#run don’t walk if u want a green girls sticker

[thenerdyalchemist]

Store update is live!

[jee-ns]

(i) ladybugs. // kjn. // one-shot.

you couldn’t do anything. it was a curse you thought. all these years you’ve been through you’ve been waiting for this day. but what’s stopping you? what if you don’t want to get better. what if you wanted to stay this way. she was a miracle. that should’ve happened a long time ago.

note : this one took a long time and frankly i didn’t proof read it. and half of it might be confusing but please just hang on. i hope it’s good enough LOL. and we’ve been innactive for awhile. yeah srry abt that. OH and i started stanning gfriend idk why its kinda pathetic so im just saying i might have a gfriend fic coming up so be ready. - admin 🗣

warnings : violence, abusive behaviour, injury, blood.

words : 1.1k

next : (ii) ladybugs 

“do you need anything else master?”

you heard yehan shouted from down the stairs. her voice ringing trough the wooden walls with worn out paint on it. “no need yehan!” you shouted back out of the small crack of the door that you made. you closed it after you heard light footsteps scattering to the kitchen.

sighing while closing your eyes. i hope i wont die of boredom. you thought. there’s nothing much to do here it’s a typical suburban house in a small village. you could find it anywhere.

you sat down on the bed and wrote a letter to mother. saying that you’ve arrived safely at grandmas. but a little disappointed that she wasn’t here to greet you. you didn’t mind. that was the least she could do after taking you in before the surgery. you thanked her for keeping you in great hands.

you took a good look around the room. yehan said this was mother’s old room. the room was filled with books and old posters of some band. the walls having some barbie stickers and old photos with friends. the runned down colour of the sage green paint on the walls. you couldn’t believe your mom was into trendy stuff back then. she always seemed like a nerd who would always stay cooped up in her room with her head in a book.

the roomed looked neatly cleaned and you couldn’t complained. the sun rays through the sheer curtain gained your attention. you made your way to the window and your eyes were met with a tree. the bark has a camouflage pattern comprised of gray-brown outer bark.

‘a nice place to have a picnic’

-

the sun rays beamed through your sheet curtains. the morning breeze passed through it. you woke up to the sound of vacuum cleaning the downstair.

rubbing your eyes slowly you took a whiff of that fresh morning air in the village. your first night here wasn’t that rough. you were pretty comfortable to be honest. you wouldn’t mind staying her forever.

your feet touched the heated wooden floor with a creek as you got up to go to the toilet and brush your teeth before breakfast. as you made your way downstairs you admired the photos that was hung on the wall. there was photos of grandma and grandpa. one with mother when she was younger, and many more.

“good morning! what are you going to do today hmm?”

yehan greeted cheerfully as she placed a plate of eggs and bacon. you thanked her before setting your agenda for today. “well i just want to walk around and be familiar with the place, you know?” she nodded in understandment before smiling and going outside to water the plants.

after you finished your scrumptious breakfast you went outside and saw her trimming the bushed over the windows. “do you need help?” you offered. she paused and looked back at you, declining your offer.

you nodded and took a walk around the garden. the fences had overgrown bushes over them for privacy. there was some flower gardens here and there. peculiarly there was a single sycamore tree amidst it all.

your mouth twitched, turning into a small smile as you studied the tree. the light green maple like leaves danggling as the wind blows them. some falling off, some holding onto dear life.

a thought popped into your head as you were admiring the trees’ beauty. ‘i should grab a book and read it under the tree and do something productive for once’ you thought as you scurried back inside excitedly. atleast do something before you pass on.

you made your way to the tree with a small smile on your face. the wind grazes amongst your locks as you sat down in the big roots that over grown the ground.

after settling yourself, you got to page 4 until someone interrupted your chances of being productive. “what you readin”a soft voice said coming from a branch above you.

you looked up in shock and sat up straight ��oh well you know the great gatsby” you said sheepishly with a shrug and motioning to your book. she smiled down at you and scoffed “booringg” she said while rolling the g’s.

“well what would you read then” your eyebrows furrowed as you challenged her. her brown locks and cat eyes really grasped your attention. her white and georgette dress dangling down to her legs makes her more cunning.

“i wouldn’t ... and you’re a kid go have fun. play with other kids or something.” she motioned around the garden. you looked back to where she was motioning and said “im- well i-im not interested in those stuff” with a hand on your nape and a shrug once again.

she doesn’t question tour stuttering “huh” she answered shortly after, while looking of at the garden field before asking “what are you doing here anyway. i haven’t seen you around.” you froze for a moment. why should u talk to  a stranger about your business here. a really really pretty stranger. you could either tell the truth and lie. you went with the latter

“im here to visit my grandma” she hums in understanding before jumping of the branch and landing right beside you. she sat on the tree trunk beside yours and grins. her gummy smile showing making you flustered.

she gasps and yours eyerbows furrowed “don’t move” she says as the cupped your cheeks. by now you’re already panicking. was this how it’s going to happen. under a tree in your grandma’s garden with a pretty stranger. your first kiss here?

you felt her finger slowly glide across your eyebags. you held a breath as she retreats her hands back, without her doing anything you were implying she would do. you opened your eyes slowly as if a ghost will come right at you. only to find her grinning while looking down at her pinkie finger.

“this little guy was on your face.” she said with an ear to ear smile as she showed you the small ladybug. you looked down at it and was flustered. she looked up at you and a worried look takes over her face. “are you okay? your face is red.” yes it’s red from embarrassment. i couldn’t believe i actually thought you were going to kiss me. i feel so ashamed. you thought.

you looked away and waved her off trying to calm down. “no no im fine” you looked back at her with a small smile. there was a small pause before a thunderous sound broke the silence.

you looked up and the sky was all gray with small droplets trickling down from it. you looked back at the girl. she was about to say something before "y/n get back inside it's going to rain!" yehan called out of worry for you.

[dawningofdrag]

Hiya; I would like to humbly request, Angst; 20. Might be any s13 ship, but preferably Rosnali.

I love your drabbles so much💖

well this took a while huh !! lmao thank u puddle for requesting !! u are an absolute dear so i really tried my best to make sure this rosenali angst was decent, i hope u love it <3 this is also uploaded on ao3 in case u wanna give it some love there

send me a number and a category and i’ll write something for you!

20. “Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you still love me.”

-

Nothing is more deafening than the beep of a car as it’s engines turn off. The heavy silence that sits uncomfortably on your shoulders, paired with the eeriness of the early hours of the morning, streets barren and dark, nothing but the occasional gust of wind grazing against the rolled up tinted car windows. It creeps up on you the longer you sit in it, soaking the carpets and drowning you in it’s heavy tension before you give in and open the door to finally breathe again. Rosé absolutely hates the feeling, despises it even, but she keeps finding herself in it again and again.

Rosé is cold, really cold, bare legs and arms wrapped by a blanket she knew from experience Denali kept in her backseat. The cold midwestern air causes her teeth to chatter and a shiver to run up her spine despite the old car’s desperate attempt at heating up the interior, forcing her to shake off the bitter temperature that plagues her skin. She winces at the migraine already creeping into the innervations of her mind, the four vodka sodas she had downed an hour ago losing its effect on her usually fleeting mind and allowing the thoughts she initially drank away to resurface and come back at full force. She keeps finding herself in a situation where she needs saving, sitting on the sticky pavement outside the bar she frequents unable to take three steps more, like a damsel in distress waiting to be saved from the strangers trying to give her a ride home and her phone running on three percent.

This is the third time Rosé finds herself like this. Drunk and incoherent and panicking as she runs through a mental list of people who wouldn’t hate her if she called them up at four in the morning to pick her up at a bar in the middle of town on a weekend. There’s Olivia who’d probably even offer to walk her to her apartment door, Lagoona who’d tell her off the whole ride home, and Jan who though is always up to help, is so bad at driving she’d throw up before she even got to her apartment. Rosé scrolls through all the eligible options that litter her contacts, but somehow from the moment she opens her near-dead phone to the second she ends the call she finds herself blacking out, finding herself waiting for Denali’s Prius with that tiny dent in the rear end and her stupid pride bumper sticker they had bought on a trip to New Orleans three years ago.

She doesn’t know why her drunk self somehow still manages to crawl back to her, but she does. It’s the third time it happens in the span of two weeks, and she is extremely humiliated by the questionable choice when the late morning comes, and Denali isn’t even supposed to pick up. But she does. She always does and maybe that’s why Rosé keeps calling her.

Every single time she calls her name through the heavy bass blasting through the club or with the echo of the dirty bathroom stalls, she answers her call like she’s been waiting for it and is by the front door of whatever club she finds herself in in fifteen minutes. It’s how Rosé keeps ending up in Denali’s passenger seat with goosebumps wrapping around her pale arms, worn and thin fleece blanket haphazardly covering her legs.

“You don’t have to keep picking me up, you know.”

Rosé attempts to cut the tense silence that suffocates the dark interior of the younger girl’s car, the lacking sound of a running engine causing the ringing in her ears to grow in volume. Her green eyes don’t even dare look to her left to meet the blonde’s heavy gaze, knowing just how well it’ll break her if she does. The tension rises to her feet, soles of her stiletto heels sticking on the rubber carpet and planting themselves there. Rosé feels as if she had been glued to her seat, arm not even daring to reach for the door handle. So many questions accompany her growing headache, mind begging for answers as if her life depended on it, but she decides against it.

“I know,” Denali mutters under her breath along with a dragged exhale, cutting her train of thought short. The blonde glances at her lap before her eyes shoot back up to look at the empty road in front of them, bare lips pursed like she had to hold back. “I just wanted to.”

The second half of her statement does nothing to ease the overbearing thoughts that are slowly eating Rosé alive. The restraint she has to practice on herself starts to prick her legs, the flooding tension that wants to swallow her whole reaches up to her calves and causing an unsettling feeling to make itself comfortable in her stomach. She wants to scream, meet the younger girl’s dark eyes and cup her cheeks, let the tears she cries in the comfort of her bedroom finally run free down her face as she begs for the answers to her questions she can never seem to figure out. Why do you keep picking me up when I call? Why do you still help me after everything I’ve done? Why do you still look at me when I can’t even look at you?

The uncomfortable feeling that plagues her soul rises up to her chest, filling her lungs and taking her hands and threatening to pull her under. She picks on the chipped nail polish that paints her fingers, projecting that ever growing anxiety onto the bright colors that glow under the warm yellow car light. Rosé feels the younger woman’s kind eyes bear holes into the side of her face, and it almost drives her man. The silence rings in her ears like a siren until the deafening sound is stopped with the simple whisper of her name, finally mustering up the courage to push her past the boundary she had been teetering off of.

“Rosie-”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you still love me.”

“I don’t.”

Denali purses her lips the second the words slip out of her mouth, knuckles turning white as her tan fingers wrap tight around the steering wheel. Rosé watches intently with tired eyes, the sinking feeling crawling up to her shoulders, grazing her neck, finally swallowing her whole. The lump on her throat grows in size, words that so desperately want to roll off of her red stained lips suffocate and trip over each other in an attempt to escape, and yet not one does.

Rosé knows what Denali looks like when she’s thinking. When the gears in her head are turning at a rapid speed she could never keep up with. She catches the subtle twitching of her bare pale lips and her dead set gaze on the uninteresting scene playing out past the windshields, the heavy anticipation aching each muscle in her body crawling closer and closer to her pain threshold. Her body begs for more than those two stupid words she refuses to accept are true, arms tempted to reach out and take her hand and tell her about how she’s realized how much she still needs her-

The blonde leans over to her side of the car, hand reaching out to unlock the door on her side. She doesn’t even give her a glance as she sits back in her chair, back relaxing against the grey nylon-covered cushions of the driver’s seat.

“I can’t, okay?” Denali chokes out, and Rosé could barely make out the glossy sheen that accompanies her defeated gaze. “Just- get out of my car.”

[petty-revenge-stories]

Throw a cup of ice at my head after almost hitting me, okay. I’ll tell your mom when I randomly to run into a week later.

So. I 22F was driving home from Kroger a couple weeks ago, and was turning right on a very busy road. The light was green for me, and even had the green left signal, so I know nobody was in the right to have almost hit me. I get mid way through my turn and this red honda almost slammed right into my driver door. He ran the red light and I instantly slammed my brakes. My car is old and beat up as fuck, so it barely stopped and literally was smoking from the tires because of how abruptly I had to stop. Normally I honk my horn at asshole drivers, but I was too shocked to even do anything. I had lost a friend to a nasty wreck years ago and I immediately froze up thinking about what had happened.

Well. This lady in a red minivan was not too shocked to do nothing, and immediately began laying on her horn and screaming at the guy in the honda, who got out of his car (we were all at a red light now and I was still far behind him because I was honestly scared of his driving) and started pointing his hand in the form of a gun shape at this lady screaming “I’ll fucking kill you bitch swear to god” said “get out of the fucking car” etc. I was completely horrified at this point. While he was distracted, I did snap a pic of the license plate. He got back in the car and began driving right next to the lady screaming the whole time. She cut over two lanes and tried to turn right on another street and I turned right behind her, I saw she had two small children in the backseat and wanted to follow her to let her know I had his plate number. I didn’t even realize this guy was following both of us.

The lady and I both came to a WIDE two lane stop sign and she got ready to turn right and I began telling her “Hey! I have his plates!!” and out of fucking NOWHERE this guy flies between us in the middle of the lane lines and chucked a full cup of ice at ME??? He then took off and the lady flew after him. At that point I was too scared to follow and turned right instead. I pulled over and called the local police to let them know that there was a guy recklessly driving and threatening a woman and her children, and that he had thrown ice at my head in traffic. They took all the info including the plates and let me know they’d be in contact.

One week later, I was at Burger King getting food in the same side of town and I see the red honda. I looked at the photo I had and knew it was the same one. My car is very identifiable because of the stickers so I got ready to just leave before he saw, and to my surprise, a middle aged blonde woman got out of the car. I asked her if this was her car, It was. she said her name was on the title and asked why. I said “do you have a son? Because a young man with dark hair and a beard threw ice at me while chasing a woman and her children through traffic.” she said she didn’t have a son and started to walk away. she instantly came back and asked if a younger girl with pink hair was with him and I said yes. I remember them both screaming at the minivan lady. She came over to the car and asked if I had a license plate number and I showed her. I also told her I had made a report because I was worried for the lady he was fighting with in the minivan.

Turns out. This is her daughter and her “lazy ass” boyfriend. She tells me that she only lets them drive the car in Harrison (the town she works) while she is working so they can do doordash and pay for groceries at their house. They are both grown and live rent free. I told her where it happened which was in a whole other town, and she began fuming. Going on about how she’s told her daughter not to let this guy drive that car, she’s told them not to smoke cigs in the car before, she’s found cig butts and blunts in her car and the boyfriend has actually wrecked before and hit somebody resulting in the Mom having to deal with it because the car is in her name. She tells me that was it for her. I asked what she meant and she held up a finger to tell me to hold on, and dialed a phone number. This lady started screaming her head off to her daughter telling her it’s time to pack her shit up, and the boyfriends and get the fuck out of her house. She told them they had till 10pm to be gone or she’d be coming back with the same police I made a report to, and that she knows they threw a mcdonald’s cup of ice at somebody, and almost hurt another woman and her children.

I was in complete shock. I apologized for having told the police since it’s her car and she said she didn’t care and was glad I did, that she’d deal with it later. Moral of the story? Don’t drive your girlfriends mom’s car without her permission, almost wreck, assault someone in traffic, and continue to recklessly drive.

TL:DR - a guy almost hit me with his car, threw a cup of ice at me and threatened a woman and her children for honking. i ran into his girlfriends mom driving the same car and told her, and she kicked them both out of her house.

(source) story by (/u/thebridgexx)

[bicepsie]

Rainbow Scavenger Hunt

Day 1: Related to Pride

@buddiefirstkissweek

Relationship: Buck & Eddie

Word Count: 2700 

“I need 2 volunteers to do the scavenger hunt with the kids.” Cap tapped a pan against his clipboard as he looked around the room.

“Eddie and I’ll do it!” Buck raised his hand. 

Cap nodded, writing down their names. 

Eddie stared at the side of Buck’s head, waiting for him to turn his head. After a few moments, Eddie grew impatient and he nudged Buck with his elbow. “Why’d you do that?”

“Would you rather be on cleanup duty?”

“Good point.” He definitely didn’t want to clean after a bunch of kids and their parents. Or taking down decorations. Eddie shuddered. 

*** 

Kids ran around the station, yelling and laughing, chasing each other. A few stuck with their parents, mostly the smaller ones. The grown ups, mostly parents and a few grandparents, observed from the distance. They stood in pairs or groups talking and enjoying the pastry the local bakery so generously donated to the fire station. 

Cap stood by the door, looking around the station with a small smile.  

Buck spotted Eddie leaning against the wall by the fire extinguisher and he sauntered over. “I love Pride!” He leaned against the wall, his biceps touching Eddie’s. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiled and gently elbowed Buck.  

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet balloons floated on the ceiling, their rainbows strings hanging just low enough for grownups to reach them. A huge LGBTQ flag hung from the balcony, next to each color He had written down its meaning white capital letters.

His eyes landing on Christopher, his smile brightened up the whole room. He was talking to a boy his age, gesturing wildly. 

“Who’s Christopher talking to?”

“Ben, his new friend.” Eddie glanced toward Buck. 

“Why haven’t I heard about this new friend?” Buck frowned. “Can he be trusted?” 

“He’s 9.” Eddie shook his head. “He goes to the same school as Christopher. They really hit it off.”

Buck stared at this Ben kid, he looked normal. But so did most serial killer. “What do you know about the kid?”

Eddie chuckled. “His parents just moved here, they’re both in the military. Christopher’s been talking about him all week. He’s so excited to have a close friend.”

“I don’t trust him.” Buck crossed his arms. Who just moves somewhere and instantly makes friends? “Maybe I should talk to him, find out what his intentions are with Christopher.” Buck pushed away from the wall and took a step forward. 

Eddie grabbed his forearm. “Aren’t you overreacting? I should be the one worrying.”

Buck narrowed his eyes at Eddie. “Why aren’t you?”

“Because he’s 9. They’re just kids. Besides, I’m just glad Christopher made a friend.”

“He’s got friends.”

“You don’t count.”

Cap got their attention from across the room and waved them over. 

“I wasn’t talking about me.” Buck pouted as they walked toward Cap. 

 Fire truck sirens blared around the station. Kids and grown ups stopped what they were doing and stared at the truck with flashing lights. 

Cap turned off the sirens then jumped out of the fire truck. He greeted everyone, welcoming them to Station 118 Rainbow Scavenger Hunt 2020. Rainbow Scavenger Hunt would have been enough. Everyone knew this was station 118 and the year was 2020. But when Buck had proposed they shortened the name to Rainbow Scavenger Hunt, he was outvoted. And now a huge banner, which he had to paint, hung above the fire station entrance. 

Cap instructed the kids to pair up for scavenger hunt and hold their partner’s hand. Ben grabbed Christopher’s hand right away. What if Christopher wanted to be paired with someone else? This Ben kid was very presumptuous, Buck had every reason to be suspicious. 

Leaning in Christopher whispered in Ben’s ear, making both boys laugh loudly. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie clapped Buck on the shoulder, “you’ll find another partner.”

“I thought I’d be me and Chris against you.” It was a perfect plan. Buck would help Christopher win. And they’d both make fun of Eddie for losing.  

Eddie chuckled. “Well, seems like you’re stuck with me now.”

Glancing around the station, Buck noticed everyone was already paired up and Eddie was right, he was stuck with him. Not the worst person to be stuck with. Buck’s lips stretched into a soft smile. 

*** 

“I’m RED and big with 4 wheels.” Eddie read from the first clue card. 

“Uh…” Buck scratched his head, putting on a show for the kids standing next to them. “Eddie, what’s red?”

Eddie spun around, seeing a few of the older kids already searching around the fire truck. “I don’t know. Flowers? A car?” 

“It’s the fire truck!” A little boy yelled and ran toward the fire truck. 

“A fire truck!” Buck hit his forehead and frowned. 

While the rest of the kids ran toward the fire truck, Eddie stayed behind. “Did it hurt?” He smirked, watching a red palm print appear on Buck’s forehead. 

“When I fell from heaven? Yes.” Buck winked.

Eddie shook his head. Buck was a giant kid himself. He’d be a great dad someday.

Joining the kids, Buck and Eddie searched around the truck. Buck crawled on top of the truck while Eddie circled around it, checking all the sides for any hidden clues. 

A girl with rainbow bow in her blond hair pulled an orange card from behind the wheel. She sprinted to her partner and grabbed her hand, pulling her away. They whispered and giggled as they tried to hide their orange card.

Buck jumped from the truck and stood next to Eddie as they watched the rest of the kids pull orange cards from behind the truck’s tires. 

*** 

I’m an ORANGE fruit. The next clue read. 

Kids quickly figured out the answer was orange, but they had trouble finding them. Buck and Eddie let them run around for a few minutes, searching for oranges.  

A boy and a girl stood next to the ambulance and stared at their card. The girl stomped her foot and crossed her arms. “There are no oranges here!”

“Psst.” Eddie leaned over the hood of the ambulance. “Wanna work together? We can’t find any oranges also.”

Buck peered from behind Eddie. The little girl glanced to her brother who had a giant smile on his face and was nodding enthusiastically. 

“Fine. But only for this clue.” She jutted out her chin. 

When Buck had children of his own, he wanted his daughter to be just like this adorable little girl, strong-willed and fearless. And his son to be like Christopher. His eyes sought out Christopher. He was standing by as Ben looked around the gym equipment. A kid who thought to look for oranges in the gym was definitely not good enough to be friends with his Christopher. 

“Where do you think they’re hiding the oranges?” Buck asked the girl.

“You’re a firefighter, shouldn’t you know that?” the little girl stared at him. 

“Right.” Buck looked at Eddie with wide eyes. “Eddie, where do we keep oranges?”

“With the rest of the fruit?”

“Where’s that?”

“Kitchen!” The siblings yelled at once.

“That’s right!” Eddie shouted and pointed toward the stairs. “The kitchen’s that way.” 

The kids ran, Buck and Eddie forgotten.

“That’s the thanks we get. I’m never working with them again.” Buck crossed his arms and stomped his foot.

Eddie chuckled and patted his back. A brief touch, but Buck felt the heat of Eddie’s palm on his back a long time after Eddie pulled away.    

“I can’t believe we keep oranges in the kitchen!” Eddie said louder than necessary as they walked past a groups of kids. 

*** 

Follow the suns. 

This one was easy. Kids had no problem following the sun stickers on the floor. 

Hen did amazing job with leading the kids all over the upper floor, through the kitchen, around the couch, and all the way to the balcony where Hen and Maddie waited to help the kids slide down the poll. 

“Need any help getting down?” Maddie smiled at Buck.

Buck jumped on the poll, saluted, and effortlessly slid down  

“Show off.” Eddie muttered. 

“Come on, Eddie. What’s taking so long? We’ve got a scavenger hunt to win!”

So cocky. Eddie shook his head, smiling. He grabbed the poll and swung onto it. “See you later.” He slid down, his feet landing on the concrete floor with a loud thud. 

“Great job. 10 out of 10.” Chimney clapped.

“Hey! Why does he get a 10 and I got a 6?” Buck brushed against Eddie’s arms.

“Perfect landing. You fumbled yours.” Chimney pulled a green card from his pocket. “Your next clue.”

“But I slid down with only one hand. I deserve extra points for that!” 

“Better luck next time, Buck.” Chimney pushed the card toward them.

Buck and Eddie reached for the card at the same time, their hand brushing for a moment before they pulled away and the card sailed to the floor. 

*** 

GREEN GREEN grass.

By the time Buck and Eddie got outside, the kids were already picking up envelope size paper LGBTQ flags from the lawn and waving them around. 

Christopher and Ben sat on the grass huddled together, laughing. They held pride flags in each of their hands. Christopher looked up and when his eyes met Eddie’s, he waved. 

Eddie nudged Buck and nodded toward Christopher. 

“I still don’t like that kid,” Buck waved back. 

“Let’s get a flag.” Eddie walked forward and it took him a moment to realize Buck wasn’t following. He turned and spotted Buck marching toward Christopher and Ben. 

“Buck!” Eddie hurried to catch up to Buck. 

“Hey,” Buck smiled down at Christopher, ignoring Ben. “How are you doing? Got all the clues, yet?”

“Almost.” Christopher slowly got up and Eddie had to stop himself from reaching out to help. Ben handed Christopher his crutches. 

“Buck this is Ben. He’s my best friend.” Christopher smiled up at Buck. No one could resist that smile, especially not Buck. 

“Best friend, huh?” Buck stared down Ben for a moment before he smiled. “Nice to meet you, Ben.”

“You too, sir.” Ben stood straight and shook Buck’s hand. 

Buck looked at Eddie with raised eyebrows. 

“Ben’s dads are soldiers. That’s almost as cool as firefighters.” Christopher said. 

*** 

Look for the man with BLUE umbrella, he’s hiding somewhere inside the station with your next clue.

“Last one!” Cap held out a blue card as Buck and Eddie walked inside the locker room. 

Grumbling under his breath, Buck snatched the last card from Cap’s hand. “This is stupid. If you’re gonna hold an umbrella, at least do it outside. Who needs an umbrella inside?”

Cap closed his umbrella and laid it on the bench next to him. “Not me, anymore.” He walked out. 

Buck put his hands on his hips. “Umbrella? Inside? That’s just… no.” He stared at the blue umbrella with pure hatred. 

Eddie laughed. “And this is why I went with Chimney’s suggestion to have Cap in the locker room.”

“Wait...” Buck narrowed his eyes. “It was you! I lost that by one vote!” 

“No.” Eddie snorted. He tried not to laugh, but it bursted out of him and he doubled over. 

“You were supposed to have my back,” Buck said, smile evident in his voice. 

Looking up, Eddie was shocked to see Buck right in front of him. “I’ll always have your back.”

Buck stepped closer to Eddie until Eddie could feel the heat of Buck’s body. He stopped laughing, mesmerized by the softness in Buck’s eyes. 

“You should laugh more often.” Buck said quietly and reached toward Eddie’s face with his right hand. “Even if it’s on my expense.”

“There you are!” Chimney barged in and Buck jumped back. “Cap’s waiting for you.” Chimney looked between Buck and Eddie. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” they said at the same time.

*** 

If I was a VIOLET balloon where would I be?

“Next year, we need harder clues.” Eddie tore the last clue card from a string tied to a violet balloon. He let go of the string and the balloon flew into the sky. 

Buck hasn’t said a word since they left the locker room, he hasn’t even looked at Eddie once. Eddie hated it. He wasn’t sure what happened back there. One moment they were talking, teasing each other as they normally did, and the next Buck was looking at him like he wanted to kiss him. That couldn’t be right. Buck didn’t want to kiss him. If he did, Eddie was sure, he’d knew about it. No, Eddie was imagining things, he was projecting his own feelings onto Buck. 

“You two are the last ones.” Hen walked up to them. “I think they’re hard enough.” Hen smirked. 

“That’s not nice,” Karen smile. “They did their best.” They walked away, holding hands and laughing. 

“You two are hilarious.” Eddie deadpanned. 

This was what Eddie wanted. He wanted someone to always be on his side, someone he could have fun with, someone to hold hands with as he walked down the street. He glanced toward Buck, wishing that someone could be him. 

Eddie held up the card. They didn’t have to read it, they knew what it said: Congratulations! You won! Get your prize from the Captain. 

Each kid got to pick their own prize. There were toy fire truck with rainbow stickers, toy firemen wearing rainbow helmets, dolls with rainbow hair, and rainbow teddy bears. If Eddie got to pick his toy, he’d pick the fireman with a rainbow helmet. Maybe if he was lucky, one would be left and he could take it home. 

Eddie turned, wanting to ask Buck which toy he’d choose, when Buck rushed past him and marched into the station. 

Frowning, Eddie looked around. What just happened? 

*** 

Eddie followed Buck, half his attention on Buck’s tall form, half on all the kids running around and playing with their toys. 

“She’s got rainbow hair!” The girl with rainbow bow in her hair thrusted a doll in front of Eddie’s face. 

Eddie jerked to a stop and sidestepped her. “She does. She’s really pretty. Almost as pretty as you.”

The girl blushed and hugged her doll to her chest. She looked at him from under her eyelashes. Then ran away. With a smile on his face Eddie watched the girl run to her mom.

Standing on his tiptoes, Eddie tried to find Buck. Where did he go? He only talked to the girl for a few seconds, and apparently that’s all it took for him to lose sight of Buck. 

Spotting Maddie and Chimney by the refreshments table, Eddie rushed toward them. “Have you seen Buck?”

“No.”

“Aren’t we suppose to ask you that? You two are joined at the hip most of the time.” Chimney bit into muffin, crumbs falling from his mouth and rolling down his LAFD t-shirt.

“Is everything alright?” Maddie tilted her head, looking at Eddie.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I just lost him for a second and…” Eddie looked around the station, still not seeing Buck anywhere. He excused himself, avoiding any more questions. 

He checked half the station before he made his way up to the second floor. It was quieter up here. With the scavenger hunt finished there was nothing worth seeing up here so everyone prefered to stay downstairs. All, except one. Buck. 

“I’ve been looking for you.” 

Buck’s back stiffened as Eddie approached him. He pushed away from the table and stood. “I’ve been here.” He walked around the table toward the kitchen. “Do you want water?”

“Sure.” Eddie shrugged and followed Buck into the kitchen. 

Buck pulled two water bottles from the fridge and thrusted one toward Eddie, still not looking at him. Instead of reaching for the bottle, Eddie grabbed Buck’s hand, making Buck finally look at him. “What-” 

“I can’t do this!” Buck pulled his hand away, the water bottle dropping to the floor. “I…” Buck blinked several times, he looked at Eddie’s lips, then eyes, then back to his lips. 

Stepping over the water bottle, Eddie got closer to Buck. “You?”

Buck blinked and turned his head to the right. He pressed his lips together and stared at the closed fridge door. 

 Reaching up, Eddie cupped Buck’s cheek. “Me too.” 

Buck turned, finally looking at Eddie. Eddie smiled, he leaned forward and tilted his head then gently pressed his lips against Buck’s. Buck stilled for a moment before kissing Eddie back, capturing Eddie’s top lip between his. 

Eddie slid his hand from Buck’s cheek to his neck, pulling him closer, his other hand resting on Buck’s waist. Buck melted into him and wound his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. 

It was just them, everything else around them disappeared.

With a groan, Eddie pulled away. His eyes closed, he leaned his forehead against Buck’s. “Wow.”

“Yeah… Wow.” Buck said breathlessly. 

[gotatext]

claws my way out of the dirt like the goblin i am ..... hello thots, its nora, once again bringing you a revamped version of a muse i played yonks ago n some of u may have even written against... here is her pinterest.....

this is margaret greta, she’s a whole can of trauma spaghetti plastered over with a toothy grin and a lot of dad jokes. the only reason she’s in gifford really is bcos shes been put there as part of a witness protection program cos lots of police r monitoring livingstone so its deemed relatively safe.... haha... anyway she changes major all the time. she started off doing fine art but since then she’s done modules in architecture, film, bio-chemistry and is now dabbling in medicine. 

CIS-FEMALE — ever hear people say GRETA O’DRISCOLL looks a lot like DIANA SILVERS? I think SHE is about 21, so it doesn’t really work. The MEDICINE major is a SOPHOMORE that is from DEADWOOD, SOUTH DAKOTA. They can be +CHARMING, but they can also be -EVASIVE. I think GEE might be SHEEP. They are living in YATES. ( nora. 23. gmt. she/her )

this bitch is the most restless creature u ever seen. before she came to livingstone, she’d lived in 8 different cities in 3 years. 

was adopted as an infant. had two foster moms and two older sisters so always surrounded by women. lived in a boarding house, very much like the one in 20th century women, with lodgers coming in and out all the time, mostly artsy young women because her gay moms were both high school teachers trying to set up their own arts collective. one of her moms left when she was 4, n she doesn’t really remember her.

while living with entirely women made her super into catlin moran and the guilty feminist, as a teenager she often let boys walk all over her bc she just craved male attention jst bcos she’d never really experienced it. saw it as something aspirational, like sitting in the back of chad’s second-hand truck while he drove you to macdonalds and offered you and his five friends with identical haircuts weed was the height of being cool to greta, she wanted to be their dream girl, even if it meant compromising her beliefs

bubbly bitch but also massive snake. metaphorically and literally, always shedding her skin. loyal to few, ruled by none, out for herself, babey!! every place she goes, she becomes a new character, someone who’s a figment of her imagination, as if each city is repertory theatre and she’s a character actress, so as a result som ppl think she’s called rita, some ppl know her as margot, she just flicks through identities like nobodies business.

goes through phases of being intensely feminist and tweeting “men are trash i don’t need them” before flipping into being lonely and needy n wanting male attention again. tends to gravitate towards men who are just pieces of shit tbh like her friends are always like hun.... pick a nice boy..... but no.... she’ll go for the boxer with several arrest records for gbh or the small-town drug dealer just trying to hook her onto pills for a little extra cash, or the reformed sinner who thinks he’s being protective by reading all her texts and always knowing where she is..... n she always finds a way to spin it so that they Just Care About Her and aren’t a p.o.s 

left school at 18 n didn’t go to uni, moved in w her boyfriend of the time instead, but soon got bored, n then went backpacking around the states making money in the casinos by being a shot girl (yeehaw) and trying to make it as a mysterious 1920s widow with a smoky voice, a dark secret n a heart of gold, looking for love in the big city. all she found was producers and acting agents who’d promise her stardom n actually just fuck her in a motel n then ignore her calls.

TW domestic violence, TW gun, her watershed moment came when she met luke in sioux falls while she was playing bass for a country n blues band. he was a few years older and had a car, and they kind of went from seeing each other to being that super intense couple who are just necking all the time. 

they got engaged like 3 months after they met n rented a flat together, much to her family’s annoyance but she was 19 so there wasn’t much they could do. their relationship was super super intense though, often really heightened and when they fought it could become quite violent, but she’d pass it off as just him being really passionate. 

one of their fights got really heated and greta threatened him with the gun he kept in the glove box of his vauxhall corsa, but the safety was off and she accidentally shot him. she pleaded self defence in the trial n cos of the amount of times she’d been hospitalised for various concussions n things like ‘fallling down the stairs’ the police were like yea... pretty watertight evidence that he was a bastard who [chicago voice] had it coming..... also this happened in 2017, he was mixed race and greta is white so naturally the police totally took her side. she’s now under witness protection, rehoused in livingstone as a sports-scholarship student, due to the amount of police involvement in the area, it would mean should one of luke’s family members try to track her down, she’d be relatively safe

 massive sports fanatic. plays tennis. on the cheer team. was a track superstar in her high school. honestly just that sporty bitch, you’ll see her doing lines at a party at half four and then on your way to your 9am lecture you see her running across the park like a fresh fucking daisy who is this bitch

pretty easy to get along with (provided you don’t anger, provoke or question her too much) because she WANTS your character to be enthralled by her and will do whatever it takes to win them over. she wants everyone to love her

is That Girl who always knows where the parties are, and is always there, on the sofa, talking about institutionalised racism and trying to coerce you into a game of beer pong that she’ll definitely win. doesn’t really have one solid group of friends, just kind of on good terms with everyone and social butterflies about

has changed her major so many times. decision? who is she. currently studying medicine, but doesn’t rlly enjoy it. she’s very unmotivated and lazy and probably wouldn’t ahve bothered going to uni if she hadn’t been placed in one by a witness protection program. will probably change on to history or gender studies soon n just make up the extra credits by volunteering

 massive feminist. low key quite scared of powerful men bcos of her ex. wants to start a female only lesbian commune bc she misses her childhood in a south dakota boarding house and has endless support for women. honestly annoyed that she is attracted to men, would so be 100% gay if it was a choice. cuffs her jeans and can’t drive. is That bisexual. skateboards. wears backwards caps.  i hate her

plays bass guitar, has a teal green fender and it is her BABY. it’s covered in stickers about saving the planet and ending fracking and going vegan. she’s in an all-female punk band w agnes (n mayb jade i think) n they play gigs every now n then in grotty club basements full of druggy sweaty college kids

PERSONALITY: easy-going, sociable, observant, blunt, amiable, nihilistic, self-serving, laid back, independent, unmotivated, charming, lazy, impulsive, alluring. ESTP and a leo

LIKES: art, music, john wayne movies, black mirror, philosophy,  cowboy chic culture, DC comics, arcade games, candyfloss, deep red lipstick, marijuana, dogs, karaoke, Kate Moss, late-night strolls, zip-lining, chemistry, suspenders, cigarettes, herbal tea, gallows humour, cold coffee, long showers, brown eyes, tchaikovsky, dr. seuss, boiler house DJ sets, magnolias, decorative lamps, worn-out furniture, twangy electric guitars.

DISLIKES: bananas, coffee, Woody Allen, mental mathematics, children, Trump, institutionalised misogyny, the imaginary future, french literature, Wes Anderson films, spoken word poetry, the general mentality of cheerleading squads (despite being on one)

aesthetics:

a bubble of pink gum on chapped lips, mom jeans, a beaten up pair of adidas, denim jackets, strawberry laces, knee-highs, chapped lips, peeling sticky plasters, split knuckles, bruises you try to cover with concealer, stick and poke tattoos, hot coffee, sleep caught in your eyes on a lazy afternoon, kissing girls, cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, leonine arch of your back and that stellar smile that says ‘you have no idea who you’re dealing with’, a rucksack permanently packed for the move, a streak of red across your lips, roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your mom wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, his name scrawled in rage across the pages of a diary, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes. 

wanted plots: since greta literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships, and girls from the cheer team who she’s like, weirdly intimate with like the shower together but its not a Thing cos the other girls straight, and I want like, fellow medicine students who are like?? how is this bitch still passing?? i swear she goes out every night?? she works part time at a fast food restaurant, i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry. ppl she did a few modules with before changing course and somehow sort of remaining in touch with, like she did a few art modules, a bit of film, n some architecture before switching to medicine, though she’ll probs switch course again soon. ppl who she runs track with. someone she’s trying to make a zine with. here’s a list of plots on her old blog if u want any of them w her.

would love plots of any type, throw them all at me please, i cnt wait to interact w all of u. like this if u want me to message you about connections / plots! xo

full biography if u can be bothered

trigger warnings: drugs, domestic abuse, gun.

you never meant for it to happen. you’d heard the stories, of girls who let their man walk all over them, and thought to yourself “i’ll never be one of those girls…” the kind that eat low-fat yoghurt and drink slim fast to shred a few extra pounds because he said she was getting round in the tummy, or the ones who spent their evenings tied to a kitchen sink drinking wine while him and the boys played poker, wishing god, if only I could get out of here. not you, not you raised by strong women, four bright shining beacons. single mother with her hard-as-nails attitude and her stony glares, elder sisters (twins) one ginger, one blonde, one doctor, one lawyer, both determined to take a bullet to the brain and a hammer to the patriarchy before they let a man touch them without asking. you were always so inferior, so insecure and small, like a bird (like a sparrow) with blonde plaits down your back sucking tropicana whilst your busom buds sucked dick, their lips permanently ripe with stories of their sexual exploits, fake tan and glittered nails whilst you sat in the unbroken egg of virginity wondering what it was like to be loved. one day you found out.

lily milligan’s parents gone and a free house for the night, bottles of ouzo and tequila swiped from your mother’s liquor cabinet thinking she wouldn’t know (she always knew) your legs, hardened from pep squad, slut dropping on a kitchen table because the boys thought it would be fun to get the quiet girl drunk. you’d never had a sip before that night. band t-shirts, denim shorts and the split soles of rotten converse that you refuse to let go of, you still clutched with both hands to your youth, but in a tube top now (borrowed from alice carmichael who had a sister in college) and a short tennis skirt, your feet not in trainers but in thigh-high boots. uncomfy as hell but lily said you needed to look sexy. you didn’t know if you wanted to be sexy. you didn’t know what kind of girl you were, if you were even a girl at all. but robbie looked at you like he knew exactly who you were, like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and his lips had the pink cupid’s bow of a movie star, and his hair was dark locks, curling like a mane. his hands were soft, and suddenly on your waist, and after three more shots his lips were on yours and his name was the only sound in your head and on your lips as you lost it in lily’s college sister’s bedroom beneath the glare of a T-Pain poster. you bled for what seemed like hours, his hand still in yours, kissing on the sofa as truth tellers and dare devils continued to spin a bottle of unprecedented youth. you thought it was love. robbie was the one. he loved you, you knew it, how else could someone be so soft? but soon he grew bored, scrunched up your paper heart and set it alight. then came the tears, the hatred, the ‘fuck robbie, in fact, fuck all boys.’ and that you did.

you were known for being easy. any boy could be yours for a night, as long as he promised to love you for those few short breaths and pants before you cried yourself to sleep. you felt poisoned, but poisonous as well, as if by ensnaring these young boys you were gaining power over them, and not the other way around. soon it started to work. they’d want more, but you’d deny them it, sick of sucking off silly schoolboys, they’d call you a tease, a vixen. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help but want older men. you got the history teacher first time, him bending you over his desk to sneak a hand up your tennis skirt as the after-school clubs carried on next door, unawares. love didn’t exist, not for you. it was nothing but a game for pretty young girls to play, bubble gum in their canines and a hand tugging at the hem of their cheer skirt.

there was so much anger inside of your small body, ‘beware of boys and their hook-like words’. hockey helped. there was something formidable about the feeling of a stick like a weapon in your hands and the thwack it made against thighs in the heat of a scrum - “slipped, sorry!” - you’d utter with a snakeskin smile, millicent quinn knowing that you’d hit her on purpose because she shagged robbie at that party last week. she couldn’t prove it, cobbled acne on her forehead turning green with disgust. ben came into your life like a car crash. two years your senior, with a baseball jacket and shoulders like a god. he became your personal hero. on the pitch, he was lethal. together, you could bring anyone to their ruin. each day after last period he’d be waiting in his car. you’d leap into his arms like a girl-half starved, love me, love me, love me, your heated kisses the envy of every junior girl. he was yours for three blissful years, utterly yours, and you were his, his star-spangled girl, and he was your knight - you were both the same, playing games, always difficult to predict. it was a shock to all when he proposed, high-school sweethearts find love in south dakota.

the engagement was a bittersweet affair; three months – you barely out of your gingham print skirts and into a graduation gown, him, a surly quarterback towering above your sisters, cigarette at his lips and a scowl like a fart in a lift. they hated him. so did you. but you were eighteen and in love, and he fitted the cookie cutter mould. everyone wanted him, and you had him. you had him and you were happy, happy, happy, and he loved you. he said he’d give you the world, anything you wanted hand-picked and given to you. instead, he gave you a jack russell terrier and a flat you couldn’t swing a cat in, wallpaper peeling like the rotten bits inside of you, the bits that only he knew. and you got tireder and tireder of the sad excuse of a life he’d picked out for you, him out doing god knows what to pay the bills, and you dancing on tables to pave your way to stardom, and this was love, this was real, until the shine wore off and your fresh-faced, dimple-cheeked cheerleader facade faded and the ugliness started to reveal itself, the whining, the petulance, the sharp-tempered cruelty, the mind games, the need to always win, win, win. he was dull, he was boring, he was nothing like the boy the girls had said he was and no chiselled six pack could hide his lack of anything remotely interesting, your patience wearing thin until it snapped like rubber, a rucksack on your back, running shoes on your feet and the joint bank account emptied into your eighth grade birthday wallet.

you built your small fortunes working the casinos of sioux falls, a crimson dress and an attitude to match. bookish archie with his little dipper freckles was fun for a month, before he became just as dull and dreary as the rest. a three hour bus and you were in minneapolis, bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh meat ready for the pickings. a hostel here, a friendly co-worker’s sofa there as you made what you could by taking off your clothes and shaking your ass like you were back in pep squad, doing what you did best. you met your fair share of creeps, and soon it was back on the road to escape a wide-eyed stalker and a restless itch for more. milwaukee, chicago, you made the roads your own. log cabins and lodgings, and the occasional motel, a beaten up pick up truck purchased at a scrap merchants – you got a few miles out of it before it bit the dust, and when you finally set it alight after nights spent lounging across the driver’s seat, a parka tucked over you as a duvet, you were sad to see it go. you’re nomadic by fault, never attaching to place, people or things, creating a new personality in every place you go like a character actress; each town is a different repertory theatre, and you’re the star. a compulsive liar, you even fib about your own name, to some you’re ellen, nineteen, bookish, a law student who likes smoking and cosmos. to someone else you’re rita, you’re twenty five and look young for your age, like smoking, comics and fucking in public places.

in the bright lights of michigan, you found charlie, sweet charlie, too good for you, though you let him spoil you while he thought you were the small town girl of his dreams. next came abigail, who was fun until the jealously kicked in, and then luke, gorgeous luke, dangerous, exciting, who despite his temper, despite the fights, despite bruises down your spine and your teeth marks on his arms, loved you with the strength of a wild fire. there was destruction in your wishbones, a savageness from the field, from the pitch and now somehow in his arms, you were godly. he was cruel, he was careless, and he refused to fall at your feet like so many other boys had, which only you made you want him all the more. you were rage incarnate. you hated him so fiercely you thought you might kill him, so he played the only card you wouldn’t predict; proposed.

the house you shared was a backstreet flat in detroit, you making your name as a downtown singer while he footed the bill with pills. they had a drug for anything these days, to dull the senses, to pick them up, to drive you to insanity or pull you out of the madness hole. the two of you lived like criminals on the run (you never told him that you were, living out your days as the enigma he wanted you to be), you with your voice like caramel and fishnet legs. you were his and his alone until his hand was at your throat and the gun was in your hands screaming at him to stop, stop, stop, until a bullet stoppered his brain, crimson staining linoleum as you cast yourself out like lucifer. self defence was decreed the moment they saw your violet neck, black tears and headlight eyes and mind screaming red, red, red like the pom-poms you shook so willingly in school and the insides of his skull. you were gone, and “you” was born, renamed “greta”, boxed, shipped-out, and next-day delivered to livingstone where under witness protection you were a student, blank slate, fresh-faced in a place where no one knew your name, doing what you always did and starting again.

[coldlipsmag]

PHONELESS IN BERLIN

Words: Kirsty Allison

All photographs by Martyn Goodacre, except images of Danielle De Picciotto’s art, and Alexander Hacke’s studio…and the portrait of Morgan, by Kirsty.

Clouds’ shadows camouflage the sea. Sardine boats dodge the lifeboat wind farms. I jet-trash over last night’s cab, and the phone left on the back seat.

SCHONEFIELD AIRPORT

“Yes,” with an ‘of course’-face, “It has all the streets on it.” The tourist board office give me a map with the VisitBerlin travel card – 41E for 6 days, generous. I like free travel, and I like maps. Not Maps that rhyme with apps. I see the island of West Berlin – I put all the streets in my long black woollen notebook pocket.

U-BAHN/S-BAHN

Map in a glass cage – no index – I’ll take a photo – look at it when I’m moving – I can’t take a photo. My cogs shift from the cybernet dimension.

Alone. Letting go of my infatuation with being monitored, I feel an analogue glitch, a slip of fortune as I enter the low-rise city, uninterrupted with pings.

A watch. I could buy a watch – to tell the time.

I could walk rather than do the connection.

THE HORRORS / Synästhesie Festival / Volksbühne

“The people putting this festival together told me this granite floor was from Hitler’s Bunker,” says Anton Newcombe of the Brian Jonestown Massacre and A Records, DJing in the green room, two floors of sweeping staircases up in the People’s Theatre of Mitte’s Rosa-Luxemburg Platz – once the centre of East Berlin’s GDR.

“Do you believe them?” I ask, of the 8MM Bar promoters who put the festival together. We consider the plausibility, the Nazi star, in dirty creams and blood reds.

Mark Reeder later confirms it to be from the Nazi Vice Chancellor office. And of the cenotaphs stashed beneath the KuDamm – the Nazi spikes. Close enough. Anton is a hero – DIG! the film he stars in aside spars, The Dandy Warhols – an essential on the rock n roll rites-of-passage Reading List. Between his selection of classic psychedelia: “I was born in 1967, in California, of course I’m psychedelic”, with highlights such as Fabio Viscollios 7”, he sets the record straight on all kindsa connections that zip around my references of the night – the stars that guide us, the magnets who form us.

Arrival in Neukölln

So 90s, no blue arrow locator. Without the digital psychographic veils of my screen, the meaning of wrong direction changes – I love to travel, to feel on top of the globe, wherever you walk, with only the weight of the identifiers you carry.

Natural order leads me to Stroke Order – my faux-god-sista, of the Sacred Sound Club – her haus is pink. Y3 shoes, high ceilings, dribble shower, CK mirror. She’s a costume designer for films, but has been hiding out here for a year. Making minimal techno – using autonomous sensory meridian response samples – sounds that turn us on.

Our mothers are pretend godmothers to me and her. She grew up in Vancouver. Dad is a motorcycle racer and ballet dancer in Japan.

Synästhesie Festival / Volksbühne

CAMERA take to the main stage of seated theatre hall. Brutalist fractal collage films of matrix shifting cities, juddering with intent. Projections of you watching me watching you – perhaps being shot live in the auditorium – full scope. Beaming around the physical force of a standing drummer triballing out for a 20 minute set on a bass drum, snare and cymbal. The centre-piece. Astral simulacrum to The Egg who I played with earlier this year. The standing drummer keels in sweat, throws a death white sheet over the drums as though he has beaten them dead, only to dampen their noise, and continue hitting and hitting. Keys, 2 x guitar, sitar bass, different genereration radical on sax – elf dancing.

I’m reminded of the need for parameters – the ones we invent to live inside. The significance of numbers plays on the screens – another hallucination. A replacement for seeing everything through snapshot Insagram lens. Abandoning our digital religion – is so FKK (freikörperkultur – the GDR East Berliners act of rebellion was to strip on Sundays around the lakes – to rip off the communist soaked nylons of identikit clothing*). So naked.

TANGERINE DREAM

A violinist in black – modular synth Memotron on one side – a bank of other buttons on the other side. One life. One nerve shatters and then rest follow. First they twitch, and glitch the matrix…

I catch a bit of THE PINS – all girls – superhot, riot grrrrl electronica.

THE HORRORS

Violent Lenin Uber Alles track shatters across the increased scale of the stage for this headline performance – punk anger of East Berlin, red deco chandeliers of alles Ku-damm Cabaret glory. Waiting for Faris Badwan, the singer who I first interviewed for Dazed and Confused, making a film about his illustration – and exhibition, I wonder about the symbolism of genre/sound/music/art as signs of the times – about resonance – of what we are creating and producing – of X Factor sounds as the capitalist panacea – of our art resonating our environment – or us gravitating towards it. Stroke Order making techno in Berlin.

The futurism of white noise perfection – the dystopian values, four albums in from when I first met Faris – he was maybe 23 then. Unsure if he was going to carry on at St Martins art school. By the time I interviewed him again for Vogue, he was not going back.

And here, seated in the very front row – I witness the evocation of destiny – he’s become less of the shy frontman, but someone who is commanding the respect of the universe – he violently whips the mic lead – he hails the pulses of front row screamers, bonding their necks with rubber wire – he in black PVC – guitarist in red lipstick – beautiful rockstar boys. Lyrics are lost in the Elritch reverb – Faris is crown stealing. Volatile black energy of goth industrial – contemporised by Tom Furse – and his techno pyramid synths. Ice sweat dripping Hackney vampire bassist Rhys Webb. Faris has become storming iconic balearic, striding over theatre seats, in smart city shoes. It’s cosmic goth, it is power – it is owning the depth of Poe hell to Blakean heavens. From voyeurs to submission, the audience leave satisfied.

WEDDING/NW multi-cultural reaches of the city.

Fire station studio. Danielle De Picciotto walks us across a courtyard in twilight. Pyramid of flowers, split by stairs to a below-sea-level, waiting buddha, draped with beads. Left and right basement of Californian security doors, co-joined studios, His and Hers. Drums on the male side, Alexander Hacke, Einsturzende Neubatten – poles of metal to hit. Next door: paintings of black and white folklore S+M dolls with tripped out wings, and photograph reflections. Hers. With tea. Laughter. Discussion. Love. She is love.

***

Lost – ghetto kid guides me and Stroke Order to the ambient dinner in a bar beneath a block in Wedding: soundproof triangles of three-tone pastel shaved hardwood. Clean vegetables, and a series of performances from three post-Akai-ists. Poetry, soundscapes layering paranoic schizophrenic voices – a DJ girl in from Seattle. The residents, ex-pats, from across Germany, and the world – carrying less ego than London. A wholesome intellect carries through, it gets lost in the whirl of London survival. I think back to hanging with the man commonly known as Rodent, the Sex Pistols’ sound tech – he was saying everything is lost in our digital times – the lack of ability to hang out together, they had to live frugally, himself in the studio of The Clash. The intensity of art. It’s easier here. To get involved in your creativity – away from the grab.

SUNDAY

Home jukebox, coffee, and Okay Cafe cinnamon swirls at Jason McGlade and Anne-Cathrin Saure’s (the art director/photographer, and designer of Cold Lips II, and co-createurs of the Shedville font). They moved back here recently – but Jason’s back and forth to London, working on an incredible analogue Polaroid project.

Stroke Order and I head out to Berghain – but instead collide with a very old friend who’s been living in Thailand for 14 years – Martyn Goodacre. He took the most iconic picture of Kurt Cobain, and many more. We tried doing music together when we worked on magazines. We go to a bar, meet with a midwife – talk about the horror show of birth, the guidance into the world, policed by the womb and the channel to birth and the rejection from the vulvic eye. The propulsion.

MONDAY MORNING COMING DOWN FROM AN EMAIL THAT IS CHANGING MY LIFE

Space, China – coffee with Mark Reeder. His vinyl of Mauderstadt is out now. I’ve just run a trilogy of stories on him in DJ Mag, explaining his part in Berlin, from being the Factory rep in Berlin in Joy Division days, through to putting on punk gigs in East Berlin, recording the music in gay bars to play to New Order – thus Blue Monday – and since, from inventing trance music with his label MfS – getting Paul van Dyk on the map – he’s the man. His uniforms. Rare light.

“Danielle [De Picciotto] and Katia – Love Parade would never have started without them.”

[Love Parade was the street party that began in the ecstatic reunification of East and West Berlin. The wall came down in 1990. The old GDR was a wild land. Read Danielle De Picciotto’s Beauty of Transgression for more…or watch Mark Reeder’s B-Movie…and his forthcoming E-Movie.]

He realises he’s late for his lunch…

Alone, back on the Neukölln streets, I look into the door of a Moroccan cafe – get called in by a round-faced Muslim woman, grey jumper, jeans – trainers – Tangiers market vibes, enter – beans – good – no English – point at a box – I don’t know if she knows I don’t want a tagine but takeaway – they waterfall me mint tea – the door slams shut. There are stickers on the wall tiles – plastic table cloths. Am I about to be drugged? Locked in – I have few Euros and no phone to be stolen.

I sit, read the Unspoken Berlin I’ve picked up – and wait for either the drugs to kick in, or to relax. Oh, some brot on the table – no it ain’t Gucci Bloom sea hedgehog fennel and jerusalem artichoke, chestnut puree and scallop, purple watercress like the exquisite experience of Lokal where local ingredients will dance on plates for us later – nor is is it as refined as the Techno sauna we’ll meditate in around the bar – but it is E2.50 and beautifully wholesome – the chickpeas are larger than London.

—-

Neurotitan have taken Cold Lips and my last 3 copies of Unedited. Stefi there is lovely. It’s somewhere that’s always called me on previous trips to Berlin. Many putting a film together that became impossible, about Manuel Gottching, of Ash Ra Tempel – and E2:E4 – the most sampled record – inventor of ambient – before Eno, before the HANSA recordings of Iggy and Bowie. I tell Stefi of my gig last night with Whisky and Words at the Keith bar – where Stroke Order – her pals – and Jason McGlade come by – and Mark Reeder. And Rasp Thorne [post coming to Cold Lips soon, or buy the second edition for total spread]- the consumate performer – lighter over here – my lips are still red from the wine. Stephen Crane. Rasp’s performance of Crane. He’s so good.

Everytime I get on a train here the stasi black jacket ticket checkers are on the same carriage. It’s happened to Morgan 3 times in her year here – and 3 times with me in as many days. I am able to fight my usual paranoias from the top of my Maslow pyramid – the email from a publisher – saying he wants to publish my novel – the one I have had two agents hawk around in 11 years – during which time, I have changed, and so has the story. It is the best email I’ve ever had. Here, lying in bed on the Monday morning after meeting with Anton Newcombe and front row for Faris – Faris frow.Two days later, I’m still flying, as I hit EchoBucher, back in Wedding – they’re taking some Cold Lips…I drop into Potsdamer – meeting… No fucking way. Ticket checkers.

Zug Fallt aus!

You have amazing eyes – you look like Madonna said the guy from Milano – I’m hoping he means old skool hot Madz. En route to the airport – delays – nerves shot / triggering towards Parkinsons and spiked dreams. He calmed me – so did the guy who was also travelling to Stansted – as we ran for the plane, and vice versa. Detoxed from the phone, train home, to the temple – travelling with Alice A Bailey. Nanobotic karmic overide. More ticket inspectors – haunted by the stasi – on plane now – could do with some extra O2 from the overhead locker after running in a coat I just bought which I think I may be allergic to. But it’s so warm.

*German born LA-resident, Benedikt Taschen, the art collector and publisher, has directed the content of the new EAST GERMAN HANDBOOK. An encyclopedic collab with Wende Museum, a place of Cold War artefacts in Culver City. It’s a compendium of communist porn – picture-led, masonically-charged graphics of the whole nine yards of life behind the wall – from ideal weaponary to food, fags, appalling vodka, and the requisite communist shit shoes. It’s got 50s utopian vision written all over it.

[danatole-headcanons]

Ace, Andy, Kena, and Vic’s Danatole Kid Hcs

@melchirits

* THE KIDS * * helo naught xhildern, it’s danatole child time * THE KIDS: Fyodor(Theo) and Lucette (Lucy) Dolokhov-Kuragin * Dickle * every close friend/relative gets One Name to suggest * all of them are really good and considerate…………..until they go to balaga, a family friend * they tell balaga that he has One Chance……. And the name he choses is dickle * “ok balaga you have one shot at this, don’t fuck it up” * “ok ok hear me out. dickle.” * anatole is dying * dolokhov is having a heart attack in the background, im fucking wheeding * “ok but give me at least three chances” * “hear me out: succulent butterfly or FUCKING NUTMOBILE” “why’d you scream the second one?” “Because it should be in all caps” “get the fuck out” * “you had one chance, WE’RE NOT NAMING OUR GOTDAM SON DICKLE” * “but can the middle names spell dickle, what about troika” * “balaga please get out of our house it’s midnight” * “how about pikachu. Or ash ketchum.” * fedya, screaming from the background, heart attack paused: “YES” “i think i thought of the perfect name” balaga literally gets to anatole’s height by climbing him and whispers, “the loud THX noise from that one movie.”[a] * “name the child the THX noise” “balaga,,,,its been four days please leave” * he Won’t give up * Other balaga recommendations: * FUCKING NUTMOBILE * lucas steele, and variants * paul pinto * razor boy * succulent * marvin * paul pinto in khakis * lucifer * succulent butterfly * lampost * trash can * naruto * pikachu * ash ketchum * kukas steeke * THX noise * fursuit * (anatole kicks him out after that one) * ALSO * “fedya you are the father” * “so are you” * “oh shit true” * the first child (theo) grows up and learns that they were literally almost named fucking nutmobile and is ready to deck both balaga and their dads * balaga is like “im gonna teach your kid how to drive” * anatole astral projects while Everyone it holding fedya back from destroying balaga * balaga teaches the kid how to drive anyway bc fedya and anatole can’t stop him * so the kid gets pulled over by a cop the first time they drive (w/balaga) bc of course * the police person is just like “I KNOW YOU” and balaga screams “FLOOR IT” * “green means go, red also means go probably, yellow means speed up” * “balaga why is my kid crying” “,,,,,,,,,,reasons” * balaga calls theo dickle forever bc he can * Lucy has Fedya’s Determination and she does everything balaga does better * balaga cries into a wine bottle on the pavement * “balaga eating saltines and chugging wine on the sidewalk”~Quote from Ace * one time balaga takes lucy out for night lessons * fedya wakes up as this is happening and has a panic attack because “where is our kid oh dear god” * he literally sprints out into the driveway and balaga screams “FUCKING FLOOR IT” and lucy’s doing all sorts of pro maneuvers * while balaga ends up hanging on for dear life because “oh so this is what it’s like to be my passenger” * “lucy lucifer” * balaga has a corkboard full of parking tickets he never paid, he hoards them like trophies * (balaga voice) speed limit 420 haha nice

* “Balaga that says 42,,,” * “if i put four engines in my car,,,” * balaga owns a school bus that’s decked out like a monster truck * balaga works for uber AND lyft, like a double agent * one time he gets an uber and lyft at the same time so hes like fuck it and gets them both * fuzzy dice on rearview mirror * balaga’s car is named nutmobile & it has a nut sticker * balaga sleeps in his car in a walmart parking lot at night?? * on lucy’s first birthday balaga teaches lucy how to say fuck and fedya decks him in the street * balaga picks lucy up from school or something one day and he saw her and just yelled “HEY LUCIFER” * lucy whips around like YEAH FUCKASS WHAT DO YOU WANT, she was like 14 * BALAGA IS LITERALLY AT ANATOLE AND FEDYAS HOUSE ALK THE TINE AND HE IS JUST YELLING LUCIFER ALL GHE TIME AND FEDYA ID LIKE SHUT THE FUCK UP BALAGA * balaga runs like naruto * balaga was the babysitter literally all the time * balaga worked as a gym teacher for a month before getting fired * (“what’d he get fired for?” “nothing you can prove”) ~Andy and Ace * someone else parks in his parking spot and he just keys the car * balaga worked as a librarian for two hours before being fired for telling the kids to shut the fuck up * balaga never gets fired from uber no matter what * Review: 5/5. Almost died but i got to my destination, 30 minutes away, in 2 minutes. * “LUCY, HYPERDRIVE” * balaga has completely taken over anatole & fedya’s garage * they try to walk in one time like “is this is fucking dead rat” and he shoots them with a paintball gun and says “no this is covfefe” * Balaga goes as a gc egg shaker for halloween w the kids * “No you just hear the beads and then theres tiny egg man” ~Kalvin * “yeah the guy who lives in our garage uhhhh tiny egg man” ~Theo * lucy draws balaga and he says “hell yeah fanart,” hangs it up on like the ceiling of his car * when lucy and theo play mario kart she always chooses rainbow road * chooses monopoly for Family Game Night * “lucy please we’ve been playing for three days” “no it’s blond dad’s turn” * anatole’s dying on the floor, fedya’s crying, theo’s dissociating * theo’s a hide and seek master

*They watch Buzzfeed Unsolved * lucy & theo go ghost hunting, lucy’s humming the ghostbusters theme and theo’s shaking like a leaf in the corner with ten vials of holy water on him * “hey demons it’s me, ya boi” “LUCY NO” * “COME AT ME DEMONS!” “L U C Y P L E A S E” * Theo is Dipper Pines * lucy is always ready to Deck People (kalvin style) * lucy has a pokeball in her backpack to throw at people she doesnt like * the guys at school call her “hellraiser” and the girls call her “lucifer” * theo and lucy are Not Straight in the slightest * lucy is pan, theo is gay & ace, & also trans * lucy makes so many innuendos she got detention multiple times because of it * theo can play literally any instrument and spent his money on bookfairs in elementary school * Theo knows that anybody who plays violin is a basic bitch so he plays viola instead * “Fyodor jr.!” “Sorry dad, you’re basic.” ~Convo with Anatole * theo quickly become better at gambling than fedya, it switches from fedya letting him win to him actually getting demolished, fedya cries * lucy does the thing where it looks like you’re doing ballet but then you go over to someone and kick them in the face * lucy literally carries around a bag of glitter to throw on people when they say/do something stupid * lucy’s ringtone is the THX noise and it’s always so fucking loud * ippolit kuragin is the cool uncle but also cryptid * is a fashion designer in NY apparently * unrelated: (dolokhov voice) me me big anxiety * theo stans all the murder musicals * also is totally straight for phillipa soo * also stans all things LMM * lucy’s contact pick for Blond Dad is That anatole pic * lucy is team valor and theo is team instinct * fedya’s valor, anatole’s mystic (prettiest logo???), balaga’s instinct * everyone outs poor anatole for being on team mystic * “so uh anatole what team did you pick?” “mystic” “oh because they’re smart and stuff–” “no, they’re the most aesthetic * the kids are highkey competitive about pokemon * anatole does that thing where he does 600000 soft restarts to get a shiny starter * he REALLY LOVES alolan vulpix!! * lucy has an embarrassing collection of photos of anatole * Balaga insists on giving the kids The Talk * theo didn’t talk for a week after but it could have gone much worse * someone: so how’d It Go? * theo, shaking, looking up with the purest fear in his eyes: it could have been worse * balaga teaches theo to curse * also, someone @ theo : “fuck, i mean shoot! im so sorry!!” theo, drinking a glass of vodka: what the fuck you can swear around me i literally fuckimg 21 years old what the shit * theo, quietly: in the heights is better than hamilton * lucy, a floor down: EX-FUCKING-SCUSE ME * once lucy asked balaga “hey do you sell drugs” * and balaga was like “no why, do you need them? bc i can get you them” * everyone sees theo as the calm kid, but if you talk shit about his family he Will duel you in a denny’s parking lot @ 3am hamilton style * there’s always the option to go live in the garaga with balaga * Theo’s secret dating the Andreirretasha kid, Nico(lai) * They are the cutest couple™ * Okay some Mama Helene™ bs * Helene was the mom, Fedya was the dad * “Helene and Dolokhov arm-in-arm,” * Lucy looks like a mini Helene, Theo looks like a mini Fedya * The only difference between Helene and Lucy is while Helene has the green-hairpiece-thing, Lucy wears a mauve bow * On Lucy’s fourteenth bday, Helene bent down to eye-level, look soulfully into her eyes, and said this: * “Lucy, as my daughter, i feel as if you should have this..” * It’s a necklace that says “Bitch” * Lucy was 13 when she started her drunk text collection * On Lucy’s 16 bday, helene gave her her most prized possession * “Lucy, I want you to have this, I was going to give it to you later in life, but you’ve come so far already..” * She pulls out a book from her purse, written in fancy calligraphy on it are the words “Burn Book” * “Lucy this is everything that someone i know has done wrong, treat it with care…” * It was one of the only times lucy has ever cried * You bet your ass there’s an entire section dedicated to Anatole * “Anatole, age 1-6, Anatole, Age 7-10, Anatole, Age 11-13, Anatole, Age 14-18, etc” * Theres even some stuff about Cryptid-Uncle-Ippolit * “Hey dad? Remember when you and uncle Pierre tied to guy to a bear for shits and giggles?” * Theo is on the spectrum * Helene got him a fidget cube * He and Lucy do sibling costumes * Theo is a gangly mess of limbs like how does the kid function * Theo was cis-passing when he started dating Nico * When he told him he was trans, Nico just shrugged and kissed him alot * Yeah so I love these kids and might write a fic

[my-job-is-to-fangirl]

I went for my first ever concert this April in Bangkok with two of my best friends (Nabi and Bunky, as mentioned in my other Bangkok posts). I am still not over the fact that we actually went, and it’s been four months. I just thought I’d make a blog post because I think I can handle looking back at the videos now without hyperventilating. (edit- I couldn’t.)

Anyway, I will talk about everything in detail- the ticketing process, the days leading up to the concert, and the day of. Also, my ‘favourite moments’ list went on and on so I stopped after a while. Let’s begin! I hope this is slightly helpful at least, and if not, enjoy the video! xD

TICKETING We found out that they were having a concert in BKK in October and began the process of badgering our respective parents to let us go, and in my case, to come with us on the trip. Everything worked out pretty soon and we couldn’t handle our excitement. Then we remembered how hard it would be to get the actual tickets. We prepared ourselves for the worst, obviously, and I had my mom tell me practically everyday ‘don’t be disappointed if you don’t get tickets okay, you can try later’.

The tickets were going on sale in December, and I think we religiously prepared for the ticketing process for a good week before ‘the day’. I don’t think we slept the previous night, I have butterflies in my stomach even as I’m typing this that’s the sheer amount of anxiety we had about it. We all had notebooks with seating charts and which seats to aim for and everything ready. 

The morning of the ticketing, we were up by 6:30, ready with laptops and the webpage open (thaiticketmajor.com). And of course, our notebooks, a pen, and water to last us the hours ahead. Oh, most importantly, we had credit card details written down too. There would be a very tiny window to finish payment, assuming we got tickets. We were on a conference call, dying in anticipation. I had my aunt, mom, dad, and grandfather all walking around the house, probably thinking ‘these kids are mad’. They all helped though, they were my hype-people, giving me food and saying ‘have hope’ xD

It took forEVER to enter the damn website, and once we did, we had to wait in line. We also had other friends on the conference call to help us out- THANK YOU ALL, and all we said for hours was ‘my man moved!!’ (you’ll see in the picture below what I mean). We all used multiple browsers, and for me, Safari worked magic. I got in line at about 8 I think, and finally got into the website at around 9:45. We were on the website from 7 though, refreshing and waiting for it to open. I don’t know how mine was fast, we all got in line at the same time.

Once I reached the end of the line and entered the website properly, there was a lot of screaming in my earphones. ‘STAY CALM YOU CAN DO THIS WE NEED THESE TICKETS.’ I went through, picked seats that were close enough (after about a minute of deliberation, we didn’t have more time than that), and waited to see if it would go through. I think I had to change seats thrice because they were booked by the time I clicked on ‘select’, but we unknowingly got great seats (more on that later). My aunt was sitting ready with card details so we went ahead and paid!! Again, there was a lot of screaming. I think we all went silent for a few seconds just taking it in.

This is what it looked like in the beginning. The man kept walking and taking the green line with him.

Now, the next three months, we kept counting down and planning our trip, it was so much fun researching where to go and what to eat at the 7/11’s (okay that was mainly me). Buying and figuring out what to wear at the concert, listing places to shop there, what to do on the day of the concert- our priorities.

THE MORNING OF 7.4.19 My parents obviously didn’t come for the concert, but they spent that day taking care of us and giving us food because we were so excited, it was like having an out-of-body experience, I swear. We got up by 6:30, got ready (not in concert wear, because the concert was in the evening, and we were going to come back to the hotel after collecting the tickets because it was quite close by to the venue), ate breakfast and went to the venue. We walked around a little bit to find the stalls for tickets. We were greeted by posters of each of the members and a HUGE one of all of them with the concert details.

This is the clearest one I have.

We were sitting in line in the sweltering heat, but thankfully it didn’t take too long, we were early and there weren’t that many people.

  We didn’t know it would be that hot, we didn’t have anything to cover our heads with. Anyway, we got our tickets pretty quickly and then stood in line for army bombs. They give you a sheet with all the merch and you have to select everything you want so it becomes easier. We just got those, got them synced to our respective seats, and then got Fanta xD they were selling giant cups of ice with whatever flavour of Fanta, we all got strawberry. I don’t know why, but I felt the need to include that detail. We then went and got small fans outside on the street. We saw 90% of the people holding fans and we thought ‘oh we can take the heat we’re from India’, but god no we needed them. [Random shoutout to the really sweet girl from Indonesia I stood in front of in line for the army bombs :D] While leaving, a random girl was coming to each of us and saying ‘sorry, please take this’, and I thought it was a pamphlet or something, but it was a cute Hobi sticker ㅠㅠ The concert experience had officially begun xD

EVENING We left at around 4 to go to the venue, the concert was at 7. Adventure time (not the show)- We were in the cab on the way, and the cab driver stopped somewhere and started to talk to us in Thai. We kept telling him we needed him to speak in English and finally, he told us we had to get down there. Google maps showed that we were almost 2 km away from the venue, we thought we could walk, but there was traffic for as far as the eye could see, and we’d get all sweaty and disgusting. While we were contemplating what to do, there were a lot of guys wearing traffic vests (I am so sorry I don’t know what they’re called) and one guy spoke into his phone and showed us google translate, it said we had to get out here and cars weren’t allowed past the point because of traffic. They said they’d drop us on bikes to the venue, and after seeing a lot of other girls going, we decided to go too. This was honestly one of my highlights of the trip, it was so much fun, and such a good initiative.

ANYWAY. We went in and were ogling all the people there, MAN they dressed so well. We saw a queue in the middle somewhere and thought we had to go for the bag check so we joined in. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A GIRL GIVING OUT A FREEBIE. We were so happy with it. We walked around, joined a lot more queues, we couldn’t be stopped, it was too good to be true. We collected so many freebies, and the quality of the photocards and whatever they gave was so so so good, it was unbelievable that people were just giving them out for free. That’s how nice Army’s are :’))))) Here are all the freebies I got.

the first freebie we got, its a sticker :’)

this was for us to place our ticket in the centre, we didn’t :p

love this one.

the other side of the card above. the quality of this card is amazing

kook postcard!

the girl who gave this to us is friends with honeyjoonie94 we were so excited!

this girl told everyone to take two Jin pictures each I love them

the Jikook and Vkook ones were literally packaged in plastic covering, look at the dedication :’)

all together now, lets say thank you armyyyyyy.

Where all the queues were happening.

our beautiful tickets :’)

Army time :’) We were so lucky to get a banner with lyrics from Moonchild, it made it extra special ㅠㅠ

Standing around for a little more, we finally went inside the stadium. I’m not kidding, we all almost cried just entering the place.

LOOK AT IT I MEAN CAN YOU BELIEVE IT

There’s not much to say about the actual concert other than they were amazing, we’re still not fully convinced they’re human, anyone who says they’re not good live, please show this to them for proof that they exist on a meal of their own CD’s. That’s how good they are. BTS has been such a huge part of my life for the past two and a half years, only armys will understand how happy we get when we see them or listen to them. They really are something else, and something so different from usual artists, they never, ever fail to make me smile.

Best moments (in no particular order) in bullet points because otherwise, this will get way too long:

1- Love. Screaming 사랑 사랑 사랑 was the best thing ever, I will never forget the army bombs making purple hearts in the crowd. 2- Yoongi in the glorious red suit for Seesaw + his choker later on. 3- Serendipity- Jimin sitting on the stage like a baby. My friend who isn’t even army watched the clip and said it made her so happy :’) 4- I DON’T KNOW NAN MOLLA. 5- Them walking towards our side. We were shocked by how close our seats were, we had no idea. And we could see them up so close ㅠㅠ 6- Tear. That’s all. 7- Chanting Jhope for Just Dance. We screamed it for a long time and you could see the surprise on Hobi’s face, it was adorable. 8- The fact that we actually got to see Run and I Need U live is insane. 9- Baepsaeeee. We wanted this medley solely for Baepsae. If you know, you know. 10- Euphoria. I feel like Koo and yellow army bombs together were perfect :’) 11- Singularity. Unreal ethereal out of this world beauty of Kim Taehyung cannot be explained. 12- Epiphany. Singing ‘I’m the one I should love’ felt cathartic. I put a nice long clip in the video. 13- Ours being the last concert of the Love Yourself tour was a blessing. 14- Jimin’s adlibs in The Truth Untold. 15- Mic Drop red cult+dance break+Yoongi. 16- Anpanman. This was one of the songs I was most excited for because they’re always so chaotic. 17- So What. I never listened to this song much, but after seeing it live, I love it. It brings back memories of just so much energy and the rush of being there. Also fake ‘mist’ that was apparently water. 18- Army time with Love Myself+confetti. 19- Seeing 50,000 people on the streets all waiting for cabs. I had to include this because it was just so fun xD 20- The number of freebies we got I LOVE ARMIES. 21- Curly hair JK. YEAH WE GOT TO SEE OUR 90’S HEARTTHROB LIVE. 22- The rain. The rain that did certain wonderful things. Again, if you know, you know. Just look up Namjoon pictures from that day, you’re welcome. 23- Tae speaking Thai was the cutest thing ever. 24- Fire dance break. 25- FANCHANT. I was living for it. 26- Army bomb. Just buying it and having it in my shelf now. What a feeling. 27- Large cups of iced Fanta. yes, it’s a highlight for me. 28- There was this girl who screamed ‘Park Jimin, ULJIMA’. An icon. 29- Seeing armys all over the city felt like some weird dream. Honestly from the minute we landed, they were everywhere. In the airport, in the hotel (there were about 60 armys in our hotel), on the streets, e v e r y w h e r e. 30. Going to an actual BTS concert was a dream of ours for two years and we were lucky enough that everything worked out in the end. I couldn’t be happier. I haven’t sung in like 15 years, but I did that day. And the next time I sing will be at another concert, I hope, only in the presence of 50,000 people who truly love these boys. It was a surreal experience, and what made it even better was going with two friends who mean so much to me.

[In conclusion- this is what I wrote the day after our concert in my journal- ‘Joon is poreless. Hobi is everything. Tae is beauty. JK is baby. Jimin is angel. Yoongi is pale. Jin is ethereal.]

Okay bye. I’m glad I finally made this post. Now enjoy the video! I made a video with all the clips, the individual ones are huge and not viewable. I had to upload it on youtube because I thought it wouldn’t upload here. Anyway, you have two options now :p

Love Yourself.

  Post (BTS) concert depression is real ㅠㅠ I went for my first ever concert this April in Bangkok with two of my best friends (Nabi and Bunky, as mentioned in my other Bangkok posts).

[itsanerdlife]

Tea Party For 9

Pairing: The Men of The Avengers x Steve Rogers Daughter Sarah Rogers

Warning: This is ridiculous and well I think I’m funny sorry if you don’t. Haha

When Sarah wants a tea party, she manages to get her way with Uncle Tony’s help. She doesn’t hear the word no when it comes to her uncles, not a single one is willing to tell her no, even if that means being forced into Dress Up attire and using their manners. As long as it stays between the nine of them only.

@chrisevansthedoritobastard @holahellohialoha   @almightyunnie @imamotherfuckingstar-lord   @iwillbeinmynest @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @goodnightwife @irepeldirt @yourtropegirl  @bellejeunefillesansmerci  @buckyb-avengers  @winterboobaer @mrhowardstark @rileyloves5 @ria132love  @samanthaneedsanap @theonlyparadox   @seargantbcky @the-witching-hours12-3   @callamint  @cryokinetic-cobain  @agentsinstorybrooke 

“Are you sure about this?” You sigh leaning against the wall as you watch your daughter run from her uncle Clint who was chasing her down for of course stealing one of his French fries, her little legs going as quick as they could.

“Of course. We won’t damage her, I mean she’s made it this far.” Your husband Steve laughs, you roll your eyes at him.

“She’s at a very impressionable age right now.” You laugh as she does the zombie walk she picked up from Uncle Sam. “Last time I came home and she raving about Tammy Brady.” You give him a look, he flushes.

“It was supposed to be Tom Brady.” He shrugs. “But this time, it’ll be good, we’ll snack, watching approved movies, maybe go for a swim.” He tucks your hair behind your ear grinning at you.

“Fine, but floaties and put a swimmy pull up on her.” You sigh pushing off the wall before you catch your daughter scooping her up, she giggles warming everything inside you.

“Momma.” She squeals as you place her on the couch, squatting down in front of her grabbing her little feet.

“Alright Miss Sarah, momma and your aunts are going to go out for a while, I’ll be back before dinner. Are you going to be a good girl for your dad and uncles?” You grin at her as she nods. “Promise?” You stick out your pinky for her, she wraps her little pinky around yours nodding again.

“We have tea party?” She asks excitedly.

“Oh baby, maybe tomorrow?” You smooth back her hair. Sarah rolls her eyes, sighing loudly.

“No momma.” You look at her confused. “Not you.” You draws out the u as she falls back onto the couch in a dramatic flail. You look over at Steve giving him a ‘she gets this from you’ look, the team had gathered around, Steve shrugs.

“Tell me Miss.” You sigh trying to not laugh at her.

“Daddy and uncles.” She waves her hand towards them still laying on the couch.

“Oh well miss I’m not sure they will have the time.” You sigh feeling as if you were letting down your daughter.

“A tea party huh?” Tony jumps in, parting through the team coming towards Sarah who lifts her head from the couch looking at him, nodding excitedly. “Like with tea and cakes and little sandwiches?” He grins at her.

“Yeah!” She sits up with a burst of energy, you lean back startled.

“Then miss you shall come with me, lets pick out your goodies.” He puts out his arms as Sarah climbs the arm of the couch before she leaps into his waiting arms, they turn and head for the elevator.

“Tony, not a lot of sugar!” You call after the two.

“Shh, you’re not here!” He waves a hand dismissingly at you.

“Yeah!” Sarah chirp’s bubbly.

“Bye Miss.” You call to Sarah, who turns in Tony’s arms waving and blowing you a kiss.

“Dress up!” Sarah squeals clapping her hands.

“Be ready in two hours’ gentleman!” Tony waves as they step on to the elevator. You and Steve exchange a look, Buck shakes his head, Clint is chuckling, and Sam looks confused.

“Did she say dress up?” Sam asks looking around.

“I think her pink feather boa will look lovely on you.” Nat runs a finger down his cheek giving a wicked grin, he swats at her hand.

“Crap she’s going to want to sticker my arm again.” Buck sighs, looking down at his metal arm.

“Meant for destruction, became a little girl’s sticker book.” Steve snickers, Buck shakes his head.

“Is this tea?” Sam sniffs the cup.

“Fruity, more like juice I figured she didn’t really drink tea.” Tony picks up his own tea cup.

“Speaking of fruity, how’s anyone else feeling right about now.” Pietro asks looking around the tea party table.

They were all dressed in something, many somethings from Sarah’s very large dress up closet. Tony was sporting a purple and pink boa, a tan sun hat, large yellow sunglasses, and fake large, gold earrings with dangling green gems. Sam had been forces into a large black hat with white feathers, a yellow boa, and Sarah and managed to stick several large, fake rings on his fingers. Pietro was swatting at the feathers on the extra fluffy green boa around his neck, he had on large gold earrings with pink gems in the center, and oversized black sunglasses.

Vision had a large black boa wrapped around his neck, large silver earrings that dangled with pinks gems in them attached to his ears. Clint was wearing a scarf wrapped around his head like Rambo which Sarah did not approve of she kept giving him a dirty look, he had on Mardi Gras beaded necklaces, and several rings shoved on his fingers. Bruce had on a pink boa, large sunglasses in a purple color, with a large white floppy hat. 

Buck was a little worse off than the others, He had a scarf wrapped around his head tied under his chin, large black sunglasses with rhinestones on the edges, and a large handful of Mardi Gras beaded necklaces as well that clinked against his metal arm that was once again decorated in princess stickers. Steve had a red boa and white boa draped around his neck, a lovely wide brimmed hat in a pink color sat on his head, several rings shoved on his fingers as well, and lovely large, silver earrings with yellow gems in the centers clipped to his ears.

“I feel like this is something I’ve seen my mother wear.” Sam sighs sipping his tea.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a look from the 40’s Buck’s got there.” Clint laughs as the table looks at him, delicately eating a macaroon.

“Really Barnes?” Sam raises his eyebrow at him.

“They’re really good.” Buck shrugs. “Who would have thought cute cookies would be so good.” He nibbles on the cookie once more.

“You are wrapped around her finger.” Bruce laughs.

“Coming from the man that couldn’t say no to the little blonde when she asked you to her tea party and to dress up with her.” Steve snorts.

“She does not ask, she demands.” Sam laughs defending Bruce, as he picks up a tiny sandwich looking it over before stuffing it into his mouth.

“Ahhhhh!” Sarah points her finger at him. “Manners.” She smiles pushing up her sunglasses that were slipping off her face, her purple hat flopping around her head, the white boa wrapped around her little neck the feathers sticking to her face, her purple Rapunzel dress underneath.

“Yes, Manners please.” Steve nods at them his eyebrows raised as he sips his tea, pinky out.

“I do not understand the need for fake tea parties.” Vison looks around.

“It’s a mile stone, little girls love tea parties.” Tony grins at Sarah who was babbling to herself as she picked out a little sandwich putting it on her plate, before sitting down smoothing out her dress and pushing up her glasses. “Besides she is my niece I’m supposed to spoil her, and join her imagination.” Tony grins.

“I’ll drink tea, play her games, watch her movies, and even eat with manners, but I’m not sure about this dress up thing.” Sam pulls on the boa around his neck.

“I dare you to try taking it off. Bet she comes over this table in a way that will remind you of her mother.” Buck and Steve laugh.

“I don’t doubt that.” Sam raises his eyebrows before looking at Sarah who was eating her tea sandwich quietly enjoying her tea party. “She’s lucky she’s cute.” He grumbles picking up one of the girly looking cookies.

“Tea?” Sarah perks up.

“Oh please.” Tony holds out his cup, Sarah and Steve pick the tea pot up together filling Tony’s cup.

“May I have more?” Clint asks sweetly holding out his cup, Sarah gives his scarf a dirty look but fills his cup as well.

“My I say Miss Sarah you throw a lovely tea party.” Bruce grins at her, she lights up giddy as she sits in her chair.

“Tank you.” She grins completely flattered.

The elevator dings, signaling someone had arrived, the men all exchange a look as the three women walk into the kitchen stopping in their tracks at the site in the living room, sitting around Sarah’s tea party table.

“Oh My God.” Wanda breathes her face lighting up.

“I’ve never been so happy.” Nat presses her hand to her heart a wicked grin spreading across her lips.

“I’m sorry we must have the wrong apartment. So sorry to interrupt your tea party ladies.” You raise your eyebrows at them, several shift awkwardly. Sarah claps picking up her sandwich and taking a bite, Tony is the only one who doesn’t look uncomfortable he leans back in his chair, legs crossed, completely comfortable in Sarah’s dress up accessories, he flamboyantly flips the boa around his neck as he sips from his tea cup.

“Please tell me someone is getting pictures of this.” You hiss at Nat and Wanda.

“Already going.” Nat’s phone stick slightly out of her pocket.

“So miss got her tea party I see.” You walk over towards the party fighting a grin. “You all make very, very pretty women.” You struggle to not laugh.

“Hey she doesn’t ask she demands.” Sam points at Sarah who smiles at him. “She’s as bad as her mother.” He shakes his head.

“I’m printing these right away.” Nat snickers suddenly the whole table looks up at Nat, phone in hand snapping away, the men jump up pulling at the dress up accessories quickly, only Tony stays put looking fabulous and content.

“Oh, I need copies.” Wanda and Nat are gasping for breath as the group straightens up.

“Beer?” Clint asks looking around.

“And guns.” Sam grunts trying to be ‘manly’, there is an all around agreement before they turn thanking Sarah for a lovely tea party and heading for the elevator.

“May we join your tea party?” You ask Sarah, she gestors to an empty chair, you, Nat and Wanda take a seat, each picking up something one of the men left behind. Wanda wraps a boa around her shoulders, Nat finds a hat with feathers, you pick up a scarf and hat.

“Tea?” Sarah perks up.

Oh please.” Nat holds out a cup.

“This is lovely tea miss.” You grin at her putting down the tea cup Steve had abandoned.

“Isn’t it? Try a sandwich.” Tony grins, still in his getup.

“My I say Uncle Tony, you look just marvelous.” You nod, Nat snorts and Wanda chokes on her tea.

“I know, I make this look good.” He nods his hand waving down the length of him.

“Oh, do your uncles love you.” You look at your daughter who nods, her curls dancing around her face.

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

Miss Nothing - Miss Everything Sequel - Request

Originally requested by @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester: Dean x reader have been married for years, she gets pregnant, but he doesn’t want it. She leaves but never moves on. He ends up in another relationship and about to marry her. At the altar, he decides he needs to be with reader and their child. Sequel requested by @winsmut (I need more), @essie1876 (I need to know what happens!!!), @mrs--banner (MOOOREEEEE AHHH), @a-stupid-pretty-girl-u-to-know (Part 2 for Miss Everything please?!?), @thoughtsfromtheam (Miss Everything is... everything... part 2??), anon ( 'Miss Everything', do you think that you could do a part2, ...), @leoqueen-maha ( OH MY CASTIEL!!! Does he find her? How? When? I NEED A MISS EVERYTHING SEQUEL PLEASE!...)

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word count: 3,951

Warnings: Daddy issues, I guess // I changed the time line a little for the sake of the story, as well. Also, un-edited because this is damn long and I had zero time.

A/N: Call me the angry mother with daddy issues from now on. This was a relief to write.

**Remember this is for the Sequel Friday special. ;)

Enjoy!

|Miss Everything|

It took him months, almost a year, but he finally located (Y/N). His heart skipped a beat when he saw her walking out of her house.

It wasn’t much of a big deal, it was small but it looked cozy and pretty, perfect for a child. Dean noticed a little plastic Barbie car at the front yard and butterfly stickers at one of the windows from the two story house.

She looked great. She had let her hair grow a bit more, and her face kept the youthful shinning he adored so much. She looked like someone who had gained and lost too much weight in a short amount of time, yet she looked gorgeous.

Dean was parked at the other side of the street, admiring her from afar, leaning on his black car. She hadn’t noticed him; she was picking up the toys from the entrance before leaving. Dean noticed a classic ford mustang in a delicious red colour. He remembered her love for classic cars, but was also pleased to see a children seat at the back.

He observed, patiently, dreaming of the minute her eyes connected with his – he had dreamt it ever since he left the Church and began his search for her – how her (Y/E/C) would show her the same heart-warming love and would shed happy tears; and her bright pink lips forming the biggest grin of them all… And how she would run to him, to hold him tightly not wanting to let him go. And Dean would apologize and make her all the kinds of promises he couldn’t do back in the day; and he would meet his child and they would be a family.

As his mind wandered to that fantasy, (Y/N) finished picking up and turned on the car, leaving him. Dean punished himself mentally for not being alert, and he also felt a bit sad that she hadn’t even noticed the black beauty behind him. How much she loved Baby, and the joyful glances she would give to it whenever it appeared at her front porch when Dean picked her up for a date.

He waited once more until she came back with a blonde kid with bright green eyes. She looked just like him, and she had a pink shirt with Led Zeppelin’s logo printed. She had a Barbie in hand, and he couldn’t help but to flinch when he noticed how it wore a hand-made leather jacket.

“Mommy!” The girl called. She didn’t have the typical squeaky and annoying tone every child has but rather a tougher one. “Can we go to the movies tonight?” She asked as (Y/N) helped her out of the car.

“Of course! Which movie would you like to watch?”

“Insidious!” She squealed happily. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and smiled lovingly at her.

“Finish your homework early and we’ll go.” The tiny girl didn’t argue, she nodded and ran back to the house.

(Y/N) stood there, taking the backpack and the groceries bags out. Dean knew he had to make his move then.

“I would…” He cleared his throat as he walked towards the woman he had once loved with all his heart, “I would love to join you… If you let me.”

(Y/N) froze dropping the bags to the floor. Dean was fast and caught them for her, offering his best puppy eyes. “Dean…” She whispered.

“Hi.” The signature Dean Winchester smile was flashed like a popstar shaking his hair to impress.

“You…” (Y/N)’s breath became heavy, and her eyes trapped the small tears that threatened to come out. It was just as Dean expected.

“I’m back… If you take me.” (Y/N) breathed in deeply and, when Dean thought she would hug him, she slapped him so hard he almost dropped the bags.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I WENT THROUGH?” She fumed, “A FREAKING SINGLE MOTHER THAT KNEW NOTHING OTHER THAN HUNTING FREAKING MONSTERS RAISING A CHILD FROM A MAN WHO ABBANDONED HER…”

“I know, I’m sorry…”

“SORRY?!” She let out a sarcastic laughter, “Do you even know her name?”

“Ma-Mary?” He suggested.

“Why on Earth would I name her that?!” She exclaimed.

“Because… it’s my mother’s name?” Dean had shortened like a submissive slave.

“Right, of course!” She hissed, “Why didn’t I think of naming my child after the mother of the man who abandoned us!” She face palmed angrily and took the bags off his hands.

“(Y/N), please.” He begged.

“Please?” She was about to cry, “That’s exactly what I… I begged you to think it through, I remained hopeful that you would change your mind and come back to us…”

“I came back, (Y/N).”

“Five years later, Dean.” She whispered bitterly, “She’s better without you.”

(Y/N) turned around to leave, hoping that her girl hadn’t heard the argument or that she wouldn’t notice her crying… Although, she always noticed when something was wrong. She was so smart and mature… Side effects of growing with a single mother that couldn’t get her shit together during her first year.

“Can you at least tell me her name?” Dean begged.

“Louise.” She replied nonchalantly and opened the door.

“What does it mean?” Dean asked again. (Y/N) took a deep breath.

“Warrior.”

-

Dean couldn’t blame her for reacting like that. Hell, he would’ve done the exact same thing. He had been so dumb, so naïve and narcissistic to think that (Y/N), out of all women, would take him back just like that after five years of raising her child all by herself… No, he had to earn that right and the first part of his plan was done. He hadn’t only confronted her and made her know he was willing to get them back, but he had also made sure to leave a little envelope on her mailbox with money he had saved over the years.

He had saved it for his retirement, apparently, but in reality he saved it just in case (Y/N) came back asking for help… he knew it was expensive to raise a child, and was now impressed that he had managed all by herself. Either way, he was willing to give her a monthly envelope with what he thought was enough money because, whether she took him back or not, he wanted to give his child the life he had kept her from.

His child… Little Louise with her golden looks and apple green eyes; with Barbies that needed hand-made clothes because nothing was badass enough, wanting to go to horror movies and listening to classic rock music… She was a dream come true and Dean’s heart ached at the thought of not being there while she grew up.

He had missed her first steps, her first words, her first everything… He didn’t want to miss the rest of it.

“Well, it could’ve been worse.” Sam told him once Dean arrived to the bunker to tell him every last detail.

“Worse?” Dean inquired angrily.

“I thought she would kill you.” Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“And you left me go with that in mind? What if she did kill me?” Sam hesitated.

“You kind of deserve it…” He said. Dean sighed heavily.

“I know…”

“So what does he look like?” Dean lifted an eyebrow, “Your child.”

“It’s a girl… Louise.” He explained with a sad smile, “She looks just like me… or mom.”

“Can’t deny I always knew we have strong genes…” Sam joked.

“But she’s a real bad-ass just like (Y/N)… She wanted to go watch Insidious and her Barbie had a leather jacket… Oh, and she wore a pink Led Zeppelin’s shirt!” Dean cheered. Sam observed with both sadness and joy at his brother’s reaction.

“She sounds awesome.” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah… I need to know her, Sam.” Dean spoke softly, “I need her to know I’m her dad… Even if she hates me.”

“She probably will…”

“She’s five.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam said, “I started hating on dad when I was three… And he never truly abandoned us so…” He clicked his tongue.

“How reassuring.” Dean hissed.

“I’m just saying, man… It will cost you and eye and half of the other to get them back.” Dean nodded, taking a sip from his beer. “I’ll help you, though.”

-

The next week, at night, Dean appeared back at her door. (Y/N) didn’t let him in, she simply walked out and shut the door behind her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She whispered angrily.

“I…”

“She’s asleep, Dean!” She insisted, “You can’t just come in at ten o’clock and ring the doorbell.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again.” He promised in the same low voice she was using.

“Of course it won’t, because I forbid you to come back.” Dean’s face fell.

“(Y/N), don’t do this, please.” Dean begged.

“Can’t you see?” She sniffed, “She’s grown thinking that her father doesn’t love her… And it’s not my words but the kids at school, the ones who bully her for not taking anyone for father’s day.”

“I had no idea…” Dean mumbled.

“Of course you don’t… You’re too busy living the bachelor life, drinking and sleeping around with skanks.” She hissed.

“I changed, (Y/N).” He insisted.

“Changed the outfit, perhaps. First time I see you wearing a shirt that’s not a squared flannel.” Dean looked down to see his red shirt over the black tee…

“(Y/N), please.” He begged once again.

“What would you even tell her? That you changed your mind? That you do love her?” She started crying, “That you made a mistake and want her back? She doesn’t want to hear it Dean…”

“How do you know?”

“Because we go to therapy, Dean!” She cried, “You think you suffered because daddy was out working? Imagine no daddy at all!”

“I’m… I’m sorry…” He too started crying, “I just didn’t want her to drag her into the life… I wanted her to have a normal life…”

“Leaving us wasn’t the way, that’s for sure.” She hissed, “Please, leave us alone.”

She entered the house, leaving a crying Dean at the door.

“Lame.” A younger voice spoke in the darkness. Dean got on alert, taking his gun out. “My mom’s gun is bigger.” It said and Dean followed it to the fence right next to the house, which lead to the backyard. Louise was sitting there, observing.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Dean inquired in an authoritarian voice.

“Shouldn’t you be apologizing?” She snapped back, chewing a pink bubble gum.

“It’s too late for candies.” He observed.

“It’s too late for trying to be a father.” She said.

“How old are you?” Dean inquired. Yes, children could be assholes but even so she spoke like an older person.

“Five.” She smirked cockily.

“Sassy, just like your mother.” Dean mumbled.

“Don’t forget smart.” Dean chuckled and nodded. “We’re still in the life.” she said, making sure to use a morbid tone for the last words. “Last weekend we hunted a vetala in Nebraska.”

“Really?” Dean walked closer so he was face to face to her.

“Yup.” She popped the p, “I killed them… Nobody ever suspects about the small ones.”

“Damn right, sweetheart.” Dean joked and she giggled. The sound of her made Dean’s heart melt. “So which is your favourite band?”

“One Direction.” His face fell once more and so she laughed loudly. “I’m joking, mom did the same when I told her… My favourite band is Blue Oyster Cult.” Dean smiled at her stumbling over “oyster”.

“Song?”

“I can’t just pick one.” She smiled shyly. Dean agreed with her. “Don’t listen to her… She still loves you, but she’s hurt…”

“I don’t think she loves me anymore.” Dean confessed sadly.

“If she didn’t she would already be married to Mr. Culton… My art teacher who is in love with her…” Louise shrugged her tiny shoulders.

“Maybe… But I have to follow her rules.” Dean explained sadly.

“Fine, let’s follow her rules.” She smirked mischievously, “At this time she goes back to bed and watches sci-fi shows until she falls asleep…”

“You want us to meet in secret?” Dean inquired softly.

“Only until she forgives you… I would really like to get to know my dad.” Dean shuddered.

“I’ll be here every night if that’s what you want.” He promised.

“Good, now leave before she notices your car is still parked outside… Oh and, bring me more bubble gum, Mrs. Hatkins doesn’t want to give me more because she says my teeth will rot.”

“She’s right.” Dean observed.

“If I have your teeth, no.” She snapped back, “Mom says you drink daily and your teeth are still perfect… And alcohol deteriorates them faster so…”

“Deteriorates? How do you even know that word?”

“I read.” She stated like it was the most obvious thing in the planet. “Now leave.”

“Right, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He promised, stroking a strand of her softly like he was afraid to touch her.

“Good night, dad.” She winked and jumped to the other side of the fence. Dean saw her small figure running back to the house. He walked back to his car and, before he got in, the lights of her room turned on and her cheeky face appeared at the window. She was showing him the exact box of bubble gum she wanted. Dean gave her a thumb up as a gesture that he understood and left.

For the rest of the week, he would park his car a few houses away and meet his daughter at the fence. They would talk about everything including the issues in Heaven and Castiel as well as the ridiculous things Mr. Culton would do to impress (Y/N).

One night, (Y/N) begged him to show her his car. Dean’s heart fluttered when the girl started quoting facts about that exact model and complimented his job at reconstructing her during the several accidents.

“When mom forgives you, can you give me a ride?” She inquired as they walked back to the house.

“Of course, where would you like me to take you?” She thought it for a second, pouting.

“As far as we can, so I can spend more time on it with you.” She smiled. The pink bubble gum was visible against one of her back teeth.

“Miss, you got yourself a deal.” Dean said as he lifted her over the fence to get her to the other side.

“You know?” She spoke before he left, “Mom always said you were a good man and I didn’t believe her because... You know.”

“I know…”

“But now,” She continued, “I agree with her.”

-

Dean was so happy to have finally bonded with his daughter. Of course, Sam was too but he insisted that it wasn’t a good idea to see Louise without (Y/N)’s permission, knowing that there were legal actions she could take.

“But she’s so smart!” Dean continued.

“I know, you’ve said it before.” Sam rolled his eyes but made sure to show his happiness with a smile.

“And her jokes!”

“We know.” Castiel added. He was very interested in Dean’s behaviour after meeting Louise.

“AND SHE SINGS!”

“Awesome…” Sam whispered, “What about (Y/N)?”

Of course, Dean hadn’t forgotten about her. Every week he would appear at her door to apologize. He gave her flowers, she threw them on his face; he got her an “I’m sorry” cake, and she took the lid off and threw it on his face. He had tried with all kinds of presents and none of them worked. Less to say, she wouldn’t receive the envelopes, instead, whenever he appeared, she would throw it back to him.

“Maybe she doesn’t need gifts…” Sam suggested, remembering how much of a simple girl (Y/N) was.

Louise tried to help him. She would list all the weird things Mr. Culton did so Dean avoided them, but even so (Y/N) didn’t want to see him.

-

That night, Dean arrived earlier than usual. He saw (Y/N) through the kitchen’s window, washing the dishes as Louise made a drawing at the table behind her. That was the kind of vision he wanted; (Y/N), Louise and him being a real family.

She was singing… It wasn’t the kind of singing one does to impress but rather the kind that comes out unconsciously. Dean’s heart fluttered at the sound of her voice; how much he missed her voice in the mornings, whispering his name…

Louise noticed him. She had the ears of a hunter, and so she made all kinds of faces for him to wait until (Y/N) left but he shook his head. He had decided to follow Sam’s advice.

Confidently, but inertly dying out of nerves, he knocked the door. Louise acted like she had no idea who that was and so (Y/N) dried her hands and opened. Before she could shut it on his face, Dean held the door and begged her for a chance.

“Begging doesn’t sit you, Winchester.” She hissed in a whisper.

“Mommy?” Louise called innocently, “Who is it?”

“No one, sweetie.” (Y/N) gave her a fake smile, “Just another sales man.”

Louis sighed heavily, jumping down of the chair with her drawing in hand and showing it to her.

“A sales man or my dad, Dean Winchester.” The tiny girl spoke. The drawing showed (Y/N) and Dean, holding hands with Louise sitting on his shoulders; there were hearts all around and flowers and dead monsters.

“What does your therapist says about the dead monsters in your drawings?” Dean inquired.

“She thinks it’s a reflection of my own nightmares that…” (Y/N) shut her mouth instantly, “Out!” She ordered.

“No, mom.” Louise begged.

“Honey, you don’t even know him!” (Y/N) squealed.

“Yes, I do.” Louise insisted and proceeded to confess her crimes.

“YOU TOOK MY DAUGHTER OUT OF THE HOUSE TO SHOW HER YOUR GODDAMN CAR?!” (Y/N) fumed once Louise finished.

“First of all, she’s our daughter.” Dean stated, “Second of all, you loved that car; and third of all, I took care of her and brought her back.”

They had stopped fighting with the door. (Y/N) kept it wide open but didn’t allow Dean to step in.

“I don’t care, Dean!” She insisted, “You can’t appear five years later and try to win her with Baby and bubble gum… Which by the way,” she turned to Louise, “you can’t chew bubble gum so late at night every day!”

“That’s exactly what I told her…” Dean mumbled.

“Yet you brought her more boxes and… And you don’t have the right to tell my daughter what to do!” (Y/N) exclaimed.

“Our daughter.” Dean repeated.

“No, you might’ve helped with bringing her… but the one that raised her and took care of and all of that is me.” (Y/N) fumed.

“She has a point.” Louise observed.

“Go to your room.” (Y/N) ordered.

“I think she has the right to listen to what I need to tell you.” Dean muttered.

“No! Parents talk about their problems while the kids play. Also, you can’t give me the contrary because we’re supposed to… I’m supposed to make the right decisions for her.” She corrected herself. Truth was, she had always dreamt of Dean coming back and being parents together but after the damage and pain Louise had suffered… The world would never understand the pain a mother feels when her child suffers.

“Please, (Y/N).” Dean begged.

“Please, mom.” Louise joined her. (Y/N) could resist a pair of green puppy eyes but too was too much to bear and so they ended up at the living room, with Dean sitting in front of the two girls ready to apologize.

“I’m an idiot.”

“Idiot is short.” (Y/N)interrupted.

“Fine, I’m more than an idiot… I’m an asshole, an awful person and I certainly don’t deserve your forgiveness. I was about to marry someone else… But when I was there, at the altar, I couldn’t think of anyone else but you, (Y/N).” He confessed, “I never stopped loving you, not even when we broke up, you have always been the love of my life. I broke my dad’s rules to marry you when we were young, and I broke my own heart and yours trying to keep you and Louise safe from hunting.”

“Which of course didn’t happen.” Louis whispered, receiving a stern glare from both of them.

“My point is that I suffered just as much as you did… I imagined every night how Louise would look like, and how her personality would be and you as a mother… And I tortured myself with those thoughts because I deserved it, and I never looked for you before because I thought I would be rewarding myself if I did and I deserved to be punished for… For kicking you out.”

“And now you’re back.” She muttered.

“I’m back because I don’t want any other life if it isn’t with you two… I don’t…  don’t expect you to take me back, not at least in five years…”

“Ten.” Louise stated.

“Ten years. But I want to be with you… I want to go to the movies with you and watch horror films, and I want to go hunting and I want to cook dinner and go to the park… Everything a father and a husband does…”

“Only father.” (Y/N) stated.

“We are still married, though… Remember?” Louise frowned, “The paper from Vegas wasn’t precisely official so there was no divorce to be made unless we went back to Vegas…”

“I don’t care, Dean.” (Y/N) whispered.

“I know.” He cleared his throat, “But please, let me try.”

“You were scared that your life would come after us…” (Y/N) muttered.

“And now my best friend is an Angel, I share drinks with the King of Hell and I have God’s number… I’m not really afraid anymore.” He confessed.

“God’s number?” (Y/N) inquired.

“Yup, remember Chuck?”

“I KNEW IT!” Dean chuckled.

“I can take care of you now… Please, give me a chance.” (Y/N) thought it for longer than Dean expected, sharing knowing glances with Louise.

“Weekends… And you can call her after school.” She finally stated, “If it’s true that you changed… We’ll see if it escalates from that.”

“I promise I’ll be the best father ever, right kiddo?” Louise giggled and they high fived.

“Right… It’s school day tomorrow so…” Dean nodded and got up.

“Right, sorry.” He said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

(Y/N) walked Dean out. “If you hurt her…”

“I won’t.” Dean promised. “I want to make things right with her… And you.” (Y/N) nodded, “In fact… Louise told me she has a sleep over next Friday… Maybe I could take you to the midnight show at the movies, like in the old times.”

She chuckled. “There’s no such thing anymore.”

“Then stargazing… Or I could show you the bunker where we live now and introduce you to Castiel… Sam would love to see you.” Dean insisted.

“Baby steps, Dean. You hurt us badly.” She said.

“Right, sorry.” (Y/N) bit her lips and, before he left, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Drive safe, and tell Sam and Castiel that they can come to dinner next weekend.” Dean smiled widely at her. She got back inside and Dean walked to Baby.

He took one last look the house and noticed Louise at the window giving him thumbs up cheerfully. Dean replied with the same gesture. Louise jumped away from the window, and two second later (Y/N) appeared where her daughter had been. She gave Dean a stern glare and he apologize silently. She shook her head and moved away. The lights of the room went out and so her left.

It would take him years, but he was sure he would get them back sooner or later.

*Requests are ALWAYS open.*

Masterlist.

Dean Tags: @coffeebreakandwinchesters @oaisara @rdy4thevoid Supernatural Tags: @dreamingintheimpalawithdean

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[stone-man-warrior]

April 18, 2019: 12:43 am:

I decided to take another adventure into socio-terrific Dystopia this evening.

I just returned from a third adventure to the Wal-Mart for the day. Earlier, went I went grocery shopping, I purchased some short pants, Wrangler brand Carpenter Shorts. I bought two pair, they were only $13.97 each. I picked up one in denim, and another in a different, lighter cotton fabric, size 34. I noticed that the denim variety seemed like they would be just right, maybe a little big, but denim shrinks. The other cotton Wrangler Carpenter shorts were much smaller, but marked size 34 on the hanger, on the cardboard packaging pocket tag, on the inseam tag, and on a sticker... all said size 34, just like the denim variety. They problem is that the denim seemed correct in size, and the other cotton variety seems at least two inches smaller. I bought both sets anyway, and before defending myself against the weapon wielding cashier, I showed her the pants, how they are at least two inches difference in size, but marked the same, and I asked about returning the ones that did not fit, since I had not tried them on, U really did not know which set was going to fit, or if the denims were just big and would shrink. The cashier said I can return them no problem. Cool.

So, after I git home, I tried them on, the denims fit, the other cotton variety I cannot get to my waist. They are at least two inches smaller than the way they are marked. So, at about 11:30 pm, I decided to go return them at the Wal-Mart, and since there are no public safety people, maybe I can take-out some more terrorists.

I had no problems getting to the Wal-Mart, with the exception of one terror watch-dog I encountered on the way to the Freeway. The terror watch-dogs sit at the corner of Three Pines and Monument, and at the Freeway on-ramp in a dirt field there. The cameras at 520 saw me leave, and the watch-dog was signaled to try to run me off the road. I have always managed to avoid being run off the road with only a few exceptions.

So, upon arriving at the Wal-Mart, there were two young black guys leaning against the wall inside of the store, near the McDonald’s. They too had been informed that I had left my home. As I walked past them, one said to the other, “Ok, this is the guy we are looking for, $50,000 to take him out”. I heard a “Snap” sound as I went by them.

I kept walking towards the Customer Service return counter. There was no one at the return counter and the lights were turned off. I went to check-out cashier and asked if there was someone that could do an exchange. The man at the check-out asked if I was bleeding. I said no.

he told me that the returns close at ten, and open at seven.

I left, walked past the two black guys again, heard another “Snap” sound. and saw a flash of light, One of the men said “I get the car”. I kept walking towards my car.

So, I could not return the pants tonight. I decided to go to find a cheeseburger. In Grants Pass, after ten o’clock, there are not many choices for a cheeseburger. I went to In-&-Out Burger, against my better judgement.

I pulled into the In-&-Out Burger at 11:57 wondering if they would still be serving. They were.

As I got out of my car and walked to the door, one of the two cars in the parking lot sounded their horn, announcing my arrival. Everyone in this town wants me dead, and I am the last American, so I am easy to find, since I am the only person who does not have the comm devices they use. I do not respond to the commands of the terror army the way the rest of them do when they are spoken to on their comm devices. I have a one-way, out only comm, that is much louder than the terror army comm, but mine is implanted in my jaw, I can;t turn it off and it was put there by force.

So, I went inside, and the gal that works the counter late at night was the same as the last time I went there late. She is a white female, about 25 years old, about 5′5, and very thin. She has dark hair, a long horse face with big teeth. I ordered my food. She asked how my evening was going and I replied with telling here about going to Wal-Mart only to find that the exchange counter was closed, so I decided to come to In-&-Out. She asked me to turn down my comm. I said I cannot do that. She took my order and asked if I was “Myers”. I said “Wal-Mart”.

I paid with debit card and the gal turned around and walked to the drive up window. As she did that, she said to the other gal that works the grill “We have to poison this guy”. She said that load enough that I could hear here. I said “No, you don’t have to poison this guy, do not poison this guy”.

I sat and waited for my food. A couple came into the restaurant, a very large man, about 30 years old, with red hair and red beard, about 6′3″ and about 300 pounds. He was with a very large woman, about 30 years old, about 5′5″, and also about 300 pounds. The woman had a small nose ring, the man had a very large tattoo of a bullhead on his right calf. The bulls eyes are winking in the tattoo. These two are the same two that were there the last time I was in the In-&-Out late at night, they are assassins.

The woman began engaging in coded communication with the cashier gal with the hose face and big teeth. She said “ I hear a two-three in here, I am allergic to them and half to take them out.

Horse face girl replied, “It’s in the booth.”

(a two-three is a “tooth-free”, it means there is a prisoner that has a prisoners comm and she can hear it, the couple are sentry’s)

So the horse face girl then took out a plastic card, like a debit card but a little more fancy. She put the card into the debit machine that I had used. My debit card has a chip on it. The card she used in the debit machine retrieved the transaction information from the debit machine that I had made a moment ago, she knew my name after putting that card into the debit machine and pushing some buttons, she had to insert the card twice. Then, she announced my name, and said “It’s him”. Then, she spoke onto her comm, and said “I need a bake on a black on black at the counter”.

I was wearing a black shirt and black hat. Bake means “shoot”.

As my order became ready, a gal with green colored hair quickly came in the restaurant. As she approached the counter area, she reached to upholster a vaginally holstered .25 caliber gun. When the gals do that, it looks as if they are curtsying. A little squat sort of a maneuver while reaching into their pants. The gun went off, and she said “I’m shot internal”, and turned around and left. She had only been inside the building for less than one minute. She came in, reached fir the gun, it went off, she turned around and left. I lit my lighter as she reached fir the gun. As she went out the front door, I was right behind her, and her gas tank ignited. The gal with the green hair, the “baker”, launched across the parking lot and out of sight.

So, that’s another terror soldier dead. If it was not for what I do, there would not be any resistance to the #SAGcoup. None. The terrorists have been going so long without resistance, with no one ever fighting back for fifty years, that they do not know what to do when someone does fight back. That works real good fir me. I wish US Military would take over, I am getting too old to be the only person protecting the USA.

Please send help to Oregon.