#Number 1 Barbecues

[nocherrybombs]

Food Safety is Always Important

Lumine: Thanks for inviting me to the House of the Hearth cookout, Lyney. I can honestly say that this is the most terrifying party I have ever attended.

Lyney: I'm glad you're enjoying yourself.

Lumine: Is the Knave wearing a t-shirt that says "Fish fear me, women also fear me, everyone fears me, I am very scary"?

Lyney: We needed to find her something casual to wear and this is the best we could come up with on short notice.

Lumine: But why?

Lyney: Look, do you have any idea how unsettling it is to get served hot dogs off the grill by a woman in a three-piece suit?

Meanwhile, at the grill...

Arlecchino: I don't see what the problem is. It is meat, like steak, is it not?

Freminet: Father, please, I am begging you. Chicken tartare is not safe to eat. You have to cook it all the way through. The other children will get food poisoning!

Arlecchino: Food poisoning is nothing more than weakness leaving the body.

Lynette: It's definitely something leaving the body.

Paimon: For the first time in her life, Paimon isn't hungry anymore.

[sneezypeasy]

The Lightning Scene, How Azula Targeted Katara (of All People), and the Doylist Reason Why That Matters

Mention Zuko's sacrifice for Katara in Sozin's Comet Part 3 as part of a pro-Zutara talking point, and invariably you'll get a Pavlovian response of:

"But Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone."

(Not to be confused with the similar-sounding Pavlovan response, which is "Zuko's sacrifice ain't shit compared to a mouth-watering, strawberry-topped meringue dessert"*, which is actually the only valid counter-argument to how the lightning scene is a bona fide Zutara treasure, but I digress.)

Now, I've talked in depth about how the lightning scene is framed far more romantically than it had any right to be, regardless of how you might interpret the subject on paper; this is an argument which I still stand by 100%. That Zuko would have gotten barbecued for anyone, and that he was at the stage of his arc where his royal kebab-ness represented his final act of redemption, doesn't change the fact that the animators/soundtrack artists decided to pull out all the stops with making this scene hit romantic film tropes bingo by the time it played out on screen.

(I mean, we stan.)

There's also a deeper level to this conundrum, a layer which creeps up on you when you're standing in your kitchen at night, the fridge door open in front of you, your hungry, sleep-deprived brain trying to decide on what to grab for a midnight snack, and quite inexcusably you're struck with the question: Okay, Zuko may indeed have taken the lightning for just anyone, but would Azula have shot the lightning at just anyone?

But there's yet a deeper layer to this question, that I don't recall ever seeing anyone discuss (though if somebody has, mea culpa). And that is: would you have written Zuko taking the lightning for anyone else?

Or in other words, who Zuko would have taken the lightning for is the wrong question to be asking; the question we ought to be asking is who Zuko should have taken the lightning for, instead.

Get your pens out, your Doylist hats on, and turn to page 394. It's time to think like an author for a hot minute.

(If you don't know what I mean by Watsonian vs. Doylist analyses, and/or if you need a refresher course, go have a skim of the first section of this 'ere post and then scoot your ass back to this one.)

So. You're the author. You've written almost the entirety of an animated series (look at you!!) and now you're at the climax, which you've decided is going to be an epic, hero-villain showdown. Classic. Unlike previous battles between these two characters, your hero is going to have a significant advantage in this fight - partly due to his own development as a hero at the height of his strength and moral conviction, and partly because your villain has gone through a bit of a Britney Spears 2007 fiasco, and isn't quite at the top of her game here. If things keep going at this pace, your hero is going to win the fight fairly easily - actually, maybe even too easily. That's okay though, you're a talented writer and you know just what will raise the stakes and give the audience a well-timed "oh shit" moment: you're going to have the villain suddenly switch targets and aim for somebody else. The hero will be thrown off his groove, the villain will gain the upper hand, the turns will have indubitably tabled. Villains playing dirty is the number 1 rule in every villain handbook after all, and each of the last two times your hero's braved this sort of fight he's faced an opponent who ended up fighting dishonourably, so you've got a lovely Rule of Three perfectly lined up for the taking. Impeccable. The warm glow of triumph shines upon you, cherubs sing, your English teachers clap and shed tears of pride. (Except for that one teacher you had in year 8 who hated everybody, but she's a right bitch and we're not talking about her today.)

Now here's the thing: your hero is a hero. Maybe he wasn't always a hero, but he certainly is one now. If the villain goes after an innocent third party, there's basically no-one your hero wouldn't sacrifice himself for. He's a hero! Heroes do be like that, it's kind of their thing. The villain could shoot a bolt of lightning at Bildad the Shuhite, and the only thing that'd stop our boy Redeemed Paladin Bravesoul McGee from shielding his foxy ass is the fact that Bildad the Shuhite has the audacity to exist in a totally different show (disgusten.)

But. You're holding the writer's pen. Minus crossover shenanigans you don't have the licensing or time-travel technology to achieve, you have full control over how this scene plays out. You get to decide which character to target to deliver the greatest emotional impact, the juiciest angst, the most powerful cinematic suspense. You get to decide whose life you'll put at risk, to make this scene the most intense spine-chilling heart-stopper it can possibly be.

This is the climax we're talking about, after all - now is not the time to go easy on the drama.

So.

Do you make the villain target just anyone?

Or do you make the villain target someone the hero cares about?

Perhaps, someone he cares about... a lot?

Maybe even, someone he cares about... more than anybody else?

You are the author. You are the God of this universe. You get to choose.

What would deliver the strongest punch?

If you happen to make the inadvisable decision of browsing through these tropes on TV tropes, aside from wasting the rest of your afternoon (you're welcome), you'll find that the examples listed are littered with threatened and dead love interests, and, well, there's a reason for that. For better or worse, romantic love is often portrayed by authors, and perceived by audiences, as a "true" form of love (often even, "the" true form of love). Which is responsible for the other is a chicken/egg situation, one I'm not going to go into for this post - and while I'm certainly not here to defend this perspective as objectively good, I do think it's worth acknowledging that it not only exists but is culturally rather ubiquitous. (If you're playing the love interest in a story with a hero v. a villain, you might wanna watch your back, is what I'm saying.)

Regardless of whether the vibe you're aiming for is romantic or platonic however, one thing is for certain: if you want maximum oomph, the way to achieve that is by making the villain go after the player whose death would hit the hero the hardest.

And like I said, this doesn't have to be played romantically (although it so often is). There are platonic examples in those trope pages, though it's also important to note that many of the platonic ones do show up in stories where a love interest isn't depicted/available/there's a strong "bromance" element/the hero is low-key ace - and keep in mind too that going that route sometimes runs a related risk of falling into queer-bait territory *coughJohnLockcough*

That said, if there is a canon love-interest available, one who's confessed her love for the hero, one who has since been imprisoned by the villain, one who can easily be written as being at the villain's disposal, and who could quite conveniently be whipped out for a mid-battle surprise round - you might find you have some explaining to do if you choose to wield your authorly powers to have the villain go after... idk, some other sheila instead.

(The fact that this ends up taking the hero out of the fight, and the person he sacrifices himself for subsequently throws herself into the arena risking life and limb to defeat the villain and rescue her saviour, also means the most satisfying way this plays out, narratively speaking, is if both of these characters happen to be the most important person in each other's lives - at least, as of that moment, anyway - but I think this post has gone on long enough, lol)

This is, by and large, a rebuttal post more than anything else, but the tl;dr here is - regardless of whether you want to read the scene as shippy or not, to downplay Zuko's sacrifice for Katara specifically as "not that deep™" because "Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone anyway", suggests either that a) nobody should be reading into the implications of Katara being chosen as the person nearest and dearest to Zuko, so that putting her life in jeopardy can deliver the most powerful impact possible for an audience you'd bloody well hope are on the edge of their seats during the climax of your story or b) the writers made the inexplicable decision of having the villain threaten the life of... literally who the fuck ever, and ultimately landed on someone who's actually not all that important to the hero in the grand scheme of things - which is a cardinal writing sin if I ever saw one (even disregarding the Choice to then season it with mood lighting and sad violin music, on top of it all), and altogether something I'd be legitimately pissed about if my Zuko-OTP ship paired him with Mai, Sokka, or just about anybody else 😂

Most importantly c) I'm hungry, and I want snacks.

*The Aussies in the fandom will get this one. Everyone else can suffer in united confusion.

[pedgito]

It's the season of Summer Lovin'—and with the perfect...men. A Pedro Pascal character extravaganza all wrapped up into a series of locations, hidden behind numbers of your choosing and carefully crafted for each Pedro boy. If you're interested, please be sure to read through the following instructions and important information below:

There are 50 moodboards to choose from, first come first serve. (none of these pictures dictate the appearance of reader, this is all purely for vibes and up for your own interpretation) All request need to be sent through my askbox!

There's no maximum word count, but we suggest a minimum of 500 words if you're interested, but that is only a suggestion. Write as much or as little as your heart demands.

(Located under the read more) All numbers are separated by 10 location and labeled 1-5 on each, so when requesting a number please do so in the following manner, [ 'camping, #1' or 'barbecue, #5'] and in the chance that number is already taken, I will message you privately to re-choose.

These moodboards will come with the following requirements: a character, a location, and a quote/sentence that all must be incorporated into the fic, everything else is up to you!

All requests will take place June 2nd-3rd and entries will be due to be posted June 20th-22nd!

BY THE WATER

#1 — taken (@ladamedusoif)

#2 — javier pena x reader, like snow on the beach (@janaispunk)

#3 — dieter bravo x reader, poolside (@ovaryacted)

#4 — taken (@sp00kymulderr)

#5 — oberyn martell x reader, doves in the wind (@beskarandblasters)

CONCERT

#1 — tim rockford x reader, confessions (@wildemaven)

#2 — jack daniels x reader, the cowboy & the thief (@schnarfer)

#3 — frankie morales x reader, it's hell on earth to be heavenly (@hellfire-state-of-mind)

#4 — marcus pike x reader, a fine romance (@doscharolastras)

#5 — taken (@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin)

BARBECUE

#1 — marcus moreno x reader, you see me, i watch you (@iamasaddie)

#2 — taken (@beefrobeefcal)

#3 — lucien flores x reader, met you once saw you thrice (@undercoverpena)

#4 — joel miller x reader, wedding in the apocalypse (@i-own-loki)

#5 — frankie morales x reader, do you feel it too? (@burntheedges)

CAMPING

#1 — taken (@the-blind-assassin-12)

#2 — dieter bravo x reader, cabin down below (@eupheme)

#3 — taken (@pr0ximamidnight)

#4 — frankie morales x reader, bagged & tagged (@inept-the-magnificent)

#5 — din djarin x reader, sway the stars which dazzle like pearls (@lady-of-glass-and-bone)

ROAD TRIP

#1 — taken (@whocaresstillthelouvre)

#2 — joel miller x reader, sunshine (@couldsewyouastitchandsavenine)

#3 — jack daniels x reader, hit the road jack! (@thelastofhyde)

#4 — joel miller x reader, until men fell at their women's feet and asked for forgiveness (@jomiddlemarch)

#5 — dave york x reader, still (@sizzlingcloudmentality)

CARNIVAL

#1 — jack daniels x reader, hot chocolate (@punkshort)

#2 — taken (@starstruckunknown-princess)

#3 — taken (@vivian-pascal)

#4 — max phillips x reader, the eternal night (@ozarkthedog)

#5 — dieter bravo x reader, no solo riders (@missredherring)

HIKING

#1 — taken (@leslie-lyman)

#2 — frankie x reader, beneath the silent boughs, whispers of dangers flow (@joelalorian)

#3 — javier pena x reader, flora and fauna (@hellishjoel)

#4 — dieter x reader, a lesson in nature (@the-orange-tabby-cat)

#5 — joel miller x reader, stranded (@joelscurls)

WEDDINGS

#1 — taken (@amanitacowboy)

#2 — javier pena x reader, una noche en medellín (@luxurychristmaspudding)

#3 — marcus pike x reader, we'll regret this in the morning (@thesluttylittleknee)

#4 — dieter bravo x reader, princesa bride (@rhoorl)

#5 — joel miller x reader, my place or yours (@criticallyacclaimedstranger)

HEAT WAVE

#1 — javier pena x reader, like a fever (@pedgito)

#2 — joel miller x reader, consider it a favor (@chaotic-mystery)

#3 — taken (@quinnnfabrgay-writes)

#4 — taken (@rulexofxnines)

#5 — marcus moreno x reader, a little help goes a long way (@iluvstrawberry)

MUSEUM

#1 — taken (@carusolikey)

#2 — din djarin x reader, a perfect day (@flightlessangelwings)

#3 — pero tovar x reader, moonlight flight (@sawymredfox)

#4 — marcus pike x reader, when's the last time you lived (@avastrasposts)

#5 — joel miller x reader, who we were (@studioghibelli)

Please make sure to tag your entries under #SummerLovin24 and tag either @chaotic-mystery, @amanitacowboy, or myself (@pedgito)! These will all be reblogged through the week of June 20th-22nd!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 1)

Summary: After one of the reader's last concerts of the year, she unexpectedly runs into notorious playboy Dean Winchester, quarterback of the LA Wolves. Only Dean's a big fan and he seems to want more than just a photo if given the chance...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: I promise there'll be more Dean and reader interacting in person next part! Needed to set the scene with this!

_________

You groaned the second you were alone. You’d survived the summer tour but you were exhausted. All you wanted was a greasy hamburger, chicken nuggets, and to sleep for a month. After changing into a pair of joggers and oversized hoodie, you texted your bodyguard Eric, telling him you wanted to get out of there quietly. He knocked twice on your dressing room door before entering with a smile.

“Great show tonight,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Eric grabbing your backpack for you. 

“Like you pay attention to anything besides harassing the security team,” you said, resting your forehead against his strong chest. “I never want to tour again. I’m so tired.”

“You’re just cranky cause you’re hungry and need sleep,” he said rubbing your back. “You only have two more shows this year and then we can sit on the couch eating cookies and binging divorce court.”

“This is why I keep you around, buddy,” you laughed, taking a deep breathe before looking up. “Speaking of food-“

“Let’s get you out of here and full of some chicken nuggies.”

“Back in five,” you said to Eric thirty minutes later, your wallet in hand and panic button in your pocket. He let you go out without it sometimes but not after a show and especially not when you were in the press so much lately. 

It was nearly midnight as you walked into the nearly empty McDonald’s, a guy in a hoodie at the counter with his back to you. 

“Hi,” you said, stepping up to the other register. “Can I get a quarter pounder with cheese, a medium fry and a twenty piece chicken nugget with barbecue sauce? Oh and a bottle of water.”

You paid, the girl behind the counter staring at you like she recognized you but was too nervous to say anything.

“Holy shit,” said a male voice. You glanced left, the man in the hoodie pushing it down to reveal him in a black baseball cap. He was incredibly handsome and had such pretty green eyes. Something seemed vaguely familiar about him but you couldn’t place it. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N…and apparently you eat like a linebacker.”

“Dance on stage for three hours every night and you would too,” you said, the man humming.

“Do you mind if I get a pic?” he asked. 

“Sure,” you said, the man handing his phone to the girl behind the counter who eagerly took a few. He was practically giddy when he got his phone back, a bag of food coming out for him.

“Thanks for indulging me,” he said. You noticed a few strands of confetti on top of his hat and smiled. He must have been at the concert. He almost walked away and out the door when he spun around, parting his lips. “Can I give you my number?”

“Sure,” you said again. It was much safer to just take the number and hand it off to Eric to do a background check on the person than try a rejection. The man scribbled it down on the back of your receipt, your cashier now acting as his wing woman and making sure he had a pen.

“I uh, hope to hear from you soon,” he said, flashing you a wink before leaving. You eased when he was gone, the girl at the counter handing you your bag of food after a moment. 

“He’s so hot, isn’t he?” she said, your eyebrows raising. Not the reaction you were expecting from her.

“Mhm. Thanks for the food. Have a good night,” you said, quickly leaving. You ducked outside, Eric waiting in the backseat for you. 

“Any trouble?” he asked, nodding to the man farther down the parking lot, slipping into a large SUV.

“Just a fan,” you said, handing him the paper with the guys number. He gave you a side eye as he took it from your fingers. “He was harmless.”

“I’ll check it out to be sure,” he grumbled, stealing a fry from your bag. “Did you get me-“

“Yes I got you your nuggets,” you said, Eric relaxing back into his seat. Your driver headed for home and in twenty minutes you were on your couch chowing down. Eric was at the kitchen counter, lazily scrolling through his phone, probably grateful that you were secure in the house for the night.

You watch his eyes go wide, gaze shooting to you.

“I swear I didn’t do anything.” You kept eating your burger, Eric silently watching you. “Dude, you’re freaking me out.”

“That fan from McDonald’s posted the pic of you,” he said. You rolled your eyes and got up, sulking over to him.

“Oh tell me he’s not some whack job.”

“He’s Dean Winchester,” he said, showing his phone to you. You shrugged, walking back to the couch. “Dean Winchester? NFL quarterback? Three time Super Bowl winner?”

You stared at him, Eric groaning. 

“He’s the quarterback for the LA Wolves…he went to Kansas State the same time you did, Y/N. You probably went to his football games.” He rolled his eyes at you. “How do you not realize you’re taking a picture with a sports legend?”

“I must have missed it with all my free time over the past dozen years with all the touring and ten albums and other shit in my life. And frankly you’re the one that told me it doesn’t matter who it is, I need to be careful of everyone, whether they’re famous or not.” He sighed, putting his phone away.

“Alright, I get your point,” he said, returning to eating. “Dude’s kind of a player anyways it seems like. Nice guy but I know you’re more the sensitive guy type.”

“Emotionally available,” you corrected, plopping down on the couch once more. “Why would you think he’s into me anyways? Plenty of people are fans without wanting to get in my pants.”

“Well, it’s Dean Winchester so he definitely wants in your pants,” he joked. “Also the caption, genius.” 

You quirked your eyebrow, Eric tossing his phone over to you. You pouted when you went back to the post, actually reading it this time.

DWinchester67 Y/N Y/L/N Saturday Night Concert at the Wolves stadium. AMAZING TIME with the crew. Worth getting ragged on by the boys all week for taking them to the show just to see them belt their hearts out to #FinishLine (video soon)

Then had the awesome luck to snag a pic with Y/N grabbing a midnight snack. I was dying on the inside at meeting my crush. Sorry for being awkward when you were trying to get your grub on. Next time it’s on me ;)

Your eyes met Eric’s when you finished, his chicken nuggets nearly gone. 

“Yeah, like no reason he’s into you, right?” smirked Eric. You grumbled, returning to your late night dinner. “I’ll background check that number in the morning.”

“He’s a player that wants to have sex. Don’t bother with the background work. He’s harmless.”

“As you wish, princess,” he said with a little bow, earning himself being hit in the face with your balled up burger wrapper. “The abuse I put up with. Tsk tsk.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell that to your generous benefits package,” you said, Eric chuckling as he double checked the back doors were locked one last time. “Eric…”

“Mhm,” he hummed, ruffling your head gently as he walked past the back of the couch. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

“Night. Oh!” you said, sitting up on your knees on the couch, Eric throwing his head back. “It’s nothing bad! Just…can you ban everyone from the house until ten? I really want to sleep in and try to catch up.”

“You want me to fend off your team? After Dean Winchester posted that? What do I get out of this?” he teased, crossing his arms. You batted your eyes, jutting out your lip. “You got to do better than that.”

“I’ll buy you box seats to an LA Wolves game of your choice?” He looked blank faced which meant he was really tempted to take the offer. But Eric didn’t like extravagant gifts from you for doing his job. He already said his paycheck was more than enough and he barely accepted the Christmas and birthday presents you’d get for him.

You held up a finger, Eric calculating the move.

“Give me one good reason for not accepting.”

“First off, it’s too much. Second, I’m your primary protection agent and need to be available-”

“Please Eric? They’re going to be vultures in the morning with that whole post and you haven’t had a day off in six months. You’re as exhausted as I am. I’m asking as your friend, not your boss.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “Is that a yes?”

“It means I’ll think about it and I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “We’re going to watch football all day. I’ll teach you all about it.”

You growled, Eric snickering the whole way out.

Dean POV

The first game of the season was always a good one. The team was healthy. We had home field advantage for once. 

And I really enjoyed the hell out of playing football in a packed stadium. It wasn’t an ego thing like for some people. No, I loved putting on a show and entertaining people for a few hours a week, give them a fun escape before they had to return to the reality of their lives.

That’s what football had always been to me and I knew for most fans, it gave them that same sense of belonging.

And women tended to really like seeing a bunch of muscular men run around in tight pants.

“Winchester, surprised you’re here,” said Michael. I glanced over my shoulder in the locker room, a big smirk on his face. “I thought you’d be in the burn unit with how hard you crashed and burned with Y/N Y/L/N last night.”

I rolled my eyes at the taunts of the room, ignoring them as they riffed on me for a good ten minutes. When Benny walked in though they finally calmed down, Ben taking a seat in his cubby beside me.

“Let me have it,” I sighed. Benny leaned in close, covering his mouth from the rest of the room.

“If you really want that girl to go out with you, you got to do more than make an insta post. She’s classy. She’s not going to fawn over you like every dipshit you’ve dated because you’re good looking. So you better impress her.” He gave me one last look before reaching down to his duffel and pulling out his cleats.

He had a point. Y/N had never cared for cocky flirts. I could remember her in college, always spending time at parties with the shy academic guys that chatted her ear off about music theory and english papers. I swear the only time she gave a single jock attention was when she’d grab a guitar in the late hours of the night and sing a song none of us had heard before. She could stop a group of drunken college students in their tracks with a single note. Nowadays her music was all pop but back then, just her and a guitar…I’d have sworn an angel fell out of the sky straight in front of me.

No woman had made my heart swell up with comfort and longing the way she had the night I laid eyes on her for the first time. 

The years had done little to diminish a teenage boy’s crush. If anything, seeing her last night, getting to talk to her for even a brief moment, made my insides burn hotter than before. Maybe it was only a crush, an infatuation with a beautiful woman with an even more beautiful voice.

I felt Benny’s stare on me as I lazily watched my feet before me.

“You’re still in love with her.” He said it as a statement so I didn’t respond. I’d never claimed such a thing despite Benny insisting on it back in college. But he’d always been good at sensing those kinds of things.

Or at least he wasn’t afraid to say it out loud.

“I talked to her in english lit once, about you.” My head snapped up, eyes wide as he was now down to his boxer briefs, tugging up his pants. “She heard what happened to Sam.”

“Why are you bringing up Sam?” I whispered, giving him a hard glare. Benny smiled, curious since he knew not to bring him up unless I did. “Half the school offered their condolences. Of course she-”

“She didn’t. She offered…hope. Apparently her little brother went missing once too.” I turned my head away. 

“Everyone who knows anything about Y/N Y/L/N heard that story. Congrats. We both have little brothers that were kidnapped and never heard from again. Fucking awesome we can share that trauma,” I spit out. Benny leaned in close, gripping my shoulder.

“She wrote a song for her brother. Finish Line. She showed it to me long before she got famous. Look up who it’s fucking dedicated to and maybe realize there is a deeper reason why you fell in love at first sight with that girl. I have a feeling she’s the only girl in the world that could get you and you knew it long before your head did.”

I was seething, storming out of the locker room and into a trainers room next door, quickly shutting the door behind me. What the fuck was Benny thinking bringing Sam up right before a game? I could handle thinking about a girl but Sam?

I angrily typed Finish Line dedication into google, freezing at the short paragraph that appeared as the top result.

Chart topper Finish Line by Y/N Y/L/N was notoriously written by Y/L/N in her senior year of highschool after the disappearance of her younger brother, Max. Max is presumed to have been abducted while walking home from a friends house. The music video of Finish Line states the song is “For Max & Sam” although Y/L/N has never stated who Sam is. Fans theorize “Sam” is a representation of all abduction victims however…

I immediately tapped on the youtube video of the song, scrolling all the way to the end, bottom lip wobbling as I read the stark white letters against the black background.

She never gave me the time of day back then yet she knew who I was, what it felt like to have a piece of you go missing and you couldn’t do anything about it. She put my baby brother in a song for her baby brother and we weren’t even friends.

I swallowed thickly, forcing myself to calm down. 

“Sammy,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Is this a sign or something? Is she as fucked up as I am and the world doesn’t know it? Is that why she’s never been seen with a boyfriend her whole career? Did she shy away from connections when I buried myself in meaningless ones? Are we both so screwed up on the biggest stage in the world and that’s why I still feel breathless when I see her? Tell me I’m not crazy, Sammy. Tell me there’s a reason I’m still head over heels for this girl.”

I slowly opened my eyelids, staring at coach who was staring back at me on the other side of the room by the far entrance. I quickly cleared my throat and turned to leave, coach’s whistle stopping me in my tracks.

“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about son, but my advice as someone who’s been married longer than you’ve been alive…you know when you fall in love. That’s the easy part. Admitting it and trying to get the balls to say it to her face is the harder part.”

“Sir, she doesn’t even know I exist. Or barely knows I do,” I said quietly. “I should-”

“Your little brother, god rest his soul, wants you to be happy, Winchester. So shoot your shot with this girl so you can stop having an existential crisis before my home opener, got it?” I glanced over my shoulder, coach’s face surprisingly soft for how close we were to game time. “She must be special to tame you.”

“She had me the whole time. The rest were me trying to forget.” He nodded, picking up his playbook again.

“Then go get this girl so you have your answer,” he said. “And stay out of my training room before games. Only place they can’t find me.”

“Yes sir.” I ducked back into the locker room, Benny gave me a raised eyebrow, silently asking if I was okay. I nodded and sat down to tie up my shoes, an idea sparking in my mind before I opened instagram. “Ben, take a picture of me.”

“Good god,” groaned Michael from my other side. “Like your insta doesn’t have enough shirtless selfies.”

He snagged my phone out of my hands, sighing as he took a photo of me smirking in my cubby.

“I regret being your friend,” he said, handing it back to me while Benny chuckled. 

“Same, Michael,” I smiled back before I was on insta and typing furiously. I posted before I could stop myself, Benny and Michael sharing a look and immediately going to their own phones. But they weren’t fast enough apparently.

“Winchester are you serious?” shouted Gabe from across the room, the whole team looking at their phones now.

“Yup,” I said, standing and tugging on my under armor v-neck, my shoulder pads and then my jersey. 

“You can’t force a girl to go out with you!” he shouted. 

“I’m not forcing. I’m offering a donation to her charity if she does feel inclined to go out with me,” I said with a shrug. Benny grabbed my shoulders, looking at me like I was crazy.

“Five million dollars? That’s not what I mean when I said impress her you idiot!” he said.

“That’s what the picture was for,” I said with a wink, my phone already buzzing non-stop at the incoming flood of texts and calls. “You think she’ll take me up on my offer?”

“This fucker’s really about to get a fucking date with Y/N Y/L/N through a fucking bribe,” said Michael, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re crushing so hard it’s in psycho territory.”

“One date is all I want,” I said, smiling when coach walked in, rolling his eyes at me. “Come on boys, time to focus on the game!”

Y/N POV

I was currently hiding in my bedroom, reading a book on Sunday evening, Eric doing his best to get my agent and manager and PR head out of the house without force. As expected, they’d reemed my ass out for not capitalizing on the Dean Winchester picture in the moment but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about hanging out with pretty fuck boys for publicity’s sake.

But I had followed him on my private account no one knew about. It’d taken a moment but I remembered who Dean Winchester was in our college days. He was flirty back then I remembered. And a good football player I guess. But I just remembered what happened in the spring semester, how the whole campus knew his pain before he had a chance to even process it.

My heart ached for a boy I’d said nothing more than a passing hello to at parties. 

I still felt that ache whenever I sang Finish Line. I’d never realized Dean went on to his own version of fame all those years ago. But I knew the hurt still existed in his heart. There was no healing it but some part of me wished I could soothe it for a moment. I forgot in the music sometimes. Maybe he could do the same when he played his games.

Maybe I really should have talked to him last night.

My phone buzzed and I saw a new post, this one of him making my jaw drop. “Hot damn you are good looking, Winchester.”

Then I shrieked when I looked at the caption.

DWinchester67 Hey @Y/NY/L/N it was fun running into you last night. How about you take me up on my offer and let me buy dinner for our first date? 

Oh and to sweeten the deal, I’ll donate five million dollars to your charity if you say yes (plus another million for each touchdown I throw tonight, those are freebies for ya). 

You got my number so waiting on you sweetheart. ;)

Eric was in the room before I could raise my head, eyes darting around the room before he determined there was no threat. 

“Jesus, girl. I swear if you saw a bug-”

“Dean Winchester asked me out. Publicly.” Eric narrowed his eyes as he tucked his gun back into the holster. 

“Okay…you made it clear to the team today you don’t want anything to do with a publicity stunt. What’s the problem?” You tossed the phone to the end of the bed, Eric sitting on the bench at the bottom to pick it up. He did a double take, eyes skirting to meet yours. “I’m doing a full background check on this man. He either really wants in your pants, to profit off you or he’s obsessive. To be honest, I don’t like any of those options.”

“Me either but five million dollars to the charity? Plus more? That could help kids, Eric. We could find a safe way to do this, right?” He pursed his lips, nodding once.

“One date at a place of my choosing. My team will be there in the background and I’m going to talk to this boy and let him know all of the ways I can kill him if he tries anything.” You smiled, Eric handing the phone back. 

“You’d kill your favorite football player for me. You’re too sweet Eric,” you chuckled. He stood up, adjusting his sports blazer.

“You know why I stuck with you when my agency assigned me to the Princess?” he asked, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “You always listened to me. You didn’t always agree but you listened and we could have conversations. We could have conversations about safety without you acting like a brat or me like an asshole. You respected me and that earned you loyalty all these years later.”

You stared your hands in your lap. “My parents lost one child. I don’t want them to lose another.”

You were surprised to find him come closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, turning to face you. He tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling softly. 

“Don’t lose hope now, kiddo. I’ve always admired that about you.” You looked away, Eric stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Someday we’ll find the truth. I promise.”

“My mom wishes it were me,” you said, shaking your head. “If I didn’t make my parents so much money I’d think they’d be plenty happy to let some crazy fan take me away forever. All because I was five minutes late to pick up Max and he decided to walk home.”

“Hey!” Eric gripped your shoulders hard, hard enough that you felt the strength of his hands down in your bones. He was always so gentle you with guiding touches here and there you often forgot he was as deadly with his hands as he was a weapon. 

You met his gaze, Eric sighing.

“That is not true and you know it.” His stern expression softened when you shook your head.

“She told me the day we had a funeral for him Max should have been there and I should have been the one missing. So I know, Eric.” He pulled you into a hug, letting you squeeze him tight.

“I know she did,” he whispered, your chin resting on his shoulder. “She has so many regrets from that time and knows what she said broke something with the two of you. But I have had countless conversations with them over the years. I know you trust me so trust me when I say, you are their world and it would destroy them to lose you. She always asks me if you’re happy because she says you put on your fake smile for her. She doesn’t blame you one bit for it.”

“I hate when you have points,” you said, closing your eyes, getting another squeeze from him. 

“Happy to help my buddy. So you don’t give up on Max yet, alright? Everyone else has. If he’s out there, he needs you to keep going for him.”

“No wonder your team adores you. Soft cuddly bear under all the threats of violence aren’t you?”

“It’s how I land so many chicks,” he chuckled. He kissed your temple and stood, cracking his back. “Respond back yes if you want to. Let me look into this Dean Winchester before you agree to anything else though.”

You hummed, clearing your throat when Eric was in the doorframe. “I-I do remember one thing about Dean in college. He had a younger brother Sam that went missing too. Never found him.”

Eric kept his back to you for a beat, nodding once. 

“Do you think Dean is a bad guy?”

“Gut check says no. Probably just wants a hookup,” he said before stepping out and pulling the door shut fast behind him. “Rowan, I swear to god you bother this girl tonight and I’ll shove my glock up your ass.”

“He asked her out! I need to talk to her!” he yelled back on the other side of the door. You sighed and put on your noise canceling headphones before going to instagram and tapping on his post. 

Y/NY/L/N @DWinchester67 One date. As friends Winchester

Not five seconds later you received a winking emoji and “friends” in response. 

“Dear god, you’re going to be a handful, Winchester.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[sophaeros]

arctic monkeys for q magazine, june 2011 (x) (x)

ARCTIC MONKEYS: Inside Alex Turner's Head

Words Sylvia Patterson Portrait John Wright

The day Arctic Monkeys moved into their six bedroom, Spanish-style villa in the Hollywood Hills, where the first-floor balcony looked over the patio swimming pool, they knew exactly what to do.

"From the balcony, you could get on t'roof and jump in't pool," chirps the Monkeys' most gregarious member, drummer Matt Helders, in his homely Yorkshire way. "We looked at it and said, That's definitely gonna happen. So by the end, we did a couple of 'em. Somersaults in t'pool, from the roof. At night time."

In January 2011, as Sheffield and the rest of Britain endured its bitterest winter in a century, Arctic Monkeys capered among the palm trees, eschewing hotels for a millionaire's Hollywood homestead as they recorded and mixed their fourth studio album, Suck It and See.

The four Monkeys, alongside producer James Ford and engineer James Brown, lived what they called the "American man thing": watched Super Bowl on giant TVs, played ping-pong, hired two Mustangs, cooked cartoon Tom And Jerry-sized steaks on barbecues on Sundays, had girlfriends over to visit, all cooking and drinking around the colossal outdoor kitchen area featuring a fridge and two dishwashers. Living atop the Hills, they could see the Pacific Ocean beyond by day, the infinite glittering lights of downtown LA by night.

Every day, en route to Sound City Studios, they'd travel in a seven-seater four-by-four through the mountains, via bohemian 60s enclave Laurel Canyon, blaring out the tunes: The Stones Roses, The Cramps, the Misfits' Hollywood Babylon. For the sometime teenage art-punk renegades whose guitarist, Jamie Cook, was once ejected from London's Met Bar for refusing to pay €22 for two beers, the comedy rock'n'roll life still feels, however, absolutely nothing like reality.

NICK O'MALLEY: "It were really as if we were on holiday. When we came back it's the most post-holiday blues I've ever had!"

JAMIE COOK: "It's hard to comment on that. It were just really good fun."

MATT HELDERS: "We always said, As soon as things like that feel normal, we're in trouble. But it's just funny. You might think it would get more and more serious as you get older but it's getting funnier. We've done four albums now and I'm still only 24, I'm still immature to an extent. So who cares?"

Alex? Al? Are you there?

ALEX TURNER: "Yeah, it were good times. But we were in the studio most of the time. So there's no real wild Hollywood stories. Hmn. Yeah."

Wednesday, 16 March 2011, Strongroom Bar, Shoreditch, East London, 11am. Alex Turner, 25, slips entirely alone into an empty art-crowd brasserie looking like an indie girl's indie dream boy: mop-top bouffant hair which coils, in curlicues, directly into his cheekbones, army-green waist-length jacket, baggy-arsed skinny jeans, black cord zip-up cardigan, simple gold chain, supermoon sized chocolate-brown eyes.

Almost six years after I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor became the indie-punk anthem of a generation (from the first of Arctic Monkeys' three Number 1 albums), and nothing prepares you for the curious phenomenon of Alex Turner "in conversation". Unlike so many of the Monkeys frenetic early songs, he operates in slow motion, seemingly underwater, carrying a protective shell on his back, perhaps indie rock's very own diamond-backed terrapin. The most celebrated young wordsmith in rock'n roll today talks fulsomely, in fact, only in shapeless, curling sentences punctuated with "maybe... hmn.. yeah", an anecdotal wilderness sketching pictures as vague as a cloud. He is, though, simultaneously adorable: amenable, gentle, graceful, and as Northern as a 70s grandpa who literally greets you with "ey oop?".

"People think I'm a miserable bastard," he notes, cheerfully, "but it's just the way me face falls." Still profoundly private, if not as hermetically sealed as a vacuum-packed length of Frankfurter, his fante-shy reticence extends not only to his personal life (his four-year relationship with It-girl/TV presenter Alexa Chung, whom he never mentions) but to insider details generally. Take the Monkeys’ Hollywood high jinks documented above: not one word of it was described by Turner. Before Q was informed by his other Monkey bandmates, Turner’s anecdotal aversion unfolded like this:

Describe the lovely villa you were in. AT: "Well... we certainly had a... good view."

Of what? AT: "Well, we were up quite high."

The downtown LA lights going on forever? AT: "I dunno. It was definitely that thing of getting a bit of sort of sunshine. Is it vitamin D? If you can get vitamin D on your record, you've got a bit of a head start. So we'd get up and drive to the studio."

What were you driving? AT: "Nothing... spectacular. But yeah, we'd drive up the studio, spend all day there and sort of, y know, get back. To be honest... we had limited time. So we spent as much time as possible kind of getting into it, like, in the studio.

So your favourite adventures were what? AT: "Well, they were really… minimal. We were working out there!"

Any nightclubs or anything, perhaps? AT: "You really want the goss 'ere, don't you?"

Yes, please. AT: "I could make some up. Nah!"

And this was on the second time of asking. It's perhaps obvious: Alex Turner, one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation (four Monkeys albums and two EPs in five years, The Last Shadow Puppets side-project, a bewitching acoustic soundtrack for his actor/video director friend Richard Ayoade's feature-length debut Submarine), is dedicated only to the cause – of being the best he can possibly be. He simply remembers the songs much more than the somersaults.

Throughout 2009, Arctic Monkeys toured third album Humbug – the record mostly made in the Californian desert with Queens Of The Stone Age man-monolith Josh Homme – across the planet. While hardly some cranium-blistering opus, its heavier sonic meanderings considerably slowed the Arctic Monkeys' live sets and on 23 August 2009, Q watched them headline the Lowlands Festival, Holland and witnessed a hitherto unthinkable sight – swathes of perplexed Monkeys fans trudging away from the stage. With the sludge rock mood matching their cascading dude-rock hair it seemed obvious: they'd smoked way too much outrageously strong weed in the desert.

"Heheheh, yeah," responds Turner, unperturbed. "That's your theory. You probably weren't alone."

Back in the Strongroom Bar, Turner's arm is now nonchalantly draped along the back of a beaten-up brown leather sofa. He ponders his band's somewhat contrary reputation…

"I think starting the headline set at Reading with a cover of a Nick Cave tune perhaps was a bit contrary. D'youknowhat Imean?! But to be honest, that summer, at those festivals, we had a great time. And I know some fans enjoyed those sets 10 times more. And you can't just do, y’know, another Mardy Bum or whatever. Because how could you, really?"

With Humbug, notes Turner, "I went into corners I hadn't before, because I needed to see what were there," but by spring 2010 he wanted their fourth album to be "more song-based" and less lyrically "removed". He was "organised this time", studied "the good songwriters" (from Nick Cave, The Byrds and Leonard Cohen to country colossi Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline), discovered "the other three strings" on his guitar, and wrote 12 songs through the spring and summer of 2010, mostly in the fourth-floor New York flat he shared with Chung before the couple moved back to London late last summer (the New York MTV show It's On With Alexa Chung was cancelled after two seasons). The result: major-key melodies, harmonised singing and classic song structures.

At the same time he revisited the opposite extreme: bands such as Black Sabbath and The Stooges ("we wanted a few wig-outs as well"); he was also still heavily influenced by the oil-thick grinder rock of Josh Homme, who is clearly now a permanent Monkeys hero. After four months' rehearsals in London, on 8 January the Monkeys relocated to LA for five swift weeks of production and Homme came to visit, singing backing vocals on All My Own Stunts. Tequila was involved.

"Tequila is probably me favourite," manages Turner, by way of an anecdote. "But it takes a certain climate... It's not the same... in the rain. Yeah. [Looks to be contemplating a lyric] Tequila in the rain."

Vocally, he developed the caramel richness first unveiled on The Last Shadow Puppets' Scott Walker-esque The Age Of The Understatement, finding a crooner's vibrato. "Everything before was so tight,” he notes, clutching his neck. "Probably just through nerves. That's just not there any more." Suck It and See contains at least four of the most glittering, sing-along, world-class pop songs (and obvious singles) of Arctic Monkeys' career: the towering, clanging She's Thunderstorms, the summertime stunner The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala, the heavenly harmonised title track and the Echo & The Bunnymen-esque jangly pop of closer That's Where You're Wrong.

Elsewhere, in typically contrary "fashion", there's preposterous head-banger bedlam (Brick By Brick, the rollicking faux-heavy rock download they released in March "just for fun", featuring vocals by Helders; Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair, and Library Pictures). News arrives that the first single proper will be Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair. Q is perplexed. Brilliantly titled, certainly, but arriving after Brick By Brick, the new album will appear to the planet as some comedy pastiche metal album for 12-year-old boys.

You've got all these colossal, summery, indie-pop classics and you've gone for... The Chair? AT: [Laughing uproariously] "The Chair! I'm now calling it The Chair, that's cool. Well for once it weren't even our suggestion. It was Laurence's (Bell, Domino label boss). And I were, Fucking too right! He's awesome. It'd be good to get a bit of fucking rock'n'roll out there, won't it? It's riffs. It's loud. It's funny."

If you don't release The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala as a single I'm going round Domino to kick Laurence's "awesome" butt. AT: "I think it'll be the next one!"

The record's title, meanwhile, could've been more enigmatically original than the un-loved phrase Suck It and See. The band, struggling with ideas due to the opposing sonic moods, invented an inspiration-conjuring ruse: to think of new names for effects pedals in the style of Tom Wolfe, Turner being long enamoured with the American author's legendarily psychedelic books The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby, "cos that just sounds awesome".

"There's the Big Muff pedal," he elaborates, "That’s the classic. I've got the Valve Slapper. And there's the Tube Screamer. So we came up with the Thunder Suckle Fuzz Canyon. And… wait till I assemble it in me mind… em… it'll come to me… The Blonde-O-Sonic Shimmer Trap. So we were going for summat like that."

A wasted opportunity?

"Nah. Because some of those things ended up in the lyrics anyway. Suck It and See was just easier."

Alex Turner, rock'n'roll's premier descriptive art-poet, still writes his lyrics long-hand in spiral-bound notebooks. "Writing lyrics is a craft that I've practised a bit now," he avers. "In me notebook it looks like sums. Theories. There's words and arrows going everywhere. There's always a few possibilities and I write the word 'OR' in a square."

For our most celebrated colloquial sketch-writer of the everyday observation (all betting pencils, boy slags and ice-cream van aggravations) the more successful he becomes, the less he orbits the ordinary. "I'm not struggling with that, to be honest," he decides. "In fact I'm enjoying writing lyrics much more than I did. Stories. Describing a picture. Um. There's quite a bit of weather and time in this one. Which is probably not reassuring. 'Oh God, he's writing about the weather.' Maybe leave that out!"

There are also some direct, funny, romantic observations: "That's not a skirt, girl, that's a sawn-off shotgun/And I only hope you've got it aimed at me..." (from the title track).

Some of your romantic quips, now, must be about Alexa. AT: "Right. Yeah. Definitely. Well... there's always been that side to our songs, when we weren't writing about... the fucking taxi rank. It's kind of inevitably... people you're with." [At the mention of Chung's name, Turner is visibly aggrieved, head sliding into his neck, terrapin-esque indeed.]

It must have been very grounding being in a proper relationship through all this madness. Because if you weren't, girls would be jumping all over your head. AT: "Em. Hmn. Well, of course that helps you to... I don't really know.. what the other way would be."

Does Alexa wonder if the lyrics are about her? AT: "Oh there's none of that. Yeah, no, there's no looking over the shoulder."

She must be curious, at least. "Maybe."

Did you ever watch Popworld? AT: [Nervous laughter] "Em! Now and again."

Did you ever see the episode where she helps Paul McCartney write a song about shoes? AT: "Ah, yeah I think so, maybe I did see that."

Well, if I was you, I'd have been thinking, "She's the one for me." AT: "Well. Yeah... maybe that would've... sealed the deal! Hmn. But maybe that wasn't when i got the ray of light. When was? Nah [buries head in hands]. I might have to go for a cigarette..."

Q can't torture him any more and joins him for a snout. Turner smokes Camels from a crumpled, sad, soft-pack and resembles a teenager again. As early song You Probably Couldn't See For The Lights But You Were Staring Straight At Me says, "Never tenser/Could all go a bit Frank Spencer…”

In January 2006, when Arctic Monkeys' Number 1 album Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not became the fastest-selling debut in UK history, inadvertently redefining the concept of autonomy and further imploding the decimated music industry (& wasn't their idea to be "the MySpace band", it was their fans': the Monkeys merely kick-started viral marketing by giving away demos at gigs), the 19- and 20-year-old Monkeys were terrible at fame. They weren't so much insurrectionary teenage upstarts as teenage innocents culturally traumatised by the peak-era fame democracy.

To their generation (born in the mid-'80s) fame was now synonymous with some-twat-off-the-telly a world of foaming tabloid hysteria where renown and celebrity meant, in fact, you were talentless. Hence their interview diffidence and receiving awards via videos dressed up as the Wizard OfOz and the Village People. Which only, ironically, made them even more celebrated and famous. (“That were a product of us just trying to hold onto the reins," thinks Turner today. "Being uncooperative.")

Q meets The Other Three one morning at 11am, in the well-appointed, empty bar of the Bethnal Green, Bast London hotel they're staying in (all three live in Sheffield, with their girlfriends, in their own homes). First to arrive is the industrious, sensible and cheerful Helders, crunching into a hangover-curing green apple. He has recovered from last year's boxing accident at the gym, which left his broken arm requiring a fitted plate. Now impressively purple-scarred, the break felt "interesting" and the doctor couldn't resist the one-armed drummer jest: "D'you like Def Leppard?"

Currently enjoying an enduring bromance with Diddy, he still doesn't feel famous, "it just doesn't feel that real, there's no paparazzi waiting for me to trip up." He and Turner, during the four-month rehearsals last year, became an accomplished roast dinner cooking duo for the band. "I reckon we could have us our own cookbook," he beams. "Pictures of us stirring, with a whisk."

O'Malley, an agreeable, twinkly-eyed 25-year-old with a strikingly deep voice and a winningly huge smile, is still coyly embarrassed by the interview process. A replacement for the departed original bass player Andy Nicholson in May 2006, he went from Asda shelf-filler to Glastonbury headliner in 13 months and still finds the Monkeys "a massive adventure". His life in Sheffield is profoundly normal – he's delighted that his new home since last October has an open-hearth fireplace: "Me parents had electric bars." He has also discovered cooking. “I’m just a pretty shit-hot housewife, most of the time," he smiles. "I cook stews, fish combinations, curries, chillies. I made a beef pho noodle soup the other day, Vietnamese, I surprised meself, had some mates round for that."

Recently, at his dad's 50th birthday bash, the party band, made up of family and friends, insisted he join them onstage "for ...The Dancefloor. So I were up there [mimes playing bass, all sheepish] and it were the wrong pitch, they didn't know the words or 'owt, going, Makin eyes... er..." He has no extra-curricular musical ambitions. "I'm happy just playing bass," he smiles. "I've never had the skill of doing songs meself. It'd be shit!"

Cook, 25, is still spectacularly embarrassed by the interview process. He perches upright, with a fixed nervous smile, newly shorn of the beard and ponytail he sported in LA: "Rockin' a pone, yeah, because I could get away with it." With his classic preppy haircut and dapper green military coat (from London's swish department store, Liberty), he looks like a handsome '40s film star. (Turner deems Cook "the band heartbreaker" and had a word with him post-LA: "I said to him, Come on, mate, you've got to get that beard shaved off. Get the girls back into us. Shift some posters.")

His life in Sheffield is also profoundly normal. He still plays Sunday League football with his local pub team, The Pack Horse FC (position, left back), remains in his long-term relationship with page-three-model-turned-make-up-artist Katie Downes and "potters about" at home, refusing to describe said home, "cos I'll get burgled".

A tiler by trade, he always vowed, should the Monkeys sign a deal, that he'd throw his trowel in a Sheffield river on his last day of work. "I never did fling me trowel," he confirms. "Probably still in me shed." He's never considered what his band represents to his generation. "I'd go insane thinking about it, I'm pretty good at not thinking about it… Oh God. I'm terrible at this!"

Back in the Strongroom Bar, Alex Turner is cloudily describing his everyday life. "I just keep meself to meself," he confounds. He mostly stays indoors and his perfect night in with Alexa is "watching loads of Sopranos. And doing roast dinners".

No longer spindle-limbed, he attends a gym and has handsomely well-defined arms – "You have to look after yourself."

Suddenly, Crying Lightning from Humbug rumbles over the bar stereo. "Wow. How about that? I was quite happy the other morning cos Brick By Brick were on the round-up goals on Soccer AM. It's still exciting when that happens. It was like Brick By Brick is real."

He spends his days writing music, "listening to records", and recommends Blues Run The Game by doomed '60s minstrel Jackson C Frank ("who's that lass?... Laura Marling, she did a cover recently), a simple, acoustic, deep and regretful stunner about missing someone on the road.

Lyrically, he cites as an example of greatness the Nick Cave B-side Little Empty Boat [from ‘97 single Into My Arms ], a comically sinister paean to a sexual power struggle: "Your knowledge is impressive and your argument is good/But I am the resurrection babe and you're standing on my foot."

"I need a hobby," he suddenly decides. "I'd like to learn another language." Since his mum is a German teacher (his dad teaches music), surely he can speak some German? "I know how to ask somebody if they've had fun at Christmas." Go on, then. "Nah!"

Where Turner's creative gifts stem from remains a contemporary rock'n'roll mystery; he became a fledgling songwriter at 16, after the gift of a guitar at Christmas from his parents. An only child, did his folks, perhaps, foresee artistic greatness? "I doubt it!" he balks. "Cos I didn't. I wasn't... a show kid." Like the others, he doesn't analyse the past, or the future.

"You can't constantly be thinking about what's happened," he reasons, "it's just about getting on with it." The elaborate pinky ring he now constantly wears, however, a silver, gold and ruby metal-goth corker featuring the words DEATH RAMPS is a permanent reminder of he and his best friends’ past. The Death Ramps is not only a Monkeys pseudonym and B-side to Teddy Picker, but a place they used to ride their bikes in Sheffield as kids.

"Up in the woods near where we lived," he nods. "Just little hills. But when you're eight years old they're death ramps." The ring was custom made by a friend of his, who runs top-end rock'n'roll jewellery emporium The Great Frog near London's Carnaby Street. Ask Turner why he thinks the chase between his writing and speaking eloquence is quite so mesmerisingly vast and he attempts a theory.

"Well, writing isn't the same as speaking," he muses. "Not for me. I seem to struggle more and more with... conversation. Talking onstage... I can't do it any more. Hmn. I'll have to work on that."

The ever-helpful Helders has a better theory.

"Since he's been writing songs," he ponders, “It seems like he’s always thinking about that. So even when he’s talking to you now, he’s thinking about the next thing that rhymes with a word. Even when he’s driving. We joke he’s a bad driver, his focus is never 100 per cent on what he’s doing. Which is good for us cos it means he’s got another 12 songs up his sleeve. I think music must be the easiest way for him to be concise and get everything out. Otherwise his head would explode.”

The Shoreditch.com photo studios, 18 March. Alex Turner, today, is more ethereally distracted than ever, transfixed by the studio iPod, playing Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, a version of I’d Rather Go Blind. Occasionally, he’ll completely lose his conversational thread, “Um. I’ve dropped a stitch.”

The first to arrive for Q’s photoshoot, he greets his incoming bandmates with enormous hugs (and also hugs them goodbye). Today, Q feels it’s pointless poking its pickaxe of serious enquiry further into Turner’s vacuum-packed soul and wonders if he’ll play, instead, a daft game. It’s called Popworld Questions, as first posed by someone he knows rather well.

“Oh, OK. Let’s do it,” he blinks, now perched in an empty dressing room. He then vigorously shakes his head, “Um…I’ve gotta snap back into it.”

Here, then, are some genuine “Alexa Chung on Popworld” questions (2006-2007), as originally posed to Matt Willis, Amy Winehouse, Robbie Williams, Pussycat Dolls, Kaiser Chiefs and Diddy.

Why do indie bands wear such tight jeans? AT: “Um. I supposed they do. They haven’t always. When we first were playing I was definitely in flares. You need to be quite tall to get the full effect, though. So, that's why this indie band wears such tight jeans, cos we've not got the legs for flares."

What makes you tick in the sexy department? AT: "Wow. Pass. What do I find most attractive in a woman? Something in the head? That's definitely a requirement. Well... Hmn. I'm struggling."

Tell us about all the lovely groupies. AT: "No!"

If dogs had human hands instead of paws, would you consider trying to teach them to play the piano? AT: "Absolutely. I'd teach Hey Jude."

How many plums d'you think you can comfortably fit in one hand? AT: "They're not very big. [Holds small, pale, girly hand up for inspection] It's a shame. Probably three. Diddy only managed two? Maybe not then. I can carry a lot of glasses at once, though. If they're small ones I can do four."

Are you cool? AT: "Not as much as I'd like to be. There's this clip where Clint Eastwood is on a talkshow and he gets asked, Everybody thinks of you as defining cool, what d'you think about that? And he gets his cigs out, takes one out, flicks it into his mouth, lights it and says, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Here, Turner locates his Camels soft-pack and attempts to do a Clint Eastwood. He flicks one upwards towards his mouth. And misses. Flicks another. And misses. "Third time lucky?" He misses. "I'll get it the next time." And succeeds. "Hey. Fourth time. Don't put that in! So there you go. I'm four steps away from where I wanna be."

Thank you very much for joining me here on Popworld, here's my clammy hand again. There it is, let it slip, hmmn. You can let go now. AT: "OK! Were you a Popworld fan, then? It was funny. Cool. What were we talking about, before?"

Blimey, Alex. What must you be like when you're completely stoned out of your head? AT: "Stoned? What d'you mean, cos I seem like that anyway? Yeah. A lot of people... tell me I'm a bit... dreamy. But I like the idea of that. Of being somewhere else."

Two days earlier, Turner had contemplated what he wanted from all this, in the end. Many seconds later he gave his deceptively ambitious answer.

"I just wanna write better songs," he decided. "And better lyrics. I just definitely wanna be good at it. Hmn. Yeah.”

—

RUFUS BLACK: AKA Matt Helders, on his ongoing bromance with Diddy

Matt Helders has known preposterous rap titan Diddy since they met in Miami in 2008. “He goes, Arctic Monkeys! Then he said summat about a B-side and I was like, He's not lying! I just thought, This is funny, I'm gonna go with this for a while." Last October Diddy texted Helders, suggesting he play drums with his Diddy Dirty Money band on Friday Night With Jonathan Ross, to give his own drummer a day off. “I were bowling with me girifriend at the time. In Sheffield, on a Sunday." On the day of recording, says Helder, "We had a musical director. That were one of the maddest times of my life. Next day Diddy said, Why don't you just stay? Come along with me. So I went everywhere with him." Diddy had "a convoy of cars" and made sure Helders was always in his. "He'd stop his car and go, Where's Matt? You're coming with me! So I'd get in his car. Just me, him, his security, driver." Diddy, by now, had given him a pseudonym - Rufus Black. "He kept saying, I don't wanna fuck up your image. And I'm, I don't think it's gonna do me any harm!" He stayed in Diddy's spectacularly expensive hotel. Some weeks later, Helders almost returned to the Dirty Money drumstool for a gig in Glasgow. "But we were rehearsing in London. I were like, I might come, how are you getting there? And he were like, Jet. Jump on t’jet with me. But I had to stay in Bethnal Green instead.”

Love’s young dream: Diddy (left) with Helders

[penny00dreadful]

Somebody To Love - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

Like most things in life, trying to make something appear sexy on camera was decidedly very unsexy in practice. Case in point, the repeated motions of trying to look sultry and brooding and sexy in front of a camera and crew that just made him feel goofy.

Steve slapped Eddie’s hand away from his face.

“Stop fiddling with it.”

“It’s irritating!”

“Because you won’t let it dry!”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, continuing to pace up and down the makeup room.

It had been weeks since that hookup with Julian and their tour had finally ended. Eddie had tried to see what Julian had seen, what he'd seen the following morning, he really had tried but he could never find it. Steve looked at him like he’d always looked at him.

He still bitched Eddie out whenever he got too fucked up, he still snatched up his drugs when he thought he was getting in too deep and flushed them down the toilet like an asshole and still dragged him out of bed, unceremoniously dumped him into a hotel shower and hosed him down without mercy whenever he needed sobering up to appear in public.

Because that was Steve’s job. And not only was it is job, Steve was a good friend. A great friend even. To the point that they often forgot they had an employer/employee relationship. Steve could quit tomorrow and Eddie was pretty sure they’d still be hanging out on the weekends or travelling back to Indiana in the summer for the Hoppers-Byers barbecues. Steve would still call to check in on Wayne whenever Eddie was too busy or fucked up to get the chance.

Because he was a good friend. One of his closest confidants. Because yeah, Steve did love him as a friend. And Eddie loved Steve as a friend.

Eddie brought his hand up to his face again, already forgetting he wasn’t supposed to touch which only led to another sharp slap. There was fake blood trickling out of his mouth and smeared across his jaw but it was fucking tickly and irritating the ever loving shit out of him, only adding to his heightened anxiety.

They still had a whole day of shooting left to do but they’d gotten most of the fully clothed dark and brooding closeup B-roll of the band done. Draped over thrones or hiding in the shadows of alleyways with a fog machine in the corner or playing their various instruments in the middle of a graveyard that smelled like styrofoam and the kind of dust that always clung to studio lights. 

They were shooting the music video for their newest single ‘Sucker’, a song about sucking blood which was an extremely thinly veiled metaphor for going down and the latest in a long list of filthy songs he and the boys had penned over the years.

The concept for the music video was a whole Victorian gothic vampire blood drinking thing where each of the boys had a ‘victim’ to paw at and mouth all over and that was fine, really. They’d met their extras and the three girls that were acting against Jeff, Grant and Gareth were sweet but very professional in what they were doing which helped put the boys at ease. Because no matter how big and famous they got they were all still smalltown awkward nerds at heart. The guy they’d brought in for Eddie was slightly less professional but very, very good at acting the part of a vulnerable subby boy for Eddie’s vampire persona to suck dry.

And it hadn’t hurt that he’d slipped Eddie his number for a hookup later that night, so there was that to look forward to.

But the main centrepiece for the music video was the one that was giving him anxiety. He and the boys would share a ‘victim’ all at the same time and it was going to be very sexual and very intense. And because two out of the four members of Corroded Coffin liked women exclusively and the other two didn’t not like women, their shared victim would be a woman.

But the issue for Eddie was, they hadn’t met her. Usually with something like this, Eddie and the boys liked to meet up with the female model or actress a few days ahead of time just to make sure everyone was comfortable, there was no pressure, find out if there was anything that she wanted them to avoid doing and figure out some kind of tap out system if it was a live performance.

But their tour bus had been delayed a couple of days and they’d only barely managed to crash land back in LA with enough time to pee before they had to go shoot, let alone check in like they wanted to.

At least tonight Eddie would be able to sleep in his own bed again for the first time in months. And if the night worked out like he was hoping it would, he’d call that guy and he’d have his bed filled for once more.

“Eds, if you try to touch your face again, you won’t get your surprise.” Steve had thrown himself down on the couch behind the makeup chair, stretched out and not even looking up at him, legs crossed at the knee, one arm thrown over the back, lazily scrolling through his phone, white shirt rolled up to the elbows and the first few buttons undone. 

So like…

They may not be in love but Eddie had eyes. And Steve was a snack and a half at the worst of times so now…

Wait.

“Surprise? You have a surprise for me, love?” Eddie flapped his hands in Steve’s direction who looked as stoic and bored as he had a few seconds ago, only betrayed by the slightest curl at the corner of his mouth. “What is it? What is it?! Gimme, gimme, gimme!”

Eddie’s own black and billowing shirt that hung loosely open the whole way down, tucked into a pair of tight leather pants fluttered around him as he continued to pester Steve, the tiny clink, clink of his low hanging chains and rings only adding to the cacophony of energy building up in him.

Until a voice sounded from outside the door and Eddie froze.

“I get good grades!”

Eddie could feel his mouth drop open as Steve’s smile grew wider.

“I go to church!” The tinkling voice continued, getting closer.

“No…” Eddie whispered at him in complete disbelief. 

“I’m a cheerleader!” There, standing in the doorway, looking like the picture of Victorian innocence in a strategically low cut, sheer and flowing white sleeping gown with the biggest smile on her face was Chrissy Cunningham.

“No way!” Eddie darted forward, scooping her up into his arms and swinging her around the tiny little makeup room while she squeezed him tight, giggling into his neck. “You’re our victim?!”

“I’m your victim!” She responded, almost radiating brightness throughout the room. He hadn’t seen her since they took off on tour and she was always one of the people he missed the most. His god-damn bright bubblegum pink platonic soulmate and model extraordinaire with the acting chops to make it to the top if she ever decided to pursue it.

“How?!” He set her back down on her feet before taking her hand and twirling her, getting a good look at her costume. “God, you look so corruptible.”

“I know, right?” She batted her big eyelashes up at him. “But the girl who was supposed to play the part had to drop out so we shuffled some things around.” Chrissy gestured over at Steve whose smile had softened out into something sweeter.

“You knew about this?!” Eddie pointed an accusing black tipped finger at him. Steve just rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet.

“Of course I knew about this. I know everything. This is your surprise, dumbass.” He flicked Eddie on the ear as he passed by. “I’m gonna go get the boys!” The next second he had disappeared out the door.

Eddie scowled at the empty doorway before turning his attention back to Chrissy, pulling her down with him into Steve’s vacated spot on the couch.

“So tell me, how was the tour this time around?”

“Chris, you know how the tour was. I called you all the time.”

"No, Twinkie." Chrissy scoffed and shoved at his shoulder. “Steve called me all the time. You called me whenever you were lucid enough to use your phone or you didn’t have a dick in your mouth.”

“I still called, didn't I?!” Eddie pouted, trying to give her the biggest doe eyes he could manage. He was only able to hold it for a few seconds before another thought came to his scattered mind. “Actually there is something I wanted to talk to you about. One of the guys I hooked up with a few weeks back said something.”

“Do I have to fight him?”

Eddie smiled and patted her head, careful not to damage the bouncy blonde ‘slept in’ curly updo she’d been put in. “No babe. Nothing like that. He mentioned something about Steve.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He said that Steve was in love with me.” He shot her a bewildered look, as if to say ‘can you believe that?’ but Chrissy barely reacted.

She just continued to watch him carefully.

Which, oh Jesus, might be the most terrifying thing to ever happen to him in his life because if Chrissy was unsurprised… so unsurprised that she didn’t even move… had she seen it too?

“What-”

“Chrissy!” Jeff, Gareth and Grant burst into the room and in much the same way that Eddie had, scooped her up and swung her around with delight. The three of them had clearly been just as anxious about the coming scene as he had and were now extremely relieved to be doing it with someone they knew.

In amongst the whirlwind of greetings they were called back out to start filming again and the next time Eddie had a chance to talk to her was on set with his arms around her, pulled flush against his chest, Gareth pressed against her back with his head bent to one side of her neck and Jeff and Grant looming over either side of her with her wrists at their mouths before action was called, so… not exactly a place for private conversation. 

Eddie had to wonder if Steve had spoken to the director so he knew what to expect because by the time the five of them had broken down into giggles for the fourth time in a row, they guy wasn’t looking nearly as irritated as he should have been. 

It was a mix of all five of them being together again that made them all feel a little giddy and the fact that a very sexually charged scene was always so unsexy when it was being filmed. 

And, okay, maybe the last one was Eddie’s fault because he had to hold nasty tasting fake blood in his mouth before bringing his lips down to Chrissy’s neck, allowing it to leak out over her skin making it look like he was biting her and maybe a really badly timed giggle had caused it to spray everywhere, spattering dark red over everyone and causing the five of them to almost collapse into each other with laughter.

Once they had all managed to reign themselves in for another shot the director was watching them with his arms crossed and a contemplative look on his face.

“I’m going to be honest, I should be mad.”

“But?” Gareth asked.

“But Mr. Harrington has pointed out if we cut that shot just before it’s obvious you’re laughing, it looks like you hit an artery. There’s no way that would get past the censors for TV so he’s suggested a R-rated gore heavy version of the music video? Maybe released exclusively online?”

The five of them looked at each other for barely a second before they were all enthusiastically agreeing and volleying ideas for just how gore heavy they could go.

The director clapped his hands. “Alright! We can discuss ideas later, but we really need to get this shot done, so back on your marks and Eddie?” he pointed at him. Eddie had already had more of that fake blood tipped into his mouth (less this time, thank god, considering Chrissy was practically covered in it already) so he could only respond with a ‘mm?’

“You’re going for sultry. Give the camera a good eye-fucking this time around please?”

Eddie shot him a dorky thumbs up before sliding his arms back around Chrissy’s waist and bringing one hand up to rest in the blonde curls at the back of her head. As the director called ‘Action!’ their song was blasted through the speakers in the studio and he lowered his head.

Just as he mimed biting into Chrissy’s skin he lifted his eyes up, trying to keep his gaze as dark and wanton as possible, but just behind the camera stood Steve, looking right at him. As their eyes met, he visibly swallowed, his cheeks went pink and he bit down on his lip hard before a blank mask of nothingness slid over his face and all at once Eddie was unmoored. 

Because he recognised that face. Because he knew Steve inside and out. Or up until that very moment, he thought he did. 

Sure, it was the face Steve used in contract negotiations on Eddie’s behalf with silver spoon label executives he knew how to pander to. But it was also the face that was used when Steve wanted to keep his real feelings locked away. 

The face Eddie realised, with sudden clarity, he’d been seeing on and off for years.

Whenever Steve would have to hold his hair back over a toilet bowl or drag him by the arm out of whatever group sex situation he’d gotten himself involved in. Whenever Steve would watch from backstage, his eyes only ever following Eddie around, whenever they would invariably end up sitting closer and closer during movie nights on the couch, whenever Eddie had chosen over and over and over again to parade his choices of flings and partners in front of Steve, whenever Eddie had thrown ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’ at him, like they meant nothing. Like they couldn’t cause damage.

But they didn’t mean nothing, had they ever meant nothing?

Had they always meant everything to him?

“Cut! Fantastic!” The director cried.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @child-of-cthulhu, @sweetwaterangel, @anaibis

Chrissy's lines as she comes through the door are from But I'm A Cheerleader! An iconic lesbian comedy about a high-school cheerleader who's conservative parents send her to conversion therapy when they suspect she's a lesbian which... 👀

It's a good watch but even though it's a comedy, it's still about a heavy subject matter so just proceed with caution and keep yourselves safe. 🖤

[a-d-nox]

wyrd web: what to gift a person based these three numbers

this is just a theory of mine because these bubbles of the matrix should represent earthly desires. this is not to say that you can't enjoy things not listed in your category / under your energetic number. this is simply what i believe people with these numbers would enjoy receiving as a gift.

1 - the magician

flowers / garden seeds, gear for their passion project(s), business/self-help books, a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, art supplies, things that are homemade/artisanal, careof for brain support, things for their computer or car, a diary or journal (moleskine), sunglasses or blue-light glasses, joke books (for the dads with 1 placements here), paid classes, rosetta stone subscription, genetic tests (ancestry.com or 23&me), manicure/pedicure voucher, merchandise from their favorite singer / group / tv show / movie, mittens / fingerless gloves, house plant, sewing/knitting/crocheting supplies, stationary, or tickets to a concert

2 - the high priestess

things that support their spiritual practices, things that support feminine health (hum women's probiotics bundle, honey pot oral vaginal care probiotic, etc), bake goods / baking gear, barbecue sauce sampler / grilling gear (for the dads pt 2), bar in a jar (for those of drinking age) or really any beverage tester kit, bath/spa kit, beach vacation, boat, cruise, careof for brain support, truly nice melons boob butter, candles (it doesn't have to be yankee candle either - bent candles, spiced votive candle, etc) or candle making kit, imported cheeses, clothing staples (blue jeans, black turtleneck, etc), juice cleanse or other things that support digestive health, cooking classes or meal kits (hellofresh, homechef, etc), a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, or outdoor cameras or other home security tools

3 - the empress

pillows, stuffed animals, rose quartz, personal celebrity cameo, clothing, tickets for an art museum tour, ballet tickets or classes, art supplies, makeup pallets and/or brushes, flowers, jewelry, candy/sweets, money, bells / wind chimes, clothing, designer pieces, cosmetics, dolls, a trip to a fancy restaurant, fruit basket / dried fruits, gardening supplies, jewelry, concert/orchestra tickets, poetry book, tickets to a play, a purse, lingerie (if y'all are close like that), trip to a vineyard (for those of drinking age), couples' dancing classes, or a wallet

4 - the emperor

skincare, rock climbing voucher or some other physical activity they enjoy, an adrenaline rush activity (skydiving, bungee jumping, etc), careof for brain support, crafted wooden objects (cutting boards, tables, etc), coffee trials/samplers, sunglasses, blue light glasses, hair care products/supplies, scalp treatments/care, oral health care (thera breath, whitening products, etc), meditation app subscriptions / in person sessions for meditation, or a planner

5 - the hierophant

moss agate (don't question how random that sounds this is some intuitive stuff), artwork, an architectural tour, beauty products/supplies, historically significant objects, pastries or sweets/candies, earrings, sour dough starter kit, jewelry in general, piano/organ lessons, singing lessons, a wallet, or any classes where they can learn something fun and new to them

6 - the lovers

car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), bicycle or bicycle accessories/gear, books (the more educational the better), briefcase / work tote, bus tickets for a day trip, gym membership or soulcycle classes, crystals, a standing desk / cute office supplies (for the work girlies both those who work in office and from home), hand & foot message, manicure voucher, newspaper subscription (i am a fan of new york times, washington post, and the new yorker), language classes or rosetta stone subscription, magazines subscription, merchandise from their favorite singer / group / tv show / movie, train trip, or we're not really strangers card packs

7 - the chariot

gardening supplies, hermit crab, baked goods, bath products / beauty products, boat, cruise, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), truly nice melons boob butter, juice cleanse, gut health thrive market kit, glassware / blown glass, stuff they need / need for their home (security system, chest freezer, etc), hotel or bed & breakfast stay, kitchenware, lake trip, pearls, real estate / land, restaurant voucher / gift card, silver jewelry, shopping gift cards, a trip, or intention journal

8 - strength

amusement park tickets, supplies for their passion projects, ballroom dancing classes, tea sampler, games (video games or board games), movie theater gift card, personal celebrity cameo, flower garden supplies/seeds, stuff for their pet, or a belt

9 - the hermit

pet related gifts (if they have a pet that is), bookshelves (they probably need one), juice cleanse, gut health thrive market kit, a cat, clothing, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), stationary, emergency preparedness (ready to eat meals, fire blanket, etc), cook books, dining ware (new plates/bowls, cups / glassware, silverware, etc), food subscriptions (home chef, hello fresh, pickle of the month club, bokksu japanese snack box, etc), careof subscription, gloves, herb garden kit, a one way ticket to anywhere, or a hiking trip

10 - wheel of fortune

incense, cleansing herbs, bow and arrow, sapling, land, dried berries, budget book, gym/exercise membership, religious/spiritual/philosophical books, poker set, cloth (if they like sowing), wool (if they like weaving, crocheting, and/or knitting), wool clothing, a coat, trip to a country or place they have never been, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), etiquette classes/books (this is great for the traveler because they are often interested in learning customs before going on their trip), figs, fruit basket (like edible arrangements), honey sampler / royal jelly, horseback riding lessons, lottery tickets, merchandise from their favorite singer / group/ tv show / movie, shoes, really any game, any subscription they have not tried, things that support their spiritual practices, or book on positive mindset

11 - justice

personal celebrity cameo, tickets to a ballet or to an art gallery, air purifier, portable heating pad, spa voucher, cosmetics, lingerie (if y'all are close), closet organizational items (space saving hangers, linen bins, accessory hanger, etc), pastries and sweets, diamonds (perhaps propose to your lover), a dress, tickets to a fashion show or exhibit, flowers, a luxury chair, jewelry, concert tickets, poetry books, any quartz pieces, chocolates dipped strawberries, hair extensions, logic puzzles, a voucher for an escape room, or a kitchen/baking scale

12 - the hanged man

bar in a jar (if they are of drinking age), a book on angel numbers, a book on natural medical remedies, ballet classes or tickets to see a ballet, bath bombs and other bath goodies (salt, bath table, candles, sugar scrub, bath teas, etc), beach vacation, tea or coffee sampler, butterfly farm kit with caterpillars, disposable camera or a camera they would like (polaroid, filming, etc), scientific kits (geode kit, grow your own crystals, etc), cigars (for the dads in your life), unsolved mysteries or crime kit, dance classes, smutty/romance/fantasy books, fairy garden, a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, budget book, makeup palettes or other cosmetic they enjoy, concert tickets, paint, poetry books, clue the board game, a pass to an indoor pool, a book on poppet making, meditation membership or a voucher for in-person sessions, or something to support their curiosity for new spiritual insight

13 - death

hermit crab, a jumping spider, a reptile, homeopathic books for natural cures and remedies, operation the game, butcherbox subscription, a book on how to cook and trim meats, beginners chemistry kit, a colon cleanse, sea monkeys, unsolved mysteries or crime kit, philosophy of death books, books on magic, magic the gathering the card game, period products (portable heating pad, the diva cup, etc), poisonous plants (belladonna, foxglove, lily of the valley, etc), a frog pond, a scorpion, a snake, a burr/boo basket (these people love seasonal stuff), or marie kondo's life changing magic of tidying up

14 - temperance

a hunting trip, bow and arrows, books on religion or philosophy, book of devotions, book on dream meanings (hello, freud haha), a certification course or college class, horseback riding lessons (for the newbie or a younger sibling or your child/niece/nephew), horse drawn carriage ride (for the couples *smirk*), logic puzzles, things that support their goals, or a book of angel number meanings

15 - the devil

a fan or air conditioning unit, if you have the land for it a cow/horse/goat, kinetic tape, arnicare bruise cream (this is a joke... unless...), coal or a diamond (this is also a joke... unless...), a clock or a watch, cuticle trimmer (and other nail care things), room darkening curtains, a happy lamp, lotion/cream, hat/scarf/gloves, hair products (extensions, shampoo subscription, etc), leather fashion-ware, gardening supplies, ice maker, or a juice cleanse

16 - the tower

tiger balm or other pain relieving ointment, acrobatic/gymnastic classes, homeopathic books for natural cures and remedies, first-aid kit, baking kits, barbecue sauce sampler, barbecue sauce sampler / grilling gear (for the dads), gift card for haircut, dollar shave club (for the dads pt 2), metal works (spoon handle rings, metal roses, etc), boxing lessons, boxing match tickets or monster truck tickets, butcherbox subscription, a book on how to cook and trim meats, crafted wooden objects (cutting boards, tables, etc), cactus plant, beginners chemistry kit, cookbook, pocket knife or leatherman/multitool, tool kit, jenga, emergency kit, food, first aid kit, merchandise for their favorite superhero(es), electric lighter, liqour or bar in a jar (if they are of drinking age), rock music (a vinyl or concert tickets), pepper plant, pipe for smoking (if they like to smoke that is - my grandfather had a collection), lego kit, or lincoln logs

17 - the star

friendship bracelets, a fan / ac unit, model airplane, flight lessons, compression stockings/socks, architectural tour, astrology reading, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), club memberships (golf, racket ball, sam's, etc), electronic devices (a new phone, amazon fire stick, solar portable charger, etc), movie on blue-ray or dvd, movie gift card, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, shadow work journal, aesthetically pleasing bluetooth retro radio, streaming service subscription, a book on health or mental health, or a book on positivity

18 - the moon

abstract art, bar in a jar (if they are of legal age), a fish, a fish tank, tickets to an aquarium, cocktail book (if they are of legal age), a fishing trip (for the dads), book of conspiracy theories, the conspiracy theory map, a crystal ball, unsolved mysteries or crime kit, a jellyfish, a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, poetry book, hydroponic starter system, games that involve bluffing (clue, poker, herd mentality, etc), shoes, sleeping eye mask, silk pillow cases, new bed sheets, bonnet, socks, a computer keyboard, typewriter, a book on shadow work, a puppy, or a book on dream meanings

19 - the sun

maine coon, autobiographical books, ballroom dancing lessons, poker set, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), card games, personal celebrity cameo, circus fruit basket, chocolate gold coins, classes that encourage creativity (create it and break it sessions, pottery classes, etc), jewelry or an engagement ring (if it's been more than 2 years y'all should know what you are doing at this point), flowers, indoor herb garden, tickets to race of some sort (cars, horse, sporting events, etc), sporting equipment, ivy plant, a pottery painting voucher / gift certificate, or something for their passion project / hobby

20 - judgment

a reptile, ant farm, a guide on astral projection, operation the game, the chameleon game, clue game, unsolved case files game, grand theft auto video game, assassins creed video game, dungeons and dragons the game, yahtzee, emergency preparedness kit, magician kit, poisonous plants (belladonna, foxglove, lily of the valley, etc), the divine comedy, puzzles, a rodent of some sort, or lingerie (if y'all are close)

21 - the world

gardening supplies, acoustic guitar, air conditioning or fan, architectural tour, teddy bear, snow globe, boots, calendar or planner, supergoop (sun protectant) products, wooden objects (cutting board, chest, box, etc), carpet, clay (air drying or via kiln), a clock or watch, compression stockings/socks, collectible coins, pain patches or kinetic tape, crystals, budget book, lotions for dry skin, dried fruits, gloves/mittens, hair care products, ice machine or ice making trays, ice cream subscription, pottery classes, rain coat, real estate or land, zen sand garden, sculpture, or snake

22 - the fool

flight lessons, model airplane, a flight to anywhere, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), an astrology reading, bath products, biking gear, movie theatre gift card, clock or watch, club memberships (golf, racket ball, sam's, etc), mood lighting or strip lights, a train ride, fun magnets, motorcycle accessories/training, microphone (maybe they are filming or recording something), patterns for cross stitch / knitting / crocheting, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, stuff for the tv (surround sound, sound bar, streaming subscription, etc), or classes for one of their interests

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[luffyvace]

Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto twin reader

These are for my good friend irl :) ENJOY!!

btw this is written with fem! Reader in mind. Yes I will likely do a male reader version dw 💗 (i don’t think it’ll have shoto twin reader)

So bakugo in a relationship huh? Not the first thing I’d think he’s into but hey, it’s already happened now! 🤷‍♀️

About kats and todo’s beef tho….

at the beginning I mean

katsuki isn’t the type of person to lump people in with your siblings or wtv

buttttt if you and shoto are similar/have similar personalities or interests he might somewhat dislike you at first

if not he doesn’t mind

but it’d especially tick him off if you and todo gang up on him in fights/arguments

but again he decides his opinion of you based off what you show him him or how you present yourself

which is why he didn’t remember most people’s names at the beginning of the show

bc he didn’t have anything to remember them by-

he may come up to you on some sunny callin you icy hot 2.0 n stuff but if you assert your dominance and show him you deserve respect then he lets go of that quickly

not out of fear but because katsuki doesn’t really pick on the people he respects

best jeanist is a great example of what I mean!

if your relation to todo is really similar however

he might find you a bit more annoying at first

he just thinks of you as the off brand version of todoroki until you give him a reason to respect you 😗

Although if your talking more mature kats when it’s like s4 around then he’s more likely to view you as your own person first time around

he also doesn’t do any of that crap anymore and doesn’t mind that you and todo are twins

he used to always mutter ‘your wretched brother’ this and that

but he cut that out

i mean unless you nipped it in the bun back then 🤪

and to do that you likely have to humble him

So after that phase is over nicknames can range from a shorter version of your name to aliases he/people have given you

like how shoto’s quirk is hot/cold so he calls him icy hot

But whatever he comes up with for you isn’t said with a bad intent by him, of course

And w/ cooking you already know his is FIRE 🔥🔥💥💥

like it’s canon this man can cook like 💃💃🕺👯‍♀️👯‍♀️

(that’s you dancing bc his food’s so good)

GET YOU A MAN LIKE KATSUKI. GET YOU A MAN THAT CAN COOK. 💥💥💥

he be using all types of seasoning so you KNOW it ain’t dry

especially if your a spicy food lover

like I feel he genuinely doesn’t get people who doesn’t like spicy food

he may think your a bit of a wimp..🤓

If you inherited endeavor’s fire quirk he finds it useful that you can lite his barbecues or make fire for cooking in the woods for example

he still heated that explosions don’t work 🤦‍♀️

but ngl he’d rather you than shoto sooo..🤷‍♀️

For love languages his is quality time, acts of service and a bit of gift giving

with quality time he likes to ice skate with you since (if you inherited the ice quirk) you can withstand the cold

He’d try to impress you by saying he’s not that cold (even with a coat on) but he actually is

why would he admit that tho

he’s actually cold don’t torture him by staying longer than you need to

(or do I ain’t gonna judge 😂)

kats likes challenges because it makes him feel accomplished once he completed them

So he likes to do freezer challenges!!

(basically it’s this challenge where you go into a walk in freezer and see who can last the longest—don’t try this at home I’ve only seen this on YouTube and idk if that’s the actual name)

and of course your immune to the cold so it’s easy for you

so if he beats you it’ll make him feel proud

don’t think that just bc your his girlfriend he doesn’t compete with you

there’s no way he’s seeing an opportunity to become the number 1 hero and not taking it to let his girlfriend be happy

don’t blame him who would……

when you first get into your relationship things might be a little awkward and you may or may not be a little intimidated by him

which if you are he feels sorta bad and he doesn’t want you to be

he doesn’t want people he cares about to think he’s some monster

if you were just come class b rubbish what does he care what you think?

but your his girlfriend and probably his first of course he cares what you think of him!

you likely address this early because he doesn’t like the feeling it gives him

so no worries :)

if you were never intimidated by him tho

its probably just awkward silence..

even more so if you were as aloof as todo was back in the first season

or if your just a quiet/socially awkward person

kats isn’t awkward he just doesn’t really know what to say either..

deeper in relationship tho!!

things are a lot less tense and more casual

a thing you do a lot is kinda just be sprawled in bed together doing your own thing

not necessarily cuddling but your both just comfy

you guys have picked up on your couple routines and habits and what not

so things have definitely smoothed over

thankfully

with baths kats prefers not to take them together

like he just doesn’t see the point

and it’s prob quicker separately

yeah no he’s not doing it

if you’ve been together for years by now, however

he might let you wash his hair

only cuz he likes the way you scrub/scratch his scalp

its relaxing

he still doesn’t wanna do it all the time tho

You two def always work out together

so at least that

he always makes sure you pack everything before going to train/work out

he’s more meticulous than you know and it annoys him when one of you forget something

“it’s fine katsuki just leave it!”

”no I’ll just go run and get it it’s fine!”

you might as well wait bc he just has to have this one thing

idk why

you guys take a good amount of water breaks and such but you go really hard core while your at it

He’s probably either silent or a yelling motivator..no in between

Your friends lowkey ship you guys

and tease you

mina tries to get you to do pranks on katsuki

mostly bc she gets more backlash if she does it

LOL

like little stupid pranks like drawing on his face or acting like your cheating 😊

THATS NOT A LITTLE PRANK BUT SHE TRIES TO CONVINCE YOU ANYWAY-

“give in to peer pressure!” >:(

Dont katsuki will explode

LITTERALLY-

ok my bad but I just had to put at least one bad joke in there..

💥💥

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!

I had fun writing this and it didn’t take long at all :)

[currentfandomkick]

Plasticman vs Adoption Trials pt 1

Thanks for waiting, and more to be posted in the future when i have time to work out a proper battle.

Start here

Previous here

Next (not up yet)

Plasticman took a deep breath as the… ghost guardians (gaurdian goons?) of his son moved about somehow less organized than a JL and affiliated allies barbecue.

“As the leader—” the blue armed woman began.

“Only due to a technicality,” Clockwork interrupted. “We all know I’m his favorite.”

Plasticman was just glad his son was safely not present to be pressured into answering that loaded question.

“We have been over this,” Nocturne groaned, rubbing his face. “Just because he agreed to be ‘your problem’ so he wasn’t Ended, doesn’t mean you get to claim favorite status.”

“I find myself agreeing with Nocturne,” blue lady continued. “Especially as we all know we Elipis enjoys the name and role my kin have granted him for his achievements outside of the realms as a mortal.”

“And I’ve known him longest,” Nocturne forced his head up. “Frankly, i’m the most knowledgeable on the living and how they tick in this council, pun intended.”

Clockwork lifted his staff with narrow eye as a geezer. Then pointed it as a toddler.

Plasticman flung himself between them, looping around the staff a few times.

He hates being the sensible one in a room of Ancients and adjecents.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure you guys are supposed to be working out my tests. Like, how many am I taking? Do I get a snack break? Is it open or closed book?”

Clockwork gave him a look that Plas knew would bite him in the butt.

“There are five tests,” Frostbite began while taking the staff of time and Plas safely away from the Infinite’s most over the top time trickster.

“Because Amity already gave me her seal approval,” Plas twisted his head upside down, “so you couldnt up it to six or seven, right?”

“And the children are waiting for you as my liege’s deathday nears,” Fright Knight added with his special brand of ‘too courtly to side eye the Ancients but debating it’ abundantly clear. “So your tests have the potential to happen simultaneously.”

“Great,” Plasticman unwound from the staff and returned to his prior spot. “But do i have an answer ok snacks and if medical comes up, am I allowed to phone a friend,” Plas shifted into a phone and shook his phone hand in Frighty s face. “

Or is that trip to the slammer?” Plas asked behind his finger-made jail bars as he rattled a cup against them.

He delighted in Frighty’s huffing and Nocturn’s slight smile.

“The Great One will need my help and will always have it,” Frostbite began. “There is no reason why asking for help should result in consequences.”

“But if he lacks knowledge it could End Dani,” Clockwork stated with that grin Plas knew was going to bite him in the ass.

“And we are not in the business of leaving our children’s safety negotiable,” Pandora intoned.

“So, is there a class for that? Because if I’m not mistaken, none of you are quite sure how to stabilize her if old Frostbite isnt around,” Plas continued, tying himself in knots openly.

“That’s different,” Pandora began.

“Not quite, my lady,” Fright Knight interrupted. “First aide skills are a requirement, but continued stability for one born coreless is a constantly balance they must maintain themselves.”

“Only until they form a proper core for themselves.” Frost bite began. “The extensive care required is not something any one of us can provide, and halfas are always unique in each case given their nature.”

Pandora pinched her brow. “You are not helping.”

“Sorry,” Frostbite shrunk in on himself for a moment. “If possible, i would like to issue my trial first.”

“Lay it on me iced Yeti!”

Nocturne gave him a look. Plas ignored it.

“You are to escort a blob ghost to the far frozen alone. You’ve always traveled the Infinite with The Great One beside you, but if he or Dani are injured their enemies and any number of the Infinite’s predators might give chase.”

Plas gave him a few foam finger sized thumbs up.

Pandora sat taller before addressing him. “And for my trial, we shall see how you hold up against me in combat while escorting the blob to the Far frozen.”

Plas wondered if he could just turn into freshly printed paper, or if that would be inappropriate in the bad way given this is his co-parenting council.

“Okay, when do we start?”

Clockwork grinned with far too much teeth and banged his reclaimed time staff.

“Now.”

Plas huffed as he realized he was dropped into some part of IR—thankfully close to earth if the green sky was any indication… and he has a blob.

The blob—Blobby?— floated up to him and smacked into his face.

“Okay, Frostbite said Far Frozen escort mission—you got any idea which way that is blobby, can i call you blobby?”

The blob twisted in the air and splat against the ground.

“Not a fan of blobby… how about—”

Something shot him in the back.

The blob cowered on the ground.

“Hold on to that thought little buddy.”

Plas twisted his torso around the thing—squishy thing, hot, and oddly light for something that hit that hard…

Wait this is the ghost zone, made of ectoplasm. Which is as multipurpose as carbon.

Ectoplasm. He was wrapped around ectoplasm.

Well, ecto projectile then—oh this was going to be a real blast now!

“Hey little guy, i will be right back, try eating some of this,” plas unraveled himself. “It’s not the best, but my kids eat ectoblasts all the time, might feel a bit grumpy and jumpy after.”

The smushed blob inched to the failed ectoblast while plas looked around. Based on how he was hit, the enemy was in the sky.

Could be Young Blood again, or it could be a real enemy or Worse.

He’s hoping an overeager Young Blood and not Pandora with guns. He does not want to k ow what an ancient of protection, master of battle and keeper (or jailer) of hope.

One eye ran around to see what all the fuss was.

He saw blue flaming hair, Johnny’s infamous motorcycle and a bit of metal and green flames…

What were his chances of catching a ride with one of them once they find out this is a test?

Low.

Skulker likes testing weapons on his son in particular—something about it being important for his development… he does fear Ellie. Especially since Ellie is a menace of the highest degree and was raised in a lab as Vlad’s assistant before everything went down. She knows what not to do and will do it for revenge. He also knows his kids are never far behind him.

Kitty and Johnny won’t want to get on another ancient’s bad side. He’s not sure why Nocturne hates Johnny, but he’s pretty sure it has to do with Jazz—sleep guy has a favorite liminal and holds a nasty grudge whenever it involves Jazz. (And is probably why Vlad has so many night terrors now, if the baby ghost busters’ bugs are a good indicator.)

Ember hates ancients and doesnt like Plas for being “too ghost” for a mortal with no net liminality. He’s an uncanny valley to both sides of the veil, and still isn’t sure if that’s perfect or a shame.

Stealing Johnny’s bike is always ethical. He did vandalize his favorite part of his city and refuse to clean up. Cleaning ecto in any form just sucks—and not in the ‘safe consumption as a living vacuum’ sucks.

Plas walked one finger over to the bike and got ready to reel it in while another set off skulker’s guns in Kitty’s direction. Prompting Johnny and Shadow to go on the offensive and abandon their ride.

He snagged the bike while the four argued.

“Hey Goop?” The blob chimed with a twirl. “Goop it is. We gotta get going, and i grabbed a ride.”

Plas showed off johnny’s bike, and was relieved to see Goop plop down in the side car and snuggle in.

Plas flung the motorcycle into the air and let the GZP map kick in.

He’s just glad its in 2D this time and not 5D that was hard to keep track of the time part.

Then he heard a certain angry warrior yell and kicked it into high gear.

“Hold on Goop! We have an angry spear mom on our tail!”

Goop made a bubbling sound, sinking deeper into the passenger seat.

“You and me both buddy. Think the TimeLocked isles’ markets will be enough to slow her down?”

Goop made a low gurgling sound.

“Well not for a long time, but like an hour or so.

She isn’t one for poofy dresses and Goop do they have a lot of those there.”

Thanks to @stealingyourbones and @bonebrokebuddy for their info on Plasticman

Taglist below

@alinmenttreasure @sophistryandsophisms @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @im-totally-not-an-alien @akikoyuii @idek618 @satanicritualspecialist @thefanficcup @ekat @secretdestinywerewolf @dannyphantomphan @forgottenac3 @avery-isastupid-name @jadedragon1903 @naluforever3 @akikkobara @the-church-grimm @pheonixqueen @fisticuffsatapplebees @thewondersoflebanon @dontfightmecauseillcry @please-dont-see-me @onyxlightdragon @kyrianclawraith @treepainting @allulily @andsatisfactionbroughtmeback @depuffstuff @shorterthanadverage @notmuchtopost @ghostly-pal @vellichor615 @dulceringo @09shell-sea09 @halfblackwolfdemon @thecatchat @maribatshipper @legallyspawned

[2frosty4you]

Crushing on You [Soldier Headcanons]

Soldier x Fem!reader | 427 words | Masterlist | Ask/Request

Big thanks to the no.1 solider lover (my gf) for beta reading and helping me add some stuff to this <3

╒═══════════════════╕

➼ Either he falls in love INSTANTLY or he doesn't at all.

➼ Soldier is Soldier, he isn't going to waste time with someone who doesn't like America, can't fend for themselves or can't bounce off of his energy.

➼ If you're strong, can fend for yourself and he saw you snap a mans neck, great! he's super in love.

➼ But if you ALSO love his raccoons he is proposing on the spot, with the head of an enemy spy.

➼ When he starts to like you, you will know instantly. This man has no shame in shouting confessions across the battle field, mid rocket jump and landing in front of you with both of his legs broken.

➼ Scout would attempt to tell you that soldier is in love with you, and you'd sigh and just say.

"I know"

➼ He'd charge into the enemy team, yelling his battle cry and will return to you with many trinkets (BODY PARTS) (pls accept them)

➼ If you get killed on the field he'd get revenge so fast, and march over to you with the head, salute and rocket jump away.

➼ He NEEDS you to celebrate the 4th of July with him, he'll give you clothes caked in the American flag, force you out to watch the fireworks and sit around as Engie and him tend the barbecue.

➼ If you love his raccoons (which you must) hell get them into the base even if medic is yelling at him as they invade the medbay because they bit scout 36 times (and counting)

➼ Soldier is kind of easy to fluster.

➼ But its in his own kind of way, if you're pocketing him he'll be all flustered and proud of himself in being worthy of a pocket.

➼ But if you're just aiding him in team wiping, keeping the enemy corpses in place as he decapitates them. Well he'll be burning red when you offer to help him with his strange hobby. (even carrying some back if he cant hold them all)

➼ Will follow you around, like some rabid guard dog

➼ Takes you to a real American bar, think a large ox head on the wall. American flags on the wall. He'd order the most disgusting beer and you'd sit beside him until another man comes up trying to get your number.

➼ It literally no time he breaks that bottle and dives at the man, starting bar fight after bar fight (you two are banned from so many bars, like SO many)

╘═══════════════════╛

Posted 5.03.2024 Tag list: @therobloxmafia

[bottlesofrouge]

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part one.

word count: 6.9K

warning: their home lives kind of suck but that's it! (i think)

1 JUNE 2018

in the month of june, the sun rises around 5:25 am every morning in new york. sometimes it rises a few minutes earlier, and sometimes it rises a few minutes later, but lynn knew as soon as the first ray peaked its way through the blinds, her mother would be fully dressed, standing in the kitchen, and tapping her way through work emails that had mysteriously piled up overnight. growing up, lynn found this routine comforting because it never changed, weekends and holidays included. if she woke up and it was light outside, she knew her mom would be standing behind the breakfast bar with a stack of blueberry pancakes (made by her very wonderful au pair, elena) planted in front of her. she would sit on the stool across from her, and talk her mom's ear off. little lynn thought her mom's lack of responses was due to the fact that she was so tired from waking up so early every morning, but now-lynn realizes she just didn't really care that much.

her fingertips brush across the back of the stool sitting next to her, and it's almost like she can see a seven-year-old lynn sitting next to her. the slight glow of the numbers on the oven clock illuminating her features as she tells her mom about her chorus concert that was taking place in the evening. her grin widens as kathleen tells her she'll be there after she finishes work. although, elena will be the only familiar face she sees in the audience, and now-lynn knows it will always be like this. elena's familiar face amongst the crowd with her mother nowhere in sight.

the oven clock reads 5:13 am, and lynn decides to go over to the kitchen sink to splash some water on her face, trying to wash away any indication that might suggest she had not moved from the stool since she sat down nearly five hours prior. because that would be crazy, but also entirely true.

"you're up early," her mom's voice flows from the bottom of the staircase as soon as the first ray bounces off the granite kitchen counter, illuminating the room a bit more with its glow.

"i am," she reaches for the stool that she just got up from as her mom places a fresh cup of coffee in front of her.

kathleen says nothing else. instead, she reaches for her macbook that has been charging on the counter overnight, and lynn assumes she's immediately opening outlook. that's how it usually went the mornings after she'd spent the night. she'd stare at the wall for a few hours, trying not to let the sounds of her mother slamming the keys of the keyboard annoy her too much.

honestly, lynn didn't know what her mom did for work. she tried to explain it to her on a few occasions, but the only thing she understood was that it was extremely time-consuming. kathleen once said she was the only one in her office that had children, and she thought that maybe her mom should've followed in their footsteps.

"you'll be ready by 11, right? and you'll help me make sure the girls are ready?" kathleen says. she doesn't look at lynn until a few moments pass with no response. they make eye contact and her mom raises her brow. "the barbecue, lynn. remember?"

"right. i've got it. don't worry."

"your coffee's getting cold," her mom points out.

lynn tips the mug around before taking a sip. it's definitely cold, but she denies it and takes another sip before telling her mom she's wrong. there's really no reason to. it's only a cup of coffee, but she thinks she'll do just about anything to spite her.

her dad walks in and the entire atmosphere changes. he kisses kathleen's forehead and lynn can't help but cringe inside. it's absolutely sickening and she can't understand why her mom would ever take someone like him back. she had said lynn would understand when she was older, but it's been fifteen years and she still can't wrap her mind around it.

"good morning," he says as he pours himself a cup of coffee. "are the girls up?"

tuning out whatever her garbage father has to say is the only gift that lynn is thankful for. as soon as he opens his mouth, her ears magically turn off. it's something she'll be eternally grateful for because she thinks hearing peter's voice for more than four seconds would send her into a spiral.

growing up without a dad was a lot less horrific than some people may think. lynn didn't feel like she was missing out, and she didn't think her life was doomed to be a failure because of his absence. she honestly never thought much of her dad. that all changed when she was eleven though, and she walked in the door from school to see her parents moving all of her dad's belongings back into the same house he had moved out of eleven years prior (after having an affair with her first au pair before she had even turned one). needless to say, the sight of peter's face is enough to make now-lynn physically ill.

"are you going to be in such a sour mood all day, lynn?" she rolls her eyes at the words and makes no move to respond. it's silent once again, and the only sound that can be heard is kathleen's occasionally slurping.

it's nearing ten when her sisters finally wake up. jane is the first one down the steps. she's got the blanket she's had since she was born clenched in her fist as her other hand is holding the railing to make sure she doesn't tumble down the staircase. the little girl wordlessly makes her way to the kitchen, where she finds lynn making her blueberry pancakes covered in maple syrup.

"lynn," she yawns, fist rubbing her eyes. "you're back already?"

"m'only here for the barbecue mom insisted i go to."

"aw, man," the girl stabs a piece of her pancake and rests her head in her hand, a sigh pushing past her lips.

"i know. i miss you, too, jane." her fingers brush the other's hair away from her face as she eats. "i'll visit you a lot, and you know you and amelia are always invited over. all you have to do is ask."

jane only hums in response to her sister and puts all of her energy back to eating her pancakes. it's not long until amelia comes down the stairs. she looks almost as disheveled as their youngest sister. her hair is in a messy knot on top of her head, and she's still sporting last night's pajamas. lynn can't help but wonder where her mom went off to, and she feels a little queasy when amelia says she already knew lynn was visiting. simply because the kitchen smelled of food.

she makes sure jane's hair and teeth are brushed before finding her a little summer dress that screamed neighborhood barbecue, and then she braids amelia's hair away from her face before getting herself ready. there were only ten minutes before they had to leave, so lynn opts for a pink two-piece set she ordered from a random website online that probably specializes in drop shipping, and retouches her leftover makeup from yesterday before joining the two girls in the living room where they were watching some new disney movie that jane probably asked to be put on. it would be an understatement to say she was tired. her eyes felt heavy and she could barely hold her head up. she thinks that if she fell asleep now she could get out of this whole thing, but kathleen comes walking down the staircase, crushing her dreams of an afternoon nap.

"really lynn? that's what you're wearing?" and the girl should be upset at her mother's words. she really should, but after spending twenty-seven years hearing them, she's gotten used to them. "there's someone there i want you to meet."

lynn rolls her eyes as she walks to the foyer, "i'm not the next contestant on the bachelorette," she slips her shoe on. "and i'm definitely not dressing up for one of your friend's sons."

surprisingly, her mom drops it. lynn would be lying if she had said that she didn't find it the slightest bit alarming. her mom would've spent the entire two-minute-long drive trying to sell her on this mystery boy, but instead she reminds the girls that dance camp starts on monday... and then she asks lynn to take them.

when lynn gets out of the car, she can only focus on one thing, and that was how hot it was outside. it wasn't just a little uncomfortable. no, it was absolutely sweat-running-down-your-back roasting. she decides on pulling her hair up off of her neck which earns another comment from her mother. honestly, she tuned this one out, but she thinks she said something about lynn's masculine features becoming more prominent when her hair was tied back.

it's not long before kathleen starts introducing the girls to all of her friends. a woman asks if jane and amelia were her grandkids, and when her mom says no, she said that she couldn't believe how similar the girls looked to their nanny while nodding over at lynn.

there was honestly nothing she found more repulsing than this damn neighborhood barbecue. she hated it when she was seven, and she hates it now, twenty years later. it was hot and the air felt thick and humid. all she wanted was a nice long nap. she could picture it now. fresh, crisp, cool sheets and-

"lynn adams," kathleen's snapping her fingers in front of the girl's face, and it takes everything in her not to swat her mom's hand away. "don't be rude. this is my friend from yoga, marianne. she has a son-" and she doesn't know what else her mother says because as soon as the words leave her mouth, kathleen's voice sounds something similar to the bland tones of the parents in any charlie brown special, and before she knows it, marianne from yoga is hugging her and leading her towards a boy who looks like a young, unshowered, mick jagger cosplayer.

✮✮✮

harry's parents invited him over for lunch, and he really couldn't say no. he missed his mom's home-cooked meals, and honestly, he really never cooks actual meals for himself. he's found that cheap vodka and whatever mixer he could find in his cabinets worked as a great substitute. he'd never admit it, but he was excited to see his parents. sure, he lives only twenty minutes away, but he doesn't really ever have time to make a visit. failing all of his classes and frequenting the town's bar really took all of his energy.

when harry gets to his parents, he sees his sister's car in the driveway, and he thinks it's going to be a nice little family meal, something he hasn't had since he started going to college. but it's not. and really, he should've known better. no one wants to be around him.

when he stepped inside, his family and family friends were waiting for him in the living room. they sat in a circle and they all held folded pieces of paper in their hands. it took them a minute to realize that they were hosting their own intervention.

the entire event was so uncomfortable, and it made harry hate himself more than he already had. he knew he had a problem, and he also knew that he could stop whenever he wanted to. he did, in fact. he only started drinking again because he was craving validation. it doesn't really make sense to anyone but him, but he found it was easier to get someone to go home with him after he had been drinking. it gave him the confidence he needed, simple as that.

when his mom started reading her note, she was sobbing, and it made harry cry, too. it wasn't because what she was saying moved something deep inside of him. it was because he couldn't understand why they felt the need to embarrass him in front of so many people he wasn't really comfortable with. a phone call asking harry if he was okay would've worked just as well, but they never called unless it was to tell him just how disappointed they were in him.

so now he was at this stupid event for a neighborhood he hasn't lived in since he turned 18. his mom had asked him to come, and he felt like he couldn't say no. he was scared he'd push her into holding a second intervention, and honestly, he didn't think he'd be able to handle that.

it was hot and noisy, and there were kids everywhere. harry hated kids. they were gross and dirty, and they always found a way to piss him off. they were part of the reason that harry was so big on safe sex. he would literally have to change his name and move continents if he were to get anyone pregnant.

he's sitting at one of the picnic tables alone. his dad was lucky enough to skip the whole thing, and gemma claimed she was busy. his mom didn't mind though, and harry couldn't help but wonder why she was so adamant about him going. originally, he had thought that maybe she had wanted to spend some quality time with him, but nearly an hour had passed and marianne was still talking to her book club mom friends, not really showing interest in introducing them to her son. harry wasn't too surprised, though. his mom never really introduced him to her friends anymore.

marianne loves him. harry knows that. she only ever wants what's best for him, but she always goes about it the wrong way. maybe some kids needed an hour-long phone call lecture about how they'll never amount to anything if they don't finish their degrees. his sister was one of those kids. he remembers sitting at the kitchen table while his mom scolded her on the phone, and her dad did in person. john had driven the six hours to gemma's college town to bail her out of the county jail after a crazy night during her freshman year. needless to say, after that phone call, it never happened again. what his parents failed to realize was that harry wasn't gemma, and maybe he just needed someone to hold his hand and tell him everything would be okay.

he notices marianne moving away from her book club group and towards a family. there was an older couple, a girl that looked about his age, and two younger children. harry couldn't help but wonder what that family dynamic was. perhaps she was the girls' nanny, or maybe she was even a third in the parents' relationship. if it was the latter, it would definitely be a little harder to get her to sleep with him, but he always liked a good challenge.

"harry," his mom pulls him from his thoughts. he blinks and suddenly his mom and the nanny (slash possible unicorn) were standing in front of him at the other side of the table. "this is lynn, kathleen's daughter."

"who's kathleen?" he takes a drink from his cup (which held nothing but ice cubes and water) before wiping the wetness off of his mouth with the back of his hand.

marianne's face turns red, "kathleen from yoga." she says it slowly like it should ring a bell, but harry's not too familiar with the attendees of the 'Yoga Over 40' class. "kathleen and i thought you guys should talk. maybe get to know each other today," and before harry can open his mouth to say no thank you, marianne is pulling a chair out for the girl and then walks away.

"i'm lynn," she says like marianne didn't introduce her thirty seconds ago. she holds out her hand, but harry's already in a foul mood and he senses lynn (he thinks that is a terrible name) would be an easy target to humiliate.

so instead of shaking her hand like a decent human being, he looks at her over the top of his sunglasses and pops the spearmint gum he's been chewing since he got here. "not interested."

"don't flatter yourself," she rolls her eyes and leans forward, resting her forehead on the palms of her hands before crossing her arms in front of her.

"so you're telling me you weren't just begging my mom to introduce us?" his eyebrow quirks and he has a small smile forming on his lips. "'cause it looked an awful lot like that."

she smiles at him, white teeth and all, "trust me when i say i would rather act as a speed bump at the entrance of this neighborhood, waiting to be taken out of my misery by an unsuspecting hybrid toyota prius."

"weirdly specific," he takes another drink. "is that some sort of kink of yours?"

"maybe," her eyes bore into his. the look on her face is so bland, harry can't quite get a read on her. she looked the opposite of him. lynn had blonde hair and blue eyes. the only thing the two had in common was their curly hair, and so harry was obligated to think that it wasn't totally unattractive. "is yours watching mommy pick up girls at the neighborhood picnic for you?"

"ha. ha," harry's voice is emotionless. "tell me, lynn. have you ever considered going into comedy?"

"no, but i'm certain that everyone in the local comedy crowd would love my work. i'm thinking i could enter a piece titled 'desperate mom tries to pawn off loser son'. what do you think? i could credit you if you'd like." she smiles at him again, and he can tell by her eyes that her smile is fake. harry thinks if she were wearing sunglasses he might think she was trying to make a joke rather than a dig at him.

"kathleen thought we should talk," he reminds her. "i wouldn't be climbing on your high horse just yet."

the silence that followed hung around them like a cloud, and it was quite awkward. lynn didn't seem to mind though. she was off in her own world, daydreaming about god knows what. if harry were to take a guess, he'd bet that she was thinking of fairies and rainbows, or whatever else children under the age of eight think about during their free time.

"do you want to get out of here?" harry's popping the gum in his mouth again. "we could have sex. i will say you're not my usual type, but i can always appreciate a good body.

"gross," she leans back in her chair, her face showing disgust almost as if his words could contaminate her. "what's your usual type? wait let me guess," she taps her finger on her chin for a moment. "brown hair and pretty green eyes. i assume it's the closest thing you'll get to fulfilling the fantasy you have of fucking yourself."

"you think my eyes are pretty," he says, completely disregarding whatever else she said.

"i can appreciate nice eyes when i see them," she says. "don't fall in love with me yet."

lynn's wearing her hair pulled away from her face, and harry thinks it suits her. she has some sort of matching outfit on. it's shorts and a button-up top, made out of the same soft material. it's baby pink, like her lips, and she's dainty?? harry doesn't know if that's the right word, but she looks small and soft. like if she were in an arm wrestling competition with a fly, the fly would win. the tiniest smile, really it was barely a smile, makes its way to his face because... well, he thinks she's pretty.

"got something on my face?" she asks, and harry's waiting for a snide remark to follow, but she's serious. lynn has no idea that he just spent the last five minutes shamelessly checking her out. the fact that he was caught makes his cheeks burn a little, and harry shakes his head.

"you know, maybe we should get out of here after all," her fingertips brush over the back of his hand as she speaks.

"you want me to rock your world, huh blondie?"

she nods and sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. harry feels his whole body growing hot as she leans towards him again. "you wanna know what would really rock my world, harry?"

"hmm?" he hums, leaning forward to meet her in the middle of the table. honestly, this whole thing was wildly inappropriate for the high point hills annual family barbecue, but he didn't really care.

"you taking me back to yours," she leans even closer and harry can feel her words against his ear. "and letting me have the longest, most-mind blowing nap i've ever had."

"you're sick, lynn," he pulls away from her to see one of her fake smiles across her face. "but, i never leave a woman unsatisfied. let's go."

"really?"

"your prius wet dream sounds hotter with every second that passes here," he stretches his arms above his head when he stands up. "and not having to hear your voice is a huge plus."

"has anyone ever told you how charming you are, harry?" she accidentally bumps him with her hip as they walk towards his car together.

"your mom has multiple times actually. she tells me after every night we spend together," and he bumps her back, maybe a little too hard because she almost loses her balance when their hips collide.

12 JUNE 2018

throughout grade school, lynn could always count the number of friends she had on a singular hand at any given time. it wasn't that she was disliked or anything like that. she was just rather quiet and didn't feel the urge to talk to anyone unless she was being spoken to. her senior year friend group only took up four out of her five fingers, and it consisted of jacqueline, luke, silas, and violet. they met in their mathletes club at the beginning of her and silas's senior year. both luke and violet were juniors, and jackie was only a sophomore. the five of them parted ways, each going to a different college in various different states. luke ended up being the closest to her when she was in college, and even then he was four states away.

however, the distance didn't keep them apart. it was a tradition that they all met at least once a year, usually in their hometown. they would go out, maybe grab a drink, or go to the local bowling alley, but this year, jackie was in her final semester, taking the three condensed summer courses she needed to graduate when everyone was in town. having never skipped a year in nearly a decade, the five of them decided to have dinner on jackie's campus in between two of her night classes. that's how lynn found herself sitting around boxes and boxes of take out and drinking cheap wine out of hydroflask surrounded by her best friends.

"how's ren, silas?" jackie's voice pulls her back into the conversation. "i thought you'd bring them."

silas takes lynn's hydroflask from her hands, and swallows a huge gulp before clearing his throat. "i asked them to marry me," he hands the drink back to lynn. "and they said no. i guess they weren't really the marriage type."

"dude," luke shoves him. "why didn't you tell any of us?"

"it was something i needed to figure out on my own. i loved ren, you all know that, but i really want the whole thing. marriage, kids, all of it. in a way, i was the one who left them, but.. ren's engaged. i found out last night, and i don't really know how to feel about it."

"i'm sorry, si," lynn rests her head on her friend's shoulder. "you deserve better than that."

"when did you guys break up?" everyone turns to glare at violet, but silas offers her a smile.

"six months ago. i think it's a valid time frame, but we were together for four years so," he shrugs. "i don't want to think too far into it. as long as ren's happy.. that's what matters to me."

"why can't all men be like you?" jackie says. "when i broke up with chad, he stalked me for a week before sending me a $500 venmo request for wasting his time."

"his name's chad, jackie," luke laughs. "i'm not sure what you were expecting."

luke's eyes catch lynn's and he smiles at her so warmly she can't help but smile back. the two dated briefly when they were in college, keeping their romance strictly between them. but every time luke smiles at her like that, it reminds her of the many times she'd open her dorm door to find him sitting on her bed, grinning at her like... actually, there was really nothing to compare it to. she called it his sunshine smile because it was warm and bright, and it was all hers.

and then one day it wasn't. lynn remembers sitting at their yearly hangout, luke's new girlfriend glued to his side. clara yawned, he gave her that smile, and then took her home early. lynn wanted to rip that smile off his face and put it in her pocket to be hers to keep forever. and when luke showed up at her door the next morning asking if she was sure—if them not being together was really what she wanted. she said yes, and the dream of ever getting that sunshine smile back was crushed.

so now she settles for the close-lipped, warm smiles luke offers. she takes them in and tries so hard to lock them up in her memory. the way luke made her feel is something she never wants to forget, and she can't believe she threw it all away for some dick that lived across the hall.

sometimes when she can't sleep at night she thinks of luke's drunk phone call. he was a blubbering mess, but she managed to make out when he asked if lynn had cheated on him, and when lynn said 'no, but we should break up', he cried. she couldn't bring herself to hang up, so she sat there for nearly ten minutes listening to luke's heart break. she wonders if luke remembers that phone call, too.

his sunshine smiles are still reserved for clara (til death do them part), and the only other people he shares them with are their children, a toddler named thomas and a baby named ivy, and every time she sees them she can't help but wonder if they were supposed to be hers. it's not that she was still in love with luke or anything like that. she loved him in the most platonic way possible, but she deeply missed what they shared because it was good. he was good.

"earth to lynn," silas waving his hand in front of her face is what brings her back. "come back to us, darling."

"sorry, she sits up, no longer leaning on her friend. "i don't know where i went."

"are you still not sleeping?" violet's voice is so full of concern and it makes lynn's cold, grinch-like heart grow a few sizes.

"i sleep during the day," she stuffs a spoonful of the cake silas had brought. "it works. i'm okay."

"you know we love you," luke says. "you can always stay with clara and i."

"don't know if you'd want that. i'd probably steal ivy," she takes another bite. "god, she is one cute baby."

the group laughs, and lynn disappears in her own head for the next hour. she doesn't come back until jackie stands up, declaring she'll be late for her next lecture, and the rest of the group follows. luke leaves a few minutes later when clara sends a picture of ivy in her pajamas, and lynn thinks that she should never take him up on his offer because she would definitely make national news for kidnapping the girl. violet leaves with him because they parked next to each other, and she doesn't remember where that was exactly.

"thank you," silas says. "for not telling them about ren." lynn had known since the night of the doomed proposal. silas had called her from the comfort of his beaten-up honda civic and cried to her for hours.

she nodded, "of course. you asked me not to."

"yeah," he leans back on the blanket, and lynn follows him. the sun was just setting and she thought the sky was gorgeous. "i know." his voice breaks off, and she knows he's crying.

"silas?"

"hm?"

"did you know luke and i were together?"

"what?" he sits up, wide-eye staring at the girl.

"when?"

"a few years ago. when we were both in college."

"it was bad?"

"it was good," lynn says around a yawn. "so good, actually. sometimes i'm scared i won't have anything on that level again."

silas runs a hand through his hair, and furrows his brows. "what happened?"

"i left him for you know who," her hands grip his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. "and silas, please don't tell anyone this, but i regretted it for so long."

"you don't anymore?"

"no," she shakes her head and her hands fall to her lap. "seeing him with his family, silas. he's so happy, and that's worth every second of pain i caused. that's why i'm telling you this. if ren is really happy, it'll be worth it. i promise. it'll all feel okay."

silas pulls lynn into his chest, and she can feel his tears wetting her hair. "im so grateful for you, el. so incredibly grateful for you."

"you know i feel the same about you."

when he pulls away, he's looking at her with misty eyes and saying he needs to go catch his flight. they say their goodbyes and lynn even lets a tear of her own fall because he was the person she felt the closest to out of the entire group. they were the same age, and there was something a little trauma bonding about going to college alone, hundreds of miles away from home.

lynn lays back on the blanket, everything from their dinner still left behind. she's overly tired and feels like the world would explode if she had to move another inch. a quick nap under the stars is calling her name. her eyelids are growing heavy, and-

"i could steal your purse right now," the voice startles her awake. "it's sitting so far away from you and you seem to have quite the chunk of cash hanging out."

she turns her head to see harry sitting next to her and groans. "don't you have like, i don't know, a mick jagger cosplay convention to go to."

"i'll take that as a compliment, lynn." he looks down at her. "i was just making sure you weren't dead."

"how thoughtful," she sits up and leans back on her arms. "you should've just left me for the vultures, though. being picked apart by them sounds much more appealing than having a nice little chitchat with you."

"always flattering yourself, aren't you, blondie?" he gives her a lopsided smile. "couldn't have anyone finding your dead body on my campus after i took you home with me a week ago. it's too suspicious. plus, my mom doesn't really have the time to be making #freeharry posters and organizing rallies."

"i, in ghost form, would learn to speak to children just so i could tell my sisters you're guilty."

"that's who you were with at the barbecue?" he leans back on his arms to match lynn. "your sisters?"

"yeah," her finger pulls the collar of her shirt away from her neck. "i'd prefer not to talk about them right now."

"okay," he drops his head to the side, and he looks at her. it was so unfair that such pretty were wasted on someone like him.

"what? you don't have a list of questions ready to rapid fire at me? that seems unlike you."

"of course i do," he says. "but you said you didn't want to talk about it." eyes now narrowed, he licks his lips before finishing. "and you don't know me, lynn. not at all."

harry was right, and it made her feel a little guilty. when he took her home with her, the two didn't speak at all once they got to the car. the ride was quiet and she rested her head against the cool window and let her eyes fall shut. he showed her the guest room, and that was that. she immediately fell asleep, and when she did finally wake up, it was around midnight. harry was already sleeping, but he left her a note (which said he would take her home in the morning) and a plate of whatever he made for dinner (its important to note that harry made the entire meal free of the big 8 allergens) (because he didn't know if lynn had any food allergies). she ordered an uber instead, and miles drove her the whopping fifteen minutes to her parents' house in exchange for five stars and a three dollar tip.

"thank you," she offers him the slightest smile. really, it's so small harry would probably need a telescope to see the way the corners of her mouth were upturned. "for the other night."

"you're not the first girl to thank me for bringing them home," the words make lynn's eyes roll, and whatever guilt she felt in the very bottom of her stomach for judging harry is long gone. "im only pushing your buttons, blondie. lighten up," he nudges her with his shoulder and that is the tipping point for lynn.

"because women being sexualized by disgusting men is so funny, harry," she watches as his eyes grow wide. almost like he's shocked. like no one's ever told him differently.

"lynn, i didn't-"

she holds her hand up. "you should go."

and he does, not before giving her a pained look which only made her want to roll her eyes harder. lynn watches him leave and pretends not to notice the way his shoulders are slouched over more than they were the first time and the way he drags his feet like he's a thousand pounds heavier. her eyes focus back on the squirrel that's still running around the tree once he's out of sight. why were college campus squirrels always so large?

the next thing she knows, jackie is poking her side and pressing her palm against lynn's chest almost as if she was checking if her heart was still beating. a sigh falls from the girl's lips when she realizes that lynn is alive, and she can see a line in between the girls brows through her half closed eyelids. she notices jackie's chest heaving, almost like she was trying to steady her breathing. the heavy, hot ball of guilt finds it's way back into her stomach. she hates having her friends worry about her.

"sorry, jackie. i fell asleep," she yawns and reaches above her head to stretch out her back.

"are you okay, lynn?" jackie's staring at her with such intensity, she thinks this is probably what it feels like to be in an interrogation room after your life-long enemy mysteriously disappeared. "like genuinely, are you doing alright?"

"im tired," she offers her a big smile. "that's all. im fine."

jackie narrows her eyes and tilts her head skeptically, and lynn is doing her very best to not burst into tears because there's no reason for her to be crying. her friend's face softens, and she stands up, reaching her hand down to lynn.

"c'mon. let's clean up. you're staying the night at mine." lynn doesn't argue because she really does want to stay with her friend. it's been so long since she's slept at jackie's despite her only living an hour away from the girl's school. "and i usually take the bus, so you're driving."

lynn smiles at her as she helps pick up the dinner mess that the group had left, and she can't help but wonder how she was lucky eough to have such great friends. they've known each other for nearly a decade, and still care for each other the same way they did back in high school. she knows that if she were to tell jackie how she moved out months ago and still hasn't slept through the night at her own place, silas's flight would be missed and violet would drive the six hours back just to be with her.

deep down, lynn knows she can't sleep because of something a little bigger than an uncomfortable bed, but she chooses to ignore it because her therapist had said she was doing very well, or whatever that meant. it was like her doctor just marked her with a stamp, big red lettering reading 'HEALED' across her forehead, and that was supposed to make everything feel okay forever. her friends and family were so proud of this milestone, lynn didn't know if she would ever be able to tell them that maybe the big red stamp was wrong. and that was the thing, it didn't always feel wrong. only during those long sleepless nights and cloudy, rainy days.

she feels lied to, really. everyone said healing wasn't something that just happened overnight, and of course, she knew that. (who didn't know that?) they pushed this idea that lots of therapy and sometimes a few medications would help her get better. and that's the thing. she did feel better. with each hour spent on her therapist's couch came the slightest bit of feeling better.

what she didn't realize was that feeling better and feeling yourself again weren't mutually exclusive. she feels a thousand times better and yet she's never felt farther from who she used to be. honestly, that version of her might be dead, and that is something she never wants to face.

"i've lost you again, lynn," jackie's leaning over the center console to rest her head on her friend's shoulder. "that brain of yours must be pretty nice for you to be spending so much time in there."

"i just got the biggest feeling of deja vu," lynn brushes off her worries as she parks in the designated parking spot. "this is new, right? i haven't visited you here before?"

the two girls meet at the front of the car, lynn helping the other with her huge course textbooks that probably cost more than her rent.

"don't think so. luke and clara brought the babies to visit once, but i don't remember if you were there."

lynn shakes her head. it wasn't that she avoided luke and clara, but she tried to spend minimal time around them.

jackie lives on the fourth floor of her complex. each staircase has approximately thirty-two (she counted) stairs, and by the time they get to the top, lynn is completely out of breath. she leans on the wall outside of the girl's apartment door as she fumbles through her tote bag full of god knows what.

"i was in such a rush this morning," she gives her a sympathetic smile. "i just tossed my keys in here."

lynn holds back a groan as jackie piles whatever else she's holding on top of the stack of books in her hands and then kneels on the ground, dumping out the contents of her bag as she searches for her keys that look to be nowhere in sight. she hears an elevator ding and lynn wants to do nothing more than roughly shove her friend over with her foot because why did they walk all the way up ninety-six stairs when there was a perfectly functioning elevator mere feet away?

"why didn't we take the elevator, ja-"

the most obscene kissing sounds fall out of the elevator as soon as the door opens. it sounds like someone is slowly pulling one hundred suction cups painfully slow off of the walls in there and lynn wonders if it's some kind of swingers group because there's no way two people could be kissing that aggressively.

"found them," jackie stands up, brushes off her pants, and looks towards the elevator.

"m'neighbor... has someone over every night."

she's proven wrong when a girl walks out, her arms draped around a boy's neck. he's kissing her and walking her back so she's pressed against the wall, and lynn can't look away. not even when the two turn, and she realizes its harry. not even when harry's eyes catch her stare. and not even when the girl starts sucking on any exposed skin her mouth could reach (harry was still looking at lynn) (and she was still looking at him) (and his lips looked nearly bruised) (not that it matters).

jackie steps between them, and by the time she grabs all of her things, harry and the girl are in his apartment. she can't help the small laugh that escapes when she realizes the girl had brown hair and pretty green eyes.

✰✰✰✰

a/n: all of this is getting reposted because the format is driving me absolutely craaaazy :(

[tudtuds]

Hi! While I was developing Casa Caipira, the barbecue area, I thought that would be awesome to see more historical Brazilian architecture representation at the game. My 14yo Simmer tried it at the time but didn't have the skills that my today yo Simmer has.

So, here is the facade set.

The Items

There are 31 items in this set;

All Items are BG Compatible;

All items are color tagged;

Polycounts compatible with the game standards;

Stone, Plaster, and Wood textures were made by me (and I'm really proud of them);

There are a bunch of swatches with unique color combinations. Windows and Doors has 56+swatches;

Windows and Doors will work better on Medium and Tall walls;

The friezes are decor items that need to be placed one by one, but I made a 1x1 and a 3x1 module to help cover bigger areas; They were configured to work as roof finish;

Best Search Terms

"Tuds Caipi" , "Caipi Build" , "Brazil"

Download

patreon.com/TudTuds (Eary Access until December 23rd)

Follow Me

instagram.com/tud.tuds twitter.com/TudTuds

Thank you so much! Tuds More about inspirations and Items list down below.

Planning and Inspiration

I started focusing on the rural historical houses but as the set planning evolved I added more and more elements that mostly will be found in urban houses, like the Muxarabi.

I talked about this woodwork at the cross set and now I was able to reproduce the original pattern. This element was used in the doors and windows of the colonial buildings to allow privacy.

There was a time when a big number of houses has it on the facade but the Portuguese King came to Brazil and ordered to remove all of it. Some still can be found mainly on the two biggest final inspirations for the facade set, Paraty and Ouro Preto.

The other thing from the urban area is the arched doors and windows. In rural areas, most of the windows and doors of the remaining house have a flat top while in urban houses it is arched.

I couldn't create both styles in one month so this is part one of the Casa Caipira build set. The second part will not be released next month. I need to take a break of build items.

Items List

Doors

Arched Door 2x3 - Muxarabi | 56 Swatches - 521$

Arched Door 2x3 Open - Muxarabi | 56 Swatches - 522$

Arched Door - Panel | 56 Swatches - 523$

Arched Door Open - Panel | 56 Swatches - 524$

Arched Door - Glass | 56 Swatches - 525$

Arched Door Open - Glass | 56 Swatches - 526$

Arched Door 1x3 - Panel | 56 Swatches - 221$

Arched Door 1x3 - Muxarabi | 56 Swatches - 222$

Arched Door 1x3 - Window | 56 Swatches - 223$

Arch 1x3 | 14 Swatches - 45$

Arch 2x3 | 14 Swatches - 45$

Windows

Arched Windows 1x3 | 62 Swatches - 221$

Arched Windows 1x3 - Glass | 62 Swatches - 222$

Arched Windows 1x3 - Glass Open | 56 Swatches - 223$

Arched Windows 1x3 - Muxarabi | 56 Swatches - 223$

Decorations

Arched Door Trim 1x3 | 7 Swatches - 70$

Arched Window Trim 1x3 | 7 Swatches - 70$

Arched Door Trim 2x3 | 7 Swatches - 70$

Arched Window Trim 2x3 | 7 Swatches - 70$

Stone Lintel 1 | 7 Swatches - 70$

Stone Lintel 2 | 7 Swatches - 70$

Roof Finish - Corner | 25 Swatches - 15$

Roof Finish - Inner | 25 Swatches - 15$

Roof Finish - Middle 1x1 | 25 Swatches - 15$

Roof Finish - Middle 3x1 | 25 Swatches - 15$

Balcony Muxarabi 2x1 | 20 Swatches - 225$

Balcony Muxarabi 3x1 | 20 Swatches - 235$

Wallpapers

Whitewashed Plaster and Wood - With Trim | 13 Swatches - 4$

Whitewashed Plaster and Wood | 13 Swatches - 4$

Whitewashed Plaster and Stone With Base | 7 Swatches - 8$

Whitewashed Plaster and Stone | 7 Swatches - 8$

[howtotwirlaknife22]

hii 👋 i saw that you do some hcs for ghosts and would be possible to ask a nsfw and fluffy for merrick? Dating him or how we meet

cuz this bald angry man deserve some love 😭

if not that's fine, i love yr hcs <3

Yes yes ofc!

In this house we are NOT going off of @blacktacmopsi (ily ily)’s headcannon abt Merrick being a widower bc this man deserves LOVE

Merrick dating headcannons (NSFW) :

So first of all, ya’ll met each other at a bar on a military base when he was just a young sergeant.

He had noticed you across the bar and sent a drink over to you, and you had noticed him and smiled sweetly, moving over to the stool beside him and you two really ended up hitting it off that night.

He got your number that night and from then on the two of you started seeing one another more frequently.

Merrick is a stoic man and is a hard nut to crack, but for you, his cold exterior melts.

He rides a classic Harley motorcycle, and he loves it when you go on rides with him in the evenings.

When he was a young buck, his ideal date would be something outdoorsy, like camping or going on a roadtrip through a scenic state.

Would set up some blankets and pillows in the bed of his truck as you lay down, looking up at the stars while you talk about all the possibilities of the future.

He also likes going to local dive bar shows to drink and play pool.

Him being the master at pool that he is, he teaches you how to play by standing behind you, grinding up against your ass as he corrects your form with one hand on your hip and the other wrapped around your hand on the stick, whispering dirty words into your ear, quiet enough for only you to hear.

On his wiki page he is described as “stocky”, which is exactly what he is.

He’s big and muscular, but he starts to get a bit of a dad bod as the two of you grow older. He gets a little insecure with it when it first starts happening, but you’re quick to comfort him and tell him how much you love it, he’s like a big squishy teddy bear whenever the two of you cuddle up together.

He’ll let you help shave his beard, which is a privilege only you have ever gotten. He loves how gentle you are with it, as you sit on the counter with him in between your legs as you carefully run the blade down his jaw, smiling at him once you finish up, brushing your hand on the smooth skin.

This man can grill and barbecue. HELLA good. He knows how to make steak, brisket, pulled pork, roasted chicken, burgers, hot dogs, and kebabs. Give this man any meat and he’s firing up the smoker.

Speaking of smoking, when he was younger he used to smoke, but he noticed the way you would cough and struggle whenever he lit one up around you, and he hated doing that to you so he decided you quit. It was hard, but he would never stop appreciating how you stuck through him the entire way through.

He Hated having to leave you for his deployments, but he tried to call you and write to you as much as he could and would never spend time with his team on leave before he spent time with you.

He always loved it when he received Polaroids of you in your letters. He keeps one of them in his wallet to this day, and one of you in a suggestive pose with Lacey lingerie on stuffed into his dresser drawer.

Merrick was rocking a hell of a stool bar mustache before he started growing the full beard out.

This man is hairy as hell, we’re taking chest, face, legs, ass, and especially his junk. He’s bald by choice due to work, but he often shaves it off when he’s on leave as well because he just liked the way it felt. He liked the cool breeze through his scalp.

He doesn’t mind hair on his partner, in fact he adores a bush because it reminds him of the women from the magazines he had in his 20’s.

He’s girthy. We’re talking hella girth. He’s about 6 1/3 inches in length and 2 inches wide.

The first time ya’ll ever got intimate, he made sure to work his magic on you with his fingers and tongue first so he could properly prepare you to take him.

It was hard at first, it stung, and you were sure he was splitting you in half. But eventually, the pain seemed to subside and he was gentle with you, always paying attention to your face and making sure to slow down and give you a break whenever you felt like it was too much.

As your relationship progressed however, he wasn’t as afraid to get a little rough here and there. He loves to leave hickies all over your body right before he leaves for a deployment, hoping they’ll still be there two weeks later.

He’s a big fan of having you ride him, he loves reverse cowgirl in particular so he can watch your ass bouncing up and down on his cock.

He’s an ass man, and he will absolutely grip and spread your ass while you straddle his lap as you make out.

He loves when you wear leathery lingerie. He’s also a big fan of darker, gothier makeup. Ultimately, he loves a dominatrix looking gal.

He will spoil the shit out of you, all you’d have to do is bat your eyes at him and he’d hand over his wallet willingly.

He also loves massages, especially once he starts to get older. His back in particular has him groaning into the pillow as you straddle his hips rubbing the kinks out of his shoulders and back.

He ends up popping the question to you when the two of you are in your thirties, and while the wedding was a small event with a few of his close teammates and your friends, your honeymoon was spent fucking each others brains out in the Swiss alps and cuddling by the fire.

He’ll take it to his grave, but he allowed you to take a picture of him laying naked on a bear rug by the fireplace with a pillow covering his junk. You still have the photo locked away in a box of your most prized belongings.

Anyways, hope ya’ll enjoyed! Inbox is open!

~💌

Taglist: @forsworned @milkteaarttime @blacktacmopsi @keegansshark

[prototypesteve]

Nearly a year out. Mostly good.

This is a special Pride Month (2024) because it’s been a little over a year since I first came out to a friend, and nearly a year since I began coming out in stages to larger and larger groups of people (a Pride network at work, and some more immediate coworkers).

It’s been mostly good. My local 2SLGBTQIA+ community was wildly supportive, and unexpectedly welcoming & inclusive of asexuality and aromanticism. Between August and October, I was able to attend three Pride festivals in western Canada, where I saw consistent and genuine aspec inclusion, with asexual and aromantics openly marching in the Calgary and Vancouver Pride parades. I joined and took on an organizing role in my workplace’s 200+ member Pride Team Member Network (reminiscent of the Pride Society in Alice Oseman’s Loveless). I even took up overseas international travel, visiting England for the first time, on a bit of an Osemanverse fan pilgrimage, where I accidentally had a very heart-healing series of encounters with God. I’ve been openly aroace at work, and among my makerspace hobby peers, where I’ve met a surprising number of other aces and aros (five or six, but considering how rare we are, that’s like knowing five or six unicorns in real life)! I’ve even led workplace workshops on other 2SLGBTQIA+ issues, like pronouns and gender-inclusive language. It’s been mostly good.

There’s been some bad, too. I stumbled through coming out to some evangelical friends I’ve known since the early 2000s. I still haven’t come out to my tiny immediate family. I don’t know how to come out to my two “mistaken exes”—platonic friends from before any of us had heard words like asexual, aromantic, or amatonormativity and allonormativity. And of course, I ran into all the wild dysfunction on Reddit, and the pockets of aphobia on Tumblr. Those things all happened on top of the many dark moments where I thought about the decades I spent not understanding that I was asexual or aromantic, and how that left me with a psyche that’s made almost entirely of emotional scar tissue.

But the bad was minor compared to the good.

I know who I am, and what I am. I know that this is the way God made me. Others know that I know that, too. I’ve had more than a few people tell me they’ve seen a change in me.

Happy Pride Month!

Photo 1: The tiny aroace flag I hid on the visor of my Mandalorian costume as I experimented with coming out as aroace at Maker Faire in May of 2023 (no one noticed, and I stayed quiet.)

Photo 2: The workplace Pride Team Member Network barbecue on June 23, 2023 where I had every intention of telling someone and just coming out, but where I caved and instead offered to take some photos as a staff photographer. I would come out to in 200+ person Pride Team Member Network group chat a just under a week later on June 29th, 2023.

[themorriganwitch]

Top Gun Maverick - How the Characters met their s/o and some HeadCanons for their relationship

Summary:  How the Characters met their s/o and some HeadCanons for their relationship

Characters: Rooster, Hangman, Bob, young Mav and Fanboy

Warnings: 18+, MDNI

Words: 1,8k

Masterlist

_______________________________________________________________________

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin:

-       contrary to many believes I am convinced that Jake married young.

-       either his high school or his college sweetheart

-       definitely enemies to lovers

-       it took them a while to figure their feelings out bc Jake was a teasing / flirting jerk and his s/o was not having any of it.

-       they are the kind of couple who are extremely into PDA that makes everyone around them feeling cringey.

-       also, a very competitive couple but in a healthy way where both parties are thriving to help the other becoming the best version of themselves.

-       always doing their work outs together

-       they probably had their first child soon after graduating college, 6 months married when Jake had just joined the Navy.

-       it was not always an easy road, but they always worked through it.

-       I am convinced they have a bunch of kids, probably between 3 or 4 with one set of twins.

-       Jake passed out after he found out he will be a dad of twins.

-       during the TGM time frame his kids were between the ages 10 – 5.

-       I see Jake being the chilled parent, while his s/o is the one who is a bit stricter in her parenting.

-       as well as with his wife, Jake always makes sure to reassure his kids to follow their dreams.

-       at least one of the twins (a boy and a girl) when not both joined the navy, giving their mom a heart attack.

-       After Jake got a permanent Job without being on deployments that often, he totally bought a ranch with some cows, so he would have an apology to wear his cowboy hat the whole time.

————————————————————————

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw :

-       Bradley never really believed that he was capable of having a relationship.

-       Everyone he ever loved either died or betrayed him, so he closed off from an early age.

-       That’s why he only had one-night stands or casual friends with benefits scenarios for the first 30 years of his life.

-       Bradley is made for the friends to lovers’ trope.

-       Probably met his s/o via friends, maybe a friend of Phoenix who he met a few years after they graduated Top Gun

-       She is probably quite a bit younger than him.

-       They were friends for at least 1 ½ years, until Bradley trusted her with his whole heart.

-       It was on his dad’s death anniversary, which he normally spends alone, when his s/o showed up on his door, knowing he would need someone today.

-       She is the first person who has seen him cry since his mom died.

-       That was also the day he knew that she is not just a friend, but he is in love.

-       At first, he was totally overwhelmed, never kneeing the feeling of real love.

-       He probably needed some space after this, processing everything.

-       But then showed up on their doorstep, confessing his feelings.

-       After that day the both of them were inseparable

-       They are each other’s best friend, partner in crime and ride or die.

-       He is also the person who would never judge his partner for having mental health issues, he would be incredibly supportive cause he knows what the darkness feels like

-       They probably have 2 or three kids, 2 girls and one boy (who is obviously called Nick)

-       Roosters wife is probably pregnant with baby number 2 during the TGM time frame.

-       They own a huge beach house in San Diego

- They are hosting the best barbecues

-       They also have 2 dogs, probably golden retrievers which Rooster named Iceman and Maverick (he still thinks about getting a chihuahua and calling him Hangman)

————————————————————————

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd :

-       Robert knows his s/o since birth.

-       Definitely childhood friends to lovers

-       Their moms were best friend since middle school and as soon as they knew they will have each a boy and a girl, they had the dream of their kids ending up together.

-       That’s exactly the reason it took the two of them years to actually come together.

-       Both were quite good friends but their moms’ making comments about them coming together is just extremely cringe and strange for them (in their teen years)

-       Their ways parted when they choose different colleges and only saw each other on holiday breaks when they came home.

-       They would then spend every minute together by watching movies or driving through the city at night, talking about life.

-       It was when Bob announced he will join the Navy that his s/o realized that she is in love with him.

-       And it took Bob 8 months longer, until he had to eject out of a plane for the first time, terrified for his dear life that he realized the same.

-       After Bob graduated Top Gun, he made his way back home and the both of them shared their feelings with each other that night.

-       Everything about their relationship screams true love.

-       Their moms both cried when the two announced they were engaged, 3 years after coming together.

-       Due to some issues, it took Bob and his s/o a couple of years to get pregnant.

-       But after a couple of years, they welcomed their only daughter in this world.

-       Bob is definitely a girl dad.

-       And he would throw the world best sleep overs for his daughter.

-       With some homemade popcorn and different themes, he crafted some décor for

-       Due to their fertility issues, they were probably still trying doing the TGM time frame, so this would probably a topic Bob and Phoenix would have talked often about in private.

-       And she was just as happy as the grandmas to be, when she found out she was going to be an aunt.

-       Bob and his s/o  bought a huge house in their hometown shortly after their daughter was born

-       This house is also the spot where every Dagger Celebration takes place

————————————————————————

Young Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell:

-       His relationship to his s/o reminds me of the lyrics in Taylor Swifts song   Mine

-       ‘You made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter.’

-       His tropes also totally scream summer romance and the one that got away.

-       It’s also giving Baby and Johnny (Dirty Dancing)

-       He probably met her the summer when he was graduating Top Gun

-       He was in his late twenties and she probably in her early to mid/twenties.

-       She was probably in law or med school, trying to make her daddy proud, but she is a free spirit who is giving artsy vibes.

-       Probably painted Mav on his Bike or in a cockpit a couple of times

-       Their relationship progressed fast and was pretty passionate.

-       Mav loved the sneaking around and encouraged his s/o to step up to her dad and follow her dreams.

-       They had the perfect summer romance, with those cinematic moments (like riding his bike in the rain and sharing passionate kisses after)

-       Their whole world shattered after Goose died.

-       It was the end of the summer and s/o had to leave for university a couple of days after

-       They were both heartbroken but agreed that every summer romance must come to an end.

-       They were both deeply in love, without telling the other.

-       Their heartbreak was horrifying.

-       But they never stopped thinking about each other.

-       It took them 5 years to reunite, meeting up in San Diego again, where reader opened a little cafe for artist after quitting college.

-       It was a beautiful reunion, which lasted about 8 days until Mav got deployed.

-       They both agreed that a stable relationship with a house, dog and kids were not what was in the cards for them at that point, so they kept in casual.

-       It was about 15 years later, when Mav was in his mid 40’s and his s/o in her late 30’s that they agreed on settling down, in their own kind of way.

-       Mav opened his shop and they both agreed on buying a black Labrador which they called Goose.

- Being the dagger squads second set of parents and working with them through their life crises

-       Their life is not what others, especially people in the navy, would call conventional.

-       But neither Mav nor his s/o is conventional and that’s the exact reason they love each other so deeply.

————————————————————————

Mikey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia:

-       He is the dream guy for every fangirl.

-       He probably met his s/o on a convention.

-       This or it was a blind date which was set up by Payback.

-       The two of them went out for Burger and Fries in a typical American Diner for their first date, where they talked and talked about every fandom they had ever been in

-       They always have something to talk about

-       The two of them will go to Comic Con and Fan Events together, wearing the cutest couple costumes ever.

-       Gamer Boyfriend and Book Lover Girlfriend

-       He is the one to re-create book scenes with

-       Like standing in a doorframe and so on

-       He will beta read every fanfiction his s/o ever wrote, giving great critique and compliments.

-       Each other’s safe place

-       After always being judged for being a part of several fandoms from early ages on, it is very important for them to never judge their partner and making sure both of them are feeling safe.

-       Huge discussions after which fictional characters their kids will be named after

-       They probably have two boys, who are 4 years apart.

-       The first one was a couple of weeks old during the TGM time frame.

-       Its broke Mickeys heart to leave his girlfriend and his newborn son alone, but Payback made sure to bring his WSO back to his family.

-       They married shortly after the Uranium Mission, Payback being Fanboys best man.

-       This wedding definitely had some Pinterest inspiration from different fandoms.

-       For the name of their second son, the dagger squad had to vote between different fantasy names.

-       Mickey lost after trying to get the others vote for Anakin Legolas Garcia

-       The two of them hosting gaming events for Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and Hangman on the one side, while his wife, Bob, Phoenix, and Rooster had their book club meeting on the other side of the living room.

-       They also make the greatest Christmas cards, every year a different fantasy theme.

______________________________________________________________________

[holylulusworld]

Roar and giggle (1) - Cafè

Summary: He’s just the worst. Right?

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Bookstoreowner!Reader

Warnings: language, misunderstandings, love-struck Bucky

Roar & Giggle masterlist

"Ugh, I hate him so much," you groan audibly when the man you hate enters the café. Your quiet neighborhood is being ruined by a biker club and he’s the reason.

You will have to close your business if they stay much longer.

Your little bookstore is right next door to his new store. The majority of your regulars don't come around anymore. The bikers and their bikes scare them.

He was getting on your nerves all day and now, he walks into the café smirking as his eyes land on you.

As you groan and clutch your face, you utter, "You've got to be kidding me. That guy makes me so mad."

“Neighbor! Hey, doll!” Bucky waves at you. He calls your name and pet names as everyone in the café watches him. “I didn’t know you eat here too.”

“Great,” cursing his birth you watch the biker walk toward your table. At least he washed his hands and face today. Usually, he walks into your bookstore with grease on his hands and face. You had to scold him more than once as he wanted to touch your books with his dirty hands.

“Doll, what are you having?”

He pulls the spare chair at your table and plops down onto it. The chair creaks under his weight.

“What do you want?” you snap at Bucky. “I came here to get some peace and quiet.”

“Your bookstore is always quiet.”

“Not anymore.”

“Is someone bugging you?” he gasps as you tell him someone is scaring off your customers. “Who is it, Y/N? I can break his face if you want me to.”

“It’s you and your biker buddies. You make such noise and repair your bikes in front of your clubhouse. “People get scared when they see your friends smoking and drinking outside. I lost a lot of customers because of you.”

“What?” Bucky splutters. That he’s shocked about your revelation would be an understatement. “We don’t make too much noise, and it’s not only a clubhouse. It’s a garage too. We repair bikes and shit.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you sigh deeply. “I won’t make it through another month. The number of customers fell compared to two years ago. Even before you opened your clubhouse slash garage. It’s over.”

“How about you let me help you? Uh-my friends like to read,” Bucky lies. “We can buy your books and maybe have a barbecue and invite people. Bucky knows how to throw a party.”

“A party won’t help me pay for the house I dreamed of buying,” you sniffle. “It was perfect and not too far from my bookstore. I could’ve driven to work with my bike and…”

“You got a bike too, doll?” Bucky’s eyes light up. “What do you have? A Harley?”

“I meant a bicycle, Barnes,” you huff. “I can’t effort a Harley.”

“I’m selling bikes too. I’ll make you a good price,” he grins. “My favorite neighbor gets the friends and family discount.”

“I don’t have a driving license for a bike,” you mutter. “And I told you, I got no money to buy shiny things. My bookstore will close sooner than later.”

“Hmm…” Bucky wrinkles his nose. “No, we won’t let it end. I like your store. You got free Wi-Fi, and your coffee tastes better than the one they are selling here.”

“You only like it because it’s free,” you muse. “I know you only come over to get free Wi-Fi and coffee.”

“But you didn’t chase me away,” Bucky flashes you a smile. “The coffee and Wi-Fi aren’t the only reason to come over to your bookstore. I like the way you always giggle when you find something funny.”

“I don’t giggle.”

“Oh yes you do,” Bucky insists. He nods thoughtfully as you tell him the only sound he makes is a roar.

“That’s my bike, doll. But,” he moves his chair closer to yours, “if you want me to, I’ll roar for you any time of the day…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.