#Jack spent the entire show on Sunday trying to make Alex laugh

[jackinalex]

[jenniferxprentiss]

I Knew You’d Linger Like A Tattoo Kiss -> 3/6

you’re my golden hour (the color of my sky)

read it as a stand-alone oneshot here

The third time JJ kisses Alex in front of the team, they’re enjoying a rare day off at the carnival. JJ can’t keep her eyes off of Alex all day, and as the sun begins to set behind the clouds, casting them in a pink glow, JJ can’t resist insisting they go on the Ferris wheel just once. They’re quiet as they ride, JJ’s head leaned on Alex’s shoulder until they reach the top of the ride, both looking at the flashing lights below them as the sun disappears, giving way to a vibrant pink. In that moment, regardless of who was watching, JJ couldn’t help herself, leaned up and pressed her lips against Alex’s as the ride began to slowly descend.

or the alternative summary.....

Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye. “Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology. “How about you rock paper scissors for it?” “I like the way you think.” JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war.

hi hello lovelies!

the decision to post this as both a standalone AND the next chap of the 5+1 was a little tough, so I’m hoping you aren’t TOO mad at me for it! i just thought that 1) it would get more exposure tagged as hotchniss, light implied morcied and 2) this is entirely too long (3.2k words!) to be JUST a chapter. and it’s also lightly focused on the rest of the BAU too!! if u don’t like Alex x JJ, I don’t suggest u read, though! but whatever floats ur boat. love u!!

tag list xo lemme know if u want a future tag! @babyblockcolorcat @whiskey-fluent @anepiphany @criminalmindsgonewrong @ellegreenawy @alex-blakes @j3mily @jjsgirlfriend @blakes-dictionxry

——————

It was rare that the team was allowed any time off aside from weekends when they were in town, let alone a weekday to do something as simple as going to a carnival. Strauss had pulled some strings for Emily’s return to the BAU, classified it as team bonding when she informed them of their time off and told them not to stay up too late, they had work to do the next day.

They hadn’t considered a carnival until Emily and Alex had admitted to the team that they had never been to one — sitting around the conference table with the rest of the team staring at them in various states of confusion because really, who had never been to a carnival? Garcia immediately decided that there would be no other acceptable team bonding activity, and luckily for them they were right on time for the last day of the carnival.

JJ had always loved fall carnivals, loved the way the crisp autumn air blew the fallen orange leaves around her feet as she walked, the way it felt and sounded like magic as every footfall brought the crunching of leaves underfoot. She felt a goofy grin pull at the corners of her lips, her hand firmly in Alex’s as they walked leisurely along the pavement, watching Henry as he walked ahead of them.

There was a giddy happiness that coursed through her at getting to take Alex to her first carnival, JJ still smiling at the memory of watching her eyes light up as they drove into the parking lot. They were older, with children and previous marriages — a slow-moving divorce, in Alex’s case — and they didn’t have much room for firsts, and JJ knew this would be a memory they both held dear to them for years to come.

“He looks like he’s having fun.”

JJ could hear the subtle smile in Alex’s voice, breaking her from her thoughts. She squeezed her hand before looking up and watching Henry race Emily off to a ring toss game. He had missed his Aunt Em so much, the sight of him running off with her to go play brought the familiar lump of tears to the back of her throat.

“I knew he would. He missed her so much… I’m glad he can have today before we go back to normal life.” She laughed when Emily ruffled Jack and Henry’s hair, looked over at Alex pointedly. “And you? Are you having fun?”

“As long as I’m with you.”

Her answer was sincere, her tone even and measured but she knew that JJ would understand the true vulnerability behind it. She so rarely let her guard down around other people, especially after her separation from James, but somehow JJ was always able to pull her from the hidden recesses of her mind and get her laughing.

They continued walking in silence, JJ motioning to Hotch that she was veering off towards a stand, nodding when he signaled that he had eyes on Henry. She tugged Alex towards the cotton candy stand, felt her heart flutter when she noticed the soft grin on her girlfriend’s face out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m gonna go grab a bench for us.” Alex’s voice was soft, chilled fingertips grazing the palm of JJ’s hand. “Make sure you get the pink.”

Their relationship had never been built on grand gestures, rather small acts of kindness and words of affirmation uttered behind closed doors — the gentle whisper of words uttered against lips, the way Alex glanced at JJ in front of the team with eyes so full of love that they held a message. She didn’t need Alex to say anything at all — knew her better than the back of her own hand.

She shuffled up in line, eyes still trained on Alex as she sat on a bench, one leg folded over the other and hands in her lap. The sight melted JJ’s heart, the way Alex’s cream colored sweater contrasted her dark hair that hung over her shoulder in a loose ponytail, tied with a ribbon. She was so preoccupied watching Alex that she didn’t notice the man behind the counter clear his throat, calling her up to the stall.

“Oh, I’m sorry… let me get two of the pink and blue over there.”

He grunted, took her money before disappearing for a moment, rummaging in a corner JJ couldn’t quite see. She blew a kiss in Alex’s direction, felt her stomach flip with giddy butterflies when Alex mimed catching it, a goofy grin on her face. She turned back at just the right moment, the man thrusting her change and bags of cotton candy into her hand before mumbling a gruff thanks, already yelling for the next customer to come forward.

JJ remembered that Alex told her she loved cotton candy as a child, the way it melted on the tip of her tongue, felt her lips twitching up into a smile at the thought. She remembered the night they stayed up together long before their relationship had shifted to one laced with romantic intonation, both of them curled under a stiff hotel blanket and whispering silly secrets into the dark — both unable to sleep after they found yet another victim, this one hitting a little too close to home. She drank in every little detail of Alex in those nights, the soft side of her she never let show until the lights were turned out.

“What’s up?” Alex’s voice was soft, fingers grazing her forearm gently in a way that broke JJ from her thoughts.

“Nothing… just thinking.”

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” There was a playful lilt to Alex’s voice, lips curling up into a small smile as JJ sat beside her on the bench.

They were content to sit away from the action for a moment, just to watch the people go by. JJ watched Emily and Hotch, smiled to herself when she saw just how happy they were chasing after Jack and Henry. Emily was laughing — unrestrained, the kind of booming laughter JJ missed so much while she had been gone — her head tilted back and eyes sparkling as she reached for Hotch’s hand. He took it, pulled Emily into him and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before they pulled apart to help the boys with the water gun game they were playing, Emily’s hands on Henry’s smaller ones as she guided him.

With a soft smile on her lips, JJ brought a bite of cotton candy up to Alex’s mouth. Her lips wrapped around JJ’s fingers, corners of her lips twitching up into a smile as her tongue darted out to lave across the skin, collecting any small bits of sugar that were left. They soaked up the bit of silence amidst the chaos, before the kids or the team would come running and pull them away to another ride.

“Tastes good.”

“Yeah? I know how much you like pink.”

She couldn’t help but gaze into Alex’s eyes, the way they crinkled up in the corners as a wide smile spread across her face. Her eyes flicked up to meet JJ’s, sparkling with a hint of bashfulness behind her doe eyed gaze.

“Not just the candy.”

“Hm?”

“You.”

JJ felt her heart speed up at the tone of Alex’s voice, the way it was subtly playful — fingers catching her wrist gently and guiding JJ’s hand to bring another bite of cotton candy to her mouth. It was in these rare moments of calm with her — just sitting with each other and watching the world move around them — that JJ saw a more permanent future with Alex by her side.

In that moment, JJ saw lazy Sunday mornings around the breakfast table with Henry as a teenager, stuffing food into his mouth before running out the door to catch up with whatever friend he was going to hang out with for the day. She could see movie nights curled up on the couch as an older Henry rolled his eyes at the way his mother was laid across Alex’s lap. There were visions of Christmases spent together — building gingerbread houses with Alex, a dollop of dried icing on her cheek as they sang along to Christmas carols — and long walks down the street admiring the autumn leaves.

The sun had begun to disappear behind the clouds, setting rapidly into a pinkish orange glow and giving way to a chilled breeze. She turned, eyes catching Alex’s face in just the right light and felt her heart clench for just a second. She looked at peace — face relaxed and free of the worry lines that were almost permanently etched into her face — eyes trained on JJ’s side profile with a small hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Hey.” They both startled when Emily approached, her voice soft and eyes kind. “Henry and Jack fell asleep, Rossi has them. A bunch of us were going to hop on the ferris wheel to watch the sunset… you in?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” JJ looked over at Alex, the way her eyes twinkled a little extra when Emily mentioned watching the sun set on the ferris wheel. “Yeah, we’ll be right there.”

“Hotch is saving us a place in line. Let’s ditch this shit with Rossi before they’re too far up in line.”

They half jogged over to the ferris wheel, Alex’s hand firmly in JJ’s, delightfully short of breath as a giddy wave of butterflies settled their way into her stomach. She had never been with someone who made her so lovestruck, made her feel like the little emoticon with heart eyes that JJ used so often — she wanted to drink in every second of the feeling, to never forget the fluttery happiness she felt in that moment.

“Nervous?”

“Sort of. I’ve never been on one before.”

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time.”

Alex smiled, a genuine grin directed at JJ, before turning back to look at the ferris wheel again, taller than she imagined one would be in person. The lights were on now, flashing and changing so rapidly that it made her eyes burn but she couldn’t look away. It was intoxicating — not just the wheel and lights, but the carnival itself. The ambient chatter in the background, hundreds of hushed conversations mingling with music and announcers yelling over the crowds brought a soft smile to her face, head quirking to the side as she tried to pick out any definitive sounds in the crowd.

She was pulled forward by JJ, the line moving again as another couple stepped into their seats and the worker started the ride up again. In front of them, Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye.

“Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology.

“How about you rock paper scissors for it?”

“I like the way you think.”

JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war. She shook her head, squeezing Alex’s hand gently in a sign of love — something they had adopted when they were still trying to keep their relationship a secret in front of the team, a simple gesture to say they loved each other.

By the time the ride operator opened the gate, Emily had declared herself the winner, but stepped aside and ushered Spencer forward with a sheepish smile on her face. The sight made JJ laugh, the way she walked back over to Hotch and let him wrap his arms around her from behind — having had no intention of actually making Spencer wait to get on the ride, not after she watched him buzz with excitement the entire time they had been in line.

He pulled Derek and Penelope through the gate with him, an uncharacteristically giddy smile tugging his lips upward and making the corners of his eyes crease with the sheer force of his unrestrained joy. JJ felt her lips quirk up into a smile of her own at the way both Derek and Penelope protested riding all together, but eventually let Spencer drag them onto the bench, all squeezing together as the ride operator clicked the bar down and started the ride again.

“He really has them wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?”

JJ let out a small chuckle at Alex’s words, nodded as she watched the trio move up on the ride, all of them laughing and joking together.

“You say that like you wouldn’t move heaven and earth for that man.”

“He reminds me of my son… almost as much as Henry does.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He had nine good years… and what is it they say about found family?”

They were interrupted once again by the metallic clang of the gate opening, Hotch and Emily sauntering hand in hand over to the ride car. They sat, Hotch’s arm around Emily’s shoulder and her head tucked into the crook of his neck as the ride started up again, and JJ felt herself swell with happiness at the way Hotch’s coat was around Emily, essentially dwarfing her in the material.

“They make a good couple.”

“Oh, yeah. I knew it would happen… especially once she went to Paris and there were no technicalities of the job keeping them from their feelings. He thinks I don’t know he was flying out to see her once a month.”

“He didn’t think Emily would tell you?”

“I think he was too in love with her to care what I thought.”

Alex made a soft sound of understanding, knowing the feeling all too well. When they had gotten together, in the early days of their relationship outside of falling into bed together for ‘stress relief’ on hard cases, she didn’t care if she lost her job — if she had to quit to just be with JJ on the off chance that it would work out — she felt such a strong pull to the other woman. Thankfully, the HR department was more than okay with their relationship — especially so after Emily came back engaged to Hotch — but it had always stuck at the back of her mind, exactly how much JJ meant to her.

“I love you too much to care.”

The words were laced with an intonation that made JJ’s head quirk to the side in question, wondered exactly what Alex meant and knew it wasn’t the place to ask — not with the way her voice was so soft, eyes soft and filled with such a fierce love that it made her head spin. To be loved so much was almost intoxicating, and she gave Alex’s hand another squeeze as the gate opened for them.

They sat perched on the edge of the bench seat, JJ’s head resting comfortably on Alex’s chest as the ride began to move, cranking them up into the night sky. The sky was a brilliant pink now, both of them transfixed by the sight, still entwined in more than a simple clasp of hands, but fingers laced together in a sign of love.

She loves me. She completely, wholly loves me.

JJ caught herself looking upwards for a second, a warm happiness filling her chest as she watched Emily lean into Hotch’s kiss, her hand on his stubbly cheek. It felt like she was watching a private moment, the way she leaned into him with so much love and adoration that it was almost too much to handle.

“Alex?”

“Hm?”

“I love you completely, wholly.”

“And I, you, my darling.” She paused for a moment, looked out at the carnival below them and back to JJ, a twinkle in her eyes. “Thank you… for bringing me here.”

They were paused at the top of the ride now, passengers disembarking their ride car below and giving them just enough time to look out at the view — the pink sky that cast them in the perfect glow, and accompanied with the lights and sounds of the carnival, it almost felt like they were in a movie.

“I’m honored.”

There was a gravely sincerity to JJ’s voice, and Alex knew she didn’t just mean it in regards to the carnival. It was an honor to love her — to share her dinner table with her, to share a bed with her while away on cases or the rare night that they could stay over at the other’s home.

“Jennifer…”

Their breath hitched, JJ leaning forward and letting her free hand cup the back of Alex’s neck, pulling them together and pressing their lips against each other. It was as though time was standing still for them, the shrill laughter of children and the music from the carnival below them fading into nothing but background noise — nothing mattered but the press of their lips, the way one simple action held so much love and tenderness.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, the ride jolted to a start again, their car descending. They could hear the shrill laughter of Spencer and Penelope, no doubt at something Morgan had told them — looked down and noticed Emily and Hotch cuddled against each other, her shoulders shaking in a silent cry as he held her, rubbed his hand in circles on her upper back.

“I wish we could stay here forever.”

“Hm?” JJ looked up again, felt herself melt when she gazed into Alex’s eyes. “Oh, me too. Aside from the chill… I’m starting to regret my wardrobe choice.”

With a soft laugh, one lacking the ‘I told you so’ she so desperately wanted to say, Alex wrapped her arm around JJ’s back, pulling her girlfriend into her and pressing a soft kiss to her hair. She let herself simply be in the moment, let herself be aware of every point of contact between her and JJ — from the way her hand connected with her shoulder right down to their knees bumping against each other — as she watched the carnival lights come closer and closer as they descended, knew that when they stepped off the ride they would be back to the chaos they both secretly loved so much.

“Jayje?”

“Mhmm?”

“I think I’m ready to ask him for a divorce.”

It was a ghost of a whisper uttered into the chilled evening air as their car came to a stop at the loading station — a statement so full of hope and love that it made JJ’s stomach flip. She didn’t dare mention it in front of the rest of the team who was already waiting for them at the exit gate — simply turned to Alex and pressed her lips against hers once more before exiting through the gate and joining the team again, a soft, proud little smile on her lips that she knew she wouldn’t be able to shake for the rest of the night.

[thevelvetseries]

Life’s Complicated (Part 1)

Overall Summary : When Bella Mikaelson was 17 she had a little baby girl. She went off to college and studied drama and music, while her parents looked after her daughter Camila Mikaelson. When she graduated she started auditioning for different movies and TV shows and ended up getting a role in the CW show Supernatural where she meets her new family.

Pairing : Alexander Calvert x Reader / Jared Padalecki x Reader (Platonic) / Jensen Ackles x Reader (Platonic) / Misha Collins x Reader (Platonic) / Genevieve Padalecki / Danneel Ackles

Warnings : Fluff, Angst, Smut, Semi Smut, Drinking

I decided to give the reader a name in this fic.

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

My name is Bella Mikaelson. I’m 25 years old living in New York, Lower Manhattan with my 8 year old daughter. I’ve lived here my entire life. I graduated from New York University Tisch School of the Arts where I spent my time studying drama and music, and also in my free time did some photography. Ever since I was a little kid all I wanted to do was perform, tell stories whether it was through acting, writing or singing a song. I did musicals all throughout high school, but during my senior year I became pregnant with my boyfriend at the time Caleb, we had been dating since sophomore year. Everything was perfect, my parents came around and supported me the same with Caleb and his parents. Sadly during my second year of Uni, he passed away in a car accident leaving me and leaving Camila fatherless, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have some good father figures. That’s when I started working harder on my studies and starting adding more hours to my job so I could make more money to make sure my daughter would have a good life growing up. During my last year of University I got a modelling job, it wasn’t anything big but it paid well. Around that time I also joined an acting agency started getting little jobs doing adverts, then getting small role in TV shows nothing big, just one liners. I had saved up a lot of money at this point and hired an manger to help me get auditions. Around 2 months later of going on auditions I get to audition for Eric Kripke for his show Supernatural. During season 14 they were looking for a new hunter who Sam and Dean come across on a hunt. Near the end of the season. So we sent in a video tape since I was nowhere near where auditions were being held. Then a few weeks later I get a call saying they wanted me to come to Vancouver and audition in person. Let’s just say I ended up getting the role and I have been living in Vancouver now for the past 4 months with my daughter Camila. My mum also came with us until I got enough money to be able to pay for a nanny to help me look after Camila while I was at work. I also spent a few weeks before filming bingeing the whole seasons from 1-13 since I hadn’t ever watched the show before.

We are currently working on the season 14 finale episode before wrapping up before head out for hiatus. My contract had already been signed as I was wanted back for season 15 as well. However, I was only staying for half the season, as they were killing my character off in the upcoming season. I was currently on set, just finished filming a scene with Jared and Jensen in baby. It was now lunch. We all headed over to catering to grab something, I ended getting a chicken salad and grabbed myself 2 bottles of water and headed to the little seating area outside where we all sat during lunch. We only had one more scene to film before we were finished for the day and would be wrapped for the season. During hiatus we had different cons we would attend to but we also had time to relax and I couldn’t wait for that, to spend loads of time with my girl and take her on a mini holiday, as we never really been on a real holiday before.

I was currently eating my salad when Jared and Jensen came over after getting their food and sat down opposite to me on the bench. We were talking about what we were doing on our time off before convention season starts which I was being invited to as the viewers really welcomed my character Toni with open arms. It was like over night my life changed. I was now financially stable for one thing, so I could make sure Camila was well looked after which was the most important thing to me.

“So Bella, What are you going to be doing during hiatus?” Jared asked while eating a chicken sandwich.

“Thinking about going home fore a little while, back to New York. Cami hasn’t seen my parents in a little while, I could tell she is missing them a lot like me. So going home for a bit to relax doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Then maybe take her on a little mini holiday, just the two of us. What about you guys” I say.

He nods “Yeah. We’re going to do pretty much the same. I like having my family around. I miss them too much” Jensen agreed with his statement.

Throughout the rest of our lunch break we continue talking about little small things and what was going to happen during con season. Once we had finished lunch we headed over got some retouches as we had just eaten and then we headed into the library set to finished our last scene for the season.

It was currently around 8pm, sine we started filming early this morning we gad enough time to get all the shots we needed and got to head home a little later than normal as while shooting the final scene Jared and Jensen kept trying to make everyone laugh but we got through it and got all the shots we needed. I was getting my belongings from my trailer and FaceTime Camila as it was getting close to her bedtime and I never liked not saying goodnight to her, even though I was leaving I just like to make sure. I could get in traffic and I would be annoyed with myself for not doing when I had the chance.

“So how was you day sweetie?” I ask.

“It was good. I finished all my math homework even though I found hard, but I figured it out” she said proudly.

I smile. She always made me smile. “Well that’s good. I’m proud of you, keep that up. Don’t give up and you can do anything sweetie. So what did you end up having for dinner tonight?”

“SPAGHETTI AND MEATBALLS” she screamed. I start laughing as I know that’s her favourite meal in the world.

“Ohhh. I’m jealous. Hehe. Well I’m gonna just about to leave work right now to come home ok. I’m going to try and get home in time baby, but if I don’t I’m gonna say goodnight now ok.”

“Ok mummy. Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you too my sweet baby”

“Goodnight”

“Sweet dreams petal.” Then we end the call and I finished putting my things away in my bags when a knock comes from my trailer door. I call for the person to come in, when Jensen pops in with Jared following him.

“Hey Bella” Jensen said while leaning on the counter and Jared sat down on the sofa.

“Hey, What do you guys need?” I ask while putting my laptop into its case with its charger.

“We forgot to ask you this at lunch today, we are having a BQQ in a couple weeks. It’ll be our to families as well at the Collins. Alex is coming we just spoke with him, now we are asking you? You think you’ll be free Sunday before the Cons start?” Jensen said.

“Errmmm… let me check my calendar.” I say and get out my phone and opening up my calendar app. I had nothing planned. “Nope, looks like I free that weekend.”

“Great! You’re coming then. I’ll text you the address, it’ll be at my house. Bring Camila too. It’ll be nice to have all little ones around together.” Jared said.

“Yeah” I said with a smile. We said our goodbyes and they headed off while I collected my packed bags and headed to my car and leaving and heading back to my Vancouver home. If I rushed I would make it just in time before Camila had to be in bed.

Life’s Complicated Tag-List 

@myopiamystical @ms-reader @musiclovinchic93 @tvshowlover123 @scatchia @sixx-sic-sixx @imaginationisgrowth @hettolini @leftjensenackleshollywoodshoe @dolans-lover @alittlebittyuniverse @smoothdogsgirl @xostephanie @idksupernatural @imsuperawkward @notsoftstcn @hazelle-uvu @amywinchesterxx @easygoingtheatre @jack-kline-world @simonadii @uglycryinginthekitchen @c-ly-g @hellosweetdeath @clawsandshotguns @sarsmilesah @catieiscute2001 @midnight-archer03 @lidibug @101stshippersquad @maesflower @shadowhunter82 @alliedimlerr

[kingoji]

TFN17 wrap up post.

Apologies for not doing this sooner. Batteries were still too low!

While my bro and I arrived at the Hilton on Thursday and were met by so many of the friends and faces we only normally get to see at TFN already settled in and having a grand old time, for me the convention-associated shenanigans didn't start until the next day.You see, on Thursday something just as important was yet to happen: Godzilla.

Shin Godzilla was getting a one-night-only screening at select cinemas throughout the UK. If you know me well enough you know that Godzilla *probably* pips just about everything else as the thing I'm the biggest fan of. And the Japanese films have never had a UK cinematic release in my lifetime, until now. I was going, even if I went alone.Luckily I didn't have to. A small group of about seven of us all ended up going, which made it a happier experience for me. Thanks to all of you guys who came, hope you don't just bin the little figs I handed out in appreciation. ;)

For those who may not know, I'm a staff member for TFN. So a great deal of my weekend was spent flitting about doing different jobs here and there, whilst also trying to do a decent showing at the Forge table I was sharing with my bro and our Transmasters UK buds and cohorts Gav and Andy. AND trying to make sure I got to see some of the panels I was most interested in. So it was a very tiring but very satisfying weekend altogether.

Thank you, by the way, to everyone who visited the Forge and supported our arts and crafters (not just our table). I get the impression that it was a much more successful performance than it was last year, and I look forward to reading feedback from those who had stalls and getting a better sense of it all. But honestly I can only see it getting bigger and better in the future, for as long as it is desired.

Speaking of things getting bigger and better: the side panel room. I have to confess that we simply did not expect some of the events going on in there to pull in the numbers of audience that they ended up doing. Again you overwhelm us with your support and enthusiasm, and while we ended up having to repeat some items and relocate the panel room entirely to the next available room of greater size I hope we did so and informed you all promptly enough for it to have not had too negative an impact on your weekend.

Similarly, thank you all for making the Trial And Error comic a resounding success. Thanks in particular to Jim, Chris, and Andy for bringing me aboard to work on this project, and also to Gav and Herz for being wonderful collaborators who ensured the book remained of the highest visual quality throughout and bringing their own visual flair to proceedings. I was honoured, humbled, and very proud to have worked on this project and equally so with this team. I hope you everyone enjoys/ed the comic, and that those who attended the panel on it didn't find my mumbling too incoherent.

The guests I found to all be delightful as well.While I didn't get to speak to her as often as I would have liked in my free time, and didn't get to see her panel at all due to duty, Venus Terzo seemed very much to be a person where to meet her is to love her. She was very enthusiastic and seemed to be riding the wave of general good vibes on quite the high throughout the whole show. And much like Richard Newman last year, just hearing her speak in-character was enough to give me chills.

Mark Ryan was equally as enthusiastic and welcoming, and probably played the audience the most of all the guests. I think he'd be back in a heartbeat if he were asked.

Hal and Maggie were like a whirlwind of voices and energy. There was never a dull moment if you were even in earshot of them. I think it's safe to say that Hal stole the show in the script reading (which I was lucky enough to sit in on rehersals for). Given that he was often holding entire conversations with himself with three very different and distinct OTT characters, he was genuinely a sight to behold.

Maggie also got to create a Transformer for the script reading, giving a voice and personality to the convention's exclusive figure Rune (which I bought one of for her). I think she got a kick out of that, as she signed some things for people on the Sunday with Rune as a credit.Happily I did manage to make sure they all got copies of the prints I did, as well as the original art, very early on. Also managed to get my own copies signed too.

Other first-timers:

It was an honour and so very satisfying to FINALLY get Bob Budiansky to one of these things. He has probably got the dryest wit I ever met.

Jack Lawrence has proven himself to be a great bloke and very much OUR kind of guest. Fully expect him to become a regular.

Sara Pitre Durocher, sadly, I didn't get to spend much time with at all. I introduced myself, gave her a Starscream drawing, and got a couple of autographs, but otherwise I don't think I made her feel very comfortable in my presence. Sorry about that.

And Josh Perez. Oh, my god, Josh Perez.You ever meet someone for the first time and just hit it off? Within half an hour you feel like you've been besties forever? THAT'S Josh Perez. For every-fucking-one. If he doesn't become a regular I will rage-quit my life and go live in his drains or something.

As ever, it's great to see Nick, James, Simon, Geoff, Jim, and Stephen in any capacity. Although I didn't see anywhere near as much as I would have liked of Alex, Kei, and JP. But that goes for in life in general, not just the show.

I don't know where to begin with my friends, though. I was so SO happy to see and be around each and every one of you, no matter how fleetingly. Some of you are my anchors, some of you I knew before but started to get to know better, some of you i'm only really starting to learn about now. But you are all my heart and my family. I can only apologise for the little time most of you got, or that I didn't get the chance to give many goodbyes. Sadly my intorvercy and low self-esteem got the better of me as I watched all these people I loved laughing and joking with each other, and I began to feel somewhat surplus to events and had to make an unnoticed exit. Nothing upsets me more than being that guy, so next year I might handcuff myself into a group and not let it happen.

Because there WILL be next year. Wheels are turning, rooms are booked, invites are written.

Don't forget your shades.

Peace and Respect. Ed Pirrie

[anoverwhelmingloser]

Come To

We were supposed to be each other’s firsts. It was a promise made on a Saturday morning in November, after the first night we’d spent together. “When we’re both ready,” she whispered. Her feet were so cold pressing into my shins and I could taste the stale acidity of my mouth fermenting, but we lay still, intertwined like strings of Christmas lights. Her breath shuddered against my neck as she gave over the weight of her skull to my chest. Eventually, she sat up and rubbed her left shoulder, looking out the window at the snow tumbling down in sloppy sheets. We kissed, gently – her lips crisp with the taste of peppermint chapstick – and she said she felt most like herself in my arms. I was jacking off when I found out that she died in late August. Classes were starting in a week, and I was already back at school, but Diana was supposed to stay in Seattle a few more days for her brother’s wedding. Her mom Carol told me hysterically over the phone that Diana was setting up for her band’s rehearsal in the hotel ballroom for the reception and she accidentally stuck her finger in the electrical socket. By the time they got her to the emergency room she was gone. Carol invited me to stay with them for the funeral – it would be on Monday – but she understood if I didn't have it in me to come. A sick tragedy, she muttered; her angel was gone. Before she could hang up, I was dry heaving, leaning over my toilet with blue balls. “Freak accident, I'm so sorry man,” someone said with a hand on my knee, and then another someone with a green sock hat nodded in agreement, and then another someone in a pair of clean white overalls said that I needed a drink. My roommates had planned a party; they offered to cancel, but it seemed too hard to have to tell all of my marginal acquaintances over text what happened. They found out anyway, obviously. I thought about leaving the apartment once everyone was crowding my couch, but there wasn't another bed to fall onto and a pile of limbs to collapse into anymore. I clung to a bottle of tequila instead. Frankie’s drum kit, which lived in the common space, was suddenly and violently attacked by someone who was not Frankie; angry heat washed over me. Conversations about disappointing class schedules and monotonous summer jobs and grueling apartment hunts grew loud and harsh in my ear – the combined effect of the uninvited jam session and the alcohol. Soon, people were standing in various formations above me, creating a poorly designed skyline of bobbing heads and plastic cups. My eyes felt smoky, unblinking. I hadn’t gotten drunk in a long time, and the sourness in my stomach twisted into knots. Joanna, Bradley’s girlfriend, handed me a plate of blue corn tortilla chips and store bought guacamole, “You should eat something.” I took the plate, faking appreciation, but I didn't want to engage. Instead, I got up to pee. Joshua and Eden and Tall Alex were squeezed into the tiny hallway, taking shots. As soon as they saw me coming, they stopped laughing and pushed themselves against the walls, parting the way with sorry eyes. Eden grabbed my hand and pitifully smiled. Once I was in our shoebox bathroom, I looked at myself for the first time since the phone call. But my eyes couldn't focus on my reflection – partly because the mirror hadn't been cleaned since we moved back in, but mostly because I was a walking hologram of leaking light. My skin felt dried out, like after a day in the ocean, but cloudier. I splashed water on my feverish cheeks and ran my tongue over my teeth, trying to feel the plaque that was undoubtedly there. Someone knocked before I could get to the mouthwash. “Hey, you almost done in there? I’m gonna piss myself.” An unfamiliar voice shot through my daze. I opened the door to a short girl with firecracker hair, curly and untamed. She looked up from her cup and huffed past me. A breeze of cinnamon sweat and lavender deodorant lingered. I could hear her unzipping her jeans; I tried not to remember the effortless, full swing of her hips. Diana’s frame was so small, I was always afraid I’d somehow break her, even when we were just making out. I used to look forward to the day she would say she was ready, but seeing hickeys on her tender neck for weeks at a time, I feared the bruises I could leave all over her fragile body. “Henry, do you wanna come over and help me move the furniture on Friday?” Diana winked. That was the euphemism we’d agreed upon from a list of 400 we’d found online the morning of the promise; it was the least offensive, she said, and also the dumbest. I was just glad to not be in a fight so I eagerly agreed to the date, our first in a long time, and kissed her on the forehead. “This will be really good for us.” My distorted silhouette quivered in her heavy eyes when I told her I loved her. Walking home, I felt like I was sailing; it was perfect timing because we’d both be leaving Boston for the summer, and each other, in just a few days. But the entire week I couldn’t focus on my finals, or get myself to pack, or even enjoy the thick sun of May afternoons. I woke up from a dream soaked in my own sweat on Thursday morning; Diana and I were having sex in the top of Big Ben tower (she was planning on studying abroad in London second semester of junior year), and somehow she fell the 315 feet into nothingness. When I told her, I think she laughed, but the simulated guilt lingered. I had a panic attack Friday during my linguistics final and spent the rest of the night in the ER. She brought wilting deli flowers and didn’t talk much. We cuddled in the hospital bed until she had to leave for the airport. “Do you live here?” The redheaded girl was closing the bathroom door as the gurgling toilet settled into silence. “Because your bathroom is disgusting.” “Oh, sorry about that … Hey, um, I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here? Who are you with?” “I’m Polly, friends with Alex. He dragged me here.” Her deep-cut black blouse exposed her collarbone, goosebumped. “Okay. Cool. Well, are you having a good night?” “Not really. Not drunk enough to deal with everyone, you know? I hate feeling that way – when you’re just too conscious of how everyone is acting and how you’re supposed to be acting and you’re not acting that way.” “Yeah, that’s rough.” “Oh, wait. Fuck, I feel like an asshole. You were with Diana.” She looked like she was on the verge of tears and I could almost make out my reflection in her soft, watery eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know her that well, but she seemed like a sweetheart. We always ran into each other at Pavement on Sunday mornings. I was always hungover, in desperate need of coffee, and she would be deep into some huge novel or scribbling in a notebook. Anyway, I’m sorry for your loss.” “Yeah. Thanks.” A bead of sweat dribbled down my back and I suddenly realized how close I was standing to Polly’s full, rosy cheeks. “Sorry, I, um, gotta – I’ll see you around.” I slammed my bedroom door shut, locking it behind me. I wanted to remember the way she was mindlessly braiding her hair when I served her that first almond latte on a fall morning, the dimpled smile she gave back; but her face was 3,000 miles away. For the rest of the night, I tortured myself by saying over and over, “Diana is dead.” I tried to whisper it to her spirit which was surely watching me with contempt, I tried screaming it at the photo of us in ugly Christmas sweaters (her on my lap, kissing my cheek) situated triumphantly upon my bedside table, but it was all in vain; it had been 16 hours since I’d heard that my girlfriend Diana Maeve Russell was electrocuted to death and I couldn’t find it in me to cry. When I woke up, my head felt like a sponge, entirely saturated, begging to be wrung out. It was 2 pm. The last time I'd felt the bite of a hangover gnawing on every nerve ending seemed so long ago; in April, after Frankie’s band, Born Tourists, played its first show, we all went bar hopping. Diana woke me up with incessant door banging after a meager two hours of sleep. “Where have you been? You just decided to turn your phone off all night?” Her face was twisted into a streaky blur of mascara and snot, furiously dribbling down her chin. “Oh, it died I guess. Just went out after the show, you said you didn’t want to go. Figured you were asleep.” “I had a really shitty day. I called you like fifteen times. Why’d you stay out so fucking late, you know I hate when you’re drunk.” Her arms folded across her heaving chest. “Diana -” “You didn’t even think about me all night while you were out taking shots and flirting with the sluts at Dugout.” “What? Flirting? Diana, It was just Josh and Frankie and Bradley and Joanna and Mary, no one you don’t know. I don’t want to flirt with anyone, I don’t need to.” I was an all over ache; percussion in my head. “I wish you trusted me.” “Well you make it really fucking hard, Henry.” She wiped her nose, fired her bullet eyes, and charged for the door. “Thanks so much for that heartfelt apology. Your concern is overwhelming.” We made up a few days later, but the sting never quite dissolved. I stopped drinking mostly. It was all pins and needles with Diana, yet I felt an obligation to always be by her side. We never got to have our special night, so things felt very uncertain when I flew home. I thought summer would be a relief, but the distance just sent us into a chaotic spiral of passive hatred. Most of my days in Dallas were spent on the phone arguing about my relationship with Zoey, my high school best friend; Diana was paranoid that I had feelings for her. It got so bad that I had to stop hanging out with her after work. “It would just make me feel more secure in our relationship. I need to know that I matter to you,” Di whined over FaceTime. We were fighting almost every night and I was desperate to make things work, so I spent all my birthday money on a flight to Seattle at the end of July. It was a quick weekend trip, and she was happy to see me; we held hands and walked through Pike Place Market and kissed at the top of the Space Needle and drank coffee from the original Starbucks. Saturday night, we cooked dinner together for her family – fresh Chilean Sea Bass and risotto and green beans and lots of wine. Diana liked casual drinking, as long as the intention wasn’t to get drunk; but that night she got plastered. She laughed, and danced, and splashed me as we did the dishes, and wrestled her little brother to the ground, and slid down the long hallways in socks, and kissed me endlessly. I recognized the shirt Diana wore from the Sunday morning we first met. We lay on her lemon yellow duvet, overcrowded with pillows. The pink and white striped walls looked like the inside of a candy store, and they were covered with doodles and notes from her childhood friends. I looked up at the blue moon-shaped lights hanging from the bed frame, and past Diana’s blonde ponytail thrown from side to side as she brushed her lips against my neck; an array of picture frames was arranged on the white shelf, staring at me. I saw Diana and Shannon Carmichael, her childhood best friend, wrapped in each other’s tiny arms, wearing matching witch hats and face paint; I saw Dylan Truscott posed awkwardly around Diana in an ill-fitting tux at junior prom; I saw Samantha, Diana’s freshman year roommate on move-in day, I even saw Joanna and Bradley, front row at a concert over the summer. But on the entire wall, I couldn’t find a single picture of the two of us. “Henry? Can we…?” She was reaching for my belt, determination in her eyes. “You had a lot of wine, Di.” “So? You did too.” “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not like this.” “But I want to.” Her swollen, hopeful face steered into mine; I grasped her shoulders. “Don’t you want to remember your first time?” “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m tired of acting like it’s so special when everyone else has been doing it since we were in eighth grade.” “You don’t want it to be special? Then what am I here for? Let’s just get some loser from Tinder over here. I bet he’ll fuck your brains out.” “Jesus, Henry, what is wrong with you?” “I don’t matter to you.” “What? Why would you be here in my bed with me if you didn’t matter?” “You don’t show it.” “Henry, you never even touch me. You hate PDA, you don’t want to have sex. Are you not attracted to me anymore?” “Are you fucking kidding me Diana? I’m just trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to protect you.” “I don’t need you to protect me. I can make my own decisions.” “But you’re drunk. Tonight isn’t the right night, Di. Let’s go to sleep.” “When is it going to be the right time? You keep doing this to me. I’m trying to share a moment with you and you don’t seem to want anything to do with it. So honestly, tell me, do you not love me anymore?” “Diana, I can’t do this, seriously, why can’t you just believe in me?” She inhaled sharply, her bottom lip taut. She climbed off of me and straightened her shirt. “You're impossible.” I tossed and turned in the starchy guest room sheets all night; Diana locked me out of her room, but I could hear her sobbing through the walls. In the morning, we had a polite cup of coffee with her parents before leaving for my flight. I thanked them for hosting me. She drove and didn't speak; our stubborn silence screamed over the car radio. We hugged goodbye outside of the baggage drop-off, but I couldn’t feel her breath on my neck or her heartbeat against my chest. She was as distant from me then, in my arms on a gray Sunday morning, as she would soon become; her body still, not yet with death, but with the weak knees of defeat. “We’re going midnight bowling. Come.” Eden and Mary were peeking through the door to my bedroom, smiling warily. I told myself I wouldn’t go out, I told myself to do what you’re supposed to do when you lose someone who matters to you. I looked at our old texts and Facebook posts, trying to miss her. Carol, and Diana’s dad Mike, and her brother Evan, and Shannon Carmichael, and 306 of her other friends had posted photos and messages on her wall: “The most loving, caring, beautiful daughter I could have ever asked for. Rest in Peace, Diana;” “Di, you were with me through everything, I know your kind, generous spirit is in heaven;” “I love and miss you already sweet girl xoxo.” I slammed my computer shut and punched the pile of pillows at the edge of my unmade bed. I was desperate to feel something, but the arresting smell of pot drifted into my room and suddenly the plan to grieve in the house alone all night became very hazy. All I wanted was to get incredibly fucked up and I felt very little remorse about it. Before we even left, I took eight shots and smoked a bowl in spite of my friends’ apprehensive glances. Frankie drove us to Lucky Strike, which was more crowded than I’d ever seen it. I saw people from my freshman year writing seminar, guys I’d played in intramural soccer, some girls in the band that opened for Born Tourists, all sneaking sips from flasks while waiting in line for a pair of disinfected clown shoes. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and the decision to walk past vaguely familiar faces was liberating. Everyone seemed afraid to talk to me, even friends; they couldn’t decide on the right thing to say, so they kept their distance. The bubble surrounding me instilled a profound confidence in me, defiance even, so I found Drew in the bathroom and did a line of coke. “On the house,” he said, since it was my first time. It burned my nose, but once I emerged from the row of grimy lockers and sweaty towel baskets, I looked at the electric screens above the purple flashing footlights lining the shiny lanes. My nerves quieted as the lights flooded me with warmth; the bass of the dance music pulsated in my skull. I stepped on some scattered, smashed M&M’s, leaving tiny drops of colorful, melted chocolate in the stained carpet. The disco ball glimmered over a bald man with rotting teeth walking past with a mop. The door to outside was wide open, letting in the muggy night and cigarette smoke. I had an urgent need to be surrounded by laughing mouths, but I couldn’t find any that I recognized. The party I had come to was gone; these were just faceless phantoms throwing big bubblegum balls. My skin all of a sudden felt so disconnected; a dying battery. I thought bowling would be too sobering, and I didn’t want to lose the little spark left in me, so I sat near the bar and watched a group of ornery old men play pool. “Henry? Are you okay?” Polly was standing there, her arm pressing into my chair, her fingers on my shoulder. I realized I was collapsed over the table, like a pile of dirty clothes; I straightened up at her touch. “Can I get you some water?” “I’m good, really, so good. How’s your night? You can sit. If you want.” “How are you holding up? Was today any better?” I met her silk eyes. Her usual wild curls were pacified tonight. “Today blows. I’m tired of feeling sick to my stomach. I just want it to be over.” “Are you going to the funeral? Maybe that’ll help. Closure, or whatever.” She started playing with the scraps of napkin left on the table. “I haven’t decided. Don’t really wanna. I don’t want to have to think about her anymore. She’s like a never-ending fever. Even dead, she’s plaguing me.” She shifted in her seat, wrapping her hands around mine; trying to pry me open. My head detached from my body; a balloon, threatening to pop at any second. “Can I tell you something really awful? Part of me was relieved when I heard.” “Henry, you don’t mean that. You’re fucked up.” “Diana would hate me so much for tonight. Jesus. So pure and beautiful and full of hate.” “Woah.” “I know, I know, I sound like an awful person. But she wasn’t the picture of perfection that everyone makes her out to be. I was terrified of how much pain we could cause each other.” “You’re allowed to feel weird and conflicted. If you weren’t happy, you weren’t happy. It was an insane, tragic accident, but that doesn’t mean you have to mythologize her or pretend for anyone.” Polly ran her fingers through her hair, splitting it into three sections, and began twisting them around each other. A braid rippling along the arch of her neck. The morning light hitting her delicate shoulders just so. Her ink-stained fingers clutching the mossy green mug. The scrap of paper left on the table with 10 numbers and a tiny heart. My heart suddenly plunged itself into the crashing waves of my chest; drowning, breathless. “I think you’re beautiful. I know it’s fucked up – really just shit timing – but I can’t help it, that’s how I feel.” My rollercoaster lips collided into hers. Magnetic scarlet light enveloped the bowling alley. But her lips didn’t taste like sweet mint candy; they didn’t taste like anything at all. I felt the glow of the kiss sink into rainy nothingness as puddles fell from my lashes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I pulled away into dizziness, I couldn’t see through my tears. But I ran out of the bowling alley and all the way home despite the ache in my chest. I frantically threw sweatshirts and underwear and toothpaste in my suitcase, and I could feel my head going fuzzy as I came down. But the clarity of Diana’s diamond-shaped face and the velvety blush of her cheeks and the fullness of her wildflower lips cut through the haze. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was at the airport, buying a ticket for the 5:35 am flight out. I knew I needed to be there. Carol and Mike were waiting for me in Seattle, exhaustion weighing down their shoulders, but we shared a sober hug in the foyer of the house. “We’re glad you’re here, Henry. Diana would’ve wanted that.” After lunch, where I nibbled on a turkey sandwich, they let me have some time alone in her bedroom; untouched, messy, the way she left it. Her bedding was different than I remembered, but her sheets smelled like her shampoo and her detergent and her breath. The orchid-colored dress she was going to wear to the wedding was hanging on her closet door. I noticed a new picture had been added to the shelf, next to the prom photo. It was my silhouette, sunny and unassuming, looking out at the calm Elliott Bay waterfront on that hot July afternoon. I hadn’t really stopped crying since I left Boston, but now the tears spilled anew. I carefully took the photo out of the frame and noticed that it had only been printed about eight days ago. In purple pen, Diana had written on the back, “Henry – my loving and frustrating and stubborn and divine boy – forever my first.” I wore my only suit to the funeral and sat next to her brothers. It was a closed casket, but it didn’t bother me. Somehow, in knowing her memory of us, I found the strength to let her go. I threw a handful of dirt into the ground where she would lay and thought of her body which I had been so lucky to hold; I didn’t cry anymore. Strangers hugged me and told me how sorry they were for my loss. I slept in her bed the night before I left, soaking up the last bits of her. At the airport, I bought a pack of peppermint gum and chewed the whole thing on the seven hour flight. I landed in Boston and spit it out.