#it's Awful. i hate it. so i avoid riding the bus with my bike if i can help it.

[orcelito]

oh yea i was also so late in leaving for my lab today that there was NO way i'd be biking in time. but i managed to catch the bus bc there was a spot for my bike so i got there on time after all <3

[luminnara]

Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | Lost Boys x OC  CH 1

Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie

Also posted on AO3

My requests are open!

Chapter one | Chapter two

Warnings: Blood, gore, smut, all that good stuff

Vera had been to a lot of cities, some of them twice, some of them three times, some even more, but none of them were quite as unique as Santa Carla. The boardwalk was crawling with lost souls, kids with nowhere else to go, and she was one of them; no family to call her own, no real friends, barely any possessions…Vera was a wanderer, a lone soul, a lost girl. She drifted from town to town, hanging around for a day or two if nothing interesting happened before moving on...and honestly, nothing very interesting ever happened. 

Sometimes she took the bus, if she had the money from odd jobs or pick pocketing her meals, but for the most part, she was left to her own devices. She traveled on foot when she had to, avoiding major highways unless she was feeling up to a fight. During the day, she took refuge under bridges if she was broke, or motel rooms if she had a little cash. If she felt particularly frisky, sometimes she even managed to seduce locals into helping out, but for the most part, she only had herself as company, traveling by night for no reason other than an insatiable wanderlust and nobody else to spend her time with.

Nothing had ever held her in one place. She had started traveling a long time ago, when she realized she had no reason to stay in her hometown. Plus...people started to grow a little bit suspicious when they noticed too many bodies cropping up. The world was changing, and for someone like her, it was best to stay on the move.

After that, it became a habit, and she got used to wandering and never having a place to call home. Did it ever bother her? Sometimes, when she was resting, it did. She could stop and look at the stars, with some kind of foreign aching in her chest, but it was rare that she thought about it. It had started up years ago, and she had forced herself to get used to it. She had never found any cure, and while she lingered around the east coast, it had finally dulled to a strange, quiet pain. A constant throb in her chest, next to her heart, some kind of strange tightness that she was happy to forget whenever she could. It was becoming more frequent, though, as she neared California, and she chalked it up to the fact that she had been alone and hungry for far too long.

She would have to do something about that soon. She hated feeling hungry.

Vera hopped off the bus when it stopped in Santa Carla, a coastal town that boasted a crowded boardwalk and just the kind of nightlife she needed. From the road, she could see the bright lights of a Ferris wheel and even a roller coaster, and she couldn’t help but smile. She had always liked fairs and carnivals. They were fun and exciting, and good places to pickpocket. Plus, the chaos made it easier for her to go unnoticed.

At the bus stop, she was greeted with boards and telephone poles covered in missing persons ads, and it was an oddly comforting sight. She would fit right in.

“Murder capital of the world, huh?” she said to herself, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She had seen the graffiti on the back of a big WELCOME TO SANTA CARLA sign on the way in, and the flyers only added to the town’s reputation.

Yeah, this place was worth checking out.

The pier was bright, neon signs and carnival rides lighting up the night. Kids and adults alike were enjoying their summer, stuffing themselves with treats or screaming their way around the roller coaster. It all looked fun, she had to admit, and maybe once she had a chance to grab some cash she could hang around and enjoy herself. She could use a break from running constantly, and she was finding that the boardwalk was already making her happy. 

As she walked through the crowds, Vera spotted every kind of person, from middle aged parents toting along a family of four to dirty vagrant children to punks to a couple of weird kids lurking around the comic book store. There were pizza places, cotton candy carts, all sorts of dine in restaurants and bars...Santa Carla seemed like it had everything, but mostly, it was a good place for someone like her to spend some time. 

She sat herself down on a railing, trying to ignore the hunger pains she was feeling as she people watched. Beyond the homeless kids and the weirdos, the boardwalk was full of partygoers, and it looked like summer vacation was in full swing. There were a million smells in the air—cigarettes, weed, funnel cakes—but none of them really caught her attention. She let out a sigh, leaning her chin on her hand. She hated being indecisive about dinner. 

“Ugh, Surf Nazis,” a woman whispered to her friend as they ran by. 

“Gross,” the other wrinkled her nose.

Vera looked past them to the men that were shouting about their asses as they left and she snorted. 

“What’s wrong, girls?” One of them yelled. 

“Come back, we’ll show you a good time!” Another cackled, tossing an empty beer can over his shoulder. 

Vera rolled her eyes. Disgusting, pathetic creatures, all standing around a trash can as they smoked. They smelled awful, she realized with a wrinkle of her nose, and it wasn’t just from their smoke. They were nasty, leering at girls and laughing loudly with each other when the women they were bothering scampered away. 

Well, they weren’t her first choice, but at least she had found a meal.

She hopped off the fence and sauntered in their direction for a moment before turning, giving them just enough time to notice her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them perk up, and before long, all four of them were following her through the crowd, shouting profanities as she made her way down to the pier. 

“Hey baby, where you goin’?” one yelled, jogging to keep up with her pace. 

Vera looked over her shoulder. “Down under the boardwalk...unless you’re chicken.”

She heard a chorus of hoots and whistles and grinned to herself. Men were so easy. 

“I call first dibs!”

“I wanna piece of that ass!” Another yelled.

They always did. Vera was a short girl, only around five feet tall, and stocky. She carried her weight in her legs, giving her thick thighs and a round butt that could never quite stay covered by the denim shorts she loved to wear so much. 

Boys liked the way she looked. They liked how she seemed so easy to grab, so soft, so touchable. As the Surf Nazis followed her down the rickety stairs to a secluded spot under the boardwalk, their hands were already moving, unbuttoning pants and reaching for Vera as if they were entitled to her. She smiled sweetly as she backed into the shadows, cooing for them to follow, grinning sickly when they obeyed. They always did, like lambs to the slaughter, never clever enough to recognize her predatory gaze and dangerous movements until it was too late. 

Sometimes, if they were lucky, they could catch a glimpse of her bra or panties before it was over, but tonight, Vera had little patience for the dirty fingers that tried to pull her shirt off and her shorts down. Their faces leered down at her, even in the darkness, grunting as they palmed themselves through their pants.

She gave them a second to enjoy it before her lips twisted into a sick grin and she reached for them, nails like claws and teeth like fangs. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of their screams, but the waves crashing against the sand drowned the grisly noises out. As she tore into them, she laughed, loving the way they were so terrified now that they had completely lost any sense of power over her.

 Boys always liked the way she looked, until she was covered in their friends’ blood.

-o-

David was having a boring night. 

His boys were under control for the time being, lounging on their bikes next to him. Paul and Marko were laughing loudly, occasionally punching each other just for the hell of it, and Laddie was reading a comic as he clung to Dwayne. Star had decided to stay home for the night, and nobody was complaining about that; at the thought of her, David growled to himself, grimacing at the reminder of the troublesome bitch. Max had wanted a daughter and a good mother for Laddie, and what had they ended up with? A mopey, whiny little cunt who refused to kill and feed like everyone else.

Feed...damn, he could go for a snack. He could practically taste blood in the air as he thought about grabbing a bite, fangs threatening to lengthen. He hadn’t even thought he was that hungry, but now that he was thinking about it, it was bugging him, and when David got the urge to feed, there were very few things that could stop him. The hunger would sometimes gnaw at him the way it did a newborn, and even Max was occasionally put off by it. It was something he expected from a younger vampire, like Marko, maybe, but David? His appetite could be insatiable, truly monstrous in a way that most others’ weren’t. 

The boys picked up on his hunger and he heard a few growls of agreement before he nodded for Dwayne to take Laddie back to the cave. The kid was never allowed to go with them when they hunted, and Dwayne was capable enough to grab something for himself if he didn’t catch up with them. Ever since Laddie had gotten his pesky little hands on their bloody wine bottle, they had been stuck with him, and if Dwayne hadn’t turned out to be so good with the kid, David would’ve been irritated beyond belief. 

It all worked out, though, and Laddie fit in well with the rest of the group. David just had to keep reminding himself to be patient. 

“Anybody catch your eye?” Paul asked as his brother took off down the beach with their youngest member.

“Absolutely fucking no one.” David sneered.

The tall blonde straightened up to sniff the air. “Get a whiff of that, though…”

David paused, mimicking Paul. He was right. There was a metallic scent on the breeze, the sweet smell of fresh blood. It made him thirsty, and as he led Paul and Marko down the boardwalk, it only grew stronger.

“Shit,” Marko mumbled as they started down the stairs to the beach. Once they had broken free of the crowd, the scent had hit them like a train, and even David was having trouble controlling himself.

“Careful,” he warned, voice coming out with a ragged, heavy breath. 

Murders happened in Santa Carla all the time, and not only because of the Lost Boys. It was a rough place, full of drugs and vagrants, and the violence only helped them blend in. Someone had probably gotten themselves in trouble under the boardwalk, and at this point David was just hoping that the killer was still around to sate his hunger. They never fed from corpses, so stumbling across them never yielded any good results unless they were in the mood to rip them apart for shits and giggles.

David was not in the mood.

He led Paul and Marko off the stairs and through the sand, hurrying now as the blood filled his senses. It was so fresh, and there was so much of it...this wasn’t normal, even for the murder capital of the world. What kind of sadistic human would cut someone up enough to spill so much blood? What the fuck was going on under his boardwalk? Sure, it was something he would do, but other than his boys, who could possibly be that brutal?

It was in the shadows of the pier that he finally got the answers to all of his questions. 

Just like the blood had, her scent hit him like a freight train. He could tell Paul and Marko were just as confused by the way they stopped and hissed, fangs already out as they looked down at the bodies littering the sand. It was a gorey scene, throats and stomachs ripped open, Surf Nazis gutted with their pants down. 

And in the middle of it all, she had the audacity to glance up at David, and then completely disregard him as she turned back to her final victim. She wasn’t worried in the slightest about the three males, and that pissed David off a little. When he would have snarled a warning at her insolence, he found himself distracted instead, head tilted and lips parted as he drank in her scent and checked her out.

She was wearing shorts that barely covered her bloody legs, ratty combat boots on her feet and an equally ratty denim vest over a ripped up black shirt. Her ebony hair was cut into some sort of shaggy mullet,  falling around her shoulders. It was long and wavy and glossy, but tousled and messy, no doubt thanks to feeding. 

He could only stare in shock at the black-haired girl that was feasting on a Surf Nazi. He couldn’t decide if he was angry at someone else hunting on his turf or happy to find a real female vampire, one that wasn’t stupid and whiny like Star, but the one thing he knew for sure as he took a step towards her was that he was just the tiniest bit turned on.

Paul and Marko could both smell the tiniest hint of their leader’s arousal, and it excited them. They weren’t used to supernatural girls, and the thought of getting a turn with her was enough to make the air heavy with the scent of lust as they followed David. 

Paul let out a low whistle behind him. “Shit, first time I wouldn’t mind bein’ a Surfer. I’d take a little of that sugar right now, know what I’m sayin?”

The vampiress lifted her head from her victim and smiled, drunk on blood and high off the hunt. “I don’t usually share meals, but I’ll give you the rest of this one if it gives me a free pass back outta here.”

Paul tensed to take her up on the offer, but David stopped him. “Free pass?”

The girl sat back from the still-whimpering Surf Nazi, blood running down her chin. “Figure you wouldn’t want me in your territory. Sorry. Didn’t realize anybody else was here, else I’d have been moving on already.”

David smirked. “No need, sweetheart.”

She furrowed her brow. 

“It’s feeding time, boys. Grab a snack.” David grinned, allowing Paul and Marko to surge forward and rip into the Surf Nazi. He watched with a twinge of annoyance as Paul turned from his meal and pressed his bloody lips to the girl’s, but that annoyance turned into surprise when she kissed back, albeit lazily. 

She smiled as her lips moved against his, a hand moving to tangle in his wild hair. Fire tore through Paul and he growled, pushing her down until her back hit the sand and her chest touched his as her breaths turned into frenzied pants. 

Hands ran down her sides, hard nails digging into her skin as Paul nipped at her lower lip. With a whine, she arched up against him, tugging at his hair until he snarled.

“Paul,” David growled a warning. 

Paul sat back up with an irritated grumble, licking his lips before plunging his fangs into the Surf Nazi and leaving Vera alone.

David had to admit, he had never met a female vampire that wasn’t stuck in limbo like Star. They seemed rare, or at least they were around California, but Max had always told him that girls of their kind were a special breed. He was already feeling a tug toward her, some kind of something pulling at his chest whenever she moved, and before he knew what he was doing, he was crouching down to suck up the last few drops of blood while his boys turned their attention to the killer.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” Marko asked, playing with a strand of her hair. 

“Vera,” she answered with the sweetest voice either of them had ever heard, practically a purr. 

Paul sighed, leaning in again. He was head over heels already. “What brings you here to our little corner of the world, Miss Vera?”

She blinked, and they were fucking mesmerized by those lashes and those hazel eyes. “Just passing through, boys. Don’t wanna step on any toes.”

Paul groaned. He wanted her to stay. She smelled amazing, and when she had returned the kiss he hadn’t even realized he was giving her, he felt jolts of electricity shoot through every part of his body. 

He wanted more.

“Damn, babe, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he said, holding her face so that he could lick blood off her chin.

“No fair,” Marko nudged his brother. “I want a taste…”

David looked up from the drained corpse, listening as his boys slurred with love drunk voices. Max had warned him about females, about those with foreign sires. They could trap you in a web of lust, keep you dumb and happy there for as long as they wanted, rob you blind and kill your entire family...but somehow, he got the feeling that Vera wasn’t even trying to fuck with them. There was no misty, foggy sensation that would signify magic, no eye contact, no focus. As he rose to his feet, he realized he was walking towards her of his own accord, the only spell being that strange, unspoken one that kept pulling him to her.

He had an inkling of what it could be, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up.

“Got a place to stay, darling?” He asked as he shoved his boys out of the way and knelt before Vera. 

She leaned toward him, a sweet smile on those bloody lips that told him she was confident enough in her ability to handle them all. She was calm, completely in control of herself, even when faced with three healthy male vampires. Her eyes were half-lidded, long lashes fluttering whenever she blinked. 

When her tongue slipped out to lick blood off her lips, David’s eyes widened at the sight of something he had never seen before. It was split in two, each side moving of its own accord easily. Paul let out an eager noise, Marko shoving him with his shoulder to try to get a better look. Vera just laughed at their fascination, pulling her tongue back into her mouth and smiling. 

David could feel her breath on his cheek as she took in his scent and he couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her better than Paul had, to fuck her and hear his name on her lips. He wanted to show her how strong he was, to impress her, to prove himself for some reason. He would kill a hundred surfers if he had to, if it would grant him her favor. He would sit out in the sun and burn himself if it meant he could be hers. 

He had never felt this way about anyone, and it was pissing him off.

Vera laughed to herself. She could smell his desire, and she knew that it was because of her. Just like those Surf Nazis, these vampires wanted her, but at least she liked this little pack. What’s more, that aching in her chest had stopped when they showed up, and she had a feeling she knew why. 

It was a little bit terrifying, though, and she wasn’t about to stop and think about it. 

“What are you suggesting?” She asked, brushing her fingers along his cheek, a smear of blood following. 

“Stay with us,” he breathed, blue eyes locked with hers. 

“Darling, I don’t even know your name,” she quipped, never shifting her gaze. 

“David,” he said with a slight growl as he felt himself getting lost in her eyes. 

“David,” she repeated, voice soft and breathy. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, nose twitching as he smelled the fresh blood in her wrist. It was sweet, sweeter than any blood he had ever encountered before, and all he wanted to do was sink his fangs into her flesh and get a taste.

Vera heard a sigh and finally took her eyes off David. The other two were watching, just off to the side, staring hungrily at their leader and the new girl. 

“And what about you two?” She asked, hand sliding down to the side of David’s neck to keep him in check. She was confident enough in herself to handle him, but at the same time, he put her on edge. There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him yet.

That was the thing about female vampires, though; they had the uncanny ability to always put on a facade, and Vera was no exception. David made her nervous—they all did, honestly—but she wasn’t about to let them know that. 

“Paul,” the tall blonde said quickly, rushing forward as if he would die without her touch. He pressed his nose against her throat, breathing her scent as if he was starving. 

“Marko,” the smaller one followed, desperately reaching out to touch her hair. 

“Paul,” she purred, earning a growl. “...Marko…”

Another growl. 

They acted like they needed her, all three of them, but they were behaving themselves. She had no doubt that if she gave them the go ahead, she would be naked within seconds, but for the moment, they were listening to her. She had never experienced something like this before; usually, other vampires ignored her, or threatened her until she left their territory. These boys seemed to adore her, and she had to admit, she liked it. 

“Paul, Marko,” David said roughly. “Clean up so we can go home.”

With a groan, the younger two did as they were told, dragging Surf Nazi corpses into the ocean before wiping their hands and faces clean. 

“You’re their leader,” Vera said, more as an observation than anything else. “Are you their sire?”

David smirked as he helped her to her feet. “Depends on how you look at it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one way to look at that, David.”

He melted when she said his name, leaning in to catch another whiff of her scent. It was sweet, like honey, sticky and sick, and all he wanted was to drown in it. “What have you done to me, Vera?”

She smiled and took his hand, raising it to lick blood off of his fingers. “Nothing on purpose, I promise.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t mind,” Paul suddenly grabbed her from behind, arms snaking around her waist as he buried his nose in her black hair, inhaling deeply and letting out a happy sigh. The feeling of her there in his arms, pressed up against him, was enough to make his fangs slide out again, and he couldn’t help but swipe his tongue up the side of her neck.

David snarled, snapping only inches from his brother’s face. “Behave.”

“You say as if you are,” Vera snorted, giving David a gentle push and easing her way out of Paul’s grip. “But you boys are all very sweet. I don’t mind the attention.”

“Oh, you have our attention, sweets,” Paul whistled as she turned and bent over to wash her face and hands at the water’s edge, giving them all a good view of her ass. A low rumble rose in David’s throat as he appreciated the sight, and Marko echoed it. 

“So greedy,” Vera mocked as she straightened up again. “Are you this nice to every bloodsucker that hangs out on your boardwalk, or is it just me?”

“Just you, that’s for sure,” Marko said, almost cackling.

“The others aren’t so delicious,” Paul cooed with that signature laugh. 

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer?” Vera said, walking back to them. Now that her arms and legs were clean of blood, they could see that she was covered in tattoos, and David wondered if she had them as a human before she was turned, or if she had found some way to make the ink stay in her regenerative skin.

Paul gave her a cocky grin and David rolled his eyes. His brother was such a flirtatious bastard. He was a lady killer, literally, even more than David was, but Vera didn’t seem to mind his advances. She seemed comfortable with Paul, taking it all in stride.

It made David just the tiniest bit jealous. 

“Come with us.” He said it more as an order than an offer, extending his hand out to her. 

“Unless you got somewhere better to go,” Marko joked. 

“And there ain’t nowhere better,” Paul snickered.

“There aren’t too many places to hide from the sun on a boardwalk,” Vera snorted. She was finally coming down from her high, the thrill of the hunt fading again and giving way to her less monstrous personality. “I was going to have to find a good spot anyways…”

Now that she wasn’t operating solely on instinct, she could take a moment and think about her situation. Three male vampires, none of whom had tried to kill her for stealing prey in their territory, seemed to be absolutely obsessed with everything about her and wanted her to go home with them. One had even kissed her and she had kissed him back, because it had felt so right. She allowed them to touch her, to taste her skin, to share her meal. They were stronger than her, and they outnumbered her, but she still felt like she was...in charge? 

David, the definite leader of the little pack, was looking at her hopefully. His face was stony, but she could see excitement in his blue eyes, and when she smiled, there was a spark of something in those irises. 

“Just don’t kill me in my sleep,” Vera joked as David took her hand and began leading her back up to the boardwalk. 

“No promises,” Marko leered as they followed.

“You look good enough to eat, babe,” Paul growled playfully, lunging forward to cop a feel of her ass. 

Vera only laughed, but David snarled dangerously at his brother, moving his arm to Vera’s shoulders and pulling her against his side. 

“Relax, you big angry beast,” Vera said with a grin, raising her hand to his chin and giving a teasing scratch. 

David huffed and Marko hooted with laughter. “Damn, she’s way more fun than you, David!”

“I dig this chick,” Paul snickered.

“You better share her,” Marko whined.

David smirked as they climbed the stairs back up to the boardwalk. Could he manage that? He only ever shared things with his brothers, but even then, he was terrible at it. Vera had some kind of magnetic pull on him, yeah, and his mouth watered at the thought of keeping her around, but Marko and Paul were both obviously into her...and she was into them. 

She was into all of them.

He needed to talk to Max. He honestly hated having to ask his sire for help or advice, and he avoided it whenever he could. Max had never been very nurturing, despite wanting everyone to act like a big family. It worked out for the boys, sure, but Max was…not a great father. A patriarch, yes, always seated at the head of the metaphorical table, but he was cruel and cold towards David, and he had been from the very start. He thought they all needed a stern hand to keep them in check, and David didn’t like that. 

Still, Max let them run free, and he knew more than David did about their own kind. He was helpful, sometimes, in his own way, and his son was going to have to defer to him. He had questions about Vera, about the pull he felt toward her, and Max was the only one with the answers.

As they returned to the boardwalk and joined the crowd of humans, Vera was pleased to see that the sea of people parted for the boys. They stepped aside, glancing with mixtures of emotions at the little pack. Girls looked dreamy, parents grabbed their children, Surf Nazis raised their lips in sneers. Was it because of their reputation, or did the humans somehow know that they should be afraid of the predators that stalked Santa Carla? She hoped it was both. She hoped that these boys were wild and rowdy enough to rule this boardwalk, and she hoped that they liked her enough to keep her around. 

She glanced up at the sky, a few stars twinkling despite the light pollution from the city. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t itching to hop on a bus or hitch hike to the next town. For once in her life, Something was occupying her mind, and the wanderlust was giving way to another, completely foreign feeling. The ache in her chest was gone, but it was replaced by a strange, burning, almost longing that she had never felt before. It was almost similar to the emotions she experienced during bloodlust, but she was in control of herself. Her fangs weren’t poking through, her eyes weren’t shining...she was happy and her hunger was sated, so where was this coming from? 

She was still avoiding the one train of thought that would bring her to the right conclusion. It was just too much to consider, especially with everything happening so quickly all of the sudden. 

They came to a halt when they reached their bikes, Dwayne already back from dropping Laddie off. From the looks of it, he had grabbed a bite on the way, jeans stained with fresh blood that the humans would just assume was from a fight. 

Vera stopped. There was another male here? She was finding it hard to believe that she had stumbled across a pack of four males without any females, but she couldn’t smell much in the way of estrogen on them. It was just odd; vampires didn’t usually live in bachelor groups like these, but she supposed it wasn’t entirely unheard of. It was just strange that they hadn’t found any girls they wanted to keep around for all eternity.

Most people got lonely eventually. Maybe these four were all actually lovers...but she hadn’t seen any marks that would mean they were claimed, and she hadn’t smelled or sensed anything that would lead her to believe that they were serious.

Odd.

The one leaning against the bike was tall, long dark hair falling around his shoulders and a curious, but serious, expression on his handsome face. She felt frozen under his gaze, uncharacteristically nervous, like a deer in the headlights. It was like he could see right through her, and she didn’t know if she liked that or not.

“Dwayne, this is Vera,” David said as he tugged her along. She found a way to make her legs work again and followed, letting a smile curl its way onto her lips when Dwayne bowed his head to her. 

“And she’s tough,” Marko said, bouncing over to his bike. 

“And she’s gorgeous,” Paul took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss as he passed her.

“I can see that,” Dwayne said, his voice deep and smooth, a seductive smile on his lips. 

David narrowed his eyes, but tried to hide the movement with a smirk. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going to visit Max.”

“Oh, I’ll keep both eyes on her,” Paul winked as he beckoned for her to sit behind him on his motorcycle. 

David rolled his eyes, desperately trying to not make a scene. “Control yourself. I’ll be back.” 

He pressed a kiss to Vera’s head, inhaling deeply before leaving her side and stalking off down the boardwalk. He could already feel his sire tugging questioningly at his consciousness, curious as to why David was so eager to speak to him. His son had always been good at blocking him out, keeping his mind locked down unless he needed something or there was trouble that called for Max’s attention. The others were more open, but Max didn’t have as strong a link with them, and while David was supposed to be his prodigal son, he was so...secretive. Private. Closed off. For him to be willingly heading to the VideoMax store for anything other than annoying him or hitting on Maria out of boredom, something very important had to be going on, and Max was beyond itching to know what it could be. 

“Who’s Max?” Vera asked, joining Paul to perch on the back of his bike. 

“David’s sire,” Marko answered. 

“A grouchy old bloodsucker,” Paul grinned. 

“He runs the video store. He hates it when we crash.” Marko laughed. 

“But...that cashier is pretty cute,” Paul said, thinking of Maria. “I’d love for a bite of—”

He was cut off by the breath leaving his body when Vera wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. 

Marko hooted with laughter at his brother’s reaction and Dwayne let out a chuckle. Paul was absolutely speechless, and Vera wasn’t even making skin on skin contact with him. 

Until she felt him tense, smirked against his back, and slid her hands under his mesh shirt. 

If Paul could blush, he would have. He would have been a shade past tomato red. The feeling of her fingers running over his abs was all he could focus on for a moment, and all he wanted was to kiss her again, feel her again, maybe get a little tongue action...

“You’re supposed to behave yourself, Paul,” Marko taunted as he caught a whiff of the lust in the air and felt his brother’s excited thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul snarled. “I don’t need this shit from you.”

“I’m just repeating what David said,” Marko said defensively. “You’re the one who can’t keep it in his pants.”

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect little angel?” Paul shot back. “I’m the one with a goddess on his bike, might I remind you.”

Marko scoffed, lip raised in a nasty little snarl. “Not for long, Paul!”

Vera smiled as they bickered. Paul’s arousal hung in the air, but she didn’t mind; in fact, she liked it, and she hugged her arms around him tighter as he squabbled with Marko. She was eager to get back to wherever it was that they called home, and she was eager to sleep surrounded by them and feel truly safe for once. She was used to being alone, and she wasn’t scared of it, but she was always on edge, always ready to run or fight. It made her a light sleeper, and the concept of not having to worry was more tantalizing than any of these boys were on their own. 

[cultofbeatles]

parts of pete shotton’s book “john lennon: in my life” that stood out to me

(this is semi long and contains book spoilers)

john and pete being the first people ever to get banned from their church 

pete saying john would always share any candy he had with everyone around, but that he would maybe give john one piece of candy 

they held a competition to see who could go the longest without swearing and they both spent so much time focusing on not swearing that they sat in silence 

tw blood/cutting: wanting to do a blood oath and cut their wrists to be “blood brothers” but john brought a dull knife that wouldn't cut so they pretended to do it 

being pyromaniacs (seriously)

john crawling out of all fours and groaning after being canned and making pete get canned even worse because he was laughing 

john being known to pee himself when laughing 

john daydreaming while he was riding his bike, crashing into a parked car, catapulted into the air, hurt his arm pretty bad, but his main concern was the damage to his bike 

they once had a serious fight where pete was about to step on john’s glasses but intentionally missed just to tease john 

persuading their classmates to wear white dog collars that they made in class 

eleven year old john making pete watch him orgasm 

pete and john having sex with their girlfriends in the same bed 

john going through great lengths to avoid dancing because he was horrible at it 

john and paul’s first introduction being awkward as they both just stood there 

pete asking paul if he’ll join the band: “a full minute passed while paul pretended to give the matter careful thought: “oh, all right.” he finally shrugged.”

mimi slamming the door in paul’s face whenever john wasn't there to stop her 

george just pushing himself into the band because he wanted to be there 

paul, george, and john wearing buckets on their head and marching around on paul’s roof to make fun of pete’s cadet graduation ceremony 

one night after julia’s death pete found john completely passed out drunk on a bus and found out that he had been on it for hours. he took him home and tucked him into bed. 

john saying that he wrote in my life with pete and stuart in mind 

cynthia scolding john for saying something outrageous and then john saying something even more outrageous 

the quote, “john bamboozled his new soulmate” in reference to making stuart use his art show money to buy a bass 

brian epstein asking if pete wanted to come back to his house for sex and pete turning him down but following with, “no offense taken. actually, i take it as a compliment!”

calling ringo a runt 

“what’s a fucking wank between friends anyways?” - pete shotton

brian having a reminder of “haircut for george” on his desk because he was in charge of their grooming needs 

john giving pete one of his big beatles paychecks so he had money for christmas

john asking pete “isn't he lovely?” when first meeting julian 

john screaming “hi pete!” at a show because he told the staff to let him know whenever pete arrived 

john hated to be touched and especially by strangers 

john wanted to open his book in his own write with a dedication to pete saying “to pete, who got it first.” but didn't want to hurt mimi’s feelings so he drew a caricature of pete at the beginning and that’s how he dedicated it to him secretly 

pete telling john he would never go to a interviewer and talk about john for money. (he only talked to two authors about john. hunter davies, who he asked john for permission for, and philip norman. who told pete that he was only writing a book about liverpool pop music)

cynthia and john getting in an argument because she wanted a porsche and john said they're too dangerous 

paul was the beatle that was the hardest to get close to 

george’s proudest possession was a painting by bob dylan and he had a guitar shaped pool 

“there never was, and probably never will be, a group more self contained or tightly knit than the beatles were in those days..”

john loved a good pun joke 

john loved hanging out with the monkees and micky dolenz was the craziest one 

“the only thing john hated more than going to bed at night was getting out of it the next day.” MOOD.

john would literally read every single page of the newspaper 

he once saw a tv program talking about autistic kids and donated 1,000 pounds to an autistic foundation 

john making a random guest give him their sgt pepper album so pete could get one 

the beatles almost showed up to brian’s memorial service in bright colorful clothes for “good vibes”

tw suicide: john was convinced brian committed suicide 

george telling pete he use to think he was a “bad influence” on john 

paul thought magical mystery tour was going to be a big masterpiece 

at beatles financial meetings: paul doodling, john high on lsd, ringo asleep in the corner, george actually paying attention 

bill turner (childhood friend of theirs) telling paul he didn't like hello, goodbye and paul being taken back by that

the beatles bought pete a car (jaguar to be specific)

john was very insecure around girls and never knew if they liked him or not 

john thinking his housekeeper would assume him and pete were having sex because they were laying next to each other 

pete was actually happy at first when john and yoko got together because john was happy 

any time john and pete would be laughing together yoko would silence John 

the beatles had to constantly tell ringo he was the best rock drummer in the world before he agreed to join the band again 

paul asking pete if hey jude or revolution should be on the A side, pete saying hey jude, and then paul immediately screaming to john that pete picked his song over john’s. 

there was so many arguments with yoko that would have to be another post itself but i will say it’s awful 

george running after the press in his backyard because he took a photo of him while the police chase george around to arrest him for possession of drugs 

“remember pete, they can't kill you for speaking your mind.” - john lennon

when pete found out about john’s death he went to visit george 

“on the drive back home, memories of john flooded into my head. what a life, i thought.” <3

[chcnce]

guess the TWENTY FOUR YEAR OLD OCTOBER baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because HWA YOHAN / CHANCE HWA  is just as CRISP as the month of OCTOBER. wait, why do they remind me of BANG CHAN? beyond that, they seemed RELIABLE AND PASSIONATE upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of SELF-CONSCIOUS AND CAUTIOUS though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX # 4 / APARTMENT # 1 / FLOOR # 2 ; HE seem(s) to have a lot going on with HIS job as STREAMER.

hi! i’m lu and i’m really happy to present to you to my mess of a son. he’s certainly a hard pill to swallow but he’s not as bad once you get to interact with him. chance is his real english name, but also the persona he’s crafted to remain popular and relevant to the masses. he’s blunt and brutally honest, but mostly when he’s streaming. all in all: a whole ass mess, i insist.

without further ado, here are his basic stats, a trivia and wanted connections under the cut. however you can find his background and plots linked accordingly ( i’ll add other pages eventually ). i’m really fine with talking either here or discord, so whichever works fine for you, works fine for me too! i’ll be reaching to everyone go gives this a like soon enough <3

basic information

― full name: hwa yohan / chance hwa ― nicknames: yohwa ― age: twenty four ― date of birth: october 3rd, 1996 ― birthplace: cheonan, south korea. ― hometown: sydney, australia ― current location: seoul, south korea ― living arrangements: dallyeog / complex # 4 / apartment # 1 / floor # 2 ― ethnicity: korean ― nationality: dual, korean (natural born) and australian (naturalized) ― gender: cis male ― pronouns: he / him ― orientation: demiromantic, heterosexual. ― religion: atheist ― occupation: streamer ― language(s) spoken: korean (fluent), english (fluent) ― accent: heavy australian accent

physical appearance

― faceclaim: bang chan / christopher bang of stray kids. ― hair: naturally brown, though he often dyes to a variety of colors, mostly black and blue. right now, it’s a purple color that’s already fading. ― eye colour: coffee brown ― height: 171cm ― weight: 56kg ― tattoos: none at the moment. ― piercings: lobe and upper lobe on both ears. anti-tragus, orbital and rook on the left one. double helix on the right one. ― clothing style: regularly techwear when he goes out and athleisure at home.

personality

― label: the cynical ― positive traits: attentive, dependable, reliable, passionate, brave, energetic, honest, humorous, clever, versatile, truthful, affectionate, sociable ― negative traits: self-conscious, cautious, opinionated, arrogant, detached, critical, tactless, stubborn, loud, quick-tempered, harsh, unfiltered, cynical, restless, ambitious, ― hobbies: baking, collecting enamel pins and funkos, jigsaw puzzles, skateboarding, reading, listening to music, curating playlists when he has time, learning origami. ― habits: obsessively organising, borrowing books and rarely ever returning them (he forgets who they belong to ok), really bad road rage, awful at keeping track of time, people watching, always wears a black ring on his left index finger, always hugs something when sleeping, gets easily impressed by things, quotes movies and shows in regular conversations, knuckle cracking, snacking between meals, eye rolling without noticing, squinting when concentrated, crossing his arms over his chest, running hands through his hair, slouching, rolling his shoulders. ― zodiac sign: sun libra, moon gemini, ascendant libra. ― mbti: infp-t “the mediator” ― enneagram: 8w7 “the nonconformist”. ― temperament: melancholic ― hogwarts house: ravenclaw ― moral alignment: chaotic neutral ― primary vice: greed ― primary virtue: diligence ― element: air

trivia:

― he’s played all kind of games and his twitch channel was created 9 years ago (whew) and it currently has over 5 million subscribers. currently, he streams mostly genshin impact, valorant, league of legends, overwatch, spider-man: miles morales, cyberpunk 2077 and the witcher iii. every now and then he makes charity streams. he also makes special lives with other gamers and figures where they play games like among us, minecraft, fortnite (though he absolutely hates it), party animals, fall guys and other party games. ― despite the rumours around him and his parents, he’s never talked about them to the media. it’s not like chance hides the information, after all it’s online, but he swerves questions about them and pretty much decides to not say anything about them just to avoid controversy. his parents didn’t mind until last year the company they worked at offered him a sponsorship and yohan turned it down. it’s safe to say they were pretty hurt over this and they haven’t talked much recently. ― yohan is, in his words, the biggest fan of spiderman (not really) but he’s his favorite heroe of all times and he collects everything and anything that has him in it. his biggest collection is funko pops with over 30+ figurines. he collects funkos of various other interests of him as well as enamel pins. ― lowkey a weeb. he likes watching anime in his spare time and if he likes it too much, he’d buy the manga and read it as well. his latest obsessions are kimetsu no yaiba, boku no hero academia, haikyu and jujutsu kaisen. ― won’t ever admit this out loud, but almost every ghibli movie makes him cry his eyes out, even when he’s watched the same one over and over again. he prefers to watch these on his own. his favorite one is grave of the fireflies. ― it took him a while to get used to korean culture, a part of him is still trying to. luckily, his family would speak in korean in their household most of the time and this helped him not struggle as much when it came to the language. his streams are most of the time in english to cater to a bigger audience, but recently he’s got himself a small team of an editor and a translator that’s helped him add subtitles to the videos he uploads in youtube. ― his current setup is completely sponsored except for a few extra things he’s bought himself and he has minimal experience when it comes to builds, though he’s really interested in learning and has recently researched more about the whole topic, hoping to get his first custom build by the end of the year. ― has terrible road rage and this is the reason why he doesn’t own a car or a driving license, even being in the backseat makes him anxious and would much rather prefer to use the bus, a bike or his skateboard to commute between places. taxis and other rides are his last option, if he’s quite honest. ― as a neighbour, he’s polite and tries to be mindful just to avoid needless problems. the first thing he did was soundproof his office in order to not disrupt others, but sometimes this doesn’t work as well due to how loud he can be. chance will try to greet every neighbour he encounters either with a wave or a simple nod. ― loves dogs but doesn’t feel he’s responsible enough to take care of one yet, though he will certainly volunteer to pet-sit his friends’ dogs.

wanted connections:

― life in seoul: he’s been wanting to start a podcast that has nothing to do with his main channel, aka a podcast about the culture in seoul from different perspectives, he wants to know about other people’s experiences. can be people that have lived all their life here or foreigners that, like himself, are pretty much new or can’t get enough of the city. it’d be a pretty chill podcast and anyone can participate! ― people that know about him and lowkey follow his streams (or just play them in the background while doing other stuff) ― or people that know about him but dislike him because he’s said stuff before about other public figures you’re a fan of. or he just simply rubs you the wrong way. ― people who absolutely hates when he streams late at night and he’s full on screaming at the screen (he tried to soundproof his streaming room but someone he can be way too loud, sorry) ― he’s always up for a good collaboration regardless of the topic: food, art, random tags and challenges. even if it's not up to his alley, he's likely to always say yes just for the laughs. ― the group of friends yohan met in different ways. they're not all strictly gamers, streamers or anything of the sort, but whenever they get together to play some games, it's a total chaos. and he wouldn't change it at all. ― the one person that always gets his packages delivered by mistake to your place instead of his. or the other way around. ― more: friends, enemies, a penpal, a platonic soulmate, workout buddies, etc.

[elysicndrcvm]

━♡ guess the 23 YEAR OLD FEBRUARY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because CHU EUNHA is just as BEDAZZLING as the month of FEBRUARY. wait, why do they remind me of JACOB BAE? beyond that, they seemed JOYOUS and SAVVY upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of DELICATE and QUIXOTIC though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX 1 / APARTMENT 0215 / FLOOR 3 ; HE seem(s) to have a lot going on with HIS job as a PATISSERIE OWNER/NUTRITIONAL SCIENCE STUDENT. ( ez, 21, she/they, gmt. )

     well hey there !! im ez but you fellow dallyeogers can call me ezzy, i have been in dallyeog before so some may remember me as having someone v different to my new bb i bring u now, i joined before with miss tam carmen !! anygays i return with this lil angel who i am all ‘ i say that’s my baby and i’m proud ’ over already even tho i literally came up with him like two days ago. you can find his pinboard here ( which btw i fuckeN love like he’s so aesthetic to me u go king ) and i made him a lil playlist which u can vibe to here. you can learn more about him under the cut but he’s a super soft-hearted gentle dove of a muse and quite...simple for me ?? sdhdh that’s not the right wording but U GET IT djjflg he isn’t super full of angst or trauma he’s just kinda viBIN livin his best life so that’s fun !! but ye without further ado: 

so as u kno from his app he owns a patisserie, it’s his lil babey and he is very dedicated to his craft and makin sure all his ideas for the place and the baked goods he sells are like rlly quirky and avant-garde. like he is so passionate about it u dont even KNOW, he tries to make sure most of the stuff on his menu is something like fun and new u wouldn’t get at just any old patisserie or cafe and that it’s super varied and also kinda aesthetic af? the place is very like trendy. it’s called patisserie d’elysian cause ya know he’s an extra biTCHH and proud.

he has three pupperino’s. all as adorable as each other, snickerdoodle is his golden lab and often ppl shorten it down to snickers, butterscotch is his dapple daschund pup, shortens the name to scotchie often. toulouse is his fancy toy poodle boi, shortens the name down as toto. if u are on the shortened name basis with his pups then u can consider urself one of his close pals. 

he’s actually adopted by his aunt but she raised him like she was his mother so that is what he considers her, she’s on his mother’s side but they are half-siblings. in terms of first name reasoning as well she just liked eunha as a name and didn’t even think about how it is traditionally for a female, she liked that it meant gift from heaven so it stuck. his father is still around, he’s just quite elderly so it felt like a better living situation for him to be raised primarily by his auntie. unfortunately his mother has passed on but no tragic story, she just went peacefully in old age. 

he dyes his hair quite often, it’s currently like a really pastel blue with black streaks consistently throughout like lil ones so it looks super cool. but he’s also had it be a more electric blue, lilac, and a duck egg kinda faded silvery blue. it’s naturally dark brunette. has brown eyes kind of a hazel hue. 

his style is kinda androgynous ig?? he just lives for soft retro fashion, lots of color in his wardrobe but also lots of tapered short and t-shirt fits frequented, sweater vests, rolled up jeans, high skater boi socks, soft jumpers with shirts, shirts in bright colours or satiny texture worn over plain white t-shirts, cardigans, pastel denim jackets, jeans with printed patterns on like clouds, flowers etc, favors yellow and blues. sometimes does eye makeup, occasionally wears heels bc he’s a baddie or super heeled boots/chunky shoes. 

obsessed with music, can play violin and guitar. he’s a big mitski and rina sawayama fanatic, likes anything that sounds peaceful or calming or has like a good fun vibe to it. also likes the trademark gay icons like carly rae jepsen, lorde, etc. he’s not ashamed. obsessed with mamma mia movies. but also likes rap which is rlly funny cause its like the bad bitch female rappers only and like he’ll listen to it while arranging his sock drawer or making his bed or something ajdjdj it’s like hype anthems for being a baddie and a hoe and he’s just doing his night sleepy routine adkfkf. 

showers, blankets, music, baked goods especially bagels are his happy places. 

very much a sensitive lil romanticist, falls in ‘love’ like five times a day, he just likes to giggle and smile around pretty people and admire the artwork hnghdh, he’s like yeARNS though ya know?? like he’s all i will flirt by making prolonged eye contact, i made you a playlist, this song makes me think of you etc. it’s either memes as flirting with him or elaborate love letters u never know what ur gonna get akdkd. 

awful sense of humour, loves his friends more than anything on earth except his pups, would fully live in a huge house of just like his pups and all his closest buds for all eternity. likes fruits way too much, enjoys puns about fruits way too much. milkshakes, sushi, orange hues and bus rides are some of his absolute favorite simple pleasures of life. clouds, flowers, salt lamps, the sunrise over the sea, skateboarding, fresh soda, teddy bears, busy street markets, parasols, fish tanks with exotic fish, sorbet, bike riding, polaroids, record players, rain at night against floor to ceiling windows with a fresh steaming pot of tea on the desk beside it and warm fresh sheets from the laundry on his bed, ponds, skateboarding. all little joys in life that give him like the biggest pleasure dopamine hit in the world. 

his cousin actually owns a florists so he has flowers just littering his apartment like a lot and it just looks like he has ten million suitors from the late eighteenth century attempting to court him but no all these flowers are from him to him or worse from his aunt djfjg she sends him some for valentines every valentines, pls help him, pls send him flowers. 

studies nutritional science and he fucken hates it. do not ask him shit cause he doesn’t KNOW OKAY? he doesn’t understand it either. he took it because he needed something to go alongside the passion for baking that was a real ‘qualification’/job so that is the only reason he’s doing it. no point doing a baking degree after all when he’s already a baker with a business, he’s super young still he gotta keep his prospects open. so YAH. he’d rather be doing culinary arts but eh. nutritional science sounded better and more logic based. the real miracle is he still gets top grades all the time even tho he spends his life like wtf am i even doing is this even legit akdkdk. school is the worst thing in the world for him watch his mood instantly deflate the second its brought up. 

despite being a quixotic, he’s a lil afraid of intimacy. like oh god does he love it, those small touches and acts of affection u kno? the subtle things that normally go unnoticed, eye contact, brushing of hands, linking of little fingers, rubbing a thumb, kissing eyelids or foreheads or palms or shoulders in little gentle pecks, back massages and rubs or finger tracing patterns absent-minded, shoulder massages, laying your head on someone’s shoulder or on their lap, knocking knees together, exchanging a small glance only the two of you get before bursting into laughter, smiling into kisses, napping together, having blankets placed over you warm and fresh, or towels put ready like it, someone making you something they know you like a lot. that’s his sHIT. but like he’s terrified still, someone skimming their fingers on his skin makes his breath hitch like he’s a scandalized and alarmingly aroused victorian woman sjdjd. he’s literally still a virgin, he hasn’t even had his first kiss okay my baby is delicate be gentle with him akdkd but he still LIKES PASSION AIGHT kfkf. 

real soft spoken, honey tinted voice like i shit u not this boy talks like he’s an angel sent from heavens above to guide you to the paradisaical garden of eden or some shit akdkd. ur gonna fall in love with eunha’s voice before u even fall in love with any other part of him like his adorable beaming smile or stunning eyes akdkf. 

has dance parties around his room when getting ready in the morning, listens to bella’s lullaby unironically yes from twilight yes u heard right, bit of a himbo streak sometimes in his obliviousness djfjf. quite silently subtly funny actually much like jacob himself. 

he is gay, afraid of driving, cannot do math, blanks out often and he is valid for all of those things. has a collection of cartoon and disney animal movie dvds. has a dream notebook. always has blue painted nails in some kinda shade. 

does not enjoy turning in assignments bc he is scared he’ll fail, avoids looking at his grades for weeks after they’re released and hates knowing that they’re out. 

cannot dance, dances often. collects vintage stuff esp clothes and mostly sweaters. likes midnight trips to corner stores and fields where he can just lay and look at the stars. makes friends rlly easily but has super bad performance anxiety. cannot ever have a messy room like even the tiniest bit messy. even like clothes being stacked on a chair instead of away. 

bakes peanut butter, banana and choc chip muffins (they r called monkey bites normally) whenever he’s super stressed. if u want to cheer him up when he’s anxious or stressed then u should give him french lavender honey, chia seeds and caramelized pear on toast/bagel. it is his comfort food. he fancii when he needs a pick me up. treat urself and all that. 

[delightfulstarlightparadise]

Imagine Reader/Sebastian Part 6

I may or may not have exagerated on the size of this chapter heheh.... sorry

Previous part here: https://delightfulstarlightparadise.tumblr.com/post/629648429892665344/before-we-start-i-once-again-remind-you-that

I would like to remind you that English is not my main language, but I am doing my best. 

  You spend all morning collecting parsnips, but you get a very nice price for them at Pierre’s, enough to cover both your hospital and saloon bills, and also buy some food for the farm. It is a little less than what you used to make in a week, but you feel really nice about yourself.  

    You are happily walking back to the farm when you hear someone calling you.  

“Did I get your name right?” a blonde girl says coming down the stairs that lead to the fountain in the community center. “I really wanted to take a look at you. Emily had told me you were very good-looking.”  

    You turn to her and see that she is analyzing you from head to toes. This makes you feel a little vulnerable.  

“I guess under all that dirt and with some different clothes you might actually look pretty nice.” she says.  

“Excuse-me?!” is the only thing you can stutter behind a gag of disbelief.  

“I am Haley. My sister is the crazy blue haired girl that works at Stardrop.” she says.  

    You can’t even bring yourself to greet her.  

“I guess you won’t be much of a menace, then.” she speaks just like those mean girls you thought were only seen in movies. “See you around.”  

    The same sudden way she came, she goes away, charmingly walking in heels, moving her hips in an 80’s movie sexy way.  

“Told you being weird over here is nothing.”  

    You look behind your shoulder and Sebastian is smoking ,  coming from the bus stop path.  

“You know, Sam kicked me in a place that hurts this morning and I think somehow it is your fault.” he says without even greeting you. “Did you say something about the crush I told you?”  

“I just asked.” you say, shrugging.  

“How are you?” he asks.  

“Fine. Why?”  

“Because. Isn’t it something normal people ask when they meet?” he lets go the cigarette smoke almost in your face, he doesn’t seem to care about here the smoke is going. “Also, I overheard my mom and Maru talking about you being in the hospital yesterday. Did you drink too much again? We already have two alcoholics in town.”  

“It was nothing like that. I just...” met a wizard and drank a green potion he gave me? That seemed to support more his theory of what happened. “... had an insulation?”  

“Yeah... don’t push yourself too hard.” he says. “See you around, drunk farmer.”  

“Bye gingerbread.” you reply with a whisper.  

     He freezes at his spot as if he was just hit in the stomach and slowly turns to you over his shoulder.  

“What did you just say?” his voice i s  rough.  

“Nothing.” you say with a giggle.  

“No, no. Repeat that. I heard you say it.”  

“I didn’t say anything.” you  shrug . “I better be going, I still have to eat lunch, I don’t  wanna  pass out somewhere else, again.”  

“You are that fucking kid that used to hang around with Alex and call me gingerbread man, weren’t you?” he says. “I fucking hated you back then.”  

“That is why you tried to kill me?”  

    His infuriated expression was quickly overrun by a nervous one.  

“I didn’t try to kill you, it was an accident. And I saved you.” he says looking sideways a bit ashamed.  

“You don’t call me what you just did, I don’t tell her you used to be a red hair.” you say.  

“Her?... ABBY?! HELLO.”  

    Abigail shows up from behind Sebastian, holding his hips as if she was trying to scare him. It actually worked because he turned red right away.  

“Hi  Seb . Hey farmer! What are you doing?” she says.  

“Hello. I was going home.” you say.  

“The two of you are getting along well, right?” she says and you can feel something weird in her voice. “It is the third time I see you hanging out.”  

“We used to know each other.” you say and Sebastian sends you the most infuriated and threatening look you have ever seen.  

“I see...” she says, looking a little worried. “Did I interrupt something? Do you want me to leave?”  

“No, it is fine. I was just leaving.” you say and organize your food packages in your hands. “See you later.”  

“Wait a moment!” Sebastian says. “Abby, excuse-us just a second.”  

    Sebastian hugs you from your shoulders and takes you a little further from Abigail, that keeps staring at you both, curious.  

“You don’t ever tell anyone I was ginger. EVER.” he whispers by your ear. “Neither how you used to call me. Got it?”  

“Or what?” you say, bumping into his chest with your shoulder and smirking.  

    He steps away impressed with your strength. He stares at you as if he is about to do something that he doesn’t even know what is.  

“Relax. I was just kidding.” you say, and wave at Abigail. “See you around.”  

“Hey y/n wait!” Abigail calls. “We are  gonna  play videogames at Sam tonight, come too.”  

    Sebastian chokes at his own breath and you start feeling very anxious over the invite.  

“I have... something... I...” you stutter.  

“Come on!” she says, coming closer to both of you. “It is going to be fun, like that day in the saloon. Tell the farmer to come, Sebastian.”  

“Cooome...” he says in a VERY sarcastic way.  

“I... I will see about that.” you say very quickly. “I really need to go now.”  

“Sebastian will pick you up when he is coming! He will be there at seven!” she says in such a firm way you don’t even know what to reply.  

“Abby, what the...” Sebastian whispers at her.  

“Didn’t you say Sam had a crush on the farmer.” she whispers back. “Let’s help him!”  

“Yeah, but he likes Penny, now.”  

“Oh, come on, Penny... so boring.”  

    It couldn’t be possible that they thought you were not listening to them. She keeps insisting and even pokes him on his ribs until he agrees to her.  

“I will pick you up.” he says.  

“O...k...” you say in a very uncomfortable way.  

    You go away living the two of them behind and, as you look over your shoulder you can see Sebastian discreetly lowering his face... maybe for a kiss? Were these two dating after all?  

    You quickly think that this is none of your business and when Sebastian comes over your house you can find an excuse for that unwanted social interaction.  

    When you arrive your house, there is a man sitting on your porch. He wears an eyepatch and a long cape, just like some character from a videogame.  

    You stand still by the gate while staring at him, wondering why can’t you avoid social interactions AT ALL in that town. As he sees you, he stands up in a very noble posture and greets you:  

“Good afternoon, y/n. I am Marlon, the Adventure’s guild master.”  

“The what, now?” you mutter.  

    You remember Linus saying something about that man but... couldn’t he be just some crazy guy? If a man dressed up like that in Zuzu  city came towards you saying he was of some Guild, you would probably runaway. Maybe you should find a way to lock that gate on your farm...  

“Linus told me you had a battle with a Wilderness golem.” he says. “And that you were very brave.”  

    That was not what happened, but you didn’t really know what to tell him.  

    He slid  his cape to the side, letting you see an old and rusty sword that he, then, handed to you. It was very light, but you felt unease about being holding a white weapon that could easily hurt someone.  

“Here, it is for your protection at night.” he said. “Also, if you enter the mines, you will certainly need it.”  

    You just nod at him, as yo u  don’t know what to reply.  

“I can see in your eyes you have the adventurous spirit in you. I will tell you! If you can slay 10 slimes I will give you a pass to the guild.”  

“If I can what?” you think to yourself as you shake your head in agreement.  

“Farewell my fellow adventurer.” he says, and leaves as if he is a knight going for battle.  

    When you see he is far enough you immediately let go the sword, letting it carve on the ground in front of your porch. You didn’t want any of these!  

    You get inside your house, but the memory of the Wilderness golem attack comes to your mind as soon as you see Dog l yi ng on the carpet, he is waving his tail at the sight of you, and you notice that he has a scratch on his back. You hadn’t stopped to take a good look at him before. You feel bad for him having gotten hurt while defending you.  

    You get back outside and grab the sword.  

“Come here boy, let’s give you a shower and take care of this injury.”  

    You take a long time bathing Dog and then making a bandage on the hurt spot... and you forget to eat again... Dog is probably hungry too, it’s a nice thing you bought some dog food for him. As for you, maybe you should microwave a pizza.  

    You hear a knock at the door.  

“What is it now, someone bringing me some bows and arrows? A fucking witch?” you say to yourself while getting to the door.  

    As you open up, you face Sebastian staring at you with a sneering face. He looks really good, the hair is a little less messy and he is wearing a black shirt and a leather jacket instead of the usual hoodie you see him in.  

“What the hell were you talking about?” he asks between dragging and exhaling the smoke of his cigarette.  

“Damn it. I forgot.” you say. “Look, I can’t go, I haven’t eaten yet.”  

“I can wait, I am early. Besides, I am taking some snacks too.” he says.  

“Why don’t you just... say I was not feeling ok? Please.” you insist, trying to slowly close the door.  

“Abby won’t fall for that. And... Sam was pretty excited when I told him you were going, I don’t want to disappoint him.” he replies pushing the door open and getting inside.  

    He stops at the sight of your cottage. Just a little room with a bed, a table and a chair. The smallest fridge he had ever seen (for sure you had seen too) an old tv , a microwave and a small bathroom. That was all.  

“You should get my mom to upgrade this house sometime.” he says without any regard to  whether  that would sound rude or not.  

“Do I look like I have that kind of money?” you reply with a little frown.  

    He sits on the only chair available and puts the package he is carrying on the table, beside a... helmet.  

“Aw man...You did not came by bike, did you?.” you say anxiously. “I am not riding with you, you can tell them anything, I am not going.”  

“Hey what is your deal with motorcycles?” he says. “I will ride safely, don’t worry.”  

    You cross your arms and take a deep breath.  

“It is... personal.” you say.  

    He stares at you seemingly worried but then he just looks to the other side and nods.  

“Ok then. We walk and then I come pick up my bike.” he says.  

    You sigh as you see that he is probably not going away without you.  

“Wait there, I will dress up.” you say with your head down.  

    You get to the bathroom and take a quick shower, then dress up with one of the only nice set of clothes you have left, you tide up your hair (and maybe put on some make up if you like it). You don’t have any perfume left, so you can only hope that the shower was enough to get off the smell of dirt from the farm.  

    When you get out of the bathroom you see Sebastian glance at you, quite surprised, but he quickly stands up and gets the package with snacks from the table. You realize this is probably the first time anyone sees you and you are not tired from a long trip or all covered in farm dirt.  

    As the two of you are leaving, you look at the sword behind your headboard and wonder if you shouldn’t take it with you, just in case... but he would probably think you are even weirder for doing so. You remember Linus saying the town’s folk are protected by some spell, so you hope being with Sebastian helps those monsters from attacking you... but maybe...  

“Hey, what is taking so long?” he says.  

“How weird would you think I am if I brought a sword along?” you ask.  

    Sebastian stares at you a little surprised.  

“What, have you met any slimes around the forest? I guess spring is also their breeding season.” he says. “But you don’t have to ask me anything about it. You do as you please, I don’t judge you.”  

    He scratches his neck a little blushed.  

“Abby sometimes brought a sword to your farm when we came here.”  

    You get impressed that Sebastian talks about slimes, but you then remember what Linus said about some magic in the valley that made people think those magic things were normal. You feel very relieved to be able to bring the sword with you.  

    It is kind of a long walk and Sebastian smokes two entire cigarettes along the way. You walk in silence until you arrive the forest entrance of the city, where you can see a blue house with a navy sign above the door, not far away.  

    You then see that a man is staggering from the road to your direction, holding a can of beer. He is grunting and does not seem to see either you or Sebastian coming in the opposite direction. Sebastian pulls you aside so you get out of the man’s way.  

“What?” he says, staring at you. “What did you say?”  

“Nobody said anything, Shane.” Sebastian replies. “We are just going to Sam’s house.”  

“They keep staring at me, I don’t know what these people keep looking. Why they don’t leave me alone...” he mutters while passing beside you.  

    As he says this you notice that you WERE in fact staring him and you feel a little bad about it. Maybe that is why the man engaged in such a rude talk. You saw a lot of people like him in the streets of Zuzu  city.  

“Don’t worry about him.” Sebastian says, and signs for you to keep walking.  

    Something about that man pulls your attention and you keep looking at him until he disappears in the forest.  

“Is he ok?” you ask. “Is it ok to let him go like that. Isn’t that forest dangerous?” you ask.  

“He gets like this every night... never died.” Sebastian says shrugging. “He works with Sam.”  

    You think that is very bad of him to say something like that, but you think again, if you were willing to do anything to help anyway. You continue to walk to Sam’s house.  

“Why are they taking so long?” you hear a worried whisper.  

    Abigail and Sam are waiting for you outside his house. She looks absolutely stunning with a nice black dress and a denim jacket. Sam is wearing some stay-home shorts and a T-shirt and when he sees you and Sebastian arrive,  he gets quite embarrassed.  

“Man, what do you think I invited you to do?! It is just videogames! Why are you guys all dressed up?” he complains. “Now I feel like I have to put on some pants.”  

“You look fine.” Sebastian says and pushes the snacks packages against his chest. “Go get us some food, y/n haven’t eaten yet.”  

     None of them seem to care about the sword you are caring on your waist.  

    You get inside and it is quite a charming home, it seems to have been tied up very carefully and gently. A ginger lady (that was quite a ginger town) was seated on the couch watching TV while that boy who kicked a ball on your had some days before was playing with toys on the floor.  

“Abby!!  Seb ! Ah... and y/n!” Vincent say very happily.  

    He runs towards Abigail and hugs her legs, then Sebastian fist bumps him. He stops in front of you and waves, uncertain of what to do, but showing a small smile.  

“Good night Mrs. Jodi.” both Sebastian and Abigail say.  

“Good night.” you follow, in a clumsy way.  

“Oh, hi kids!! Welcome!” she replies with a smile. “Hello y/n, nice to finally meet you. I am happy that you are already friends with my son.”  

    You nod and try to smile, once again, uncertain of what to do, but Sebastian just pushes you forward to the direction of Sam’s room.  

“You are a social disaster.” he whispers at you.  

“Don’t tell me!” you reply.  

“You are not much better  wi th people yourself.” Abigail says. “ I don’t think you get to say anything about the farmer.”  

“ Yeah, but I chose to be this  way” he replies.  

    Sam suddenly grabs you by the shoulders and excitedly yells that combination of your names he made up  during the snooker game.  

“Let’s team up y/n!!”  

“Aw man, I  wanna   team up with the farmer! Sebastian doesn’t know how to  do teamwork.” Abigail complains.  

“Why do you think I chose y/n??” Sam replies, showing her his  tongue  in a  very childish way.  

    A loud noise comes from your stomach, and you go red with shame while hiding your face between your hands.  Abjgail  let go a giggle  while Sam slowly steps back , heading outside his room, probably to the kitchen to grab you something to eat.  

    He comes back full handed with bowls of snacks, sauce and some soda bottles, but for you he gives a plate of what seems to be a complete dinner. This makes you even more  embarrassed.  

“Don’t worry, my mom always makes too much food.”  He says with a smile.  

    While you are eating, and it is absolutely delicious, both you and Abigail watch while Sam and Sebastian play a combat game . Sebastian wins two of the three rounds but not as easily as he won in snooker a couple of days before.  Abigail, then, takes Sam's control. She wins the first round  but Sebastian is way too good in the game and beats her the same way he did to Sam.  

“Your turn now, farmer.” Abigail says, handing you the control.  

“I wouldn’t even bother…” Sebastian brags , putting the control on his lap and cracking his fingers.  

    You wipe your mouth with a napkin and take the control, then choose one of the tiniest characters in the game.  

“Are you kidding? Chose another character, this one sucks.” Sebastian says.  

“But it is so cute.” You reply. “I  wanna  play with it.”  

“Suit yourself. This is  gonna  be quick.” He replies.  

    You smirk while pulling the control closer to your body. The screen announces the beginning of the match and you quickly start pressing a combination of buttons that is so well memorized you don’t even need to think about what you are doing. Your character hops around the screen punching and kicking Sebastian's and it is so fast that his character can’t hit it with their strikes. Just a few minutes later the screen announces your flawless victory.  

    Sebastian drops the control on his lap, staring at the screen in disbelief, he then turns to you in a mix of anger and awe. You can’t contain  a victorious smile.  

“Wow! I didn’t even know this character could do  these kinds of maneuvers!” Sam exclaims while taping you in the back. “This was so awesome!!”  

“Wow! You play very well, farmer!” Abigail congratulates.  “You beat  Seb  to the ground.”  

“Round two!” Sebastian  angrily  says, picking up the control while the screen announces the second round.  

     You rest the control on your lap and start lightly pressing those same buttons making your character hop around the screen in that same way, with the same result. Sebastian's character drops in slow motion in another “flawless victory"  announcement .  

     He turns to you in what seems an expression of complete defeat and makes a gesture of questioning.  

“I used to play a lot of videogames on my free time.” you explain. “Also, I know a lot of special moves from reading forums.”  

“Yeah, I do that too.” Sebastian says, upset, tossing his control to Sam.  

     You kind of pity him for getting so bitter over his loss, but it is pretty satisfying  winning over him after that pool play. You are a bit of a competitive person and he seems to be too. You spend the rest of the night defeating the three of them using the most underrated characters of the game. Each match Sebastian seems more determined to win, but even when he gets close to it, you find a way to win using a special power he didn’t know about or a combo you made up yourself.  

“You are REALLY good at it!” Abigail says excitedly. “You have to teach me this combo.”  

“You just press triangle and x while moving forward.” you say, getting close to her and showing the way you move the buttons. “Using the analogic is better than the arrows, see? It is faster.”  

    Abigail tries to replicate your movements, frowning her browns and biting her tongue in a very adorable and concentrated face. You blush at the sight of it and barely notice that she is doing everything wrong.  

“No, wait, you have to move your finger to this side, unless you want to invert the control’s settings.” you say.  

“Can you do that?! It seems much easier to turn this way.” she replies. “Maybe that is why I can’t beat my game at home! Hey, can you come over and teach me how to do this?”  

    Sebastian stares at you with the most outraged face while Sam glances from the two of you to him in a worried expression.  

“I can write you a tutorial.” you reply.  

“ Nooo ... I hate messing with these kinds of things, I might even burn the console. Please come and help me, I live behind my father’s store.” she says in a very slick way. “ Pleaase ...”  

    You can almost feel Sebastian’s eyes burn the back of your neck, but Abigail’s stare is just as intimidating. You are afraid that if you give her any excuse she will read into your soul and then find a way to curse you into accepting.  

“Ok...” you reply completely uncomfortable.  

    She smiles at you in a victory gesture. Sebastian on the other hand, grunts and stands up turning off the videogame.  

“We should be going now.” he says.  

“What? It is still so early!” Sam complains. “I didn’t even brought the sweet snacks.”  

“I am pretty sure y/n has to wake up early to attend the farm’s business.” he replies. “Also, I have a code to finish.”  

“Aw man, I was going to ask y/n to teach me how to unlock the mysterious character.” he grunts and puts the controls beside the console.  

“Haven’t I already told you how to do it?” Sebastian is almost growling at him.  

“Yeah, but I never get to do it when you are not here. You don’t explain things very well.” Sam mutters.  

    You can see Sebastian discretely slapping him in the back of his head while Abigail is still busy moving her fingers as if rehearsing the new move  she has learned from you.  

    Sam takes you outside and waves goodbye  at you as you walk towards Abigail’s house to escort her there before you go back to the farm. It is not a long walk until you get to Pierre’s.  

“You should hang out with us more often.” she says and taking you completely out of guard, she kisses you on the cheek.  

    You freeze completely, your face becoming a bright tone of red as you hear Sebastian gasp in outrage. Abigail doesn’t even bother saying goodbye to him, she just gets inside and you see her long purple hair waving through the glass door.  

    Both you and Sebastian stay put for a while.  

“We should be going right?” you say.  

“Yeah...” he replies with what, for you, seems to be a roar of threat.  

    You walk in silence until you get to the entrance of the forest. Sebastian seems so stressed that he puts out two cigarettes in that short walk.  

“Listen, I don’t want to stay in your way.” you apprehensively say.  

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” he replies, sharply.  

“Abigail.”  

“What about her?” he asks and his voice barely comes out.  

“Aren’t you, like, her boyfriend or something?” you ask.  

    Sebastian chokes in his cigarette smoke and spends quite some time coughing, but it seems to be more about making you stop talking. As you keep staring at him, he stops and looks back at you, his eyebrows frowned and cheeks a little blushed.  

“It is complicated.” he says.  

“Ok, none of my business.” you say, putting your hands up beside your shoulders.  

“Thanks.” he says.  

“But you do seem to like each other.” you can’t help saying.  

“I said THANK YOU.” he yells and you giggle.  

    You keep walking through the forest, passing a little cabin near the river and then, Marnie’s ranch until you reach the bottom entrance of the farm. When the two of you are entering, you hear a terrible screech and Sebastian stops to look around.  

“What the hell was that?” he asks.  

“A bat, maybe?” you say, your hand is already on the handle of your sword.  

    You hear it again and out from between the trees a giant skull head comes dashing at both of you, cracking its teeth as if it is about to bite you.  

     You push Sebastian aside and swing the sword at it, but it ducks and attacks you with a bump in your chest, sending you flying to the ground near him.  

“What the fuck!? What the fuck?!” he yells while standing up and trying to help you stand up too.  

     The skull takes a turn and aims at Sebastian, but you push him aside again and this time, you get to hit it with your sword knocking it back a few yards. It makes a horrible sound and quickly comes back in your direction. You wave your sword, but  miss, and it bites your arm.  

     You hear Sebastian scream your name in worry, and it hurts like hell, but you find a way to set yourself free and knock the skull with the sword again.  It let go a cry of  anger and try to advance, but it is suddenly knock down by a shadow.  

    It is D og! He came to save you once again .  

    Dog bites it and presses it against the ground while it screams and tries to escape. With a big effort from your hurt arm, you stab the skull as hard as you can, and it shatters into pieces that start disappearing.  

    You let go the sword and fall on your knees, puffing and moaning in pain. Dog comes closer and licks your face, his tail slightly wagging.  

    You feel a touch on your shoulder and turn around quickly in a defensive pose, but it is just Sebastian checking on you. He is covered in dirt and his eyes are  wide open with the scare.  

“It's me, it's me.” He says, kneeling by your side and trying to make you let go of your hurt arm so he can see it. “ This is ugly, I should take you to the hospital.”  

“And say what, that you bit me?” you reply trying to make him get away from the wound, that clearly looked like a human bite.  

“Do you have any other ideas?” he asks.  

“Take me to the Wizard!” you yell in pain.  

“The WHAT now?” Sebastian says.  

“You know, the guy that lives in that weird tower in the forest. He will help me... I guess... damn it, it hurts so much!”  

    By now you have started crying and Dog starts barking at Sebastian, as if he is telling for him to hurry. He stands up and runs to get his motorcycle.  

    Besides you starting to say that you are not going to hop on that, Sebastian lifts you with a strength he does not seem to have and forces you to sit in the backseat.  

“No!!” you yell and tears are coming down.  

“Just hold on ok. I promise you we’ll be ok.”  

    You shake your head negatively, but Sebastian takes your unwounded arm and makes you hold onto his hip. He stops for a moment, holding your hand and staring at it, as if he has just zoned out in some thought. His hand is cold, probably because he is nervous and scared, but you feel suddenly comforted by it. You slowly stop crying with small sobs.  

“Can you hug me with the other arm?” he asks.  

    You nod and pass the other arm around his hip. He starts the motorcycle engine, and you let go a shout of fear, hugging Sebastian tight and pressing your face against his back. He starts riding fast towards the west of the forest.  

“Are you ok?” he asks midway.  

    You can only bring yourself to nod.  

“You are holding a bit tight...”  

“I am sorry.” you sob, but can’t loosen the hug.  

“It’s ok...”  

    When you arrive, as soon as Sebastian stops the bike, you hop out and fall on you knees of it giving him a big scare. He hops after you, and even lets the motorcycle drop on the forest floor. He helps you stand up and walk to the tower.  

    You knock at the door.  

“Who can it be at this time... Oh  Yoba !” the Wizard attends and gasps in surprise to see you bleeding. By that time your sleeve is all red. “Come on in! Come on in!”  

     The Wizard gives you some weird red medicine to drink and Sebastian stares at it very uncertain if he should let you do it or not, but you quickly grab it and gulp it down. The pain starts to fade away while Rasmodius  cleans up the wound and infuses it with herbs.  

“So, what happened?” the wizard asks when you finally seem better.  

“I ask you!” you yell at him. “I don’t remember signing up to fight MONSTERS. A fucking flying skull BIT ME!”  

“Hmm... it seems like your ability to connect with the valley comes with the hazard of attracting the cursed ones.”  Rasmodius  says. “Not even my strong spell can protect you as it does to the townsfolk. It impresses me that you were attacked along with one.”  

    Sebastian is staring at Rasmodius  seeming VERY confused. That is probably the same face you made when you first met him.  

“I will be going back to  Zuzu ! That is it!” you say.  

“I am afraid it is not possible anymore.”  Rasmodius  replies, scratching his purple beard.  

“Excuse me?!”  

“You see, once you are now connected to the valley, you will find very difficult to leave.” he says. “You may try to take the bus, or any other way of transportation, but you will always find yourself back here.”  

“I don’t believe it! You are saying this to keep me here with those monsters and the...  Junimos ! They are telling you to do this!”  

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sebastian asks.  

“Those little apple things that live in the old community center! They are behind this.”  

    Sebastian stares at you as if you were the craziest person in the world.  

“Show him!” you shout, turning to the wizard.  

“Only those connected to the Elementals can...” he starts lecturing.  

“I DON’T  FUCKING CARE, FUCKING SHOW HIM!!!” you yell while beating your feet on the ground.  

    Both the Wizard and Sebastian jump in place scared by your sudden lash out. He takes off his hat and scratches his head.  

“What is with this new generation and curses?” he sighs. “So be it...”  

    Rasmodius  starts saying some incomprehensible words and each and every one of the rocks of the tower start shaking. Sebastian holds tight to the chair you are sitting and you start regretting saying anything at first place. A big flash of light blinds you for a second, and in the middle of the room a summoning circle appears. In the middle of the circle, the tiniest apple appears.  

    It is a little green Junimo . It waves at you and Sebastian and starts making those funny noises it does. You turn to Sebastian and gesture at it.  

“I have been smoking too much pod.” he says while rubbing his head.  

    You stand up and force him to sit down on the chair you were sitting, then hush to pick the Junimo  on your hand. You squish it while showing it to him, and then, you start, very dramatically, telling him EVERYTHING that has been happening to you since your arrival: the old memories, the plants growing too fast, the community center, the monsters attack.  

    He listens to everything staring at you as if some engine has just broken inside his head. When you finally finish, he keeps staring in silence.  

“I think it was too much for this young man.”  Rasmodius  says, analyzing Sebastian’s face from up close. “Maybe I should wipe his memory.”  

“No! No messing around with my head anymore, please!” he says, standing up quickly. “I knew you were trouble! I should have stayed home washing the dishes and let  Maru  hang out with you.”  

“Excuse me! I am clearly the victim here. Also, this bite here? I got it protecting you!” you say while shaking your previously wounded arm.  

“Apparently you were the one who put me in danger in first place.”  

    The two of you keep staring at each other in infuriating rage. Rasmodius  makes a wonderous pose and then smacks his fist on his  hand as  if he had just made a discovery.  

“I see... your destinies are connected. You are the ones for each other.” he says.  

“THE WHAT?” you both yell.  

“He has a girlfriend!” you say pointing at Sebastian outraged.  

“Abigail is NOT my girlfriend.” he replies.  

“Interesting, interesting.” the Wizard mumbles. “You have found yourselves so soon in your journey, such a connection is rare.”  

“Excuse me Mr. But farmer here isn’t my type.”  

“Wow! What?! Am I too ugly for you?” you don’t even know why you are still bickering over it, but you don’t feel like letting him say something like that about you.  

“Did I say that? You said that. I didn’t say that.” Sebastian talks back.  

“I see, I see...”  Rasmodius  isn’t even paying attention to you. “Quite a journey you have ahead of you. You shall, then, rest for tonight.”  

“ Wha ...”  

    Before the both of you can finish the sentence, the Wizard gestures with his open hands and a big flash of light involves you...  

…when you realize, you are waking up on your bed. There is no bite in your arm anymore. You can hear the rooster sing in the distance.  

Next part here: https://delightfulstarlightparadise.tumblr.com/post/629832532423213056/imagine-sebastian-reader-part-7

[adabassist]

NOT EXACTLY THE SUMMER OF ‘69, BUT I WAS NEVER AS COOL AS BRYAN ADAMS ANYWAY

Recently someone asked me how I ended up a bass player. I forget what I told them, but it was short, sweet, and long on understatement. The real answer is a lot more complicated.

My earliest memory is from before I was 2 (yep, 2 - believe it or don’t), sitting at the 70-year-old upright piano we got for free from a garage sale down the street, pounding on the low keys, because they made this GLORIOUSLY ENORMOUS SOUND… To this day, I cannot recall ever hearing an upright piano where the notes were as big sounding, although I’m sure my small ears had a skewed sensory experience compared to later years.

We (I have an older sister and brother) would play a musical piano game called “Thunderstorm”, where we would try to recreate the thunder (lower 1/3 of the keyboard), lightning (middle 1/3), and rain (higher 1/3) associated with a big storm (our parents were thrilled). I remember trying to pound on the higher keys in desperation, wondering why they lacked a powerful sound no matter how hard I hit them. I began to see the notes played in terms of size, with the lowest notes “appearing” to be largest in my mind’s eye.

Before long, I could hear how certain notes sounded good together - just octaves and fifths at first, then other “hip” intervals like a minor 7th (though I had no name for that interval in my head - I just liked the sound). I even wrote a song called “Dun” somewhere along the line, played with the index finger on each hand; left hand stayed on G (same pitch as a G string on a bass), and right hand moved between D, E, and F. “Dun” got its name because I played it so often that my siblings would mock me by singing that song back to me: “DUN DUN DU-DUN DUN DU-DU-DU-DUN DUN….”

You could say that my fate was sealed.

I would regularly sit down at the piano and play whatever my heart desired. Back then I had never taken piano lessons, and had no idea how to read or even what was “proper” to be played on a piano. I just figured stuff out when I felt like it, and otherwise just had fun learning the sonic relationships between the keys. But I thought I was pretty good anyway. I even used to make “tickets” for the family (markers, scissors, and construction paper) and make them “attend my concerts” from time to time. Let’s just say I wasn’t a big hit.

I auditioned for the school talent show in 1st grade, figuring I was a shoo-in, regardless of what my family thought (lousy philistines). I got through to the 2nd audition, and upon completion, the music teacher said, “That’s not what you played for the first audition. Can you play that song?” I said no, because everything I play is all off the top of my head. I didn’t make the talent show, and I remember thinking how “rinky-dink” the songs were by the people who did get to perform…

Somewhere along the line, I learned the names of the notes, and even found out that I could do a neat trick: if my sister played a note on the piano, I could name it - every time. I was so good at it that she was sure I was cheating or peeking, so I was marched into the next room to continue the game. This of course changed nothing; I had discovered that I could simply name the notes upon hearing them. I didn’t know what perfect pitch was, but I had it. When my cousin - well-recognized at his school for being a talented violinist - came to visit, and couldn’t do the same trick as I could, he got more than a little annoyed. But that’s the nature of perfect pitch; you can develop it to a degree, but largely, you either got it or you don’t.

I was about nine when I found a harmonica in a box in our garage, brand-new, no idea what it was doing there. I began to play with it and discovered that the same scale I played on the piano was also recognizable on a harmonica! I had never played another instrument before, and I was enthralled. After a while I got the idea that I could play the harmonica and the piano at the same time, so I went into the living room with the harmonica and sat down at the piano. Blew a C chord on the harp, and played a C note on the piano.

YUCK. That sounded AWFUL.

I couldn’t understand it - the harmonica was clearly marked “C” (this might be what gave me the idea to try them together). But the “C” on the harmonica didn’t sound good at ALL with the “C” on the piano.

Turns out the piano was tuned exactly one half-step flat. Possibly because it had spent most of its life in the salty air near the San Francisco Bay, and the soundboard had rotted just enough that it couldn’t keep strings at tension or pitch anymore. Tuning it so it at least played in tune with itself was a logical decision.

But it forever skewed my sense of what a “C” actually sounded like in my head. To this day, I refer to my condition as “IMPERFECT pitch”.

I did figure out that if I played a Db scale on the piano, it worked well with the harmonica, but it was too difficult to wrap my brain and hands around all of that when the piano was ten feet from the front door, and comings and goings were a constant distraction. So the harmonica went the way of the bread machine you got as a gift sometime around the turn of the 21st century: stashed away in a box, likely never again to see the light of day.

Not long after that, my mother asked me if I’d like to take piano lessons. Just out of the blue. I don’t even remember why she asked, or how she knew the person I was to take lessons from, but I thought it was a brilliant idea! A little structure, a little edification, learning to read and play actual songs instead of the meandering stuff I already knew how to do. Great! I’m sure I was one of the very few kids in my town who was excited about piano lessons. But I enjoyed them, and there’s no doubt they helped me many years down the road, as any professional musician who took piano lessons as a kid can attest to.

One day I was visiting a friend, who had been gifted an old nylon string guitar. He didn’t play it, keep it in tune, or want much of anything to do with it, really. I started messing around with it, and I realized that the frets were the same 1/2 steps I played on the piano! As long as I accounted for the “black keys” by jumping 2 frets instead of 1, I could play a major scale on any single string, no matter how it was tuned or not-tuned. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know how to tune a guitar; just seeing the relationship between frets and 1/2 steps was enough to make me see notes in a whole new light.

When I was trusted enough to ride my bike downtown (about 3.5 miles from home on roads with sketchy bike lanes), I began renting instruments for a month at a time to see if I could make them sound good. Woodwinds, mostly - clarinet, flute, alto sax. There was that same major scale, easy to play in one key, difficult to figure out in others, plus the weird keys weren’t logical - if I wanted a note to be sharp or flat, I had to press some random key that seemingly had nothing to do with the order of notes. It made no sense to me, I had no idea what I was doing, and at the end of the month, I traded it in for another instrument. This cycle of “lather, rinse, repeat” went on for several months until one day when my brother arrived home with a bass, a guitar, and a big amp.

The sound coming out of his bedroom was INCREDIBLE. Warm yet exciting, like a smoldering fire with a little bit more residual energy than is safe. I was totally enthralled - here was an instrument that I could see made sense already, sounded fabulous, and vaguely reminded me of the lowest notes on the upright piano. I said, “THAT’S what I wanna play!” But my mom said NO - she was not going to have her sons fighting over the same instrument, especially because we already fought over everything else. My brother chose bass first; I got to play the guitar instead.

Playing guitar was pretty cool, actually - it was a cheap japanese red Flying V knockoff, difficult to wield, barely stayed in tune, but it was COOL. A little distortion, a little reverb (only used sparingly because I hated hearing my mistakes echo), and I had a good time. I had my little practice area in the basement next to my brother’s bedroom, and I played an awful lot. But to be honest, it always felt a little… weak. Like trying to throw a cotton ball. Yes, you could get angry and loud, but there was something missing. And every so often, I’d get the urge to sneak into my brother’s room and play his new bass (the first was apparently just a rental) when he wasn’t around. And every so often, I’d get caught, and I’d get “scared straight” for a month or two (my brother was built like a Sherman tank, and I looked more like Chunk with long hair). But the urge would always return, and the cycle would repeat itself. Until one fateful day…

I was in 8th grade, and I took the bus to school. My brother went to the high school half a mile away, so he was always home first. So when I walked in the front door, I could hear his bass booming through the ductwork like always, and like always, that made me want to play my guitar. So, like always, I dumped my school bag, full of assignments that would be ignored until morning like always, by the door and headed for the basement.

I never noticed that the bass notes stopped at some point; all I remember is descending the short staircase that led to the lower level, making a sharp U-turn as I prepared to go down into the basement, and jumping back out of the way because A BASS was flying through the air, up the stairs, right at me. I was fast enough to avoid it, and it hit the floor HARD in front of me. I immediately peeked around the door jamb down the stairs, and saw my brother stomping towards his bedroom door.

So I called down: “Hey - do you want this bass anymore?”

My brother hollered “NOOOOOOO!” and slammed his bedroom door behind him.

I looked back at the bass, and thought, Great!  So I grabbed it and ran downstairs, plugged it into my guitar amp (quietly, I knew better), and for the first time in recorded history, played a bass in my house with something tantamount to permission.

And it was GLORIOUS. Bottom end! Like the piano upstairs, but BIGGER! Notes made sense, I could find my way around because I’d played guitar, and the stuff I’d been trying to play on those other instruments - piano, guitar, clarinet, sax, flute, recorder, even the harmonica - was much better suited for the electric bass, and I finally GOT that. Here was the sound I’d heard in my head for 10 years married to the notes I wanted to play for 10 years, and my fingers were causing it to happen.

And somewhere in that 23-minute span, I remember feeling - not hearing, feeling - a Voice in my head, and it spoke to me with absolute clarity: you remember this moment, because this is what you’re going to do with the rest of your life.

I say 23 minutes because I always got home at 3:20, it took about 2 minutes to shed my coat and bag and head downstairs, and my practice area clock said 3:45 when my brother tore open his door and came around the corner, snarling, “GIMME MY BASS BACK.” And so I did. But the wheels had been set in motion; 23 minutes of bass playing versus years of piano, guitar, and everything else… there was no contest.

So I talked things over with my mom (and mentioned in passing what my brother had done with his beautiful new bass), and that Christmas there was a wonderful new Ibanez Roadstar II bass and a Fender Bassman 20 amp. Within a week I had nickel-sized blisters on 7 different fingertips, and that wasn’t enough to get me to slow down. They started calling me Froggy Fingers when I went back to school after Christmas break. I didn’t care. I finally had to take a scissors to my blisters because callouses were forming over the top of them, the swelling wouldn’t go down, they didn’t hurt at all, and I could barely pick things up because my fingertips were so deformed. But away I went on the bass, spending 6-7 hours every night playing in my corner of the basement (and watching my already piss-poor grades get even worse - I graduated with an academic GPA of 1.6).

This was my solace; this was my everything. All the other things that had gone wrong or were currently going wrong in my life mattered a lot less once I had a bass to play. Maybe that’s why I played so much. There wasn’t much else going on for me to be excited about at that time in my life, and playing music - playing a BASS - gave me an outlet for my passion, my frustration, my energy, my creativity, and created a drive to improve and be really good at something for a change. And I knew it was going to happen because It Made Sense. It still does. Nearly 4 decades later, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

[tozierpunks]

Reddie 1

1. Soulmates AU: in which the first words your soulmate says to you will appear on your body when you both turn 16.

A/N: I’ve been so excited to do a soulmates au cause I’ve seen so many posts about it so thank you anon! Hopefully this is what you came for~

Eddie was not a violent person, not by any means. Sure, he could hold his own in a fight. He absolutely threw the first rock in many a rock war. His hands were dirtied and cut up from hours of working on his motorbike (a labor of love which surely gave poor Sonia a heart attack).

But there were some things a young man couldn’t take.

When Eddie loved something, he loved it.

Anyone who knew him could attest to how passionate he was about the things he loved. First it was flowers, then it was his bike, then it was his motorbike - and it didn’t stop at singular things. He was also an avid fan of books and movies. More than anything, he hated spoilers. Not one to be fooled, he avoided his best friend Richie (a walking spoiler alert) like the plague the day after one of their favorite shows aired.

This arrangement worked fine.

Everything was normal between them and their friend group.

Then Eddie turned sixteen. He woke up on November third, surprised to see a small stack of presents from his parents, and birthday pancakes waiting for him on the table. Sixteen was a big year though. His first car, his first job... his soulmate. Sonia and Frank were eager to see what his words were, and they were doing an awful job at hiding it.

“Morning sweetheart! Big day today, huh?” Sonia nearly sang as she fried more bacon for Frank. He peered over his newspaper, offering Eddie his silly smile.

“I guess... sixteen,” he said, unable to fight the grin. He stole glances at his arms, disappointed to see the words hadn’t appeared. With his luck, they’d probably be somewhere hard to find. His whole life was spent praying they wouldn’t be on his butt.

Only making it halfway through breakfast, Eddie quickly ran back upstairs to shower and get ready for school. Using every ounce of discipline in his body, he waited until after bathing to check.

Holding his breath, he peeked through one eye to study the skin, and there it was! Fresh on his hip, he read-

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Eddie screeched, causing Sonia and Frank to look up from their breakfast. Sonia was immediately concerned, but she had no time to ask. Eddie, his hair still wet and dripping onto his shirt, sprinted out the door. She hardly had time to scuttle to the door before his motorbike revved up and he was speeding to school.

Bored out of his mind, Richie tossed out old papers littering his locker. He hated taking the bus to school; it brought him here too early and took him home too late. Maybe he’d ask Eddie for a ride when the final bell rang.

Maybe he’d ask what Eddie thought of his new tattoo.

You son of a bitch! was tattooed across his forearm, and he couldn’t help but snicker when he noticed it this morning. He figured this meant one of two people: Greta Bowie or Sally Mueller. It sucked, but soulmates sometimes decided not to get together, and it worked out fine for them.

Sighing, Richie perked up when he heard Eddie’s bike outside. The advantages of having a locker so close to the doors were endless. He was the first one out, and the first to know Eddie arrived on that loud as all hell bike.

Searching the locker for where he set his book, he lifted it up, waving to Eddie as he approached. They were reading the Harry Potter series together, and Richie finally finished the sixth book last night.

“Can you believe Dumbledore dies-”“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Eddie tackled Richie, pinning him to the floor. His eyes widened, and a smile stretched across his face, even as Eddie throttled him.

Looks like I will be staying with my soulmate, he thought, grinning like an idiot while Eddie seethed.

[southside-vixen]

Fire and Ice (Sweet Pea) 3

Chapter 3. Hold My Beer

AO3

Adrianna Rivera has just made a difficult move from Arizona to the southside of Riverdale. With the history of her life in Phoenix behind her will she be able to find a new family in the Southside Serpents? Or will a certain tall, dark, and rage inducing Serpent cause issues?

A couple weeks passed since the debacle at Pop’s. Things were quiet for the most part. Adria and Sweet Pea ignored each other like their lives depended on it. The worst being the history class that she only shared with him. But overall things were improving. She and Toni were growing closer, and she was also spending quite a bit of time with her new neighbor. When he wasn’t spending time with the enemy that is.

“Thanks for the ride home, Fangs.” Adria handed his spare helmet back to him

“Of course, Ads. We’re next door neighbors, why wouldn’t I give you a ride home?”

“Ugh. That’s going to stick isn’t it? I guess I don’t hate it.” She shivered as she watched Fangs put his bike under the car park next to his trailer “I don’t know how you guys live here. With all this…weather.”

Fangs laughed “If you owned anything aside from crop tops and ripped jeans maybe you’d survive. Not like I’m complaining, it’s a good look.” He winked at her. There was no way she would be able to buy an entire new wardrobe with her budget of 0 dollars. She’d have to ask Ness if she had anything she could use. The idea of using hand me downs was definitely a hard one to get used to.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow” Adria smiled and walked into her new home to see Ness sitting on the couch, the screams coming from the TV indicating she was catching up on the old horror movies she loved so much.

“Hey, Ness. Can I ask you something?” Adria threw her purse down on one of the kitchen chairs and plopped down in the chair next to her aunt

“Yeah of course” Ness sat up and paused the TV, causing the room to go silent “What’s up, buttercup?”

“Well. The weather here sucks and I have nothing to deal with it. The warmest thing I own are some thin sweaters.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah your crop tops aren’t gonna keep you warm for much longer. I think I have some old clothes from a few years ago in the basement that I never got around to getting rid of. Let me bust ‘em out and we’ll wash what you want and finally donate what you don’t. You look to be about my size when I was a few years younger.”

Adria looked at Ness, her aunt looked more like her than her own mother did. At least from what she could see from pictures. Even some of the older Serpent members had mentioned that she looked like Ness from high school.

“I didn’t know we even had a basement. Or that trailers had basements in general.”

“Cool it with the classism, Penthouse Barbie” Ness laughed “First off, this is a double wide. Second, it’s a glorified crawl space filled with cobwebs. Not a place for late night parties. Don’t worry though, I’ll clean the spiders off the bags before I bring them up.”

“I really didn’t need to know about the spiders” Adria shuddered “And I don’t think anyone’s called me a Barbie before.”

“You’re a beautiful girl, Adrianna. I would know since you look nearly identical to me when I was your age.” Ness flashed a smile and got up from her seat “I’ll be right back”

Adria watched as Ness opened a door in the hallway and disappeared behind it. She settled into her phone looking at all the photos her old friends were posting on Instagram. Pictures of their recent trip to some new exclusive club in Las Angeles. Sitting in the VIP area with bottle service. She missed her old life more than anything. Brunch with her father on Sundays, Friday nights with the girls at a different club each weekend. In Riverdale her fake ID would get her nowhere, not like the Wrym carded anyone anyway.

A long sigh escaped her lips, it was easier to pretend her new life was fine when she avoided social media. None of her old ‘friends’ contacted her after her father’s trip to prison. The isolation from her old group was hard to cope with, but none of them had any loyalty to her. Hell, she wouldn’t even be surprised if they were close to her because of her family and her money. She wanted to believe that people here were different, even if they only reason they were around her initially was at her aunt’s request.

“Something wrong?” Ness threw two large black trash bags of clothes onto the floor and shut the basement door behind her

“Just in my own head, I guess.” Adria put her phone back into her pocket “When do you think my dad’ll be able to call from prison? It’s been about a couple weeks now.”

“He’s probably just settling in and spending most of his time with his lawyers, I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.” She brought the bags to the living room and dumped their contents onto the ground. There was loads of blacks and greys with some dark blues and greens thrown in here and there. Adria plopped herself on the floor and began sorting through the sea of flannel and leather. Finding anything that stood out to her. It wasn’t her style at all, but then again Toni rocked it so maybe she could too.

“I don’t think your classmates will give you as much shit with all this. You’ll look the part of a Southside High student. Ness said “Just remember, it’s just for the colder seasons. If it’s really that bad we can check out the local thrift stores but we definitely don’t have the budget to match the clothes you brought.”

“I know, Ness. I understand.” Adria had resigned herself that this might be the case on the bus ride in. She felt a bit like Alice falling down the rabbit hole at times. Riverdale was an entirely new world and she was determined to show she was strong. Even if that meant sucking it up and wearing hand me downs and thrift store finds. Hell, she would even make them look good.

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

The next day Adria walked into school in her ‘new’ clothes she received from Ness. After careful consideration in the mirror that morning she decided on ripped jeans, a black tank top, dark green flannel, and to top it off- her aunt’s old, patch free, leather jacket.

For once, she blended. No Ghoulies looked at her like she was an injured deer waiting to be gutted. It was actually pretty refreshing. She sat down at her lab table for chemistry and plopped down her bags. Conveniently enough she had chemistry with Fangs. Not like it was great for either of their grades since they were both terrible at it.

“Ads?” She lifted her head to see Fangs standing wide eyed at the end of the table “Shit. You almost look like a completely different person.”

“I look like an idiot, don’t I? I knew I couldn’t pull off flannel and leather.”

“You look like a Serpent. Pretty impressive transformation for overnight. It’s a good look for you.” He set down his bag and sat next to her “You shouldn’t worry so much about appearances. They don’t matter as much as you think they do.”

Adria breathed a sigh of relief “Yeah, I’ll try. Just difficult when I feel like a kid playing dress up.”

“You’re overthinking it. It’s just clothes.”

He was probably right. Just clothes, she was still the same Adria. Even if she was wearing flannel, something she swore never to do. But it was for warmth. Not because she was trying to be something she wasn’t. Nope, same Adria. Just in a leather jacket. That was it.

By the time she arrived to lunch the table was already buzzing.

“Hey, guys. What’s going on?” Adria took a seat next to Toni. The conversation died immediately after she arrived, and more than one person’s jaw dropped to the ground.

“Ads?” Toni asked, a smile creeping on her face “Damn, girl you look great! Fangs said you had a makeover but this is something else.”

“I told you it was a good look!” Fangs walked over and slung his arm around her shoulder “what do you think Sweet Pea?”

Oh no. This is exactly what she didn’t want right now. He would open his mouth and all of her self-doubt that had been easing away over the course of the day would come flooding back.

For a long moment Sweet Pea didn’t say anything

“She certainly looks the part”

Adria was in awe. It wasn’t an outright insult. Sure, it was vaguely implied but it wasn’t outright malicious.

“Okay then” Toni nodded with a smile, “Anyway big news, Ads. Starting tomorrow you won’t be the new kid anymore.”

”What, really? Who is it? Do you know them?” Adria was more than excited to not be the newest one in the group. Maybe it would get Sweet Pea to lay off her once he had someone else to take his anger out on.

“Forsyth Pendleton Jones the Third. FP Jones’ son.”

“Who’s that?” Adria looked around at the rest of the table. Clearly everyone else knew what was going on.

“He’s the leader of the Serpents. Well. Kind of. He’s in jail right now.” Fangs responded

“Figures she doesn’t know the name of the leader of the gang she’s trying to imitate.” Sweet Pea swept some of his hair out of his face “She may look the part but she’s still not one of us.”

“Fine.” Adria slammed her hand down on the table “What do I need to do to prove to you that I have what it takes?”

“Tomorrow. The quarry. We’ll figure something out.” Pea stared back at her across the table. She was at the end of her rope dealing with his attitude. She would do whatever the idiot wanted to prove herself worthy to be part of his stupid little group. The stupid little group that was starting to mean a lot more to her than she initially planned.

The next day came quicker than she would have liked. Sure enough, Toni was absent most of the morning showing around the newest member of their group the school. She didn’t see her again until she was able to pull her into the bathroom after English.

“Toni, what did I agree to?” She looked around to make sure no one was around to hear her fear “I was up all night worried about what the hell that douchebag is going to have me do”

“Okay. Calm down and take a deep breath”

She did as Toni instructed

“You’re going to be fine. It won’t be as bad as you think, I promise. That’s all I can tell you as I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

Toni’s reassurance didn’t make her feel any better. She greeted the newest member at lunch, Jughead Jones. He seemed nice enough, although she couldn’t focus on anything aside from what might be happening at the quarry. The sand in the clock ran out much quicker than she would have liked. Before she knew it she was on the back of Fang’s bike on the way to the quarry. The only promise that Toni and Sweet Pea would meet them there.

“How are you feeling?” Fangs asked once they had finally arrived. The quarry was too cold for swimming this time of year. Adria walked over to the fire pit that he was trying to start. Waiting for something to warm her up.

“Nervous. But you have to promise not to tell that pompous asshole you call your best friend.” She whispered harshly. More of the Serpents she didn’t really talk to were starting to show up and her nerves continued to grow. She had genuinely hoped it would just be the four of them.

“I won’t say a word. Promise.” He put a hand on her shoulder and ushered her to a fold up chair by the fire.

It seemed like ages before Toni and Sweet Pea showed up. When they finally did they brought enough booze to drown a small family.

“Hope you’re ready for what’s to come, Princess.” Sweet Pea walked over and put an entire bottle of whiskey into her hands “This one’s yours. Better get started.”

This was it? Her task was to drink a bottle of whiskey on her own? This was like an average Tuesday back in her old life. This was going to be much easier than she thought.

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

Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs were all in awe about how much the small framed city girl could put away. She drank her entire bottle of whiskey without even batting an eye, then had a couple swigs from Fang’s bottle. By the end of her bender she was sitting on Toni’s lap, giggling at just about anything that was anyone said. Sure everyone else had been drinking, but she was the drunkest girl at the party by far.

“So is this it?” Adria slurred “This is nothinggggg” she laughed, throwing her head back. She barely missed bashing Toni in the nose.

“I think she’s ready” Toni peeked around her friend at the guys

“Alright, Ads. Welcome to your trial” Fangs said, trying to be serious although he was also clearly drunk.

“We don’t keep secrets in the Serpents so your first task is to go around and tell us all what you really think of us” Sweet Pea stared her down from across the fire “Let’s start easy. With what you think of Toni Topaz.”

Adria looked turned to look at Toni and smiled

“Toni Topaz. I first thought you were a huuuuuuge bitch. But you’re so nice!” Adria’s grin grew “You’re a precious angel in what I thought would be a hell hole. I love you, Toni. You’re such a good friend” she grabbed her friend around the neck and gave her a huge hug, listening to a small chorus of ‘awww’ around them.

They went around while she gave her opinion of the other Serpents that were there, not like it was much considering she barely talked to most of them. They were all superficial drunk ramblings. Then it brought around to the end, with only Fangs and Sweet Pea left.

“Fangs…Don’t think I don’t notice you’re a huge pervert” She laughed “But you’re cute so I forgive you. Thanks for being around and helping me feel like I have a home here”

“Cute, huh?” Fangs laughed and gave her a wink

“Not gonna happen.”

“Well. We’ve saved the best for last Ads. Tell us exactly how you feel about Sweet Pea.”

This one was a doozy and everyone around the circle knew it. They had been watching for weeks as the two barely spoke and when they did everyone around them prepared to break up a fight.

“Sweet Pea, huh?” Adria’s smile faded as she locked eyes with him across the flames “Sweet Pea is the biggest dick I’ve ever met. I have no idea what is issue is with me as I’ve done literally nothing to him. This is all made significantly more infuriating by his face. His stupid attractive face.”

Adria stopped dead in her tracks. The whole idea of the gathering was that getting her outrageously drunk she would speak exactly what was on her mind. And sure enough she did, even the things she had shoved way in the back. The murmurs around the circle had gone completely silent as everyone stared at her.

“This has been so much fun. Toni, can you take me home now?” she looked at her friend pleadingly.

“Well, there is one more thing Ads.” Toni gave her a half-hearted smile as she pushed her off her lap

“Strip.” One of the other Serpents said, she was pretty sure his name was Andre.

“What?” Adria looked back at Toni “This is a joke right?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ll help hold you up” and she did. Toni held Adria’s arm as she removed all her clothing down to her bra and underwear.

“Fine. Now what?” She demanded, her buzz quickly wearing off with the cold and fear settling in

“Now you jump in the quarry. Show us how tough you are” Sweet Pea stood up from his seat “That’s what you wanted, right? A chance to prove yourself?”

Adria looked down, it was only about a 10 foot jump into the water. The incredibly cold water. She was already shivering, even with all the alcohol. She looked back at Toni who gave her a small nod, urging her to just get it over with. So she did.

Adria took a deep breath as she ran and jumped, doing her best to brace herself during the small fall for her fate. But it wasn’t enough. The cold water hit like daggers and took her breath away. At least she thought it did but the scream she heard echoing through the air sounded a lot like her own. When she regained her composure she noticed Fangs standing on the edge of the water, his hand outstretched.

She swam over and her friend lifted her out of the water, placing his jacket over her shoulders. Trying to rub her arms to warm her up

“You killed it Ads, you looked tough. Screaming and all.” Fangs smiled “Let’s get you by the fire”

Fangs walked her back to the small beacon of heat as everyone around her cheered and gave her pats on the back. She stood in front the fire with another bottle of whiskey trying to warm herself up before putting her clothes on

“Holy shit, I’m glad that’s over.” Adria lamented to Toni while she put her clothes back on “I’ve never been that cold in my life”

“You held up really well. Especially for someone who just arrived from the southwest a few weeks ago. There’s no way Sweet Pea can deny you’re tougher than you look now” She took the bottle from Adria and took a couple of swigs herself.

“Speaking of, where is the devil incarnate?” Adria asked, scouting the clearing which had erupted into a full blown party now that they were done with her ‘trial’. She didn’t see him anywhere and she had a drunken bone to pick.

“Last I knew he went to take a piss in the woods. Why, what’s up?”

“Funny coincidence. I also have to take a piss. In the woods. Right now. Be right back!” Toni stood, confused, as Adria all but ran to the tree line. What in the hell was she doing?

Adria reached the trees and glanced around. She found a couple people who snuck away from the fire to go make out in the privacy of the trees. She ignored them and continued her search for who she was actually looking for. And she found him. Sweet Pea had turned around from a tree outside of everyone’s view and was zipping up his pants when Adria spotted him.

“You!” she yelled “I need to talk to you”

Sweet Pea stood dumbfounded as she strolled right up to him, chest to chest as she stared into his eyes.

“Why do you hate me for no reason? And yes, it is no reason because you’ve never even bothered to have a conversation with me.”

Sweet Pea just stared down at her for a few seconds. He was at a loss for words and the booze wasn’t helping.

“I know exactly your type. Girls like you think they can get whatever they want because they have money. But not here, Princess. Not with me or the Serpents.” He didn’t take his eyes off her

“You’ve never met a girl like me.” Aria attempted to stand on her tip toes to look taller and more imposing but she failed miserably. She was far too drunk to be taken seriously. She teetered back and her reflexes were all but gone. She made no attempt to catch herself as she fell backward.

Sweet Pea instinctively grabbed Adria’s arm to keep her from falling and pulled her back up, securing her with a hand behind her waist. Adria looked up, both of them looking shocked at the other. She could hardly feel the pain in her shoulder from being yanked so hard.

For some reason neither of them moved to correct the issue. Later, both of them would blame being too drunk. Adria stared up at the boy she told herself she absolutely despised. Hands grasping his arms. His incredibly toned arms. And then there was yelling.

“Ads?” she heard Toni yell “Please don’t be dead in a ditch” Toni turned the corner to see two people up against a tree, the dark obscuring their faces. “Have either of you seen Adria? She’s been gone for far too long.”

Both of them moved too slowly to have avoided it. Sweet Pea quickly pushed Adria back and she whipped herself around to face Toni. Both of them looking incredibly guilty.

“Uh. Hey…Toni.” Adria stood in front of Sweet Pea, putting her hands behind her back “Is it time to go home?”

[myyearinhonduras-blog]

Part 2: The bad...

So, like with anything, there are good days and bad days. I have to say, the majority of our days/ experiences were good but there were a select few that tested us and that we’d rather not relive.

The one with the infection

So, as you may have already read, when we went volcano boarding, we had to wear onsies to protect us from flying rocks as we slid down the hill. We had to tie these onesies tightly around our ankles and our wrists. Despite tying them tightly I still managed to get pretty scratched up on the way down. However, not as badly as Lucy. As soon as we were down she was in pain and upon pulling her trouser leg up, we saw two, perfectly circular scrapes. It wasn’t a huge deal at the time but because it was so humid when we got to Ometepe, it was impossible for the scrapes to get dry and scab. Everyone we met would wince and ask what could have happened. They looked like two cheese pizzas at one point. By the time we were in Laguna de Apoyo, her legs were looking really infected and she was feeling terribly. Sara and Jesse ended up taking her to the hospital and after a round of antibiotics the cuts started to heal and now she just has two perfectly round circles on the back of her calves.

The one with the crash (or three)

While we were on Isla de Ometepe, we decided it would be a good idea to rent mopeds to get to a waterfall hike. We didn't take into account that none of us had ever ridden mopeds or anything like them before and not even the whole group had their driving licenses. After a few tries, the people renting them to us decided that we were good to go and, in fairness, if the road had been smooth the whole way, I think we would have been fine. But, the road was smooth for about twenty minutes out of the hour. Almost as soon as we hit the dirt track, Jesse and Lucy slipped off their bikes. They weren’t too awful injured and after a little recuperation time, we were back on the track with Lucy on the back of my bike and Calum and Tom driving the other girls. We managed to get to the waterfall after about an hour (should have taken about 20 minutes) with only one more casualty: the stand on my bike had fallen off after I went over a big rock.

When we finally got to the place where we were to climb the falls, we were told that the hike would take 3 hours and we had to get the bikes back before then. So, we decided to have a swim in the lake and then head back. It was then that Tom discovered that there was no moped key at the end of his keychain. We looked around for about 30 minutes and finally found it in a plant. Just as we were leaving I crashed into the wall with Lucy on the back. Now my bike was scratched too. By the time we caught up with everyone we had crashed again and my stand came all the way off and we met a man that told us that we should get it fixed before we went back to avoid heavy fees when we took the bikes back. So we headed to a mechanic who fixed the stand, filled our tanks and spray painted over the damage. He also offered to take Tom and I up Maderas the next day for $20 which was a lot cheaper than we had seen around the island. We drove back to the bike shop and were told that we were going to have to pay $60 in repairs. When we argued, they told us the price had gone up to $100 then one of the men took Jesse’s iPod and wouldn't return it. Eventually, the boss came out and was a lot more reasonable. After a lot of debate, we eventually paid the $60 and walked away. Though it was one of the more expensive days and we didn’t do much, we all agreed that it was one of the best days that we had in Nicaragua.

The one with the waterfall

If you’ve already read volume one of the “The good” then you’ll know that we had to go to San Jose for a few days after the waterfall in Montezuma. There were two reasons for this. After I jumped off, I was trying to get back up to the top, lost my footing and fell off onto the rocks underneath. And, after she jumped off, climbed back up, climbed back down to the town, Jesse’s back pain became unbearable so she called an Ambulance.

I was completely fine immediately after it happened, just a little shocked. I swam over to the side with just a sore foot. As time passed though, my foot became a lot more sore and it became apparent that I wasn’t going to be able to climb back up to the others, let a lone back down to the town. So, we waited for about an hour while a rescue team came to help us.

The first man that came was the guy that was going to help get me out of the falls. Then a paramedic came with the morphine. I must have had quite a lot because there’s a few pictures of me with a massive smile on my face. They attached a rope to the back board that I was on and kind of shuffled me up the side of the falls. After being almost dry it was really cold to get back into the water and all of my friends lost their towels. There was another pool to get over once we were up the middle fall. The man was trying his hardest to get us across as quickly as possible but he almost drowned me as we crossed the last little bit. Then, I was carried up a lot of stairs by 14 men and eventually put into an ambulance. We spent a while at the local clinic while we were getting conformation from our insurance that they would cover us to be transported by plane to a hospital in San Jose, the capital. They said they would and we were taken to an airstrip. Sara and I in one plane and Jesse and Lucy in the other. The ride took about 30 minutes and when we got to the Emergency room they told us that I wouldn’t need to have surgery and  that I needed to wear a boot for the next month. Jesse also had a very attractive corset that she had to wear for the month after they found out that she had fractured her T-8 vertebrae.

We stayed the night in the Hospital and moved to a hotel the next morning. The boys were absolutely incredible and managed to bring all of our bags (I have 4 bags alone) to the hotel where we stayed for three nights just relaxing, doing some retail therapy at the MALL and watching movies in the theater at the MALL.

We’re all pretty much healed now, I got off my crutches in San Juan del Sur (Sunday Funday with one foot was interesting) and Jesse and I left our “accessories” in Utila. I wouldn’t run on it but I just did a surf lesson on it today so it’s not stopped me from doing too much and the boot turned out to be a great conversation starter!

The ones with the border crossings from hell

Border crossings aren’t generally that enjoyable, you wait in line for hours, usually have to pay more than you were expecting, usually have to walk further than you were expecting and as a result, end up in a new country exhausted and with no money.

Our first bad experience was from Nicaragua - Costa Rica.

There was no way to get to the boarder in a bus so we had to take a taxi and as soon as we pulled up we were swarmed by people asking for our passports and writing what looked like boarder crossing tickets. They wanted $10 for each ticket so we paid and asked for change. They said they were just going off to get our money and never came back. So, note to self, don’t give your passport or any money to people without being told by the guards that we needed too.

Turns out they weren’t boarder crossing tickets at all but bus ticket forms for a bus we weren’t getting on.

Though I said that the ankle hasn’t stopped me from doing much, the crutches did make traveling a bit more awkward than it should have been. The most awkward occurred at the boarder crossing as we were coming back into Nicaragua from Costa Rica. We really don’t like this boarder.  

Jesse and Lucy had to leave us because Lucy’s card had been swallowed in Montezuma (we really didn’t have much luck there) so they went to retrieve it. The boys, also had to leave us because after we got off our first bus, Calum realized that he’d left his wallet back in Manuel Antonio. So Sara and I decided to tackle the boarder by ourselves.

I couldn’t take my big bag so Sara had my bag on her front, her own big bag on her back and her smaller valuables bag in her hand. This particular boarder crossing was 500m long and we’re always trying to save money where we can so we didn’t want to get in a taxi across.

Another perk of the boot was that I got to go to the front of all the queues but Sara didn’t. At one point I was through to the final part of the crossing and Sara was told she was going to have to wait outside in the boiling hot sun until she got to the front of the line... which was about 100 miles long. The guard eventually let her in but not before an angry woman made it very clear that she and her family should be let in before. Anyway, I ditched the crutches as soon as we got to San Juan so none of the other borders were quite so bad.

The one with the exam

That one would be me. After essentially bombing my chemistry A level, I still really wanted to go to Queens to do nutrition so after talking to the head of the admissions for a while, he decided that I would be able to get in if I achieved the equivalent of B on the SAT chemistry, then I would be offered a place.

All the way back in November we booked the test to be in Guatemala City because we worked out that we would be nearish to there by the time of the test. (Just so happened that we were only 45 minutes away). So, while we’ve been traveling I’ve been trying to fit studying in where I could and trying not to miss anything at the same time. Long bus journeys are great places to study. While the others were in lake Atitlan, I stayed in a hotel room for 2 days cramming information into my head. It all culminated 5 days ago on the 21st of January at 9am. I think it was okay but we’ll find out in 5 weeks!

Quick tip for all my heavy packers out there: YOU DO NOT NEED ALL OF THAT. YOUR BACK WILL HURT, YOUR FRIENDS WILL HATE YOU WHEN YOU ASK THEM TO HELP YOU OUT AND YOU WILL LOOSE EVERYTHING, INCLUDING YOUR WILL TO LIVE. Trust me. 

[cbshadowkat]

Reasons (Two)

Two. - Sam. The definition of a bully. I haven't forgiven you to this day and I probably never will. You showed up in middle school. Occasionally bullied me, but then that was the cool thing to do. Everyone else did it. You were just another face on the block to move down from Virginia. It was normal. The sickening part though was that I couldn't escape you. Or your friends. It was one thing at school, on the bus. You'd steal my stuff. Even my saxophone, it disappeared one time by your hand and I had a meltdown. My phone. My books. Anything you could get from me while I was looking out the window. But at home on the streets were worse. For years I'd already had to deal with a group of friends who roamed the streets of South Mills constantly. When I rode my bike, it was with apprehension and fear. Point a to point b. If I was down at the locks, I dreaded it even more to see you come down the street, because technically there was only one way in and out of the locks. (Later I found the back way that took me about a half a mile away from my house.) I would try to ride by you as fast as possible and every time I'd hear the jeers and insults thrown at me. It got to the point I'd just leave town to hang out with my best friend. But as I raced through the streets it was always a game of hide and seek. I stopped at every corner and hid before continuing on, or I'd avoid a street I thought you were on. I lived in fear every time I left my front door. That wasn't enough for you. I remember more than once, I'd be trying to race by and one of you would jump in front of my bike and actually make me crash into the ground hard. I almost broke bones a couple times. And you'd get in my face and try to make me fight you. Punching and kicking me, spitting in my face. Taking my things and throwing them in the canal. But that was pathetic compared to freshman year. It was my fifteenth birthday. Literally. That day. I remember it so vividly it hurts. It was between third and fourth class, and my best friend and I were at our lockers talking. She wished me a happy birthday just as you came around the corner. I remember your words clearly. "Don't nobody give a fuck about your birthday. You weren't even supposed to be born!" And then you sidled up to my best friend. The girl who would later become my fiancé, and later still my ex fiancé. You put a possessive hand on her waist, and despite her obviously disgusted scowl, tried to talk to her. Not because you liked her. No. You bullied her once or twice too, just for being friends with me. But you hated me far more than her, and she was there for you to use against me. I told you to get your fucking hands off of her. And you turned to me. "I'll put my hands where I fucking please" you said as you pushed me roughly into my locker. You put your hands on me. And I saw red. You threatened someone I already cared about. I was not okay with that. I swung at you as hard as I could. I remember the soft thud as I hit you square in the mouth and split your lip. I'm told you had stitches for that. Who cares. I remember the smug grin on my face and the shock and awe on yours. I hadn't been in a fight in two years; I was supposed to be making my parents proud. Oops. You grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me into the lockers on the opposite side of the wall. It hurt me enough that I fell down, because the locker knobs jabbed into my back. You laughed and tried to turn away and run. But I was quicker than you. I got up and locked my arms around your neck. I might have even choked you to death then and there, because I was so far gone in my anger it never occurred to me to let go. But I was never handed that opportunity. I don't know how you did it. When you couldn't dislodge me, you tried something else. You flipped me over your shoulder and my head hit the concrete floor. I blacked out and there was blood. My best friend, the one you hit on? She told me the rest. She told me how you laughed. You LAUGHED and said out loud that you might have just killed me. That I might be dead. You ran into your favorite teacher's classroom swearing and saying you thought you killed this bitch. That was when the teachers finally came. And the nurse. They had to fight through a ring of students blocking the hall who had been cheering the fight on. I had another friend tell me how they picked me up and had to carry me down the hall, how my head hung and bled, and how there was still blood on the floor from where I had laid. How my eyes had been open, and seemed like I looked right at her, except they were glassy and vacant. Even she thought I was dead. The girl you hit on? She got pushed back at the end of the fight. The last thing she saw was me airborne. People came into her class after they dispersed saying I was dead. And she broke down. You traumatized both of my friends with that. Obviously I wasn't dead. But I wasn't there. I still remember to this day what I saw, and what convinced me that there is some sort of afterlife that I have no desire to greet anytime soon. I was more than relieved when I woke up in the nurses office to see my dad. I had a severe concussion and I was pretty confused for a while. But I survived. I tried to press charges on you. I took you to court. That striped jumpsuit looked so appropriate on you, it really should have been your only attire. When I was called to the stand to give my testimony, I faltered. You locked gazes with me and I was stricken with fear again. With tears in my eyes I stumbled through my testimony. They asked so many questions I got turned around. I was only fifteen. How could I know that I destroyed any hope of conviction by admitting to fighting too? They never saw your hands on me as the first punch. My swing and your split lip was apparently the cause of it. I provoked you. In light of my severe head injury the dropped the case altogether. You disappeared for a while. Later I heard that you had been kicked out for something to do with drugs. And that even landed you in jail for a while. You came back to school in my junior year, just for a little bit before you dropped out and moved away. And then I never saw or heard from you again. But the damage you did still haunts me at times. As much as I tried to fight it, I was guilty of being guarded and avoiding any man of color. It took a fantastic friend of mine in Charlotte to finally break that habit. I cherish him dearly for that, though I doubt he knows. He's the exact opposite of you, and he proved to me that not everyone is the same. But he shouldn't have had to. You should never have gotten away with what you did.

[vdbstore-blog]

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'I loved being part of that scene': 80s style tribes, then and now | Music

Carrie Kirkpatrick and Gill Soper, skinheads (above)

Carrie I got into punk at the age of 12, and went quite wild with it. It was a means of escape from difficult situations at home. I found it empowering; going to gigs and drinking and taking drugs was exciting. I felt free; but I was getting into trouble with the police.

There was a skinhead revival going on, and Gill suggested we get into that instead. Skinheads were more structured, not so wild. We wore smart clothes, we had perfect hair and nails.

I grew up in south London, surrounded by rightwing views. The area had seen a lot of immigration and it was very much a “them and us” attitude. I spent a lot of time making sure I deprogrammed my conditioning around racism. When you’re in a subculture as a kid, you’re doing it for the social scene, for the music, and to find yourself. In your 30s, 40s and 50s, it’s different: you can have shared interests with others, but you don’t have to do everything with them. Your relationships are more sophisticated.

When I showed the original photograph to my son, who is 11, he said, “You don’t look very happy!” But I wasn’t unhappy; I loved being part of that scene. I suppose we were just trying to look hard, weren’t we?

Carrie Kirkpatrick (left) and Gill Soper outside the toilets in Crystal Palace, London, in November 1980 (top) and April 2017 (above). All photographs: Anita Corbin

Gill Between 1978 and 1979, there were so many subcultures to choose from: punk, disco, reggae, mod, 2 Tone. I was a punk originally, but I couldn’t go the whole hog, because I was also into disco. If you turned up at a disco with a blue mohican, you wouldn’t be so welcome.

When you’re young, you latch on to the newest thing, which for us was being a skinhead. Everyone I knew was a punk one day, and then shaving their head and wearing jeans and braces the next.

It was the clothes that drew me. Well, it was the boys to start with, closely followed by the clothes and the music and the attitude. We all had suits made. There were the shirts, the feather cuts, the shoes.

My daughter was born not long after the original picture was taken, and I was “normal” for a while before turning skin again in my 20s. I was clearing out my mum’s house recently and found pictures of my daughter with a feather cut in primary school. She hates me for that. She stayed with my mum a bit, because by that time I had got into scooters and Northern Soul. I’m still into it: it’s a friendly scene and very tight-knit.

I’m 54 now, and things have definitely turned a corner for women my age. Of course, if you want to blend in, you can, but many women have been given a new lease of life. Your experience of age is what you make it, really. I’m going to the hairdressers right now, in fact, I’m having a feather cut and getting it dyed bright red.

‘I still like to be different. I live in a mobile home. I don’t have a TV. I avoid supermarkets’

Shelley Spencer and Di Sage, punks

Shelley Spencer (left) and Di Sage in the toilets at the White Swan, Crystal Palace, in November 1980

Shelley I grew up just outside Croydon in south London. One night, when I was 14, I was at the bus stop on my way to a social club and saw my first punks. One of them had lots of black makeup on, and the other had spiky hair and ripped clothes held together with safety pins. I remember thinking, “Wow.” Over that summer, 1977, I went from riding bikes and horses to going out with my sister and the Croydon Punks. It was huge fun.

I crimped my hair before work every day. I was working at the dole office in King’s Cross and you’d sometimes get musicians coming in to sign on. Dave Vanian from The Damned came in once. I said, “My sister enjoyed your gig last night!” He got all nervous and said, “We don’t get paid, you know,” worried that I would shop him.

Di and I met at school and used to go out three or four nights a week, but we lost touch when I went travelling. After 14 years, we reconnected. Since 2002, I’ve lived in rural France. I look at photos of me as a punk and think, “Ooh, I was quite gorgeous”, and realise that modern society’s view of women in their 50s is very negative.

What the past 36 years has taught me is that you are yourself, whatever else you do. You are not your children’s mother. You are not simply a wife. It is so important to put time aside to remember who you are.

Shelley Spencer (left) and Di Sage in Angoulême, France, in May 2017

Di When I was 17, I had a lot of fire in me. I’d do leaflet drops for the British Union For The Abolition Of Animal Vivisection. As part of a Stop The City protest, us punks would go to phone boxes and all call a number in the City at nine on a Monday morning, so the switchboards were jammed.

Being a punk provided a sense of belonging and of being different. It was fresh, exciting, fiery – and loud. Live music was a huge part of it.

I remember standing at a bus stop with my mother, and people would call me names across the street and she would get upset. People saw punk as aggressive, but I was just expressing myself. I was shy, but I liked to shock.

You’d not be seen dead with your hair flat. You’d do your best, even if it was raining, with a tin of hairspray and an umbrella. I still like to be different. I live in a mobile home, I don’t have a telly, I avoid supermarkets. I am not materialistic. I teach yoga now, and my students can’t believe I used to smoke and take recreational drugs. Yoga is my community and family; like punk, it’s about expressing yourself from the inside.

‘I remember thinking I was going to marry a mod, have a mod house and mod babies’

Tessa Morton and Charlotte Wager, mods

Charlotte Wager (left) and Tessa Morton at Tessa’s parents’ home in Highgate, London, in March 1981

Tessa We got into a 60s crowd when we were 16 and 17. Then we got into the scooter crowd. We loved that it was edgy; we didn’t want people to see that we were middle class. We wanted to be seen as a bit Quadrophenia, then we’d go home to nice Sunday lunches and warm beds and parents who didn’t quite know what we’d been up to.

We were really into 60s Motown, and boys with scooters were part of that scene. We had to be on the back of their scooters, because the good clubs were dotted all over London. Then Charlotte and I got our own scooters, and it became part of ouridentity. I remember thinking I was going to marry a mod, have a mod house and mod babies.

I’d tell my parents I was staying at Charlotte’s when in fact we were down in Brighton for the weekend. I still remember walking into a club and seeing a roomful of people saying, “Oh, Tessa and Charlotte are here!” We were very visible. I still don’t follow the rules. I don’t have cushions that match my curtains, I don’t follow recipes, and I don’t force my children to go to ballet. I want to be myself, to be authentic.

Charlotte Wager (left) and Tessa Morton at Tessa’s parents’ home in Highgate, London, in January 2014

Charlotte I live in Chicago now, and Tessa is in Warwickshire, but we have stayed close. I remember what it felt like to be a mod: exciting, part of a team; it was something you looked forward to, planned for, dressed up for.

In the 1980s, I became a CND youth leader. I was very into political activism, campaigning and organising marches. There was a bit of tension between that and the mod scene.

I spent the 1990s studying and working, first in London, and then at law school in the US. I was a young professional in Chicago, learning how to be a lawyer, becoming financially successful. I was still young and carefree, but in a different way: I had lots of work responsibility, but no kids.

Somewhere in there came the realisation that I wasn’t going to change the world in quite the way I thought. By 2003, I had four children under six and a busy practice. I was trying to be a successful lawyer and the perfect mother.

Until Trump’s election, I had become politically passive, and shame on me, because that’s what led us to where we are now. Now I am reinvigorated. My husband and I took our two youngest kids to the Women’s March in January.

I suppose my tribe now is Volleyball Mom. It’s my youngest daughter’s sport and I attend two dozen tournaments a year. It’s similar to the mod scene: we used to go on scooter rallies to the Isle of Wight; now I drive to Michigan and Wisconsin for tournaments. It’s a subculture of sorts.

‘We weren’t scared of much. Either the world was less scary, or it was the courage of youth’

Linda Robinson and her sister Susan Stecker

Linda Robinson (left) and Susan Stecker outside Southgate tube station, London, in March 1981

Linda I remember this being taken; we were 15 and 17. I saw it for the first time 35 years later, when it was posted on Facebook. I had to call Susan. We were like, “Oh, God, how awful we look!”

In my teens, I loved having my photograph taken; Southgate station had a photo booth, so we would all crowd in there. I had an Instamatic and was always at Boots, getting pictures developed. If I took a photo I didn’t like, I ripped it up and no one would ever see it. It’s different for my four daughters. I see the stress they go through, looking at images of themselves on social media.

We are Jewish, so that was our scene. In our early teens, we’d hang out at McDonald’s or the Baskin-Robbins in Golders Green, and we would go to pubs – not to drink, but to hang around outside. We’d go to Hampstead and meet at The Milk Churn for a salad or ice-cream and hang out there all night to meet new people. Boys, mainly.

In our 20s, we went to the Camden Palace, where all the New Romantics were. I remember feeling inferior, because they had made such a statement with their clothes and makeup. I remember the skins, the punks, the fights.

I didn’t have any particular statement to make. My dream wasn’t to rebel, but to be financially sound and not reliant on a man. I got a job as a John Lewis fashion buyer at 16 and bought my first flat at 22. I regret not travelling, though.

Linda Robinson (left) and Susan Stecker outside Southgate tube station, London, in April 2017

Susan I was too young to be aware of what a subculture was. We weren’t really part of one, but we wouldn’t have been scared of punks or crossed the street if we saw some. I don’t think we were scared of much, really. Either the world was a less scary place, or it was the courage of youth.

We wore whatever was in fashion. I think the sweatshirt I’m wearing was from Miss Selfridge. On a night out, we would have friends round or go to a friend’s house. There were clubs and events put on especially for the London Jewish teenage scene, and we used to go to those. We weren’t drinking, really, but if we did it would be something like Malibu or Cinzano. We’d arrange to meet at a certain place. It’s bizarre thinking about it now: having no mobiles, you just had to wait for people to arrive.

A lot of the clubs would play disco, but I also liked Spandau Ballet, Adam and the Ants, Heaven 17, David Bowie. I had my own stereo with a cassette and record player, and lots of 12-inch singles. I think music has much less of an influence on fashion now. It’s the age of celebrity.

‘It was about wanting to be different from my parents. By 16, I had a pink mohican’

Helen de Jode and Emma Hall

Helen de Jode (left) and Emma Hall in Wimbledon, London, in August 1980

Emma I was 14 in that picture, the same age as my daughter is now. It is currently half-term, and both she and my 13-year-old son are roaming free in north London, so I suppose their lives are quite similar to mine.

Those tartan trousers were the ones I wore on a CND rally, which culminated in a Killing Joke concert at Trafalgar Square. I wasn’t political at that age; it was more about being part of something. I didn’t have dreams of the future and neither was I trying to escape anything. I think that’s partly because I came from a secure home. I just thought everything would turn out OK. More than anything, it was about wanting to be different from my parents. They were nothing more terrible than middle class and conventional, but the only way to rebel was to look abnormal, so by 16 I had a pink mohican.

As you’re growing up, you are trying on your identity, working it out, trying to find like-minded people. I have a strong sense of myself now, though I think identity is something you search for but never really find.

Helen de Jode (left) and Emma Hall in Finsbury Park, London, in May 2017

Helen It was 1980, and we used to listen to the Stranglers and the Clash. We were very London-based; we didn’t think a great deal about the rest of the world, or listen to music from anywhere else. I think about my children now and can’t imagine them having nearly as much freedom as we had. When we were out, we were completely uncontactable.

There was a group of us who shared similar clothes and went out together, but Emma and I were the only ones at the same school. I remember saying to her once: “I think I have seen you every single day this year.”

At 51, I don’t think of myself as part of a group. The friends I have are friends for their individual personalities, rather than because of something we all have in common.

Everything is so much more global nowadays. My children watch American TV and listen to international music, and there is nothing local that might offer them a sense of identity, except maybe a football club.

My friendship with Emma has evolved throughout our lives. After graduating from uni, I lived and worked in Africa for 10 years; Emma worked in Paris and New York, before settling in London. As young mothers, we lived in neighbouring streets in Highbury; now, I’m living in Sydney. We’re still good friends and see each other a couple of times a year. In many situations, you can present the picture you want others to see, but with someone who has known you since you were 11, you can only be who you truly are.

‘We would sneak off to the airbase to practise our moves on their wooden dancefloor’

Nicole Le Strange, aka Quasi, and Sue Lenham, aka Squasher, rockabillies

Nicole Le Strange (left) and Sue Lenham at the Royalty in Southgate, London, in March 1981

Nicole People called me Quasi because I did a great impersonation of Quasimodo. I was 18. I loved rockabilly music, the clothes, the hairstyles, the dancing, but it was also my refuge. I grew up being told by my mother that I wasn’t good enough because I wasn’t a boy, because I was ugly, because I was too tall and too skinny. Then I met this group, and Sue in particular, and they didn’t want me to change. I felt like a superhero.

I never really liked this picture, but I recently realised it’s not about how I look, it’s about what the photograph means. There I am at such a hard time in my life, but I’m with Sue, who loved me unconditionally – with whom I could be, and still can be, exactly who I want to be.

Even into my early 30s, I remember watching the movie Thelma And Louise and there’s this one line, “You get what you settle for”, and I realised that had been my life. I hadn’t got what I wanted; I had basically done what other people told me I should be doing – including having children, if I’m completely honest. I have three children, and one grandchild. I suddenly realised there was a whole world out there.

In the past 14 years, I have rebuilt my life. For the last five years, my partner and I have lived all over Europe. I’m 54 and feel completely free. At 18, I wasn’t certain what freedom meant.

Nicole Le Strange (left) and Sue Lenham in Kranjska Gora, Slovenia, in April 2017

Sue Nobody else was into rock’n’roll when I was at school: it was too retro. My dad brought us up, which was unusual in the 1960s, and my family situation was challenging. I had to be independent and the scene let me express myself. I found out later that my dad had been an Edwardian, a particular type of teddy boy. It turned out we had frequented the same haunts: unknowingly, I was following in his footsteps. People called me Squasher because my surname sounded like lemon, which became squasher lemon.

Nikki and I would sneak off to Mildenhall airbase to practise our dance moves on their great wooden dancefloor. The men assumed we were gay, because we danced together, which was good, really, because we didn’t want any of them bothering us.

Of course there was gang stuff going on, but I’d do anything not to be in a fight. I remember we snuck in to see Quadrophenia when it opened and we were the only rockers there. We wore jeans and checked shirts, no leathers, but we were terrified we might get done on the way out.

I didn’t get on with my sister and Nikki had family problems, too, so we were both sort-of orphans and became each other’s family. I looked out for her. I knew quite early on that I didn’t want children or a family. Because of my childhood, I had decided to choose my family from my friends. I looked after them and they looked after me, and we still do.

These days, I would say I was a bippy, or a biker-hippy. I go to motorbike rallies twice a year to keep me feeling mad, bad and dangerous to know: we have the hippy mentality, but we’re all bald or short-haired; the average age is between 40 and 60. We bond over our non-conformism. I’ve always been a bit “rage against the machine” in that way.

• These photographs are from Visible Girls: Revisited, an exhibition that opens in Hull on 7 July before a UK-wide tour; go to visiblegirls.com for details.

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