#(i have 50 quid to my name)

[heartz4shauna]

the way courtney eaton is not constantly booked and busy is appalling

JUST LOOK AT HER

[cursedalthoughts]

SHIPGIRL APPRECIATION DAY - Chkalov

Chkalov, a Priority Research aircraft carrier. The only PR from the Northern Parliament (at least so far), Chkalov is fairly unique. Her tactics involve deploying whole squadrons of aircraft to attack in unison, delivering devastating blows against single targets.

Created from the Project 71B blueprints, Chkalov is vaguely related to Volga - the other aircraft carrier of the Parliament, even if only teniously. I can not find information on what Volga is based of, but I assume she's inspired by this line of aircraft carrier projects the real-life Soviet Union developed.

Chkalov is not only unique because of her role as the only PR of the Parliament; she's also unique personality and design-wise. How many shipgirls have you seen who have normal, ordinary high heels in their rigging? You can probably name a bunch, but they're the exception to the rule. She's a scientist - if the large white lab coat wasn't an obvious giveaway already - and she specializes in data analysis. And she's good at it.

Her rigging is one of the last from the Northern Parliament to follow this hard edge scifi aesthetic, as practically all shipgirls post-Chkalov had had a more frostpunk aesthetic, while Chkalov herself has an "Ironblood but icy" vibe. The only thing that truly makes Chkalov's rigging unique from the rest is that it's a scorpion. Scorpions can't survive in northern latitudes, not for long; and the guy she's named after (Valeri Chkalov) wasn't a scorpion guy, he was an important test pilot for the Soviet Union (if my googling is correct lol)

Personality-wise, Chkalov is a bit... horny. Not Atago-style or Chapayev-style horny, however. She's less obvious, but potentially more than most other shipgirls that fall under this category. She likes her quid pro quos - you do a thing for me and I do a thing for you, and she doesn't care if what you ask in return is depraved. She'll do it. She enjoys that. This is simply because she sees that sort of intimacy as just one more form of spending time with you. Chkalov doesn't see sex as a tool to manipulate you, or a medium to an end other than to kill some time. To Chkalov, sex can be like two good friends deciding to go get some fast food late at night.

And no, while I do call her a whore (affectionate), I think her way of thinking is sound and logic. At least for a shipgirl.

Also she's bisexual. As 50/50 split as it can get.

PS: she has ADHD too.

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

My brainrot for Chkalov leans more on the lewd side, yes. that's what you get with her. i think she's an amazing character.

[mintymelty]

YHS: A Serialization [] 2. Quid Quo Pro

════ ⋆💙⋆ ════

💙: “And that’s why the people here are brainwashed.”

💛: “Katherine… I just asked you how your first period was. There’s no need for that tinfoil hat. I swear- You see ONE teenager with manners and you think the school’s water supply’s been sabotaged to keep us compliant.”

💙: “It hasn’t?”

💛: “NO.”

💙: “Dang… well besides that this school’s nice IG.”

💛: “Did- Did you just say IG out loud?? And you don’t sound out the letters-”

💙: “Shut up!! Just tell me what happened in your class.”

💛: “OKAY, well I just finished the first draft of my introductory essay and applied for the NHS program. You know, nothing that special.”

💙: “Cool, cool…”

💛: “You didn’t start your outline yet, haven’t you?”

💙: “Oh my god- okay I don’t have any ideas for it, KIM. If you’re so good at writing and stuff why don’t you give me an idea?”

💛: “It’s an essay about you. I’m evidently not you, so I can only give an outsider’s view for your essay.”

💙: “Well what’s your opinion of me or whatever?”

💛: “Loud, impatient, impulsive-“

🧪: “Ms. Phan, what elements do you add to to create the compound ‘gold’?

💛: “Umm… you add element 79 and.. um..”

💙: “Ms. Fletcher, gold’s already an element. You don’t add anything.”

🧪: “Good job Ms. Nguyen. Ms. Phan, make sure you think over the questions before answering, after all arrogance leads to failure.”

💛💙: “…Okay?”

🧪: “Anyways, today we will go over class rules and lab requirements. I expect the packet and fee turned in to me by this Friday.”

💛: “… and occasionally smart.”

◁◁ ► ▷▷

OKAY ME close call! Ms. Fletcher passed out a packet on the class rules and the lab requirements. Unfortunately I need to pay a 50 dollar fee to cover lab equipment expenses.. and it’s due this week…and I’m not gonna beg Kim for money (it would be shameful to my ancestors) so I’ll see if anyone’s willing to lend me some…

◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

🗣 “ERM… what do you mean you don’t have any phone cases for sale? GO AWAY, thank yew.”

👤 “Oh no! I left my wallet at home! Sorry… anyways so Lily are you still up for the mall?”

🐼: “Yeah, actually. You can do something for me.”

💙: “REALLY? Thank you so much-“

🐼: “No problem girl! My name’s Olivia but my friends call me Liv.”

💙: “Thanks, Liv-“

🐼: “Olivia.”

💙: “Oh.. well thank you anyways. What do you need?”

🐼: “Ah.. you see, I was “hanging out” somewhere at school with my boyfriend James and I kinda lost a pendant someone gave me.”

💙: “Okay.. where tho?”

🐼: “…ᵇᵒʸˢ ˡᵒᶜᵏᵉʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ.”

💙: “What?”

🐼: “Sausage zone.”

💙: “OH! OKAY uhh…” Oh god. I’ll be smelling like axe for the rest of the week, and that’s if I can even get in there. “I’ll try.. what does the pendant look like?”

🐼: “Oh it’s like yellow with a red inside. You’ll know it when you see it.”

💙: “Alright.. you’ll give me the 50 dollars if I do it, right?”

🐼: “Yep! I’ll even give a good word about you to my friends, and not to brag or anything, but if my clique likes you, your life will be MUCH easier.”

💙: “Then it’s a deal! See ya soon.”

════ ⋆💙⋆ ════

[quill-of-thoth]

Letters from Watson: The Man with the Twisted Lip

Crimes in Context. Sit down bloggers, it's time for a few rounds with my current least-favorite monetary system, and an actual scale of the wealth difference between the poorest and wealthiest Victorians. I already did some math here, where @thethirdromana did some research regarding other contemporary math failures about begging. I swear this will be interesting after we get through the math.

Imperial Currency Definitions

Pound, or "quid" or "pound sterling": Literally one pound of silver coins. (Sterling is a silver alloy.) The gold coin representing it was called a Sovereign. It's worth 240 pennies or 20 shillings. There was also a gold half-sovereign. (120 pennies, 10 shillings...)

Shilling: 1/20th of a pound. A silver coin. Penny also pence, but only as a plural: 1/240th of a pound, or 1/12th of a shilling. Confusingly, there were silver pennies, copper pennies, and bronze pennies, with the exact same value, during the 1800's - silver pennies were minted specifically for royal charity, to be given out on Maundy Thursday. (The day before Good Friday.)

A lot of victorian accounts are written in Pounds, shillings, pennies, represented as L/s/d, but there were also other coins. I do not like them any better than this setup, but they provide context, so here we go.

Guinea: One pound and one shilling. Not it's own coin by the 1890's, since the last ones were minted in 1814, probably because they're stupid. I've seen it cited that if a professional gentleman was paid a guinea he got the pound and his clerks or assistants got the shilling.

Crown: Five shillings / a quarter pound. Represented by a silver coin.

Sixpence / Fourpence (Groat) / threepence / twopence (half-groat): conveniently, the numbers within the name tell you all you need to know. These were silver but twopence was also only minted for Maundy money during this era. Halfpenny / Ha'penny: Half a penny, a bronze coin. Farthing: A quarter of a penny, also a bronze coin, presumably for transactions like buying a single egg or leaving an extremely insulting tip.

Typical Wages:

Poverty: Laborers and factory workers may get anything from 4 shillings (0.2 pounds) to 1 pound per week. Women and children were routinely paid much less for the same work as men. Francis Moulton's 8s room from The Noble Bachelor cost up to two weeks wages per night. If an average adult male working in a factory was paid about 1 pound per week, he would make about 50-52 pounds per year. If a maid was paid 4 shillings a week, she would make about 10 pounds a year. If a child was paid 1 shilling a week, they would make about two and a half pounds a year. My sources cited a variety of years from 1860 on, so take all of these as ballpark estimates. The difference between 10 pounds and 50 pounds per year doesn't sound that stark, but today it's the equivalent of 1,000 pounds (1,200 USD) and 5,000 pounds (6,000 USD). Neither is enough to live on now, and it wasn't enough to live independently then, but it's the difference between living on L 2.7 / USD 3.2 a day and L 13.7 / USD 16.4 per day: You starve a lot faster at that first rate.

(Obligatory note that live in servants often had it better than factory workers making the same wage on account of having room and board provided as part of their compensation. Hence why a governess - a gentlewoman in distress - considers L50 a year a fairly comfortable wage: she's not paying rent, or for the bulk of her food. Like today's population of new graduates teaching English abroad.)

Comparative Wealth: Neville St. Clair states he's making about L 700 a year by begging. This is the equivalent of 71,000 pounds / 85,200 USD today. It's about the same salary as a modern university chairperson. At the time of this story it's enough to live in an upper middle class suburb very securely, with several servants. It is, however, an absolute bullshit number. To acquire five hundred and sixty six (ish) pennies per day, in 691 coins, St Clair probably had upwards of five hundred people toss him a coin. Presuming that the reason nobody gave him twopence was low circulation of that specific coin, we can estimate that few, if any, people gave him three pence or more, judging by a lack of any of three pence, four pence, or sixpence coins. (There also aren't any farthings but I'm not sure what 0.25 pennies could actually buy you in those days. Possibly people who had any money to spare didn't carry them.) If Neville works his corner for just long enough to get home by the 5:15 train, and it takes him maybe ten minutes to change out of his disguise, it's a reasonable assumption that he leaves his corner by 4:30 ish. He isn't noted as leaving particularly early in the mornings either, so I'm going to roughly estimate that he works about eight hours a day. If so he is earning more than a penny per MINUTE begging. He's getting someone throwing him a penny every 55ish seconds. There's a line of his benefactors dropping coins into his hat. Threadneedle street was home to the Bank of England and the London Stock Exchange: presumably St. Clair picked this location because people going to and from either actually had some money to spare. But it also leads to an inevitable alternate idea: since it's impossible for St. Clair to be regularly making two pounds a day begging, perhaps his beggar disguise is for more criminal reasons... perhaps a long running plot to rob the bank? Either he is casing the place or he's a lookout. Or perhaps he's the accomplice of a clerk skimming his own pound or two a day out of the change from deposits, handing it over to St. Clair whenever he walks out for lunch or at the end of his day so that he's never discovered with a truly stupid amount of pennies.

And as far as Holmes is concerned... he's brilliantly deduced the bizarre portion of this case. Who cares that the scale of the begging is impossible? The Victorian middle class could be just as blinded by propaganda regarding the poor as we can be today. Even though there were no official public services and the myth of the welfare queen is a modern invention there were definitely people who resented the entire idea of charity: human nature has not completely changed in the last 130 years.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (804): Wed 29th May 2024

Up at half five AM with only four hours sleep but it doesn’t matter to someone who’s waited over a decade to see the mighty Jane’s Addiction. I got a taxi to the town and had half an hour to spare before so I went to get something to eat. There was a food cart with jacket potato’s listed on the menu so I ordered one with coleslaw but the lass behind the counter said the jacket potatoes would be ready until 11am so I burned the cart down. Waste of fucking time. I settled for some sausage rolls from Greggs and on the way to the coach a homeless guy asked me for change so I gave him a quid . As I walked away he was joined by a lass in sparkly pink sweatpants who started screaming and twitching. I wondered if maybe this was their act, that in exchange for money he gets his girlfriend with severe mental health problems to do some sort of odd transgressive art piece. We hadn't been on the road five minutes before someone got up to use the toilet which was right next to me, then one my one over the course of the next hour or so a different person would come up to spend a penny. Didn’t any of you think to take a piss before the bus came? It’s not like GoNorthEast where the cunts just turn up whenever the feel like it, National Express arrive on time so you knew how long you had. For the first hour and a half of the journey I re-watched the brilliant comedy movie Rat Race. More than almost any other comedy I've seen Rat Race manages to make it's characters brilliantly cartoonish and believably realistic at the same time. Once we got into London I used my Googlemaps to locate the hostel in Camden which was just a few minutes walk from the train station. After dumping my stuff at the hostel I went for a little shop around Camden market which is fucking amazing and the one reason why I'd be willing to live in London as it would provide me with all my everyday needs such as cooky clothes and…..nope that's pretty much it. Although I’ve already booked a coach home for tomorrow it’s at half seven in the morning and that means having to speed across the city on the tube so I decided that since there was a train ticket going for the fairly cheap price of £50 I would snap this up since Kings Cross is only a ten minute walk from my hostel. I set off for the show at half six but as usual I got there too early and had to sit through the opening act who I'm not even going to bother Googling to get the name of. While they were on I went and sat against a wall and genuinely read a hundred pages of Jules Verne’s Five Weeks In A Balloon on my phone, that's how unimpressive they were. Jane's Addiction finally took to the stage (after what felt like an eternal tease with a lengthy drum solo over the speakers) and the Roundhouse lost it's collective shit. They were dressed in trench coats and cowboy hats like The Undertaker and Perry Farrell has pretty much the same American Joe Pasquale voice he's always had which was cool. Throughout the night there was a hot red headed lass leaning on the same wall as me and she kept edging closer to me as the set went on. Then just as she was getting within chatting distance some bald cunt and his ugly wife came and stood in between us. I really wish these two had been in that baked potato cart that I burned to the ground this morning. Over the course of the night I was treated to some of the groups greatest hits such as Ocean SIze and Been Caught Stealing as well as a few new songs from the new album which I'll have to check out. For a while it seemed like Jane's Addiction would be one of the bands on the bucket list I'd never get to see as their tours are few and far between and it's not like the band members are getting any younger. However good things come to those who wait and after a decade of waiting I can now cross Jane's Addiction off the list.

[sp00kymulderr]

Hi Gideon! 🤍 For the Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game:

🪐 🦷 🍄 🦋

(I'm nosy, sorry 🤭)

Love you 🤍🤍🤍

Hi lovely micado ❤️ you can be as nosy as you want my love! Answers under the read more:

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

Oh god right off the bat with a tough one! Umm why is it so difficult to think of good things

1 - things are going really good in my new job, a lot of great feedback from senior management. It's just a job, but I'm enjoying it a lot more than I have any other recently.

2 - Getting my creative groove back after a bit of a slump. I'm writing things! And I'm having fun!

3 - Um. Won like 50 quid on the lottery this week loll

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

Water. I believe in water for everything. Headache? Drink some water. Tired? Drink some water. Grumpy? Drink some water. I love water lmao

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

The only ship I ship is from my own fic lol so idk if it counts as a headcanon but Dieter and Eva (from Cherry) got matching tattoos on their wedding day.

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

Family. I feel too much, and too many differing emotions about what my obligations are to my family. I can't really explain this one, but it's been on my mind constantly.

ty for asking!

Writers truth & dare ask game

[manysmallhands]

Extra: The National - Bloodbuzz Ohio

(I wrote this at a time when I thought this was going in to my FearOfMu21c 50, but in the end i decided to switch it out for something else. I thought I might as well put it up here for full disclosure: I spent some time on it and someone might find it entertaining. There is one more extra but i haven't decided if I'll put that up yet, i might do it when everything else is finished)

Released - March 24 2010; Highest Chart Position - DNC ; Indie chart - #19 

I really hate The National but I do love Bloodbuzz Ohio. It used to get played a lot on 6 Music during the early 10s and I’d get excited every time i heard it because of how drab the rest of the playlist sounded in comparison. In that era of what I will forever term chunky knitted sweater rock, Bloodbuzz soared miles above the competition, wistful and panoramic but with the kind of spark and ferocity that a million other trad rock bands seemed to be entirely incapable of. The image that it brings to mind is of something like a stately home burning to the ground.

Sadly, it’s their only good song. I didn’t even have to buy their album to find this out as 6 continued to play their singles, all of which sounded much the same (same off-beat drum pattern, same mumbled vocal) except with none of the things that made Bloodbuzz such a banger. Many years later I bought it anyway for two quid, willing to be proven wrong somehow. Sadly, this did not occur: it really does suck and they’ve only themselves to blame.

In some cases like this I might have been put off of my fave - it’s easy to drift away from something when you find its creators profoundly boring - but Bloodbuzz somehow keeps on coming back into my life. It remains their radio hit of choice on 6 where it never fails to give me a nostalgic boost and whenever it finds its way onto music twitter I am always sure to tell everybody that, despite The National being actively bad, I still really really like just that one song. Though my instinct is to wince whenever I see The National’s name,  I find that I cannot make it go away: Bloodbuzz Ohio is a masterpiece, albeit a masterpiece by a band who are genuinely bad. 

Hate The National. Love Bloodbuzz. Simple as.

[toyahinterviews]

TONIGHT WITH JONATHAN ROSS, CHANNEL 4, 9.1.1991

JONATHAN: If I could choose just one word to describe my next guest, it would be versatility. Her music career has seen her labelled as the thinking man's punk, but she has also turned up on the big screen in such films as "The Tempest" and "Quadrophenia"   Most recently you might have seen her on TV in "Cluedo" standing in the parlour next to Colonel Mustard clutching a lead pipe. Did she do it? Let's find out  - Toyah Willcox! Thank you for joining us! TOYAH: Pleasure JONATHAN: Last time I met you was on "Sunday Sunday", you'd been sort of forced to go around town with Paul Daniels. Must’ve been horrible for you? TOYAH: Oh, it was terrible (the audience laughs) JONATHAN: I was surprised because I followed your singing career. I'd bought a few of your records back in the early 80s - TOYAH: You admit to that?!

JONATHAN: I do. I don't play them anymore but I bought them (Toyah laughs) But because then you started acting and I thought you just started acting but you'd been acting before - TOYAH: Oh yeah, I started acting when I was about 18. I was at National Theatre in a play with Kate Nelligan, directed by Maximilian Schell. Got very good reviews. Then I formed a band and started to have hit singles JONATHAN: And then after that - your acting probably is just as important now I guess as the music side, if not more so? TOYAH: Both acting and singing are really important. I just want to do both really well and I think it takes a lifetime. You just have little obstacles in your way, especially with singing like ageism and sexism and stuff like that. But you just get on with it and do the job JONATHAN: So do you find that now - you're getting on a bit, you're a bit older than you were ... (the audience laugh) We’re all getting slightly older ...

TOYAH: I'm very optimistic. I find singing - it's a tough industry to work in. And I think by female terms in the music business, especially the pop business I'm getting on a bit, but I'm not going to go away JONATHAN: You’ve acted with some great (names) but you were in a TV film with Laurence Olivier, based on the John Fowles book ("The Ebony Tower") I remember but also at the moment you're seen in the commercials for "Mum" antiperspirant (Toyah looks awkard, the audience laughs) The reason why I’m raising that is I just wonder - because I've done a few commercials purely for cash myself as well, Toyah ... (the audience laugh)      No one does it out the love of the product purely. We had (the DJ) Andy Kershaw on the show last week and he was advertising a spot cream and I think if you have to choose why go for something like a spot cream or an antiperspirant? They're not the most sexy subjects to be associated with - TOYAH: I’d rather go for them than a bank! JONATHAN: Would you really? 

TOYAH: Yeah! I mean, number one, it was at the time when Ark was just being launched and celebrity has power. Ark was asking a lot of celebrities to try and inform the public of the power they have as consumers to stop things like CF gasses going on super supermarket shelves. The "Mum" thing came along, OK, I did it and I got paid very well and that meant it gave me the choice of what work I could do for the next few years   I made two albums on it. I could work in theatre, because usually in theatre per week you get about 50 quid to go home with and thanks to the "Mum" advert  not only did I do my bit to combat CF gases, but I also had enough money to choose what work I wanted to do JONATHAN: So whenever when anyone buys a little tube of "Mum" they're sponsoring one of your albums? Would that be … ? (Toyah cackles) Do you not think we should put a warning on the packet or something? If they’re unhappy with the deal? I'm not saying they would be but  - (Toyah laughs) TOYAH: Not only are they buying a very good antiperspirant but they're actually buying a wonderfully phallic symbol JONATHAN: Oh, well ...

TOYAH: When we did that advert we spent the whole day trying to get me to hold this product without it looking as if it was my vibrator (the audience laughs, Jonathan looks jokingly deep in though as if thinking about it) JONATHAN: I'd hazard a guess that the outtakes for that pass for quite a lot of money (Toyah and the audience laugh) So you're still doing music then? You have some new -

TOYAH: Yeah I've got a new album out next month called "Ophelia’s Shadow" which is kind of my answer to "Hamlet". There's a kind of big speech in "Hamlet" where - JONATHAN: That sounds quite a pathway to sort of - you've got one of the possibly finest plays ever written and you've got an album as an answer to it - TOYAH: Yeah because Hamlet says to a Ophelia: “Get thee to a nunnery. Go! Get thee gone! God gives you one face - you make yourself another. You lisp, you amble, you make monsters of us.” And the way it's written Ophelia says “Oh, what a noble mind is here overthrown.”   My album has changed the inflection on that and Ophelia says (mockingly) “Oh my, what a noble mind is overthrown.” (sticks two fingers up as if to say f off) So I mean ... my Ophelia doesn't drown herself JONATHAN: So you've made the ending a bit happier then? TOYAH: I’ve re-written it

JONATHAN: It's kind of like the Dynasty (an 80's TV series) people would have done. “Give us Hamlet (but) give us a happy ending”. Is it that kind of thing? TOYAH: After doing "The Tempest" with Derek Jarman – Derek completely rewrote "The Tempest" so I thought well, I'll give it a try JONATHAN: When you look back on your earlier albums, on the kind of 80s stuff, the hit singles, "It’s A Mystery" and "Sheep Farming In Barnet", which I remember very fondly (Toyah giggles and the audience laugh) Now, what do you feel about them? TOYAH: I don’t look back. I don't look back because I'm ashamed. I'm not ashamed, but it's history. And I think the 80s is really history. I think we are aeons away from that decade and I just don't relate to it JONATHAN: We just put a photo up of you (below) in one of your incarnations modelling what looks to the early Gloria Hunniford – (the audience laugh) TOYAH: Yeah, that's the early "Mum" advert - JONATHAN: It’s the full under arm expose – I see that

TOYAH: Use "Mum"! I just don’t look back. What's the point of looking back? Life's ahead of us. Life I think is a pretty short thing whether you live to old age or not - it goes really quickly. What's the point of looking back? JONATHAN: Another project you’re involved in … You work really hard, you're involved in all sorts of things but you're also doing something with the "Survival" (a nature documentary) programme, is that right? TOYAH: Yeah, I've done the kind of - what's it called … the narration for "Survival Factor" which is on Channel 4 every Tuesday. I read one critic where the critic said “wear your raincoat if you listen to Toyah Willcox, narrating this programme” - JONATHAN: That's because of your lisp (Toyah cackles). Because I was always surprised you had a hit single with (puts on a bad lisp) "It's A Mystery" - TOYAH: (with an over the top lisp) It’s a mystery - JONATHAN: Because I've had a similar problem myself (Toyah laughs) Maybe we should get together and do a duet. That'd be nice

TOYAH: I’ll take you up on that JONATHAN: Me, you and Pete Beale from EastEnders (they all laugh) You said life is short. This show is far far shorter. Thanks for coming on -  Toyah Willcox! 

Watch the interview HERE 

[dawnluvspossums]

Perfect Ending to a solid, plugged-in day. The cards were right on target & so much so, I couldn't have done better if I had picked them myself. Adaptation, innovation, enthusiasm, & perseverance on this difficult & unusual, & spiritually rewarding path with a boatload of help from the sweetest little spirits here & others who have crossed. Btw, in case anyone caught them & was wondering if my camera lens was in need of cleaning earlier today (story photos), the answer is: that's what I thought, too. I cleaned the lens, & it is what it is. I'm just now becoming able to see certain things during the day. It's another damn that's broken with the crossing of someone I was close to, & this started when Frank passed. Prior to that, I could only see "these" in the dark. They sure are interesting, & they sure aren't allowed in my bedroom anymore (freaked me the fk out!), so I guess this is just the official new location (outside between myself & the sun, the same as where Frank was). I have a Ouija board that I had bought for my Mom (when she was still in this realm), & I've used it, but it freaks me out too much, & I prefer sticking with Tarot for help with interpretation. It's worked good for me & has been a sort of outta the box way I use them to work with the way I plug into & experience things vs. as less connected "talk at you" way they are traditionally used. Best psychic suggestion ever & I have Flash Silvermoon to thank for that (as well as some mind-blowing readings!). Wow, that's a name I haven't thought about for a very long time. Hmmm... Maybe Olivia found me? 🤔 Man, what I'd do for a meeting with .@psychicmediumje, but it would have to be pro bono via a quid pro quo & yes, I think I could guarantee a solid 50/50 interaction. Actually, unless the timing was absolutely perfect, it would probably turn out 70/30 or even 80/20 in HIS favor, & I should be the one selling a ticket, but hey, I do it all pro bono for a higher cause, not that I even get a choice! 😆🥰😇 I really would like to know who all these visitors are. Only about half a dozen have been able to make it crystal clear, with Muggles winning in the "You can't ignore THIS" department. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm70nCWOr0n/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[garfieldsladybird]

Oh no, he was harmless and probably very lovely, it’s just that he was so tall and thin that it was giving a bit of slender man. Town was really quiet so I don’t think that helped (also I am 5 foot 1, so he seemed a lot taller 💀)

Today me and my friends went out and did some mini golf and watched Minions Rise of Gru and I fell asleep for a bit near the end 👀👀. There was a seven year old boy behind us in golf and he was so much better than me. My friends got 50-56 in their scores and I got 71 :/

(We went into the shops and I bought a fluffy pink blanket because I find cinemas SO cold ❄️❄️)

I’m in bed rn and I’m so tired 😴

(ALSO I GOT BACK FROM MY DADS YESTERDAY AND IVE BEEN AN EMOTIONAL WRECK - he bought me a fan that was like 100 quid and it arrived today and now I feel horrid because I don’t want to see him until like Xmas. (He didn’t tell me he bought it or I would have stopped him))

anyways

How are you? Are you ready for school? I think you’re starting soon aren’t you?

all of that is great!

I saw the same movie a few days ago or like a week ago but it was great! I guessed some of the scenes a few times and I told my sister next to me and she was like ‘goddamn. why you got to predict everything.’ but I loved the movie!!

you did way better than them on the mini golf..? cuz you got 71.. or no cuz you put :/ that face. I haven’t played mini golf in so long tho

we have this pink fluffy blanket on this beanbag that we have and the beanbag is actually purple but the whole blanket is just covering it. it’s not that soft tho :( is yours soft? and cinemas are so cold I always bring a blanket :)

are you glad you’re back from your dads? are you at your moms now? cuz he bought it for you, do you think he means good..? or was it just a thing you needed.? or did he buy it just to buy your affection? like yk when a parent does something shitty and they just buy you something to make up for it.. ig. idrk.. I hope it’s a good fan and i hope you enjoy it too! and be happy :)

I don’t really know what to say about the parent stuff because eh parents. I have a good relationship with one (kinda, getting there) while I don’t with the other. (I mean I do but with the way things are going I don’t) && honestly, I just let go of all the anger that I’ve held toward both of them, mostly ‘cause some of it was unnecessary and I know some things will never change, and I said im done, and now im living my life. not saying you have to let go of the anger because somethings cannot be forgiven… but I kind of just accepted that they are them while I am me and I don’t wanna live my life like them or be like them and also live my life in complete anger and just make everything about life down and miserable… so I’d rather be happy then make everything negative.

I am ready for school!! I went clothes shopping two times now and show shopping too! I might go again but I don’t know.. and for my backpack this year its a satchel!! I really can’t wait to use it <3  i start on the 8th with my sister and its also a new school! for both of us, she’s a 9th grader while im a 10th grader so we might not have classes together but I’m also taking drama this year and I can’t wait!!! oh I hope this year is really good <3

as for just me doing I am doing really well! though I have a lot of writers block right now.. i’m still doing like amazing!! ;)) how are you doing?? I send you love 💞💞 and also I want to make a tag for you so can I call you pearl or do you have a name I can call you.. (it does not have to be your real name)

[luxwritesfanfic]

Green Light

John’s got the reader sweating and by the end of the night Mrs. Hudson will have flour where the sun doesn’t shine. Or, the one where John realizes Cupid’s got his work cut out for him when it comes to a certain high-functioning sociopath and his oblivious idiot. Enjoy!

Platonic!John/Reader, Sherlock Holmes/Reader

“What do you see when you look at him?”

You were contemplating between the mozzarella, sharp cheddar, and the Mexican four cheese for the baked ziti when you looked up at him. Mrs. Hudson’s birthday was coming up and she had decided she wanted to host a dinner party with all of her friends. That really meant her beloved tenants and /their/ friends. She had asked you to run to the store for her to get some ingredients and John being ever the gentleman agreed to tag along. “Huh?” You had no idea what he was on about and he could see it on your face as clear as day which earned you a pair of raised eyebrows and a grin that you only knew would lead to no good. 

He dropped the two salad mixes into the cart and braced himself against the other end of it. “Sherlock. What do you see when you look at Sherlock?” At the name drop you squint your eyes and tilt your head, trying to see what he was getting at. “I’m not sure I’m understanding.” John held your stare for a few moments before nodding dismissively. 

“Very well then.” With that, he turned on his heels to lead towards the meats, weaving his way between the other people and carts. You followed after him, murmuring your own apologies and pardons to people as you tried to keep up. You stopped the cart in the middle of the empty aisle and reached into your coat pocket to pull out the grocery list Mrs. Hudson had made for you. “So looks like we still need-“ “It’s just that we all look at him like he’s from Mars and it looks like you see something different. That’s all.” John interrupted as he made it seem like he was deep in thought trying to pick the best ground beef package. Rolling your eyes, you turned to the opposite side of the aisle and reached in one of the freezers to grab some boxes of garlic bread. “And what exactly would I be seeing, John?” “You tell me, dear.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, he was definitely challenging you and you had decided then that you liked John Watson a lot more when he wasn’t talking. Just as you were dropping the boxes in the cart and prepared to flip the conversation by asking how he and Sarah (or whatever her name was this week) were doing, you heard your phone go off. Out of biscuits. SH “And he’s got a special tone. It’s really like that, is it?” He throws a few packages of beef in the cart and takes control of it, pushing down the aisle while you’re still thumbing a reply. It didn’t take much for him to notice how much you cared about his best friend and he thought it was sweet. He just couldn’t let you know that without a little snark first. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You murmur nonchalantly and follow after him, making a point to grab a box of biscuits off the endcap as you turn the aisle. “Oh, of course you don’t. That would be too convenient.” He reaches out to take the biscuits from your hands and throw them in the cart for you all while making a beeline for the wine. That particular conversation finally dies off and you almost jump for joy. You and John spend some time picking out a few different wines to pair with dinner and a few to store away for a rainy day with no cases. You both agree that you should get Mrs. Hudson some flowers and spend some time building the perfect bouquet. “You should be a pro at this, John,” you teased, “you spend a lot of time buying flowers for different women. You must be able to read them like a book.” Not realizing you had just set yourself up, you wrapped the bouquet and smirked all triumphant and regained control of the cart. “Right, right. So then you see why I can read you so well.” Damnit. “Okay I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You win. Truce?” You batted your eyes and gave him your very best smile as you pulled out the list once more to be sure you two had gotten everything. “Since you don’t know what you see when you look at him, what do you think he sees when he looks at you like that?” John crosses his arms expectantly and raises an eyebrow and you curse him for still being able to see the fondness in his features. You throw your head back and groan. He was never gonna let this go. You sighed dramatically and shoved the paper back in your pocket and began the trek down the aisle once more. “I don’t know, John. The same thing you see, I guess.” “A hopelessly oblivious gal with a penchant for annoying dicks? Oh, sorry. I didn’t think the last lad you were seeing was that bad. A penchant for one annoying dick.” He was loving every second of this. “For the record, I was never seeing Bucky. We’re good friends, that’s all. He brings a sense of normalcy into my life and I need that with all I go through with you two.” You pointed at him and waved your hand to try and dismiss the conversation for the millionth time today and put a little more pep in your step to create some distance between you two. John could only smile at the fact that you never denied his first assumption and jogged to catch up with you. You had made your way to the self checkout and began to start scanning your items, relieved at the beeps and murmurs of the machines and other customers  to give you peace from the conversation. John moved to start putting the bags into the cart as you filled them. You two made a good team even with something as mundane as grocery shopping. He didn’t look at you as he spoke, more sincere than he had been all day. 

“I just want you to know I think it would work.” You hesitated and hoped it wasn’t as telling as you thought it was. The conversation was suddenly very real and you felt the air change around you. You kept swiping your groceries and hoped it would ground you so you wouldn’t get overwhelmed in the moment. 

“How?” You all but whispered, praying you didn’t sound as small as you suddenly felt. If John heard your weakness, he didn’t let you know. He continued to load the bags into the buggy. “Haven’t the faintest. I just know you’re good to him, and I think he could learn how to be good to you. If he understood what he was missing, he’d want to learn.” You nodded and couldn’t find it in yourself to respond properly. You swiped your card and grabbed the receipt and allowed John to regain control of the cart once more to lead you out. Once you made it out of the store, you walked side by side with him out onto the sidewalk and hailed a cab. “So how drunk do you this Mrs. Hudson’s gonna be tonight? You think she’s gonna disappear in the middle of the night to go get a sandwich?” John asked as he loaded the trunk of the taxi with your groceries and you couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh. “You’re sick. I bet you 50 quid she’ll come back with flour handprints on her dress.” You pushed the cart back away from the road and back with the rest of them and got in the cab after John. His eyes widened and he slapped your knee as you settled in and fastened your seatbelt. “You’re sicker! And I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He smiled at you and turned to the driver. “221b Baker Street, please.”

[queenfullofhystericalqueens]

♕Queen's first gig- June 27, 1970♕

♕Location: City Hall, Truro, UK♕

♕Although the ads had said Smile in the paper, this is the very first gig for the band Queen. They performed for a British Red Cross charity event, in which Drummer's Mother, Winifred Taylor, was involved with the charity. Sadly, there isn't a confirmed set list but drummer Roger Taylor, singer Freddie Mercury, and guitarist Brian May had confirmed some songs such as Stone Cold Crazy, Father to Son, Son And Daughter, and Doing All Right, but then bassist Mike Grose had said the band covered Led Zeppelin songs. For example, Communication Breakdown, which Freddie had sung before with his previous band Wreckage (late 1969). The band also covered a few Elvis and Little Richard songs. They were paid 50 quid (66.77 U.S. Dollars) between them.♕

♕Roger Taylor- "[Freddie] didn't have the technique he developed later on; he sounded a little bit like a very powerful sheep... Freddie had a natural musicality. It was a real gift, but he had a very strange vibrato when we first met, which some people found rather distressing. But he applied himself and forged his own persona. He invented himself... That was actually arranged by my mother in aid of the Red Cross. We were paid £50 which was quite a lot of money back then. I’m not sure many people turned up though."♕

♕Brian May- "Our stage act was a show, more rock and roll-oriented than the first album. If you go on stage and people don’t know your material you can get boring if you do your own stuff all the time.”♕

♕Mike Grose- I know we had £50 for it. But there wasn't enough there to pay us I don't think, as it was a very small crowd. It was advertised as Smile but by then we were Queen... Freddie put a lot into that first concert at the City Hall. I remember he jumped about all over the place, prancing about, a bit like Mick Jagger - but Freddie-style."♕

♕Winifred Taylor (Roger's Mum)- "He just kept saying how regal it sounded."♕

♕After this gig, Farrokh Bulsara had adopted the name, Freddie Mercury, as his stage name then officially made changed his name not too long after that.♕

📸:

♕ 1-3: www.queenlive.ca

♕ 4: My Camera roll

♕ 5: queenconcertrs.com

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Breathe ~ the Doctor (part 8)

A/n: So I tried to go lighter with this one and failed a bit not gonna lie? Just... bare with me I forgot that Mr. Connolly was like THAT and I absolutely had to address it. This one goes on a bit because of that, sorry.

Word Count: 12,000+

Warnings: Implied physical/mental abuse, past homophobia, backlash of PTSD (light), possibly upsetting memories, discussion of abuse

MASTERLIST

"How does this look?" Y/n had changed out of what originally been planned for him this time. He didn't like layers like the Doctor did unless it was quite cold, and it wasn't, so he'd lessened the whole thing by ditching the blazer, looking overly casual like he usually did. The suit pants were blue, close to but just a bit nicer than the jeans he'd mostly been wearing up until now. He'd absolutely refused to do his hair like the Doctor had, so it was loose and messy instead - different than the way he did it every other day, but all he could manage after the gel had hardened the strands. Rose had tried to get Y/n to comply and it had failed for both of them. He felt too casual to be wearing dress pants, and his hair looked weird to him in the mirror. He was thinking about taking a quick shower and going for an entirely different look.

When he looked at Rose and the Doctor for input though, the two looked back at him with eyes widened, lips parted. Upon realizing they were staring, the Doctor looked away. Rose just smirked. Y/n went quite red. "You look fantastic," Rose complimented. "I didn't realize you could pull off messy so well."

"You pull off everything well," the Doctor followed up softly. It was unsure if he'd meant to keep it in his head and slipped, or had wanted to say it louder but didn't have the confidence. Y/n thanked him, but the Doctor just nodded dismissively, a blush of his own coloring his skin before he nodded to the TARDIS door. "You both ready?"

As always, Rose was first. She pulled the door open, popping outside to may her skirts swish. It was becoming quickly apparent she was in love with how her dress moved. "I thought we'd be going for the Vegas era. You know, the white flares and the-" she did a sort of growl, and Y/n raised an eyebrow but realized she'd been mocking rather than being genuine. He was going to say - if she was into that, she was out of luck with her current partners.

Like an echo of Y/n's thoughts, the Doctor leaned around the TARDIS door, his shoulder pressing against Y/n's chest. "You're kidding aren't you? If you want to see Elvis you go to the late '50's! The time before burgers!" He dipped back in and Y/n leaned against the doorway, keeping both of the other two in view. "When they called him "the Pelvis" and he still had a waist!" The Doctor continued from inside. "What's more, you see him in style!" Y/n saw it first from his vantage point in the doorway, and thankfully so because as the Doctor rolled out of the TARDIS in a fully functioning moped, Y/n would have been run over if he hadn't gotten out of the way quickly. He circled before stopping, looking at Rose with an amused smirk. "You going my way Doll?" He said in a low voice. It was a bad attempt at Elvis and made Y/n laugh.

Rose pulled out a pair of glasses that matched her dress. "Is there anyway to go, daddy o?" She shot back, her voice higher and more nasally. She approached the Doctor with an added, "Straight from the fridge, man!"

The Doctor grinned. "Hey, you speak the lingo!" He held out a helmet for her. Y/n was amused to see that it was pink, like her glasses, so it also matched her skirt. Y/n dipped inside as they continued their back and forth, looking around before he saw what he was looking for. A bike! It wouldn't be as fast as the moped mechanically but he was down to coast. Also he had a secret: he was a devil when it came to bicycling. Rose had refused to stop biking with him for a few years now; she could never keep up well enough and tired easily if she tried.

When Y/n rolled out on the bike, the Doctor rose an eyebrow. Y/n closed the TARDIS door behind him, grinning. "Don't give me that look," he dismissed. "Just lead the way. If you can keep up." Rose and Y/n laughed as he took off on the bike, surprising the Doctor with how fast he actually went. After a bit of joking, the Doctor did slow down a bit to keep pace with Y/n, the three chatting - or, the usual, which was that Rose and the Doctor chatted mostly and Y/n inputted every so often - on the way.

"Where we off to?" Rose asked at one point.

"Ed Sullivan TV studios," the Doctor yelled back in response, having to be loud over the sound of the motor. "Elvis did Hound Dog on one of the shows. There were loads of complaints. Bit of luck, we'll just catch it."

"And that would be the TV studios in, what, New York?" Rose inquired further.

Y/n immediately saw where she was going with that. The Doctor did not. "That's the one!"

The trio paused at a four-way stop as a bus passed. Rose laughed. Y/n smiled, soft and fond. "I don't think we're in New York, Doctor." And indeed it was anything but. All around them was small town views. The sky was clear and the buildings were all very similar: one story, brick, two windows, one door, colored red. There wasn't even much traffic.

"Well," the Doctor mumbled. "This could still be New York. I mean, this looks very New York to me."

Y/n rolled his eyes. "And you've memorized New York have you?" The Doctor shrugged, but before he could speak Y/n got to it first. "You forget how well I know you, Doctor. I know you have general ideas of how certain places on each planet work and that's why you usually end up in the general same place every time you come to Earth. You probably would think we were on a different planet if you went to... Australia, or France. Have you ever really been to America before?"

The Doctor glowered, but without any offense or anger. Just the cutest irritation a being called out. After all, you couldn't get mad at someone just because they were right. "I've got a lot going on in this head of mine."

A smirk rose to Y/n's face. "Is that why we always get lost?"

Rose cut in. "What are all the flags for?" And indeed, she had a point.

The first thing he noticed other than the very not-New York state of the very London town, were the flags hung above the streets. Y/n could appreciate pride for one's country, but there were flags EVERYWHERE he looked. It seemed a little odd that a town so small you could see it even in the way people talked to each other, would hang a bunch of flags around every inch of every place. What, was the Queen coming to visit?

They parked the bike and moped, going around to get a closer look and understand exactly what was going on. In their wanderings, they came across a man at the back of a truck, and boys next to him who seemed to be picking up and moving a TV. The older man said something. "There you go sir." Y/n noticed another man who was older than the boys but younger than the older gent. Maybe the father. "All wired up for the great occasion."

The Doctor approached. "Great occasion? What do you mean?"

"Where you've been living eh?" the older man asked as the boys and their father left with the TV. "Out in the colonies? The coronation of course."

Unfortunately, that didn't clear up much for the group. "And what coronation's that then?" the Doctor asked in favor of all of their cluelessness.

The older man stopped, looking at them like they were insane. Nervous, even. Skiddish. Y/n watched him, that familiar feeling twisting in his chest. Something was about to happen, and it wasn't good. "What do you mean?" the older man asked. "The Coronation."

"It's the Queen's," Rose realized. "Queen Elizabeth." Y/n felt silly then. Of course! He was getting as bad at the space man over there, so much other knowledge in his head making him forget how his own planet worked.

"Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Is this 1953?"

"Last time I looked," the older man affirmed. "Time for a lovely bit of pomp and circumstance. What we do best."

Rose was looking around, her voice next distracting from the older man with his van. "Look at all the TV aerials. Looks like everyone's got one. Which is so weird, because my mum said tellies were so rare, they all had to pile into one house."

"Not round here, Love," the older man cheerily corrected. "Magpie's Marvelous Tellies." He pointed to the side of his truck, feigning proud. Pride that should have been real but so obviously wasn't. Pride that was, for some reason, very obviously strained when Y/n looked at him. Magpie - Y/n assumed that was the man's name, as the branding suggested - caught Y/n giving him an analyzing look and turned away. Hiding. "Only five quid a pop."

Before Y/n could push, the Doctor chirped, "Oh but this is a brilliant year! Classic! Technicolor! Everest climbed! Everything off the ration! A nation throwing off the shackles of war and looking forward to a happier, brighter future!" Rose laughed, and Y/n almost dismissed his weird feeling and grinned along.

Then there was screaming.

"Someone help me! Please!" The trio spun to the sound of the woman's voice. "Ted! Leave him alone, he's my husband!" The Doctor shot off, triggering Rose to follow close behind. Y/n stayed back, something eating at him. "PLEASE!" the woman begged as the other two got onto the scene where two men in black suits were pushing what seemed to be a man. It couldn't be sure because he had a blanket over his head, and he was rushed into a long black car, but the woman had called him Ted so...

"What's going on?" the Doctor demanded.

"Oi! What are you doing?" A young boy continued when the Doctor was ignored.

"Police business," was what they all got. "Get out of the way, sir." That was directed at the Doctor, who was scrambling to find some way to either intervene or understand. Y/n looked away though, his eyes drawn by some reason to Mr. Magpie, just in time to see the man's face wrought with regret and self hatred. He seemed intensely distressed, and nearly tripped over himself to leave the scene when he met Y/n's gaze. As Magpie peeled from the scene in one direction, Rose and the Doctor chasing the black car on the moped in the opposite direction, Y/n had two thoughts.

One, this happened a lot.

Two, this town was either very tight knit, which didn't seem to be the case as no one but the boy from before had tried to come to Tom's rescue. Even the boy had been pulled inside by his parents, who seemed eager to ignore the situation entirely. So if that wasn't the case, how upset he'd been only made sense if... he was somehow involved in what was going wrong with these people. Or knew something about it.

There was a scream coming from the house where the boy from earlier had disappeared into that caught Y/n's attention first. His instincts perked up, his defenses quickly activating. It had been muffled, like maybe a window was cracked and that alone was why he could hear the conversation inside, but it was enough to set him on edge. Before he could orient himself enough to go after Magpie, Rose and the Doctor pulled up and caught him up on losing the back car to a dead end, as well as their plan to ask around to the neighbors about what was happening.

When the Doctor noticed Y/n's gaze returning time and time again to the house the yelling had come from, he put a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "You okay?"

"There was yelling," Y/n explained softly. He switched gears upon hearing the frail note in his voice. "It was where the boy from earlier disappeared. I think we should look into them."

Unsure if the other two had caught onto the real reason Y/n was suddenly a little out of it, he followed along as the other two lead the way toward the house and inside. Something about how they were there in the name of the Queen, which seemed to work well enough. They were inside at least.

"Very nice," the Doctor complimented as the three filtered into the house. "Very well kept. I have to congratulate you, Mrs...?" Y/n was astonished at the Doctor's ability to slip in so easily and effortlessly, like he really was here for what he said he was here for.

The woman smiled warmly, flattered by the Doctor's praise. "Mrs. Connolly," she answered in response to his prompting question.

"Now then Rita," the man who'd answered the door dismissed. Y/n recognized his voice - he had been the one to yell. "I can handle this. These gentlemen are proper representatives." Y/n was instantly put off by the way he dismissed both of the women in the room - Rose and his wife. How he referred to the gentlemen, which would be Y/n and the Doctor, and not the woman who was with them. How he shut up his wife who was only responding to being directly spoken to. Y/n hated him immediately. "Don't mind the wife. She rattles on a bit." This he said to the Doctor, ignoring Y/n as he leaned into the back of the room and stayed quiet. That was even more annoying as it seemed he'd been trying to weed out the alpha male in the group since they walked in and address that person only. Rose was a woman and Y/n was quiet, so he addressed only the Doctor, as if he was the only stranger in the house right now.

"Well maybe she should rattle on a bit more," the Doctor responded quite easily. "I'm not convinced you're doing your patriotic duty. Those flags." His eyes fell to a box of flags on the ground. "Why are they not flying?"

Mr. Connolly, who'd looked horrified at the Doctor suggesting he wasn't being patriotic, now rushed to prove how good of a citizen he was and Y/n had to swallow a laugh to hide it. "There we are, Rita, I told you." Mrs. Connolly seemed to be suddenly upset, and Y/n felt a burning urge to step in between the two of them. He held his place only because the Doctor shot him a warning look. "Get them up. Queen and country."

"I'm sorry," Rita apologized to the Doctor.

Before she could continue, Mr. Connolly ordered, "Get it done. Do it now."

Y/n's hands tightened into fists but the Doctor was already stepping forward. "Hold on a minute." Mr. Connolly kept talking and the Doctor spoke again over him, repeating, "Hold on a minute. You've got hands, Mr. Connolly. Two big hands! Then why is that your wife's job?"

Mr. Connolly seemed derailed again, and Y/n and Rose exchanged thrilled expressions. "Well it's housework, isn't it?" It seemed like it was supposed to be expected. A simple question with an obvious answer. And, I suppose in a world where men were aggressive and angry and hard and women did what they were told and everyone else was ripped apart, it was a simple answer.

"And that's women's work?" The Doctor continued casually.

"Of course it is!" Mr. Connolly spat, astounded.

That seemed to be exactly what the Doctor wanted him to say. "Mr. Connolly, what gender is the Queen?"

Immediately Mr. Connolly was uncomfortable. "She's female."

"And are you suggesting the Queen does the housework?" A thick silence fell like cement into the room, and Y/n accidentally made eye contact with the boy from earlier. They shared two repressed smiles, and Y/n winked at him.

Finally, the Doctor's question was given an answer. "No!" Mr. Connolly gasped, incredulous. "Not at all!"

The Doctor reached down and scooped up one of the flag lines, handing it to Mr. Connolly. "Then get busy."

"Right, yes sir," the stupid man mumbled as he took the line, moving to the wall to hang it up. "You'll be proud of us sir. We'll have union jacks left, right and center."

Rose, who'd taken a seat at some point, now stood up again. "Excuse me Mr. Connoly. Hang on a minute. Union Jacks?"

Mr. Connolly froze, looking back at her with a stunned expression, taken far aback by her hot headedness and strong voice coming from a woman. "Yes, that's right, isn't it?"

"That's the Union flag," she continued. Her voice got angry and Y/n's eyes widened, his attraction to her sky rocketing. "It's the Union Jack only when it's flown at sea."

"Oh," Mr. Connolly nearly whimpered. "I'm sorry. I do apologize."

Y/n smirked, turning away from Mr. Connolly so he wouldn't see. Rose wasn't about to go easy on the man though, and Y/n appreciated that. "Well, don't get it wrong again. There's a good man. Now get to it!" She snapped the last bit, spinning around again when she'd finished with a satisfied smile on her face and moving back to the couch to sit down. Y/n stepped forward so he was leaning on the back of the couch, behind the pair.

"Right then," the Doctor continued with eyes wide and impressed. "Nice and comfy. At her majesty's leisure." When they were settled the Doctor turned to Rose with a very quiet whispered, "Union Flag?"

Rose was eager to explain. "Mum went out with a sailor."

The Doctor chuckled gleefully and Y/n shook his head, amused. "I bet she did." In a normal voice he turned to Mrs. Connolly. "Anyway, I'm the Doctor, then there's Rose and Y/n." He introduced them all to Mrs. Connolly, Rose and Y/n giving a nod or a wave respectively when they were mentioned. "And you are?" That he said to the kid.

"Tommy," the kid responded, looking at the trio like they were something amazing.

The Doctor and Rose pushed apart to make room for someone to sit between them. "Well, sit yourself down, Tommy." The Doctor pat the spot between them for Tommy, and then the chair next to the couch to encourage Mrs. Connolly to sit down as well. Y/n moved around to lean against the wall next to the fireplace, slipping his hands in his pockets and trying to seem as least threatening as possible. "Have a look at this," the Doctor continued when everyone was settled, turning attention to the TV. "I love telly, don't you?"

"Yeah, I think it's brilliant," Tommy agreed with a smile.

"Good man," the Doctor complimented. After a beat he leaned back to add, "Keep working, Mr. C!" and then leaned forward to watch the black and white program. Or, that's what Y/n thought he was doing before the Doctor suddenly turned to Mrs. Connolly with a low, soft, quiet voice that Mr. Connolly wouldn't be able to hear. "Now, why don't you tell me what's wrong?" His voice wasn't forceful but comforting, and he looked at her with a soft concern. He was open and tender - ready to help and slow to disbelieve, dismiss, or judge.

Mrs. Connolly responded to it immediately. "Did you say you were a Doctor?"

Y/n felt his heart seize, knowing what it meant when the Doctor confirmed, "Yes I am."

"Can you help her?" Y/n noticed the desperation on the woman's face. The way her hair fell out of her hairdo, and her hands clasped together, stress and every line of her face. "Oh please. Can you hep her, Doctor?"

Like an unwanted Lego you step on while walking through your house, Mr. Connolly spoke up again. "Now Rita, I don't think the gentleman needs to know.

"Yes he does." It was the first thing Y/n had said the entire time, and when Mr. Connolly looked at him to argue, the look on Y/n's face shut him down immediately. "There's something going wrong, but the Doctor can help. He can fix whatever problem you have, because he's absolutely amazing like that." He turned to Mrs. Connolly with a softer expression. "Please, continue."

Mrs. Connolly suddenly broke, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she began to cry. Rose stood up to move to her side and comfort her. "It's all right," she eased. "It's all right, come here." She hugged Mrs. Connolly, keeping the older woman against her side. "Oh, it's okay. It's alright."

"Hold on a minute," Mr. Connolly seemed to realize, fiddling with the flags still in his hand. "Queen and country's one thing, but this is my house." His voice was rising and Y/n locked up immediately. "What the..." He looked at the flags in his hand before tossing them aside. "What the hell am I doing?" He locked eyes with the Doctor, who was almost smirking. The smug look was tainted with a threatening darkness in his eyes that seemed to be brewing. A storm about to hit hard. "Now you listen here Doctor," Mr. Connolly continued. This was a man who was never questioned or put in his place, and it made Y/n begin to come undone. "You may have fancy qualifications, but what goes on under my roof is my business."

"No it's not."

Mr. Connolly turned to face Y/n with a rage in his features, but Y/n wasn't having any of it. He'd lost something suddenly. The thing that kept him quiet when he was afraid. That made him step back and close his eyes and hide. The thing that had driven him to run every time he'd been chased by things he was afraid of when he was small. Because you know what, he wasn't small anymore and Mr. Connolly was not even semi close to the scariest thing he'd seen.

"You," Mr. Connolly seethed.

"Me," Y/n confirmed, stepping forward. He glared, his eyes burning with wild, hot fire. "Am I the type of man you like to be around? The type that's easy to push around and get what you want from? Is that why you've ignored me for so long, and turned to me so quickly, because the Doctor is scarier and bigger and you know that despite the fact you shouldn't be afraid of him, you are?" Y/n pushed off the wall, standing to his full height. "You act like because you live in this house it's your special little place where you're in control and nothing can stop you? Well let me tell you," Y/n sneered, stepping forward again, his eyes narrowing. "This might be your house, but it is not up to you to control everything in it, because your wife and your son are their own people and not objects for you to put into the places that you want them and you will learn that or your son will grow up hating you and your wife will wait for the day you die, and every day of your life will be spent playing pretend king and trying to ignore how absolutely miserable you are."

Mr. Connolly seemed to be stunned, seeing nothing but truth that terrified him when he looked into Y/n's eyes. "Who are you?"

Y/n finally calmed, becoming even more terrifying by doing so. "Your worst nightmare." All of the blood drained from Mr. Connolly's face as a shadow passed over Y/n's expression that sent a chill down Mr. Connolly's spine.

"Now-" the Doctor began, but he was interrupted by Mr. Connolly turning around weakly and demanding-

"Get out."

"Excuse me?" The Doctor hissed.

"Get out!" He sounded less angry and more terrified, but scared animals were always more volatile than angry ones.

"I'm trying to-"

Mr. Connolly snapped. "I am talking!"

The Doctor shot to his feet, getting into Mr. Connolly's face. "And I'm not listening!" Mr. Connolly finally shut up, eyes wide and hands shaking. "Now you Mr. Connolly, you've dismissed my friend over there but I'm about to tell you, you will absolutely not dismiss me. You are staring into a deep, dark pit of trouble if you don't let me help. Now I'm ordering you, sir-" he spit the word, mocking rather than respectful. "-Tell me what is going on!"

Before anyone could say anything or bounce back from the Doctor absolutely losing it on this idiotic man, there was suddenly a thumping sound over head. Like someone was banging a stick on the floor above them. The family in the room finally broke, even Mr. Connolly finally looking at the Doctor with fear in his eyes and saying, "She won't stop." The paused and the rhythmic thudding came again. Four slow thuds. "She never stops," Mr. Connolly added, shifting uncomfortably.

Tommy sat forward. "We started hearing stories all round the place," he began. The Doctor turned to face him, Rose only having to look over to move her attention to the boy. Y/n's eyes had shot to the stairs when the banging had started and had not moved away. "People who have changed. Families keeping it secret because they were scared. Then the police started finding out. We don't know how, no one does. They just turn up. They come to the door and take them. Any time of the day or night."

At some point Y/n had moved from his spot before o the bottom of the steps, and when he got there, he paused only a second before he took a step up, and then another, and then another. The Doctor told Tommy one thing: "Show me." But by the time the group moved to get the key and went up the stairs so the Doctor could see what was going on, Y/n was already standing in front of the door with a distant, glassy look on his face. "Y/n?" The Doctor's voice was soft, concerned.

Y/n didn't respond. He raised a hand and it hovered over the door. He almost touched it... there was something, almost calling to him. Drawing him in. Y/n forced himself to focus. Ripped himself away from the thing that was pulling his body around without his permission. The last time this had happened, he had felt the death of hundreds and hundreds of people all being so horrified and agonized that it killed them. He couldn't feel something like that again. So he stepped back, using his other hand to force the one reaching for the door to his chest. away from the wood. He leaned against the banister behind him, a grim expression on his face. Rose and the Doctor shared worried expressions before moving to the door to unlock it and see what was going on. It was always the first step to solving the problem.

The door opened with Tommy entering the room first. They'd all agreed it would be best if she saw someone she knew first, so he was the one who greeted her. "Gran? It's Tommy. It's alright Gran. I've brought help." The door opened wider, revealing a dark room light only by the moon outside coming in through the window. There was someone inside, but only her silhouette could be seen. She began to walk toward the group coming into the room, and Y/n felt his heart seize in his chest. He wanted to reach out and pull the Doctor and Rose back, but he couldn't move.

Tommy turned the light on.

The woman in the room was revealed, in pristine, perfect condition... except that her face was gone. She had no mouth or eyes or even a nose. There light dents where all those things should be, but weren't. She just stood there, as if looking at them. But she couldn't.

Rose and the Doctor moved to her after a second. The Doctor got very close, eyebrows creasing. "Her face is completely gone." He rose his screwdriver to scan her. "Scarcely an electrical impulse left," he told them. "Almost complete neural shutdown. It's just ticking over. It's like her brain's been..." He seemed to struggle for a second. "Wiped clean."

"What are we gonna do Doctor?" Tommy asked, desperation in his voice. That was what got Y/n to move. He stepped toward the boy, his hand reaching out to comfort Tommy. Before he got there, his shoulder brushed Mr. Connolly's and a realization hit him like a freight train. He spun to face the man as Tommy added, "We can't even feed her."

Y/n made eye contact with Mr. Connolly. The men were the only ones out of the room, and therefore no one heard him when he whispered, "This is your fault."

"What?" Mr. Connolly spit.

Just then, the door downstairs banged open, and heavy footsteps could be heard on the stairs. "We've got company," Rose nearly groaned, too upset by the faceless woman to be as sassy as she usually was.

"They've come for her!" Rita lamented, clinging to her son and looking at the Doctor with desperation.

The Doctor jumped into action. "What was she doing before this happened to her?" He demanded. When Rita and Tommy looked at him with stunned confusion, he snapped, "Tell me, quickly! Think!"

"I can't think!" Tommy snapped back. "She doesn't leave the house! She was just..." He reached out to his mother as she covered her face, his words fading as men in suits suddenly surged into the room.

Stepping between the men and the grandma, the Doctor held up his hands to stop this from happening. "Hold on! There are three important, brilliant and complicated reasons why you should listen to me. One-"

He was cut off before he could finish, by the man closest to him snagging him with a solid right hook. The Doctor went flying to the floor and Rose scrambled after him, screaming, "Doctor!" The men threw a blanket over the old woman's head and began to lead her out of the room.

Rita tried to stop them; bless the woman. "Leave her alone!" She demanded, pulling weakly on one of the men's arms. "You'll hurt her! Mum!" She was shoved off by one of the men and Tommy rushed to help her land safely and get back up again. Which left Y/n as the one standing. But he didn't do anything. He stood as Mr. Connolly guided the men out of the house, and he followed behind slowly. Rita and Tommy were after them much faster. "Don't hurt her!" Rita begged. She followed them all the way outside, Tommy right behind her. Once outside the commotion kept up, but Y/n at the top of the stairs didn't hear it. He did however jump into action upon hearing Rita begin to cry.

Whatever spell he was under shattered and he shoved past Mr. Connolly with force, running to the moped the Doctor had left behind to go into the house, kicking it into gear and revving the engine, watching the car with the old woman inside begin to pull away. He paused only to lock eyes with Mr. Connolly yet again, accusation set in his eyes with a cold tone that made the man step back into the house to hide from it. Unfortunately for him, Tommy saw the look as well.

The moment allowed the Doctor to catch up, slipping on the bike behind Y/n and pulling his feet up just in time for TY/n to surge forward, leaving them only a beat behind the car ahead. They chased the vehicle until it turned a corner... a corner that lead to what seemed to be a dead end. There was a closed gate and a cart in front of it. Even a boy swept the street in front of the cart, seeming as if the whole operation had been there for ages.

"Oh, very good," the Doctor congratulated the two men, smirking. The man sweeping smirked back. It clicked in Y/n's head immediately. "It was like this last time too," the Doctor explained anyway. "I chased it and ended up right here, on this street, in front of that gate, with those two people set up in front of it."

"Set up indeed," Y/n sighed, shaking his head.

They settled on a simple solution. They parked the moped and went around the back, walking around the enclosure to find any other entrances or weakened points on the gate. Of course, they found it. It was a door into the building. Something small, too small to be used by people as an entrance. Big enough to be used if one had to though, and no lock was scary enough to go against the sonic screwdriver. They were inside with no problem at all.

It seemed to be some sort of factory. There was the clattering of chains in the distance that they followed into a big room with a a gated enclosure in the middle. Inside the enclosure was dozens of people, all missing their faces. The clattering was coming from the men who had come to the house, who were now locking the grandma inside as well before locking the gate again. They waited for the men to leave before jogging up to the enclosure. The Doctor took out his screwdriver, busted the lock, and they were inside. It seemed a little more complex than it had from a distance though because after opening the first gate, there was a second one that lead to where everyone was actually held. Y/n wondered briefly why there were two gates as the Doctor opened the second and the pair moved into that room, pushing their way into the crowd gently to get a closer look at the faceless people.

They were dormant at first, but as the Doctor took out a torch and began to shine the light on them, their bodies began to twitch and move. Hands began to curl into claws, heads tilting threateningly. And they all turned to Y/n and the Doctor, closing in and pressing the two men against one of the gated walls. They crowded and pushed but didn't harm, and that surprised Y/n at first. Unfortunately, they did cause a commotion, which only occurred to the men when a huge light came on behind both of them, from outside the gate. They tried to see who had turned it on and saw only two silhouettes. A man's voice rung out, "Stay where you are."

They were pulled out of the enclosure and taken to two different rooms, sat in chairs, and faced with who seemed to be detectives. The man interrogating Y/n was rather calm and pleasant. "So who are you then?"

Y/n found himself sighing. "My name is Y/n."

The officer smiled, seeming pleased with Y/n's cooperative approach. "What are you doing here?"

"We're trying to figure out what's happening, so we can help and stop it," Y/n answered without hesitating. He said it with conviction, his body so relaxed but his eyes so full of honesty that there was simply no room to doubt him. He was telling the whole truth, and nothing else.

It was the best move to make, and it went over well. "What do you know?"

"Probably as much as you guys do. Bunch of people. Faces missing. What you might not know is that their brains are basically shut off. Like someone's taken their entire consciousness. A body with no person inside it, thinking and feeling and walking. It's a wisp of a ghost of humanity. No one's manning the controls." His shoulders dropped. "They're dormant."

Fairly enough, it was upsetting to the detective as well. "That's all you know?"

Y/n scoffed. "Maybe if you did less interrogating and tying me to chairs, I could be out there figuring out what's going on. My partner, where is he? We need to start working on this. Sitting around asking someone who knows barely more than you do is getting neither of us anywhere."

Sitting back, the officer gave a sort of amused smirk. "Down to business then. Alright, let the man go."

"But sir," one of the other men questioned. "Shouldn't we wait for the DI?"

The officer shook his head. "We need to find them and reunite these men who are here to help us. Come along, we've got work to do." And with that, Y/n was untied and they all headed to where the Doctor was being kept. A man who Y/n suspected was the DI was sat with the Doctor, looking non too far off from where the man who's been with Y/n had ended up - perplexed but trusting.

When they came into the room, the Doctor grinned upon seeing Y/n. "I can always count on you to get them to trust us, Y/n. Why do people listen to you so much better?"

"I'm approachable?" Y/n offered.

The Doctor nodded. "No that sounds about right."

Once the Doctor was untied as well, they all moved into the office where the DI began to catch up the other two men. "We started finding them about a month ago. Persons left 'sans visage'. Heads just... blank."

"Any sort of pattern?" The Doctor asked, eager to get down to business.

"It's spreading out from North London, all over the city. Men, women, kids, grannies. Only real lead is, there's been quite a large number in-"

The Doctor cut him off as he began to riffle through papers, finding the information himself. "-Florizel Street," he finished. His brow was creased in the way that it did when he was thinking and trying to understand. Looking at information and dissecting it. Taking it all in and organizing it to make sense of any kind of madness. It was a look Y/n had come to look on fondly.

There was a knock at the door to the office and Y/n went from admiring to in pain rather quickly.

"Found another one sir."

All eyes turned as the DI gave a half hearted, "Oh, good man, Crabtree. Here we are, Doctor. See what you can deduce." Y/n noticed that it was a woman immediately. There was a blanket over her head, but she was wearing a skirt. A pink skirt. A pink skirt that Y/n had seen recently, and could recognize almost immediately.

No.

No!

The one who had walked the woman into the room took the blanket off of her head, revealing-

"Rose," the Doctor lamented weakly.

Y/n's body went weak. He trailed after the Doctor, moving closer to her in order to reach out and touch her cheek. If she were normal, she would have leaned into it, a smile on her face. Maybe even winked at Y/n. But now... her face was blank, all features gone, leaving only shallow dents where they all should be.

"Do you two know her?" The DI asked.

"Know her? She..." The Doctor trailed off, a tension to his face as he struggled to voice what Y/n so often did. That she was his girlfriend, or companion, or maybe something else that explained what they all were better, in stronger words that painted the picture more clearly and drove home the feelings they shared. That he so much more than just knew her.

When he said nothing else, Y/n offered something. "She's out partner. We travel together." He wished he hadn't said anything. That he'd stopped as the Doctor had, because those words weren't sufficient, but he also knew he had no right to speak for the Doctor's feelings when he couldn't even admit them to himself. And... I mean, would these old fashioned people understand it anyway, when they couldn't even be okay with the Doctor and Y/n being together, let alone Rose as well?

To fill the sudden painful silence in the room, the man who'd brought Rose in began to fill in missing information. "They found her in the street apparently, down by Damascus Road. Just abandoned. That's unusual. That's the first one out in the open." He went to talk more, but Y/n was finished right there.

"I'm sorry say that again?"

"Sorry?" the DI offered, not sure as to what part Y/n had meant.

The Doctor spoke again. "Where did you say they left her?" He kept his eyes on Rose, his features being replaced with anger where the concentration and focus and puzzle piecing had been before. Gears turned now so much faster, the fire that drove him burning brighter. He was the sort of man that moved slower when angry, because every single move counted. It was when he was soft and slow that the Doctor was most dangerous.

The other men in the room seemed to sense that. "Just... in the street."

"In the street," the Doctor repeated, his face relaxing as he rose his eyebrows. "They left her in the street. They took her face and just chucked her out and left her in the street." His voice was dropping, the anger curling around his words as his body relaxed. All his hesitations that usually kept him so in line melted away and he was calmer than he ever was. "And as a result, that makes things..." He paused, eyes still trained on where Rose's face should be. "- Simple. Very, very simple. Do you know why?" He took his glasses off, finally looking away from Rose in favor of turning to face the others in the room.

"No," the DI answered, his nervousness plain.

"Because now, Detective Inspector Bishop" the Doctor seethed. "There is no power on this Earth that can stop me." He looked at Y/n. "You ready?"

Anger had a vastly different effect on Y/n. Unlike with the Doctor where anger calmed him, anger fueled Y/n. It drove him, energized him. I suppose it was because the Doctor was a man capable of great evil, and therefore a man who had many rules that usually held him back. These rules locked that potential up tight so he could channel it into good things. When he was angry, those rules flew out the window and let him loose so that he had no inhibitions or hesitations. His potential, either good or evil, was at full capacity and would be stopped by no one. Y/n was the exact opposite. He was always calm, always level headed. His mind was a machine, and it flowed smoothly. He never felt the need to lead, only to support and pop in when it was necessary. But when he was angry? Oh, when he was angry, it blinded him and clogged those gears so the machine was stopped. All the energy that usually went into keeping him calm and level headed went into charging his mind to think better and harder, and his body into working faster and going further.

Usually, the Doctor was a man of great power and goodness and when he slipped or needed help, Y/n was there to keep the peace and fill in holes the Doctor had missed and pick up the slack. The Doctor pulled the chariot and Y/n picked up the things that fell out.

Now, Y/n was unhinged and the Doctor was unleashed and neither were about to stop the other. There were only two men on the path of vengeance for someone who had hurt the woman they both loved, and nothing - NOTHING - was going to get in the way of them getting her back.

Y/n smiled. "Always."

So they were off.

They headed out, blazing a trail of fire behind them, headed right back where they'd come from. The sun was up, and Tommy Connolly opened the door to find Y/n and the Doctor. "Tommy," the Doctor said in a voice that left no room for negotiation. "Talk to me." Tommy threw a glance to the inside of the house before coming out, closing the door behind him. "I need to know exactly what happened inside your house."

It was then Mr. Connolly decided to intervene. "What the blazes do you think you're doing?" the pathetic man spat at his son.

"I wanna help, Dad!" Tommy begged weakly.

"Mr. Connolly-" the Doctor began.

And then Mr. Connolly made a huge error. He turned to the Doctor and sneered, "Shut your face, you."

Y/n reacted immediately. He surged forward, ramming Mr. Connolly against the wall of the house. Their noses almost touched, and Y/n practically growled, "I've had enough of you. You think you're bigger than you are and I've had enough of it. You're going to stop intervening and you're going to stop disrespecting your family and the Doctor and myself, and you're going to let your son be helpful like the decent human being he is and you're going to be grateful that Tommy didn't turn out anything like you did, do you understand me?"

There was something in Y/n's eyes. Something that made Mr. Connolly genuinely cower. The Doctor put a hand on Y/n's shoulder and the man backed down immediately, letting Mr. Connolly go. "You don't understand," Mr. Connolly groaned. "You two are ruining everything! I have a position to maintain. People around here respect me. You don't care what people think of you and that's fine, but those successful know that it matters what people think!"

"Is that why you did it, Dad?" All eyes turned to Tommy.

"Did what?" Mr. Connolly asked his voice tinged with panic. "You ratted on Gran," Tommy accused. "How else would the police know where to look? Unless a coward told them."

"How dare you," Mr. Connolly hissed quietly, still beaten down by Y/n's previous actions, but fueled again by Tommy's insult. "You think I fought a war just so a mouthy scum like you  could call me a coward?"

Tommy was having none of that though. "You don't get it do you? You fought against fascism, remember? People telling you how to live. Who you could be friends with. Who you could fall in love with. Who could live and who had to die. Don't you get it? You were fighting so that little twerps like me could do what we want. Say what we want. Now you've become just like them. You've been informing on everyone, haven't you? Even Gran. All to protect your precious reputation!"

"You'll learn, Mr. Connolly," Y/n said in a low voice. "It doesn't matter what OTHER people say or think about you. It matters what your friends and family think. It matters that you go to bed at night with a clear conscious and look at yourself in the mirror and see someone you like. Be honest. Have you been able to look yourself in the eye since you started tell the police where everyone was? Since you betrayed your own family, all so you could look good to what you think people wanted you to be? Cause I can tell you now, no one's going to like you for this. For taking away their family and ratting on them. For making everyone scared in their homes. On their own streets."

"Everyone who matters will appreciate what I did," Mr. Connolly spat defensively.

"So it's true then." The door opened, revealing Mrs. Connolly. Mr. Connolly reached out for her but she pulled away.

"I did it for us, Rita," Mr. Connolly explained, panicking at the betrayed look on the poor woman's face. "She was filthy! A filthy, disgusting thing!"

Y/n took a step back, and then another. He tripped on the second step as he hit the end of the concrete, but was thankfully far enough out of view that no one saw. But he saw. And what he saw... He wished he hadn’t.

"I wish people like that wouldn't go about. It's disgusting."

"Oh look away dear, it means nothing to you."

"It's just gross! Can't they do it somewhere else?"

"They're only holding hands."

"She kissed her cheek!"

"And?"

"And it's not right. I'm trying to spend time with my family. Why can't they be normal? Look, even Y/n looks upset by it."

"Are you upset, Y/n? We can go."

Y/n looked at his parents, feeling small. He was small, but he had never felt small. He'd always quite big, actually. Too big to hide in the spaces he wished he'd fit better in. Too big to run as fast and as far as he wanted to. Too big to fade away and be gone from this moment. Too big, in the middle of a quart yard, feeling like every set of eyes that could see him did. That was how he usually felt. But now... now he felt so small that he was terrified of being stepped on. He looked into his father's eyes, soft but distant. Too far away to reach. Too dislodged to understand. Y/n looked at his mother next. The way she looked at the two women who had eventually felt her stare and looked back, leaving to escape the horrible feeling her nasty glare left under their skin. Y/n wished he could go with them. How could one person hate two people being happy so much that it made one's skin crawl? That it made people run, just with the power of the look in her eyes alone. Why did she feel the need to say anything at all? Why couldn't she be pleasant and far away like dad?

A hand rested on Y/n's shoulder and he was pulled into the present. He looked over at the Doctor, who had a very knowing expression on his face at that moment. They exchanged a look and Y/n nodded, both to recognize that they would talk about it later and that he would be okay until then. For now, they had much more important things to worry about.

With that clear, they both turned their attention back to Tommy and his parents. It seemed Y/n had missed something, as the door was now closed. With the way Mr. Connolly was yelling anguished cries for his wife to open the door, Y/n got the feeling that Mr. Connolly's world had just come crashing down.

"Tommy," the Doctor said, reaching out for the boy. Tommy moved closer to him, and those two, Y/n, and DI Bishop all left Mr. Connolly at the door. They had important business to get to, and Tommy had a lot to catch them up on. As they walked, the Doctor got to business. "Tell me about that night. The night she changed."

As they walked, Tommy watched his feet, trying to remember. "She was just watching the telly," he offered weakly, obviously feeling guilty as not giving what was being looked for. How wrong he was though.

"Rose said it," the Doctor realized. He spun around, eyes shooting to all the different antenna. Too many dishes for this year, this time. "She said it from the start. All these aeriels in one little street. How come?" He settled on looking at Tommy for an answer.

The boy delivered. "The bloke Mr. Magpie. He's selling them up the street?" The Doctor and Y/n looked at each other before taking off, Tommy and the DI pausing only a second before kicking into gear after the Doctor yelled at them. The four made it to Magpie's place, the Doctor breaking the window on the door to reach through and unlock it, pushing inside. The DI actually tried to stop him - which was fair since he was a cop and all -but the Doctor wasn't listening.

The second they were inside, the Doctor was at the desk in a flash, ringing the little desk bell heatedly. "If you're here, come out and talk to me!" the Doctor screamed. "MAGPIE!"

Y/n skipped the desk and went directly behind, searching the whole place for any signs of the man, vengeance in his eyes. Luckily for Magpie, he didn't appear to be in. "No one," Y/n announced as he went back to the front, in answer o the Doctor's heated, questioning gaze.

The Doctor went behind the desk as well, beginning to dig through the drawers for any hints of clues. He was successful as always. "Oh hello," he grumbled, pulling out a sort of portable television, from what it seemed to be. It was rectangular shaped, but almost like an etch-a-sketch, with dials below a blank, dark screen.

Moving to the Doctor's shoulders, Y/n squinted his eyes as he got a better look at the thing. "That's not supposed to be here." Y/n tilted his head. "Not on Earth. Not anywhere near humans. That's too advanced for hundreds of years from now, let alone 1970's or wherever."

In response, the Doctor licked the device. "Tastes like iron." He looked at Y/n. "Bakelite." He put the thing on the counter in front of him, pulling out his sonic screwdriver to scan it. "Put together by human hands, I'll give that. But you're right, the design itself..." The sonic sounded, following by the Doctor making a noise of appreciative surprise. "Oh, beautiful work. That is so simple."

"That's incredible," DI Bishop mused. "It's like a television, but portable. A portable television." Y/n almost smiled at the amazement in his voice. He briefly wondered how the man would react to Netflix.

The thought was derailed as the Doctor lifted the screwdriver to eye level, and tellies began to switch on around them in the room. Each screen was just filled with white static, but the fact that they'd reacted so strongly to the signal in the first place wasn't the greatest of signs. "That's not the only signal in this room," the Doctor told the others. Suddenly the static died and the screens cleared, the static falling away to reveal a bunch of faces. Just faces on dark screens, all sad or scared. Some screaming, some crying, some silently shaking as they looked into a void and tried to find a way out. It was only a few seconds, each clip, and it repeated, so that people were stuck in two or three seconds of utter fear.

Y/n launched forward, eyes scanning each screen frantically until he squatted down, pausing as his hands rested on either side of a screen with the face of a girl screaming one word over and over again. It was Rose, and she was calling for the Doctor. When Y/n felt a presence beside him he scooted over to let the Doctor squat beside him, both men looking at Rose call for help over and over and over again. She looked so afraid, and in the blackness of the screen around her was reflected two expressions. One, the Doctor, whose eyes were full of pain and whose face was lined with love and worry. It was a sad expression, easy and delicate and affectionate. The other face was Y/n's, which was curled in anger. Not like it had been before, where it was hot and unforgiving and hard and terrifying. No, this anger was painful to look at. Like he was about to cry. He reached out a hand and gently touched the screen, wishing he could touch Rose's face and tell her everything was going to be okay.

Next to him, the Doctor reached out a hand too, to touch the other side of the screen that Y/n did. "We're coming," the Doctor promised.

The sound of beads being moved sounded. The same sound that had happened when Y/n had rushed into the back, searching for Magpie. Because there was a curtain of beads in the doorframe-

"What do you think you're doing?" Y/n and the Doctor looked at Magpie at the same time, pain being replaced with that anger from before. Merciless anger that could only be described as wrath.

The Doctor stood, marching toward Magpie with determination, every move fast and full of threat. "I want my friends restored and I think that's beyond a little back street electrician, so tell me, who's really in charge here?" Y/n backed him up, both of them leaning into Magpie who looked downright terrified.

Suddenly there was a voice. "Yoohoo!" It was such a shock because it was a woman's voice. A voice which shouldn't be possible as all men were in the room. Everyone turned to see a new woman on one of the screens. Except she wasn't just a face, she was hair and a body and a dress and arms as well. She sat on the telly as if she was a program, except her smile was too smug and her eyes were too cold. It probably was even more of a give away when she added, "That would probably be me," in what was definitely a response to the Doctor's question. A question she shouldn't be able to hear as she should have been a recording of something that had happened weeks ago. "Ooh," the woman hummed. "This one's smart as paint. And look at his little guard dog, ready to bite." She almost chuckled, the laugh sitting on her face even as the noise didn't come out.

"Is she talking to us?" DI Bishop asked.

"I'm sorry gentleman, I'm afraid you brought this on yourselves," Magpie apologized rather pathetically. "May I introduce you to my new-" he cut off, probably choking as he finished, "Friend." He swallowed and Y/n almost rolled his eyes.

"Truly nice to meet you," the woman on the screen greeted.

"Oh my god it's here," DI Bishop exclaimed. "That woman on the telly."

The Doctor's expression was dark. "No. It's just using her image."

"What?" Tommy asked, dumbfounded and confused. "What are you?" he asked the woman when neither the Doctor nor Y/n responded to his first question.

"I'm The Wire," the not-woman responded. "And I will gobble you up, pretty boy." On instinct Y/n pushed Tommy behind him; Tommy didn't resist. When Tommy was gone, the Wire's eyes moved up to look at Y/n instead. "Every last morsel. And when I have feasted, I shall regain the corporeal body, which my fellow kind denied me." As she spoke, the black and white screen suddenly filled with color, and Y/n realized she was showing off. Threatening and she flexed to show how much power she already had, just from the few people she'd fed off of. From Rose.

"Good lord." DI Bishop's eyes were wide. "Colour television!" Once again, Y/n had to try to not roll his eyes. To these people, that was a miracle.

The Doctor cut in on the moment. "So your own people tried to stop you."

"They executed me," the Wire spat. "But I escaped, in this form and fled across the stars."

"And now you're trapped in the television," the Doctor taunted. At his words, the color on the screen faded and it returned to black and white.

"Not for much longer." Despite her words, it gave Y/n hope to see her color fade. Her show of power had been quite temporary, which meant she was far, far weaker than she was trying to seem. That meant she would be much easy to defeat than she wanted to let on.

"This is what got my Gran?" Tommy asked, hands reaching out to tug on Y/n's sleeve.

Because Tommy was touching him, Y/n responded first. "Indeed. You don't know this yet I don't think, but people's minds work off of electricity. Little shocks all throughout the mind that send messages and information all around so it can power the rest of the body. She traps the minds and feeds off of them, and she does it by sapping away their faces. Ever heard, 'the eyes are the windows to the souls'? Well it's wrong, they're actually the doors, and once you open it it's very hard to close."

Feelings eyes on him, Y/n looked over to see the Doctor was surprised. It didn't last long though as the Doctor looked to Tommy, his anger coming back again as he added, "Problem is, it gorges itself like some great, over-fed pig." His eyes moved back to the Wire, spitting as he continued to get even angrier. "Taking people's faces, their essences, as it stuffs itself." The Wire looked very amused by that and Y/n was almost tempted to step forward and add some nasty words of his own, if Tommy hadn't still been holding onto him, keeping him back.

Probably for the best.

"And you let her do it, Magpie," the DI sneered at the electrician still cowering where the Doctor had left him before.

"I had to! She let me keep my face," Magpie whined. It was like a shark biting you then getting mad when you lashed out. It only made Y/n more angry. "She's promised to release me at the time of manifestation."

"What does that mean?" Tommy demanded.

"The appointed time," the Wire responded evenly. "My crowning glory."

That sentence set off the DI and Y/n at the same time. the DI shouted, "Doctor, the Coronation!" at the same time that Y/n lamented, "Oh my god the Coronation" as he rose a hand to cover his mouth, horrified as he began to realize the Wire's plan.

"For the first time in history, millions gathered round a television set," the Doctor confirmed. He turned smug as he took a step toward the screen. "But you're not strong enough yet, are you?" The Wire seemed to want to say something, but had nothing to throw back. The Doctor was right. "You can't do it all from here. That's why you need this!" He held up the screen from earlier, which Y/n only now realized he'd been carrying around the entire time. "You need something more powerful. This will turn a big transmitter into a big receiver."

"What a clever thing you are," the Wire sarcastically congratulated. "But why fret about it? Why not just relax? Kick off your shoes and enjoy the coronation. Believe me, you'll be glued to the screen."

"Well obviously we wouldn't-" But he didn't get to finish his sentence, because before Y/n could quip out a snarky response, suddenly there was a bright light and his whole body was beginning to ache. Slowly, starting at his fingers and toes, a sort of sharp numbness began to spread through his body. Began to eat at him, but by bit, until he was consumed. It never did get all of him, but even when the numbness faded and the world should have come back into view, that bright white light didn't go away. Y/n closed his eyes and felt a sort of fuzzy distance, but that white light didn't go anywhere. It was just muffled a little behind his eyelids.

For a while, Y/n didn't want to look. There was a fear in his heart that kept his eyes very closed. The white light wasn't too bright to look at or painful or consuming, it was just... terrifying. There was something that told him if he opened his eyes, he would see something terrible.

Unfortunately, Y/n was a companion of the Doctor. He maybe even had a little bit of what made the Doctor so wonderful and fantastic and brave inside of him, put there by experiences and memories that weren't his. Things that made people on such a deep level; mistakes and terrors. Things more terrible than some stupid white light could scare him with. So he opened his eyes, and he saw. And it was just as terrible as he thought it would be.

Suddenly he sucked in a breath and shot up into a sitting position, scrambling away from the wall of TV screens. He was breathing heavily, head spinning and heart racing. He looked around and saw DI Bishop, who was much more still but who seemed a little jarred himself. Though I suppose, no one was as upset by the experience just had as Y/n was. The Wire placated her victims, holding them in a cocoon of disconnection. Uncomfortable, but not upsetting. Not anything like what Y/n had just seen.

The door to Magpie's shop opened and the Doctor was there, eyes finding Y/n with an expression that was a mix of victory and worry. The worry grew as the Doctor realized Y/n seemed to be in a far more stable state than the Detective had been, which he didn't seem surprised about. Kneeling down, the Doctor placed a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "What happened?"

Y/n swallowed. "She took my face."

Even before the Doctor spoke, Y/n knew that was wrong though. "No, she didn't. You were fine. She was focused on the detective, and hadn't gotten to you, me, or Tommy yet. But when I got Tommy to wake up you just... lay there." He swallowed. "I thought you might have died."

At that, Y/n gave the only reassurance he could. "Well you and I both know that's not the case."

The Doctor nodded. "Right so. Stay here, I'll be back." He went and got Tommy, and then the four men - reunited again - all moved out of the shop. Shakily, as Y/n seemed to be having a hard time staying on his feet. Finally though, with a little help from Tommy, they managed to get Y/n out of the shop and down the street to head back to where all of the people who'd been taken were. If this was one of those happy endings, everyone would be back to normal. And considering Rose was one of them... well, they all had fingers crossed.

It didn't take long. They got far enough that Y/n only needed a little help from Tommy, and they moved a lot faster. They turned a corner, and saw a crowd of people surging out of the place where all the Wire's victims had been held. Y/n recognized a few body shapes and hair colors and outfits. Everyone was fine, just as they'd hoped. With the Wire gone, all consciousness had been returned to their bodies and people were in great condition. Well, good condition. Y/n was sure there might be some emotional damage. Disassociation was detrimental enough, without your very being being fed on.

But anyway, that wasn't the important thing. The important thing was that everyone was more or less completely fine. Which meant-

"Gran!" Tommy explained.

Tommy went to run, but paused as Y/n was still leaning on him. The man leaned away from the boy, waving him on. "I'll be fine. You go." With that, Tommy was gone. Y/n stayed where he was, leaning against the wall, afraid if he leaned off he might collapse. But then he saw Rose. He saw the Doctor surging toward her grinning face, and he felt his own body moving as well. Despite his worries about his current state of being, Y/n pushed off the wall and headed over as well. He was proud of himself for only limping a little bit.

Rose and the Doctor had the cutest reunion hug, and Y/n approached them as they parted. There was a grin on his face as he said, "All good now?"

"More than," Rose agreed. She hugged Y/n next, jumping in surprise as he groaned in pain. She leaned back much quickly, worry on her face as it had been on the Doctor's earlier, and was again. "Are you okay? You seem... hurt. What did you let happen to him?" She shot this at the Doctor, who was about to defend himself when Y/n did it for him.

"I just didn't handle the TV sucking my mind out of my body as well as you did," he tried to dismiss. "Really I'm fine. We fell after we got all zapped. I might have just landed wrong, really. Lots of different reasons, none of them anything you need to worry about." He reached up both hands, holding Rose's face. She was taken aback by the look in his eyes when he looked at her now. Like they hadn't seen each other in years, or he had believed he'd never see her again. To be fair, after the events of today, it was a fair look for one to have. "I love you. Have I said that recently?"

Rose cocked an eyebrow. "No partic-" Y/n kissed her, cutting her off. The kiss was hard and desperate and full of emotion that rocked her to her core. Rose felt her head rush and her heart race and her body shivered a bit before she registered the way he was holding her face. He was gripping it. Clinging to her like if she let go, she'd be gone forever. When they parted, she realized he was crying. "Y/n, are you sure you're okay?" She whispered, reaching a hand up to wipe the tear.

"Yeah." His voice cracked though, so it was quite unconvincing. "I'm just... I'm so glad you're okay, Rose. I really, really am." He stroked her cheek. "I'm never letting anything like that happen to you ever again."

She almost told him that he couldn't control what happened to her in this life of theirs, but Rose got the feeling that if she did, he might break down. So she just nodded and smiled and reassured, "Of course you will. You and the Doctor would never let anything really terrible happen to me. We're gonna be together forever, the three of us."

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. "Right," Y/n weakly agreed. He turned away, collecting himself. "Forever." His eyes moved across the crowd. "I think we deserved a bit of celebration. Come on!" And suddenly he was perfectly fine. Every few steps he winced just a little, but his smile was wide and his eyes were cleared. Like he had never been upset or hurt at all. The Doctor had been silent and nervous, constantly looking at Y/n again and again, but eventually the celebration got to even him and they were all forgetting their troubles and having a great time. Together again and inseparable.

For now.

Amidst all the fun, they ran into Tommy again and the Doctor gave his scooter as a present. It was a nice moment, but quickly messed up by Tommy seeing his dad again. Mr. Connolly seemed to be packed and suited up. Going somewhere. Leaving. "Good riddance," Tommy mumbled, face torn with hate.

"Is that it then, Tommy?" The Doctor asked, turning to watch Mr. Connolly go as well. "New monarch, new age, new world. No room for a man like Eddie Connolly."

"That's right," Tommy confirmed solidly. "He deserves it."

Rose leaned closer to the young boy. "Tommy, go after him."

Y/n cut in right there. "Never ever feel pressure to forgive someone who has abused you." He looked right at Tommy, and the Doctor and Rose went silent. "You are never required to let that person back into your life and don't you let anyone say otherwise." Y/n cleared his throat, his voice softening. "You should forgive him. If you don't, that anger you feel right now? It'll stay there inside you forever, and it'll turn you into him one day. You can't let it. You're too good to let someone else's mistakes ruin your future like that. You deserve better. And... you can give him another chance if you want. You can. But understand something: losing a parent is terrible. It sucks and it hurts, and it leaves a hole in your life forever. But that hole will always stay the size it is when that person leaves your life. Letting someone like your dad back in cold just widen that hole. Make it worse. Hurt it more. I'm not saying he will make it worse or he hasn't learned better. You can go after him, and that's your choice, and you're allowed to do that." Y/n reached out, placing his hand on Tommy's shoulder. "But you can't save him Tommy. Not from himself. You can't save anyone from themselves. You have to prioritize yourself and keep yourself safe first. So if you go after him, go because you want to. Not because he'll be sad or lonely or you think he needs you. Okay?"

Tommy had a very soft look on his face. One full of relief. Y/n's words had lifted a large burden off of his shoulders, and he nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Y/n. I... God, thank you."

Y/n smiled. "You're very welcome." With that, Tommy left the group. He walked back to his house, hesitated, and then did go after his dad. Y/n smiled to himself. "What a good lad."

"Very good," Rose agreed. But when Y/n looked over, she was looking at him, not Tommy.

Looking at his hands, Y/n cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cut you off I just-"

"No," Rose rushed to reassure. "You were right. I forget, sometimes... that not having a dad. It's not the worse thing that can happen to you. Sometimes it's better." She swallowed. "I was lucky to have a good dad. And an even better mum." At that, she pulled Y/n's chin so their eyes met. "I never properly apologized to you. For what happened in the parallel world. I pushed you to forgive her, and you knew from the beginning you shouldn't. She really hurt you and I pushed you to get there so she could."

Y/n shook his head and then wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into his side. Her arms went around his middle to hug him, her cheek resting against his chest. "It's not your fault, Rose. It's hers. Don't you dare blame yourself for that." The Doctor moved closer, using the table behind them and his body to block the view as he took Y/n's hand.

"All that matters if we're safe and together," the Doctor finalized.

And for now, that was true enough.

-

Story Tag List: @e-reads-fics​ @shoochi​

Male reader taglist: @sheepfather​

[deardiary17]

strawberries, cookies and cream and peppermint!

strawberry— do you know how to dance? if so, what’s your go-to dance move?

I don't do dancing professionally, but I do like dancing - I don't know if that counts :D For the go-to move - anything that includes my hips, be it Oriental dancing (we dance to anything at the sleepovers with friends) or those funky rock-n-roll moves with twisting and turning.

cookies & cream— what’s one thing you would say to an ex? whether it be an ex partner, ex friend, or ex boss is up to you.

That'd be for an ex-boss. I would have told him not to be a jerk and not to lie to people and to actually pay money for the job they've done. It's just that I once wasn't paid 50 quid, and I didn't get them even after confronting the man whom I worked for. Unpleasant experience.

peppermint— what song lyric describes your love life right now?

Oh, wow, okay!

I have no friends No one to see And I am never invited Now I am here Talking to you No wonder I get excited

Yes, I was listening to "The Name of the Game" by Amanda Seyfried, and I realised...wow, me :D

Thank you for the ask, darling!

ask game

[illshowyourhurricanes]

Castles Made of Sand

All credit goes to Jimi Hendrix for this borrowed title. After way too much time (thanks to our good friend Writer’s Block and hating the first route I took with this which lead to a complete rewrite), I am finally getting back to finishing up my last two remaining requests for my milestone event. This one was requested by @something-tofightfor, who chose image 5 for Benjamin Greene x reader. In lieu of going to the actual beach, stay inside, social distance, and imagine yourself there with this sugarplum instead. I hope you enjoy!

Image prompt 5: Benjamin Greene x reader

Rating: R solely because B. Greene is one sexy mofo. If you haven’t watched Gold Digger, there are spoilers you’ll come across in this one.

Word count: 2889.

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @maydayfigment @vetseras @thisisparadisemylove @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @my-rosegold-soul @delos-destinations @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @tenhargreeves @witchygagirl @fific7 @pheedraws

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask or shoot me a DM.

Special thanks to @the-blind-assassin-12 for beta reading!

Once again, enjoy and thank you for reading!

Benjamin’s mouth had embarked on a journey. He’d made his way down the straight line of the back of your neck, and now was tirelessly pressing light kisses down the column of your spine. The heat of his breath was a sharp contrast to the air conditioning in the room, and he was sending literal shivers up your spine. Your eyes had fallen shut when he’d started on your neck, his long fingers threading through your hair. 

“You taste like saltwater and sunshine,” he stopped just long enough to murmur into your ear. He’d changed direction, rerouting and taking a detour up toward your other shoulder. Gathering your hair to sweep it out of his way, he ran a palm over your skin, brushing off several grains of sand that had been stuck there, reticent to let go. I understand completely, he thought to himself, a shadow of a smile curving his lips as they landed on you once again: one soft feather of a kiss followed by his mouth closing over a spot at the base of your neck, gently swiping his tongue over a patch of skin, tasting saltwater again before sucking gently, his intention to leave a mark clear.

You hummed softly, appreciatively, and grinned lazily as you opened your eyes. Benjamin hadn’t been excited about your idea for a weekend at the beach; he’d actually been a bit tight-lipped any time you’d mentioned it, which was strange-- you found that Benjamin was usually forthcoming about most things, with just a short list of exceptions: his childhood, his brother Kieran, and his ex-wife Julia. 

“I never knew you had hard feelings toward the beach,” you’d joked with him good-naturedly. You’d purposely avoided the topic for three entire days, and Benjamin had finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that maybe you’d given up your idea of a weekend away. I’d love a weekend holiday, just one that doesn’t include sand, he’d thought to himself, every time you’d made the suggestion. But Benjamin knew it had not so much to do with sand at all. It had everything to do with Kent. 

He did everything he could to avoid returning to the area. He’d done everything possible to leave his childhood and years in Kent behind, to start a new life, and he’d succeeded in doing so. But when Benjamin thought about the place, his heart dropped and his pulse raced at the same time. He felt like the former version of himself, the name Sean White haunting him, circling over his head like a vulture. It was always there. Benjamin was, down to his bare bones, a taller version of the boy with the name he could never escape— the boy who had spent time behind bars, who had nothing, who spent the most desolate and miserable years of a life he’d love to forget—in Kent. 

                                         ***          ***         ***

“We used to spend half of the summer on the beach,” you had continued, your voice light with excitement, words spilling from your mouth quicker than usual. “We’d deviate here and there, but we spent most of our beach days in Broadstairs. Joss Bay. Just as beautiful as Botany, but without so many tourists.”

Benjamin had just watched and listened, expressionless. He wasn’t the type to keep at reading, his usual task at hand, while someone was speaking, whatever the topic… even if it was highly irritating. 

But you, well, you just laughed, getting to your knees and knee-stepping the rest of the way to where he was sitting, a high-backed and slightly-distressed armchair. The end table and lamp were perfectly-suited for his academic pursuits and cerebral hobbies. 

Benjamin’s eyes followed your movement, unable to help a small, wary shadow of a smile appear, vanishing as suddenly as it had come on. You were there then, your forearms resting atop his knees and looking up at him with wide doe-eyes, unconscious of just how beautiful you always looked from his view. 

You had only met three months ago in an otherwise empty corridor at university, but things had gone swimmingly between the pair of you. Benjamin was well aware, and quite often, that he was falling for you, hard and fast and much too much all at once.  He knew that if he wanted your relationship to progress much father— I do, I want her, I want to need her out of love, not from dependency—he’d have to tell you everything; the absolute truth. I want this, with her: the antithesis of what I thought I had with Julia. 

That thought, each time it invaded his mind, caused his heart to pound irregularly, his surroundings to tilt before his eyes. Perhaps he needed you already.

He heard the music of your laughter, the quick glossy look in his eyes vanishing within a split-second. Her smile could illuminate entire cities. 

“I know,” you continued with a slight wrinkle of your little nose, “That it’s quite popular, and the waves are rather choppy, but the sand is still white and the view…” you trailed off, shaking your head slowly as a warmth of nostalgia flooded your senses. 

You were still enamoured by the beach, as you always had been— the horseshoe shape of the coast, the white chalk cliffs, the carefree atmosphere and the smell of the saltwater. Your times there at Botany Bay in Broadstairs were some of your favorites, hands sticky with ice pops melting too quickly, briefly staining the sand. 

“What do you say, B? I’ll find a nice place to say, we’ll spend a long weekend in Kent. It’s lovely there, you—“

Benjamin spoke your name softly, but there was a strange firmness to his tone. Never one to interrupt, you were a bit caught off-guard. As he removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, you lowered yourself down to your haunches, allowing your arms to fall from his knees to your sides. You’d seen Benjamin tired. You’d seen him dejected, frustrated over a paper or two that he’d gotten stuck writing, but this… this was something different. And perhaps you were being a bit sensitive, but your feelings were a bit hurt. 

To top things off, you didn’t know how to react to an emotion you’d never seen before from the man you’d been seeing for just three months. Operating on instinct, you just nodded— though you were thoroughly confused— and stood, offering him a soft apology as you went to your small kitchen to put the kettle on. 

Just as you placed the kettle on the stove to heat, Benjamin appeared in the doorway. You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough to pass. “Chamomile or lemon balm?” you asked. He took a few long strides and pulled out a chair, sitting at the table, and bit at his bottom lip. 

“Chamomile… There’s.. I’ve…” Benjamin scrubbed his hands over his face in irritation. His nerves were getting to him. Anxiety was thieving his words. “I can’t go to Kent, Y/N.”

You turned to lean against the countertop. Crossing your arms over your chest as you furrowed your brow, it was obvious you were concerned. Benjamin had grown up in Newenden, a small port village immediately north of the River Rother, as an only child. You searched his face and saw tension in the set of his jaw. The rise and fall of his chest seemed almost labored, and when he looked at you, you were startled by the look of pain in his eyes. 

“My childhood.. it wasn’t like yours.” His voice sounded thick. “My mum was not an attentive mother. All of her care was concentrated on landing her next fix, and Kieran and I—“ He stopped short and shook his head, staring down at the table, tracing a knot in the wood with his index finger. “My… brother.” He struggled with the word, his jaw flexing. 

Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to speak, but all that spilled forth was silence. He’s lied to me. You felt your chest seize and it was like his words stole your breath from your lungs. Your heart thrummed erratically. He’s been lying to me.

“Older brother.” Benjamin continued, and his voice became unsteady as he went on. “Kieran had no father figure and mine was… fucking useless.” Upper lip curved in contempt, his nostrils flared in anger as the kettle began its shrill whistling. Quickly, though you felt as if you were in a haze, you darted to the side to quiet the sound, wondering how long you could keep your hands busy preparing two cups of tea. 

“When my mum died, Kieran did everything in his power to make everything normal, to watch over the two of us. We had no money and no place to go.  Just 50 quid, mate, to get us through the month. He already had a plan on how to get the money… ‘Just stand and keep watch, alright? Just keep watch.’” 

Benjamin was unaware, but he was sneering-- his jaw clenched, brows knotted, his mouth set in straight line. But the part that was most jarring was the wildness in his eyes. Benjamin, what have you done? Your hands shook as you brought tea to the table, and you wondered for a moment when you’d managed to steep the tea bags. You had no recollection. Benjamin’s words were ricocheting in your head. You felt angry for being lied to, betrayed. You felt a dull ache in your chest for Benjamin and all that he’d been through. You felt a heavy guilt for unknowingly being so inconsiderate in badgering him about a beach trip. You felt like the foundation of your relationship had been cracked irreparably, like the fault lines in dry earth from an earthquake.  Setting one steaming cup of tea in front of Benjamin, you sank into a hard kitchen chair across from him.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “So I stood there, and I stood there… and I heard something and then… there was all this blood…” 

Benjamin’s voice was shaking and as you looked up at him, you saw that his face was wet with tears, droplets falling from his cheeks and onto the table. He swallowed hard. “I took the blame, Y/N. I took the blame and I paid for it and he… he let me.”

“Oh, Benjamin.” You rose from the seat you’d just taken and walked to stand in front of him. You could see the agony in his eyes; there was no way anyone could fake that. “Benjamin, I’m sorry.” Tentatively you sat on his knee, and he shook his head.

“I should’ve told you, I planned to. When’s the right time to--”

You interrupted him by wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your cheek atop the crown of his head. Your anger melted away and the only thing you wanted to do was take it away. It was impossible, you knew, so you’d have to settle for offering comfort. For being there. 

“There isn’t,” you said, frowning into his hair. You softly ran your nails over the back of his neck and the two of you sat in silence for a moment. Closing your eyes, you turned to press your lips to his head before pulling away to look down at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words would come out. They were stuck someplace between your heart and your throat.

“As soon as I could,” he continued, blinking tears away, “I left. I got out of Kent, and I made a new life for myself, changed my name, got a job, and an ex-wife.” Benjamin attempted to smile, but the corners of his mouth just twitched instead, and no light reached his eyes. “Shawn White follows me every step of every day and I can’t go back. I can’t.”

“I don’t know a Shawn White.” Just saying the name felt strange on your tongue, and you vowed to never speak it again. “I know Benjamin Greene. I know that he helps strange women carry loads of sketchbooks to her office.” You smiled softly, the memory of how you’d met a vivid memory in your mind. “I know that he’s a diligent student, and smart, and is a great copywriter.” Pausing, you kissed his forehead. “I know his favorite foods, the type of music he likes, that he’s funny and attentive.” Finally, you caught his eyes, a touch of sadness and sour regret still there. “I know that I care about him immensely.”

Benjamin had taken to lightly running both hands up and down your back, one on either side of your spine. He couldn’t believe your reaction, or lack thereof. There was no accusation. There was no venom in your tone, no indication that you didn’t believe him. He had confessed to you that his life was a lie, and there you were, beautiful on his lap, reassuring him of all that he was. And when you kissed him then, there was no bitter aftertaste of pity. And when Benjamin smiled afterward, it was genuine, and it reached his eyes. She’s unbelievable.

                                              ***          ***         ***

“You’re so pale. B,” you’d teased, all in good fun. “C’mere.”

You slathered Benjamin in sunscreen— SPF 45,  to be exact. He’d helped you with the hard-to-reach places of your own, his warm palms and long fingers working the lotion over your skin. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather spending our time in the air conditioning?” he joked, voice low in your ear. One last time, he rubbed one hand over either shoulder and leaned forward to kiss your temple. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps popping up In gentle pricks. 

“Are you trying to make me forget about my mission? Because it’s working.” You turnED your head, narrowing your eyes playfully at Benjamin before turning your attention to the array of sandcastles littering the beach. Most of them looked more like sculpted sand dunes or ant hills more than anything else, but there were some valiant efforts all the same. Your mission was to thwart them all. 

“Really, I desperately want to impress you with my architectural skills,” you kidded. . Reaching to your right, you swiped the tote bag you’d brought down with you and pulled out a bright red, plastic sand pail. It held two smaller sand molds inside and a small, yellow shovel hung  from the bucket’s handle. You beamed triumphantly. Benjamin threw his head back in laughter. 

“What?!” Your voice dripped with feigned indignence, but his laughter was absolutely contagious. A giggle bubbled forth from your throat before it turned into full-blown laughter. “These are fully functional multipurpose tools!” You defended the vividly colorful kids’ toys as you unloaded the smaller molds from the pail. 

“You are utterly bonkers,” Benjamin said decidedly as he slid his sunglasses downward to shield his eyes. He leaned back on his readily-spread beach towel, leaning back on his elbows with his long  legs stretched out in front of him. 

And you are a vision, Benjamin Greene. The rest of Botany Bay— the horseshoe shape of the coast in the distance, the sapphire blue water sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight, the clean, whit expanse of sand and the picaresque pillars of chalk in your periphery— they all paled in comparison. You loved Benjamin irrevocably. 

And he felt the same way, you reminded him. “You love me, especially the utterly bonkers part,” you chided, setting your building supplies to the side. Joining him on your own beach towel, you rest your chin in your hand, propped up on your side to look down at him. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to his lips, your tongue teasing his bottom lip before pulling away. 

“Remind me again what I am?” you teased. Your eyebrows were raised in question and your mouth quirked upward in a smirk. 

Benjamin groaned in response, dropping his upper body down into his towel unceremoniously. 

“Brilliant at baiting,” he answered, rolling his head toward you. He was smiling, and your heart danced in your chest. Here you were, with Benjamin Greene in Kent, and of his own accord. You’d be returning to work soon, and he’d planned an end-of-summer beach vacation, at the very one you’d mentioned all that time ago. He’d remembered. And he was happy. 

You sat up with a burst of energy. Sliding in your own sunglasses, you readjusted the messy bun you wore atop your head. It was time to get down to business. “Now, are you going to help me build our castle before the tide rolls in?” You paused and turned your head to glance at him over your shoulder. “I can offer a promise of air conditioning as an incentive.”

Suddenly invigorated, Benjamin pushed himself up to sit as well, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Move over, Y/L/N,” he said, reaching past your legs for the lemon- yellow shovel. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

[easystitchesdesigns]

Cross stitching - Basics

Well, I think I have procrastinated this long enough. Let’s see if I can do this properly. All suggestions are welcome, this is based mostly on my personal experience.

Embroidery: cross stitch

From the trusty Wikipedia:

Embroidery is the craft of decorating fabric or other materials using a needle to apply thread or yarn. Embroidery may also incorporate other materials such as pearls, beads, quills, and sequins. In modern days, embroidery is usually seen on caps, hats, coats, blankets, dress shirts, denim, dresses, stockings, and golf shirts. Embroidery is available with a wide variety of thread or yarn colour.

I am linking the article: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Embroidery

Cross stitching is part of the embroidery field and takes its name from the kind of stitch used, which is a cross: X

Again, I will use Wikipedia, because it is explained very well:

Cross-stitch is a form of sewing and a popular form of counted-thread embroidery in which X-shaped stitches in a tiled, raster-like pattern are used to form a picture. The stitcher counts the threads on a piece of evenweave fabric (such as linen) in each direction so that the stitches are of uniform size and appearance. This form of cross-stitch is also called counted cross-stitch in order to distinguish it from other forms of cross-stitch. Sometimes cross-stitch is done on designs printed on the fabric (stamped cross-stitch); the stitcher simply stitches over the printed pattern. Cross-stitch is often executed on easily countable fabric called aida cloth whose weave creates a plainly visible grid of squares with holes for the needle at each corner.

Article here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cross-stitch

It is quite an easy embroidery, I recommend it for kids - I learned to cross stitch when I was 6-7 years old, trust me, it is easy.

A premise first...

Cross stitching is relatively cheap in terms of cost. I say relatively, because whilst needles and threads can be found at good and cheap prices, the cloths can be expensive - take into account quality, measure, type and how much you need. If you are going for the pre-stamped clothes, they usually come in kits, with the related threads and depending on how much they measure they can be as cheap as 5 quids or as expensive as 50 quids.

A lot of people recommend starting with the pre-stamped ones, because the pattern is already there, BUT I do NOT like recommending that, because if you have never cross stitched in your life, you are going to make mistakes - as it happened to me the first time, then mum had to step in and fix everything and whilst I have a family who can cross stitch, this may not be the case for everyone.

What I recommend is, just take some scrap aida cloth and some brown thread and start making lines of X. Once you have grasped the basics, then you can tackle easy patterns and proceed from there.

The tools needed

This may seem very basic, but bear with me. You will need needles. NOT sewing needles, you need to make sure they are specifically cross stitch needles, like these ones:

They don’t really sting, they are sturdy, the cap is big, because embroidery threads are thick. They don’t sting, because they don’t have to pierce through the cloth, the cloth already has holes.

I am using these ones: https://www.korbond.com/product/needles/6-piece-tapestry/-cross-stitch-needles

You will need threads next. I recommend silk or cotton embroidery threads, because they last and you can wash them. Please, hand wash anything you have embroidered, the threads are resistant, but NOT THAT resistant.

You don’t need to have many colours at the beginning, just have 10-20 colours and you will be good to go. The same company as above has thread packs:

https://www.korbond.com/product/thread-packs/10-skein-light-embroidery-floss-set

https://www.korbond.com/product/thread-packs/10-skein-dark-embroidery-floss-set

https://www.korbond.com/product/thread-packs/20-skein-embroidery-floss-set

Again, google “embroidery floss/embroidery thread” and you will find what you need.

And Let’s talk about cloths. Because you will need them.

The most used one in cross stitching is called aida cloth. Again, the Wiki says:

Aida cloth (sometimes called Java canvas) is an open, even-weave fabric traditionally used for cross-stitch embroidery. This cotton fabric has a natural mesh that facilitates cross-stitching and enough natural stiffness that the crafter does not need to use an embroidery hoop.

Article here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aida_cloth

If you are brand new to cross stitching, I suggest that you use binca cloth, which has similar features of the aida cloth, but it is stiffer and haswider holes.

A quick google search has pointed me to this website. which oes appear to have a good range and good prices: https://www.abakhan.co.uk/fabric/craft-fabrics/aida-binca.html

Again, this is UK based, but if you google “aida cloth/binca cloth” I am 100% sure you’ll find something closer to home.

If you have a fabrics shop nearby, please check them as well if/when they are open. This goes also for threads and needles - we are now in this quarantine hellscape, hence the links, but if you have a trustworthy fabrics shop nearby please check them.

Notes

I would recommend the use of an embroidery hoop only if you have large sheets of fabric and if you have any issues with movement, trust me, the hoop will help you to keep the fabric still - again, this is my personal experience.

Organize your threads and needles, if you don’t have the money for the fancy thread organisers - and I know they are expensive cos capitalism, go into your nearest hardware shop and buy, for a quarter of the price, one of these bad boys:

Trust me, these are built to stay like this for life and you can redecorate them however you like

EVERYONE CAN CROSS STITCH. This is not just “for girls”, literally. My husband aka your typical manly man in appearance cross stitches, a lot of my cishet man peers cross stitch, kids cross stitch. Literally, do you want to redirect your energies into stabbing something? CHOOSE CROSS STITCH.

This will be all :) For any question and suggestion, I am open.