#paul in his fur coat

[kinsfaun]

[silversword7000]

I love this clip so much it’s so amazing it gives me life🥰🥰🥰🥰❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️💖💖💖💖✨✨✨✨

[tavolgisvist]

On the train ride back to New York, while the camera team from Granada shoots film for their documentary, Ringo begins to slither around and under seats like an ape.

Then John and George trade coats for no reason.

video from reflectismo

Next, Ringo, with a dozen cameras around his neck pushes through the crowd, shouting, ‘Excuse me! Life magazine! Exclusive! I am a camera!’

Then George climbs up into the baggage rack above the seat and plays dead.

gif by deadpoets

Then Ringo scuttles through the car wearing a blond fur coat and a lady’s white fur hat.

Then George, wearing the porter’s hat and white coat, comes in with a tray of empty coke tins.

At the other end of the car Paul is flamboyantly taking pictures out of the window and shouting, ‘God, how artistic! Railway lines!’

Photo by Paul

The camera keeps filming; Life, Newsweek, and the Saturday Evening Post keep taking notes, and John occasionally looks up and mutters, ‘Funny, very funny.’

(Love Me Do: The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun)

[tac-the-unseen]

The Lost Boys x Werewolf Reader

•They could all smell you before you were even within sight of each other.

•They have mixed feelings about having a big ol’ dog around

•On one hand, You are a biological rival. Both vampires and werewolves are extremely territorial, and can almost never overlap with each other.

•On the other hand, Big ol’ fluffy dog :)

•Paul is 10,000% the type of guy to drop down on off four to play with you well in wolf form

•while out on a midnight stroll in the woods they casually look at you and say ‘Do the thing.’ which means ‘howl as loud as you possibly can’

•They will absolutely howl with you!

•You lay in the sun for a while then go back to the shade so they can still feel the sun (and you get pets)

•When you were first starting the relationship with David, Dwayne, Paul, and Marko, You found a big open field and ran as fast and hard as you could in circles until you physically couldn't take it anymore. You would collapsed onto the grass and sleep for the rest of the day, just so by the time you woke up you can spend the entire night fully awake with them

•Werewolves can get very sore after transformation ( especially nearing/during a full moon) so they keep a small tube of Vicks in their pockets

•They also have on more than one occasion used their cold hands to soothe your aching muscles

•When the full moon starts to approach you get extremely hungry, more reckless, senses get heightened, and your need to hunt gets stronger.

•If you let them, the boys would love to go hunting with you. It doesn't have to be humans, anything you feel you need to hunt down, they're willing to help!

•They're your pack and you're their coven

•While in your wolf form you accidentally entered the boardwalk not realizing you were in your wolf form. When they looked at you like you had 5 heads you remembered what you look like. They pretended you were their dog so no one was suspicious

•While Werewolf strength is nothing like Vampire strength, it's not something they want to mess with. They've seen you act like a real wild animal and it terrified them.

•Paul refused to come down from the ceiling for a few hours.

•Marko loves to paint and draw you in your wolf form

•Marko has crocheted you a doggie sweater (You assured them you had enough fur to keep you warm, He made a sweater anyway)

•Paul loves cuddling you. You guys have a joke going, Paul is a lizard and you are his heat lamp.

•Dwayne likes to write down Werewolf facts, instincts, Rituals, and helpful tips. It’s how he shows he's paying attention and loves you.

•David once asked you if he could brush out your fur and now he's the one that grooms you. He's even gone the extra mile to thoroughly get the clumps of dead fur out of your thick coat.

•David likes putting his jacket on you so it smells like you. (This doesn't just apply to ‘werewolf’ you. This is just a regular headcanon of mine lmao)

•They given you nicknames like Wolfie, Howler, Bitch, Timber, and wildflower

•But those are just counters to all the vampire related nicknames you call them

•At one point you got really upset and Paul said “So it's one of those dog-days?” If you weren't so pissed you would have laughed. You walked out into the sun instead.

•They All love your fluffy ears!

[exhausted-think-bucket]

I am obsessed with Paul during the rooftop concert ('obsessed with Paul' should go on my gravestone).

He's so elegant (that suit is doing wonders for his physique). The way he plays with his whole body, all swaying hips, tapered waist, tapping foot, luscious dark hair blowing in the wind, trademark bass-face in full effect, and I haven't even mentioned the vocals, which are insane.

The others are also cutting fine figures with their fur coats and red rain jacket, but in terms of performing they're more...subdued? I mean, they look like they're having fun, but Paul is out there playing like his life is depending on it, which... I bet he felt like it did.

[prettypinkporkchop]

Random Paul type deal

Warnings: sexual a bit not much, language, I believe that's it

Fem reader!

Your feet crunch down on the leaves. The forest floor is making you calm down. Your boyfriend's voice is ringing through your ears.

"I'll never love you like I used to. It's your fault I've cheated."

You moving in with Tyler was a big mistake. All you have done was love him. You changed your whole life for him! You quit your old job to move all the way to Forks with him. Now, you work a job you don't even like. You still aren't so sure why he has been like this since the move.

The green is surrounding you. It's beautiful, and you begin to consider camping out here. You shake your head at the thought. A motel seems safer. You're not sure who comes out here at night. You begin to leave the forest, retracing your steps.

Something big falls behind you, making you turn. It's a woman. She has dark skin and piercing red eyes. Your heart is pounding. She laughs as a devilish grin appears. You are frozen in fear. Before you can even blink, she's in front of your face. You feel the wind hit you from her impossibly fast movement. Her beauty is there, but you can't help but focus on the red eyes that are screaming at you, telling you to run.

Her cold fingers reach to touch your face. "Wrong time to wander off." She mumbles. All of a sudden, she jumps back and looks to her left. She snarls and runs away. Now, you're confused and even more scared. Something scarier than her is chasing her.

Two gigantic wolves hit your view. Black and brown fur and load roaring fill up your senses. You turn your feet and run. As your feet move, you see a dark silver coated wolf standing a few feet away.

You stop dead in your tracks, praying this beast doesn't kill you. The wolf steps closer to you, very slowly. You can't run. This thing is way faster than you. Your heart is about to drop dead from fear. You see its eyes, and it stops moving. He whimpers and then runs away.

You finally get to your car and jump in. You start crying and cover your face. Your phone in the passenger seat starts blowing up. You know it's Tyler. This makes you cry even harder. You hear a tap at your window. You scream and look up. You're faced with a young man. He's tan, shirtless, and has a tattoo on his arm. He seems concerned. You shake your head and roll down the window. "Can I help you?" You ask and wipe your eyes. "I think you need help, ma'am. I can help you. What's wrong?" He asks. "Everything." You sigh. "Hey, move over. Let me drive you back home." He says. "I don't know you." You reply dryly. "No, you don't. I don't know you either. But, you're upset, and I'm concerned. You're in the middle of La Push. I've never seen you around." He puts his hands above your window and leans on it, looking down at you. "You're not gonna kill me, are you?" You ask. "Nope. Not capable of it." He seems honest to you. "You're buff. I believe you can snap me in half." You giggle. He laughs and then opens your door. "No ma'am. I won't." He helps you out. You notice how tall he is. You look up at him. Oh, he's gorgeous. His eyes won't leave yours. You feel safe. You feel a connection. "What's your name?" He asks. You see his eyes moving around your face. "Y/n." You whisper. You observe his face, too. You can't help but be starstruck. He notices and then smiles, stepping back a bit. "Paul. Paul Lahote." He walks over and opens the passenger door. You get inside, and he gets in the drivers side. "Tell me what's going on?" He asks. You groan and lean your head back. "Where do I even begin?" Your phone starts ringing. You grab your phone and pick it up. "What?"

"Where are you?"

"Mmm, not your business. I'm packing my stuff." You hang up. Paul leans back in the seat and grips the steering wheel. "I see." He sighs. "Tyler. I moved in with him. Big mistake." You look out the window. "Would you believe me if I told you I saw something?" You ask quietly. "Yes." He replies. You face him again, his eyes right on you. "I saw a girl with red eyes and then huge wolves. I don't know. I think I'm going crazy." You laugh and run your hand through your hair. He shakes his head. "No, you're not crazy. I believe you. Where do you need to go?" He asks, reversing your car. "Take me to my place. I'm thankful you're with me. Be my gaurd dog?" You look at him. He smirks and keeps his eyes on the road. "Whatever you need."

After guiding him along, you sit in the bedroom, gathering all of your clothes. Paul came in with you, just in case. Tyler ended up not even being home. Paul helped you grab everything you need. You set the house key down on the table and lock the door behind you.

Paul starts driving, and the silence is killing you. "Do you work, y/n?" He breaks the quiet. "Yes. At the moment, I'm working at a diner and the library. I make just enough to pay my phone bill and the car." He nods his head. "Where do you want to go tonight?" He asks. "A motel." You sigh. "Okay, I'll pay." He says. You look at him like he's crazy. "Bruh! No!" You squeal. He laughs loudly and then stops at a red light. "You're going to see what it's like to be taken care of." His words made you jump in your seat and turn to him. "We just met! What are you talking about?" You laugh. "Hey, you have nobody and moved to Forks. You're on your own. I have friends and family. Trust me. You won't be alone anymore."

2 weeks later:

You've been super close with Paul and have been hanging around his family. Well, friends, but they're his family. Embry loves when you come along with Paul because you're the only person who will play video games with him. Quil does, but Quil has been busy lately.

Paul let you move in with him. You feel guilty and try so hard to give him money for it. He refuses to take anything from you. You are trying to find a place around him to live, but Paul never seems to want to talk about houses. Paul has a very small and cute house. He's very clean, which is a plus! He only has one bedroom, so at first you took his bed. You felt horrible for taking his bed, so you bought a blowup mattress for yourself. Of course, Paul made you stay on the bed and him take the mattress on the floor.

Your alarm wakes you up. You groan and stand up. You took today off because Paul says you need a break. You go pee and then sit on the bed. You check your phone.

Paul: good morning. I'll be home earlier than usual.

Emily: Hey, sweet girl.

The curiosity is building in your stomach. What do Paul and his friends do to make money? How's he able to help you?

You: Hey paul

Paul: Hey y/n

You: what do you even do all day?

Paul: Mechanic work.

Veey vague, lol. You cuddle into the blanket and fall asleep.

You wake up and check the time. It's 4:00 p.m. you get out of bed and decide to go over to Emily's.

"I'm so glad you're a part of the family now." She smiles as she soaks up the sun on the towel in her front yard. "I'm happy to be here. It's just strange how Paul is so willing to do all of this for me." You lean your head back. "Isn't it obvious?" She giggles. "It is, but I still don't get it." You reply. "You will." Her answer made you stop and think. You're too scared to push more. Embry, Quil, and Sam walk up to the house. "Hey, y/n!" Embry sits next to you. "Hey, guys! I'm guessing Paul will be home soon. I'm gonna cook dinner for us both." You stand up. "Housewife already?!" Quil playfully shoves you. "Oh stop! It's the least I can do for all he's done for me." You reply.

The front door opens as you put your dishes in the dishwasher. "Hey! How was it today?" You ask him. He takes off his shoes, and you see how sweaty he is. "It was good! I hope you got the rest you needed." He walks over to you. "That smells so good. I'm gonna shower and then eat." He smiles at you before walking away. You can't help but blush. Oh geez. This guy.

You start cleaning up when you accidentally cut your hand with a steak knife. "Ow! Shit!" You yell. Blood immediately starts dripping on the floor. Paul comes running out without a shirt and just his shorts. He's quickly at your side. "Woah! What happened?" He grabs your bleeding hand. He guides you over the sink with a hand on your lower back. He turns on the water and puts your hand under. "It burns." You groan. "I know, babe. Just hold on." He stands behind you, holding your hand under the water. You caught on to what he said but didn't want to point it out. He grabs peroxide out of the cabinet above you and pours it on your wound. He turns off the water and keeps his hands on you.

Later that night, you two are laying in your beds, about to sleep. Your hand is wrapped up. "Paul?" You ask. "Hmm?" You get nervous. "You called me babe earlier." You said blankly. He sighs and then turns on the lamp. You look at him in confusion. "I don't want you to go." He gets out of the mattress and sits on the bed. "What do you mean?" You ask. So quickly, he's hovering over you. His face is inches away. You could scream in fangirl. Your face turns red. You can't do this anymore. You grab the back of his neck and pull his head down. His lips meet yours. Automatically, your world begins to shift. You can feel flowers blooming inside of you. The magic is happening. His lips are perfectly on yours. His tongue makes its way in. You push the blankets off of you, and he rests his body on yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, and his hands grab your wrists, pinning you down.

He's not in bed by morning. You sit up and smile. That was the best night ever. You go to the bathroom and look in the mirror. Bruises on your inner arm, your thighs, and a hickey under your ear. You run and check your phone.

Paul: good morning babe.

You check the time and notice you're late for your shift at the library! Shit! You call them up so quickly. "Y/n, you okay?" Your boss asks you. He's the sweetest old man ever. He's super understanding. It's just you, him, and your coworker Angela. "Yes, sir. I'm okay! I'm so sorry for being late. I'm coming in." You urge. "You're okay! Look, I needed an extra day of work anyways, sweetie. You go ahead and relax. You can come back tomorrow. I know two jobs is hard." He sighs. You groan and sit on the bed. "You won't be penalized, y/n. You're okay. Just relax today." He reassures. "Thank you, Mr. Miller."

You call Paul to let him know you'll be home all day today as well. He picks up. "Hey. You okay?" He asks. "Yeah, I'm just calling to let you know I'll be home today, too."

Later that night, you two are sitting on the couch, watching TV. "Paul, can we talk?" You ask. He mutes the TV and turns to you. "What's up?" He smiles. "What are we?" You ask. "What do you want to be?" His face gets a bit closer to yours. "I want to be more than friends." You blurt it out. "There you go. You're mine." He grabs your hand. "But, I do want to talk to you about something." He adds. "Mhm?" He bites his lip, trying to conjure up the words. "I don't want you working so much. I want you to stay here with me. I know it's a lot and I know it's fast but there's a lot to be explained." He closes his eyes and sighs. "Paul, you've done so much for me. More than I could ever ask. Honestly, since I met you, I've been head over heels." You giggle. He grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap, attacking you with kisses. He stops as well as your giggling, and he looks at you. "I have to tell you something very serious." He says. You nod your head and watch his eyes. "You remember the wolves?" He looks so nervous. You pull back a bit and look over him. "What about them?" You ask in a panic. "That was Sam, Jacob, and I was the one who stood there in front of you." He explained. You never went into detail about the wolf in front of you or really what happened exactly. So the fact that he knew that, sent chills down your spine. "How?" You ask. "That red eyed woman is a vampire. My tribe descends from wolves. When a new vampire comes into town, one of us shifts." You get off of his lap and stand above him. "Why are you just now telling me this?" You ask in shock. "Because there's this thing wolves do." You stare at him, waiting for more. "Imprinting. The universe gives us a soulmate. I imprinted on you that day. You are my soulmate. If you don't want this bond, please tell me. We can just be friends if you want." He stands up in front of you and tries to hold you steady as you're beginning to panic. "Hey, sweetie. It's okay. Breathe. What can I do?" He's whispering.

2 weeks later:

Your eyes wander across your boyfriend's body. He looks down at you and grabs your waist. "I can't get over how such a hot man imprinted on me. I get to see this after every patrol." You lean up and kiss him. He holds onto you and then pulls you down on top of him on the bed. You straddle his waist, feeling him in between you. "I love you, y/n." He says on your lips. "I love you, more Paul." You say back and pull off your shirt.

"Uhm, guys, small house. Pack of wolves in here! Please." You hear Jared call out. Oh yeah, you were so engrossed in your honey. You forgot the wolves were sleeping over because of some vampire duty. You pull away from him and giggle. "Damn it. I wanted to be on top this go around." You tease. He groans and then kisses you again. "Don't let them stop you." You slap his chest softly causing him to laugh. "That's gross, Lahote."

[scozthewoz]

mercs as cat breeds + kitty merc headcanons

inspired by/in collaboration with @joonliebe (i changed a few of them sorry pookie 💔)

kitty headcanons are from my cat fortress AU where all the mercs are cats that are foster fails because nobody wants those motherfuckers and now miss pauling is stuck with them all

spy ▪︎ persian - fancy and high maintenance. the signature bond villain cat

likes to be alone. needs to be taken to the groomer once a week or he gets pissed off and starts tearing up the couch. he has a very strict schedule and if his terms are not followed he throws a tantrum. he also sneaks out of the house and dissapears frequently. a dick to the rest of the cats, except scout for some reason.

heavy ▪︎ siberian - big boys with big coats, comes from siberia

the most well behaved cat there. scarred up and scary looking from his time in the pound, but he's suprisingly very quiet and peaceful. naturally chunky and big boned. miss pauling's favorite. he's a bonded pair with medic, they can normally be found grooming each other. he tends to wrangle scout when he's being too much, he doesn't like to see miss pauling stressed.

pyro ▪︎ sphynx - just a weird lookin thing. also an affectionate and energetic breed that likes to wreak havoc

peculiar little intersex kitty covered in burns, owners died in a house fire (that she may or may not have caused). both eyes are gone, but she navigates just fine. knows how to turn the stove on and has set multiple small fires. miss pauling puts him in cute little sweaters since he doesn't have any fur to keep him warm.

sniper ▪︎ savannah - hybrid of a house cat and a wild serval

very solitary, like spy, but not hostile to the others. owners were an old couple that died and it shook up the already shy cat. miss pauling doesn't need to feed him like the others since he sneaks out and hunts his own meals. almost completely silent unless he's sitting at the window and chirping at birds. evident dislike for spy. quiet and low maintenence so not a huge headache, but he tracks mud in the house. he's very skittish too, runs off or hides whenever there's company.

medic ▪︎ turkish angora - graceful. very majestic. cunty, even

on paper, he seems like a very good cat! he's an ex-service animal that still carries out some service tasks, like deep pressure therapy when miss pauling is getting anxious or retrieving stuff. only problem is that he loves bringing dead things inside, and he goes out of his way to rip it to shreds and get blood and guts ALL over the house. he also has a temper issue, and he needs little kitty glasses because his eyesight is shit.

engineer ▪︎ munchkin - haha short legs!! oh yeah, and they're pretty smart

used to be a workshop cat around for pest control, lost a leg in an accident. workshop guys gave him a kitty sized hardhat he gets very upset without. he's got a hard time jumping up on stuff since he not only has short legs, but he's got a prosthetic one too, so miss pauling made him a few kitty staircases up to his favorite spots. he likes stealing tools from neighbors and and scrap metal from outside and stashes them under the couch.

demoman ▪︎ scottish fold - scottish, prone to eye problems

missing an eye and has some singed fur from teens with fireworks. little kitty eyepatch. he frequently gets into the bailey's irish cream miss pauling keeps on top of the fridge and has to be brought to the vet for liver issues at least once a month.

soldier ▪︎ ragdoll - developed in america !!🇺�� tend to rough house when playing and are very vocal

used to belong to a war veteran, then became a stray after he died. clipped ear. his body's kept shaved because of scarring and matting issues, so he's got furry boots and a puffball tail, but the fur on his noggin covers his eyes. he frequently bothers the others. a big sweetheart for miss pauling, but agressive with anyone else. likes fetch. dog in a cat body.

scout ▪︎ siamese - the extroverts of the cat world, very energetic and chatty, also very clever.

his ma and brothers are all siamese, but he's got an oddly fluffy tail like a persian.. he's a big fan of miss pauling, never leaves her alone. gets pissy and scratches the curtains or breaks a glass when she's giving one of the other cats too much attention. wayyy too clingly and always causing some sort of trouble or getting into places he shouldn't. he also meows CONSTANTLY.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 21: The Concert

Every time they're not on camera I simultaneously feel so relieved for them and so upset that I don't get to watch. Messed up of me, but hey. Remember that slightly disturbing quote where Paul said he actually does believe he's kind of public property and he's fine with that?

He looks so determined. Like the fairy tale prince staring down the dragon or Enjolras about to hijack a funeral (Literally my baby was conceived after I watched this in IMAX so if that tells you anything about my feelings . . . I'm going to be annoying I'm sorry I can't help it)

Her legs look so good in those tights! I love that Mo came not because her boyfriend needs his mommy but because she wants to see them perform! Kissing her on the mouth right now.

Danger boy Paul!

Fun fact, I was this John for Halloween in 2021 to a college party. My hair was already like that, and I had dirty white keds and black jeans, so I just did fake sideburns, fake glasses, and a fake fur coat. I tried to get my best friend to be Paul. She wanted to be a hooker, and I was like “It’s the same thing!”

See, look at him and his whorish ways!

John’s little lip-bit smile. He’s so happy with himself nailing that solo. Cutie. 

Cocky boys. As they should be. I love when they’re proud of their work together. Get Back is 95% just Looks between John and Paul, isn’t it?

John and Paul instantly jump into their little “humble working class entertainers” act. You know what just occurred to me? You know how they talked about the “rattle your jewelry” comment backstage and Paul dared John to say it? I wonder if they talked about the “audition” comment too.

It really is a beautiful thing they’re doing. It’s lovely, watching everyon leave their desk jobs and their shopping and whatever else to sit in their fire escapes and congregate in the street and huddle together on rooftops. It really is just like the happy end in a sixties zeitgeist movie. 

All the girls nervous to be too enthusiastic after years of being made fun of themselves and watching others like them being mocked on TV. Let girls like things, damnit!

Mo jamming! I’m in love.

John mouthing Paul’s lyrics.

“Paul McCartney singing that. What a voice.” Literally me if time travel existed. 

“And if SOMEBODY loved me like she does,” Well, it is good manners to look at the person you’re talking to, I guess. But you do have an audience, John. And a mic and a camera. 

“Absolutely disrupt all the business in this area.” Yes! Get those blue meanies, boys!

“No lay rishi gahd blay bloojaygoo” should replace all the stupid quotes the Lennon estate puts on everything they sell. Then I’d actually want their shit. Paul trying to magic the words from his head into John’s there. Successfully, though.

That “Pleeeeeheeeeease” is one of the prettiest beatles vocal moments. I love it with all my heart. And clearly, so does Paul. Doing that thing he does, inappropriately thrusting into his bass. 

Oh my gosh it’s the song Paul and John do together on tour right now!

That “Yyyyyeeeeeah, yeaaaaaah!” (I mean the whole song, the whole concert, but especially that) does things to me. 

John’s extremely blurry, because he turned his head quick enough to give him whiplash there, sorry everyone. But look! They’re having the time of their lives! They just love performing together so much!

Everyone goes to check on their accumulating audience. (except Paul. Wonder what that’s about.)Ringo’s little pleasantly surprised smile is so so sweet!

It must be so fun for them to be performing One after 909 again after all these years. Bitter sweet with everything that’s changed since then. 

LMAO Kevin thank you for your service!

He’s a silly cutie.

The mic in the street asking that girl if she’d like them to come back every lunchtime. Imagine if they did? How cute would that be? Like back to their cavern lunchtime shows. Maybe that could’ve saved them.

Them playing God Save the Queen reminds me of that story where Brian was like, “This bigger manager wants to buy your contract from me, and I just wanted to be straight with you. They could probably get better deals for you.” and they were like, “If you sell us to him we’re only playing God Save the Queen from that moment on.” It’s probably a fake story, but that’s what it made me think of. 

I always think that quote of Paul’s is so strange, where he was like “I never got the chance to watch John while we were playing.” Like. What are you talking about, baby?

Literally “Uh. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” Fucking his bass. Staring at John. Okay? And I’m not supposed to take that and run with it? I’m not supposed to assume from that that you want to fuck your songwriting partner?

I think he genuinely wants to get arrested. I really do. I think he wants them all to get arrested so they can finally be alone in a room together. A lovely cell for four. Just shimmying at them. And Billy looking at him like, Bro. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Paul’s “woo” and shimmy :: John’s “woo” and weird little kick move. And Paul looks so fond, of course. 

God bless Mal for stalling those little fucks as long as humanly possible. And Debbie! “Don’t actually go on the roof because it’s overweight.” Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss!

Absolutely LOVE John and George turning their amps back on. That’s right. You guys are what’s keeping the country going at this point, so if you want to play on your roof they better let you play on your roof and say thank you.

All the times when they just simultaneously turn to each other. Like, yes, this is our que to stare hungrily into each other’s eyes. 

My stomach just dropped at those words across the screen. “This was the Beatles’ last public performance.” We know, Peter Jackson. You don’t have to remind us. Jeez. 

John and Paul’s two very different but equally important leadership roles in the band at work here at the end of the concert. John delivers his iconic line, makes everyone laugh, and seals the band’s last performance with a very tight bow. Meanwhile, Paul’s climbing the gate to bypass the crowd and schmooze the police out of arresting Mal. 

THIS is sooo cute. Heads buried together and John’s very sweet, “‘s’matter? Hmm?” 

George is so cute here in the control room afterward. No wonder they don’t listen to his not wanting to do things, honestly, if he acts like this after. “What’s the law say why you can’t do that? Well how disturbing the peace? Yeah, I’m for taking over London. And every rock group in the world all on different buildings, playing the same tune.” Adorable.

Poor John. It breaks my heart that he doesn’t think his little lyric flub is funny. He’s disappointed in himself. I wish he could see that that’s one of the things everyone loves about him. George was grinning ear to ear about it. For fuck’s sake, that’s one of the reasons Paul fell in love with you in the first place. If only John could see himself the way we see him, you know? 

This little moment cracks me up. John always has to be mommy’s naughty little boy, and Yoko does a very sweet job of playing her part here. 

Linda and Paul are so touchy and clingy and it’s very romantic and I love that Ringo joins in and makes fun of them.   

The whole after-show glow for everyone was just so palpable and fantastic. I wish they could've gone on performing together. Clearly it made all of them very happy.

[crepesuzette2023]

Having the best time on here? George.

[mygreatadventurehasbegun]

Favorite Movies of 2024

The Zone of Interest (2023)

First theatrical movie of this year and damn...this movie is an experience. Set during WWII, the movie follows the family of the Commandant of Auschwitz, while they live in the house next to the death camp. It is a way of looking at that time in history I don't think we've ever seen before...by not looking at it. We never see inside the camp, or witness any of the horrors that took place. But we see the Commandant's wife (played by the fantastic Sandra Huller) try on a new fur coat, or hand out clothing to her servants, and know exactly where they came from. We hear trains arriving as the children play in the yard. It is a very effective piece of filmmaking and a film I think everyone should see.

Don't Look Now (1973)

A fascinating look at grief and how it can differently affect people. After a couple (Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland) lose their daughter in an accident, they temporarily move to Venice while the husband is working. And slowly process the loss in different ways. Laura slowly finds some semblance of peace after speaking with a psychic, while John tends to bury his feelings and dismiss the spirituality his wife has embraced. This movie almost feels like a dream, with surreal moments sprinkled throughout where you start to wonder if John is losing his mind or if there is some sort of weird conspiracy or con set up by the aforementioned psychic. But if you think you know the answer...you're probably wrong, as this movie goes in such an unexpected direction with an ending that is both shocking and heartbreaking.

The Holdovers (2023)

I did not expect to like this movie as much as I did. Newer comedies don't tend to work for me...but what we have here is something that is timeless. I watched it again at the end of the year and I think I liked it more the second time around. Focusing on a teacher at a boarding school (played by Paul Giamatti doing some of his best work) who is forced to stay on campus to look after the students who are not going home for winter break. What follows is a cross between The Odd Couple and Dead Poets Society, as teacher and student spend the next two weeks together. They are joined by the school's cook (played by Da'vine Joy Randolph, who won a well-deserved Oscar for the role), who recently lost her son in Vietnam. This movie is funny and clever, as well as both heartbreaking and heartwarming...a perfect movie for the Christmas season or any time of year!

Lifeboat (1944)

This one had been on my list for a while, and I'm so glad I was finally able to see it! After a German submarine sinks their ship, several passengers take refuge in lone lifeboat and try to figure out how they can survive. This is by far Hitchcock's most claustrophobic film...there may be wide shots of the ocean, but that just makes the lifeboat that much smaller. Tensions rise pretty quickly, as you can imagine, but the dynamics between all the characters is very compelling. It's not an easy movie to find, but if it comes across your radar, it's one I would suggest checking out!

The Crow (1994)

If I had to pick one favorite movie for the year, it would probably be this one. I'm actually disappointed it took me this long to watch this one, because it is so up my alley. After he and his fiancée are murdered, Eric Draven (the incredible Brandon Lee) returns from the dead to avenge the wrongful deaths. Everything about this movie is iconic: the aesthetic, the music, the performances...I could gush about this one for a while, so I'll just say this: Brandon Lee was an absolute star. His performance is so good, I cannot take my eyes off of him when he's onscreen.

He Ran all the Way (1951)

While trying to add a few film noirs to my list, I came across this movie for free on YouTube and decided to give it a shot. After a payroll robbery goes wrong, Nick (played by John Garfield, in his last film) ends up taking refuge in the apartment of Peggy (Shelly Winters) and her family. John Garfield gives an excellent final performance in this film as a man who is in way over his head...he's someone who tries to be tough, but you can tell that it's really not who he is, but feels he has no choice but to go down that road. His dynamic with Shelly Winters is really interesting to watch, as you can tell she likes him, but is also trying to do the right thing to keep her parents and little brother safe. It's a really intimate story, as we spend about 3/4's of the movie in that apartment, and it seems to get smaller as Nick's paranoia starts to grow.

Heretic (2024)

I really enjoyed this movie. If you're looking for a dialogue-heavy, tense movie with a small cast...this is for you! When two Morman missionaries enter the home of Mr. Reed (played by the excellent Hugh Grant), they think they are going to convert him to the LDS church, when in fact, he has something different in mind. When I say dialogue-heavy, I mean it...Hugh Grant has some looong monologues in this movie, and they are fascinating to watch...and the dialogue between him and his guest is both interesting to listen to, as well as being incredibly tense. You spend a lot of the runtime just trying to figure out what his game is...what is he really trying to do? And I did find myself figuring it out right around the same time as the characters, which to me, shows that it's a well-crafted and engaging story. I really want to see this one again, to see if knowing the ending changes the viewing experience.

Wicked (2024)

I think this movie wins for being the most fun movie of the year. While potentially a bit too long, this movie is carried by the extraordinary performances of Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande. In telling "the untold story of the witches of Oz", these two created characters and a relationship that is so real and compelling, that audiences are mesmerized from start to finish. I've been a fan of this musical since the Broadway show opened in 2003 and I it was so wonderful seeing the story and songs brought to life on the big screen. And this film's production design? Outstanding. The dedication to creating a real world (rather than a digital one) for these characters to live in really touched my heart. It really felt like an old MGM musical for the modern age.

The Red Shoes (1948)

Another movie that I was retroactively mad at myself for not watching sooner. I had seen bits and pieces over the years, but had never sat down to watch the entire thing from start to finish. Fortunately, I bought the Blu-Ray during the last Criterion Sale and gave it a watch! This movie is absolutely stunning to look at, with beautiful cinematography and gorgeous saturated colors. And the story of the ballet dancer who must decide between a "normal life" with the man she loves and a prestigious career in the ballet with the man who discovered her is so engrossing, even though I knew where the movie was heading. And the dance sequence is breathtaking. Even though you watch it knowing that there's no way this would actually happen in a real theater (impossible costume changes, a stage that is seemingly never ending), you don't care because the storytelling is impeccable.

Nosferatu (2024)

And now we're at my final theatrical experience for the year! I don't know if I can put into words how good this movie is. I initially gave it an 8.5/10 after seeing it, but after thinking about it more, I'd probably rank it a bit higher. This really was a love letter to the horror fans who love the old, gothic movies...there was one short sequence that actually make me think of The Innocents and it made me so happy! And I appreciate that this movie did not rely on jump scares (though there were a few well-placed ones) but instead focused on the sense of dread and foreboding that fills both the characters and the city as Nosferatu draws near. Lily-Rose Depp gives an unbelievable performance as Ellen, the young woman with whom Nosferatu has fixated on...the physicality she brings to the role, as well as the raw emotion was very impressive. This one is still in theaters, and I think anyone who loves old horror movies needs to get their butt to the theater.

[kinsfaun]

Paul McCartney in his fur coat being a princess, in Austria.

Help! 1965

[since0202]

Taking Time—Fifty Four

Home is a person

Word Count: 12,959

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Abortion (I will bracket where it starts and ends in an obvious manner so you can avoid if needed <3).

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Every step home has felt right so far. Maybe it’s just because I’ve been away for so long, but it feels like something has changed or shifted. And as I get closer, that feeling only gets stronger. Now, as I sink into that undeniable warmth, it’s hard to think otherwise at all. Soft, warm breath spans gently across my hair and I reach for the warm body nestled next to me. It must be Paul. How he knew I was here, I’m not sure, but in the halfway point between sleep and wake, I’m not sure of much. The soft body grunts and rolls closer to me, making soft sounds that lull me deeper into sleep. I want it always to be like this: sleepy mornings, just peace, before the sun cracks me open like an egg and burns me from the inside out. 

Maya rolled toward the low rumbling groan coupled with that hardy warmth she’d come to know so well when she was home. Paul was so soft. She ran her hands up and down his sides to a pleasant smacking sound coming from his lips. She burrowed closer for warmth, still in that holy toss between dreaming and awake and felt his warm breath flow over her hair. It almost felt wet. Maya inhaled a deep breath savoring his smell only to be met with a warm mildewy scent of dried fur and the forest. He must have only just phased back from rounds and the smell of his wolf form simply clung to him. It didn’t matter. Maya leaned her head up and was met with the his soft, warm, wet lips. Really wet. He kissed and dampened her entire face with his mouth, his tongue. 

Maya leaned back and groaned her dissent, but the onslaught kept coming, possibly even more eagerly than before, until her entire face was coated in saliva. Paul really had it coming. Maya’s face twisted into a grimace as she opened her eyes, only to be met with the towering dark frame of Leah’s german shepherd. 

“Blegh!” Maya managed before the dog continued with vigor to her dismay. She braced her arms across his chest and tried to push, but the thumping of his tail wagging only seemed to make him stronger as he continue to cover Maya’s face in fervent licks with delight that she was awake. 

Maya heard a laugh from the door before Keye said,”Yodel, that’s enough. Come here!” Yodel immediately hopped off the bed and hurtled toward Keye, standing at attention at her feet with his tongue lolling to one side. Keye dropped her hand to stroke his head affectionately, “I thought we said no more kissing dogs after that trip to Seattle when Becks convinced that forty year old bouncer she was old enough to get in by her expertise?” 

Maya rubbed her dog-drenched face on the pillow before rolling over and beginning to rub her eyes, “I remember that being you, not Becks.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Keye replied lazily as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her until now.

“Come on, Leah’s making breakfast,” Keye stated from her place leaning up against the doorframe. As she plodded away softly, Maya heard Yodel following her dutifully down the small hallway to the kitchenette.

“Okay, but you still have a lot of explaining to do,” Maya called after her as she sat up and ran a hand through her disheveled hair. She didn’t even attempt a glance at her phone. The soft, gray morning light of Seattle pulled her eyes toward the window and Maya let out a soft sigh and let the day breathe her in.

Leah’s apartment was bright and airy. The kitchen and living room sat in a lofted space with high ceilings that allowed large industrial air ducts to span it. The bright beach wood of the rafters above seemed to capture light and sprinkle it down across the warm butcher block island where she was preparing another omelet, this time for herself, after making one for Keye and Maya. They tucked in around the island on carefully crafted wooden bar stools that Maya had a sneaking suspicion were the handiwork of her boyfriend. Maya peered over shoulder to look out the floor to ceiling narrow windows covered in a gauzy, white curtain. The living room was a collection of well loved, mismatched furniture pieces, all softened by time and use. 

Maya hadn’t fully recognized the neighborhood they were in when they drove in but she wondered how close they were to Paul’s workshop. Leah was laughing at Keye as she exclaimed how she’d never thought to add spinach to an omelet, or any vegetable to any dish for that matter, when Maya zoned back into the love fest unfolding before her. 

“You need to eat more vegetables, I keep telling you, or you’ll never be able to hold up a bike at a stop light. Even a little one,” Leah’s face was all sunshine. She tore off a piece off her omelet and handed it to a waiting Yodel at her feet. 

“She’s got a thing for bikes,” Keye hummed around a bite.

“I do not,” Leah tried to bemoan, but it only came out as soft embarrassment, her neck flushing with a hint of pink. That was hard to dispute considering Leah’s apartment was stationed above a bike shop. Her bike shop in fact. 

“Crotch rockets, some call them,” Keye quipped, shooting Maya a gleeful look.  

“Stop,” Leah replied breathlessly with a laugh, “They’re not called that.”

“She rode up on one to Seth’s wedding, what was I supposed to do? Not fall in love with her?” Keye goaded, shooting a bright smile in her direction. Maya lit up at this—she wanted to know everything about how Leah and Keye met, how the imprint happened. 

“So, it was at Seth’s wedding then?” Maya leaned onto the counter, trying to quell her excitement. Leah looked down at her omelet with a soft smile as if just recalling the memory overwhelmed her with joy. Keye blushed and shoved another bite of gooey omelet in her mouth. 

“Yeah, it was at Seth’s wedding,” Leah started softly, “Gah, I still can’t believe that little twerp is married. I swear I was helping him with his homework only last week,” she shook her head, still lost in her moment of nostalgia. 

“Uh, I’m pretty sure you were helping him with his homework last week, babe. You guys were debating the merit of classic authors still being considered the classic norm in a postmodern world in this very kitchen.” Maya giggled at that and Leah looked up at Keye with such soft eyes that Maya thought she’d explode on the spot. Keye held her gaze for as long as she could before blushing and looking back down at her omelet, playing coy while continuing to eat. 

Oh, so it was that kind of imprint. 

“Yes, we met at Seth’s wedding,” Keye continued for her after a few bites as Leah started cleaning up. Keye launched into the story like it was well known and been written down for years. 

She said it was instantaneous. Much like Maya and Paul had, Leah and Keye and locked eyes and that was it. But most of the guests had been distracted and the pack was thoroughly drunk on special Quileute brewed beer so no one was really paying them any attention. No one had even really realized, except for Keye and Leah. They had sat there and stared at each other, across the dance floor for a cool minute or two. It could have been eons for all Keye knew. 

Leah’s face, which had been schooled in a cool complacency for most of the night as she muscled through her baby brother’s wedding, had shifted to something bright and surprised. Breathless, she had strode across the dance floor in her pale cream suit, sparkling under the carefully hung lights as she weaved her way through couples. Her eyes never left Keye’s and Keye had stayed glued to the spot, her heart beating wildly. Nothing would stop Leah from getting to her, and as she startled to a stop in front of her, Keye let out a loud exhale as if breathing again for the first time. 

“It’s you,” Leah had said, so surprised yet relieved, “It’s you. Y-you…you are so…you’re my—,” 

“Keye,” she interjected, relieving the stuttering Leah. She held her hand out somewhat awkwardly, but it had felt like the only thing she could do. “I’m Keye,” she said again. 

Leah slipped her hand into Keye’s, not shaking it, but just holding it there for a moment before threading her fingers purposefully through hers and nodding. “Yes, you are.” Leah’s whole face brightened into one of incandescent happiness as light tears shone in her dark eyes. Keye was on the verge of losing it and letting this wave of joy rush over her and spill from her tear ducts. 

There she was.

Shortly after, Keye skipped town that night with Leah and sealed her fate. She just disappeared. No one even realized she was gone, and her parents just thought that she went back to campus early. Leah was prone to disappearing spells, so there was no connection made there either apparently. 

Maya’s head swum up out of the story and looked over at Leah who was leaning against the sink with her hands outstretched next to her, smiling softly at Keye. 

“And after I moved in, I took this semester off—” Keye continued after a moment.

“Wait what?!” Maya snapped out of it and jerked her head toward Keye, her eyes wide with shock.  

“My, come on,” Keye groaned, “What is it with you and school? It’s not that big a deal.” Keye said half heartedly. 

Just because Maya had a vice grip on school didn’t mean everyone else needed to maintain that level of intensity to make school an important part of their lives. Just look at what it did to her and Paul. She willed her body to relax as she shook her head, glancing quickly at Leah for any back up and finding none.

“No, no,” Maya tried backpedaling, controlling the features on her face to remain impassive, “I just mean, I didn’t realize! I should have realized.” 

Keye leveled her with an expectant stare, a small smile on her face. Maya was trying to keep her lips clamped shut so she didn’t ask the question she really wanted to ask. 

After about thirty seconds though, Maya burst: “But why though?!” 

So much for self control.

Keye couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh. Leah looked on with a bit of concern on her face. 

“Sometimes, things just work out that way, My. But don’t worry, I’ll go back and finish up,” Keye proclaimed, “Just for you.” 

Maya smiled and shook her head. That soft concerned look was still pulling at Leah’s features as she continued to watch Keye carefully. 

Maya spent the day putzing around Seattle with Leah and Keye visiting some of their favorite local haunts. They even stopped in a few local bookshops and let Maya wander for as long as she liked. She discovered some old chemistry books that she fell in love with and was thoroughly brightened despite the low hanging clouds over Seattle as they walked down hidden side streets. 

The three grabbed lunch at a little sandwich shop not far from Leah’s bike shop. When Keye got up to use the bathroom, Maya casually stayed behind to Keye’s chagrin. Leah was trying to stuff the butt end of her meatball sub fully into her mouth, sauce dripping down her chin in an endearing way as she hunched her shoulders over the low table. 

Leah had been pretty tight lipped about her estrangement from the pack but now that Maya had her alone, she wondered if without Keye’s constant frown whenever the pack was brought up, she could ask her about it. 

“What?” Leah said around her mouthful. Maya hadn’t realized she had been staring, marveling even at this intensely, wonderful woman who had captured Keye’s heart and taken care of her best friend so completely. 

“Nothing, sorry, I—” Maya stumbled and ran a hand through her shaggy hair, frizzed by the gentle rain they had walked through to get here. Maya exhaled through her nose trying to gather her thoughts about how to ask but instead, Leah spoke: 

“You’re sure you want to go back?” Leah chewed valiantly and Maya couldn’t help but let her mouth hang open a bit in surprise. That wasn’t…. “No offense, but you seem torn. And I never try to make hard decisions when I’m on the fence.”

Maya closed her mouth abruptly and shook her head to try and clear any confusion that Leah could see in her eyes, “No, I…I need to go home. It’s time to go home. Not forever, but..just for now.” 

“Tortured him enough, then?” 

Maya’s eyes shot up to meet Leah’s in shock, but that feeling quickly faded when she saw that gleam of mischief in Leah’s eyes. She hadn’t meant it the way everyone else would have. 

“I guess,” Maya shrugged. “I do miss him, though.” That was an understatement.

“Of course you do,” Leah tucked back into the table scavenging chips from Keye’s plate. “Regardless of what you know, and regardless of what you feel, the imprint should always show you true north,” the sound of crunching chips perforated Maya’s concentration, “Or so they say.” 

“What do you think then? About the imprint, I mean, now that you have it?” Maya challenged. Leah took a moment, always thoughtful, never rash in her conversation. Just clear and true and decided. 

“I think the imprint is different for everyone. So if anyone tries to tell you what to do with it, you should take that with a grain of salt. Listen to what it says to you, trust that,” Leah shrugged. 

Maya paused at that and really tried to let that sink in. Everyone had tried to tell her what the imprint was meant to do, what it was based on legend. But it had been hard between her and Paul since the beginning. Some parts were easy, when they were just together and there was nothing else, but most other things were hard—harder than the other imprints at least. So much so, that Maya and Paul had wondered for a while if there was something wrong with them. 

“I will say though,” Leah’s voice suddenly turned serious. Maya met her eyes and was taken aback by the sheer intensity at which they bored into her, “While I don’t know how your imprint works, I do know Paul.” Maya gulped, “And I can say without a doubt in my mind that he loves you with every cell in his body.” 

Maya let out a sigh. She knew that of course and so she could only say as much, “I know.” Her voice came out hoarse. 

“But he’s also a bit of an idiot. Emotionally, I mean. The guy was abandoned by everyone when he was a kid and then was swallowed by anger for most of his adult life. He’s only found his way through in maybe the past five years. That’s still no excuse for how he’s been with you, but still. That man comes with baggage and I do not envy you that task of unpacking it all,” Leah brushed her hands together to get off the excess crumbs. 

There wasn’t enough that Maya knew about Paul’s past. He’d told her the basics, but she’d gotten more information about Paul’s dad from her own mother and that was a wobbly source. 

“Speaking of members of the pack,” Maya said quickly, “do you think you’ll ever come back to the rez?”

Leah let out a gentle laugh and shook her head, “Not unless they need me.” 

“Do they not need you now?” Maya quirked an eyebrow. Leah once again leveled her with that intense stare.

“Cute girls are always too brave for their own good,” Leah leaned back and stretched her arms behind Keye’s chair just as she slid back into it. 

“You guys can stop talking about me now,” Keye said dramatically as she shook her hair away from her face. She shot Maya a knowing look to which she rolled her eyes. 

Leah leaned forward just enough to kiss Keye’s shoulder and said softly, “Never, babe.” 

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—-<<Trigger warning: mentions of abortion in this next section>>---

Maya and Keye cuddled up in the guest bed that Maya was sleeping in with a laptop between them that night watching an old 90’s vampire movie. Leah had disappeared downstairs into her shop to get some work done. 

As one of the main vampires looked out over a burning city, Keye readjusted her head on Maya’s shoulder as Yodel let out a soft sigh at the end of the bed. Somehow, it had felt like no time had passed at all. 

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Keye asked softly. Maya stared at the screen as she tried to reconcile her worry into something else. 

“I think so,” she breathed in and about before continuing, “It feels like the right time to go back. I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“True north,” Keye muttered softly. 

“Jesus, you guys really are in deep, huh?” Maya joked and Keye giggled. 

“I don’t know, probably. She was there for me when everyone was either busy or gone. I don’t think that was the imprint either, she just…knew I needed her and she stayed,” Keye was quiet. Maya’s heart rate picked up as she realized her mistake in shutting everyone out. Even if Keye had said that she had understood why Maya did it, she knew she had hurt people who didn’t deserve it for the sake of her own peace. Keye, and a lot of others deserved more than that. 

“Keye, I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should have stayed in contact, I know that. It all just felt hard and this was easier. But I shouldn’t have done the easy thing….not when it comes to you or Becks,” Maya scrunched in closer to Keye. 

“It really is okay, My. I get it. I disappeared too, you know. Just…tell us next time.” 

“I promise,” Maya breathed. “But I don’t plan on disappearing again. I didn’t even mean to fully disappear before, it was just….easier that way. But it wasn’t fair to your or Becks, so I promise.”

The vampire on screen looked wide eyed at the little girl who was drinking from an older woman. She looked so small, so innocent. Her too-young youth, eternally frozen in time. 

“I have to tell you something,” Keye breathed, her voice hitching at the end as if she was unsure. 

“What?” Maya said softly, looking down at the side of her face. Keye sat up and Maya turned toward her, realizing that her face was pulled tight with pain. “What is it?” she reached for Keye’s hands that were clasped tightly in her lap but pulled back when she flinched slightly as if being touched might be too much at the moment. “Are you okay?” 

“I am..I am. I really am. I need you to know that I am okay going into this,” Keye’s voice wobbled slightly as she sat up straight, before leaning back against the headboard. 

“You’re kind of scaring me, Keye,” Maya said slowly as she pressed pause on the movie and sat up too, crossing her legs in front of her and turning her whole body to face Keye. The looks that flitted across her face were hard to read but as Keye bit her lip, Maya knew this was something more. 

“I…” Keye began slowly, her eyes on her hands that fidgeted in her lap. Maya leaned over and covered both of her hands with her own. Keye swallowed hard, tears forming at the corner of her eyes but never falling before looking up at Maya. 

There was silence, strong and solid between them, and Maya just let it hang there to give her the space to say what it was she needed to say. 

“I left the rez because something h-happened,” Keye’s voice was quieter now and Maya listened carefully as soft rain started to patter on the windows above the bed. It was another few moments before Keye continued, “Colin and I were still dating and we were…things were going okay.” 

A cold feeling slid into Maya’s stomach, but she held her breath to keep from thinking the worst. 

“He and I were…well it doesn’t really matter, but things were going well and it was like…four days before Seth and Sadie’s wedding and I wasn’t really feeling good. Just kind of off you know?” Keye took in a breath and Maya heard the sound shudder through her, “And I…I thought that maybe I was…Fuck,” Keye wiped the tear that had escaped from the corner of her eyes and coasted down her cheek. 

“You were what?” Maya asked softly, concern laid plainly on her face. Keye tilted her head and gave Maya a knowing look as she frowned. Maya waited. 

“That I was pregnant,” Keye hiccuped softly and Maya let loose the breath. 

“Oh.” The word came out small and barely there. Just above a whisper. Keye stared down at her hands again, playing with the tips of Maya’s fingers. “Were you?” Maya prompted gently, leaning her head down to capture Keye’s eyes. 

Keye shut them tightly and the tears fiercely rolled now as she nodded. 

“Okay, okay,” Maya looked over her shoulder toward the door wondering if Leah knew…if she knew Keye was… Her gaze flitted over Keye’s body to try and discern how far along she was, but she looked entirely the same. “How far along are—”

Maya was cut off by Keye shaking her head slowly, as hot tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Maya furrowed her brow, confused. Everything was coming at her so fast and she was just trying to piece every part of the puzzle together but felt like she was missing information. When realization dawned on her, her eyes widened with sadness, “You lost it…” she breathed. “Oh, Keye—” Maya reached out to stroke her shoulder, scooting closer but Keye stopped her. 

“Not exactly.” Keye said, wetly. She swallowed hard and forced herself to sit up straight. Her eyes were harder now, and through the tears Maya thought she saw Keye watching her carefully for any reaction that would make her shutter completely. Maya’s mouth hung open again in momentary confusion before she said even softer, her breath barely a whisper, “Oh.”

She blinked rapidly as it all sank in. Of course. Maya kept her face neutral, soft, and open as she watched Keye watching her. Keye’s eyes flicked all around her face, trying to scan for any disapproval, or upset, and that made Maya worry that she had encountered some judgment from her circle. 

Maya reached out and grasped Keye’s hand softly in hers and gave her a soft nod, “It’s okay, Keye. That’s totally your decision.”

But Keye was silent, watching her as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maya let the air hang between them a moment longer before she said, “Do you want to tell me about it?” Keye grimaced. “Or tell me why?” Keye crumbled slightly at that. “Let’s start with an easier question… And you don’t have to answer anything at all if you don’t want to. But, I want you to know that any answer you do give is enough reason and enough justification for the decision you made.” Maya dipped her head to meet Keye’s eyes. Only then did she see her gaze soften with trust again. “It’s enough,” she reinforced. Maya tried to emphasize that love with her eyes as well and held Keye’s gaze. 

When Keye finally nodded, sagging with relief, Maya scooted closer so that their knees were touching, “When did you find out?” She wiped gently at Keye’s tears. 

“Just after I met Leah…Like I said, I hadn’t been feeling great up until Seth and Sadie’s wedding, but after I met Leah, it was like I needed to know, you know?” Maya nodded and just let Keye go. 

“I drove out of town to get a pregnancy test. That whole fucking tribe has eyes everywhere you know and I didn’t want to risk it getting back to…well, I bought three and I was in a fucking gas station bathroom in Beaverton with a full bottle of gatorade just…waiting for what felt like forever,” Keye stopped then and gulped down air. 

Maya was pushing her hair out of her face and stroking her thumb over her hand. “And then it was like…everything stopped you know. It was real…three times it was real. And I….I panicked,” Keye was looking around the room now, the guilt just absolutely pulling her in different directions. “I didn’t want anyone to find out. At least until I could just think for a bit you know. You know how they are about babies, if they had gotten wind that I…and it was Colin’s? No way, game over.” 

A fresh sob broke through Keye’s chest. She opened her mouth a couple of times to speak and couldn’t so Maya let her breathe through it, allowing her the space to continue or stop. But she carried on as if she needed to say it out loud, “I knew I didn’t want it, My. And I just felt….bad. I felt bad because, I don’t know…fuck I don’t know why should I feel bad, you know?” Maya just nodded. She understood guilt like that. “I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I couldn’t go back to the rez. And so I…I called Leah and she came and got me, no questions asked.” 

Thank god, Maya thought. Thank god for Leah, because Maya could just see herself so clearly mirrored in this same situation. She was so grateful that her best friend had someone like Leah to come and protect her the way she needed to be protected. 

“It took me a week to tell her. And she was just…ugh,” Keye reached for a tissue next to the bed and blew her nose before saying, “She was just perfect, you know? She knew just what to say and what to do and…” Keye’s eyes sparkled for a moment as she looked at Maya. Maya couldn’t help but give her a sad, knowing smile back. 

“Yeah, yeah, imprints are great,” she joked, rolling her eyes before squeezing her hand. Keye smiled sadly, looking down at their joined hands. 

“She told me that whatever I wanted to do, it was the right decision. And that I didn’t need to tell anyone if I didn’t want to, because it was my body. She was just…there. All the time for me. I-I don’t know if I could have done all this without her but…she held my hand through it all and I…” Keye looked up at Maya, her eyes sure and firm now, “I don’t regret it.” 

Maya shook her head, “You shouldn’t. That was your decision, and I still love you just as you are.” Keye smiled, bigger this time and nodded. 

“Still fucks with me though,” she said, resigned. 

“Yeah well, they never said being a woman would be easy,” Maya pulled her into a tight hug. Keye held on so hard, she thought her ribs popped, “I love you.” Maya breathed into her hair. 

For a while they just sat there, hugging, listening to each other breathe. Maya hoped her decisions 

— << end trigger warning>> ---

-------------------------------------------------------------

November, 1 year ago….

Go see the elders. 

Jacob’s voice echoed and roiled in Paul’s ears as he worked away at the lower deck in the back garden. The cool November air whipped round Paul as he worked at setting wood planks on his foundation. The chill did nothing to bring down his temperature though. Paul was running more than hot these days—he was constantly burning up, as if an unbreakable fever clung to him since Maya left. 

Left him. 

Paul stalled, his hands stilling on the wood as he closed his eyes tightly against his last memory of her, tear stricken and shaking her head at him. I won’t. She had said to him that she wouldn’t stay. Not for anyone, not even for him. And that tore him to pieces and set him on fire. And ever since, he’d been burning. 

Paul forced his eyes back open and worked to refocus them on that task at hand. Work on the house always gave him some temporary peace, but he could never truly escape that hollowness that deepened and ached, threatening to drive him mad before the first snow would melt. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to go on rounds at this point. But no one blamed him. No one even came looking for him. He chalked that up to Jacob, citing space, citing time, citing…whatever it was Paul was supposed to find during his time of abandonment. 

Because that’s what it was, anyway you shook it out, he was simply abandoned. Again. 

Go see the elders. 

Jacob’s voice persisted in his head, sounding firmer, angrier each time that Paul refused whether internally or externally. What would the elders do for him exactly? They got him into this mess in the first place. Setting unrealistic expectations, putting pressure on them, coaxing them along with arbitrary milestones. They wouldn’t let up with their pleading eyes and knowing conversations until Maya was pregnant. Jesus. Paul skated quickly away from that thought and continued working on the deck. 

Plus, what could the elders say to him now? Maya was gone, and all he could do was hope that she’d come back. A ripple of anger ran down Paul’s spine as he gritted his teeth. Suddenly he felt like he was six years old again, sitting on the stoop of his dad’s double wide as thunder promised rain overhead. Waiting for someone who might never return. He hated that feeling. And what he hated more was how that anger that he once thought was well and truly tempered began to roil viciously within him again. 

Go see the elders. 

Jacob’s tone turned into a rough growl in his head and Paul couldn’t stand it anymore. The hammer that had gone so still in his hand now shook and he reared back before hurling it with all his might without a care of where it landed. It connected with something far off, a tree perhaps, that shook its occupants free and had them flying off in a hurry. 

Paul let out a harsh breath as he tried to swallow the well of emotion building in him. If he was being honest, he hadn’t done so well since Maya had left. To be fair, that might actually be an understatement. As hot, unshed tears brimmed his dark eyes, he stood with his hands lightly rested on his hips. 

“Fine,” he said to no one in particular, “I’ll go see the elders.” Paul headed off in the direction of his lost hammer.

--------------------------------------------

The next morning, Maya and Keye stumbled into the kitchen together after having fallen asleep, exhausted from their conversation the night before. 

Today was the day Maya planned to return to La Push and she would be lying if she wasn’t a bit nervous. 

But, even more nerve wracking was Keye’s request to drive her into the rez. After last night, Keye had woken up feeling better, but she had told Maya sleepily that she needed to go home to fix some things too. 

It only made sense that she would come with her, but still, the thought of Keye having another conversation last night made Maya ache, especially if she wouldn’t be as accepted by the others—least of all the council. 

But Keye had assured her that Leah and her had talked about this and that she felt ready after unloading a little on Maya last night. She could do it and even more so, she felt like she needed to, to continue to heal and grow past it. 

Now, hunched over their individual bowls of cereal as Leah watched from her place leaned up against the counter, both women held an air of dread about them. 

Leah took a bite of cereal and said suddenly to Maya: “You know he’s going to know you’re there as soon as you cross the boundary, right?” 

At this, Maya couldn’t help a small shiver run through her. He’d know she was there, but what he would do about it was still up in the air. 

A few hours later, Keye pulled up the familiar, neatly paved driveway to the house. If it wasn’t for the familiar blue stone, Maya might not have even clocked that they were at her house. There’s been so much work done to it, almost as if someone frantically decided to build with unbridled purpose and determination.

“Holy shit,” Keye breathed as she looked through her windshield of Leah’s Subaru. They both sat in stunned silence for a moment, mouths slightly agape. Then Maya replied weakly, 

“Yeah.” 

The little blue house wasn’t so little anymore. 

“Did you know he was—uh,” Keye faltered to complete her sentence so Maya just answered:

“No. This is…” Maya was lost for words. 

“Yeah,” Keye breathed. Finally, she tore her eyes away from the house and looked over at Maya. “So, are you ready?” 

“Are you?” Maya said back just as hesitantly. Keye considered it for a moment and then just shrugged. 

“Yeah, why not?” She answered with a small smile. Maya exhaled a breath through her nose and nodded. Why not. 

She pushed open the door and stood slowly on the dark paved driveway that was dotted with solar lights that would guide her in at night. She grabbed her duffel bag and backpack from the backseat and shut both doors with purpose. 

Keye only pulled back up the driveway once Maya had opened the front door. But Maya stayed frozen on the threshold for a moment, marveling at what lay within. 

The quaint front entryway had been completely opened and transformed into a wide open expansive living room that wrapped around the staircase that was now exposed on either side. Off to the right of the living room where there had only been a stone wall before, Paul had put in a cozy office, the entryway was arched and held two driftwood french doors, the glass mingling perfectly with the hand carved wood. 

Maya peeked in, her eyes coasting over the back wall behind the raw edged desk that was packed books in the floor to ceiling bookshelves. An oversized, plush chair was nestled neatly next to the bookshelves and the bay window that looked out into the woods. A small iron fireplace had been installed in a free corner. It was…perfect for lack of a better word. 

Maya spun on her heel and carried on toward the back of the house. The kitchen had been further expanded, a large warm wood island stretched across the expansive green tile. New appliances had been installed, the cabinets fitted and hand carved with intricate designs to heighten the simplicity of the sleek and soft kitchen around it.

Someone had been busy. Maya wrapped her arms around herself and glanced across the space. It was all so beautiful and different. But it still somehow felt like her home. It held the exact warmth and memory as before, just opened more to welcome new memories. 

Outside the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky into the late afternoon. She pushed aside the long sliding glass door and stepped out onto the deck. A hanging bed flocked in white gossamer curtains and shaded by a partially covered pergola hung seductively off to the side. The deck had been expanded to include three levels, each holding a different space to gather with cozy chairs, firepits, and hand carved weather-proofed wooden tables. 

The most impressive thing that she had seen thus far though was the renovated workshop. Paul had completely rebuilt it, expanded it, and settled it a little further back onto the neighboring property. It almost looked the size of his studio in Seattle now, but he had built the entire front with reclaimed antique windows so that she could easily see into the intricate workspace within.The beveled glass glittered in the winter sun and made the entire backyard sparkle. It even held a second story loft that looked out toward the ocean. 

The cold November breeze rolled over Maya and she took a deep breath. She knew the kind of frenzied state he must have been in when he started building all of this. As a distraction. To keep him from feeling that hollowing pain that she herself felt almost every day when she had left. It was heartbreaking what they’d done to each other. But there was no getting around it now. 

Still, the most surprising thing was, he wasn’t here. Maya looked over her shoulder back into the house. Maybe she could find the keys to her Jeep, now neatly tucked away in the newly built two-car garage in the adjacent lot that Paul must have purchased to make all of these renovations. 

With Paul nowhere in sight, she let out a long breath. She guessed she could go to Emily and Sam’s and look for him there. That’s what she needed to do—she needed to find him. 

------------------------------------------------

February, 9 months ago…

Paul stood on the aging and worn steps of the last elder front porch in the icy rain that was oscillating annoyingly into sleet. As he looked around the front porch, shirtless and drenched in cold rain that steamed off of him, he noticed the wood rot close to the house where the porch met and made a mental note to come back and repair it once the weather cleared. 

After a few more seconds, Elder Ti’Hal slowly pulled open the door, a wool woven shawl hanging heavy over her shoulders. Her bright white hair was braiding neatly into two plaits. 

Elder Ti’Hal was truly ancient. And Paul didn’t mean that in a negative way at all. She radiated the distilled essence and teachings of their tribe. She was an elder before Paul was even born and he’d never known her without her bright white hair framing her wrinkled, warm face. 

She still managed to move fairly quickly and with agility that wouldn’t normally be attributed to someone of her age, but that was the mystery of elder Ti’Hal. She also never attended council meetings or bonfires anymore, and instead preferred to stay in her quiet cottage in the forest that she had shared with her husband before his passing over two decades ago. 

“Paul Lahote,” she said softly. “To what do I owe this very wet appearance?” 

Paul scowled off to the side, his jaw clenching so hard he thought his teeth might crack. He hadn’t realized it, but he was breathing heavily, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort of it. When he didn’t answer she just nodded gravely. 

“Come in,” she walked back into her small, warm, wooden home and Paul only hesitated for a second in the cold rain before he ducked under the tiny threshold and entered. “Let me get you a towel,” she grumbled. 

“Don’t bother,” he said, his tone coming out harsher than he intended. 

“For my couch then,” she was already digging in the small linen closet and produced a worn, threadbare towel that she draped across her couch for gesturing to it. “Sit.” she commanded. 

Paul had forgotten how bossy the elders were. He trudged across the living room, careful not to trip on the woven Quileute rug before he slumped down onto the couch in a huff. A warm fire crackled off to his left and Elder Ti’Hal had disappeared around a corner into her tiny kitchen and was clanging around with a kettle. 

“Do you want to start or should I?” Elder Ti’Hal called from the kitchen. Paul was still breathing heavily, the ache in his stomach crescendoing to a harsh beat. He may have groaned painfully in response, but he was too distracted by the unrelenting pain the imprint was causing him. “Right,” Elder Ti’Hal came around the corner with two hand thrown mugs in her hand steaming with what Paul hoped was something stronger than tea. 

She handed him his mug and when he took a whiff, he nearly threw it begrudgingly into the fire. 

“What pains you today, Paul Lahote?” she began. Paul shook his head, trying to find the right place to start, but nothing came to him, so instead he said, 

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” she sipped slowly from her mug. 

“Call me by my first and last name. It’s not like you haven’t known me before I was born. Both names seem overkill don’t you think?” 

He shifted uncomfortably on the warm, plush couch as she leveled him with her gaze and took her time answering. 

“It’s more to remind you than me,” she said cryptically. Paul scoffed: 

“Oh believe me, I know who I am.” 

“Do you?” she replied quickly. Paul glared at her full on now and leaned forward, his mug still cradled between both hands. 

“She didn’t come home for Christmas. She didn’t come home for Seth and Sadie’s wedding. Nothing. Not a fucking peep from her,” he could feel the tension in his body snap, the anger flowing through his veins freely now. He trembled slightly—this wasn’t his first time having to channel unchecked rage through himself and he doubted Ti’Hal would appreciate him exploding into a giant wolf and shredding her comfortable living room to pieces. 

Instead, Paul glued his eyes to the fire, trying to let the anger move through him and then out of him to be consumed and burned away by the fire. But every time he breathed in, it felt like ash flooding his mouth, the embers of that anger still hotter than anything else within him. 

“What does one do with so much anger?” she posed the question suddenly. Paul looked up at her wide-eyed as if shocked by the fact that she could see it on him. He was naive to think that much anger wouldn’t still be palpable to someone as attuned as her. Paul rolled his jaw and sat staring at her, waiting for the anger to ebb, but it wouldn’t. 

Fuck. 

Elder Ti’Hal settled back into her large armchair covered in different soft, worn blankets. When it was clear he wasn’t going to respond, she glanced out the window, watching the rain settle into a gentle drizzle. 

“What do you think the imprint is, Paul?” her voice was warm with a gentle thrum to it like dried maize kernels pouring into a stone bowl. Comforting, consistent. It was maddening to say the least, so Paul continued in his aggravated tone, feeling the heat rise on his skin. 

“An anchor for packmates. A promise for imprints. It’s a reason to stay.” 

“Hmm,” she breathed, her eyes still on the window watching the rain make trails to the muddied window ledge. Paul huffed, rubbing his hands against his knees with impatience. A fucking waste of time, he thought as he clenched his jaw. “But it wasn’t reason enough for her to stay?” 

When her eyes slowly drifted back toward him, Paul looked ready to burst into flames. 

“Clearly not. I can’t go get her because I’ve been ordered to stay away, but also….she doesn’t want me to come,” his voice was quiet. He waited for her to speak again but she just stared at him sadly. A deathly calm rolled over him and he thought that if Ti’Hal didn’t say something soon, he might just give up and collapse in on himself like a dying star.

“What is it then? The imprint?” Paul asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. 

Ti’Hal smiled slowly, warmth creeping into her eyes as she tilted her head to the side and surveyed Paul thoroughly. She took her time before she finally said: 

“A choice.” 

Paul tried to quiet the tremors radiating through his body. If the imprint was a choice, then Maya had clearly not chosen him. Never. Not even from the start. The thought of it made his blood boil. His face twisted in rage before he spat out. 

“What the fuck does that mean? How is it a fucking choice when it’s supposedly pre-ordained from the ancestors? That makes no fucking sense, you know that right?” Paul was on his feet without remembering when exactly he stood up. His hands were curled into fists and his chest was rising and falling quickly. He needed to calm down. If he could just calm down he could…

Ti’Hal just watched him with that serene look on her face, as if nothing fazed her anymore and the anger of a full blown werewolf couldn’t even shake her. Paul tried breathing, closing his eyes, counting to ten, but nothing could quell this desperate anger that spiraled and felt like lead dropping into the bottom of his stomach. 

Why was it always like this? This anger? It was like a tide that he couldn’t escape. Like clockwork it would just rush over him and pull him under in seconds and there was nothing he felt like he could do about it. It was an exposed wire in his veins just ticking and twitching with so much heat and sharpness that he felt his skin would burn away and leave him exposed and vulnerable. 

 “Have you given her a choice?” Ti’Hal’s voice cut through the raging quiet like a whip, but her voice still remained calm. He tried to focus on that—that there was calm to be achieved and he could reach it. He could reach the shore if he just stayed calm. He was panting, losing his breath every moment he kept himself solid and here. 

“I thought I did…but I wasn’t given one either,” he thought back to the moment the imprint had happened. Seeing her there across the fire. It was like an instant salve to a long forgotten pain. And then in the next moment, he was all resistance and rage again. Nothing felt like a choice when it came to the imprint. “We…we didn’t have time to make that choice,” Paul tried to slow his breathing. Calm, in and out, just like the waves. Not sinking but drifting.

“Some see the imprint as a gift, but that’s also just a choice wrapped up in a nice bow, in my opinion. It is a choice, Paul Lahote. You’ve made plenty in your very short life so far, but it is one that you give to her and wait until she makes it. It’s a question, and not a command and it can take many forms. You’re part is making sure you ask her the right one,” she watched his body language shift ever so slightly. “Miss Sunriviere was told that you were her imprint, told that there was to be in a relationship, and then told what her life would most likely be, in so many words.” Paul opened his mouth to retort but she continued anyway, “You are her choice. So ask the question and be patient for once. And most importantly, be vulnerable to her answer,” Ti’Hal took a moment to sip her tea. Paul tried to let those words sink in. 

He was vulnerable with her. Her absence had nearly destroyed him, was that not vulnerable enough? 

“No, not that,” Ti’Hal responded as if she could hear his thoughts. Paul’s eyes widened. 

“What’s the question, then? The one I should ask?” Paul said desperately, his voice rasping as he realized he had been holding his body tensely throughout Ti’Hal’s speech. 

“Start with the answer you want and work your way back from there,” she gave a cryptic smile and stood, disappearing behind her kitchen door and singing softly to herself, unceremoniously excusing him. 

Paul stood there for a while longer, rapidly breathing, and listening to Ti’Hal singing the songs of his childhood in her kitchen, muffled and sweet.  ------------------------------------------

The door to her Jeep shut with a sharp click as Maya shrugged on her cropped puffy jacket. Much as she had suspected, the keys to Maya’s Jeep were in the sun visor, as if waiting for her. The whole drive to Sam and Emily’s felt…calm. As if she were driving toward something rather than into something. There was no sweeping dread, no overwhelming nervousness—she just felt ready. She chocked that up to just time. The time away had made her ready for home, refreshed her.

Sam and Emily’s looked the same as it always did—warm and inviting with a steady stream of smoke coming from the chimney. It was familiar and as she took in a deep breath, the cold November air spiced with pine and fallen leaves, with a hint of the salty Pacific sent a pleasant reassuring thrum through her body. 

Maya stood by her Jeep for a moment just taking it in, before the potential chaos—whether it would be angry or joyful—would be wrought on her. Just the quiet creak of the forest, a distant river rushing toward the sea, and muffled laughter booming from within the home. 

Maya took a deep breath and took a couple of steps forward, her feet crunching on the wet gravel. She hadn’t made it more than a few steps when the screen door opened and Paul walked out slowly onto the porch, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. Maya halted, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met his. 

She braced herself for whatever awaited her, but still that pulsing calm spread through her. It all felt…alright. And she hadn’t felt that way in so long. She watched in for just a moment as he stood on the top step of the porch, his face neutral before it broke into an earth shattering smile. 

Maya could have sobbed at the sight of it. He sauntered down the steps toward and it took all of her self control not to break into a full on sprint to quickly close the distance between them. Somehow she managed a quick walk and nearly crashed into his body, but he held her fast, one arm coming out to wrap around her waist as his other hand cupped her jaw. He peered down at her, that warm smile still spilling sunshine in every direction and she stared up at him, eyes glittering with unshed tears. 

He shook his head lightly and smiled, as his thumb reached up to gently brush across her lower lip, parting them softly. 

“You came home,” he said gently, the emotion clearly wavering in his deep voice. Maya nearly crumbled at his touch. She was home. 

“Yes,” she said simply, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought it was…time,” she paused when he raised his eyebrows at her, a hint of humor and warmth in his eyes then quickly clarified: “For a visit.”

But this didn’t seem to faze him. He just nodded gently, humming in acceptance with that warm, pleased look on his face as he took her all in. There was a palpable vibration happening between them, what Maya could only assume was a physical manifestation of the imprint’s tension. 

The last time she had seen him on the rez  was over a year ago. And yet, time washed away and parted to let them stand there together again as if nothing had passed, as if this was any other day. Comfortable. 

Maya’s hands shook she gripped the sides of his abdomen. She’d come all this way to say….to say what exactly? Her mouth parted softly but nothing came out. She needed to say something, anything. The silence stretched between them and Maya just couldn’t let it hang there any longer. How could she? After he had left her in that hotel room, and how it had felt coming home again—she needed to tell him everything. 

He was tall, god so tall, he towered over her really, and yet she felt like his matching pair. 

“Welcome home,” he said gently, his nose nuzzling hers gently. 

Maya looked up at him curiously, her eyes slightly narrowed as she took him in. His dark beard was closely trimmed to his face, and his hair was a bit shorter than the last time she saw it. He looked good. Well, he always looked good, but this was different. 

His eyes seemed bright, not clouded with the anger or jealousy she had seen back in the spring. No, this Paul felt solid, for once. The light was shining on his face, his color back to its warm russet, flush with heat and health. Everything felt simpler. 

And with the confusion and despair that had once clung to that hollowness in her stomach from the imprint’s ache clearing completely, she felt like she could see clearly for the first time in awhile. She was worried momentarily that maybe it was just the trick of the imprint, beckoning her in—a salve to her burning anxiety. 

But staring up at Paul, there was an openness there that hadn’t been there before. Something that she wanted to discover and ask him about. For now though, as his hand slowly threaded into her hair and pulled her close, this was all that she needed. 

Finally, after watching her with such intensity, such heat, as if trying to rememorize every part of her face he lowered his head toward hers and crashed their lips together. It was like coming up for air after swimming beneath a current for too long. His kiss pressed new life into her and she arched her body fully into his, her curve slotting into the shape of his body just so as he held her against him. 

Paul moved his mouth over hers, slow and wanting, washing the ache of their absence away. There was no succumbing this time, just an equal measure of elation at being together again, and Maya felt that familiar sensation of something clicking into place and she saw it for what it was: being in the right place at the right time. 

She sighed into his mouth and heard him give a soft groan of pleasure before the air rang with the hoots and howls of his brothers. He pulled back gently, his eyes hooded and soft as he looked at her. Paul glanced over his shoulder at his pack crowded onto the porch and gave a gentle laugh before looking back, his eyes shining with something new as he said gruffly, “I guess they missed you too.” 

Maya swallowed thickly and laughed, not willing to let go of him first. But he took her cue and said, “Come inside, I’m sure they all have a million questions.” Paul kissed her forehead before turning and slotting her neatly into his side as they walked the short distance to the porch. 

“Hey, hey Ivy League!” Jared crooned. 

“Welcome back, My,” Seth said softly. 

“We needed a little more brains around here,” Colin laughed as Brady shoved him lightly. 

“Maya?!” a soft, female voice floated out from the front door as Maya and Paul climbed the porch steps. Becks pushed her way through the pack crowded on the porch and started sobbing instantly upon seeing her. She was heavily pregnant, and Jacob wasn’t far behind her as she nearly dropped into Maya’s arms in a hug, squeezing her so tightly she thought she cracked a rib. 

“Oh my god!” she cried into her shoulder. Maya chuckled and rubbed soft circles on her back as she looked over her shoulder at Jacob who shrugged and looked lovingly at his hormonally devastated wife. Becks pulled back to look at Maya, her face puffy and tear stricken, “You absolute JERK!” Maya barked a laugh at that and tried to wipe some tears away from Becks’ cheeks. “Don’t ever disappear on me like that again. I thought— I thought—,” 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Maya said, pulling her best friend back into a hug. “I should have texted.” Becks hiccuped a sound of disapproval, “Or called.” Maya corrected. When she pulled back, Becks nodded, seemingly trying to get herself calm as Jacob settled a hand on her lower back. Maya’s eyes widened as she took in just how pregnant she was. 

“Yeah, I know,” Becks said disappointed, “He’s like a week late.” She truly looked exhausted and the size of her belly stretched to almost painful extent. Jacob rubbed her back and leaned down to kiss her temple. 

“He’ll come soon, babe,” he promised. “Plus, Maya’s here. That’s literally all the good luck we need to induce your labor. Like last time.” 

Maya laughed again and shrugged, “Just no vampire delivery this time, right?” she quipped. Jacob rolled his eyes. 

“Jesus, I hope it doesn’t come to that. But, Carlisle is on standby if the water birth stalls or we need quick intervention,” Jacob said nonchalantly. 

“What the fuck is a water birth?” Brady whispered to no one in particular. 

“Come inside, come inside,” Becks waved a hand and with Paul’s hand on her waist gently, Maya let the warm, comforting Uley home swallow her up. 

They stayed at Sam and Emily’s until late in the evening, laughing and swapping stories. Paul stayed next to her, his presence relaxed and content, which was so unlike the tense and overwhelmingly protectiveness he had always exhibited before she left. 

She glanced over at him a couple times, and each time, he caught her eye and gave her a smile. One that promised nothing but exactly what he was in that moment. And it made her…happy. 

When she started to yawn, Paul took that as an opportunity to lean over and whisper softly against her ear, “Let’s go home.” 

Maya nodded immediately and they said their quick goodbyes to those remaining there, promising to come back tomorrow for lunch and babywatch. 

When they pulled up to the house in Maya’s Jeep, she couldn’t stifle her laughter quickly enough before Paul looked toward her amused and said:

“You don’t like it?” he asked, not even a little offended. If she didn’t know any better, there might be a slight teasing tone to his voice.

“No, no! It’s beautiful, I—,” she shut her eyes tightly to quell the rising emotion in her stomach from burning behind her eyes for too long. “It’s beautiful, Paul. You’ve clearly been busy, but I’m not sure why you did all this work.” Liar, the voice inside her quipped. 

The corner of Paul’s mouth pulled up in a smug grin beneath his closely trimmed beard, “Bullshit,” he replied, maybe to that voice in her head. Maya blushed and shook her head at the soft teasing tone. 

They hopped out of the car and came around the front into each other’s sides, arms weaving effortlessly over each other’s waists like magnets pulled them together, as they walked toward the house.

“Well, why else would you feel the need to renovate our entire house? It’s not like we needed to. The house was…fine, before,” she swallowed a gasp on the last two words as Paul confidently reached for her hip and tugged her closer, pulling her body flush with his. He stopped her, his other hand came up to rest on the side of her neck and threaded through her hair at the  nape of her neck.

He chuckled and Maya felt the warm rumbling vibration of it stumble through her body and land in her belly. “Shut up,” he said with a gentle smile. Maya couldn’t help her returning grin before she quickly wiped it from her face. 

“Seriously, if this is what happens every time I leave, I’m going to have to have someone confiscate your power tools,” his warm breath fanned across her face as he sighed, his eyes dancing around taking her all in in this light. How did he do that? Look at her like he was seeing the most incredible thing he’d ever laid eyes upon for the first time, and yet, the familiarity of his gaze said he’d known her forever, lifetimes before even. She let her hands rest on his chest now as she looked up at him. 

“I forgot how much of a little shit you are,” he teased.

“Me?! Really, you're a menace to homes everywhere—” Maya was cut off as she shrieked with delight as Paul growled, squeezing her hip and biting her neck, his rough stubble tickling beneath her chin as he backed her over the threshold of the house and kicked the door shut behind him. 

Once inside, he grabbed her under her thighs and carried her effortlessly up the stairs toward their bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers. Maya wrapped her arms around his neck, letting herself sink deeper into the kiss. Nothing was hurried—for once. 

When he lowered her gently onto the bed, his hands coasted across her thighs and unbuttoned her jeans. He peeled them off her slowly, kissing down her body and pausing to press an open mouthed kiss to delicate V between her thighs. Maya watched him, her eyes hooded with desire as he took his time kissing back up her bare legs once her jeans were discarded, pulling her shirt up now and peppering the expanse of her belly with warm pecks. 

Maya sighed, a small moan escaping as made his way up between her breasts, swiftly pulling her shirt up over her head and burying his face in her neck, the stubble scraping against the soft skin and making goosebumps rise across her breasts. 

Paul was slow and methodical in how he worshiped her, his hands touching every part of her, pausing to measure just how well she fit in his hands. Maya felt it too and an overwhelming sense of contentment rushed through her. The imprint bond that normally rang so clear through her during a time like this was completely silent. She didn’t pay it much mind though as Paul quickly unsnapped her bra and pulled back the delicate lace before encasing her nipple in his mouth. Maya’s back arched off the bed and Paul’s hand traced the shape of it. 

His thigh nestled neatly between her legs and Maya couldn’t help but seek friction desperately there, grinding down on him and rolling her hips as he tugged gently at her nipple with his teeth, biting softly across the swell of her chest to her other breast. 

Maya was panting with desire, rolling her hips as her eyes flutter shut to simply exist in this moment with him. She heard the soft swish of his t-shirt coming off and the familiar hum of his zipper. When she opened her eyes, he was standing and discarding his clothes, fully naked at the end of the bed and he simply looked—gorgeous. Maya’s breath caught in her throat as she leaned up to look at him. His throat bobbed in equal adoration as he leaned over her, his fingers ghosting across her hips and slowly slipping her panties down her thighs. He kissed her bent knee as he slipped the lacy garment over it and when she was fully naked beneath him, he let out a well deserved sigh. His eyes raked in every inch of her as if drinking her in. Maya was propped up on her elbows, her eyes softened as she slowly let her knees drop to either side, baring herself to him. 

She was already dripping—she knew that. Paul licked his lips and kneeled between her, not wasting anymore time as he bit gently on her thigh before leaning in to devour her. His tongue, flat and warm, seemed to touch every part between her thighs and Maya threw her head back, letting out a sharp moan. He let her settle on his tongue, tasting her, relishing her scent, as he held her there, his hands anchored firmly on her hips. His mouth sucked and pulled at her clit, his tongue darting into her opening, as a groan rumbled from his throat and through her body. 

Maya was cresting, light bursting behind her eyes as she whimpered through her release. She twitched against his tongue and only then did he lean up, his eyes glazed with lust and love so intertwined that she thought she’d melt into the mattress. 

Paul ran his hands over her body again, reverently, as if to prove something to himself and Maya shivered. The ache growing inside of her was present, persistent, but he leaned down slowly, taking her mouth over his and she sighed into it. Their breath mingled, mixing, and Maya felt like she was coming home all over again. 

He wrapped his arm down around her back and shifted her up the bed, but before she could settle onto the pillows, he whipped her over him and Maya straddled his abdomen. Her eyes sparkled, and she couldn’t help but smile. Paul almost always preferred to have her beneath him when he claimed her, but in this moment, his eyes shone with a desire to see her claim every part of him. 

Maya let her hands run down his chest, memorizing the hard expanse, the ripples and lines that made him strong and immovable. His chest rose and fell in quick breaths as if her fingertips were tracing some new pattern of love into his skin. Maya slowly traced over each dip and line of muscle, her eyes trained to each small freckle or scar, taking him all in. 

His hands gripped her hips tightly, kneading the soft flesh that creased between her hip and thigh and she smiled. “You are torturing me,” he rasped, his eyes dark and desperate. Maya glanced up at his face and just smiled softly. 

“I’m just remembering,” she replied barely above a whisper. Paul pressed his thumbs into that delicate crease where her hips met each of her thighs and pressed. A shot of lightning struck between her legs and a soft gasp fell from her lips. 

“Remembering what?” he asked, so soft, so gentle. A sweet juxtaposition to the hard bodied, giant man that lay wanting and ready beneath her. Maya’s fingers paused over where his heart lay thumping wildly in his chest. 

“What it feels like to come home,” she replied, as she lifted her hips and pressed him against her center. She slid down onto him slowly, feeling the warm stretch of him. A feral groan ripped from Paul as she sank onto his hilt, her hips neatly connected to his. She feel his hands flex as they gripped and loosened on her thighs. Maya braced herself on his stomach, taking in deep, stuttering breaths as she tried to get used to the sheer size of him again. As he twitched inside of her, she let out a soft “Ah!” as she clenched around him. She was so sensitive. Being fully in control had set her body alight and Paul waited for her to move, groaning each time she inadvertently squeezed him inside of her. 

When she lifted slightly, Paul braced her between his hands, helping to raise her hips. His eyes were glued to where they connected as the sheen of her slick coated every exposed inch of him. Maya raised herself halfway up his shaft before slowly settling back down onto him working herself into a slow and languid pace. 

Maya watched his eyes, sharp and dark as they took in every bit of movement. He was in absolute awe, completely taken by the shape of her and Maya felt completely in control. 

Her mouth hung open in unadulterated want as she quickened her pace on top of him. Rolling and sliding her hips against him. Paul’s hands tightened and loosened of their own accord as if he had to remind himself to let go a little so he wouldn’t bruise her. 

With each roll of her hips, that ache was replaced with warm relief and she felt a whole body shiver rush through her as Paul started chanting her name. She needed him closer, as she felt her tits swell and ache from her impending release. As if he heard her, Paul leaned up, connecting their bodies. His chest pressed flush against hers, but Maya didn’t stop bucking her hips against his. Paul wrapped his arms around her body, nipping along her collarbone, his moans echoing across the room as Maya threw her head back, panting and cursing. 

She felt him release first, and it took her over the edge. Paul’s eyes were closed tightly as he shuddered through his release and Maya curved in on herself as she let go, her body clenching to him tightly with wave after wave of pleasure as if she was trying to rinse herself through. 

Finally, she collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck. He placed a hand behind her head and stroked gently, kissing her temple as he tried to slow his breathing. 

Still, the imprint was silent. Maya wasn’t complaining, it was just…strange. 

“Welcome home,” he breathed. Maya chuckled and buried her head in his neck as she let sleep overtake her in one fell swoop

The next morning, Maya awoke slowly. She was keenly aware of Paul’s body behind hers, his arms wrapped lightly around her waist. Rain pattered gently on the windows and she had to admit that she hadn’t felt this content waking up in a long while. 

Paul stirred gently behind her, kissing her shoulder as Maya rubbed her hand over his forearm. They stretched into one another, Paul groaning sleepily as she turned in his arms. 

“Good morning,” he said gently, his eyes barely open. Maya bit her lower lip and smiled. 

“Morning.” 

“Do you have plans today?” he asked nonchalantly. Maya quirked an eyebrow and stifled a laugh. 

“No, I don’t think so. These are my plans, what about you?” she said in only a slightly teasing tone. 

“Yeah, I want to show you something,” he opened his eyes fully now, looking down at her and Maya looked at him carefully. Not a bit of hesitation in those eyes, she noticed. “Will you come?” 

“Sure,” Maya breathed. She didn’t know why but her stomach erupted with butterflies. He gave her a warm smile and closed his eyes again pulling her closer as he settled back into sleep. 

Later that afternoon, once the rain had stopped and Maya was bundled in her heavy winter coat and rain weathered hiking boots. Paul was dressed simply in jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair neatly coiffed to the side as if he had tried to tidy it up just a little bit. 

Paul drove them into the woods and parked in a clearing. He led her through the forest and they walked for nearly an hour along sloping pathways and fern covered earth. Paul carried her over fallen trees and helped her down rain slicked slopes until the pathways went decidedly up and up. 

“Where are we going?” Maya laughed as she breathed in the briney air, her cheeks flushed red with heat and exertion. Paul looked back at her over his shoulder and squeezed her hand. 

“Almost there,” he reassured her. 

Once they broke through the treeline, Maya knew where they were headed and her heart began to race. 

It was the cliff from her dream all those years ago. Where the wolf had beckoned her forward. 

“Paul what are we—” she began as they started up the slope of the cliff. 

“When you were gone, I went and saw the elders,” he began not looking at her. Maya stopped and her hand fell from his. 

“Oh?” she couldn’t say that that filled her with the reassurance she was hoping for. The elders had been incredibly intrusive throughout their relationship. “What for?” she probed. 

Paul took a few more steps forward toward the jutting edge of the cliff that pulled out over the water. “I was looking for advice and they didn’t really offer me much…until I saw Ti’Hal,” Maya’s eyes widened at that and she followed him a couple steps onto the cliff. 

“Ti’Hal?” She was shivering, not from the cold but from something else. Nerves? She couldn’t place it. No one ever went to Ti’Hal. She was the tribe’s oldest advisor, never came to council meetings anymore, and was a recluse for lack of a better term. Still, she was revered within her community and if you did seek her out, there needed to be a very good reason. She didn’t give away her time easily. 

Paul looked out over the cliffs, the wind whipping around him as he put a hand in his pocket. “I was trying to figure out what to do about us.” Maya’s stomach dropped at that. Paul still didn’t look at her and she felt like she was waiting for other shoe to drop, “I was miserable without you Maya, I think you know that.” 

“Paul—” Maya tried again. 

“No. Let me get this out,” he breathed harshly, turning to look at her finally, his eyes were burning. “Let me, please.” He nearly begged. Maya swallowed hard and nodded. He looked out again for a couple of heartbeats before he continued, turning to look back at her but staying close to the cliffs edge. 

“I was miserable without you. I had no idea what to do about the imprint, how to get you back. It was driving me insane. Actually insane. I didn’t phase back for a few months because I couldn’t handle being without you and lending myself to that animal side was simpler. But that started to make everything worse….I felt like..I was dying without you. And that terrified me.” 

Indeed his eyes were pained and dark and Maya thought the pain of it would reach out and shatter her. That the imprint would begin to tug her closer. But it didn’t. It was odd. 

“I just wanted it all to stop. If you wanted to stay away, be without me, I wanted you to have that and for me not to feel this way anymore. So, I tried to figure out the bond the imprint made. At one point I even asked…I even considered…trying to break it,” his voice was so defeated and Maya couldn’t help a soft sob from escaping her throat at the thought of it. “I was in so much pain, I just…” 

Maya took another small step forward and he continued, determined. “Still, the elders had no advice. The imprint would pull you back to me. There would be no other option but that. And then I saw Ti’Hal. I realized after talking with her that I got the imprint all wrong. I got us all wrong,” his eyes were hard now as they looked past her, through her. 

Was this some sort of sick joke? Fear shot through Maya as she thought the absolute worst. 

“Paul, wait,” Maya said, holding her hand out. 

“No, My,” he shook his head, “Let me finish.” 

“I don’t want you to,” she nearly had to yell over the wind, “Please, let’s just go home.” 

Paul shook his head, a smile now bursting over his face and Maya had to swallow her tears to keep from letting the panic sink in. 

“You have no idea how much I love you,” he said gently. Maya’s eyes widened and she took a step forward. Please don’t let it be bad. “I realized that because of the imprint and because of what everyone thought it meant, you were never given a choice in all this. I was never given a choice in all this.” Maya started to shake her head to stop him, to make him listen, he couldn’t leave her like this. It wasn’t fair. 

“Please,” she choked. 

“I decided I wanted to make a choice in all this. And you deserve one too,” his eyes on her were hard. And he took one step forward but then, he shrank from her eyeline getting onto both of his knees. He was actually kneeling before her, his hand now out of his pocket holding something. “I want you to choose me because it’s what you want. I want a life with you and I want us to create that together. Not because of the imprint or because of what is expected. But because you love me and I love you. I want…I want so bad to marry you, My. Will you marry me?” 

The shiny glimmer of tears caught in the corners of his eyes as he stared up at her. Maya took the last few steps toward him slowly, her mouth open in shock as tears flowed freely over her cheeks now. The ring glittered in his hands, a large oval shaped diamond set in a delicate gold band. Maya was crying completely now, the tears beginning to blur her vision and she couldn't quite catch her breath.

“Will you—” he tried again but Maya cut him off quickly. 

“Yes, yes I will! Yes, Paul. Yes,!” she sank to her knees before him and he tugged her forward, kissing her through her tears as the waves crashed and roiled below them. 

Next > >

[crepesuzette2023]

“To the best of our ability Paul!”: The Paperback Writer session [and fashion show]

By Johnny Dean. From: The Beatles Book Monthly, Issue 35. June 1966.

As we walked down the corridor towards E.M.I.’s No. 2 studio (where else would one go when sitting-in on a Beatles recording session), the commissionaire pointed out to us that the boys were in No. 3 instead. So we made our way back to the front of the building and as we approached the studio door, the red light went on—which meant that they were recording. So we waited for them to finish. Three minutes later we walked in.

On entering the studio, we found John and Paul surrounded by a mass of equipment—most significant of all, were their new massive amplifiers. Paul was clad in his distinctive casual recording gear of black trousers, black moccasin-type shoes, white shirt with fawn stripes, a black sleeveless pullover and to top it all orange—tinted specs. John sported green velvet trousers, a blue buttoned up wool vest and black suede boots.

The basic track of "Paperback Writer" had been recorded the previous day, and now John and Paul were working out a detailed backing. Paul was perched on a stool thumbing away at a red and white Rickenbacker guitar, (moving with the music as he does on stage) whilst the Iyrics boomed through the studio speakers—so we were very honoured at being the first to hear their new single besides George Martin and of course, the Beatles.

We then spotted Ringo's head behind the screen in the far corner—he was playing chess with Neil. So we walked over. "Who's winning?", I asked. "Neil's the expert”, Ringo replied, and went back to the chess board to concentrate on how to get his king out of danger from an attack by Neil's bishop and castle.

The music stopped. George Martin came into the studio from the control room to have a tete-a-tete with Paul as to what they could do to improve the backing.

"What are you trying to do with this one?", I asked Paul. "Have you heard the lyrics?", came the reply. "Yes, I think it's very unusual”. "The trouble is", said Paul,"That we've done everything we can with four people, so it's always a problem to ring the changes and make it sound different. That's why we have got all these guitars and equipment here." That must have been the understatement of the year, because the studio was littered with pianos, grand pianos, amplifiers, guitars, percussion instruments, and other odd bits and pieces which were strewn over the studio floor.

The studio was sectioned-off with brown canvas screens and what seemed like thousands of black cables running from the amps and other electrical equipment to the control room over the heavily marked wooden floor. To stop the echo, E.M.I. have covered some of the floor with old carpets.

The big heavy sound-proof door which stops any of the noise of the outside world seeping into the studio, burst open, and in strolled George looking very elegant in his Mongolian lamb fur coat with black cap and oblong metal specs.

He was obviously on top of the world and bubbling over with enthusiasm, ready to record a dozen numbers. He threw his coat along side Paul's fur jacket and got down to work out the backing with John and Paul.

John, George and George Martin huddled round Paul, who was seated at the piano trying to work out a bass bit, before asking George Martin to play it. John leaned on the piano while he listened to Paul's ideas for a while. Then he picked up his orange Gretsch guitar and proceeded to pick away at it. At the same time Paul transferred to a Vox organ.

Although John and Paul were both working on the song together, it was originally Paul's idea. He asked the engineer to play it back at half speed so that John and George could do some vocal bits.

They were now all set to go. George Martin gave the O.K. The recording light went on and the basic sound track was played back through the "cans" they each had clamped over their heads. They did several takes. John and George hit some very high notes, but their voices kept cracking. "I don't think I can make it" said George, "unless I have a cup of tea. Where’s Mal?”

Right on cue at the end of the fourth take Mal emerged into the studio laden with tea, biscuits and something very special—toast and strawberry jam. Everything was immediately dropped and a sudden swoop was made on the toast and jam. Ringo, who was still in the corner trying to work out his next move, only got one piece of toast, so Mal offered to make another batch as it had proved so popular.

Meanwhile Beatles Book photographer Leslie Bryce was clicking away.

After the toast and jam had been devoured it was back to work. Paul suddenly got an inspiration he dived across to the piano and started playing bits of "Free Jacques" he was highly delighted at the thought of having it in the new single.

"O.K. let's try it", said George Martin. So John and George gathered round the mike and off they went. But it was a false start. Paul's head appeared over the top of the piano and he queried "Did you come in at the right place?". "We can't hear it properly" , said John, "anyway I thought that was the end of it.” George promptly told him it was the beginning!

After they had finished taping these bits, the tracks were played back into the studio while everyone listened in silence. George Martin was the first to speak-"I think that the best thing we've added are the 'Frere Jacques’ bits. Ringo who had finally beaten Neil at a game of chess by check-mating him in several brilliant moves involving a queen, a bishop and a castle, said that he thought John and Paul sounded as though they were singing through water! Highly uncomplimentary, so Paul then made for the organ once again and started to work out a sound which resembled that of Scottish bag pipes.

John then came swooping across the studio and shouted out—“You've got it. You've got it". Paul then started dum-dee-dumming away at everyone else—it was just like a scene from "My Fair Lady”!

George Martin appeared over John's shoulder and said "I see what you mean”. Paul announced that someone else should play it—meaning George Martin. John and George then went back to their mikes and added the vocals over the top.

After the first track Paul looked over the top of the piano and asked John and George if they were singing it right.

George turned round, lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose and looked down at Paul in a typical school-masterish fashion and said "To the best of our ability Paul!" And so the boys went on getting the sound that you will hear on "Paperback Writer”.

It was a long session. It took something like ten hours to record because the Beatles insisted on sticking at it until they were completely satisfied that they can do no more.

When you listen to "Paperback Writer" bear in mind what went on beforehand to achieve this really great sound, and I'm sure you'll appreciate it all the more.

"The very first shot of Paul we took when we arrived in the studio." (Photo by Leslie Bryce)

"Paul's hit on something. Waving his 'ciggie' he dee-dums his way through the bit he's just thought up while George sings with him." (Photo by Leslie Bryce)

Ringo's chess pieces and John's green velvet trousers. (Photos by Leslie Bryce)

[ladyjaneasherr]

New!!

February 21st, 1967. Beautiful Jane Asher in Fifth Avenue, New York, February 21st 1967. Asher was on tour with the Bristol Old Vic Theatre.

Picture 1 and picture 2 ( a new release plus my colourisation) and picture 3: 📸Harry Benson/Daily Express/Hulton Archive/Getty Images.

Picture 4 to 8 Date Book magazine scans from my lovely friend Vio that has allowed me to use! July 1967 issue.

Jane’s here!

DATEBOOK MAKES THE NEW YORK SCENE WITH JANE ASHER. Braving New York's traffic.

The girlfriend of an old friend of ours came to town recently and we showed her a bit of the Big City. When Jane Asher was performing with the Bristol Old Vic in New York, we lunched with her and took her to a pop-art dinner party on her last night in town.

When we picked her up for lunch she was wearing a bulky, horizontal-striped fur coat she had bought the day before. "Red fox?" we asked. "That's what you're supposed to think,"she said. "But it's really opossum!"*

We had lunch in the Italian restaurant in the hotel (Gorham) in which she stayed—it was across the street from the theater. We talked about everything-her acting plans (to do Shaw's "Arms And The Man" when she got back to London), Paul's plans (to write and direct a movie in which she will star—a short experimental film, that is), Paul (she'd just had a letter from him in which he told her that he'd had the whole London Symphony improvising), her refusal to sign up for more than one movie , at a time ("no long-term contracts for me"'), her interest in pop art ("I'm really fascinated by artists like Lichtenstein and Andy Warhol. My brother Peter has a gallery, in London, you know.") We chatted away about New York she think's she loves it, but it will take more time to be certain), George and Patti (she wonders if they'll some day go to live permanently in India), Beatle fans at her performances ("It's so marvelous to see them react to Romeo and Juliet as if it were a contemporary story. Many really don't know how it all ends and they sob and laugh so naturally.")

Jane talked about Paul unseltconsciously when his name came up naturally in the conversation— and it did now and then since we discussed pop music and all the personalities in it. But, the subject of her relationship with Paul did not come up. And we decided not to bring it up since it was obviously a personal matter which she felt was not in order.

(Jane said a New York newspaper interviewed her and then made up a quote "Paul is not exactly my Romeo'' and used it as the headline, although it had nothing at all to do with the interview.)

What's Jane Asher really like?

She's much more beautiful than her pictures would lead you to expect. Her hair is a marvelous orange-red and her skin a milky white. She has delicate features and a lovely Puckish grin which breaks into a wide smile very often. She's shy-but she knows exactly what she wants and is strong enough to fight for it.

Jane was very eager to meet some of the top pop artists and we invited her to a gallery opening, party and dinner the following Saturday night.

She accepted and a few nights later, bedecked in her red minidress, her red coat and her red hair, she made the artscene with us. Jane impressed everybody with her glowing beauty, her quiet intelligence, her gentle humor and her real interest in the world around her.

By this time, we knew for sure why our London friend was so involved with her!

When we said goodbye back at her hotel, we wished her a pleasant tour (she was to leave the next day) and we asked her to give our regards to Paul. She told us to be sure to look her up in London next time we were there.

Gentle Jane waved goodbye to us as the elevator doors closed. Her next stop was to be California and then Denver, where a big surprise would be awaiting her. Turn page for the big surprise.

[meet-the-trapper-tf2]

Yippee in depth(?) post about Trapper

Yaayyy :)

So i’m gonna do a thing that if some information is not something known to people it is a specific colour, so heres the key for that:

Well known stuff

Only known by friends/ some people

Only known by mann co staff(pauling, medic etc)

Private info(not known by anyone unless they are told about it)

Basic info

Name: Ryker Ward(no teammate knows his name, he insists on being called Trapper, please call him that unless stated you can use his name)

Age: 29

Birthday: march 23rd

Birthplace: Quebec, Canada

Mercenary class: Trapper

Combat style: Support

Gender/ sexuality: Trans male, Gay aceflux (spy found out because spy is sneaky and knows stuff about everyone, and medic knows because medic checks up on everyone)

His voice claim!!

Personality

Trapper is usually cold and rude, difficult to warm up to. He doesn’t let people through the walls he put up around him. He is socially awkward and cannot focus on a conversation, usually fidgeting with something in bis pocket or staring off in the distance.

If you do get to know him more, he is more talkative, and friendly but still sarcastic and slightly rude. He keeps distance from people unless he trusts them with his life(rare thing)

He has a large soft spot for small animals especially bugs. He loves his pet bugs with all his heart but keeps it too himself unless showing them off to people.

Trapper deals with anger issues and has a short temper. He usually can control it but can struggle when things go especially bad. Usually resorting to him going to throw axes or go on a long hike.

He has social anxiety and stresses about talking to people often when nobody is around. He finds being around too many people to be suffocating and scary.

It can get so bad that he physically cannot leave his room or speak to anyone at all. This is not common though.

Appearance

Trapper is a 6’6 tall and fairly bulky. He has strong broad shoulders and arms, and a slight dad bod build. He has shoulder length black hair that is shaved at the sides, which he keeps slicked back into a low ponytail when working, and loose when he isn’t.

I actually made some of his outfit/ cosmetics in a picrew:)

He has large hands with short, sometimes dirty nails. He sometimes paints them black.

He normally wears either a black balaclava(sometimes one with a skull pattern on it) with thick goggles with a shiny gray tint. Sometimes a hockey mask with the holes covered by black gauze. He wears a plain black surgical mask with aviators when away from base.

He has a squareish jaw, and roman nose. His eyes are a steely gray, with a slight blue to them,and are tired and downturned, making him look half asleep or bored, with dark eyebags underneath them. He has bushy, unkempt eyebrows which are usually hidden underneath his trapper hat(he always wears it)

He has a scar across the left side of his mouth from his chin to his nostril, and beauty marks on the opposite side of his mouth, and two underneath his left eye, one on each cheek and one on his neck.

He has a septum piercing, two bridge piercings, medusa and snake bites, stretched lobes, industrial and three helix piercings(on each ear) as well as a rook and nostril.

Another picrew of him.

Amazing art by @tf2-nurse-is-dreaming

His usual attire consists of warm thick sweaters, flannels, bomber jackets, trench coats, thick gloves, trapper hats, thick trousers, waterproof boots and tank tops and cargo shorts in warm weather. He often wears band t shirts and camouflage cargos when not working.

Trapper wears his binder 24/7 and usually forgets to take it off(poor him)

Trappers bedroom/ living quarters

inside the room there is a rug made of (hopefully) faux animal fur, and one fluffy rug near his bed. One wall is mostly covered in deer antlers mounted on plates, and plain brown paint, and multiple on another wall with bug enclosures stacked on them housing various types of bugs, with a wallpaper with a wooden texture on it. A bunch of framed and pinned bugs han on the walls closest to his bed with neat writing detailing what type of bug it is and when it was framed. Some glow in the dark stars are stuck around the frames.

Some comfy looking chairs are arranged on top of the fur rug with a coffee table next to them with random bits and bobs for sewing, some knifes, a mug and some sweaters piled on top of it, with some blankets and cushions on the chairs.

His bed in the corner of the room has bug pattern on the duvet, a large beetle cushion on it and a few plushies tucked neatly underneath. A red tartan blanket covers the lower half of the bed and some boots are placed at the bottom alongside a brown wooden chest that is locked.

In another corner some axes are placed on a display rack, and some rifles next to them. Some bear traps are messily left in a pile too.

To one side is a door labelled “bugs” presumably where trapper pins bugs and keeps other bugs.

Random info/ hobbies/ likes

Trapper is autistic!! (Me too buddy me too)

He masks a lot around his teammates, but feels more comfortable around some

He has a few vocal stims, and ofter echoes what people say if it catches his attention.

Some stims: cracking joints, whistling, biting at his gloves/ shirt collars, flapping hands(mostly when excited or stressed) and random jerking movements in his neck(when overstimulated), tapping/knocking on surfaces with his knuckles.

He has bruises on his thighs due to hitting them when he gets stressed, upset or has a panic attack/Meltdown.

Some vocals stims are: random repetition of others words, whistling, metal vocals(he practices this), swearing in french, mimicking the sounds of doves(medics fault), popping(like pop cat), and making cracking noises(like wood being split open) and imitating crickets chirping.

He carries tiny handmade plushies in his pockets because of sensory issues. He has made a frog, axolotl and salamander and rat plushie that he swaps on the daily.

He owns a bunch of weighted blankets, which help with his anxiety, and when he is understimulated.

Enough alcohol makes him insanely paranoid and anxious, making him have panic attacks or meltdowns.(it is noted on his file to limit his alcohol intake)

Trapper makes their own beef jerky, with a special family recipe marinade, usually snacks on it in battle or when out at night. He sometimes shares with sniper and engineer.

Trapper really likes coffee, but puts lots of milk and sugar into it. He loves the taste just not the bitter part.

He’s a good cook, and often makes food to share with the others.

He straight up eats the sauce from those dip pots you get with food(gecko style if you understand that)

He sews and diys clothes for fun and offers to fix any clothes for other mercs.

He goes on walks almost every evening/night, and enjoys the quiet(most of the time)

He keeps books on bugs and entomology, he reads them often, as well as horror fiction and sci fi novels(think stephen king)

Trapper regularly practices axe throwing and target practice with his rifle. It helps him cool off and calm down, or just pass time.

He speaks French Canadian(fluently), english(fluently), some russian and dutch. (I don’t know any of these except English so if i use any i’m using a translator so i am sorry for any wrong translations)

His music taste consists of punk and various genres of metal. His favourite bands are cannibal corpse, immolation, fit for an autopsy, PUP, schizophrenia, gutrectomy, powerwolf, green day and dying fetus.

Used to play acoustic guitar in school, stopped playing so often after he turned 25. He knows a lot of beatles music on guitar, he keeps it in his backroom of his bedroom. Plays at night as to not disturb others.

This kind of music

He thinks he can dance, but all he can do is a shitty punk two step.

He makes many Canadian foods/snacks in base for the others, but his favourites are poutine, beavertails, butter tarts and smoked meat. Usually he shares with sniper and demoman but anyone is allowed to have some. When tired/ low on spoons he makes kraft mac n cheese.

His family used to travel across canada but eventually settled in the middle of nowhere in alberta.

He gets flustered super easily if someone uses any term of endearment for him (call him darling and he will melt on the spot.)

A bunch of issues with parents(with being trans and everything, it’s included in records , he just doesn’t talk about the problems with anyone, speaks highly of his father to make people think he doesn’t have issues)

He sometimes wears a black knitted beanie instead of his trapper hat but it is a rare sight.

Unashamed chocolate milkshake enjoyer.

He used to play hockey when he was a kid.

Throws axes and knifes for sport, fun and helps with anger issues.

He smokes weed, not all the time but when he his anxiety gets really bad. It helps him relax and cool off.

He sleeps with plushies. And is terrified of other mercs finding out

He partakes in vulture culture.

He is deathly afraid of needles. Complete trypanophobia(i think thats the phobia of needles?)

Mercenary things

His weapons would inclue

Main: Hunting rifle or shotgun

Secondary: throwing axes or splitting axes, maybe using knifes as an alternative too.

Third: bear trap, tripwires, motion sensors, pitfalls etc.

His main tactic would be to slow the enemy and finish them off with his rifle or axes from behind, or set up traps for his teammates to take advantage of.

Relationships with Teammates:

Spy: @medic-and-spy (tag: sneaky boys club)

Trapper calls him: spookers,

He gets along fine with spy, but he thinks of him as pretentious and prissy, with his suits and fancy everything. He trusts spy to not tell the others of his secret though. Kind of a father figure to trapper(he keeps this a secret)

Soldier: @eagle-head-charge (tag: cold Liberty)

Soldier calls him: Goggles, Checkers, Buck

Trapper calls him: Boots, freedom fighter, Solly, Mon soldat, Helmet

Soldier is very good friends with trapper, and they often hang out together. Trapper likes to talk about his bugs to soldier and listen to his war stories.

Demoman: @red-demo-tf2 (tag:

Drinking buddies)

Trapper calls him: Scotsman, bomber

Demoman and trapper get on good, sharing drinks(according to demo trapper makes a mean drink). They have almost a brotherly relationship and enjoy eachothers presence. Trapper worrys about demo’s drinking habits a lot though.

Medic: @the-red-medic (Tag: Cold storage)

Trapper calls him: Doc, Sir

Medic gives him the major creeps. But is okay to talk to sometimes. He offered to give Trapper top surgery once or twice but was turned down, due to the medics history of experimenting on his teammates.

Trapper stays clear of medic most of the time, unless necessary to talk to him.

Heavy: (Tag: Cold weather)

Trapper calls him: Big guy, Muscles

Heavy reminds trapper of his father sometimes. tall and strong, but also a kind heart. He enjoys talking about books with heavy sometimes, when he is not taking care of his gun.

Pyro: @lord-of-pyroland (Tag: Hot n Cold)

Trapper calls them: sparky, smokey, Firestarter,

Pyro likes trapper, they see him as a brother figure like demoman does, but trapper finds them mildly off putting. He likes sitting with pyro and showing them bugs sometimes though.

Scout: @bonkbonkbonkboinkbonk (Tag: Quicktrap)

Trapper calls him: speedster, the Flash/Flash

Scout is like an annoying little brother to trapper, but slightly more tolerable. Scout finds trapper intimidating, due to his size compared to his, but finds it fun to watch him throw axes from time to time to time. They get along fine when scout isn’t being irritating.

Engineer: @rengineer (Hats N helmets)

Trapper call him: Engie, Goggles, Wrench,

They don’t talk much unless sharing snacks, or working together in battle. Trapper appreciates the work he does around base and in battle, finds him good company when it’s quiet, although he feels awkward just hanging around his workshop in silence. Trapper wouldn’t admit to it but he enjoys engineers accent, its nice to listen to.

Sniper: @the-red-sniper (tag: Outback Hiking)

Trapper calls him: Snipes,

Sniper is a good friend to trapper, he trusts sniper. Sniper enjoys trappers presence, they share tips on sniping/hunting and have gone on a camping trip together once.

Scott: @ask-that-radiohost-engie

Trapper likes his voice and thinks of him as a good friend. Enjoys sharing his music with Scott, even if its weird and heavy stuff.

Red Nurse: @tf2-nurse-is-dreaming (tag: Bugs inc)

Trapper calls him: Ears, Doc, pup/puppy,

Nurse tends to dote on trapper in checkups, and trapper thinks of him as a good friend, usually coming to the medbay to talk about bugs or anything in general.

They keep up a professional relationship when working though.

Red chef: @your-red-chef

Chef calls him: Buck

Trapper calls her: Ma’am

Trapper finds her very irritating due to her talking a lot. He thinks she doesn’t take her job seriously.

Blu chef: @chef-from-blu

Trapper looks up to ivan a lot. He thinks of him as a father figure. Even though he’s on the opposite team he is good friends with him.

The Therapist: @wastelandtherapist

Trapper calls her: Ma’am, Miss,

Trapper respects helena quite a lot, but hasn’t picked up the courage to talk to her about his anxiety. But he thinks helena is a nice and friendly woman.

Blu sniper: @sniped-from-behind

[Trapper did not give any comment on him.]

(If anyone wants added here just ask!)

This might get updated at random yippee:)

[fluffyzoey]

The Corpse in the Coffee Shop

Emma Matthews-Perkins doesn’t expect to walk into a crime scene upon making a late-night trip to Beanies to retrieve an item she left behind, and she definitely doesn’t expect her least favourite coworker and a woman she knows Zoey hates to be at the heart of said crime, but that’s exactly what happens. AKA: things get heated in Beanies and Gerald fucking dies.

“What the hell…!”

Emma dropped her bag on the floor, too stunned to even move. Behind the counter of pastries, her coworker hunched something large and wet and bloody, oozing scarlet onto the tile floor. 

“Emma!” Zoey’s face went bright red as she frantically scrambled to throw the body bag into the supply closet. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear!”

“Yeah, then what is it?” Emma’s hand tensed around her phone. She was debating whether to call 911, Nora, or maybe Paul to come pick her up. “Because it sure as hell looks like you killed someone.”

“It wasn’t entirely my fault!” Zoey hissed through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, you had an accomplice, fantastic. Listen, I don’t know who that is…was? I don’t know what you’re doing but you can’t…do it here.” 

“I know, I know.” Zoey slammed the closet door shut. “But I can’t hide him at home, Hailey would pass out if she found him somehow, and Lin- my friend thought it would be smart to drag him to Beanies, toss him in the bin outside for collection.” There was an awkward silence between them as Zoey glanced around the shop, which was usually shut tight at this hour.  “We’re closed, by the way! Why are you here?”

“I left my jacket here, damn.” Emma shifted awkwardly in place. “And why the hell would that be smart? What if Nora found out? You’d be fired and arrested! Actually, I don’t know why I’m not calling the cops on you right now!”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “No. Emma, don’t. Emma, please, I’m begging you, I need this job.”

“I don’t know if I want to work with a murderer! Who was that, by the way? Your boyfriend?”

“Sam? God, no, that was last week, this is, well…”

She pulled the door open again. The man’s body was uncovered now: he was pudgy, not obese, but not healthy either. He was wearing a white button down, now stained crimson down the front from a clear stab wound, and a pair of khakis caked in blood. He was balding, but what hair, both on his hair and his face, was left, was a sort of reddish brown. His wire-framed glasses were broken and crooked, his greenish-brown eyes glassy and pooled over.

“Zoey…”

“Yes, Emma, that’s exactly who you think it is, it wasn’t my idea but he…he needed to go.”

“Doesn’t he have a family? A wife and kids?”

“Yeah, well sure.” Zoey pushed the door closed again. “But-“

There was a pounding at the door, and Emma whipped around to see a blonde woman slip inside, tucking something small and metallic into the pocket of her thick fur coat. She recognized her; this was someone of status, someone she’d seen around town toting hundreds of dollars’ worth of clothing and food in designer bags. This was Honey Queen material.

“I’m sorry I distrusted you, Miss Chambers.” She spoke with a loud, posh voice, not unlike royalty Emma had seen in movies. The closer she got, the easier it was for Emma to take notice of her. She didn’t seem to notice Emma, perhaps too lost in guilt, or…pleasure, even?

“Yeah, yeah, can it.” Zoey grumbled. “We have a visitor.”

The blonde looked up at Emma and immediately brought a hand to her mouth in a gesture of shock and unease. That quickly faded, replaced by determination.

“If you so much as utter a word about this, I will make your life a living hell.” She wasn’t any taller than Emma, yet Emma could feel the sense of pride emanating from this woman. It made her want to shrink into the corner. Emma wasn’t one to back down from a fight, even in youth she would spend afternoons in detention after “incidents” in school, but this woman meant business. A matter of class, really. 

“Back off. Emma’s had her fair share of illegal activities. Does the smoke club ring any bells?” Zoey fumbled around behind the counter, pulling out all sorts of cleaning supplies. “Or ‘Perky’s Buds’?”

“Selling weed is a lot different than actual fucking murder.” Emma pointed out. “Even I wouldn’t-“

“Now that you’re here, you’ll either help us, or stay quiet.” The blonde snapped. “It’s an unlucky day, fate forcing both Chambers and her little friend upon me.”

“She is not my friend.” Emma and Zoey growled in unison. The blonde frowned disapprovingly. 

“It doesn’t matter. We’re all friends, for tonight. Miss…?”

“Matthews. Mrs. Matthews, actually.” 

“For now.” The blonde’s voice darkened. “I suppose you know who I am, then?” 

Emma’s thoughts failed her. Though she knew the woman was one of the so-called fat cats of Hatchetfield, she couldn’t but a name to the pale, unforgiving face. “I don’t.”

“Linda Monroe, president of the Hatchetfield Boating Society.” There was a great sense of pride. Emma felt that she enjoyed introducing herself. “Linda Murry, now, I think.”

“And who’s the man in the closet?”

Linda went even paler than usual. “That…would be my husband. Ex-husband, I suppose.”

Zoey went over to the door and threw it open, letting the cadaver topple onto the ground with a dull thud. “Supplies are in the back. Emma, now that you’re here, are you gonna help?”

Emma was too paralyzed by the fear of what “help” meant in this scenario to even lift a finger. Mentally, she was berating herself: Why didn’t you just call someone, anyone? Your life could be on the line, Emma, you fucking idiot! 

Zoey was already hard at work. Before Emma’s eyes, the body of Gerald Monroe was being taken apart bit by bit. Zoey hacked, Linda supervised, and a balding head rolled into the cabinet that held up the espresso machine. 

“Why did you…how did you…” Emma stuttered. “Is he really…”

“What do you think, Mrs. Matthews?” Linda turned to her, ignoring the carnage unfolding at her feet. “Yes, he’s dead. He cheated on me! Ten times, if you can believe. I don’t know how I’ve been so blind and stupid. Shame on you, Gerald.”

“You weren’t exactly loyal either.” Zoey quipped, tossing a dismembered hand over her head carelessly. 

“Holding hands with another woman isn’t cheating. What Gerald did is, and he’s paying the price now, isn’t he?”

Emma gulped. She was in over her head now, she knew she should have split when she had a chance. Now, body parts and blood covered the tile, Zoey was covered in a layer of guts and gore so thick she looked like a lioness after a hunt. 

“Throw them in the bin,” Linda instructed. “And then we can wipe up and never speak of this again.” 

Emma spoke up. “Are you two seriously not concerned about the police finding out? Zoey, you’re dating a cop!”

“And if you knew I was dating Sam, you’d know that he and his goons wouldn’t suspect me of a thing. In fact, Sam himself is dead and gone, I did that, and here I am, continuing the streak.” She panted, pulling out a Clorox wipe and scrubbing her palms. “No one is going to guess a thing, unless…you tell them.”

Suddenly, Emma felt a bloody hand shove her up against the wall. Zoey had flown to her feet, and there was a knife to her throat, and Zoey was staring at her, eyes wild, hair unkempt. “Do you know how easy it would be for me to slip some rat poison into your husband’s fucking black coffee? I’ve proven before that I can get away with murder. Don’t even think about ratting me out.”

Emma was painfully aware of every part of her body, every vein dragging every blood vessel to her heart, pounding like a hammer against a nail. From the corner of her eye she could see Linda looking at her with a satisfied grin. This was the weakest Emma had ever felt. 

Zoey withdrew the knife, but kept it brandished in one hand. “Got it?”

Emma nodded. “I’ll help clean up. I open tomorrow.”