report 1976”, aquamarine synths float alongside lush Rhodes melodies and outerspace sequences over clattering percussion and a building sense of rhythmic urgency. As the cymbals grow in strength and strange layers of sound threaten to overwhelm the mix, Sam and Dan drop us into a gloriously booty-shaking expanse of cosmic magic with perfectly placed claps sitting above a tight funk beat and interstellar synths and guitar arpeggios working in counterpoint to the dreamy e-piano ascents. Then we head into a gorgeous instrumental chorus with soft fusion synths weaving melodies of eternal prog romance over breaky lounge drums…like a soundtrack for fantasy kingdoms in the sky where shimmering light of all colors reflects off of every surface. And when we flash back to the body-moving funk jam, intergalactic synths now solo over thunderous bass waves and the guitars are smeared into blankets of solar flare fuzz. After a few more alternations between the smooth funk groove and the paradise fusion/prog chorus, we transition via a minimal jam of dusty MPC drums, tambourines, bouncing synthbass, and growing layers of dreamland keys into a new melodic world, one where the guitars build into a repetitive refrain of California coastal magic over a grooving ocean of positivity. And the track ends on a “Wish You Were Here” style AM radio cut-out, here joined by chirping crickets and other insect songs.

The introduction of “Year of the Dragon” surrounds piano chords that penetrate to the depths of the heart with aching slide guitars and a loose drum flow accented by sizzling hi-hats and island breeze bongos. The vibe is like riding through spaghetti western expanses on some faraway planet of peace and harmony, especially as e-pianos soaked in vibrato bathe the mind in a calming tropical light. At some point the song switches into a section dominated by spindly acoustic guitar riffing and gliding drumbeats, while hand drums continue adding colorful island wonder and mesmerizing arpeggios and electric guitar leads sweep everything into a triumphant drift. All the while, classical post-rock tremolo picked guitars ebb and flow in the background, building and building as the song progresses towards a soaring climax of overwhelming power, reminding me of nothing so much as Godspeed You Black Emperor!’s epic “BBF3,” only as if blasted into the balearic sunshine. Propulsive and explosive drums and chugging bass hypnotics underly the massive clouds of post-rock beauty as squelching acid synths diffuse through walls of hazy guitar brilliance. And after the drums back away for a celestial passage dominated by liquid six-string ambiance, we build back up for one more ecstatic rush through Sam’s starshine seascape before everything drops away, leaving just sparse piano chords to help the soul return to Earth.

(images from my personal copy)

[canislupus-exe]

The Call | daniel howell

YOU ARE READING PART TWO

>> gif credit to @/stevenkanter and @/sophie carter-kahn on buzzfeed <<

fandom | Dan and Phil

character | Daniel Howell

reader | he/him (she ver.)(they ver.)

requested | No, @wukindly, @wolfhard-tozier, @goshdarnitthatsalongname

warnings | Mild swearing

word count | 1,378

keys | (Y/n) = Your name, (D/n) = Dog’s name

summary | You visit your best youtube friend to film a video with him and while doing so, you receive a very interesting call

>> Lethal Games Bring Lethal Fans masterlist | back to prev <<

Keep reading

>> second person p.o.v. <<

>> los angeles, california <<

You grinned happily as you looked over your empty room. A few boxes were stacked here and there, but other than that, everything was spotless. You sighed, the small apartment holding a special place in your heart. You had lived here for a little over nine years and so much had happened to you. This was where you first discovered one of your favorite YouTubers, where you got shit-faced on your 21st birthday, and where you had grown. From 18 to 27, you had grown so much.

You turned away, a smile on your face. Yes, this is where had you had grown, but now it was time to grow somewhere else. You picked up the first box you saw, grunting at the weight. You stumbled slightly, your eyes widening as you almost lost your footing. You smacked your hand on the wall, attempting to regain your balance. You sighed, adjusting the box in your hands before walking to the door.

This continued for about an hour. Grabbing boxes and lugging them to your front door, almost falling every time. After the last box hit the floor, you sighed and checked your watch. 10:17, about time for you to leave. You smiled before grabbing the leash that you left hanging on the peg. You whistled, signaling your dog to come to you. You could hear her loud paws bounding down the halls and you couldn't help but smile. For an eleven-year-old dog, she was still as hyperactive as ever. She slid to a stop next to you, sitting down and barking happily. You laughed, leaning down and connecting the leash to her collar.

"What (D/n)? You wanna go see Mark and Ethan? You wanna see the boys?" You asked, scratching her behind her ears. She barked again, jumping up in joy at the mention of your best friends' name.

"Alright then, let's go." You said, lightly tugging on the leash. She ran out the door, practically knocking you off your feet. You laughed quietly, trying to keep up with her as she sprinted to your car. She stopped at the drivers' side door, staring at it impatiently. You leaned over, placing your hands on your knees and panting. You glared at your dog, causing her to stare back at you innocently. You rolled your eyes, unlocking and opening the door.

She jumped in happily, going to sit in the passenger seat. You got in after her, shutting and locking both doors. You leaned over buckling her, then yourself in. Yes, I buckle my dog into my car. Fight me, you thought, although it's not like anyone would hear you. You stuck your keys into the ignition, starting up the car. You glanced at her.

"Ready?" You asked, in which she replied with a bark and the wag of her tail. You smiled, turning slightly and backing out.

>> timeskip <<

The drive to your best friends was short, and you were quite thankful for that fact. You pulled up, parking in the driveway. (D/n) struggled against her seatbelt, anxious to get out and see the dogs. You laughed quietly, unbuckling yourself and opening your door. You walked to the passenger side and opened the door, (D/n) practically stampeding you as you let her loose.

She ran to the front door, barking and dragging her leash behind her. You shook your head, locking your car and following her. As you walked through the entrance, you saw the happy faces of your friends. You smiled brightly and walked quicker, hugging Mark first.

"Hi! Ugh, I've missed you guys." You said, hugging Amy next. Mark gave a look of confusion.

"We literally just saw you less than two weeks ago." He replied as you hugged Ethan. You laughed quietly.

"Well yeah, but I still missed you. It's also quite clear that (D/n) missed Chica, Henry, and Spence." You replied. Mark chuckled and knelt down to scratch (D/n)'s head.

"You guys wanna head in now?" He asked. You nodded and followed the others.

When you stepped through the door, your eyes widened, and you gasped. The dining room was decorated with bright streamers and the words We'll miss you! were hanging from the ceiling. You placed your hands over your mouth, feeling your eyes begin to water slightly. You glanced at Mark who had a small smile on his face.

"Surprise." He whispered. You glanced back at the table, noticing a cake and a few presents stacked in a pile. He walked towards you and you couldn't help but hug him and let the tears flow.

"Mark... Oh my God, this is so sweet. I can't believe you did this." You said, squeezing him as tightly as you could.

"It wasn't just me, it was all three of us. You're one of our best friends, We couldn't just let you leave without... Something." He replied, squeezing you back. You pulled away wiping your wet cheeks.

"Christ I'm sorry. I'm such a little bitch." You mumbled, laughing as you wiped away the rest of your tears. Mark laughed with you.

"No, you're fine." He replied. You sighed, walking further into the kitchen to examine the cake. Your eyes watered again as you stared at the design. It was all four of the dogs in a simple cartoony design.

As you stared at the cake, you began to cry more. It had never dawned on you until now that you were actually leaving. Like, you knew, you just never really thought about it. You didn't think about the fact that you wouldn't get to see your friends as often. You didn't think about how you didn't need to wake up early every morning for University. You didn't think about how you no longer had to listen to your upstairs neighbor stomp around all day. None of that had crossed your mind.

You closed your eyes before coughing. You cleared your throat before looking at them, fond smiles and teary eyes included. You smiled, bigger than you ever had. You were sure that nothing would make you happier than this moment right here. It couldn't be possible.

"I don't know what to say, you guys... It's amazing..." You said, trailing off and staring at the cake. Mark smiled.

"Well... I say we eat some cake!" He shouted. You laughed quietly before you nodded.

"Of course, of course... But I think we should open presents first." You replied, your joking personality flooding the happy tears away. Laughs were exchanged, and you made your way to the table, picking up the first box.

>> timeskip <<

A little bit of time had passed before you began cutting the cake. You smiled, placing the fork between your lips and savoring the sweet taste. You laughed quietly, glancing at the camera in Amy's arms. You looked away when Mark sat down, knowing he was about to speak.

"Okay... We have about four more hours until (Y/n) has to leave. So... We have four hours to give him the best time he'll ever have so he'll forget about pursuing his dream and miss his flight and he'll never go to London." He said. You laughed along with the others.

"Very funny." You replied. He shrugged.

"It was worth a shot." He said with a smile. You were about to speak again before you heard your phone ring. You picked it up, glancing at the screen to see that it was your mom.

"Gimme a sec, guys. It's the she-devil." You said jokingly and answering the call.

"What's up Mom?" You asked. Your face fell as she began speaking frantically. Your eyes widened, and you stood up quickly.

"What? Yeah... I'm on my way. Bye." You said, hanging up and grabbing your keys.

"Christ guys, I'm so sorry... This was so incredibly sweet, and I can't thank you enough, but I have to go." You said, grabbing your presents and calling (D/n). Mark stood up, walking towards you.

"Wait (Y/n), what's wrong?" He asked, obviously concerned. You glanced at him, frightened to even say it yourself.

"It's my dad."

[slingspeacea]

☆ // SUBJECT: THE EARP HOMESTEAD. LOCATION: PURGATORY, COLORADO

a collection of research exploring the idea, that if not for wynonna earp’s low budget and physical filming location, purgatory and its key landmarks should have been based in the united states,            around the colorado river specifically.  !important: earp roleplayers are more than welcome to also adopt this divergence if they agree with it, and may 100% feel free to REBLOG this post. please remember when interacting with my character, in all verses, that they are from purgatory, colorado, and not from canada. if after reading this, you feel bothered, please let me know and we can absolutely follow writers’ show canon in our threads!!

☆  // WARNING!!

this divergence is strongly opinionated. the writers of the show have confirmed the plot setting for the television series wynonna earp, is in fact located in alberta, canada. i am 100% aware that alberta is absolute show canon. however, as a roleplayer, creative writer, and western fanatic, i can neither ignore, nor let wyatt earp and doc holliday’s history get completely washed away for the sake of filming convenience. make no mistake. i love the show, the storyline, and i love the characters immensely;  but because of both the comic book series, and nonfictional history, their story’s location does not make any sense to me or add up at all. 

☆  // PART I. WYATT’S JOURNEY.

first, let’s begin with wyatt earp’s original routes and a few historical events. i’ve taken the time, and mapped wyatt and doc holliday’s trail out below in order. they were obviously riding on horseback and taking ferries or trains, so they wouldn’t have been using main roads or highways ( although busy trails later became paved highways and roads throughout america ). at only one point does wyatt travel through canada and it is during his two, long journeys to alaska. as you can see below, he really goes nowhere near alberta or calgary on his way to his next stop, seattle, washington. 

it would make way more sense for purgatory to be located somewhere in the united states, in one of the towns wyatt earp lived or stayed in for a prolonged period of time. not to mention the old west  is well... united states history, and all notable events regarding the old west happened in the states. the original 1993 wynonna earp comics even pay homage to places like tombstone ( and can i mention when the t.v series says they’re loosely based on the comics, they are hardly anything like them? like barely even remotely? ). it mentions white trash and trailer parks, hill billys, pabst blue ribbon, you name every southern stereotype, and they cover it. no surprise, it is based in america.

“ two u.s. marshals and a sheriff lie dead in san diablo, new mexico. when marshal wynonna earp hits the trail to bring the killers to justice, she uncovers connections to a devastating new drug...and a pack of redneck vampires! modern firepower and frontier justice --that's wynonna. “          wynonna earp, comic issue #1, summary.

but that’s totally besides the point, and another post probably worth making entirely. let’s get back to the real wyatt earp and docs holliday’s actual history. below are some maps, and i’ve linked bigger versions so they’re easier for y’all to see.

larger map images for reference:     a,   b,   c.

exhibit one: map a.  ↳ this displays his route from dodge city in 1875, up until his last ride to los angeles where he would also die in 1923. this map is all prior to docs death specifically, which is extremely important. why? because doc had obvious connections to both constance clootie and bulshar. this has become even even more so evident in season 3. wyatt earp did not travel through canada until after docs actual death. this alone raises a red flag as someone who thinks placing purgatory in canada was an easy cop-out by show writers, and as someone who often ponders plot holes in the show’s storyline. 

another point i have to to stress, is that a majority of wyatt earp’s time with doc holliday throughout life was spent in the southwestern united states. their stomping grounds are where a majority of the route lines cross on the map, and they traveled between each of those cities, owning saloons, gambling, hunting outlaws, etc.. countless times. i’ll have more to add about this later under section iii, which heavily regards the revenants.

exhibit two: map b. ↳ map b is probably the most important of all three. it depicts what his ride would have looked like from wrangell, ak to nome, and then from wrangell, ak to seattle, wa. google maps actually wouldn’t let me map the whole thing through from idaho and washington to alaska, because fun fact, you have to fly and take ferries to get around from the usa to those alaskan towns. phew, can you imagine wyatt’s adventure to alaska on horseback and water?? his wife actually tried to stop him from making the journey because she was pregnant at the time, but of course, he saw an opportunity for wealth and didn’t listen.

alberta is a far stretch out of the way. he would have had to go over or around the canadian rockies, and since he was traveling to and from alaska from either washington state and/or idaho with a clear destination in mind, it would make no logical sense whatsoever. the red triangle, accurately labeled show’s location wtf??  is where the show’s canon ghost river triangle is located. i know what you’re probably thinking, they never say it straight up in the series,             but writer’s confirmation aside, upon researching there is one particular episode which gave us show purgatory’s exact location right away. here is a picture of waverly in s01e03, with a map of purgatory. . . and here is another .... and now here is an actual, real map which indisputably matches waverly’s layout. note: those are not my screencaps, you can find the original post i got them from here !!

exhibit three: map c. ↳ vildal, california is where he built his home in 1911.  the earps bought a small cottage in vidal, the only home they ever owned. beginning in 1911 and until Wyatt's health began to fail in 1928, Wyatt and sadie earp summered in Los Angeles and spent the rest of the year in the desert working their claims. The "happy days" mine was located in the whipple mountains a few miles north of vidal.  wyatt had some modest success with the happy days gold mine, and they lived on the slim proceeds of income from that and oil wells.  ( source:  wikipedia. )

so, my question is likely the biggest plot hole in the whole freaking television series. how the heck did wyatt’s family homestead end up all the way near calgary, alberta, canada?? the show writers ignore this entirely and uses an insane amount of liberties. wyatt never had any children to begin with, but if one wants to paint the picture of family, love, loyalty, and closeness as they do on the show, i would think that the earps would have remained somewhere closer to wyatt’s grave. at the very least in the same country.

the other major thing to take into consideration, is that by the time map b and map c were traveled, real doc holliday was also dead and no longer amongst the living. i bet your thinking,  ❝   okay so maybe vidal, california would have been an alright place for the show to take place, since that was wyatt’s actual only home.  ❞  and i totally agree, but the more i thought about making this wynonna’s hometown and ground zero for the homestead, the harder i could picture the gang there. problem is, the landscape is nothing but desert. it’s hot and arrid. in vidal there are there are no prairie winds, or great plains, or chinook rocky mountain sunsets. on the show we see mountains, rivers, forests, and more importantly, large amounts of snow. 

this leads the divergence trail back to none other than the myth, the man, and the legend, doc holliday. let’s dive a little more into his relationship with wyatt in the next section.

☆  // PART II. DOC AND WYATT.

how wyatt and doc met in history & the show. ↳ earp had run two cowboys out of wichita earlier in 1878. during the summer, the two cowboys—accompanied by another two dozen men—rode into dodge and shot up the town while galloping down front street. they entered the long branch saloon, vandalized the room, and harassed the customers. hearing the commotion, earp burst through the front door, and before he could react, a large number of cowboys were pointing their guns at him. 

in another version, there were only three to five cowboys. in both stories, holliday was playing cards in the back of the room and upon seeing the commotion, drew his weapon and put his pistol at morrison's head, forcing him and his men to disarm, rescuing earp from a bad situation. no account of any such confrontation was reported by any of the dodge city newspapers at the time. whatever actually happened, earp credited holliday with saving his life that day, and the two men became friends.

how wyatt and doc actually parted ways in history. ↳  according to a letter written by former new mexico territory governor miguel otero, wyatt and holliday were eating at fat charlie's the retreat restaurant in albuquerque, "when holliday said something about earp becoming 'a damn jew-boy.' earp became angry and left…." holliday and dan tipton arrived in pueblo, colorado in late april 1882. ( source: wikipedia. )

doc’s death in real history. ↳ in 1887, prematurely gray and badly ailing, holliday made his way to the hotel glenwood, near the hot springs of glenwood springs, colorado. he hoped to take advantage of the reputed curative power of the waters, but the sulfurous fumes from the spring may have done his lungs more harm than good. as he lay dying, holliday is reported to have asked the nurse attending him for a shot of whiskey. when she told him no, he looked at his bootless feet, amused. the nurses said that his last words were, "this is funny.”  holliday died at 10am on november 8, 1887. he was 36.

wyatt visited sick doc before he died. ↳   wyatt heard of doc’s death shortly after he had died. he was close by in aspen, colorado at the time, and it’s thought that he may have visited doc before his death. josephine  earp told a story about sitting beside doc’s deathbed, but it’s thought that she may have confused this with another occasion ( because of old age ). she additionally gave an account of doc and wyatt’s last meeting in the lobby of a denver hotel. both men were quite upset and josie said that wyatt cried afterwards. there’s also a story that doc’s gun was also sent to wyatt although again not a lot of evidence to prove whether or not it’s true.

wynonna earp flashbacks. ↳   in s01e03, wyatt visited his bedside, where doc is very ill and lying down in a tent. it’s implied doc was resting, wyatt packed up his things for him, and dispite his sickness, earp keeps urging him to ride with him to purgatory. doc rejects knowing he can’t and says goodbye. this is likely right before he seeks out constance clootie for immortality, in whatever town they were in. there is no viable way his transformation could have happened in purgatory, because the church in wynonna’s vision quest later on was somewhere on the outskirts of town.

on the series, doc holliday had already come across constance clootie, and gained his immortality before the best friends had their argument and wyatt disowned him for becoming something of the devil’s work. wyatt also finally admits to his family being cursed. doc was also as equally heartbroken about wyatt’s opinion of his choice, and throughout the series, we see how deeply he considers and takes an earp’s opinion to heart. despite being set in modern years, and appended romantic aspects aside, his relationship with wynonna mirrors that of his and wyatts.  

consider that wyatt already killed constance clootie’s sons, and bulshar clootie is the man he was fixed on punishing for cursing him. it’s entirely plausible doc followed closely behind wyatt’s tail after being shunned, and that wherever wyatt was going was only a few days ride from doc’s staying place. the witch clootie admitted she turned doc ageless to hurt wyatt and succeeded, but we also know that where blushar goes, clootie is looking for vengeance. it’s conceivable to theorize certain suspicions such as, but not limited to; doc wanting take back his immortality due to wyatt’s rejection, and in turn while meeting clootie, got tossed with the final  seal into the well.

the “earp well” lol. ↳  we know doc winds up in a well , but it’s location seems to appear elsewhere from it’s original place on the earp property in season one’s pilot episode, to somewhere in a random forest, in s02ep08. the earp property is said by wynonna to be only 10 acres ( 0.125 sq miles ).  for a farm where you have to drive to get from point a to point b, this is not very large or inaccurate. all shots of the property are also mainly rolling farmland with no large forest vegetation resembling that of the well’s site. i’m going to chalk this discrepancy up to this scene having been in the pilot, having a low budget and limited choices for pilot filming location.

doc’s well was never on the actual earp property like some probably assume at first glance, but instead, somewhere else entirely. just go on ahead and re-watch. after retrieving peacemaker and talking to dolls, wynonna drives up to the purgatory town line, truck facing towards the town. it makes for a clear ( or not so clear ) clue hinting the well’s whereabouts. in s2ep08,  juan carlo takes wynonna outside of purgatory to the outskirts for her vision quest. the well is clearly located in that area and tied heavily to the flashback in the church. from a teen wynonna was a drifter. she could have stashed the gun in an abandoned well anywhere, somewhere safe, and no where too close to the homestead.  but here is another thought, doc and wynonna’s fates were entwined, so who knows? maybe she felt specifically drawn to that area and frequented there to clear her head when she was younger. merely a concept.

finally, bobos imprisonment in the well further proves it’s located elsewhere, since revenants can't step foot on earp land without being burned. this gives us some room to play for setting up wynonna earp’s story in colorado.

tying history and flashbacks together. ↳  this is where it gets complicated, where it’s hard to put things into words, and where my divergence really starts, because the show canon entirely ignores actual history when it comes to the true separation and deaths of both of these men.  we have no clue as to the location in either of these flashbacks on the show, but we do see wyatt is wearing a jacket and scarf. it’s apparently cold outside so there’s at least that to work with. the state of colorado has cold winters, which also works in this divergence’s favor.

if the real doc holliday died in glenn springs, colorado, and the real wyatt earp was in aspen, colorado around the time of his death, we could place purgatory somewhere in that area. doc faked his death on the series, between the time he decided he would became immortal, and the time he was thrown in the well shortly after. sewing these realities together puts purgatory in colorado. doc’s death would make the location default. in regards to the comic taking place in the deserts of the united states, this divergence will also have that covered later on.

the canadian show takes an extreme with creative freedoms and gives no resolution  whatsoever as to how wyatt earp somehow settled down in alberta, candada ( did they even do their fact checking?? ) or how every family member has lived there ever since. the actual wyatt earp had no children, and his home was and will always historically be in vidal, california. 

so, let’s make this more believable. what if in another universe that isn’t real history, but makes a hell of a lot more sense when unified with the show’s,            wyatt earp made a home in colorado after bulshar was buried?  not only close to where is thought to be his best friends grave, but where he can keep an eye on, and protect, bulshar’s remains until he dies? bobo moved him, but where were they prior? on the show wyatt is also said to have been partially involved in entombing bulshar’s body. therefore, this explanation would make 100% total sense as to why wyatt and his wife never made it to vidal, california. his life’s journey would have been stopped dead in its tracks, so he could keep the demon who cursed his family from the widows, and make sure bulshar never returned. one could claim, in a historically based, fictional western series, that wyatt earp built a ranch because of this, and settled down with his wife in a town called purgatory, colorado.

☆  // PART III. WYATT’S CURSE, THE REVS, & THE GHOST RIVER TRIANGLE.

wyatt earp’s curse. ↳  the earp curse makes all people that wyatt earp had killed in his lifetime resurrect over and over again. those revenants can only be killed by the peacemaker which only the current heir can use.           wait a minute. wynonna voice: say whaaaat?? wyatt never killed multiple people in canada. at any point in history. how would the 77 people he killed even get to canada if revenants can’t leave the ghost river triangle in the first place??         can you say, major woops? this is personally my favorite fudge up.

the ghost river triangle. ↳  the ghost river triangle is an area of cursed land, partially framed by the splitting of the ghost river into two, that imprisons the resurrected outlaws killed by wyatt earp. should a revenant cross the boundary line, they experience hell on earth. to quote waverly, in leavin' on your mind: '...everything from the mountains to where the north and south ghost rivers meet, forms the ghost river triangle. it cuts through the big city, contains thousands of square miles of forest, foothills, prairie, the badlands. and all of it...cursed.'

forest, foothills, prairie, and badlands? yeah, if we want to place divergent purgatory somewhere in the united states to make the show a little more historically accurate, the ghost river triangle definitely parallels to none other than the colorado river. the colorado river runs through colorado, utah, arizona, nevada, california, and all the way down to mexico. at least three of those states were in fact, wyatt’s stomping grounds before and after his historically recorded vendetta ride. 

not to go with some total, mythical, movie cliche here, but in an alternative wynonna world set in the united states, the ghost river triangle could have also been named by the native americans who inhabited the land along the colorado river. factually, many parts of the colorado river are actually suspected to be haunted. let’s not get too carried away, though. alberta canada is in fact home of a real place called the ghost river valley, and there’s totally no disputing that.

wyatt’s vendetta ride ↳  in history the vendetta ride was a deadly search, where wyatt lead a federal posse for outlaw cowboys they believed had ambushed, and maimed virgil earp and killed morgan earp. the earp brothers had been attacked in retaliation for the deaths of three cowboys in the gunfight at the o.k. corral on october 26, 1881. from march 20 to april 15, 1882, the federal posse searched southeast cochise county, arizona territory for suspects in both virgil's and morgan's attacks. several suspects had been freed by the court, owing in some cases to legal technicalities and in others to the strength of alibis provided by cowboy confederates. up to this point, wyatt had relied on the legal system to bring the cowboys to justice. now he felt he had to take matters into his own hands.

i could be wrong, but i have a feeling the chase for bulshar is loosely based on this part of wyatt earp’s history. the parallel of his two own brothers dying, and two of clootie’s sons dying, is a little thought provoking, no? coincidental even? an eye for an eye, perhaps? there is a lot of wyatt’s history left to be uncovered and explored, and that’s if the show writers even decide to reveal anything else at all. on the show, wyatt got innocent people killed, there was one hell of a lot of collateral damage surrounding him. 

i feel 100% comfortable standing firmly by the headcanon that after wyatt was cursed and his brothers were killed, that he went on a tear after bulshar and destroyed anyone who got in his way. this is important, because these events could be tied to his life in tombstone, arizona, and the events which took place in and after the shootout at the OK corral. if he was cursed in tombstone, then there is no way around it,          one of the ghost river triangle’s points would have to begin there.

the revmap, i mean . . . revamp. ↳ below is a map which bases a divergent ghost river triangle heavily off of history. it takes into consideration doc holliday and wyatt earp’s routes, where doc’s last known whereabouts were, where wyatt would have killed the most men, and finally, his vendetta ride. in total the divergent river triangle’s perimeter is about 2,500 miles and takes 36 hours nonstop to drive. in contrast, the show’s ghost river triangle is 617 miles and takes about only an easy 12 hours to drive from point to point. purgatory is west of denver, and the homestead is about where the house icon is.   ( larger image version is here. )

yeah okay, so the size may be of some issue, but vastness aside, there are three things this triangle does have, that the other doesn’t. firstly, historical accuracy. it includes nearly all of the areas where a number of wyatt’s targets made their peace. if we tie back to wyatt’s vendetta ride and the whole paralleling idea for a moment, many of the revenants who rode with bulshar would've died in various areas of colorado and the purgatory area. secondly, the terrain might aid with narrowing revenant whereabouts down. deserts and mountains surround a majority of these iconic towns.          and lastly another argument can be made that because some revenants do want to end the earp line, few might've simply migrated to colorado and placed themselves somewhere closer within wynonna’s line of fire.

i could continue ridiculously blabbering on and on about why i chose this location divergence for my character. everything from climate, to terrain, and how there are salt flats in utah nearby, or my really strong distaste for how the show writers erased wyatt earp and doc holliday’s real history,            but in honesty i think everything i’ve covered above nicely sums up my research and premise. anywhooo, that’s all for now folks, hope you enjoyed the read!