#i own damaged and my war on vinyl DO NOT @ ME

[mechamastermind]

Piecing it together

So this is a better formatted version of an idea I came up with during a reblog, but this one is more well put together and honestly less cringey, I wrote the other in a fit of excitement, but I believe it to hold some merit, but here we go. 

This is my entire thoughts on Neon J, including what I think to be his secrets. 

First off, the facts 

Neon J was a toy maker, Fact. 

During the 1010 boss battle after Neon J has been defeated he exclaimed about the things he did in an event called the “Border war”, he was deployed to mountains. He’s had military service, fact. 

He exclaims about the things he’s done in the name of NSR with some regret, “The things i’ve done in the name of the NSR!! I would not wish upon my worst enemies!!” Fact. 

He clearly has a face and lungs, at least believes he as them as he says as much about himself, but this much cannot be confirmed as we do not see the “Blood he spills from his mouth.” but i’ll get into that later. 

He mentions how he has been changed, with somberness in his voice “Oh, what have I become... I have... changed so much.” 

He talks about home as if it was another location “Home? I remember what home was like...” and continues to speak about it as if he’s no longer there. He also speaks of “His people” which is a very vague point as we do not know what his “people” are, but with the context of how he’s speaking it’s safe to assume he’s actually not from Vinyl city, but i’ll get into that later. 

He mentions his deployment to the Azkar faction, in the year ‘68. which I find ESPECIALLY INTERESTING, Azkar faction, not Vinyl city. And furthermore through the ridges of Kewan. Further going on to mention how cold it was, “The chill was enough to brittle the spirit of any battle hardened warrior.”

He then mentions mountains, and how he only had a parachute and compass in his pack. 

Sadly that’s the last piece of dialogue we get from him, but I think enough has been said for me to piece together something of a narrative, so here it goes. 

I believe Neon J is a war veteran, that much is obvious, but there’s something deeper here. I believe he was a human before this border war, a full blooded human, and in fact was a simple toy maker. until this Azkar faction came and started this “Border war”, now I do not believe that Neon J lived in Vinyl city itself, at least not at first. What I believed happened was he lived in a nearby territory, that was then invaded by this Azkar faction... or... was the azkar faction? It’s hard to determine, but he clearly has some passion and love for the NSR empire, so I believe the NSR came to his people’s aid, much like a world war 2 situation, where it was not the NSR vs the Enemy, but rather the enemy invaded and NSR came to their aid. 

Neon would then volunteer to join the military, he’s patriotic enough that I believe it wasn’t just a draft. He would join the navy. if we take a look at his attire I believe it’s obvious he was in the equivalent of the Navy. His Limo is a battleship afterall. but I think it goes deeper than that. I think he was a part of the NSR equivalent of the Navy Seals. and I’ll go into my reasoning here shortly. 

He clearly is a decorated soldier, as he has some medals on his coat that he wears to this day. 

I think the way he is designed plays a big part into why he’s a navy seal equivalent. Looking at his modern day design, he’s clearly very slender and elegantly designed, not some front line combative unit, and his radar face determines that perhaps he has devices in him that can determine distance, since he has a lack of eyes, he might have a spotting device like many sniper pairs have. Yes, sniper pairs. Snipers are deployed with Spotters who use their equipment to watch where the sniper hit, and adjust for their aim in the unlikely case they miss. I believe Neon was transformed into being both the Sniper and Spotter, built in with spotting equipment, his radar, and of course expert marksmanship. 

It would also perfectly explain his deployment location, ridges and mountains are perfect locations for snipers, not front line soldiers. 

So he’s a navy seal sniper fighting in a cold environment during a border war. 

but there’s more, I believe he was at some point fully human, and that his “Changes” that he regrets, are physical changes to his body, either done as attempts to save his body after severe injuries, or upgrades performed by the NSR to increase his combat effectiveness. Either way, his body has not become accustomed to the augmentations even all these years later. He mentions his blood, his mouth, and his lungs, as he coughs at Zuke. but we do not see any of these things, and taking a look at his design, no matter how cartoony it may be, you cannot tell me that he has a head, there is no way, that is a flat radar monitor on top, imagine fitting your head into a flat screen or laptop monitor. I believe he is suffering from a severe case of Phantom limb syndrome. Now i’m no expert, I will not claim to be, but I do believe it’s possible for a human, who’s been augmented to the point of no return, to still believe they are performing normal human things, like bleeding, coughing, possessing lungs and a mouth, when it is shown otherwise. 

I believe he has a highly decorated deployment record, but here i’ll get into a point that’s more speculative, as I have determined his kill count potentially, and it will shock you. 

in our world, the sniper with the one of the highest kill counts, was a man by the name of Simo Häyhä, a finnish sniper who had 505 confirmed kills, during his deployment in a winter war. 

A sniper deployed to a frozen environment? Sounds familiar if you ask me. 

but it goes further. 

With all his augmentations it’s safe to assume that Neon J, with his spotter equipment, is twice as effective as the best human, it’s just safe to say a robot is at least twice as good as any human, especially a military grade android/cyborg. and what do you get when you multiply 505 by two? 

1010. 

Pretty crazy right? actually yes, at the moment I have no way to confirm his actual number of kills, but I think 1010 is a fair bare minimum for his kill count, and would warrant a regret like “I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemies.”  

it’s also stated that he was deployed for several years, so having a kill count like 1010, for an augmented robot soldier sniper with built in spotting equipment, is reasonable I believe. 

I will now summarize my points. 

Neon J (If that is his real name) was a humble toy maker from a neighboring territory that was absorbed into the NSR empire after the NSR came to their aid during a border war. He signed up and joined the navy seals equivalent of the NSR as one of their best, if not their best Sniper. over his deployment to the frozen ridges and mountains, he sustained damage, and this most likely was the source of all his augmentations as he slowly was modified with spotter technology built into his hardware. No longer needing a spotter on his sniper deployments, he became more and more like an assassin, possibly holding down entire choke points or taking out high ranking members of the opposition during his many years, potentially 1010, but that’s just a rough estimation and a fun number to say. But more importantly, I think he’s suffering from a form of Phantom limb syndrome, where his mind and body have still not entirely adjusted to his augmentations, as he mentions his blood and face, despite both very clearly not being there, and I would not leave it up to the cartoony design of the game, you cannot fit a face into his radar, his radar which I believe was his primary sniper augmentation, as it took over the place of his spotter partner for him, and allowed him to go solo. He was highly decorated when he came back, but was not the same man he once was. as now, the war has been built into him, and thus, he treats everything like combat, even his own sons are like soldiers, he cares for them immensely, but every aspect of his life has now become ingrained with his service as a navy sniper, the outfits, the themes, his mannerisms, even his limo is a battleship. and seeing as the NSR has only been around for a decade or two, it’s safe to assume this is just a few years after his deployment, so him battling with the changes made to his body, the things he did for the NSR (Which could range from simple sniping, to full on solo assassination missions) and him still coping with no longer being in the military, is not only reasonable, but it explains alot. 

If I think of anything else, i’ll make a follow up post, or edit this one. 

but for now, let’s show him some more love, as he still seems to be fighting his own wars, internally. 

Have a lovely day, and stay safe soldiers. <3

[coline7373]

Teen Wolf Recc List: My Top Favourite!!!

A Non-Exhaustive List Of My Most Beloved Sterek Fics

(not even the good ones made it there, just My Favourite Ones)

 @isthatbloodonhisshirt @someofusarequeer @grimreaperlover11 @offeringpeoplegumisnotcooking @samslave @namelessfanficreader @yes-yo-yum @sideeffectofthedrug @maia-nebula @citrustree @thegilewhodreamswhileawake @teen-wolf-reimagined @ohhoechyasss @theanarik @she-was-the-universe16 @stilesgrumpysourwolf @obscenitied @butimtheuglytwin @alienace

NUMBER ONE IN MY HEART !!!!!

Waiting

Not wanting to think on it took much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth.

“Not too close, he bites.”

Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting.

“He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton.

The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.”

“Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek.

He looked extremely displeased.

Words : 81015

Tags : Alpha Derek, Feral Derek, Magical Derek, Possessive Derek, Chosen As Yearly Sacrificed Caretaker Of The Beacon Hill Beast Stiles, Compassionate Stiles, Werewolves Are People, Respecting What And Who You Don’t Understand, Hale Line Is Connected To The Nemeton Who Is Connected To Beacon Hill, Jackson Is A Douche, Stiles Is Awesome https://archiveofourown.org/works/15503010/chapters/35989302

  Number Two !!!!

Don't Savage The Messenger

There is an uneasy truce between the werewolves in the woods and the humans who live in Beacon Hills, protected by a magical boundary that gives warning any time a werewolf crosses it. Then the sheriff is taken by the werewolves and his son offers himself in exchange.

Stiles promises to serve the werewolf pack, not knowing what horrible use they might have for him. But it turns out his most useful skill is the ability to cross the boundary line between humans and werewolves. Life with the werewolves is nothing like he feared and the werewolves themselves are nothing like the hunters' stories would have him believe.

Words : 172379

Tags : Werewolf Are Known, Sort Of, They Live In Separate Territories Humans Don’t Have Access To, Cold Racial War, Discrimination, Rape Threats, Non Sexual Endenture, Emissary Stiles, Just Amazing, Alpha Peters, But He’s good At It, Big Pack

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3943051/chapters/8837323

  Number Three !!!

Home

January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.

So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

Words : 167178

Tags : Dead Sheriff, Derk and Peter are the Only Survivors of the Fire, Derek is the Alpha from the Start, Derek lives in a Mansion, Punch to the Freaking Guts, Emotionally Damaging, So Sad, Be Ready to Cry Your Heart Out, But Happy Ending, Will Leave Grief in Your Throat and Warmth in Your Heart, Masterpiece, Beautifull Fanarts, All The Feels, Very Intimate

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195734?view_full_work=true

   Number Four !!!

With or Without You

Derek thinks that the mating rituals are overly romanticized bullshit, but claiming a mate and defending them from challengers is something werewolves do, and his pack can't afford to appear weak after the fire. Especially not when Deucalion and his friends are in town for the rituals. Enter Stiles Stilinski, who offers to let Derek claim him so he won't be overrun at the ceremonies. Nothing goes as expected.

Words : 62556

Tags : Alive Laura, Alpha Laura, Cora and Peter Are Alive, Mating Games, Think Mating Run But Hunger Games Version Without The Killing Each Other, Smart Stiles, Murder Mystery, Werewolf Politics, Werewolf Are Known, Action

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070471/chapters/2148020

  Number Five !!!

Sell Your Body to the Night

"No," he repeated impatiently. "I'm not a cop. I'm someone who wants to exchange my money for your sexual services. I was told you were in that line of work."

"I, uh, yeah, sorry," Stiles said. He glanced around again and then up--the full moon was almost directly overhead. Just one of those nights, maybe. "Yeah, I am. I do that."

Words : 121553

Tags : Heartbreak, Dead Sheriff, Prostitute Stiles, Stiles Is Not A Victim, Stiles Is Not Your Pretty Woman Waiting For Richard Geer, Stiles Will Save Money Then Himself, But He Doesn’t Have To, Derek Know Who He Is, One Bad Decision Per Month, Lots Of Sex And Grief, Kinky Kinks Who Kink, Aliva Laura, Alpha Laura https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838161/chapters/6366899

 There's Monsters at Home

“How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.

The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.”

Derek despised him.

Words : 83600

Tags : Kind Of Five Times But Each Times Is Long, Alpha Derek, Failwolf Derek, Badass Magical Stiles, Older Stiles Than In The Show But The Others Have The Same Age

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1730159/chapters/3689288

  One Dollar Yoda

Stiles is an unbonded spark, so he's been dealing with courting alphas since he was ten. It's gotten a lot worse since he turned sixteen. Some are assholes, some are nice, but Stiles hasn't wanted to spend the rest of his life bound to any of them.

When Derek Hale shows up at his school, Stiles expects him to be just another asshole alpha attempting to buy him with expensive gifts. But Derek Hale puts no effort whatsoever into his courtship gifts. Stiles ought to be offended but instead he finds it refreshing.

Words : 10578

Tags : Humour, Spark Stiles, Werewolves Are Known, Reluctant Courtship

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4797854/chapters/10980425

  Darling It Is No Joke

The first thing Stiles thinks when he opens the door is that it’s not his birthday, but someone has sent him some kind of cop stripper.

 Words : 13250

Tags : Stiles is a little shit, So is Derek

https://archiveofourown.org/works/399194

  Lock All The Doors Behind You

He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.

Words : 25960

Tags : Feral Derek ; Early seasons

https://archiveofourown.org/works/522776

  Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK -- Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Words : 35197

Tags : Pack Feels ; Early seasons but No Peter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/822737

  Every Step You Take

Stiles accidentally ends up magically bound to Derek. It’s super.

Words :49347

Tags : Foced Bonding, Derek and Stiles do NOT like it

https://archiveofourown.org/works/454948?view_full_work=true

  All you're giving me is friction

Stiles is Alpha bait

Words : 4707

Tags : Funny, Possessive Derek, The Alpha Pack is full of Hot Young Men who Want To Steal Stiles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/522549

  Fly a Little Faster

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?

Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?

Words : 32052

Tags : Accidental Time-Travel with a dash of tragedy and a dash of humour, Peter is a Lying Liar Who Lies

https://archiveofourown.org/works/900839

  Prince Among Wolves

Looking for full day/evening sitter. 2 twin boys age 4. Must have exp. w/werewolves. Must be human. No pedophiles. No teenage girls. Pay negotiable.

Words : 101 000

Tags : Werewolves Are Known, Nanny Stiles, Businessman Derk, Cold Derek at First, Derek work All the Times But For Good Reasons, Kate is the Children’s Mother, Trans Child, Derek is Middly Transphobic at First, Learning to Become a Parent, Credible Children (not impossibly developped and sassy yet don’t know how to speak english)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/538425?view_full_work=true

 Electricity In the Contact

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Words : 27067

Tags : Scent-Marking, Fake/Pretend, Mates, Knotting, Funny

https://archiveofourown.org/works/664623/chapters/1213111

  Don't Worry Baby

"You know you're allowed to ask for vanilla sex, right?" he says, afterwards. "We can do whatever you want. That's kind of the point."

Derek doesn't respond.

Words : 20276

Tags : Prostitute Stiles Turned Kept Boy, Fucked-Up Derek Who Need A Boyfriend, Porn & Feels, Knotting, Possessive Derek, Lot of Soft Feels, Good Friend Scott

https://archiveofourown.org/works/639852

  Sideways and Slantways and Longways and Backways

“I called you a slave-driver!” Stiles cried hysterically. “I called you an ogre! I stole all the blue paperclips!” Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s company property!” he shouted, waving his arms madly in distress. Derek ran a hand over his face. “It’s not theft if the vice president of the company gives you permission.”  (Otherwise known as the Elevator AU)

Words : 7 799

Tags : Humans AU, Office AU, Funny

https://archiveofourown.org/works/570582

  What I Did On My Summer Vacation

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

Words : 118749

Tags : Sherif Moved In BH Whiles Stiles Was In College, Stiles Is Just Here For The Summer, Alive Laura, Derek Is The Alpha From The Start, The Nemeton is Connected to The Town, Near Eveyone In BH IS In The Known, The Town Is Pack, Magic, Made Of Awesome

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1881024/chapters/4052355

  Five Times the Sheriff Found Derek Hale in His Son's Bedroom

There's a pattern Sheriff Stilinski just can't ignore.

Words : 3525

Tags : What the Title Said, Humour

https://archiveofourown.org/works/520371

  By Any Other Name

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

Words : 33090

Tags : Both Stiles And Derek Get Amnesia, They Make Assumptions About Who They Were, Action

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/BrilliantRecs/works/566258

  What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This?

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

Words : 196127

Tags : Not Crack, Serious And Real Issues With Impriting, Derek Is Seriously A Creep At First, This Is Not Cute But Scary, Alive Hale, Cop Derek, College Student Stiles, Mates, Stackson BroTP, Scott and Stiles Meet In College, Really Good, Not Twilight Level of Writing, Better

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18650299/chapters/44228674

  Pack Wars

Scott liked to call it the Great Pack Divide of 2012.

Derek liked to call Scott an idiot.

(Or the one where Derek kidnaps Stiles to teach Scott a lesson, and ends up learning a few things himself)

Words : 158626

Tags : Kidnapping Taken Lightly By The Captors But Not The Kidnapee, Angst And Humour, Pack Dynamics, Learning When You Think You’re Going To Teach A Lesson

https://archiveofourown.org/works/641269/chapters/1162823

   here is the deepest secret nobody knows

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

Words : 22322

Tags : Pack-Mom Stiles, Pack Feels, Stiles And Erica Are Bro, Derek Doesn’t Know How To Do Feelings, Post Seeason 2 So Jackson Is There

https://archiveofourown.org/works/529219

  Divided We Stand

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

Words : 156742

Tags : Lenghty, Plotty, And It’s A Serie, If You WAnt To Be Occupied For Days Here You Are, Werewolf Are Know, Searching Ceremonies, Mate, Alive Hale, Pack Dynamics, Den Maker Stiles, Antagonisitc Talia, She Will Come Around But At The End, Sass Master Peter, Courtship, Detective Stiles, Seriously, Such A Good Serie, So Much Plot, Very Interesting

https://archiveofourown.org/works/877251/chapters/1686486

  Love Runs Wild

"You've got a hickey on the back of your neck!" A Neckz 'n Throats story.

Words : 9494

Tags : For Those Who Are New To TW Fandom Or Lived Under A Rock, Neck’n Throat is An AU Fanon Porn Mag Targeted Toward Werewolf Audience, And It’s Awesome, Possessive Derek, Model Derek, Model Stiles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/771875

  Mated

Stiles already had a history with skin magazines for werewolves. It wasn't like he was new at this, even if his modeling portfolio was completely pathetic. He was cool and collected. He was a jaded professional. He was not at all prepared for working with Derek Hale.

Words : 37712

Tags : Necks ‘n Throat, Model Derek, Model Stiles, Past Exploitation, Past Offscreen Torture And Rape, Kate Argent Is Her Own Warning, Jackson And Lydia And Scott and Allison And Stiles Are All Friends, Derek Is A Hale Outcast, Alive Hale, Laura Is A Good Sister But A Forcefull One, Angst And Humour, The Best Revenge Is life Lived Well, Leaping Wall Of Love

https://archiveofourown.org/works/781844?view_full_work=true

   My Heart Comes Tumbling Down

"This is a casual, adult relationship based on sex, and it is awesome." In which Stiles and Derek have a great time buddyfucking until a burrito ruins it all.

Words : 5689

Tags : Assumption, Discrimination Toward Hot People, Stiles Think Being A Hot Man Makes You Automatically A Player And He’s Wrong, Stiles Discover Sex, Derek Discover Feelings Again

https://archiveofourown.org/works/781057

  Love So Hard, It Could Rip My Heart Out

Stiles is seventeen, and his best friend is drifting away, and his dad isn't speaking to him, so he's going to make some bad decisions. He's seventeen and he needs bad decisions to look back on when he's thirty, and nothing is a worse decision than Derek Hale. He'll let the Big Bad Wolf in, let him press Stiles down into the couch and he'll wrap his arms around him and he'll know it's a bad choice, but it's his, and Derek is here when no one else is.

Words : 7552

Tags : Stiles Think Being A Hot Man Makes You Automatically A Player And He’s Wrong, Stiles Discover Sex, Derek Discover Feelings Again, Stilinski Family Feels, Angst But Hopefull Ending

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387474

  Single Parent, Multiple Problems

Derek tries really hard to do the right thing, Stiles thinks Derek's idea of the right thing is the wrong thing, and John does his best to help.

 "Is, uh--is Stiles home?" Hale is staring at the ground and his shoulders are so tense that John's tempted to say 'Boo!' just to see what'll happen.

Words :

Tags : Developping Sterek, Parenting Is Hard, Sheriff Is An Awesome Dad, Middle Of Season 2 But Melissa And John Know About Werewolves, Consent Is Sexy, Building Trust And A Relationship Before Sex

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161275

  Derelictions of Duty

No one wants to be the bearer of bad news to someone as nice as Sheriff Stilinski -- especially when he's your boss. That's why none of his employees want to be the first one to tell him about the scandalous goings-on between his only son and the former murder suspect Derek Hale. For all of their sakes, hopefully the Sheriff will find out all on his own...

(Or, 5 times a Beacon County Sheriff's Office employee witnesses the unique relationship between Stiles and Derek but neglects to tell the Sheriff and 1 time he witnesses it for himself.)

Words : 10846

Tags : Outsider POV, Mistaken For Being In A Relationship, Humour, Sheriff Is An Awesome Dad

https://archiveofourown.org/works/576645

   Scent Marking For Dummies

Stiles is almost used to being chased around the school by werewolves at this point. Having to share a bed with Derek freaking Hale, on the other hand, is just needlessly complicating his life.

Words : 8824

Tags : What The Tile Said, If Scent-Marking Is Your Kink, Go For it, Humourous Situations, Obvious Stiles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/702564

 That Which You Cannot Undo

By twenty-eight, Stiles has resigned himself to a quiet life of working in his magic shop, selling Jackson Whittemore fart-inducing tea, and looking after his goddaughter. It's a good life. But the quiet goes to hell when his sister, Lydia, shows up with a crispy werewolf in her trunk and a bite mark on her shoulder, because hard on her heels comes the hottest person Stiles has ever seen, and he happens to be looking for his uncle.

You know, the dead guy Stiles helped Lydia bury last night.

(Or: the Pracitical Magic AU nobody asked for.)

Words :28182

Tags : Lydia And Stiles Friendship, Orphan Stiles, Stiles Is Adopted By Lydia’s Moms, Magic Stiles, Single Parent Stiles Of His Goddaughter, Familial Love Curse, Dead Peter, Sweet Derek

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248274

  Wolf in the House

“What? It’s totally an improvement. He’s not scowling, or dating bad guys, or slinking around in unsanitary places. Still a bit paranoid, but what can you do. At least he’s a lot easier to get along with when you can buy his affections with ear rubs.”

“And you always wanted a dog,” Sheriff added wryly.

“And I always wanted a dog.”

Words : 33481

Tags : Trauma Induced Tansformation, Actual Wolf Derek, Unable to Speak or Rationalize Derek, Derek’s POV, Stilinski Family Feels, Pack Dynamic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3992896

  The Importance of Turning Around Three Times Before Lying Down

It’s like this dog has walked out of all of Stiles’ childhood dreams and into the real world just because Stiles wanted it hard enough. He is the most awesome dog ever, and he and Stiles have a bond. A deep, unbreakable bond because this animal is his soul mate, obviously. Now he just has to convince the dog of that.

Words : 31661

Tags : Alive Laura Hale, Actual Wolf Derek, Humour And Angst

https://archiveofourown.org/works/634774/chapters/1149039

  Little Wild Animal

Derek Hale finds a feral human on his pack's property. Humans are supposed to be extinct. But then, Stiles is full of surprises.

Words : 61036

Tags : Extinct Humans, Feral Stiles, Kind Derek, Alive Hale, Gender Fluid Child

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904933/chapters/8738758

  Introduction to Zero-Sum Anthropology

Stiles buys Derek a set of cooking spoons. Derek retaliates with lunch.

The war begins.

Words : 19773

Tags, Humour, Post Season 3A, Gifts War

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1817704

  You Don't See Straight

Stiles finds himself in a secret werewolf community to participate in a mating run. Sterek happens. Side OC's.

Words : 174981

Tags : Werewolf Community, Rape, Non Consensual Bonding, Non Consensual Mating Run, Xenophilia, Knotting, It Fuck Stiles, Derek Is Fucked Up Too, Big Paragraphs With Not A Lot Of Space, But It’s Good, Definitely Original

https://archiveofourown.org/works/441012?view_full_work=true

  Crash Landers

In which Stiles learns to Stalk That Stalk. (Or, how to accidentally woo your unfriendly neighborhood alpha in roughly five hundred handwritten steps.)

Words : 31173

Tags : Stiles Leaves Derek A Fake Parking Ticket And It Kind Of Get Away From HIm, Epistolary But Not Formally So, Senior Year Of High School Post Season 2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/539061

  Actions Speak Louder than Words

“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.”

That was a bad word. Not found.

Have.

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment.

Words : 434619 !!!!!!!!

Tags : Supernatural Are Known, Spark Stiles, Orphan Stiles Alpha Derek, Mute Derek, Cursed Derek, Dead Sheriff, Imprisonement, Stackson Brotp, Cora And Peter Are Alive, Stress Inducing, Badass Long Fic, Longest Completed Sterek Fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906259/chapters/52286296

  You are the Moon

Stuff Stiles doesn’t like to deal with first thing: hot, moist dog breath in his face, a cuddly werewolf creepifying his perfectly normal morning wood with shades of bestiality, and his dad holding his service revolver up against the skull of his bedmate, never mind the fact that his bedmate could possibly be a vicious unhinged rogue omega.

Words : 10055

Tags : Alive Laura, Werewolves Are Known, Derek Is Though To Be Dead, No Sense Of Personal Boundaries Derek

https://archiveofourown.org/works/515616

 Then You Think Again

"Holy crap!  Why the hell did you lie to incredibly powerful magical beings with trust issues?  How was that Plan A?"

Derek says, "We're not arguing about this, it's already done."

"Like hell we're not fighting about this," Stiles says, indignant.  "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking it was worth the risk if it kept you alive!  And it worked, so drop it."

"You had no idea that it was going to work!" Stiles throws his hands up.  Why is Derek the most frustrating werewolf in the history of ever, why is Stiles even helping him, why is this his life?  "Why did they even believe you in the first place?"

Derek says, "You reeked of me," which is unfair.  Stiles only smelled because he'd gotten covered in Derek's bodily fluids trying to staunch the bleeding.

Words : 22552

Tags : Hags, Hags Made Them Do It, The Forced Bonding I mean

https://archiveofourown.org/works/566131

   Bogarted

Alternate Title: "Dick Failwolf, Private Eye."

(Or, Derek's hit with a Film Noir curse, which forces him to narrate his own life in luridly-detailed prose.)

Words : 3126

Tags : Bottom Derek, Top Stiles, Truth Curse, Failwolf Derek, Fluff

https://archiveofourown.org/works/696371

  On Building an IKEA Den for an Alpha Werewolf.

Senior Prom is coming up, and Stiles doesn't have a date. Additionally, Derek has an unfurnished apartment, and no one to take him to IKEA.

Words : 13892

Tags : Pack Mom Stiles, House Making, Failwolf Derek, Cute, Domestic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/527100/chapters/933196

  The Alexandrian Solution

"I accept your body!" Stiles says hurriedly. "I accept you. Sexually."

There is a pause. Derek says, "Thanks."

Words : 5317

Tags : Knotting, Derek Didn’t Know It Was Possible, Humour, Fun Sex With Feels

https://archiveofourown.org/works/489654

  Father Knows Best

Sheriff Stilinski has finally figured out the cause of the rift between them: his son's gay, and he's effectively cut that line of communication. Being the good father that he is, he tries to make sure Stiles knows that he can tell him anything, especially about Derek Hale. Their wires seem to have gotten crossed somewhere.

Words : 5984

Tags : Humour, Miscommunication, Sheriff Love His Queer Son

https://archiveofourown.org/works/574959

  Things To Do On The Dates You Aren't Having

"So are we dating now or what?" Stiles asks the third time he finds himself doing the obligatory postcoital cuddling with a certain sour wolf.

Words : 5557

Tags : Humour, Stiles Bullied Derek Into Dating, Jackson in an Ahole And Lydia Is A BAMF

https://archiveofourown.org/works/406485

  we can take our time

Tact and social mores are completely relegated to the back of Derek’s brain, and without thinking, he blurts out, “Did you spend your heat alone?”

Stiles’ head jerks around in surprise, and then he flushes pink and looks away. His voice comes out brusque and unfriendly. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I spend every heat alone.”

Words : 17476

Tags : Cops Stiles And Derek, A/B/O, Alpha Derek, Omega Stiles, That’s How Consent Is Done And Respected, Very Real Thoughs On What Consent Is And How It Works In An A/B/O Setting

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9965375?view_full_work=true

  Come with Me and Walk the Longest Mile

"Stiles shouldn't accept rides from werewolves he meets behind abandoned convenience stores." In which the zombie apocalypse is just one of their worries.

Words : 39275

Tags : Zombie Apocalypse, Omega Stiles, Heat, Road Trip Of Survival

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697935?view_full_work=true

  Help Wanted

Nice things begin to happen to Derek Hale and it kind of freaks him out.

Words : 15593

Tags : What The Title Said, Classic Good Teen Wolf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/533677

  Come Fly With Me (Or Don't)

Stiles is overworked and stressed out when his flight home gets delayed due to copious amounts of snow. He finds entertainment with one Derek Hale, whom he hasn't seen since high school but really doesn't mind getting reacquainted with.

Especially when it turns out Derek is surprisingly hilarious and will reluctantly play snap with him. And can walk on his hands.

Words : 15319

Tags : Good Old Stucked In An Airport AU Because Of The Weather, Human AU

https://archiveofourown.org/works/609537

  The Chase

Derek's fourth Chase will be his last if he doesn't catch an omega this time. He's starting to doubt this whole soul-mate thing anyway, at least until someone from his past shows up and gives him the run of his life.

Words : 10435

Tags : Mating Run, Werewolf Everyone, Knotting, Alpha Derek, Omega Stiles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/848435

  pretty in tents

Even though he’s making fun of it, Stiles thinks the whole thing sounds awesome and, like most stuff these days, the experience is going to be totally wasted on Scott.

Words : 7657

Tags : Fake/Pretend Relationship, Werewolf Politics/Culture, Pack Dynamic, Stiles Is Awesome

https://archiveofourown.org/works/543994

  In Desperate Times

Stiles gets magic wish-granting powers, but only when he's in danger. He begins to teleport to Derek in increasingly awkward moments.

Words : 3454

Tags : What The Title Said, Awkward And funny, Those Two love Each Other Even If It Would Cut Them Up To Say So

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1391083

  Whatever Works

The problem with having your soulmate's first words to you tattooed on your arm is knowing your whole life that you're fated to be with a jerk. It's enough to make Stiles want to date other people ... which is how he winds up dating his soulmate's nephew.

Words : 61929

Tags, Asexual Derek, Aromantic Peter, Sexual And Romantic Stiles, Soul Mates, Not WHat You Expected But They Make It Work, Rich Hale, Just The Kids And Peter Are Alive, Corporate Thriller, Stiles Is Awesome, Peter Is Smart, Derek Is A Sweeheart

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943391/chapters/13665637

 ADHDecaf

Stiles is 25 and runs his own coffee shop. Derek doesn't know this. Derek, a mechanic, thinks that Stiles is 17 and jail-bait.

Misunderstandings ensue.

Words : 2765

Tags : Pining, Stiles Looks Young, Idiots Crushing On Each Other

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1541012

  This is Ridiculous

There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.

Words : 35818

Tags : What The Summary Said, Freaking Evil Unicorns, Crack Yet Not

https://archiveofourown.org/works/541020/chapters/961691

  The Scientific Method

Stiles’s life was so much easier before his BFF got super powers. “But, so, werewolves have super strength, right? And super speed. And better vision, and better muscle control, and healing powers, and stuff. And some of that’s probably, like, genetic, if you can be born a werewolf. Right?”

 “Yeah,” Scott says. From the perplexed look on his face, he doesn’t yet know where Stiles is going with this. “So?”

 “So what if you have condom-defeating supersperm?”

 Stiles has a lot of research to do. He decides Derek's kitchen is the place to do it. Derek probably regrets giving him a key.

Words : 5947

Tags : What The Summary Said, Crack Yet Not, Hilarious, Stiles Does Research

https://archiveofourown.org/works/762878

  Not Quite Lost (Not Quite Found)

A year after the nogitsune is defeated, Derek is living a quiet life in the mountains above a small town in Colorado.

Then Stiles shows up.

Words : 25025

Tags : Emotional Healing, Derek Leaves Beaacon Hill After Season 3, Stiles Leaves After High School, Sad Boys But The Are Going To Get Better, Melancholy In A Beautifull Setting

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880440

  Outrun Your Ghosts

When Derek Hale arrives at the Beacon Hills Young Adult Rehabilitation Center, he plans on keeping his head down and serving the rest of his time in minimum security peace. Stiles Stilinski changes all of that.

Words : 19148

Tags : Rehab, No Werewolves, Stiles Is Still Sort Of Magic But Everyone Think He’s Mental, Derek Is Accused Of Kate’s Crimes, Everyone In Rehab, Scott And Allison Met At Anger Management Issue Anonym, Jackson Is Here Because He’s A Douche, Patient Abuse, Harris Is The Worst Everywhere

https://archiveofourown.org/works/535679

  When You Stop Believing in Santa You Get Underwear

There are some salvageable things though. A virtually untouched heavy slate sign that says, engraved in an ornate script that confirms at least one person in the Hale family had a sense of humor (Stiles has a horrible suspicion it might have been Peter), When You Stop Believing in Santa You Get Underwear.

Words : 7817

Tags : Christmas Memories, Found Family, Pack Mom Stiles, The Boyd And Reyes Are Actually Include In Pack Big Gets Together, Seasonal Feels

https://archiveofourown.org/works/607336

  What Goes Around

“Well,” Stiles says, “if they’re going to hunt werewolves, I’m going to hunt them.”

It’s a ridiculous statement from a ten-year-old, but he’s obviously one hundred percent sincere. For the first time since the fire, Peter feels life stir inside him, feels purpose. It’s kismet, clearly. He’ll never meet the child he would have had with Olivia. Instead he’s met this boy, this brilliant, determined, cynical child with a world of potential.

Peter kneels down in front of him so they’re at eye level. “How do you feel about doing that together?”

Words : 71451

Tags : Dead Sheriff, Dead Hale, Dark Vengeancefull Kid Stiles, Dark Vengeancefull Peter, Murder Spree, Yet Found Family, Stiles Thinks He’s Robin To Peter’s Batman, More Or Less Good Peter, No Completly Moraly Bankrupt, Still Pretty Dark, We’re Talking About Acomplice Murder At Ten Years Old, Smart Stiles And Peter, Derek Hang On For The Ride

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13560651/chapters/31118688

  How far do I have to go to get to you

Stiles never knows if it's worse when Derek Hale steps out of the shadows or when he slinks back into them; either way, Stiles never expected to have this many feelings about his stupid old yellow owl shirt.

Words : 5189

Tags : Gaming, Teenagers, Derek Is Tragic But Catching Up On Late Teen Years

https://archiveofourown.org/works/509020

  Fire, Fury, and Flame

Stiles Stilinski was never going to be the omega who got knocked up right after high school, and then he's accidentally artificially inseminated with a stranger's sperm. Awesome. And the father of Stiles's baby just so happens to be Derek Hale. Half-feral, quite possibly a murderer, and pursued by a gleefully sadistic band of hunters who are only too eager to use Stiles and his baby to hit Derek right where it hurts. Joy.

Words : 124597

Tags : Accidental Virginal Pregnancy, Omega Stiles, Alpha Derek Making The Best Of It, Derek Is Running From His Past, Half Feral Derek, Action, Plot, Angst Love And Badassery, Stilinski Love Each Other, Sheriff Is An Awesome Dad, So Good, Making Family, Falling In Love, Secret Werewolf Compound

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949369?view_full_work=true

  Present

When Stiles's best friend Scott presented as a werewolf, it was just the worst. It was front-page news, there were reporters outside his house asking him questions, and people at school stared and kept their distance or interrogated him mercilessly. Worst by far was that it meant Scott had to leave immediately to live with the werewolf pack in the mountains -- which no one knew anything about. Stiles couldn't even visit, so he only got to see Scott once a month when he came back to visit his mom. It sucked.

A year later, he presents too.

Words : 112399

Tags : Not Always Omega Stiles, Alpha Derek, Turned Werewolves Scott And Stiles, Werewolves Are Known, Human/Sup Segregation, Stiles Hates Derek Guts At The Start, Like Hates Him, Then Resent Him, Then Become Okay, So Slow-Burn Feels

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946893/chapters/18168928

 Like the Sun Holds the Moon

Stiles is an omega, and he's supposed to be obedient. He's supposed to mate with the stranger chosen for him and quietly disappear. He's not supposed to talk to alphas, or have sex, or fall in love. Then he meets Derek Hale. Obedience was always overrated, anyway.

Words : 118155

Tags : A/B/O Dystopia, Racism, Sexism, Omega Stiles, Alpha Derek, Omeaga Are The Lowest Of The Low But Still Too Good For Werewolf, Forbidden Love, Running Away Together, Sheriff Is A Good Father, Mpreg, Childbirth, Parenthood, Omea Rehabilitation Center, Imprisonment, Minnor Character Suicide, Short Non-Con Elements, Forced Kate/Stiles In Chapter 14, Fighting Back, Smart Stiles, So Good Derek

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5442803/chapters/12578702

  Break the Lock If It Don't Fit

"Do you know what just happened?" Peter asked, frowning. "Do you know what Derek did?"

"He dislocated my shoulder," Stiles snapped, but Peter just arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by that answer.

Words :12738

Tags : Pack Dynamic, Domestic Violence, What Derek Did Was Not Romantic Sexy Or In Anyway Okay, He Apologised And Will Do Better

https://archiveofourown.org/works/504532

  Theory of Overprotective Canines

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Words : 11798

Tags : What The Summary Said, Idiots In Love, Mutual Pining, Actual Wolf Derek, Smart Derek, Possessive Derek, Obvious Stiles, Succesfull Cohabitation Come From Compromise

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4613304

  A Simple Life

Derek plans to spend the rest of his life holed up in the woods after Laura dies. Then he meets a stubborn young fox, and the stubborn young fox meets an urn of Deaton's magic powder, and his plans change.

Words :13763

Tags : Actual wolf Derek, Fox Stiles, Not A Werefox But A True Fox, Magical Powder Thanks To Deaton

https://archiveofourown.org/works/749767?view_full_work=true

     A Very Special Mention For A Technically Steter Fic But It’s WIP And SUPER Long So We’re Not There Yet

Consider it Gen !!!

It’s Awesome ! Check It Out !

Fanart !

We Don't Need Grace

The only reason Stiles and Finstock even met was because the Sheriff needed someone to wear his kid out. Countless clubs and sports turned Stiles away, and the alcoholic gym owner with a foul mouth and crazy hair was the Sheriff’s last hope. What started as an awkward arrangement would become an incredible journey full of gymnastics, blue ribbons, and gold medals.

Family isn’t always blood, sometimes it’s finding someone at the right time. Sometimes family is a hyperactive kid who hangs around the gym and his coach who takes his coffee with whiskey.

Otherwise known as The Olympics AU.

Words : 53905

Tags : Uncharacteristically Bad Father Seriff But Bob Finstock Make Up For It, Sheriff Is Too Preoccupied with His Wife And Don’t Understand His Son, Alive But Of Fragile Health Claudia, Bright Stiles, Stiles Keep On Being Happy, Stiles Wants To Be Spiderman But Will Make Do With Gymnast, Bob Finstock Is Made Of Awesome, Sport !!!, Olympics !!!, Found Family, Good Bobby, Allison And Kira Apparition

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19621804/chapters/46529518

How could I forget this one?!!?!

It’s a fancomic! It’s awesome! It’s long! It’s sweet!

You haven’t lived until you’ve read it!!!

Seed Wolf!

Stiles finds a mysterious packet of seeds one day called 'Seed Wolf'. He doesn't expect anything to grow from them, maybe a flower or something to replace his beloved (and deceased) cactus Bertrand.

What grows from the little seed is surprising.

Words: Zero, obviously. But it’s really long

Tags: Awesome cuteness, Dying of cute, Thumbellina trope, Anthropomorphic animoid plant people, manga style, so sweet, fluffy tails, soulmates

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788907

[haltandcatchfiretothemax]

Halt and Catch Fire S4 fantasy/wish list #5 of ???: an update on what Cameron’s tattoo has been up to

I didn’t get a chance to write about it but I have SO many questions, still, about that one not-even finished bar of the Black Flag logo (again, #foreverscreaming), I could talk about it for h o u r s probably

Cameron is canonically a fan of Hüsker Dü (which feels on point), who were on SST with Black Flag, so she would’ve known who they are and probably recognized their logo, but tbh Cameron is too good/too smart for them and I can’t imagine her really liking them (Donna probably would’ve appreciated them more, I maintain that she would’ve found their use of linear chromaticism interesting).

That’s not really the point though, because Black Flag logo tattoos aren’t necessarily about your deep connection to the bandmembers or their work, they’re like the Germs burn, they’re a mark some punks use to identify themselves and each other or...something. And if you watch the hotel punx scene, Cameron is kind of spaced out when Axel starts tattooing her. Like, she’s paying attention, but she’s watching as if it’s happening to someone else? And then she panics and stops him only after it’s gone far enough to be more or less irreversible. (Which is sort of also the story of her winding up at Cardiff Electric, YIKES!)

Anywhoodle, you see the tattoo a few times in s1, once or twice in s2, but I don’t think it makes an appearance in s3? (Please correct me if I’m wrong! And feel VERY free to send screencaps!) I’d like to either see it or hear a reference to its removal in s4, PLS AND THANK YOU

ps While we’re on the subject Cameron would’ve been too smart for Black Flag’s friends, Minor Threat, too. I hope/headcanon that she saw them play with Big Boys and that she rolled her eyes at everything Ian M*cKaye said during their set

[coyotesongwriting]

Home - Ch. 5

Chapter 5 - Ghosts

Chapter Summary: When a blast from the past walks in years later, what hapepns next?

Word Count: 3135

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy it. I’ve tried a new writing style for this fic and I can definitely say it’s not my cup of tea but I love the story anyways!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Previous Chapter              Series Masterlist

You drove North. When you were making the plans to leave, you knew there were only two places for you to go - the North, or down to the South. You’d always complained about the cold of winter, so the team would surely expect you to go to the southern states, somewhere winter wouldn’t bug you. When you reached Vegas, you sold your car and bought a new one at a different dealership under your new name to hide your tracks.

You spent all day in the car, stopping every time the twins cried and spending the night in roadside motels. With all of the stops, it took you four days of driving to reach Montana. Your plan was to go up to Eureka, Montana and make a life for you there. With just over 1000 occupants, the town was small enough that you could get to know everyone but large enough to hide you in events. 

You were almost there, 20 minutes outside of Eureka in a town called Trego when you passed a small run-down diner off the side of the road with a ‘For Sale’ sign out front. The old light blue paint was peeling, the signs outdated and the lights had long ago burned out. But something about it, some part of it called to you. You unloaded the babies, dropping the windows in the car and leaving Rex inside as you headed inside the diner. 

Inside the vinyl on the benches had become cracked, the linoleum chipped. But there was something about it. From the moment you walked inside, it felt comfortable. Walking through those front doors felt like home, and you knew you’d found where you were meant to be. 

Within a month, you’d bought the diner from the old owner, as well as a beautiful log cabin on the edge of Dickey Lake. The locals had been very displeased when you immediately shut the diner down, but when you’d hired some handymen to help renovate it, their attitude turned around.

With a new paint job and reupholstered booths, it wasn’t long before the diner was ready to re-open. You changed the name to Rebecca’s and a month after buying it, you re-opened. It quickly became a beloved spot in town. People passing through on Highway 93 began to pour in, and business was soon booming.

People questioned why you had named it Rebecca’s at first, while they liked the new name, there was something about losing a name they’d loved. You’d explained a few times that it was the name of your dead sister-in-law, and word seemed to spread quickly. The new name quickly caught on, and it wasn’t long before you’d hear people downtown talking about going to Becca’s for dinner.

Raising the twins was hard, as you’d known it would be. There were many sleepless nights, nights where they’d take turns crying and waking you up and you’d find yourself crying yourself to sleep, exhaustion breaking you down. You’d quickly made friends in town though, and on your worst days, one of the locals would stop by and stay for a few hours so you could take a nap.

When you’d first arrived, there had been some questions about the boy’s dad. You’d taken to wearing Bucky’s ring, trying not to wonder how he’d have reacted when he saw you wearing it. As far as the town was concerned, your husband James had passed away in a mining accident, and with no family, you’d decided to try your luck somewhere new. No one questioned it.

The first year was the hardest. You missed the Avengers. You missed getting to text them, getting to tell them the boy’s first words, getting to send them pictures, and share your life with them. Every day, you wondered if you’d gone too far if maybe you should reach out to them, let them know you were okay, you were safe. Until one day, when the news reports featured a war in Upstate New York, the complex took heavy damages. Luckily, there were no casualties but you couldn’t help but think how much easier it would be to hurt you and the boys alone in remote Montana. As time ticked by, you slowly thought about calling them less and less, every day adjusting to the new normal.

Rex was happy in his new life too. He loved exploring the woods at your home and watching as the boys learned to walk. Whenever you were outside with the boys, Rex never took his eyes off of them, always keeping a close eye for danger. On the days you went in to work at the diner, Rex would tag along with you. No one seemed to mind as he came and went, approaching people for a quick scratch before laying back down behind the counter. You’d even set up a small place under the counter for him to sleep but keep him out of the way. 

As the boys got older, you started bringing them with you to the diner to work instead of leaving them with a babysitter. You set up a playpen in a back corner near the counter and you’d keep an eye on them while you worked. The boys learned to walk in the diner, toddling along the linoleum floor in between customers. 

You slowly became a beloved family member of the town. You were invited to birthday parties, holidays, everything. The guys looked after you like their own baby sister, and the girls made sure you never felt alone. Of course, there were some old busybodies always starting trouble, spreading rumors about the new girl from out of town but no one paid them any mind. 

Over the years, life moved on and you did too. You missed Bucky, of course, you did, but in the end, you were happy there in your new home. When you’d see the Avengers come on tv, it felt like that life belonged to a different person, and in a way it did. You were no longer that person you’d been. You no longer killed, no longer woke up each day not sure if it would be your last, and that feeling… was intoxicating. You still trained daily, in the early morning hours before the boys were awake, just in case anything ever happened, but it was different now. It was more of an exercise, as opposed to being prepared for the almost daily life or death battle. 

The boys may have been identical physically, but personality-wise they couldn’t have been more different. James was a shy child, always hanging on to you as you worked, hiding his face behind your leg when someone tried to talk to him. George on the other hand? He was so outgoing it scared you, he’d run up to anyone and start babbling away, he had no fear of new people. 

What threw most people though, was the fact that James may have been the quiet one, but he was the trouble maker. Your favorite story to tell people about him was the time he decided he wanted a cookie after you’d told him no, so he’d dragged a chair over to the counter, climbed up, then onto the counter and was halfway onto the fridge before you realized what he was doing. George was just sitting at the bottom, watching cautiously. 

Your favorite story to tell about George was the time he managed to get into the giant tub of coconut oil. You’d bought a 5-gallon bucket on Amazon once, instead of the small tub you’d intended to, and it had been sitting in your pantry ever since. You’d been on the phone with the neighbor while you cooked dinner, and when you turned around there he was, covered head to toe in coconut oil and you couldn’t help but laugh. He’d pouted at you for laughing at him, and you’d scooped up your oily little boy, kissed him on the forehead, and immediately went off for a bath. He smelled like coconut oil for a week after that. 

When the boys turned four, you signed them up for swimming lessons. James took to it like a duck to water, and you had a hard time keeping him out of the water the following summer. George wasn’t a big fan of all the rules, but what he did enjoy was splashing everyone - particularly James. 

You cried the day the boys went to kindergarten for the first time. Their teacher, Miss Jay, was a frequent customer at the diner and the boys couldn’t wait to spend the day with her so when you dropped them off, they ran into her room with just a wave goodbye. You’d gone back to your car and sobbed for thirty minutes. On days like that, the ghost of Bucky sat heavy, and the guilt you’d long ago accepted came flooding back. It was hard, but you made it through. And when the boys came home that day telling you so excitedly about their amazing day, you smiled and laughed along with them. 

Teaching them to ride a bike had been a disaster. You’d brought the bikes home and spent all morning putting them together. The only problem was, James’ bike was missing a piece. And it wouldn’t be in for two weeks. The boys hadn’t wanted to wait any longer and had convinced you they could just share until then. Which seemed like a great plan until James was ready to ride without the training wheels and George was not. For the next two weeks, it felt like you were constantly putting on and taking off the training wheels. 

For their sixth birthday, you took them on a trip to California. Rex wasn’t happy to be left behind in Montana, but you guys were flying and you didn’t feel right putting him on a plane. The first thing you did when you got there was take the boys to Disneyland. George fell in love with Cinderella from the get-go and had stood back watching her for the longest time before she saw him and posed with him for a picture. James was infatuated with Peter Pan, and you’d spent all day trying to figure out where he would be. You’d almost given up hope when a cast member saw how upset he was and managed to arrange a special meeting. For the rest of the trip, the boys just kept talking about how amazing it was.

You’d taken them to the beach for the first time too. You’d spent weeks before the trip teaching them all about the dangers of the ocean waves and currents, and so when you told them they could only go in the water when holding your hand they didn’t fight you. After that, you took them to the Aquarium of the Pacific, where they got to pet the stingrays and jellyfish and got to feed the colorful birds. 

After you got home from the trip with the boys, you soon learned that the Avengers had been in that same part of California as you had. The fear rose in your chest, and for weeks you worried they’d found you, that they’d show up and you’d have to leave again. How could you raise the boys on the run? Forcing them to leave behind the only home they’d ever known because you worried someone bad would find you. As weeks passed with no unexpected visitors, you merely chalked it up to an unlucky moment and decided to be more careful on vacations in the future. 

Through the years you’d become close to your neighbor down the road. Ty owned the mechanic shop right next door to the diner, and whenever something broke that you couldn’t fix he was your first call. He’d lost his wife to cancer two years after you moved in, and the two of you had bonded over the loss of your loved ones. It seemed like everyone in town had a bet on when the two of you would start dating, but you both knew that would never happen. It probably didn’t help that you both loved Criminal Minds so he’d taken to calling you a variety of fun pet names every time. You loved each other like siblings, and he was more than happy to step in and fill the role of father figure for the boys. Of course, they knew he wasn’t their dad but it was nice to have a positive male role model for them. Part of you wondered what things would have been like if you’d let Steve, Sam and Tony be in their lives, but that only lasted until news of another Avengers related disaster hit the news. 

Ty’s mother, Kay, soon became Grandma Kay to you and the boys. Since Ty and his wife never had children of their own, she was more than happy to welcome your family in as her grandchildren. You never felt unwelcome or out of place in her house, and growing up the boys loved getting to go spend the night at Grandma Kay’s, or “Gamma Kay’s” house as they’d say when they were younger. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you had a real family and you couldn’t have been more grateful to them for welcoming you in without a second thought. 

On April 28th every year, Ty would take the boys for the day. He’d take them to the movies and ice cream, and out on adventures so you could have the day to yourself. That evening, they’d always spend the night at Grandma Kay’s. And every year, you’d spend the day crying in bed. While the rest of the year you managed to get by with just a few shed tears here and there, the anniversary of Bucky’s death hit you just as hard every year. Long ago you’d learned to accept that the past couldn’t be changed. You couldn’t go back and save him, the only thing you could do was let go of the guilt and the blame.

When the boys were old enough, they joined the local cub scouts group. The night of their first-ever camping trip you stayed up all night and didn’t sleep a wink. You’d never spent a night away from them before, and you kept waiting for a phone call. It wasn’t until dawn that you nodded off on the couch, phone clutched in your hand, and Rex curled up at your feet. The boys were so excited when they got home they wouldn’t stop talking about how much fun it had been for almost a week, and you had to promise to go camping with them as soon as you could. 

It was a slow Wednesday afternoon in the diner, the lunch rush had already passed but the dinner crowd hadn’t come yet. You were just hanging out with the server and chef on duty, talking about your plans for the upcoming weekend when a news bulletin caught your attention. There’d been another attack on the Avengers complex in upstate New York, and this time it was a bad one. Most of the buildings had been completely destroyed, and no one knew if there had been any casualties. 

Your employees couldn’t figure out why you looked at the tv like your world had just come crashing down around you as you waited for any news. Eventually, they’d called Ty and he’d taken you back to your home. You didn’t explain, and he didn’t ask questions. Your eyes were glued to the television for the rest of the day. Ty took the kids for the day, and you could never thank him quite enough for that. Rex and you watched the reports, hands shaking until you saw your team give a press conference reassuring everyone they were okay. 

For their seventh birthday, James asked for a skateboard and George asked for a pony. You couldn’t say no to them, not on something like this, but you weren’t quite sure you guys were prepared for the life of pony ownership, so instead you signed George up for lessons at the local stable. 

George took to riding like a natural, and the smile that lit up his face the first time he mounted up brought a tear to your eye. Within six months you’d bought him a sweet old school horse, a horse who had seen and done it all and was perfect for him to learn on. George named him after his favorite Avenger - Falcon. You cried that night, wanting nothing more than to just call and catch up with Sam and Nat, but you didn’t.

James was a nightmare with the skateboard and within a week he’d started building ramps out of spare wood he earned helping out at the hardware store in town. Ty helped him build the ramps, and you watched nervously as he became more and more of a daredevil. When he fell and broke his arm, Ty cried and blamed himself. You’d merely sighed and told him James would have found a way to do it anyways, if anything Ty had made sure it was only a broken arm. 

The years slowly ticked by and before you knew it, it had been eight years since you’d last spoken to any of the Avengers, almost nine years since you lost Bucky. Life was good, and your biggest worry was Rex getting up there in years. The vet said he was almost 10 now, and you could see it in the graying of his muzzle. He wasn’t quick to greet every visitor to the diner anymore, happy to just sit and watch the people as they went about their lives. 

You didn’t hear the chime of the diner door opening, too busy chatting with Ty at the far end of the counter as you poured him a cup of coffee. It wasn’t until Rex let out one loud bark that you turned around to see what was up. In all the years you’d been running the diner, he’d never once done that so when you noticed the stranger standing at the diner entrance you watched cautiously as they removed their baseball cap and looked up at you.

The carafe slid from your grasp, shattering on the linoleum at your feet. Your hands flew up to cover your mouth and you froze, your eyes locked on the familiar figure in front of you. Your eyes knew what they were seeing, but your brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t believe what it was seeing.

You felt a warm hand settle on your shoulder and Ty’s voice seemed to echo through the now silent diner, “You okay, baby girl?”

The familiar man in front of you glanced at the ring on your finger, then Ty’s hand on your shoulder, and shoved his baseball cap back on his head, leaving just as quickly as he had arrived. 

You stood there frozen for a long time, before breaking out of the trance and racing out the door after him. He was long gone, no trace he was ever there and if it wasn’t for Ty and Rex’s reactions, you’d have thought he was a hallucination. Ty followed you outside, but you weren’t listening to anything he said, could barely hear the questions that poured from him. 

You bit back a sob, one name slipping through your lips as tears began to track down your cheeks, “Bucky….”

~~~~~

Next Chapter ->

Taglist OPEN:  @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark @redfoxwritesstuff​ @brokenthelovely  @collinsstanharbour​  @samsgoddess​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @winterisakiller​

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

The Hunter Who Loved Me (Part 2)

Series Page

Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline, Dean x OFC

Series Summary: Part Three of Some Sunny Day. Dean’s trying to balance his new relationship with Julie and his need to hunt. How long can he keep it from her? And can Julie keep her curiosity at bay?

Section Word Count: 8100

Section Content: language, fluff, angst, lots of dirty talk, role playing (a little of Dean taking orders and giving them), lots of smut, face riding

“So. Dean. This list. Enjoyment versus Duty.” Tricia lifted up a piece of paper. Dean squinted at his therapist on the screen. She’d printed out his hurried picture snap of the scribblings he’d texted over the other day. “First, I appreciate some of the venn diagramming going on here.”

Dean smiled, as proud as a little kid about to get their artwork slapped to the fridge. “Is there a ‘but’ coming?”

Tricia’s pixie cut spiked up her greys in the haphazard “I don’t give a fuck” style. It was 8am Tricia time, on a Wednesday morning. She sipped from a beer bottle. Salivating like Pavlov’s dog, Dean slid his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It seemed almost sacrilegious to watch her drink alone. But he’d been trying to wait until at least mid-afternoon before any alcohol passed his lips. “Second,” her small, bright blue eyes blinked away the question behind her glasses, “I was expecting you’d ask for more explanation or guidance on the task.” She placed the paper out of view on her desk and studied it for further inspection.

“You clearly don’t know me well enough, Doc.”

“Well, the arrogant part of me thinks I do. You take orders and fulfill them without question, when you agree with their importance and merit.” Her almost unnoticeable, grey eyebrows lifted over the top rim of her glasses. “I thought you’d think this was bullshit.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe all this psychobabble crap is rubbing off on me.”

“You have your original masterpiece with you so we can reference it together?”

Dean tapped the paper on the coffee table. “Right here.”

“So. It looks like you’ve got the sheet broken down with enjoyment on the left and duty on the right. This first drawing. You have a ‘hunting life’ circle really big on the duty side, and a smaller one, labeled ‘being with family’, right inside it.”

“The whole enjoyment and duty thing going together that we talked about. Is that not right?”

“No right or wrong in this assignment, Dean. Just gives us things to discuss.” She leaned back in her chair a bit. “Hunting became everything for your family?”

“Hunting was my family. I know you know the stories, Doc. Hunter’s have the loosest lips on the planet, amongst themselves.”

“Humor me and pretend I didn’t hunt for decades and don’t know a damn thing.”

He sighed. “Before I was even born. Both parents. Both families. The Winchesters. The Campbells. I didn’t learn about the lineage, the legacy, the responsibility we all had in God’s master plan until much later.” Tricia took a swig from the bottle as she listened. His lips smacked together. Fuck it. It’s five o’clock somewhere. “I need a drink. Keep going. I’ll be right back.” He darted to the fridge.

“So.” Tricia’s voice rose. “Is it safe to say that the duty to your family, all that went along with that, ate away at the enjoyment of them?”

The fridge door swung shut and Dean popped the top off a cold one. He tipped his head back. The much needed liquid flowed down his throat. A large gulp filled his inner ear. “Ah.” There it was. The sweet, temporary relief. “Yeah! I’d say duty sat down at an all you can eat buffet, wearing a large ass fuckin’ bib, and went to town on enjoyment.” He yelled back at the laptop and placed the bottle on his breakfast bar. Flat palms leaned into the counter. He bent back, arms locked and stared at the vinyl kitchen flooring he kept meaning to replace.

“Any enjoyment at all, being with family?”

He sighed, rose up, swiped at the bottle and brought it back with him to the couch. “Yeah, of course.” My head hurts. Fucking finding feelings crap. “Taking care of Sammy’s that one circle in the middle of both columns with a line down the middle.”

“Taking care of him brought you enjoyment along with duty?”

He nodded at the screen with a ‘yeah, obviously, or I wouldn’t have written it down’ expression.

“I find it interesting that you had to title it ‘taking care of Sammy’ instead of say, being a big brother.” Dean leaned back, not knowing what to add to that little bit of insight from Tricia. “So. What filled both of those, enjoyment and duty, when you didn’t have to take care of him anymore? You said it’s been over two years since you and Sam have hunted together.”

“I don’t know. Bounty huntin’, this house, Cas and Jack, the occasional job.”

“But not really anything outside of that? No new territory explored or relationships that didn’t relate to those things? At least, prior to Julie?”

“No. Hung up my adventurous hat.”

“Scales tipped more on the enjoyment or duty end?”

“Before Julie? Duty filled up the days.”

“Explain the last drawing to me.”

Fuck. “Those diagrams. I don’t always see them as connecting, so much as pulling apart.”

“Explain.”

Dean sighed. “You know those magnified videos of cells dividing? Ones we’d have to watch in Sex Ed?”

Tricia nodded. “Cell division after fertilization.”

He focused on the drawing to which Tricia referred. “I’m enjoying her right now.” He looked down at the circle on the left. “But, it’s only a matter of time before hunting, that duty, pulls me away. Or she pulls away because of the hunting. Away from me.” The edges of the equally proportioned Julie and Dean circles barely touched each other between the dividing line.

“So. Can you put Julie in the duty column with you?”

Dean shook his head. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

“But, you do?”

“It’s all I know, Doc.” Dean mumbled.

“Back to Julie and sharing the duty. She might want that. Has nothing to do with deserving.” Tricia spoke, a little softer. The tone reminded him of Mary, when she had to reel in her impatience with her grown-ass sons acting like kids. “We all have duty in life, Dean. Those duties change, shift, evolve. And they can co-exist with enjoyment. You are a hunter. But, you aren’t just a hunter. Just like Julie isn’t just an accounting manager.”

“She goes all in with the duty and she’s in danger. All the time. Even now, being on the edge of it...” He sat up and chugged the beer. “There’s no way this is going to work, me riding this line between in and out. It’s me being selfish. Me wanting something with her is…”

“Human.” Tricia ended. “You won’t know what she can or can’t handle unless you're honest with her.”

“I tell her and it’s over.” He thumbed the opening of the bottle.

“Is that the worst thing that could happen?”

“No. The worst thing would be that she dies.” He nodded, resolute. “Because of me.”

Tricia’s thin lips pursed. The lids shut slowly over her blue eyes, then opened to stare at him. “Dean. I understand that over the past forty years you’ve been given a burden of unimaginable responsibility. Unfair, unwanted, unbelievable responsibility. Understand that simply your existence or being in close proximity to Julie does not make you responsible for every bad thing that could possibly happen to her.”

“I don’t buy that, Doc. That’s a fuckin’ cop out. My decisions make a difference. Actions have consequences.” He heard the resistance in his own voice.

Dean watched her hold in a sigh. “Of course they do. But, it’s the motive behind those actions that define your responsibility for the outcome.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I made a mistake, you know? Getting involved with a… civilian, for lack of a better word. It’s a lot to ask of someone. This life.”

“It is. But, there are lots of couples who are in similar situations. Military spouses, for example. Someone goes off to war, there’s no guarantee they come back. There’s a certain amount of independence and resilience necessary in both partners for those relationships to have any chance of success. Does Julie possess those qualities?”

Dean smiled. “Yeah, I think so.”

“What attracted you to her?”

“Besides her hot little nosey ass?”

Tricia shook her head and smirked. “I’ve got the initial attraction part down. I mean when you interacted. Her personality? Manner?”

Dean reminisced about the first day they met. When he mowed her lawn. When they shared dinner in the backyard. “She was real. Wasn’t putting on an act.”

“You’ve got radar for that stuff?”

“My bullshit meter is very sensitive and highly accurate.” Dean confirmed with an assured nod, then explained further. “She was careful, too. And, considerate.” He chuckled to himself. “She sent me home with some cobbler.”

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“Would you like to be able to be real with Julie? And, not have to bullshit?”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not…”

Tricia tilted her head. “This dancing around the truth is only going to work for so long. It will exhaust you. Get you more on edge. Understand, I have no doubt you care for her and don’t want to hurt her. But, you can’t expect a strong relationship to be built on a foundation of half-truths. This will damage any chance of being with her long term if you aren’t honest about everything. Soon. So. Do you want to be real with her? Let her really see you? Hear your story? See if she wants you for who you are and can handle the job? Share the responsibility with you?”

The moments ticked by. “Let’s just say, hypothetically, I wanted all those things…” Dean’s gaze flitted over the keyboard. “How do I break it to her?”

The silence was deafening in Dean’s ears as he waited for an answer. “Well, if you want, during our next session, we can brainstorm, act out some scenarios.”

He nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. So. Will we be good for the same time next week?”

“Unless a job comes up.”

“Uh-huh. Well, if that does happen, I’m happy to reschedule and work around a job. Alright?”

She ain’t letting me out that easy. “Yeah, Tricia.”

*

Hot little librarian is home. Julie shut the driver’s side door of her compact and strolled out from the carport. Her fingers fiddled with her messenger bag strap. A serious look - what she would call her “resting bitch face” - appeared to inspect something on the path. The car beeped like a preschool toy.

Dean caught the moment Julie realized he sat under the enclosed patio in her backyard. A glance in his direction halted her, then produced a wide smile that he couldn’t help but match. She began the walk toward him. He licked his lips in appreciation at the tight pencil skirt and form fitting blazer in a matching purple. She even had a crisp white button up underneath. Damn. Heels replaced her usual flats. Hips swayed. Hair, twisted up in a tight bun, showed off the slope of her neck. When she got within ear shot, he rumbled, “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house if I’d seen that outfit this morning, sweetheart.”

Eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “Do I need your approval for what I wear?”

“Nope. I just wouldn’t have let you leave the house.” He wanted to say more but Wes and Samuel were in their backyard.

Julie got the hint and smiled over to the neighbors, offering a wave, before staring back at Dean. “Had that big presentation today.” She reminded him.

“Ah.” Something about projections and investments. Dean nodded. “How’d it go?”

“Eh.” She scratched the side of her neck. “It’s done. I’m home. And, you’re here.” She noticed the pizza box on the patio table. “A Margherita from Cosimo’s?”

He grinned at how her eyes lit up.

She pointed to her back door. “Why aren’t you inside?”

He shrugged. “Wanted to wait for you out here.” He inventoried her again. “Making me regret that decision. Inside would be much better for what I want to do right now.”

Julie dropped her messenger bag on the concrete and bent down to give him a kiss. There was firm intent behind the pressure of her lips on his. “Give me a slice of that first.” She smiled and slid into the chair beside him, snatching the bottle of iced tea he’d placed nearby.

Dean flipped the box lid open and presented the pie with a flourish.

“Hm.” Julie took in a whiff of the mozzarella, tomato sauce, and basil symphony. Her fingers danced above and over the selection like a conductor, eventually pulling out the slice Dean had eyed for himself. It had a singed bubble of dough and leaned a tad on the wrong side of crispy.  She folded it in half and dangled the tip near his mouth. “Share?”

She read his mind in that way she always did when it came to food, satisfying his tummy and his heart. Damnit, Jules. He snatched at the offering with his teeth. Mozzarella threatened to fall off the dough. But he gobbled about a third of it up to prevent any spillage.

She giggled and took her own enjoyment with the half eaten piece, pushing a napkin out from under the box toward him. “Thank you for getting dinner.”

He finished munching before answering. “I had time. Work’s been slow and I was home.”

“I’ve noticed not much on the hunting end.” She smiled. “Wouldn’t be because I’ve been tiring you out this past week?” She licked the sauce off her lips.

He gnawed at his bottom lip, then grabbed another piece for himself. “Might be.” He tore into the slice with abandon. “I may be turning down jobs so I can be home every night.” A wiggle of his eyebrows accompanied his stare that stretched down to her crossed legs. “And, I’m so glad I stayed home tonight.”

Julie shook her head and sipped at her drink.

He cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” He knew the tone in his voice would shift her posture into cautious mode. She sat up straight in her seat. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Thinking’s good.” She took another bite.

He pursed his lips for emphasis before continuing. “Sam. Eileen. They’ve got about a month or so before she pops.”

“Yeah. I’m sure they’re super excited and nervous.” Julie nodded.

“Was thinking, maybe I should go to California and visit for a while.”

He thought he spotted a tinge of sadness as she processed the assumed details. She slumped a fraction. “I think that’s a great idea.” She picked at some cheese. “How long do you think you’ll be gone? With the drive back and forth, and all?”

He spoke, still chewing. “Might buy a plane ticket. You know, cut down on the time away.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you contemplating a cross country flight?”

He grinned and shrugged. “Got a reason or two to wanna come back to Delaware sooner rather than later.”

Julie smiled more to herself, a little pink painting her cheeks.

“Unless…” He inhaled sharp, then exhaled. Do you want to be real with her? “Would you…” He sighed under her stare. “Would you be able to take some time off from work? Go with me? In a couple weeks, maybe?”

Surprise washed over her face. “I’d have to check, submit a leave request right away.” She paused. “Where would we stay?”

“Sam’s always telling me they have a ton of space at their house.”

“Are you sure, Dean?”

He smiled. “Yes, sweetheart. If you want to, I want you along for the ride.” That made her beam back at him. He shook his head. “But, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

Her mouth tilted, waiting for explanation.

“Me, on a plane.”

She laughed and reached for his hand. “But, it will be entertaining.”

He huffed. “Thanks.”

Her fingers threaded around his. There was a slight change in her expression. “So?”

It was his turn to wait, but he continued to eat. Grabbing another slice with his free hand.

“You like this outfit?” Her voice had lowered, mindful of the outdoor company, but obvious in an attempt to get a literal rise out of him.

He stopped in mid-chew. Swallowed. Almost choked at the laser focus Julie donned behind the lenses. She leaned forward. He wished she had a few more shirt buttons undone. “Yeah.” He squeaked out, not recognizing the voice that emerged from his throat. He tried again, lower. “Yeah.”

“Does it remind you of something in particular?” She smiled, watching him. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you blushing?” She whispered.

He straightened up, shaking his head. Another scoff. “No.” His cheeks were most definitely warming up.

She squeezed his hand. “Come on. Tell. What installment of the Casa Erotica series is playing in that head of yours?”

He thought back to a night, maybe a month back. It was Dean’s turn to pick a movie and he thought he’d be a smartass and pop in a porn flick. Julie had been up to the challenge. So much so that after about ten minutes in, they were having sex on the couch. The background soundtrack and noises from the television had turned it into an exceptionally fun experience. Julie did her damndest to outdo the moans; Dean, the cheesy dialogue. The memory made his lips pop out in a corkscrew grin. Aw, Jules. Would you be jealous of the fact that I’ve slept with Carmelita from Cabana Nights or jealous that you didn’t get the chance to yourself?

“Is it the one that had the CEO Boss Lady of DRILLER?” She leaned back in her seat and broke the grip, thinking hard. “Or the Professor at CUN Tech?”

“Those were all awesome. Certainly could apply.” He licked his lips. “But, no.”

“Not what immediately came to mind. Huh.” She tapped a finger to her cheek. Then, she snapped her fingers. “Librarian?”

Dean felt his eyes go wide.

“Dean.” She whispered. “I haven’t seen you read a book. When’s the last time you were in a library?”

He shrugged, then chuckled. “Couple years back. I’ve been in lots of libraries.”

“Really?” Her mind was working. It was sexy as hell. Dean’s arousal pressed against the now tight denim. A quick gaze to his lap had her eyes pop open. She cleared her throat, then snapped her eyes up to his. “Got any overdue books you need to return?”

Oh, it’s on. “A couple.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re aware, Mr. Winchester...” She adjusted her glasses and held his stare. “There’s a penalty when they’re brought back late.”

His eyebrows rose. “How big of a penalty are we talkin’?”

“Depends on the length.” She smirked. “Of time the books have been checked out.”

“Oh, wow.” He scratched the back of his neck and did his best ‘Aw Shucks’ expression. “I think I’ve had one for two years. It’s, ah, hard… cover.” He shrugged.

Julie stifled a giggle. “Two years? I don’t have any experience with a delinquency THAT LONG overdue.” She shook her head. “Really, Mr. Winchester.” She stood up and grabbed her messenger bag. “I’ll have to go check our files in the back and look up the fine for that.” Acting disappointed, she sighed. “You can meet me in the periodicals section on the second floor in about five minutes. Then we’ll get things squared away.”

He gazed up at her. “I guess I’ll get what’s coming to me.”

She nodded. “Actions have consequences.” The phrase he’d uttered to his therapist earlier that day slapped him in the face. It knocked him out of the daze of the sultry game for some seconds. “Don’t be late this time.” A curt nod punctuated her flirty command.

He watched her ass sway away, even more sass and bounce in those hips than usual. The view centered his focus on the task at hand. Hot damn. I guess we’re really doing this role playing thing. The sliding door closed. He contemplated waiting a minute before going inside. It made sense to stay on her good side, give her time for whatever her dirty little mind was thinking up. In case we can do this again. He closed the pizza box and packed up the other takeout items, cleaned up the space, and headed in to find his sexy librarian.

Dean dropped the food off in the kitchen and put everything where he knew Julie liked things. He checked his watch every ten seconds to give her the five minutes she had requested. Then, he took the stairs up two at a time. His heart sped up and his cock hardened with each step. He gripped the railing and stopped at the top, glancing around the landing. His chest heaved. The office door was closed. Never closed. The quick click to snap his jaw shut held back a moan of gratitude.

A shuffle over to the door, then his knuckles hovered as he contemplated the best knock. Tap, tap. Pause. Tap.

“Come in.”

Dean grinned. He was curious how long she’d be able to play along without cracking. A deep throat clearing on his part was mostly for her enjoyment. He pushed the latch and entered. She waited for him seated at her desk. A swivel of the office chair in his direction gave Dean a good look at her attire. He couldn’t suppress the groan at the slight alterations she’d made to her work outfit.

Julie had switched out her glasses. To the thick black rim glasses she wears at home. Legs crossed. The professional work heels from earlier were replaced with shiny black stilettos. The white shirt under the blazer had been unbuttoned so low that Dean got more than a peek at the white lace bra underneath. His mouth watered. A hunger filled up his belly having little to do with food. “Mr. Winchester. Have a seat, please.” She motioned to the sofa. Both her hands wrapped over one knee cap.

Dean played up the nerves with a hand to his neck. The room was bright from the ceiling fan light. He inhaled. She put on my favorite perfume. She’d pulled the roman shades all the way down. Whatever we’re about to get up to isn’t for the neighbors to see. He walked over and sat as instructed. Elbows rested on his knees. Legs splayed wide apart. He leaned forward. The springs in the sofa bed cushion creaked. “How much trouble am I in, Ma’am?” It took every ounce of his control to not return her slight smirk with a grin.

“Not good news, I’m afraid.” She shook her head. “Turns out that book was extremely valuable. I found a note from the head curator in the catalogue database with strict orders. We’ve been asked to release information to the police about the person that returns it.”

Shit. She’s doing a whole backstory and everything. My busty little bookworm. Dean raised his hands in slight defense. “Oh, woah, wait a minute. That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

A shoulder raised. She uncrossed her legs and swiped at the fabric over her thighs. “I’m afraid my hands are tied, Mr. Winchester.” She had to throw that out there. Hands tied. He didn’t know how much more his cock could take.

He did his best Sam impression. Wide, puppy dog eyes begged. “There has to be another way. Some other penalty or… punishment.” Her eyes lit up at that word. Dean swallowed. “Please, Ma’am. I’ll do anything.”

One of Julie’s eyebrows quirked up. “Excuse me for being so forward, Mr. Winchester. But, you don’t appear to adhere to the simplest of rules. It’s almost as if you like misbehaving.” She straightened in the seat and popped the two buttons of her blazer free. A slow strip peeled the jacket from her shoulders and arms. There was precision and care taken to rest it on the chair back. She turned back, focused on his reaction, her knees locked together. “Do you like being punished?”

Woah. This is definitely new. Dean licked his lips. “I-I guess.”  

“Well, then… maybe we can find some way for you to atone for this egregious error.” Mischief lined her lips before she bit the bottom one. Her fingers went to work on the buttons of her blouse next.

His nostrils flared at the sight of her bare skin when she turned to place the shirt with the same care on the chair back. He wanted to run his fingers up the dip of her spine. The creamy lace caged those breasts he wanted to squeeze and lick. “I’ll do anything.” He repeated, groaning. The act was long gone.

“Will you?” He could see the sweet struggle on her face to stay in character. In control. Her hands fanned across the frilly fabric of the bra cups. Nails, coated in wine colored polish, scratched at the lace. The nipples, already pebbling and popping through the flimsy material, hardened further at her touch. Those big brown eyes closed and her chest arched forward.

“Damn, Jules.” He swallowed.

“Want to touch me?” Her eyes opened and returned to his gaze.

“You fucking have to ask?” He grumbled, burning with want.

“Hands and knees.” She smiled, sure and in charge now. She’d won the battle. Her eyes did not break from his. “Crawl for it.”

He smirked. “Want me begging for it, huh?”

The speed of her breath quickened and she gasped, continuing to play with her nipples. “Yes, Mr. Winchester.”

“Alright, Ma’am.” He slinked onto the area rug with a soft pounce, bent arms settling onto his palms. He contracted his fingers, getting a grip of the material, before his knees followed. The surprise and excitement on her face at his action was worth the theatrics. He surveyed and stalked her like a lion. The pace towards her was slow and steady. His gaze never left hers.

Dean angled his head to watch her reaction as he approached. Her hands were squeezing the bra cups now. She bit her bottom lip. Dean halted as her legs parted. The skirt rode up her creamy thighs. Her ass scooted towards the edge of the chair. He got an amazing view of what awaited him.

“No panties, sweetheart.” A low growl left his throat. He rocked back and rose up, sitting on the heels of his sneakers. His hand reached out to touch her thigh.

“No hands.” She whimpered. “Nothing but that mouth and tongue on me.”

He grinned. “That’s my punishment?”

She stilled. “You’re right. That would be too good for you.”

Dean wanted to slap himself. Should have kept my goddamn mouth shut.

Julie’s nails clawed at her thighs, slow and purposeful. Light pink trails skirted over the flesh. She shifted on the seat, pulled the skirt up past those hips to bunch at her waist. She straddled the edge of the seat with a wide stance, her legs bent at perfect ninety degrees.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that right?” Dean shook his head.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” She shot back. “But, thank you.” The palm of her right hand cupped her pussy. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes.” Dean nodded. She pulled her hand back, let him watch while one finger tested the waters between her folds. “Oh, I so want that.” He added.

“How do you want it?” Her middle finger dipped inside. “Nice and slow?” She slipped a second digit into the mix. “Fast and loose?”

“What do you want right now, Jules?” He shook his head, licked his lips, and clenched the denim covering his thighs. “Whatever you want, baby.”

The blush broke the act. There she is. A gasp left her mouth. “Really?”

Dean arched his brows. “Of course.”

Her lips rubbed together. “Lie on your back?” She stared at him, hard, then let the request escape her mouth. “I want to ride your face.”

Shit. How long has she been keeping that on reserve? He flopped onto his back, and onto the rug, like a dog playing dead. He tapped his chest. “I’ve died and gone to heaven. Get up here, sweetheart.”

His focus was on the ceiling fan above him, whirring as fast as his X-rated thoughts. Her giggle filled his ears. “Why do you have to be so addictive?”

He shrugged. “Could ask the same thing about you? But, I’m all about this mid-life sexcapade. I mean, any moment, you could go running for the hills.” Her frame was above him in a second, by his side. She was a disheveled, sexy, hot fucking mess. His tongue clicked. “May I suggest you take off the skirt?” His hand drifted up the back of her bare leg, from ankle to calf, resting on the back of a knee. “But keep the heels and bra on. Please.” Rug fibers rubbed into the back of his head as he tilted. “For now, at least.”

She nodded. The side zipper released. Fabric puddled and bunched atop his forearm, trapping her movement. He stared at all of her from his vantage. A deep breath steadied him. He slid his hand out from under the skirt. Both hands locked behind his head, cradling it.

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.” He smiled.

She stepped out of the skirt and swished it away. Her soft tummy and hips jiggled. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I guaran-fucking-tee there’s no way you can disappoint me.” Dean chuckled. He sighed when she stepped over him, heels twisting into the rug. “Such a pretty view.”

*

The rush and embarrassment of being pantiless for Dean’s inspection from a very new angle flooded through Julie’s veins. Her whole body was on fire. He was relaxed now, leaning back onto the rug like it was a towel on a sandy beach. He was content now, staring up at her with brilliant bright green eyes. “Such a pretty view.”

“Pointers?” She shrugged.

“Well,” his palms unclasped from behind his head and latched onto the ankles caging him on either side. “You aren’t going to sit as much as hover. A throw pillow from the sofa will help get me into a better position.” He smirked. “And those pretty thighs need to get up by my head. Pronto.” A throat clearing followed. “You can face forward or do a reverse cowgirl up here.” His eyebrows wiggled.

Julie bit her lip.

“What are you thinking about it?” Dean asked. “Now’s not the time to be thinking.”

“It’s just… I want to, but…”

His bottom lip sucked back into his mouth. The tip of his tongue peeked out for an agonizing, tantalizing second. He was grazing over her figure from down below. “You know, I’m really enjoying this, Jules. How could I not? If that’s what you’re worried about. Don’t. And, you get to continue this little dominant dance you started. Fucking hot as hell. You’re in charge.”

She sighed.

“You’re good at it. Giving orders. It’s fun to switch roles every now and then. Come on.” His ass squirmed into the rug now and he smiled. “Break in this bronco.”

“I give orders everywhere else, Dean.” She pulled out of his cuffed palms and took a couple steps to grab a tiny pillow for his head. He ‘oofed’ and chuckled when she tossed it onto his face. “I know I’m good at it. But, I like it when you take the lead.” She melted onto the floor and sat by his head, leaning into the front of the sofa. The back of her high heels curled against bare ass cheeks.

He cocked his head around to stare up at her once he got comfy on the pillow. She teased at the strands of his hair. “I know you do, sweetheart.” His voice lowered further. “Honest? In this moment?”

Oh. He’s using it against me now.

“The thought of your business being all up in my face, with you on top… kind of makes you feel totally exposed, right?” He asked, reaching for her. The warmth of his hand caressed a thigh.

“Yeah.”

“You got to switch that thought process. It’s all up to you. I’m just a means to get you to an end.” A throaty groan slipped out of his perfect pout. “And, I fucking love that idea. With you especially, baby. I wanna give you that control. Let me let go of it. The need to be in charge for a while.” The final three words came out in a soft beg. His eyes narrowed. “Ride me, sweetheart.”

His voice made her core clench, like always. She was slick, ready. “Sounds like an order.” A massive grin threatened to emerge but she fought it back. “I’m surprised I can still walk after the week I’ve had with you. Now, I have to ride you.”

He didn’t hold back the cheesy, ear to ear grin. “Oh, yeah. It’s gonna tire you out. But, I promise, you’ll love it.” Julie lifted up onto her knees and shuffled closer. He stared back at her, upside down, arching his eyebrows. “Oh, so it’s reverse cowgirl, huh?” He hummed in satisfaction.

Julie frowned, realizing an important fact with this particular position. “I don’t get to watch that pretty face of yours.”

Forearms disappeared behind her. Those huge biceps flexed and stretched the fabric of his grey and white flannel. His palms patted the back of her thighs, trying to edge her forward. “Trust me, baby.” He tilted his chin up. “We can do it all sorts of ways. Next time.”

She nodded and held her breath, luxuriating in the fact that she knew there would be a next time. So many next times. The anxiousness crept in again. But, she situated herself above his face.

The groan of delight from him was one she had heard countless times. “Fuck.” He whispered. She clenched again. “Absolutely nothing to be blushing about from where I’m at.”

The bulge straining against his jeans became somewhat of a needed distraction and fortified her courage. God help me. This man is ruining me in the best way imaginable. Her knees wedged under the comfy material covering those hunky shoulders. The seam and soft give of the pillow rested against her calves. Her gaze dipped down, tracked his head tunnelling between her thighs. She lost sight of his eyes and nose and top lip.

His mouth dropped open to speak. “Get down here, sweetheart.” He urged. She quivered at the hot breath hitting her pussy. “You can lean on me. Remember, I’m here to be used. If you get a little carried away and I can’t breathe, I’ll tap out.” He chuckled and shot more heat up to her core. A few light kisses covered her inner thigh. “You do whatever feels good. No shame in your game.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Shut up.” Her palms splayed atop his shirt covering his pecs. Those perky little nipples pressed into her skin. His chest was strong and supportive; the view of his supine body was quite spectacular. Even if he had way too many layers on. One bow leg shifted as he planted a sneaker against the base of her filing cabinet to steady himself.  Arms locked, she guided herself down and closed her eyes.

It was the scruff of his chin that connected first. A gasp left her mouth. He’d maneuvered a bit, could feel him searching with his lips. He glided all over her wet and swelling flesh. Fingers had sunk into the plush of her ass cheeks. He found her entrance with his mouth. Then, he moaned. It rumbled into her pussy. He played her body like an expert musician. The tip of his tongue circled her hole.

“Shit!” She pushed into his stiffening muscle as it swirled and offered itself. Her arms provided leverage to move up and down over that face. “You should be against the law, you know that?” She whimpered.

That arrogant chuckle emitted from his throat, vibrating inside. The sounds were glorious as she rode him. Hesitancy faded. Curiosity emboldened her. She rocked her hips back and forth. His tongue flattened and he stilled, static, so she could lead and swipe her most sensitive spots over him. He snuck in a suck here and there at her clit when her arching became more pronounced.

“Oh, God. Dean.” Moans toppled one after the other as he clamped down on her ass and spread her cheeks open. His strength held her in place. He worked her over with every part of his face. His chin, his lips, his mouth, his nose, his tongue. A fleeting thought entered her mind that even his cheekbones and eyebrows had found a way to fuck her senseless.

Dean gasped for air under her. “Please, baby.” He moaned.

She froze, every inch of her ached, but she worried she was actually hurting him. “Can you not breathe?”

“No. No. I’m good. You’re so fucking good.” He praised her. “I just, wanna…” His fingers had continued to massage her ass. One digit slid closer to her back hole.

Julie gasped. Her body hopped in shock at the realization of what he was requesting.

“Only if you wanna see how it feels.” He kissed her folds. “Can just circle it. Or use my mouth.”

She sighed at his words. “Maybe just your finger. Outside.”

He moaned. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He feasted on her pussy once he’d been given permission.

Julie’s eyes bolted open wide at the new sensations. The pad of his finger circled her rim, testing her give and resistance. She couldn’t help but buckle under the pressure and pleasure he was providing her everywhere.

“Dean…” she groaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

He nodded, not stopping any of it, humming into her pussy.

“Yes, Dean. Oh, God.” She cried out, her body tensing with the impending orgasm. A wave of light and levity crashed into all her senses. His moans, his touch, they all felt far away for the briefest of seconds. Then, it all slammed her back. Cells, every one of them, super sensitive, on edge, as he continued to lick and tease her when she came down from the high.

“Fuck.” An obscene slurp followed his exclamation, still under her slackening body. “I gotta be inside you, baby. Can you handle that?”

She sighed. “Of course I can.”

He chuckled and eased out from under her like he’d been working on Baby’s undercarriage. His whole face glistened with her, tinted red with exertion. “That’s my girl.” He heaved and took in a deep breath.

She fell back on her ass, her whole body a quivering mass. He groaned and sat up, stripped off his flannel, then his t-shirt. Her fingers reached out to touch his skin. “But can you take the lead this time?”

He grinned. “Of course I can.” His head cocked to the side. “But, I don’t want to be any kind of gentle.”

Holy shit. He’s looking at me like I’m dinner. Even more than before we started this whole damn game. “Okay.”

“You sure?” He rose up and pulled her along. Her feet wobbled in the heels. “I mean, it could get a little rough.” His fingers sunk into the base of her scalp and her hair. He pulled her head back with a jolt, tipping her chin up. Her breath hiccupped. “Like that.” He sucked at her bottom lip. “You okay with that?”    

“Yes.” She was dazzled by the green and intensity of his eyes. She licked her lip and tasted herself. He was thick with the smell of the excitement and ecstasy he’d pulled out of her.

He turned and looked over his shoulder. He grabbed her by the waist and twirled her toward the desk. She clamped onto his forearms. The office chair rolled away, loud and careless, slamming into the closet door due to his forceful push. “Hope your shit’s insured.” He rotated her again in those massive arms, determined. His mouth latched onto her neck. His chest pressed into her back. She heard his belt unbuckling. The leather swished from the loops and thudded onto the rug. “Cause you’re getting good and fucked on this desk.” His voice thundered against her skin.

“Dean.” Her head fell back into the crook of his neck.

“Okay.” He sighed. His denim covered thigh wedged between her trembling ones and soaked pussy. He edged her to the corner of the desk where she’d normally sit. His hands shot out around her frame, grabbed at the computer monitor, and brought it back down to rest parallel to one of the walls. His hands returned to her thighs, raked up her skin and back. “Safety in the workplace, right?” The confinement of her bra released with the unclasping by his dexterous fingers. He slipped her out of the straps and cups, grasped her breasts. Fingers tugged at her nipples. Then he smashed her whole body back into him. His head bent to her ear, intoxicating with the sound of his voice and warmth from his mouth. “Let’s get to work. Bend over, sweetheart.”

“Jesus.”

He chuckled and used the firm grip on her breasts to bend her to his will. “Whatever feels better for you once I go to town, you do. Okay?”

She nodded and rested on her elbows, waiting. There was some shuffling again. His zipper. Out of the corner of her eye she noted he wasn’t even bothering to take his jeans completely off. The waistband of his denim and grey boxer briefs wrapped tight around his muscled thighs, spread wide.

“I already know how good and used up you're going to feel around my cock.” The tip brushed against her folds from behind. They moaned in unison. “And, still nice and wet for me.” A hand clamped onto one of her shoulders. She felt the pull back; groaned at the slide of him inside. He bottomed out. “Shit. This is gonna be hard and quick.” He inhaled and exhaled. “Sure you’re ready, baby?”

She knew what she was asking for when she gave him the flippant response. “Don’t I feel ready, hot stuff?”

His hands clamped onto her waist. “Alrighty, then.” A few “Ughs” and “Fucks” and “Shits” flew out of Dean’s mouth as he began to pound. He slid her back and forth over his cock, her ass smacking into his groin, balls rocking into her cheeks with his fast thrusts.

He used one hand to encourage her shoulders into the desk surface, her breasts flattening into the cool wood. She tilted her face and leaned her cheek on a hand for support, moaning at how the slight shift had arched her up into more pleasure. She was going to get a desk burn, if that was possible.

“Damn, Julie. You gotta wear these heels more often.” He grunted out the suggestion. “Gets you in just the right position.”

Everything on the desk was teetering and jostling with every one of his thrusts.

“So fucking lucky.” She caught the mumble fall out of his mouth. He swore again. “Aw, fuck. Yes. Close, baby.”

His admission made her pussy clench.

“Shit. Yeah.” She felt the tension in his body mount. He sped up into her. “Gotta, need to… feel so fucking good.” He pounded in all the way one more time and she felt him go rigid, his fingers sink into the flesh of her ass. Dean let out a soft gasp, connected into her like a jackhammer with one final thrust, and let go, spilling inside. He toppled over, sandwiching her between his body and the desk. His cheek rested on her back. Deep breaths matched hers. His heart beat pulsed against her skin. “Damn.” He finally spoke. A kiss planted along her spine. “Are you alright?”

She nodded into her hand. “So alright.” She smiled. “But, it’s official. I can no longer walk.”

He groaned and pulled out. “Shit. We made a mess of everything.” She could hear him slide his jeans back up.

Her body peeled off the desk surface, sticky with sweat. “Dean, I’m serious. I don’t think my legs work.” She giggled.

Without warning, his arms swooped her up and he carried her to the sofa. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He plopped onto a cushion and settled her on his lap, scooping every naked inch of her into his embrace. “Better?” His lips caressed her mouth.

Her forehead found his. “You make everything better.”

He pulled back. There was worry on his face. “I might not always be able to make everything better, Jules.”

How can he be so sure of himself one second and unwilling to take a compliment the next? “You’re right. Too much pressure.” She tried to ease the tension. “You make it better right now.”

That made him smile. His hand stroked her cheek. “You know, I’m going to have to go back to work. It’s not like I’m getting paid to be your sex slave.”

She frowned. “I feed you.”

He laughed. “I bought the pizza.”

She leaned on his shoulder. “I feed you most nights.”

“True.” He reclined back onto the sofa, taking her with him. “Will you be alright if I check in and see if I can grab a skip tomorrow? There was word of something in upstate PA. Might have me out of town for a day or two.”

“Honestly,” she giggled, “I could probably use the break.”

“Well, now, I’m just hurt.” He scoffed. “You could try and act a little upset.”

She snuggled. “Of course I’ll miss you.” She tapped his chest. “Don’t forget. Mom is having us over her house for lunch on Sunday. So, whatever you do, wrap it up before then.”

“See what I mean about how good you are at giving orders?” The sarcasm evident in his voice.

“Hm.” A forceful grab at his chin met his eyes to hers. “Kiss me.”

Dean grinned into the liplock. His words spilled into her mouth in between the tangle of their tongues. “Only a matter of time before I get on your nerves and you want nothing to do with me.”

“You get on my nerves now.” She smirked, tasting his salt and sweat and her sex again. “And, I still want everything to do with you. Glutton for punishment, I guess.”

“Guess we deserve each other, then.” He leaned back and ran a hand down her chest. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”

She nodded. “Starving.”

He hopped off the sofa and grabbed his flannel off the floor to toss it to her. “I’ll bring up the pizza box.”

She slipped into the warmth of his shirt, bringing her knees to her chest. “You’re bringing up that greasy thing?” Her eyes narrowed in half-jest.

Outstretched arms reminded her of the current condition of the room. “Might as well take advantage of the mess before we clean it up. Hey, I’m not taking it into the bedroom.” He put up a hand before she could protest again. “Remember, you don’t get to be all up in this for the next couple days.” He smirked and then did a flourish of his hand from head to toe.

She shook her head. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

His bare chest flexed as he buttoned his jeans up. “So cute when you give orders.” He slapped the door sill and disappeared.

Julie situated her compacted frame in the corner of the sofa, buttoned up the oversized shirt. Her toes dug into the cushion. A pull of the shade cord gave her a view of the backyard. The sky was pink and darkening by the minute. How long have we been up here? So easy to lose track of everything else when I’m with him.

Her body was pulsing. Every part he’d touched, entered, hypersensitive. Thank God I’ve got my gyno visit tomorrow. She blushed at the thought of having to explain to her doctor that she and Dean had gotten a little carried away over the past week.

She had fallen into a rabbit hole of lust. How could I not? More worrisome? She was trusting him more and more. The safety with him was something she craved. What if I fuck it up? A pang in her gut. What if he fucks it up?

“Jules?” His voice drifted up the stairwell. “You win. I’ll bring up a few slices on a tray. Gonna heat ‘em up. Be up in ten. But, you’ve gotta clean up the office.”

She smiled and called back down. “Aren’t we bossy? Deal, Dean.”

Part 3

Series Page

[ofbloodmagick]

ROSE ARABELLA GORE

pronouns: SHE & HER + THEY & THEM

age: TWENTY - FIVE

sexuality: PANSEXUAL * DEMIROMANTIC * MONOGAMOUS

astrological signs: GEMINI SUN * SCORPIO MOON + ARIES RISING

occupation: BARTENDER @ DUTCH’S + MULTIPLE SIDE HUSTLES

+ traits: PERSUASIVE. ARTISTIC. RESILIENT. FASCINATING. ORIGINAL. RESOURCEFUL. WISE. ADVENTUROUS. BOLD.

-- traits: ECCENTRIC ( CREEPY ). SECRETIVE. DAMAGED. RESTLESS. TWO-FACED. JUDGMENTAL. RECKLESS. IMPULSIVE.

faceclaim: BILLIE LOURD

soul sounds: PLAYLIST !

aesthetic: ( TW: BLOOD ) BOARD !

YO YO YOU YO — it’s lydia here with my lil blood witch arabella , i have yet to get the chance to  r e a l l y  play her and i’m super excited for the chance bc i love them so very much. i have headcanon after headcanon for them , so hit me up if you want to do something bc i am ready to do some shit. anyway , LYDIA ( nary , nettle , snottie , etc. ) here again and i love a good name change , i’m twenty-five years old , a pansexual demigirl ( she / her * they / them ) like arabella themselves , and i reside in the central timezone ( FLORIDA IS HELL ). continue reading to learn all about ARABELLA GORE — the intense , mysterious clever little powerhouse that loves to be number one. 

PERSONALITY

RULING PLANETS: pluto — planet of power & regeneration * mercury — planet of communication * mars — planet of war & energy BODY PART: crotch * reproductive organs * shoulders * hands * head * face GOOD MOOD: resilient , magnetic , passionate , loyal , protective , artistic , brave , fascinating , original , resourceful , wise , adventurous , unstoppable , bold , devoted  BAD MOOD: obsessive , possessive , jealous , secretive , vengeful , manipulative , eccentric ( creepy ) , restless , two-faced , judgmental , proud , self-centered , impulsive , bossy , stubborn , reckless  ( SOME ) FAVORITE THINGS: obscure underground music , spicy food , an air of danger , one of a kind objects , organic ingredients , vinyl , magic , the color black , horror films , blood , fast cars , guitars , new clothes , road trips ( in fast red cars ) , expressing themselves through stunning verbal and physical feats ( SOME ) THINGS SHE HATES: simple small-minded people , insincere flattery , personal questions , living at someone else’s house , mornings , dress codes , authority figures , silence   SECRET WISHES: to have complete and total control +  to have all the answers + to be number one HOW TO SPOT THEM: intense eyes , hawk like gaze , smooth movements , dry blood/bruises/cuts/scars on pale skin , silver hair , big black bow , mischievous twinkle in their eyes , talking with their hands , focused or manic energy , aggressive stance WHERE TO FIND THEM: listening to bauhaus in her dark room , sitting at the corner table of a shitty underground bar smoking a cigarette , selling her magic and / or blood in some dimly lit room  KEYWORDS: intimacy , secrecy , power , intensity , obsession , cleverness , wittiness , inventiveness ,  ingenuity , willpower , initiative , determination , passion , self-belief

arabella’s mind and mouth are busy machines , always moving at warp speed. this witch is one of the most curious and cutting-edge individuals you will meet. there are at least two personalities inside of her at all times. adventurous , she can change her mind faster than the weather and is constantly flipping between moods. 

a true pioneer and trailblazer they’re the first to initiate things , fight for their beliefs and fearlessly put themselves out there. headstrong and determined , ella’s energy can be stubborn and willful a lot of the time. she does have a tendency to dig in her heels , stand her ground and absolutely refuses to be pushed around. 

they will butt their own metaphorical horns against the same obstacle until they break it down — often with sheer force of will. extremely confident , she believes in herself and will on occasion champion others she deems worthy.

she does love to chatter and has a million great ideas , always keeping a notebook handy to jot down her thoughts and ideas at any time. at times , their energy can circulate in a quick and frenetic way , the silver haired wiccan is known to inspireswitty wordplay and dynamic dialogue. 

when she applies herself , arabella is great at brainstorming and socializing. she also craves her “ twin flame ” and kindred spirit’s energy , always up for an intellectual meeting of the minds. 

under the influence , they find themselves with the gift of gab; talking and conversing with others for hours , hopping from pop culture trends to deep political topics. beware “ gossip girl ” ella though , they can crank up the rumor mill sometimes unknowingly. as renowned dr. bernie siegel says , “ [ we ] have the ability to cure with either ‘ words ’ or kill with ‘ swords. ' ” 

powerful and sensual arabella is perhaps one the most misunderstood and mysterious person you could ever meet though. secretive by nature , this southern witch tends to linger in shadowy and hidden places that most wouldn’t usually have the courage to face.

she believes strongly in life , death and resurrection and arabella embraces these life cycles. she is continually transforming and reinventing herself. there are actually more like four sides of arabella and it really just depends how she feels about you.

the first is venomous and possessive like a scorpion ; the second as slippery , charming and deadly as a snake ; the third like a soaring eagle whose piercing gaze sharply observes the landscape ( and its prey ) below ; and the fourth side ever burning and all seeing as a phoenix that rises up from the ashes into eternal rebirth.

your muse may find themselves dealing with an intense individual with lots of energy. she has been known to hole herself up late at night to process complex emotions or channel her overwhelming feelings into focused work and creativity.

the essence of arabella’s personality is magnetic , fascinating , original , passionate , loyal , protective , trendsetting , controlling , unstoppable , bold , powerful , resourceful , wise , adventurous , focused , bond oriented and brave. on the flip side though , she can also be obsessive , possessive , jealous , prideful , self-centered , impulsive , bossy , stubborn , reckless , competitive , two-faced , judgmental , overwhelmed , secretive , vengeful , to even cruel , calculating and manipulative. 

she channels her intuitive tides into a forceful stream of psychic and healing energy. arabella excels in exploring the darker , unexamined sides of life. it has given her excellent research and sleuthing skills , helping her plumb the depths and peer below the surface. this witch likes a challenge , but she does have to really try hard not to fall into being selfish and domineering.

she will without question help out in the darkest hours; this witch bitch is not afraid to go into the murky waters of the emotional and spiritual unknown. intense feelings surface around her closest ties , but around those she isn’t close to ella has a wall up.

believes strongly in merging , bonding and sharing resources. she may get obsessive about a passion project or lover ( forrest ) , even becoming jealous or insecure. this mysterious demigirl wants to hide all of their vulnerabilities. yet , those raw and unprocessed feelings are often their access to power.

arabella can be tricky to understand. with her reserved persona , she seldom starts a conversation or expresses interest in others openly — unless she feels out the situation first.

once you get her to open up , however , you’ll feel her scorching passion for whatever topics fascinate her. be warned: arabella can focus on one subject to an extreme , so you may be in for a deeper dive than you or your muse expect — or want lol

her natural charisma can quickly pique someone else’s interest in the topic too though. 

another way to spot the witch ? look for her piercing gaze , which is hawk like at times narrowing in on her “ prey ”. if you happen to be the focus of that look , watch out.  you will feel read as easily as a children’s book as arabella seems to just KNOW all your secrets , soft spots and fears.

their focused attention can be addictive , even painful when pulled away. be careful how quickly you fall down their rabbit hole — it’s not as easy to crawl back up once you do. when you befriend them , you are likely entering into a power couple or formidable alliance. while she doesn’t give up loyalty and trust easily , once she does she’ll stick with you through thick and thin.

don’t even think about double crossing her tho bc she WILL unleash her fury on you , divulging secrets and airing dirty laundry or worse. revenge is her favorite dish to serve and it’s ice cold. on a positive note , arabella’s like the perfect person to help explore darker emotions or sexuality , happy to guide most through fifty plus shades of irresistible and soul communing experiences.

arabella can come across as clever and quick-witted , but part of the fun ( and curse ) of interacting with the witch is that you’re never quite sure which personality you’re going to experience. will it be the vivacious jokester or the snarky , mean-spirited critic ? 

although they may crave complete and utter control over everything , they secretly yearn for the very thing they fear: true intimacy with others. it takes a lot for ella to reveal her vulnerability , so guard that privilege with the utmost care. as she opens up and learns to show her shadow side , she can heal in ways that are truly profound.

highly impatient and competitive , they have the fighting spirit. ella were born to be number one , a star who steals the spotlight and inspires with her confidence. yeah , they can be impatient , even a little bossy , especially when they don’t get their way. she need lots of attention and can throw quite the tantrum when she doesn’t get it. fortunately , arabella rarely has a problem turning heads.

others love to follow as they take the lead on the latest adventure. she has to be reminded to make sure and let other people be the boss every now and then too , because she has a tendency to alienate potential allies. when they focus their competitive streak into a diva-worthy goal and delegate , they will always rise to the top !

they have a lot of energy , which they apply to everything from tackling supersized projects to unleashing their lusty libidos with forrest. this confident demigirl is known to leap before looking , diving into each new experience with a zest for life that few others can muster. 

they love to be number one and can be a bit of a trendsetter. she has been described before as ‘ a true original who inspires the rest. ‘ with all of their fire power and can-do attitude , there’s nothing arabella can’t ( or won’t ) take on. at times , ella can be selfish or overly focused on herself and it can be a “ blind spot ” for them , they may need a gentle reminder from time to time to share. 

she likes to shatter glass ceilings but can also be off-putting to people in extreme doses. this go-getter can come across as abrasive or overly aggressive , however; arabella will never back down from a challenge and can take on being the champion of those in distress when need be.

BACKGROUND

( TW: child abandonment ) so arabella doesn’t know her parents are but she does know that they ended up in some small southern town called suspiria , located in virgina of all places. her mother was really into the surface level southern gothic aesthetic suspiria offered and the unlikely couple settled there until arabella was born. her parents didn’t keep her very long though seeing as their shotgun wedding was never built to last and after she was born they both returned to where they came from or at least that’s as far as the story goes if you ask anyone in suspiria. 

( TW: military ment. , death ) her parents actually went their separate ways , her mother returned to her wealthy family and comfortable life never to seek out the unnamed child she’d left behind in some no name town. her father went on to join the military and was lost in the line of duty with no one to even pass that knowledge on. 

the infant rose , as they were first called back then , was left on the doorstep of an orphanage and that was where they would spend their childhood. it was not a pleasant place to grow up at all , but she was incredibly lucky in finding her twin flame in a sad , lonely young boy also growing up there.

little ella was never once adopted and she made damn sure to change the minds of anyone who so much as looked in her direction or asked her name. they grew an unhealthy attachment to forrest almost the minute they laid eyes on him , but they are connected very deeply and even as children arabella was acutely aware. 

growing up ( maybe even to this day ) they were considered a loner , an outsider , the weirdo , a creepy kid , etc. and the bullying only got worse. the people in the shitty children’s home and the tiny backwoods town in virginia ? they didn’t really respond too well to the two strange kids that collected animal bones and hunted for ghosts. 

in their early teen years ella started practicing satanism , but that was really just a gateway religion into wicca and her true passion , witchcraft. forrest took to it just as quickly as they did and soon the two had formed their own little coven , something that didn’t stay secret very long.

forrest , being the more scholarly of the two , found himself working for the governor on his campaign and eventually recruited arabella to do the same , but she worked more closely with the governor’s wife and the children. it only took a week , two tops , for the power hungry woman’s true intentions to came to light — dark magic.

( TW: cheating , infidelity )it’s true that ella helped with the gardening , the children , the cleaning , the cooking , all the usual suspects but she also did a number of spells involving blood and shadows. the items they created most for the governor’s wife was their own recipes for love potions and anti-aging blood serums. the woman was extremely suspicious of her husband having affairs with younger women , pretty self explanatory as to why she was seeking help from a known magic user. 

( TW: blood ment. , devil ment. ) it was something of a hot topic in suspiria , the governor and his family hiring the two freaky orphans and why. not long after , a photo was leaked of the governor’s wife as arabella painted her face in the bright crimson blood serum they had concocted themselves. it was common knowledge by then that the two practiced witchcraft and suddenly every headline was about the governor and his wife being ‘ corrupted by the evil devil worshipers the kind family had taken pity on. ‘ 

( TW: assault ment. , death , arson , house fire ) the town ? literally ready to burn them at the freaking stake and the two couldn’t go anywhere without fear of assault of some sort or worse. to make matters all the worse , the governor’s wife and children perished suddenly in a terrible house fire and who was the easiest target to pin it on ? arabella and forrest , the two town rejects , which is exactly what the governor did. they were treated as murderers , hunted like criminals , which is why as soon as they found out about the raging fire they left town. 

( TW: death ) for the next four years arabella and forrest were on the run from the governor and his goons , not stopping in any one place for very long for fear of being caught up to. over a year ago they finally got word that the governor had kicked the bucket and that anyone still looking for them likely had stopped by now. not long after , arabella came across a beautiful , vintage gothic home far more expensive than it was priced , but luckily for them the home had a rather grisly history and had been on the market for so long that the owners had cut the asking price tremendously.

( TW: scamming ) arabella was convinced that it was a sign from the universe letting them know it was okay to settle down for good now and once she’s convinced there’s no real changing her mind. so , by halloween of 2019 they were moving into the beautiful gothic home of the witch’s dreams and not long after they had rooms in their ‘ haunted home ‘ listed on every website possible to lure in dark tourists everywhere. how true everything is ? well , the two did take quite a few creative liberties and the occasional diehard , truly experienced fan of the paranormal would ( possibly have ) call them con artists. 

( TW: scamming ) not only do they rent out rooms , but they also have the occasional ‘ murder tour ‘ of their ‘ serial killer ‘ house. what it really boils down to is arabella has been hustling their whole ass life and it’s never going to stop. there is quite a bit of truth to their stories , but though both ella and forrest have encountered the paranormal multiple times in their lives , not just in pleasance either , they’ve never had any real activity that could count as reliable proof. everything involving the businesses run out of the house are little more than sideshow entertainment for pleasance dark tourists.

( TW: blood ) the witch also has a part time job working for jules at dutch’s , her official title would be a bartender but she really just does what is asked of her. you probably guessed it already , but she does also have a side operation selling her blood magic from underneath the bar at dutch’s and they’re hopeful that their boss is none the wiser.

ETC.

she does still have a slight accent because she is from such a small town where everybody had a drawl or twang. she doesn’t have a good education by typical societal standards , because she had such shitty public education growing up as an orphan and no one who enforced her learning or attending. they are , however;  incredibly street smart and by no means stupid. they have since taught themselves how to learn in a way best for them and are always devouring book upon book in order to teach themselves things otherwise she may never know. 

( TW: blood ) ella is a blood witch and often uses her own blood , animal blood , someone else’s blood , pretty much if there’s blood in any form she’s set. she 100% sells her magic to anyone who wants it and does dabble in the shadow side. it might not actually work all the time , but that’s not entirely her fault. 

( TW: bruising / injury ment. , blood , scar ment. , self harm ) a pretty big feminist , used to be in an all femme band called the hex girls ( come for me ) , goth and proud ??? a really big horror movie fan , pansexual demigirl representinggg ! always has bruises and cuts , dried blood covers their skin a lot where they miss it or just don’t care to hide it , also has quite a few scars from where she’s cut too deep ( some maybe on accident , some maybe on purpose ).

( TW: blood ) ella’s very creative ! they like to read , write , make art — out of blood lol she uses blood of all types to create a lot of art. she takes blood baths ( animal blood ) occasionally on the full moon , drinks animal blood during certain rituals , etc. also super into bone and taxidermy , you can definitely find her at deblanc’s. they also like to haunt the cemetery and creep around spotlight cinema , film is a big passion of hers. 

( TW: drugs & alcohol ment. , blood ) DOES imbibe lol a partaker of alcohol ( prefers animal blood with red wine or vodka ) and certain drugs. ella definitely smokes weed & cigarettes , they enjoy partying just like the rest but she’s more reserved and likes to people watch.

okay so it’s getting late and i can’t believe how long this intro actually took me to finish tweaking , but if you want to plot with me pls pls pls hit me up bc i’d love to do some stuff !! my tumblr DMs are always open and you can always hmu on discord too !! i also write bryce winslow ( milo ventimiglia FC ) but you likely know that lol. i’m sure there’s more i could say about arabella honestly , but if you have any specific things you’d like to know or it seems like i left something out or need to take a second look at something i’d appreciate any / all feedback. can’t wait to get some replies out , but that might have to wait until the morning. @phqextras​

[swellwriting]

tagged by @kabeswaters​ and @fortisfiliae​ love u both sm <3 <3

1. on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? it fluctuates but right now -1 

2. describe yourself in a hashtag? #anxious

3. if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? JAKE MOTHERFUCKING GYLLENHAAL 

4. if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? i dont know what that is hah

5. what’s one thing people don’t know about you? i guess some people don’t know i’m type one diabetic??

6. what’s your wake up ritual? uh phone, animal crossing, fruit loops, weed

7. what’s your go to bed ritual? I watch asmr videos cuz im usually high as fuck and they knock me out lol, or i watch tiktok or pillow talk with my bf nick.

8. what’s your favorite time of day? like 9 pm?

9. your go to for having a good laugh? my boyfriend always makes me laugh no matter how angry or upset i am so i’d talk to him uwu

10. dream country to visit? FRANCe specifically Paris oui oui with my french candian bullshit

11. what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? when they announced 5sos was touring with one direction and i had tickets, never screamed so loud in my LIFE

12. heels or flats/sneakers? sneakers duh

13. vintage or new? vintage babey

14. who do you want to write your obituary? ME from the great beyond, the only other person who knows me well enouhg is nick and i love him but he is very stupid.

15. style icon? uh harry styles, devon lee carlson, halsey, bella hadid, tyler the creator some normal people whos style i LOVE  from insta are rebeccaramsdale , kehllie , kikalateefff , yourgirlneens , lilxmg !

16. what are three things you cannot live without? phone, insulin, art, music

17. what’s one ingredient you put in everything? probs vanilla or hotsauce, the only two flavours.

18. what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? my dead brother DJ, kurt cobain andddd ryan dunn from jackass what a weird mix.

19. what’s your biggest fear in life? loosing my senses, loosing control, the fear that i am not actually real and ... oh spiders.

20. window or aisle seat? window 

21. what’s your current tv obsession? think its gonna be adventure time again

22. favorite app? instagram or discord so i can talk to my friends uwu

23. secret talent? i can speak french and giberish

24. most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? camping i guess?

25. how would you define yourself in three words? anxious, empathetic, creative

26. favorite piece of clothing you own? my vintage star wars shirt

27. a must have clothing item that everyone should have? blank tees, good quality blank tees!!! white black grey mhmhmh

28. a superpower you would want? i’d wanna be spidergirl

29. what’s inspiring you in life right now? nothing at all :(

30. best piece of advice you’ve received? my grade six teacher telling me that i was very empathetic as i was sitting at the back of the class crying because of the movie we were watching, she told me not everyone is empathetic like i am but its okay to be soft. but not to expect that from everyone else.

31. best advice you’d give your teenage self? teenage me was a mess but not messy enough that i’d change anything. i’d just say, things get better but im currently back in the state teenage me was in so...i’d be lying. maybe that wanting to kill yourself does not count as a personality trait - and start reading comics earlier cuz u really like them.

32. a book everyone should read? i read wack books, everyone on tumblr should read fangirl tho

33. what would you like to be remembered for? something i created

34. how do you define beauty? self expression and individuality 

35. what do you love most about your body? wait people love their bodies? not everyone was severly damaged by online diet culture and thigh gap era tumblr? weird ok

36. best way to take a rest/decompress? weed or bath or a movie

37. favorite place to view art? there is an art gallery in saskatchewan that i love, i was suposed to go there this summer before corona took over :(((

38. if your life was a song, what would the title be? either something short like “mellow” or fob style like “im so anxiuos all the time and nothing ever feels real and i dont know what im doing but somehow im doing pretty good while feeling prety bad and laughing through my tears lol.” or i’d steal “teen idle” by marina and the diamonds.

39. if you could master one instrument, what would it be? guitar or piano because im lame at both.

40. if you had a tattoo, where would it be? i want two moths above my knees rn

41 dolphins or koalas? neither

42. what’s an animal that represents you? im more of a pokemon, i think id be jigglypuff

43. best gift you’ve ever received? whenever nick buys me clothes from stussy or maybe infinity on high on vinyl.

44. best gift you’ve given? i bought nick the entire sin city comic series in one giant book.

45. what’s your favorite board game? monopoly

46. what’s your favorite color? yellow

47. least favorite color? that weird pinky purple

48. diamond or pearls? pearls

49. drugstore makeup or designer? colour pop and fenty

50. pilates or yoga? yoga

51. coffee or tea? tea

52. what’s the weirdest word in the english language? pumpernickle is my fav one.

53. dark chocolate or milk chocolate? MILK

54. stairs or elevators? stairs

55. summer or winter? summer, canadian winters are brutal.

56. you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? ur asking someone who has very specific comfort foods so i already do this - cheese bagel toasted with cream cheese and then toasted again to melt cheddar cheese on top. with a diet coke thats very important.

57. a dessert you don’t like? cheesecake 

58. a skill you’re working on mastering? im crazy so this is a lot but - writing , drawing and painting, polymer clay, sewing, resin art and pottery.

59. best thing to happen to you today? nothing

60. worst thing to happen to you today? the line at starbucks was too long and i had to get wendys instead, and a few other things i won’t mention.

61. best compliment you’ve ever received? whenever my mom says i remind her of my brother dj, when people say anything nice about my art or writing style. when people ask about my clothes. when my friend jess called me a “known softie” uwu

62. favorite smell? lavender

63. hugs or kisses? hugs

64. if you made a documentary, what would it be about? i’d talk about star wars for hours on end 

65. last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? of mice and men made me ball my fucking eyes out

66. lipstick or lipgloss? chapstickk

67. sweet or savory? sweet

68. girl crush? Zendaya

69. how do you know you’re in love? idk ive just always been in love with nick (since i was 15) before i even really knew what love was, i guess if the other person feels like home, you know ur doing something right.

70. a song you can listen to on repeat? nine in the afternoon by p!atd or a match into water by peirce the veil, over my head by fleetwood mac

71. if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? harry styles that mysterious fucker

72. what are you most excited for/about this time in your life? currently not looking forward to anything becase my life is super uncertain right now ha.. maybe the release of the chaos walking movie whenever that decides to happen.

tagging: i assume yall have been tagged in this already but just incase @beskarjedi @woakiees @bluemadcnna @carolinesbookworld  @theseuscmander and anyone else who wants to do this consider urself tagged.

[shy-violet-soul]

Under the Influence

Summary: When Rae gets hurt, one brother comes to the rescue. Will relocations and pharmaceuticals pry some growing feelings into the open for the other brother?  Characters: OFC Rae Himmel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel Warnings: description of injury/treatment, bad language words, pharmaceuticals, Winchester shenanigans, mutual pining, fluffity fluff fluff A/N: Oft requested, here is a continuation of Rae >>> and the Winchester brothers! Other tales about Rae & the brothers can be found on my MASTERLIST.

A huge thank you to the effervescent, enthusiastic, & estimable @pinknerdpanda​ for beta-ing this for me. So many panda-hugs to you, girl!

gif credit: https://tenor.com by CasMcKenzie5

Now The feel of the metal stairs scraped pleasantly under his boots as he trotted down into the war room. A long overdue supply run had kept him out for a bit - the latest batch of credit cards awaited them at the post office. Both brothers needed new socks, and the sporting goods store also had the best deal on rock salt in the hunting section. Yahoo for DIY deer licks. Shifting box, bag, and bundle, he strode his way into the library.

“Anybody home?” No answer. A brief flicker of surprise shrugged his shoulders as the items plunked and rustled to the table. Apple, cinnamon, and rosemary in the air tickled his nose, stretching a smile up into crinkles by his eyes. Rae had been busy. He’d been hoping to catch some time with her today. The silence in the bunker told him he had enough time to clean up a bit before he invited her to watch that new Marvel movie with the nonchalance he’d practiced and perfected in the car. Plan in place, he hastened his steps towards the hall before the smug, teasing brother gaze found him.

And there she was. Sprawled out on the hallway floor like a cute little pile of laundry. With her left arm bent and bandaged to her torso and a magnificent blue bruise decorating her left eye.

“Rae?”

“Hiya, there! Oh, crap, it’s him.”

45 minutes ago Bopping along to Bobby Darin, Rae gave a satisfied nod to the rosemary apple pie steaming expectantly on the counter. Hopefully, the unique recipe would dodge scorn from the brothers. A stack of Men of Letters files waiting for research were calling her name. She hip-checked an open drawer closed, scooted the towel over the oven door handle to dry, and grabbed her phone. As she turned towards the library door, the “pantry” shelves caught her attention. The jar of molasses on the top shelf had tipped over - if that sucker kamikazed and broke, that would be actual hell to clean up.

Sighing, Rae glanced over her shoulder at the folding step stool that lived behind the sink. For the boys, with their muscles for days, it was easy to extricate. For her? She’d wrenched stuck paper from copier guts more easily. Rae didn’t hesitate; she scrabbled up the shelves and reached towards the jar.

Rae would later be ready to swear on Dean’s sacred stack of vinyls that stupid jar jumped. Right off the shelf. Onto her face.

In the heartbeat it took for the pain to hit her vocal cords, Rae reared back instinctively, one foot slipping from its perch. Her feet probably could have skated for purchase and saved her if her hand hadn’t decided to kung-fu-grip the shelf on her way down. Pain ripped through her left shoulder in the same heartbeat the pain in her face caught up, mixed with the fear the brief freefall sparked. Her scream echoed through the bunker as she hit the floor. Actually, first the weird metal pole in front of the shelves, then hit the floor.

Pounding bootfalls ran in her direction.

“Rae! What the hell?!”

Now “Molasses ain’t slow, Winchester. It’s faster than two shakes of a tog’s dail. Tail’s dog. Is that right? I think that’s right.” 

Her eyes had sagged shut during her speech as he quickly crouched beside her. At his touch on her face, she dragged her eyes back open. Swollen left eyelid tried twice before the right decided to make an effort and blinked wide.

“Oh, my God, you’re so damn cute. Don’t tell Sam I said that!” 

Shock blew his own eyes saucered - right before his excited grin could appear, he cleared his throat.

“Rae, are you drunk? What happened?” he asked as he leaned to help her sit up. He hesitated, though, unsure where to grab her, so he yelled for his brother. His cute little pile of laundry sighed and smiled.

“Yep, yep, yep. Cute, cute, cute.”

43 minutes ago “Watch it, gigantor!”

“Hang on, I’ve gotta see the damage.” Rough fingers pressed carefully around her eye, nose, and cheekbone. “No fractures, just one grandaddy of a shiner.”

A pained sound growled from Rae. “That’s because all the fractures are in my arm!”

He huffed as he scooted around to her side, ignoring her grunts and whimpers as he examined what he could get to around her flinches and flails.

“OW! Watch it, that hurts!”

“Okay, okay. So, it’s fairly simple. The humeral head has been forcibly propelled out of the glenoid fossa.”

Rae glared up at him through the hot pulse of unhappy blood vessels in her face. “English, you fool! Don’t spew those big words at me!”

His lips twitched as he tried to hide a smile. She is adorable when she’s mad!

“You’ve got a dislocated shoulder there, Grace Kelly.”

Now “What’r you doin’ on the floor? I left you in your bed. Remember? You wanted my blanket?”

“What happened?”

“No blanket can hold me. I freedomed for my fought….what blanket?”

“What happened?!”

“That extra soft goldish brown one.”

Rae’s eyes were still closed as the brothers carefully hauled her to a sitting position. She sighed dreamily. “I love that blanket. It’s just like his hair. All fluffy and soft and kinda...you know, kinda….brown. I love his hair.” Her eye popped open and she stared up at blanket-owning brother. “Is that weird? That I love his blanket hair?”

The brothers stared at each other, one of them going red right up into his ears.

“What the hell happened?!?”

38 Minutes “Just amputate it and put me out of my misery!”

He rolled his eyes as he helped her move into place on the infirmary bed. “We’re not gonna amputate it. I’m telling you, I can fix this.”

The glare she shot him was all squinty suspicion. “I’m not sure I trust you, Winchester. You said that after I caught you eating my last Oaks Candy mini Melty Bars.”

“And didn’t I have Garth swing through Oshkosh after taking care of that wendigo outside Algoma? He was in cornfield heaven.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do what you’re going to do.”

Shaking his head with a grin, he coaxed her to lean forward slightly as he cupped the front of her shoulder with his left hand, his right warm between her spine and shoulder blade. “Okay. On three.” He felt her shudder as she tried to brace herself, exhaling in preparation of a deep breath. “One -”

SNAP.

Lungs empty, Rae couldn’t even squeal as she crumpled forward like a paper bag. Additional, abominable pain seared sweat into her armpits and tears into her eyes as she sucked in air, slamming her good fist into the mattress beneath her. Dropping to his knees, her tormenting saviour peered up at her worriedly. Oh crap - did I make it worse? What if I made it worse?

“You okay?”

“You - lying - no! What happened to ‘on three’?!”

He cringed as the words croaked from her tight throat, gingerly patting her knee and ready to duck if she swung at him. “Hey, I learned that move from the best. Look on the bright side. The worst is over. I’ll wrap it up real good for you, and I’ve got some fantastic pain killers!”

Carefully leaning on her good arm, Rae shot him the evilest glare from her one eye she could muster.

“You better wrap up both arms for your own protection, mister!”

My brother’s gonna kill me.

Now “I ought’a kill you!”

Dean rolled his eyes as he helped get Rae’s limp-noodle-legs into Sam’s arms. “She’s fine! I did a Boy Scout badge worthy job of wrapping her up and gave her some of that Demerol you think you hid. Rest, ice, compression, elevation - she’ll be good as new in a couple of days.” He glanced down to see his patient happily hanging her head upside down over Sam’s arm as she stared at the number on the door in front of her.

“Didja know that our...our numbers’s over 1,000 years olld? Sam told me that. Sweet, smart Sam. I love his sweet, smart brain.”

Fresh heat flooded more red up into Sam’s ears as he glared at Dean. “How much of that Demerol did you give her?”

Dean shrugged, hiding his smirk. “Two, same as I take it.” The older brother immediately took a step back when Sam’s eyes popped wide and the vein in his forehead throbbed visibly.

“You idiot! Those are 100 milligram tablets!”

“Yeah, so?”

“She’s almost half your size! Half of one tablet would have been more than plenty! I’m amazed she’s even breathing!”

“Oooooo…” Cringing, Dean took another step back as Sam tried to move Rae right side up. Her one good eye stared up Sam dazedly before she slapped her hand over his mouth.

“Rae! Stop talking! Stop saying words ‘bout Sam’s brain! And his hair. Oh, my lord, I love his hair. Shhh!”

Bitch-face-level 99 burned from Sam’s eyes over Rae’s hand, and Dean decided a tactical retreat was in order.

“I’m gonna go...somewhere...not here.”

Distantly, Rae gathered that Dean and Sam were having words, but she couldn’t marshal together enough thoughts to worry. All she knew was that she was warm, her shoulder and face didn’t hurt anymore, and she really, really liked Sam. Where was Sam, anyway?

A wonderful, floaty, rocking motion made her head spin, and something tickled her hand. Her eye slowly tracked up her arm to see her hand plastered across Sam’s mouth, and he was trying to say something. Seeing him so close filled her with pure happiness.

“Hi, Sam! Hiya! It’s Sam!”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at his little limp laundry girl as he carried her to her room. “Hi, Rae. Just hang on a second, and I’ll have you in bed.”

She plopped her head on his shoulder, sighing dramatically. “Oh, my God, he can have me in bed any time. Hoo, boy. I mean - arms. So much arms,” she drawled, poking his bicep.”

Sam almost choked on his own breath, heat arrowing through him. “What? No - I mean - not now, just - hang on,” he stammered out, striding into her room, eager to get her situated and flee before things got any more ridiculous. The gold-brown chenille blanket from Dean’s room lay in a wrestled pile on the floor that he stepped over before carefully depositing her on her bed. Trying to lift her to prop her on pillows was like trying to fold a sleeping bag - soft, sprawling, and sticking to him like static. When he finally situated her into place, he glanced up to find their faces so close, he could count the freckles on her nose. That little skip in his heart he felt so often when near her jumped to life, and the temptation to kiss those soft lips was almost irresistible.

Surrounded by warmth and strength, Rae felt blissfully safe. The scent of Sam’s cologne tickled her nose, causing a grin to tug briefly at her lips. Everything was dark, though. Why was everything dark? 

“Did Sam turn off the lights?”

“Uh...no?”

“Then, why is it so dark?”

“Because your eyes are closed.”

Oh. That made sense. With a series of facial gymnastic maneuvers, Rae managed to stretch her eye open. Sam’s topaz gaze waited for her, shining in autumn-colored glory down on her. A swirl of giddiness heralded a bloom of warmth in her chest, and she couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to stretch right off her face.

The smile lighting up Rae’s warm pecan-pie-brown gaze sent Sam’s belly flip-flopping, and he couldn’t help but smile back. Before he could blink, her mouth suddenly dropped open as she gasped in something like horror, her hand slapping over his eyes. 

“Ohmygaw, don’t look at his eyes! They’re a trap, Rae! They’re too pretty!”

Sam couldn’t stop the grunt when one of her fingers jabbed into his left eyeball, hurrying to peel her hand away before she blinded him. Blinking the pained tears away, he still couldn’t stop his smile as he rubbed the offended orb.

“You think I have pretty eyes?”

Rae’s head swam, but whether it was his dimples or whatever had happened before - memory suddenly escaped her - she couldn’t say for sure. To protect herself, she clapped her hand over her own eyes.

“The dimples of doom!” she whispered. “I’m done for.”

Fresh surprise sent Sam’s eyebrows skyward. “Dimples of doom?”

A strangled sound croaked from Rae as she sank back into the pillows. “I want to kiss them!” Just as quickly, she snatched her hand away and sent him a puppy dog look that rivalled his own. “Can I kiss them?”

Sam reeled back when he caught himself leaning towards her, steeling himself against her pleading gaze. Everything in him practically begged him to grab her, kiss her dimples, and not let her go for the foreseeable future. Hearing her drug-induced confessions set his heart pounding - he’d had feelings for her for so long. But they were just that - ramblings fueled by inadvertent opiate overdose. He couldn’t - wouldn’t - take advantage of something Rae didn’t mean.

“I think it’s time I get out of here so you can get some sleep.”

“You mean, I can’t kiss them?” She sounded downright hurt. Sam forced himself to his feet.

“Rae, you’re high as a kite on the meds Dean gave you. You won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

Not 100% sure what he said, Rae only knew he wasn’t beside her anymore, and he looked sad. A couple of his words untangled in her brain, and she frowned.

“You listen here, Wam Sinchester. I remember stuff just fine!”

“It’s okay, Rae, just get some rest. I’ll check on you later.”

Addled though she was, the dismissal came through loud and clear. Anger tried to shove aside the drugs as she fought to sit up, failed, and settled for giving him a serious stink eye.

Sam blinked when she fixed a weird, squinty look on him, then turned to head for the door, hoping to strengthen his resolve. He failed miserably - one glance over his shoulder saw the dim light from the desk lamp shining amber lights into her wild, messy curls, and he was snared once again.

“You - you - oh!” she groused. “You say you take one fake sugar in your coffee, but you take three reg’lar ol’ sugars when you think no one’s lookin’. When you watch a for’n movie the first time, you do it without th’ sub...the subt...the words on the bottom ‘cuz you like to listen to the language. The first time I saw you came back from joggin’, I stopped breathin’ for a second, ‘cuz - damn, boy. Ever’ time you touch my shoulder an’ give me that quick smile, I can hardly stop myself from huggin’ you. You like peanut butter an’ raspberry rhubarb jam sammiches. You don’t like trail mix with dried bananas. And you!” she swore out dramatically, pointing an accusing finger at him, “you keep stealin’ my ‘spensive shampoo!”

Suddenly exhausted, her eye starting to twinge, Rae flopped back onto the pillows and burst into tears.

Sam stood frozen - shocked like he hadn’t been in a long time. A man of keen observation, Sam knew a lot about Rae. She could eat breakfast food three meals a day. She scorned Cheetos but powerhoused through Cheese Nips. Fancy scented candles gave her headaches, but lavender essential oil went with her everywhere. The first time she smiled, his heart damn near stopped. She killed him when she wore that grey tunic-length ‘Namastay in Bed’ t-shirt; the navy lace bralette she always paired it with was just visible through the light fabric, and her boobs...whoa. She always kept a hair band around her wrist, even if she wore one in her hair. And, yes, he stole her shampoo because it kept the scent of her with him.

So, yeah - he knew a lot about Rae. All the reasons why he’d fallen for her. He’d never dared hope she knew him, too.

The fat tears dripping down her swollen, purpling cheek sent Sam’s heart straight to his belly. In one quick step, he sank to his knees at her bedside, snatching up her free hand.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, don’t cry!”

She grabbed for him; powerless to resist her, Sam tucked her face into his neck and breathed her in.

“I tol’ you I ‘membered stuff!”

“You did. You do.”

“An’ ‘s okay you steal the shampoo ‘cause...pretty hair.”

“Thank you for letting me steal it.”

“An’ it just hurts ‘cause I want to hug you all the time. You an’ your stupid pretty eyes.”

Smiling so wide his stupid, pretty eyes nearly crinkled shut, Sam softly stroked her hair. 

“You can hug me anytime you want, Rae.”

“I can?”

“As long as I can hug you.”

Snuffling pathetically, Rae nodded against his skin. “Okay.” Completely spent, she sagged against him in a boneless sprawl. “Tired, Sam. Can’t...my eyes can’t.”

Sam gently eased her back down, stroking her unblemished cheek with his thumb. “It’s okay, Rae, you rest.”

“Stay?” she mumbled out before a slight snore buzzed from her. Sam sat for a moment, just gazing at her and basking in the warmth of shared affection. Then, he pulled off her shoes along with his own, and drew Dean’s prized blanket over both of them as he cuddled her to him carefully. Tomorrow would come soon enough to talk clearly about these confessions. For now, he was staying right where he was.

A long time later, when two gentle snores back-and-forthed in the room, Dean carefully cracked the door open, grinning smugly at the two curled up together. Closing the door soundlessly behind him, he didn’t flinch when Cas appeared in the hall.

“Did it work?”

“Like a charm. Just call me Cupid. Nope - strike that. He’s a dick. Call me...Dr. Love,” the hunter drawled out proudly, flipping a pill bottle up before catching it.

“So, I adjusted the dosage correctly to not kill Rainbow?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean turned for the library. “Yes, Cas. Just needed her under the influence enough to get those two lovesick nerds talking.”

[jefferyryanlong]

Fresh Listen - The Squids, The Squids (Bankshots Music, Inc. and Oto-Songs, Inc., 1981) and Duganopacalypse Now (A Fan Compilation, circa 1981)

(Some pieces of recorded music operate more like organisms than records. They live, they breathe, they reproduce. Fresh Listen is a periodic review of recently and not-so-recently released albums that crawl among us like radioactive spiders, gifting us with superpowers from their stingers.)

The first band I ever loved was the Beatles, and John Lennon was dead years before I had any idea of who they were. It wasn’t until Kurt Cobain died that I had any interest in Nirvana--I recall an eighth grade classmate looking at mw with contempt after I told them I was unfamiliar with their music, when “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was already an MTV hit. The chemical composition of my brain was dissolved and reconstituted over the course of two weeks when, at twelve years old, I watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and Cool Hand Luke on late-night television, but both films were about twenty years old by then. I just heard of Herbie Hancock’s V.S.O.P. album, featuring Freddie Hubbard, Wayne Shorter, Ron Carter, and Tony Williams, about two weeks ago. I’m 42 years old now and I’ve only just come to realize how cutting and prescient Claude McKay’s novel Banjo is. 

All this to say that I wish I’d been around when Honolulu’s The Squids were playing around town. (Much thanks to Roger and Leimomi from Aloha Got Soul for pointing me in the right direction.) The Squids were so odd and varied, a New Wave outfit with the muscularity and venom of the truest punk rock, able to invoke the B-52′s in the same gig as Talking Heads or the Ventures or the Specials, all with the same veracity, but much weirder and crueler. They married a sunny, breezy synth sound with an aesthetic that I can only describe as joyously psychopathic, spraying smart-ass malice on the unfortunate subjects of their songs.

Though the band only officially released a 7-inch EP in 1981 (currently unavailable on Amazon) Comrade Motopu, the mysterious archivist who, through digitized vinyl and cassette tapes, as well as donated photos, scanned liner notes, flyers and news releases, has painstakingly agglomerated Hawai‘i rock music and associated miscellany on a magnificent pre-Y2K looking website, has not only shared the Squids’ EP (featuring “Tourist Riot,” “‘Love Theme’ From Surfer Boy,” “In,” and “Rio”), but what is also listed as Duganopacalypse,  a fan compilation with even more twisted tunes: “Medicine,” “Sexy,” “Head in the Sand,” the ska-soaked “New Girl in Town,” their partially awful, mostly spectacular “Cool Clear Water,” and “Pretty Vacant (with Dugan),” the Never Mind the Bullocks classic with a seemingly hated fan on the inarticulate vocals. I only pray that Comrade Motopu continues documenting this underhand era of Pacific rock music of the late Seventies to early Nineties--the site is a treasure, and more words about the bands highlighted on comrademotopu.com (the Vacuum and Yahweh’s Mistake, for instance) will be coming soon.

The Squids began as a concept by guitarist Beano Shots in 1979, later to take shape as a full-fledged human/cephalopod music group with members Kit and Gerry Ebersbach, Dave Trubitt, and Frank Orall. Those of us who sweatily flailed our way through a booze-and-drug bender on the strobe-lit (at least, as it appeared then) dance floor of the Wave Waikiki between the hours of 2 AM and 4 AM when all the other bars closed down would be surprised to learn that the now-demolished former nightclub, a hub for the scraped-out, after-hours husks operated by the residual combustion of chemicals in their blacked-out reptilian brains, once hosted the edgy Squids as the house band, presumably when the going-out crowd still had an affinity for fun, strong music, and did not simply seek to propel themselves upon the the mechanized beats and soulless zombie tracks initiated by a faceless button masher, in hopes that they would be manipulated, by the end of the night, into some loveless fuck with a nobody. 

Of the Squids’ stage show, we have but one recorded example of the band live in concert: a faithful interpretation of the Sex Pistols’ “Pretty Vacant,” in which the players serve as back-up band for a loyal heckler known only as “Dugan.” Having taken (jokingly) enough shit from Dugan, the band harasses him into sing-shouting the song. The performance captures the “fuck you” sentiment of “Pretty Vacant” with a primitive abandon that almost makes the original seem like a Monkees’ tune. It also portrays a punk rock scene less enlightened to the diverse lifestyles it later engendered, when “dick sucking” was applied exclusively as a pejorative.

The same pissed-off adrenalin leads off the the 1981 EP in “Tourist Riot,” an apocalyptic narrative of that species of traveler compelled to hammer a new experience into a predetermined mold that will establish an appropriate backdrop to their social media posts. The tourists here burn hotels and smash out windows when their expectations aren’t suitably met--a bad vacation in which they are pushed around and mistreated leads the tourists to murder and mayhem.

“Tourist Riot” lays out the Squids’ music aspirations right away, especially in the interplay between Beano Shots’s electric guitar and Kit Ebersbach’s keyboards, which morph from forbidding electronic warning tones to psychedelic ghost notes to the replicated sirens of a city on fire, collateral damage in a war between locals and tourists. Following a surprisingly effective bridge that concludes with a shouted “Fuck it, I’m going to New York City!” is an atonal guitar solo reminiscent of Nels Cline asleep at the wheel, redeemed by a more fluid keyboard exploration.

When Jimi Hendrix claimed that “you’ll never hear surf music again” in 1967, he was, through the example of his own transcendent playing on “Third Stone from the Sun,” burying the corpse of that elementary, improvisationally unimaginative rock instrumental with the axe with which he had slew it. To that end, after hearing Jimi Hendrix and all the musical manifestations that took shape from his cosmic residue, it is sometimes hard to take surf music seriously. “‘ Love Theme’ from Surf Boy” comes across as the Squids’ winking parody of the genre, with its reverb, its whammy, its overall melancholy, and its simplicity. That said, there is some sophistication in the song’s structure, as if the wordless tune was more an exercise in technique, an attempt to take stock creatively before reaching out to a farther and stranger place.

On “In,” the guitars and keyboards snarl rabidly toward the same explosive destination, barely kept in check by the talents of the players. Lyrically minimalist, the song’s non-sequiturs slice through the instruments like assembled cut-up style by William S. Burroughs. “Are you losing sense of humor, could be Jesus was only kidding” followed by “are you losing sense of humor, could be Jesus was just a salesman.” These pieces of thoughts unfinished resonate in my head like something close to catchy--to what end, I don’t know. Where the keyboards overmatched the guitars on “Tourist Riot,” on “In” the guitar is locked in and dirty, climaxing in repetitive harmony between the instruments to close out the song.

When I first read the track listing to the 1981 EP, I thought the final song “Rio” would be a rough rendering of the hit video single by near-contemporaries Duran Duran (whose synth-guitar arrangements, though undoubtedly smoother, find relation in the Squids’ overall aesthetic). Instead, “Rio” is an acid commentary on the American Capitalist, represented as a white suit soaked in sweat, and his compulsion to foster vice and iniquity to exotic locales.

I’m not sure whether the fan compilation Duganopacalypse, also available for listening through the Comrade Motopu website, was recorded before, after, or  during the sessions of the 1981 EP. A few tracks lead me to believe that the songwriting and arrangements are from a wiser, more sophisticated band, while other songs seem so apelike in their imitations as to come through as pointless satires, or maybe the explorations of a band trying to find its identity.

In “Medicine,” for instance, the Squids operate under an overpowering B-52′s filter that washes out their uniqueness. Whereas on previous tracks this influence existed only at the fringes of their sound, the singer on “Medicine” channels Fred Schneider on the verse and switches to David Bowie during the bridge. The role-play, though, doesn’t kill the the more interesting aspects of “Medicine”--its guitar lick is inventive and so wormy as to be slightly irritating, and the song’s themes, that one must willingly imbibe “the medicine” to accept the hypocrisies of this “downer world,” resound strongly to anyone who casts their eyes around a crowded room.  

Where the B-52′s references go deep in “Medicine,” Talking Heads emerge in “Sexy,” from David Byrne’s vocal tics to the subtle and swampy “Take Me to the River” vibe. It goes beyond straight homage to cover band territory, but it does emphasize the band’s technical ability to lock into a groove. “New Girl in Town” is a heaping serving of not-completely-warmed-up ska leftovers, a bit misogynist (of its time, but still). “Head in the Sand,” regrettably, could have been the Squids’ crossover pop hit. I say “regrettably” because, even though the song has a point--that the ability of humans to maintain a semblance of happiness is to carefully cultivate the warm fuzz of obliviousness, sacrificing will to fate in the belief that nothing we could do to change anything would matter anyway--the effort seems more calculated than organic, a plastic approximation of the closest this band, given their specific set of skills, could get to a pop crossover hit. The work put into it seems to drain away at some of the dirty magic. It‘s self-conscious in a way that the other songs aren’t.

Finally we have “Cool Clear Water,” what would have been the band’s masterpiece if they’d spent a little more time recording a decent take (the version on the Duganopacalypse almost sounds live, though it could have been laid down in a rehearsal space). This is not the country classic performed by Marty Robbins and Johnny Cash. The Squids’ “Cool Clear Water” is the frightening confession of a soldier recently returned from the war in Vietnam, directed by an angel spirit to mass murder with a shotgun from a tower in town. When the killer is set to be executed, the angel spirit comforts him, tells him his spirit will be redeemed in heaven for “setting the people free.” The unnerving subject matter of “Cool Clear Water” is given sinister shape by the relentless horror-notes of Kit Ebersbach’s organ, the guitar holding down the song’s march toward inevitable nothingness because the bass (normally played with elan by Gerry Ebersbach) is a complete mess (I’m not sure if she hadn't learned the song or if she just showed up at the gig drunk).

As Marc Maron frequently says on his podcast, “there’s no late to the party” anymore, given the the amount of content available to all of us via the digital consciousness that we are now more plugged into than not. But I’ve waited all my life to lose myself in something vital, of the moment, with my eyes and ears and heart present while the thing is taking shape, at its most temporal. I feel that way listening to the Squids. I wish I could have seen them at one of their Wave gigs. I wish I could have had a beer with them afterward, and gushed in the embarrassing way I do about things I love.

[areluctantsblog]

Music AU - part 1

Au where Tony Stark is a music producer & the owner of Avengers Entertainment, Peter is a multi-instrumentalist British jazz musician and War Machine is a progmetal band. In other words the starker fic in which Peter smirks a lot and Tony remains astonishingly oblivious for a long time.

All characters 18+

(If anyone’s interested, here’s what i was listening to while writing: https://open.spotify.com/user/tdaehi9xumogtle8iljnpahpi/playlist/00rIJxgBEZDRHV5dUh1iMB)

Enjoy :)

Morning

Waking up feeling drained and with a mild headache, Tony Stark half regrets having fallen asleep at all. He prefers an all-nighter to jet-lag anytime, even if he has an important business meeting in the afternoon.

Deciding that more sleep would only make him feel worse, Tony gets up. When, even through the haze of exhaustion, his mind manages to conjure up the image of the coffee shop he saw across the street last night, his worries that jet-lag seriously damaged his cognitive functions ebb away. The promise of almost-immediate caffeine intake and the possibility of avoiding the hotel restaurant – which Tony does most of the times – make it almost easy to drag himself through his morning routine.

As he walks toward the café half an hour later, Tony passes a music shop and sees a handsome young man enter. The sight almost wakes him up properly – something that a cold shower and the crispy winter air couldn’t achieve – but Tony shakes his head and goes for his coffee first. On his way back, however, he can’t resist entering the music shop. The young man’s still there, conversing with the shopkeeper. A regular, it would seem. He wears a suspiciously bespoke-looking deep navy-blue coat. Tony is more intrigued by the minute.

The shopkeeper turns towards him, but Tony waves a hand to signal that he’s good. The conversation picks up and Tony pays careful attention to every world he can hear. Meanwhile he registers the truly remarkable variety of vinyl, music sheets, instruments and accessories the shop offers. When Tony feels sure he’s heard enough to join the conversation, he picks up a random vinyl from the display table and walks over to the counter.

Both men look at him. Tony puts the vinyl down.

“I’ll take this, please.” Then he turns towards Peter. “And, excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing…” Tony thinks he captures the exact moment when his perfect charming smile starts working on Peter. It’s subtle, surprise flashing across his face and an almost imperceptible squint of his eyes, but Tony’s been around for a long time and had both reason and opportunity to learn to read people. “Do you propose, did I get it right? to put hammers? in a piano? It sounds remarkable, would you mind elaborating?”

Tony noticed him glance at the shopkeeper when he praised him, and for a second, they both looked amused, but Peter’s answering smile can’t be described anything but carefully polite.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind, Mr Stark,” he says eventually, inclining his head slightly.

Tony’s surprise at being recognised by the young man must show on his face, because the shopkeeper chuckles.

“We know our music around here, Mr Stark, especially Peter. It’s an honour to have you here, ” he extends his hand and Tony shakes it. The man’s name is Yinsen, which Tony finds vaguely familiar but cannot place at the moment. He’s too excited to find out who the intriguing young man – Peter – is.

Tony remotely notices how good it feels to touch him while they shake hands, but he’s mainly struggling to get back on top the situation, because Peter Parker is definitely smirking now and Tony for the love of God can’t figure why. He comes to his senses when he hears Mr Yinsen speak.

“Will you be needing my assistance with anything else, Mr Stark?”

“No, let me just… how much?”

He pays for the vinyl – it’s one of his own productions, he notices, annoyed – and thanks the man. He’s not confident that his charm has worked exactly the way he intended, so instead of just walking away and expecting Peter to follow him, he actually looks at the man with an enquiring expression.

“After you, Mr Stark,” the young man replies and damn if his voice isn’t honey. “Goodbye, Mr Yinsen. Oh, and I’ll fetch those strings at around 6, if it suits you.”

They exit the shop and Tony inhales deeply. The woody scent of the shop still lingers and as it mixes with the chilly air, Tony gives himself over to the sensation. Then the moment passes, and he realises, they haven’t moved. Peter’s looking at him politely, but his gaze is otherwise unreadable.

“I avoid hotel cafés and restaurants if I can, so I’m open to suggestions,” Tony says.

Peter nods. “I think I know just the place. How do you feel about books, Mr Stark?”

“I’m sensing some serious European vibe,” Tony quips. “Show the way.”

Peter smiles and stars walking.

“So, what is it that you do?” Tony asks as they turn the corner. He can’t help himself, the boy’s idea is the most interesting he’s heard lately, and he needs to find out more about him. About it. Well, really, both if he wants him. To sign a contract, that is.

“I play music,” the young man offers. “I have a band for live gigs, but I mostly write my own music. I also collaborate with other artist.”

“What kind of music?” Tony asks. The boy’s appearance has classical written all over it, but his attitude suggests something unrulier. Something that would explain the cheeky confidence he emanates despite his ivory skinned, wide-eyed British exquisiteness.

“Mainly jazz, but I like experimenting with other things too.”

Jazz. Of course. Tony notices the young man looking at him, waiting for his reaction. So, Peter not only knows his name, but also is familiar with what he does. Sure, jazz isn’t metal, but honestly how could he not be interested?

“Just my luck. I’ll try to keep up though…” Tony smiles. Peter smirks, but doesn’t reply.

After a few steps – his lithe movement really is something to behold – Peter stops and enters a classy looking place. Tony walks in after him and immediately likes the dark panelled room, the deep cherry and blue wallpaper and the stuffed bookshelves. Even though it would never be his first choice, he understands at once why Peter likes it. Tony pushes back the frightening realisation that somehow in barely half an hour, things and places started to feel like this stranger.

The barman greets Peter politely and they take a seat next to the French windows. It feels oddly intimate, not exposed at all, yet Tony still chooses to sit with his back to the street. When their waiter arrives with two menus, Peter turns to him immediately.

“Thank you, would you mind just putting them down, please?”

Tony is speechless. He was mentally preparing to be handed something and wishing with all his might that he could resist flinching and then this, this complete stranger goes out of his way to save him from it. When the waiter walks away, Tony says quietly:

“Thank you.” The ‘How did you know?’ goes unsaid, but Peter seems to read it from his gaze.

“I noticed that Mr Yinsen didn’t hand you the change and since he knows everyone worth knowing better than anyone I know… well I took a guess.”

Tony feels a bit shaken, but Peter’s smile, that is gentle for the first time, reassures him.

“You guessed right,” he says finally. Then to steer the exchange towards safer grounds he adds. “We’ll see how quick our waiter friend is on the uptake.”

Peter hums. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that here.”

Even though the twinkle of Peter’s eyes is far too knowing, Tony lets out a relaxed laugh. They choose their drinks in silence and it gives enough time for Tony to go back from anxious to intrigued. Once they’ve placed their orders, he leans closer to Peter and says:

“Now, Mr Parker, tell me for real this time who you are and what you do.”

Peter chuckles. “While I’m flattered, Mr Stark, I really don’t know what else to say.”

It’s infuriating how he appears to be completely honest. It’s reflects the perfect mixture of modesty and confidence that Tony recognises from true and rare professionals. Tony lets out a frustrated groan but before he can say anything rash, their drinks arrive. Tony is grateful for the interruption, for it gives him a few moments to think. Strategy, he needs strategy. He might as well have stumbled upon some young prodigy, the next genius of jazz and if so, he simply can’t let him slip through his fingers.

“I’ll take it that you are a pianist?” Tony prompts.

“Well, I play the piano, the double-bass, the saxophone, the guitar, some percussion, but I prefer to edit my rhythms and noises on a computer.” He says it all so nonchalantly, that Tony needs to make an effort not to gape at him. Still, he’s a moment too late in responding and something both amused, and apologetic appears in Peter’s expression.

“So, when you said earlier that you write your own music, you also meant that you record it all by yourself as well, didn’t you?”

"Most of the time, yes, but sometimes my band helps."

“Do you have a name?” Tony asks unthinkingly and he realises his blunder as soon as he sees irritation flash through Peter’s face.

“Sorry if it’s not showbiz enough, but you already know it, Mr Stark.” He’s tone is mocking, but Tony feels there is an edge to it.

“It’s not a bad name. How come I haven’t heard it before? Young prodigy and all that.”

“Come now, Mr Stark, do you put such great trust in every no name stranger you meet?" The young man seems amused and there is also something very much like satisfaction in the hint of a smirk he wears. Despite his light tone, however, Tony still feels embarrassed. He almost started explaining himself. Almost…

“Only those whom I catch talking about hacking an instrument,” Tony winks at Peter but then turns more serious. “So what’s your story? Someone must have realised your talent early on.”

“Maybe they have, I don't know. In my family, it’s quite usual for children to learn to play an instrument. At first, I had music teachers, but then I've taught myself. Actually, I tried to avoid being discovered. I've spent my whole life surrounded by music and I've learnt early on to tell if someone still enjoys playing or have burnt out on their way to fame. I didn't want to burn out. Still don't."

Tony huffs, shaking his head in both disbelief and fascination. The boy is becoming more of an enigma by the minute. Rarely has Tony encountered such disinterested honesty and he hasn’t even realised that he missed it.

Peter just smiles at him and sips his tea. All of a sudden, Tony finds himself devoid of all disguises. His skin is tingling with some new and rousing sensation. For a few minutes he feels, rather than sees the young man before him and he’s still busy trying to unravel the effect Peter has on him when the young man speaks again.

"So,” Peter begins tentatively. “Would you like to talk some more about my plans for the grand piano?"

Tony nods eagerly. "Yes, please."

Their conversation lasts for over an hour. They discuss Peter's idea and Tony may not have been so excited since War Machine' s debut album. He can't refrain from making suggestions even though they don't work together. He hopes it’s only a matter a time before they do. Tony's engrossed and he's dying to hear Peter play and to see his ideas come to life.

He might even have forgotten his meeting, the one that was actually scheduled for him there, in London, if it wasn’t for Peter suddenly announcing that he has to leave. He stands up swiftly and before Tony can figure out a way to ask him to meet again, he’s already taken his coat. Before leaving though, Peter steps back to their table, places a note under his saucer then stops in front of Tony with hand outstretched.

Tony is breathless as he stands up – they are so close now – and accepts the handshake. They stand like this for a moment longer, eyes locked, excitement, curiosity and something more, something perplexing flicker between them. From a distant corner of his mind Tony hears the faint voice of his rationality tell him to ask Peter when they can meet again, but he seems to have become temporarily speechless. Peter lets go of his hand and walks to the door. Before stepping out, however, he looks back.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” the feigned innocence of his voice is betrayed by his smirk. “I play tonight at 8 on the Steamer. I wouldn’t mind if you came.”

He leaves and doesn’t look back to see the grin that spreads on Tony’s face despite the twirling mess of panic, relief, anticipation, confusion, desire, impatience and self-consciousness inside him.

[Disclaimer: Peter’s idea is not his, nor mine. I was inspired by the amazing duo called Grandbrothers. Check them out, it’s the perfect music for this fic.]

There's a part2 now (11-02-19)

[tadmean-a]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS. repost, do not reblog!

APHRODITE / LOVE. laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger

APOLLO / SUN.   glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account

ARES / WAR.   armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

ARTEMIS / WILDERNESS.   keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

ATHENA / WISDOM.   discerning gaze, unreadable face, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes

DEMETER / HARVEST. soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

DIONYSUS / MADNESS.   drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

HEPHAESTUS / CRAFTSMANSHIP.   the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

HERA / MARRIAGE.   resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

HERMES / MESSENGER.   devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers

POSEIDON / SEA.   storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

ZEUS / SKY.   thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, expensive watch

tagged by: @glacierfront my love my light thank u !

tagging: anyone who’d like to ! tag me if you do this so i can read your answers :)

[andypartridges]

a while ago i was tagged by the lovely @suckmycoxon to list ten facts about myself and then put my music on shuffle and write the first ten songs that come up so get ready for some boring facts:

1. i get sick on planes so i have to wear those wristbands that make me look like an 80′s workout coach 2. i have over 135 LPs and 30 7″ singles on vinyl accumulated over the past few years,, talk about spending money badly, 3. kinda unrelated but hunters and collectors just came on the tv and the quality of my life has improved drastically (great australian band check them out) 4. when i was in year four i went through a phase where i unironically loved the seekers (another australian group but from the 60′s) and eventually managed to get my dad to take me to one of their reunion concerts. to this day i still highkey love a lot of their songs 5. the last book i read was the girls by emma cline. didn’t like it much tbh 6. i am currently in my pyjamas, which consists of shorts and an oversized shirt which reads “star wars coffee” (in the style of the starbucks logo) and underneath it says “may the froth be with you” 7. i wear braces 8. i also alternate between contact lenses and glasses 9. my favourite brand of guitar is rickenbacker (alas i do not own one) 10. there is footage of me aged around 4 playing a plastic toy keyboard singing (badly) along to follow you follow me by genesis

song shuffle time: trailerpark // blur wind out (with friends) // r.e.m. hole in the holy // echo and the bunnymen the combine // the jam everyone a puzzle lover // 10000 maniacs and i love her // chris stamey damaged li // black flag elevation // television i turned her away // game theory seaside rendezvous // queen

umm i’ll tag @dalliscar @gayusoctgayvius and @sophiarb if you’d like to :)

[vapormaison]

Best of 2019 Vaporwave Release 2/4: Hypnagogia by Dan Mason

When I go to vaporwave and future funk shows throughout Asia, I run into many truly serious vinyl collectors and hardcore audiophiles who I respect immensely. They have been, in many respects, my introduction to and informal educators in the hi-fi world. This is not to throw shade at my Western vapor-vinyl friends, but I’ve always felt that there is a natural predisposition — perhaps imbued by traditions of archival curation and letters spanning five millennia — for Asian collectors to have the most discerning taste, and when it comes to audiophilia, the most exacting specifications.

I don’t know any fellas or fems in Hong Kong, Yokohoma, or Seoul with a substantial vinyl collection who rock a set of expensive, vintage B&Os handed down by their father, but are spinning the records on a Crossley suitcase turntable or an ATP-LX60. There’s a sincere reverence for the physical media there would naturally disincline a hobbyist from actively damaging their own material — a form of wax homicide that is all too common with my pals in Brooklyn. I’m able to put in context, however, whenever one of my countrymen mentions the cost of seeing a doctor, of course. Just staying alive is an expensive enough proposition — which explains why hi-fi enjoyment tends to skew boomer in America. Everyone else has a sword of Damocles hanging above their head.

That all said, when a particular artist is held in reverence by those Asia-oriented pals of mine, I take note and listen. Recently, when I stopped off in my usual haunts in Kanagawa early on this year, there was a name that was on all of their lips: Dan Mason. More specifically, his recent work, Hypnagogia. Admittedly, it was a release that had evaded me at first, corresponding with the peak of the IELTS testing season. And unfortunately, while I was jet-setting from university advisement here to consultancy there, the vinyl drop completely fell out of my grasp.

I spent a few weeks on discogs, but to no avail. Not even the scalpers were selling them anymore. It was this that first clued me into the idea that I might have been absent for something legendary. So shortly before I left Japan, I was able to meet a friend of a friend who was in possession of the record. It required a train ride all the way out to Osaka (in context: it’s not all that bad, Honshu’s roughly the size of Cali) to get a listen to this record.

That day, I was treated to one of the warmest, most enjoyable listening experiences of my life. The woman who welcomed us into her traditionally designed home was truly an audiophile extradonarii. As we crossed a sliding doorway into her listening room, I was met with a pair of beautiful Yamaha NS-6HX speakers in rosewood cases flanking a tower of clean, shining, silver-faced Technics separates —the SE-C01, SU-C01, and the S91 power supply. Perfectly understated, mini — but also powerful — especially for a cozy place like hers. Added for good measure was the M02 tape deck and above those was a classic 1200 turntable. It was a family of DJs, I later learned— and her nine year old daughter had recently taking up spinning on their set upstairs!

As the album begun, I closed my eyes and let the almost overwhelming brightness from the technics/yamaha combo wash over me. And after a few seconds, I got past the uniqueness of the set and had my Eureka moment — I was listening to one of the best albums in the genre that I had ever heard. Not just an iconic album for 2019 — but for the genre as a whole. Here are my thoughts on it here:

Part 1: The Music

Insomnia begins in a very iconic Dan-Masonish style. It was exactly what I expected, in a way, and almost comforting. As the track rises like a loaf of artisan bread through its first minute we’re treated with a procession of synth, chimes, a muted drum kit and powerfully distorted, bass-heavy vocals that manage to both lull and unsettle in equal measures.

Melatonin High definitely hits on an unconscious neural pathway related to my own history with hallucinogenic experimentation. The array of synths, skewed vocals, and soft percussion hits feels very apropos for both the title and its position on the LP. Atmospheric tracks like this always just vibe better early, in my view.

Shade feels the most “poppy” of the album, with a clean but entrancing chord arrangement, prominent vocal track, jungle drum loops and the sparingly used but extremely heavy and robust synth chimes. In a rare moment, I found myself enjoying the vocal-less denouement in the last quarter of the track just as much as the rest of the piece.

Fade exists sonically like a relic of dreams of vapor past — like a throwback to Mason’s earlier, much more distinctly “early vaporwave” sound profile. This is not to say that it doesn’t innovate in its own way, with clever vocal layers and an impressive synth array, but it echoes towards an aura that is more like a return to form, or perhaps more artistically realized — a fade away to a flashback. For these reasons, it’s my favorite on the LP and speaks to thematic thrust of the album in what I think is its strongest sonic affirmation.

Go Away is a robust vapor-hop, future-oriented throwback, speaking first to a very distinct “Bridge war” New York flow roughly concurrent to the rap sound I personally grew up with in Queens, NY. But the genius present here is that it takes this very distinctly late 80s/onset of the 90s East Coast flow and merges it with lyrics that feel distinctly at home in a mid-millennial rapper’s sound-cloud. We’re treated to desires of Robatussin lean (not available until the mid 90s in NYC because of some big pharma legal war I was only peripherally aware of) effortlessly weaved in with moments of millennial malaise. This track should sufficiently hit home with that particular crowd born in that ’88-’93 set.

Visions features an arresting synth array that carries you down the contact high of Go Away brilliantly. The vocals here tend to swing towards the sort of low-end distorted profile of Tyler the Creator’s “therapist” character in Goblin — with was made an ever-more prominent association by virtue of the quasi-existential and psychological overtones that developed in the piece lyrically.

Stop Me manifests itself initially as a sort of clever synth-wave throwback, and then slows its chord progression to a screeching halt fleshing it out more fully as a “true” vapor piece — aided by a perfectly arranged vocal track that comes out as W-I-D-E on a good stereo set. This is definitely the type of track whose mastering for vinyl can either be used as a master class on mix & master or a cautionary tale. Thankfully, it’s certainly the former!

Good Night starts with an echo of ghosts of lo-fi’s past, with compressed percussion hits, and tinny snares, but we are treated soon after with a remarkably hypnotic trail of synths that absolutely dance at the high end, sending the Yamaha’s tweeters into overdrive. it’s also one of those tracks that, by virtue of brilliant progression and arrangement, feels much shorter than its run-time — a key feature for any good penultimate LP track.

Hopefully Forever is a remarkable track to end the album on. To take the listener from the “chill” vibes of Good Night and then hit them with the Ryuchi Sakamoto-esque electronic array (Am I detecting a possible ‘Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence’ inspiration?) and raspy, almost -screamo lyrics imbued with frustration, dread, and longing is a dichotomy worthy of an article all its own. It’s certainly not my particular favorite sound profile, but even I can recognize it for what it truly is: stupendous.

Part 2: The Vinyl Listening Experience

As stated previously, I’m a pretty firm believer in the “audiophile” bones of Hypnagogia, and obviously many audiophiles have literally and figuratively bought in as well. What impressed me about the mix in my limited listening context is that it somewhat antithetical to the tastes of many local audiophiles there, and the general sound profile of Japanese stereos and speaker systems. Technics especially seems to me to take great effort to widen and max-out the low end of the spectrum — which in principle, would work on something like a french house record, but with something like Hypnagogia requires a bit more precision, in my view. The Yamahas did a bit to neutralize this tendency, I think — and my particular listen retained much of the dynamic range that I’ve appreciated in previous releases by Dan.

Nevertheless, I found myself progressively disarmed by the quality of the mix & mastering work. A vinyl experience this clean — and not to overuse this word — but precise in its appreciation and maximization of dynamic range deserves makes this LP deserve serious consideration whenever it comes up on discogs retailing for $300 or something insane like that.

On the physical quality — I have to say I was not expecting a wax release this nice from Business Casual. Perhaps this is my natural bias, but I’ve always associated them as a high-end cassette label. Masters of that craft, no doubt. But I think this excellent press and physical product (along with sales, I imagine!) sends a pretty clear message to the folks at Business Casual that they should be getting into the vinyl game as aggressively as they do cassettes.

[traciedemars]

Water, and your Home...    Home Buyer Classes: Saturday, October 21st, from 11am - 2pm (ish)  11324 NE 51st Circle, Vancouver WA (corner of SR500 & Gher Road/112th Ave) Monday, October 23rd, from 5pm-8pm (ish)  Marshall Community Center, conference room 1009 E. McLoughlin Blvd, Vancouver WA (kitty corner from Clark College) Saturday, November 4th, from 9am-12pm (ish) Marshall Community Center, conference room 1009 E. McLoughlin Blvd, Vancouver WA (kitty corner from Clark College) Thursday, November 9th, from 5pm-8pm (ish) Marshall Community Center, conference room 1009 E. McLoughlin Blvd, Vancouver WA (kitty corner from Clark College) If these class dates and/or times don't work for you, please let us know.  We understand that you have lives, and families, and work.  We will work something out that works better with your schedule.  Just let us know.... ....we also have home seller classes available too...link on left on website Remember...with reservation...we will throw in lunch, or dinner!  :-D~~~~~~~~~Another quick reminder that we have our Winter Client Appreciation coming up!  Chris Berg and I are honored to invite you to Star Wars: The LAST JEDI on Saturday, 12/16 from 3:30pm-6:30pm. Please let either me (traciedemars@aol.com) or Chris Berg (cberg@pcmloan.com), know that you would like to attend and how many adults/kids will be in your party.  We will send you the link to get your tickets, and make sure you are on the 'list'.  :-D   They are first come, first served...and no assigned seating.  Because Disney is anticipating a huge showing for this they upped some things on us, so this is the only movie event we will be hosting this winter.  In the spring we are anticipating hosting The new INCREDIBLES movie (FINALLY!!!), and hopefully the Han Solo movie as well.  Chris and I want you to know that we appreciate you!  We appreciate your trust, your friendship, and your referrals! Thank YOU so much for trusting us with your Home Adventure....whether you are Buying, Selling, or Refinancing...  we appreciate you.  So...come watch a movie with us!!  :-D .....and here comes the rain....  Actually, I may be in the minority here, but I love the rain.  Deep down I'm really a homebody.  When it's nice out we feel guilty if we are not out 'enjoying' it.  Nice weather is for doing 'stuff'....for working in the yard, for hiking, for going places, for exploring....for doing everything except what homebodies really love doing.  Homebodies....we love doing things like: snuggling on the couch, or blanket burrito ourselves next to a nice, cozy fire (inside), or wearing fuzzy socks & cozy pjs...maybe we're reading, or crocheting, or binging on Netflix...homebodies like to hole up inside our homes and bunker down...and the best part about fall & winter is that we don't have to feel guilty for doing so!  Yay!!!  I LOVE this time of year... October through December is my absolute favorite.  In fact I think we need to start talking Christmas soon...  Bring on the 'bad' weather because it's all good to me!!  LOL We are supposed to get a LOT of rain though this weekend so be prepared.  :-) This week I do want to talk a bit about rain, and water in our area because it is something we deal with here.  Every area has their 'things', but for us...it is water.  I had something else typed up regarding contractors and home repairs & upgrades that I was going to send out, but I think I will wait on that one just a bit.  The fall and winter months are excellent for rain, snow (in the mountains), for holidays, for snuggling on the couch (see a trend here?), and for a lot of things, but they're also good for home buyers and sellers.  We do live in an area with a considerable amount of rain, so doing a home inspection during the time of year when we do see the most moisture is actually a good thing for buyers (and home owners) so you can actually 'see' how the home does in time of rain.   During a home inspection, one of the things an inspector does is crawl in the crawlspace (better him than me!).  When the weather is wet, s/he is going to see things that they might not see during the dry weather.  Many areas where we live have a high water table so water in the crawlspace really isn't that uncommon, but it can be an issue.  Is it small amounts...soggy ground....under the visquean? Is it draining under the home from dirt at ground level ventilation areas that will need some correction?   Is there water actually sitting in the crawlspace that needs to properly drained to the low point drain under the home?  Does it need a sump pump put in to properly dispose of? These are all pretty common things we see during a home inspection and most of it is pretty quick and easy to remedy.  I was helping some clients sell their home about this time last year and during the home inspection their buyers inspector noted water in the crawlspace.  This particular home backed to a swampy area, and while my clients swore they had never had water under there before, they did this year.  We had a drainage expert come in to put in proper drains and a sump pump under the home to prevent it happening again.  This is always the worse case scenario...but not unexpected.  It's funny....I lived in Woodland for 20 years with a totally dry crawlspace even though my neighbor behind me had a sump pump, and the neighbor next to me had some extra drainage in their crawlspace.  This shows that even though one home might be dry...their neighbors might not be.  We recently moved to a hill in the Battle Ground area and guess what?  Yep.... I have a moist crawlspace! LOL  Ok....I'm laughing because 1) I felt someone cringe when they read 'moist' (even though I love that word), but 2) because Woodland, a flood zone, we had a totally dry crawlspace, and we live on a hill now, not in a flood zone, with a moist crawlspace!  It cracks me up...  It's just a little ground moisture so nothing sitting on top of the visquean (the plastic barrier under your home).  There isn't really anything we can do about this except keep an eye on it to see if we need additional drainage put under our home at some point.  Rain can also do a number on your siding...  if you have vinyl siding make sure that the pieces are all snug and overlap, you don't want water to get behind that.  Look for holes or penetration in your siding and seal those up.  If you have T-111, Wood, Wood composite, Shingle, or LP (a LOT of homes have these types of siding)...water is not your friend.  Look for areas of swelling where water may be getting soaked up.  This will occur on lower leading edges like the bottom of the siding around your foundation, or where the top gable /\ meets the side.  This is actually a pretty easy fix and is quite common.  One of the things you can do to make sure that water doesn't affect your siding is to keep it sealed with paint.  Siding like this really does need a good coat of paint every 5 years, but on those lower leading edges, keep them sealed with primer and paint.  If you have fiber cement, or hardiplank siding then you're still not in the clear.  This is a great siding, but again...keep an eye out for anywhere that water can leak in, and yes, you still need to paint this type of siding for protection too.  Your home inspector will be walking around and checking the siding out, along with other things.  Most inspectors start outside the home, looking at most of the things that I am going to be writing about here.... Gutters....let's keep those gutters cleaned out.  There are quite a bit of falling leaves and tree needles right now that can, and will get in there.  Those first good rains are going to show you which gutters need cleaned out.  As I type this I am noticing that the gutter end by my daughters rooms is overflowing.  I just texted my husband that it is going to need cleaned out.  Did you know that if your gutters get plugged and are overflowing it can do damage to the roof overhang wood...it can cause wood rot to the wood right there, it can also get plugged at the downspout and overflow into your crawlspace.  Yep, sometimes the water in the crawlspace doesn't come from the ground at all, but from a plugged downspout. Do you have skylights?  My house has two small ones.  This is a good time to make sure that the flashing around those is sealed tight... water leaking around skylights won't be noticeable for quite some time....and after it has done a bunch of damage to the roof plywood around those lights, and to the insulation in the attic, before you even see it in your ceiling or the ceiling openings for those skylights.  What about the roof?  When it is raining is an excellent time for the inspector to be looking inside your atticspace for any signs of moisture coming through the roof.  He will see signs of moisture on the roof plywood decking that might need addressed by a licensed roofer.  Don't forget that any wet insulation will be needing replaced too.  Another thing the inspector will be looking at is to make sure that the ventilation in the attic is open, and not blocked.  Is there moss on the roof?  This is pretty common to happen here....I mean, we have moss EVERYWHERE, but you don't want to see it on a roof.  There's a powder that can be sprinkled on the roof to help with that, a zinc strip that can be placed on the roof to help prevent the growth of moss, but one thing we don't  want is moss.  If, and when, you own your home, do NOT pressure wash your roof!  Oh my goodness...  don't pressure wash moss off your roof!   Use the zinc strip, or the powder, and then get up there with a stiff broom and brush off the dead moss if need be.  Pressure washing your roof actually shortens the life span of your roof by washing off the granules that protect it from the elements....and for heavens sakes, do NOT use TIDE on your roof!!  Tide gets oils, and dirts out of your clothes, right?  What do you think your roof is made of???  I still see, and hear, about people using laundry detergent on their roof, and it just slays me.... How about stairs or decking?  During the rain is a good time to see how slick those might be....I don't know about you, but I can't even count how many times I've slipped on decking in the rain while out showing homes. I know that grace isn't my strong suit, but they can be slick.  Other things that can be noted about a home during the fall/winter months...  Are there any areas of water pooling around the home?  How does the home hold heat?  Wood framing around windows are caulked and sealed, or is there wood rot?  Does the nearby water run off run towards the home, or towards the street?  We live in the land of liquid sunshine, and there is no reason to fear it.... let's embrace it!  Our homes are built to protect and shield us...from the world, and from the elements.  We need to help it do it's job by taking care of it.  Most items that come up during a home inspection are pretty simple repairs, and there aren't too many that are very expensive, but over my years of helping people buy and sell homes I have noticed that it gets more expensive to fix the longer you wait to do it.  Little things can, and do, often tsunami into BIG things.  As a home owner, it isn't a bad thing to occasionally have a home inspected.  Call your inspector (or call me...I have some numbers), and ask them to come out to look at your home.  You don't have to be buying, or selling, a home to have it inspected.  Some times it is nice to have a fresh pair of eyes come through to catch those 'little' things before they become 'big' things.  Some other things that are good to do to a home during this time of year:  change out batteries in your smoke detector, caulk around windows (inside & out), put some Moss B Gone (or similar product) on your roof to prevent moss growth, clean out those gutters, clean & vacuum out your wall heaters, have your furnace serviced, have your chimney swept, make sure you have a chimney cap on your fireplace chimney, check the screens on all your crawlspace vents so that you don't get animals underneath your home (please make sure you don't already have animals underneath there first!) check the screens on all your house vents so that you don't have birds getting in there during the spring (unless you want to be a birdies godmother/father?), check your atticspace for signs of wetness & to make sure all your vents are properly venting outside, check your crawlspace for water either ground or leaks (a good idea is to run all your water in your home first...like the sinks, tubs, and flush the toilets) & to make sure that your under the home insulation isn't torn down because of animals, go around your home and pull back any dirt or bark dust that is sitting up against your siding or your crawlspace vents..... prepare your home for the upcoming fall/winter.  One thing about crawlspace vents...  a lot of times I will see homes with those Styrofoam blocks in the vents... this is not necessarily a good thing.  If we have times of extreme, prolonged cold then those blocks can be helpful (think December 2008), but our area is pretty temperate and they're really not needed...and especially not year around.  My favorite home inspector likes to tell people that, "a home is a living, breathing organism.  Just like you and me, it needs to breathe."  The vents around your home allow it to 'breathe'.  Because we do get so much moisture around here, allowing your home to 'breathe' can help prevent the dreaded 'M' word.....no, not Moist.....MOLD.  Mold occurs mainly in moist, stagnant, humid areas.  If you are going to use the Styrofoam blocks then remember to, 'install in fall, remove in spring'. Don't fear the weather, and the time of year, when buying a home... every year, the best time of year to be a buyer is always going to be October-February...before the spring crush. As always, I hope this helps!  Please feel free to call, email, text, or facebook with any questions.  I think I covered everything...but I'm sure there are things I forgot.  I've been down with that sickness all week so I've been dating Nyquil & Dayquil.  I think I'm on the road to feeling better though...or at least I hope I am!  What can I do to help you today??? Information is power, and I hope that I am able to help you.  Good luck, and as always...May the odds be ever in your favor out there....  AND If you are looking for a real estate agent, I would love to be able to help you.  As always....this is just a quick overview.... again...and I can't say this enough...please remember that your agent is NOT a salesperson, and should not be acting like one.  Real Estate is not really about houses, it is about relationships.  Your agent, and your lender work for YOU.  You drive the bus...we are merely GPS to help you get to your goals.  Like the classes, this weekly blog email is to help you with your home adventure.  The goal is to be informative and non-promotional.  :-)  We are, however, hoping you will call and want us to help with your adventure.  If you have any questions about this, or something you have heard...or if you would like me to help you with your home adventure, please call, email, text, or facebook me anytime.  I am, as always, happy to help! Thank you again for your business and your referrals!!  ...and thank you for referring these classes to your friends, family, and co-workers.  ..disclaimer...if you have already purchased a home, or would no longer like to receive these emails, please let me know and I will be happy to remove you from any further mailings... Upcoming Topics: Flash vs Bones...what should a buyer be looking for in homes? Last Week: Home Buying Down Payment information Have a great day, and I will talk to you soon,  ;-D   Tracie DeMars Real Estate broker Re/Max - Van Mall   360/ 903-3504 cell   360/ 882-3600 fax   www.traciedemars.com   traciedemars@aol.com Interested in free and non promotional home education classes? Go to www.freehomebuyerclasses.com for local upcoming home buyer and home SELLER classes, or facebook: Tracie DeMars Real Estate for my home buyer education blog. "Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be." - Shel Silverstein, American poet, cartoonist and composer, (1930 -1999).

[checkmarch79-blog]

Morning Links: Uber scoots into Hollywood, anachronistic bikes, and Nov. closure of San Gabriel River path

So this happened yesterday.

Uber has apparently made the long migration east from their new Santa Monica base to the wilds of Hollywood.

Or maybe someone just took a long ride and left one here on the sidewalk near my home.

The tag on the e-scooter, which you can read by clicking the photo below, promises up to five free one-half hour rides per day through October 28th using the Uber app.

Hopefully, if the Uber scooters really have finally made their long-promised entry into the LA scooter wars, that means Uber’s popular JUMP ebike bikeshare will soon follow.

………

Last Friday, we mentioned the frozen antique bicycle which had unexpectedly emerged from the snowy slopes of the Italian Alps. Not far from where Ötzi, the 5,000-year old frozen caveman, had emerged from his own glacial grave in 1991.

Leading to the obvious and inescapable conclusion that it might be his bike.

If obvious and inescapable can be read to mean ludicrous and anachronistic.

Yet Marvin Davis has forwarded proof, of a sort, that it may be possible after all.

Which leads us to today’s discovery of what happens when you abbreviate the year in a multi-day Google Search.

Only to discover the odd fact that not one story about bicycles was published online on Tuesday or Wednesday’s date in 18 AD.

Go figure.

………

Long Beach Mobility & Healthy Living Programs Officer Michelle Mowery sends word of yet another one-day closure of the San Gabriel River Bike Path next month.

The path will be closed from 8 am to 5 pm on Wednesday, November 14th between 2nd Street and 7th Street (California State Highway 22) for additional work by the LA Department of Public Works.

So mark your calendar, and plan on another route that day.

………

No bias here.

An indignorant writer for a Kiwi website complains about the “massive amounts of taxpayer and ratepayer money” to give supposedly freeloading bike riders “an advantage over motorists who have to pay their own way in life.”

Don’t get me wrong, recreational cycling on purpose-built cycleways, especially out in the country, is an admirable pursuit, but cycling is not a practical means of transport, and the amount of other people’s money thrown at cycling infrastructure is totally disproportionate to the number of cyclists using it.

If the cost of cycleways and special cycle lanes was reflected in a tax on new bicycles each one would cost its purchaser at least $50,000.

Never mind that the total cost of a painted bike lane runs around $50,000 a mile in the US. So evidently, he’s assuming that every bike lane will be used by just one person per mile.

Period.

He goes on to complain about a planned walkway over the Aukland harbor, insisting it will become a death trap for people on foot as spandex-clad bike riders hit speeds of 55 mph on the downhill slope.

Because that’s just what we all do.

………

Local

Santa Monica Mountains Cyclery shares a photo of a bike thief who made off with a bike from a Norwalk shop.

State

San Francisco bike riders will be wearing wigs and sensible heels this weekend to protest Prop 6. And those are just the men, including State Sen. Scott Wiener.

Modesto is planning a new road diet to calm traffic on one of the city’s most dangerous streets; previous road diets have actually improved traffic flow for drivers. Which is probably why Modesto NIMBYs and traffic safety deniers aren’t rising up in revolt, unlike the privileged drivers in a certain SoCal city we could name.

National

Bicycling offers tips on how to dress for cold winter weather, including LA’s frigid 60° temps. And explains how riding a bike can give you a healthier gut.

Meanwhile, the great bike helmet debate goes on, as a writer for Bicycling says it’s okay to not wear a helmet, adding they can help protect against some injuries, but safer streets and drivers help more.

Good idea. A Colorado Springs CO advocacy group is offering classes for people who want to learn how to drive safely around bike riders.

An Estes Park writer suggests bicycling as a practical solution to the Colorado tourist town’s chronic traffic and parking problems.

Anyone can ride across the country. A Texas man is riding in a heart shape through 13 states to show his love for the US, and see for himself how divided the country is.

A Louisville KY woman explains how mansplainers nearly made her quit bicycling, until she gave up on the trails and started riding in the local cemetery. Seriously, when it comes to advice, be a well, not a fountain; if people want advice, they’ll usually ask for it. Although someone should tell her that calling out “on your left” is a courtesy to help avoid confusion and crashes, even if some riders treat it like more of a command. 

Still more from Bicycling, as they explain how a sub-seven-mile Memphis bike lane helped transform the city, which preceded Los Angeles as a two-time loser as America’s worst city for bicycling. So maybe there’s hope for us yet.

A Pittsburgh website profiles a paraplegic rockstar, author and record-setting handcyclist.

At a time when it seems like no one is behind the wheel in Washington, it could soon be literally true.

DC will try slow zones and banning right turns at some red lights to improve safety, as the mayor attempts to reset the city’s Vision Zero; traffic deaths have already exceeded the total for all of last year.

International

An automotive website considers when carmakers make bikes. I’ll take the Pashley Morgan, thank you.

Seriously, don’t be that guy. A bike raging London bicyclist caused nearly $2,000 in damage by slamming his bike onto the hood of a chauffeured limo. No matter what a driver might have done, violence is never the answer, tempting though it may be.

No bias here, either. A British radio host takes London’s DOT-equivalent to task for not implementing a harebrained plan to let drivers use one of the city’s cycle superhighways at non-peak hours. It should come as no surprise that his last name is Ferrari.

An English town saw a 200% increase in bicycling after they banned cars from the city center.

The war on cars may be a myth, but but the war on bikes goes on. An Irish farmer was convicted of pushing two men off their bikes, complaining they were passing too close to where he was walking.

NPR considers how a disastrous change in service providers nearly killed the famed Paris Vélib’ bikeshare.

A new Danish study shows bicycling in your 50s and 60s can cut your risk of early death by 23%. Then again, any death before you’re ready is early.

Switch to biking, walking or taking transit in Bologna, Italy and the city will buy you a beer. Which is why this site may soon be called BikinginBologna.

An advocacy group in Malta is urging employers to fight traffic by buying bicycles for their workers — then taking it out of their salaries.

I want to be like him when I grow up. A 71-year old Indian man is on his seventh ride around the world.

An Israeli professional soccer player has been indicted for the drunken hit-and-run that killed an ebike rider.

An Aussie woman is furious that she got stuck behind a group of bicyclists for awhile, complaining that they didn’t move over to let her pass. Never mind that the lane was clearly to narrow to safely share.

A Kiwi writer describes a rainy bike commute to work, which she started doing when her car’s radiator blew up six years ago. And says if someone offered her a new car today, she wouldn’t take it.

He gets it. A New Zealand writer says don’t panic, they’re only scooters.

Brisbane, Australia bike advocates call for a connected bikeway grid in the central business district after bike riders identify a mere 2,850 traffic safety problem areas.

Heartbreaking story from Thailand, where a Philippine randonneur was killed by a hit-and-run driver who ran a red light, just 31 miles from the end of a 1,250-mile race.

A short German-made film examines how Beijing is turning back to bicycles in an attempt to ease traffic and smog in the city of 21 million.

Competitive Cycling

Former US Postal team director Johan Bruyneel, who helped Lance win — and lose — a record-setting seven Tour de France titles, has received a well-deserved lifetime ban from cycling.

America’s other ex-Tour de France winner and current CBD peddler says cycling’s post-doping era ain’t so clean, either.

Cycling Tips says the pro cycling calendar is bloated and anti-climactic.

Good news, as 21-year old Californian former pro cyclist Adrien Costa is back on his bike, just three months after losing a leg in a Mono County climbing accident.

Finally…

How to not mispronounce common bike brands. Just what every bicyclist needs — $200 cherry red vinyl bike shorts with a bejeweled buckle.

And proof not all distracted drivers are drivers. Even if it was probably staged.

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Source: http://bikinginla.com/2018/10/25/morning-links-uber-scoots-into-hollywood-anachronistic-bikes-and-nov-closure-of-san-gabriel-river-path/

[melly-xox]

Band Asks (AKA, I hate you Danielle. You suck.)

fall out boy - what band was the first you started listening to that you still listen to now? // Ironically, I’m pretty sure it was actually Fall Out Boy. 

my chemical romance - how often do you have music on? // 24/7/365 basically

panic! at the disco - how many cd’s do you own? // Physical - 106 / Digital - 43 (Not counting duplicates with digital/physical copies)

green day - do you own any vinyls? if so, how many? // Technically I have one, it’s the one Halsey released in the Badlands box set.

waterparks - what is your favourite band? // Currently, it’s tied between All Time Low, Set It Off, Panic! At the Disco, and The Brobecks.

the brobecks - what is your favourite song from any band? // Currently, it’s Northern Downpour by Panic! At the Disco

the young veins - who is your favourite band member? // Alex Gaskarth is still my babe. Always.

the 1975 - have you seen any bands live? if so, which ones? // So many bands. Most of them aren’t around anymore. But of the ones that are still together, I’ve seen All Time Low, Pierce The Veil, A Day To Remember, Simple Plan, Set It Off, Panic!, Misterwives, and Flor, just to name a handful of the recent-ish ones.

infinity on high - what is your most recent obsession for a band? // Panic! and The Brobecks. Also, All Time Low.

Continued under the cut cause shit got long af

folie a deux - favourite lyric/s? // 

“One more time as if we planned it | We just want to do some damage” -Nice2KnoU, All Time Low

“Grit your teeth, pull your hair, | Paint the walls black and scream, "Fuck the world | 'Cause it's my life, I'm gonna take it back," | And never for a second blame yourself.” - Missing You, All Time Low

“Me? I'm going to play the imbecile, who, | Who keeps choosing you, | Even though you're bi-polar and you're selfish: I hate you! Ahhh!” - Better Than Me, The Brobecks

“We will teach you | How to make | Boys next door | Out of assholes” - Young Volcanoes, Fall Out Boy

“I guess I never thought | Anything good could come from the dead and gone” - Get Behind This, Flor

“If you got the blood then you got the heart to | Give yourself a chance” - Never Lose Your Flames, Issues

“Smirking between dignified sips of his dignified peach and lime daiquiri” - But It’s Better If You Do, Panic! At the Disco

“Picture girls we want so badly | Isn't she a dream come true!?” - All The Boys, Panic! At the Disco

“I know the world's a broken bone | But melt your headaches, call it home” - Northern Downpour, Panic! At the Disco

“I don’t love you I'm just passing the time | You could love me if I knew how to lie” She Had The World, Panic! At the Disco

“Break involuntary ties | A secret so the spies | Could never find us out” - Casual Affair, Panic

“But girls love girls and boys | And love is not a choice” Girls/Girls/Boys, Panic

“See we don't really care who you are | We've kinda got this | Non-exclusive policy on determining | Exactly who we open up to | And let into our families | Then who becomes a part of our united mass of harmony | Now that's kinda become | The thesis to this song | Through suffering | Acceptance | Grief | And strife | There's no way that your puzzle piece | Fits into our puzzle wrong | Cause everyone is welcome | On this stage that we call life | And we don't really care who you are | Everyone is capable of looking up | And wishing on a star | So catch it so contagious | This day dreamers disease | And hope can be your sword | Slaying darkness with belief | So bring me all the worst | Of your broken bruised insane | Cause that's the thing with music | When it hits you fill no pain | No matter what you did | I promise we forgave it | When all that's left is your voice | You got no choice but to raise it | All you broken hearts | All you dejected dreams | Just let yourself be free | Because even broken wings | Can fly away” Sanctuary, Paradise Fears

“You say that there’s no happy endings | But in this story, the good guy gets the girl.” Pages & Paragraphs, Set It Off

“Please believe you'll be a dream catcher” Dreamcatcher, Set It Off

“You can't break me” Freak Show, Set It Off

“Someday you may find that picture perfect guy | And I'll chase my words with poison” The Haunting, Set It Off

“Who am I kidding? | Now, let's not get overzealous here | You've always been a huge piece of shit | If I could kill you I would | But it's frowned upon in all fifty states | Having said that, burn in hell” Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing, Set It Off

“I know, I know who you really are | You know, you know how to break my heart | But I need you to be | My ancient history” Ancient History, Set It Off

“Gotta strike like lightning, and shine like we’re not afraid.” Life Afraid, Set It Off

“There’s no need to kill the lights, it’s obvious you’re blind,” Want, Set It Off

“I’ll be damned if I sing another swan song, | No more shooting for the stars when yours burned out.” Tug Of War, Set It Off

“You are way more than a headache at this point. Do us all a favor, and go fuck yourself.” Hypnotized, Set It Off

from under the cork tree - biggest crush on a band member? // Right now, Jack and Alex as well as Dallon and Brendon. 😍

take this to your grave - any crushes on band members’ wives? // Yes! Lisa Gaskarth, Breezy Weekes, and Sarah Urie are just 😍

save rock and roll - least favourite album from your favourite band? // Gonna make a list because yolo;

All Time Low - Party Scene. 

Panic!: Pretty. Odd. (I have a love/hate relationship with this album. Ugh.)

Set It Off: Calm Before The Storm (Honestly, Pages and Paragraphs is the only song off that EP I like tbh.)

Fall Out Boy: Folie a Deux (Again, love/hate relationship)

american beauty/american psycho - favourite album art? // I love the artwork for Last Young Renegade.

a fever you can’t sweat out - best lead singer? // Don’t make me choose between Brendon, Alex, and Cody. WTF

pretty. odd. - best bassist? // Dallon Weekes. Hands down, no contest.

vices & virtues - best guitarist? // Jack Barakat (Also Ryan Ross lowkey.)

too weird to live, too rare to die - best drummer? // Maxx. 

death of a bachelor - least favourite band member? // Oh. I um... Well... Lowkey I have a love/hate relationship with Pete Wentz. He’s ruined my life.

i brought you my bullets - favourite band meme? // 

three cheers for sweet revenge - least favourite song from any band? // Sticks, Stones, and Techno; like, why was that even a thing @ Alex?!

the black parade - saddest song? // Northern Downpour makes me hella sad because, well Brendon was the sun to Ryan’s moon... Or Lullabies by All Time Low because yeah...

danger days - favourite album aesthetic? // I’m living for All Time Low’s Last Young Renegade aesthetic right now