#my favorite part of going to the beach is shark teeth- i had a collection going i lost in the move rip

[dragpinkman]

i miss water even more now. when id visit my moms family in central florida we'd go to a lake with giant apple snails and id collect the shells and id go swimming pretty far out but i was only allowed in the middle and main beach because it was full of gators near the east and west shores. good times.

[dragonnan]

fanfic tag game

I was tagged by @disappearinginq​- these are the absolute best fun!

Questions:

Ao3 Name: dragonnan (same as everywhere: Psychfic, FFN, etc)

Fandoms: *cracks knuckles* You want, like, ALL of them?? Welp I’m obsessively listy so here we go:

Currently writing fic for: 

Sherlock

MCU

Psych

In the recent past wrote fic for (and may again as there are WIPs remaining):

SPN

HTTYD

Simon & Simon (as part of a crossover)

Lucifer

Wrote fics years ago but probably won’t write more:

Monk

Star Trek Voyager

Big O (as part of a crossover)

Wrote 1 or 2 fics but probably won’t write more:

Cowboy Bebop

Inuyasha

Lethal Weapon

Invisible Man (2001)

X Files

Quantum Leap

Fullmetal Alchemist

Haven’t published any fics yet but have (or had) ideas:

Doctor Who (specifically 10 and 11)

Burn Notice

Psych

Beauty and the Beast (1980′s series)

Moonlight

In Plain Sight

Star Wars

Haven’t had ideas but I love the fandom and may someday write fic:

Prodigal Son

Star Trek (TNG primarily)

MacGyver (1980′s)

Number of fics: Ummm.... It’s a little hard actually to parse that as some of my stories are posted as larger collections so let’s see what I can do...

Psych: 168 (give or take)

Sherlock: 8

MCU: 19

Other: 29

Total: 224

1. Fic you spent the most time on:  Can I even remember anymore?  I suppose Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth (Psych) which I think took me over 5 years to complete.  However, I wasn’t straight writing that entire time so not certain if it specifically qualifies?  Another contender is The Tiger and the Shark (Sherlock) which I posted pretty consistently and took about 2 years.    

2. Fic you spent the least time on:  I’m not counting those 100 word challenge fics cause, please.  I think the least amount of time I spent on truly legit stories would be one of these possibilities (cause fuck if I know for sure): Wibble Wobble Wibble Wobble To and Fro (Psych), A Good Heart (Psych), Making the Cut With a Squeeze of Lemon (Psych) 

3. Longest Fic: Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth (Psych) 104,522

4. Shortest Fic:  Promises to the Dead (again, not counting 100 word challenge fics), This Week on Psychfic - 280 words

5. Most hits: Just Pieces; Passion, Pain, & Parody (Psych fic collection.  Does that count?)

6. Most kudos: All Nighter (Psych)

7. Most comment threads/ reviews: Standing from Falling (Psych) 352 Reviews

8. Fave Fic you wrote: Ooohh screw this question!  Staawwwp!!! I can’t just pick A favorite but I gueeeesss I could narrow it to a few which out of over 200 damn stories you should be grateful I can narrow it down that much (of COURSE I love my own writing - that’s why I do it!).  I’ll also only include completed works: Psych - Suffer the Night, I Would Do Anything for Love; Even That, You Give Me Fever MCU - Just Another Day in New York, Did You Make it to the Milky Way to See the Lights all Faded, Simple Math Sherlock: The Tiger and the Shark, A Russian, Two Spies, and an Elephant

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on:   The Tiger and the Shark (expand) Fury (Psych) - rewrite

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:  How about both?

Untitled Iron Dad and Spider Son fic:

It started with sand.  Benign. Sorta... tan...  Fucking sand and yet there he was, trembling like he'd just spent the last two hours in subzero temps wearing nothing more than a speedo and a grin.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony gulped; curling his toes before looking up at the young man across from him... who was wearing an expression that mirrored the anxiety thumping in Tony's chest. "Hey... you okay, Kid?"

Peter shrugged - his long fingers clenching and stretching.  "Y-yeah.  Sure!  I mean..." he swallowed, "not like anything bad happens at the beach, right?"

Tony tapped his teeth around his lower lip.  "It's just sand..." Not like sand ever hurt anyone...

Why were they there again?  Oh right; facing demons.  Because that shit never backfired.

The ocean was calm that afternoon. Behind them the sounds of the pier carried with shrill laughter and the cacophony of vendors, shrieking children, and seagulls.  Lots of seagulls - drawn to the scent of funnel cakes and french fries dominating the blend of scents that normally drew Tony, as well, but currently just twisted the pool of nausea threatening his pride.

Peter drew his focus back with a sharply drawn breath.  Then another.  Wind flicked the curls that had been pasted to his forehead with sweat.  Tony pushing his feet through the hot sand - too hot - a decade later and he still couldn't stand the feel of hot grains...  until he stood alongside the kid. Not looking away from the reflection of sunlight on water he nudged his elbow against Peter's arm.  "Not so bad during the day, yeah?"

Peter blinked rapidly - making something like a smile.  "No, yeah... way better." he nodded - looking about as convinced as Pepper would be at the prospect of birthing octuplets.

Tony pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose.  The most expensive shades on the planet and he still hadn't managed to stop them slipping down when he sweated.  He cupped his left elbow in his right hand and watched the para-sailors and jet skiis and swimmers splashing in the low waves.  No surfers; not that day.

He wouldn't have been there if not for Pete.  Kid's idea.  Apparently therapy was the new heroin.  Better come down, he supposed.  Even at that he'd tried for distraction, first.  Tony was nothing if not the Grand Master of distractibility. Offered everything from a road trip along the East Coast to helping the kid build a personal bot (who was he kidding, he planned both as a graduation present).  And, yet, here there were.  Revisiting trauma because what better way to spend a Saturday?

Story Idea - Doctor Who/ Doctor Strange crossover:

Plot: Stephen encounters a woman in a parallel world – a world protected, not by a Sorcerer Supreme, but by a man known only as “The Doctor”.  He soon finds out that this Doctor is unique among the worlds he's explored.  For all he has seen - all the beings he’s encountered, he has never met a woman with such energy coiled within the depth of her brain as the ordinary, redheaded woman he bumps into walking through a parallel London.  In fact, so powerful are the forces within her that he is immediately struck with a chaos of discordant images – of giant wasps and singing squid-like beings and screeching salt shakers and before he can even begin to understand it a face – eyes furious and dark – glaring from a raging fire. “GET OUT!  THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING! GET OUT, NOW, WHILE YOU STILL HAVE A CHANCE!”

Stephen figures out that Donna is slowly being consumed by the Time Lord energies locked inside her. The Doctor may have barred her memory but it still seeps through – with each exposure weakening the walls even more.  Eventually, it will consume her.    

This is not something he can fix alone, however.  He will need to track down the man who first created those mental blocks and left Donna behind to slowly go insane.  The Doctor.

Tagged: @sgam76 @silentsaebyeok @kitcat992 @mizjoely @villaniouslyawesome @itsjustdg @hanuko @jennberry1984

[pan-princess-levy]

sea gifts

characters: levy mcgarden and gajeel redfox rating: gen word count: 1,679 summary: 

while collecting seashells, levy makes a new friend. in a rather unusual way.[mermaid au for mermay. first part of many.]

read also on ffnet and ao3

matching art piece here, drawn by me

The water was halfway up her shins when Levy saw the dorsal fin.

It had been a long day of work—sitting some village children in the morning and then running around the shop for most of the afternoon. Levy had bid her parents goodbye before running off, eager to spend the last couple hours of sunlight doing her most favorite past time.

There were, after all, some positives in living just by the beach. (Even though the breeze could turn cold in times and they ended up with more bugs than most other places.) She'd run home from her parents' flower shop and then immediately headed out to the rocky shore just outside of their humble home.

For the hour and half of fun time she'd allowed herself, Levy had managed to fill half her bag with shells. Pride filled her chest every time she'd found a different piece in the water—some in soft cream, some in oily black—all unique. Some of the village kids had often called her strange for her fixation with the sea, but Levy could barely go through a day without the thick scent of saltwater and seaweed on her lungs, without the scrape of sand and wet stone against her soles.

And then she'd noticed the shark.

Sharks were not, exactly, a common occurrence at the reefs. They weren't particularly rare one either—sightings were known to happen at least once per week. Reef sharks were curious animals and often would wander close to the shore. There were many attractions for tourists in the area to go swimming with sharks. Back when she was little, a family friend had arranged Levy to go along one and she'd even managed to pet one. The people here, long used to their unusual neighbors, lacked some of the irrational fear inland people seemed to possess.

This particular shark, however, didn't seem to be exploring.

Levy bit her teeth as she slowly straightened up, sliding the last shell into her bag. The shore stood just to her right. 5 meters? 10, perhaps? She could run that for a second. But… it might be more. Without her glasses, she wasn't quite as able to perceive the distance.

And the shark… She couldn't pin it down. Oh, sure, the dark dorsal fin stuck like a sore thumb in the setting sun's blazing light. But what kind of shark was it? How far was it?

Could she outrun it?

Levy knelt down and dug her hand into the wet sand. Her fingers brushed something hard and smooth and she tried to take it. A gasp slipped from her lips at the sharp stinging sensation. When she pulled her hand out of the water, red dripped from her open palm.

Distress filled her mind and an uncharacteristically colorful line of curses fell from her mouth. Levy stood up, perhaps a bit too fast, and took a couple of shaky steps before she regained her balance. Her vision was swaying. She wasn't grossed out by the blood— she was a med student, for Heaven's sake—but the situation at hand terrified her. She tried to force out the violent memories of all those childhood encyclopedias about how sharks were able to smell blood from kilometers in the water, but they pushed against her walls. Her vision blurred at the edges, eyes locked on the dark dorsal fin in the distance. So Levy did the most logical thing her frantic mind could come up with.

She dropped her bag and ran.

Luck was definitely not on her side. Barely a few steps later she promptly stepped on another broken shell. Or perhaps the same one she'd cut her palm on. Burning pain shot up her leg and she cried out, doubling over into the water. The saltwater was stinging against her cuts and it made her eyes mist.

The waves splashed around her as she tried to regain her senses. The dark fin had moved closer and now she could see its colors—a band of white around the bottom of it that slowly darkened to the oily black tip. She couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe—

Then the water moved and the fin shifted and something big and dark began raising from the water where it has just stood.

Levy threw all sense through the window and ran in the opposite direction, screaming bloody murder.

The thing was calling her.

"Small human!" the thing yelled after her. "Don't go!"

Hallucinations. She was having hallucinations. She'd cut herself and got poisoned, or she'd inhaled too much water—

Something dark filled her vision and before she could react, Levy collided with a rock. The force of the impact made her lose her ground, her fingers feeling for the growing swell on her head.

It took a moment for her system to catch up, for her senses to take in her surroundings. A moment too much, it seemed. The soft sloshing of water announced the thing's arrival.

Levy turned her head around to face it.

After the initial shock wore off, she saw it was… a person. A weird person with gray skin and what looked like gills and fins and— Breathe, she commanded herself and squared her shoulders. Then she lifted her head and stared right into it.

"Hello" she said, her voice as calm and even as her terrified state could keep it.

"Hello" the creature copied her, as if speaking a foreign language.

The thing was, for the lack of other words, big. The upper part of it resembled a person—that is, if people had scales and gills. From the waist under, it looked more than a shark than anything else. A big and long and strong and most likely able to kill shark.

"You're a mermaid" Levy blurted out.

She was surely having a hallucination. Mermaids weren't real—mermaids were the dream of a small, lonely little girl with no friends and no other way to entertain herself beside old fairytale books. Mermaids were children's animations. Mermaids were not real.

The thing stared at her, dark eyes shining from under a curtain of dark, wet hair. It tilted its head to the side. Small rivets dripped down the lines of its body. A drop fell from the tip of its nose.

Levy found herself unable to move, her back pressed to the rough stone as if it could provide some protection. Despite the fear that she was probably going to die, despite her instincts screaming for her to run, she was rooted to the place. Levy was fixated.

"Mermaid" the creature repeated, as if the word was foreign to it. It probably was. "I… I think so?"

"You think so?" Levy asked. Laughter bubbled in her chest—at the absurdity of the situation or at the confusion written all over the creature's face, she couldn't say. "You look like a mermaid."

"I look like a—" The thing blinked in confusion and then shook its head, sending water everywhere. Levy made a face at the sudden cold against her damp skin. It extended one of its limbs—its arm—to her. Its fingers were gripping the strap of her bag. "Yours?"

Her… her bag. The creature was chasing her because she dropped her bag. The creature wanted to give her back her bag. The creature had probably watched her while she collected her shells and didn't want all her work to go to waste.

Levy started laughing.

Her lungs ached with the force of her laughter, her stomach spasming. The thing did not attack or threaten her. It probably did not know how to deal with hysterical girls. Poor thing. Levy leaned against the rock and lifted her head to meet the creature's—the mermaid's eyes. She had lost her fear somewhere along its confused expression and its calm gaze. She wasn't afraid. Not anymore.

After slinging her bag over her shoulder, she offered the mermaid her hand.

"My name is Levy. It's—" she giggled, "it's my pleasure to meet you. Excuse my… initial reaction."

The mermaid stared at her hand. In the soft light of the setting sun, Levy had to admit it looked beautiful, like a drawing out of her old childhood books.

"You're supposed to shake it" she told it when it just stood there, the top half of it half submerged into the chilling water. "And then you say your name."

The mermaid nodded slowly, then lifted its hand from the water and wrapped it around hers. Levy expected it to be cold, like fish were—instead, she felt a gentle, reassuring heat against her skin, smooth scales brushing her palm. Its hand was larger than her own, with longer, stronger fingers with silvery webs between them and small calluses. She could hardly believe she had been afraid—no creature with such gentle hold and such kind eyes could be dangerous to her.

"Gajeel" the mermaid said slowly, shaking her hand as it spoke. "It's my plea— plea—"

"Pleasure?" Levy suggested.

"It's my pleasure to meet you." It seemed very proud of itself. "Levy. Sounds pretty."

Despite everything, Levy giggled again. She brushed the hair from her face and gave the mermaid her best smile.

"Thank you. So does yours." She slipped back into the water with a small "plop". "Thank you for bringing my bag."

It seemed to have some trouble putting its thoughts into words. Levy winced in sympathy. Human languages were different enough from each other—she couldn't imagine how much harder it would be for a non-human creature to change its whole way of speaking.

"Sorry. For scaring you" it said after a while.

Levy hummed and carefully headed back to where she'd been collecting her seashells. When she didn't hear any movement behind her, she lifted her head.

"Are you coming?"

With what she was sure was a relieved expression, the mermaid swam after her. Levy smiled to herself. She'd just made a new friend. A new magical friend.

7 years old her would be so happy if she knew.

[marveliter]

Invincible

Summary:  Roberta Ross has the best life living with her mother and spending the summer with her best friend, but what happens when a certain someone shows up and flips her life upside down? She's asked to join a team of incredible people and fight alongside her incredible father, but does she want to?

CHAPTER ONE Characters: OC + Marvel characters Warnings: ocean, underwater snorkeling, barracuda & rash A/N: wow okay first story on here! I've tried doing stories before, so I hope this one works out! I'm much better on wattpad, and if you guys are interested in checking it out I can link it in the next chapter (if there will be one). Enjoy :)

If I could go anywhere in the entire world, anywhere I wanted, I'd stay right where I am. I don't want to go far for college, I don't want to move out of state, I want to stay in Key Largo, Florida, my home. I've lived here all my life and never see myself leaving. The beach is my second home, my safety; I don't fear anything under the dark blue waters. The unsolved mysteries of the ocean don't frighten me, it inspires me, motivates me to learn and solve. I imagine being a marine biologist and discovering a new species of fish or crustacean. Of course, I couldn't do it alone.       "What are we looking for today, Captain?" Ollie shouts from the steering wheel. I turn around from the bow of the boat, letting the wind fling my brown hair over my shoulders. The wind was casting Ollie's long brown hair behind him. My hair was longer than his shoulder-touching curls, but his was brighter thanks to spending numerous days in the sun. His smile was wide with lines and perfect white teeth. His eyes were darker than the ocean, a nice pristine dark blue almost laced with black.        I smile and turn my head out to the big blue ocean, letting the choppy sound of the engine fill my ears and the small spray o ocean hit my cheeks.        "Out there," I call back to him, pointing to dark rocks that just peak out from the waves.       "Great choice, Cap," Ollie shouts. The boat lightly swerves to the left, and soon we are a yard or so from the rocks.       Ollie cuts the engine and emerges from the steering wheel.       "Can't get too close now,"       I laugh, "Defiantly, learned that the hard way,"       "You'd think the current isn't strong enough to haul a boat away," he shrugs and smiles.       "I thought you meant the boat hitting the rocks," I say as I squat in front of the white cushioned seats that double as a chest.       "That too, thank God for O'Malley boat repairs!" he exclaims.       "Stop sponsoring you grandpa's business," I giggle as I toss him a snorkel mask. 

      Ollie chuckles as he sets down the mask and takes off his cut-off shirt. He was tall and semi-built, mostly in his arms and legs; his chest was flat like a cheeseboard. He was built but skinny; he looked like an optical illusion without a shirt on. Ollie was funny about it, saying that he looked like a twig, and making fun of himself. Some girl in my class had told me that he looked like a stoner with the long hair and distorted face. His "distorted' face wasn't imperfect at all; his jaw was square but appeared narrow because it was so structured, and his long hair created shadows around his cheeks.        I was different in body type: I have curves and more defined muscles, a big chest, and like him no abs. I don't mind though, just more of me to love.       "I wish I was as tan as you, the only color I get is on my shoulders, and then I get even more freckles."        I laugh and shake my head as I pull a fuzz ball off my pink bikini bottoms. "I don't know why I get so tan, Mom has lighter skin than I do."       "Is it. . .never mind," he says while pulling out flippers from the other cushioned bench.       "From my dad? Maybe, but who knows - who cares? Look where I am now, having the time of my life with my favorite person! And, if we get eaten by sharks I know that I'll die with my best friend," I smile.       Ollie shoots me a look, "Funny of you to assume that I'm going to be anywhere near you if a shark comes around,"       "Oh, please, like we're going to be eaten by a shark,"       "What scene in Jaws don't you understand? Actually, what don't you learn from the whole series?" Ollie asks.       "Come on Skipper," I laugh as I pull on my flippers and strap my goggles over my eyes, "we've got some discovering to do,"       Soon after we throw the anchor down, we both jump in the cold ocean, but it wasn't so cold to me. The sun was always blistering, but I'd grown used to it, and now nothing bothered me. When I emerged from under the waves, Ollie was struggling to get his snorkel clear of salt water. He inhales deeply, presses his mouth against the mouthpiece, and blows into it, letting the water shoot out from the top like he was a whale. I laugh before biting onto the mouth piece and diving under the waves. Ollie swam next to me a few seconds later, taking my hand so we wouldn't drift too far from each other or end up in a current. We didn't wear life vests because we weren't that far from the rocks, and we could climb up on them to take a break.       As we swim close to the rocks, schools of Yellowtail Snappers part to let us through. It was so exciting swimming in such a colorful ocean, filled with corals of all shapes and sizes, fish of different bright colors, and seashells scattered everywhere on the bottom floor. My favorite fish would have to be a puffer fish, because they look so innocent until you make them mad, and they blow up into a huge ball of spikes. Great White Sharks are my second favorite, just because they're like the kings of the ocean - in my opinion at least. Ollie likes Manatees and Blue Tangs more, he's not one who wants to learn about the dangerous creatures and discover what's deep down in the Hadal Zone.       After we take a few laps around the rocks to explore and admire the ocean life around it, we start diving to pick up seashells. Every once in a while when swimming back up to the surface, we realize that someone's still living inside. I love collecting seashells, and I do it every time I head to the beach. When I was younger, my favorite type of seashell to collect were broken sand dollar shells. One day I imagined finding all the broken pieces of one shell and piecing it back together. The only whole seashell I've ever had is one my mother found for me; she wouldn't tell me where she found it, which at first I thought it was one she bought from a gift shop. I was wrong because it was real, and I wondered for years how she attained it. Over the years I brushed it off, because she's done so much for me as a single parent and I never know how to thank her.       As I grab a white cockle shell with a blue stripe, my eyes catch sight of an abandoned queen conch, which was a light pink with dark oranges around the edges. I thought it was beautiful, but I didn't have time to grab it because I couldn't hold my breath for more than ten seconds. So, I pushed myself off the sand floor and torpedoed up to the waves, where up on the rocks sat Ollie, mask on his forehead as he counted all eight of his shells and piled all sixteen of mine next to him.       "Conch!" I spit water out of my mouth frantically as I swim up to the rock and place my cockle shell in my pile. Ollie gives me a surprised and confused look as he leans in closer.       "What did you just call me?"       "No!" I laugh, propping my elbows on the ledge of the rocks. "There's this beautiful conch shell right below me in between the green brain corals. It's so gorgeous but I'm not sure I can carry it with all my other shells." Ollie throws his mask back over his eyes and grabs a hold of the snorkel.       "That sucks, is a slug in it?" I shake my head as he gathers up his and half of my shells. "Maybe we'll come back tomorrow and get it, Grams is gonna be pissed if I'm late for dinner," I nod as I gather up the rest of my shells and swim with Ollie back to the boat. As I climb the ladder, I place my shells in an empty bucket next to the seats. Ollie tosses his in, then stands up straighter and flips his mask up once more.       "You said the seashell was over there?" he asks, pointing to the general area where we were a moment ago. I nod as I pull up the anchor. The boat rocks slightly before Ollie starts the engine, and slowly drives the boat. Usually he does this as a warm up until he can get the boat to go faster. He stays slow as he turns the boat in the wrong direction for home.       "Ollie," I say. "I don't mean to be a backseat sailor, but you're going the wrong way,"       "I know," he calls back before turning near the rocks and cutting the engine off again. I watch as he placed the mask, which he never took off, over his eyes one last time before he grabbed the snorkel, and without flippers, jumps into the ocean.       "Ollie!" I scream as I lean over the boat's railing. He emerges from the water, flinging his long brown hair out of his face.       "Green brain coral, right?" he asks.       "What?" I ask. Ollie smirks before taking a deep breath, biting onto the mouth piece and slipping under the water. I grab only my mask and climb down the ladder, but stay clinging to it even as I go under the water.       Ollie swims towards the circle of brain coral where the conch shell is resting on the ocean floor. I watch him take hold of it, and he turns around to see me looking at him. He gives me a thumbs up and I do the same back with a smile he probably can't see. Suddenly, a big long shadow moves behind him, and I start pointing behind him. It was a barracuda, a long rusty blue one that blended in with the ocean water. It's mouth was slightly open to reveal sharp teeth, something I found terrifying in fish. Although I've eaten barracudas, I'd never want to swim with or near one.       Ollie turns around in time to see it circling him, but instead of staying calm and unmoving - probably because he was couldn't breathe - Ollie took off from the sea floor. I emerged from the water and hastily climbed up the ladder. Not a second later Ollie was climbing up it, throwing himself over the step and falling on the floor of the boat. Immediately, I'm at his side.       "Ollie! I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have pointed! - are you okay?" All I hear is deep breaths and he tosses his mask off. His blue eyes looked into my brown ones as he smirks, and holds out the conch shell to me.       "For you, oh Captain my Captain," he says.       I sigh with guilt as I took the conch. "You didn't need to do that," He raises an eyebrow and chuckles, shaking his head.       "And see my captain sad? Never," We laugh as I hug him tightly, but as he tries to move his feet, Ollie hisses in pain. Looking to his feet, I see the side of his left foot and big toe swelling up with redness.       "You stepped on fire coral!" I scream as I take the next empty bucket and lean over the boat to submerge it under the waves. After I haul it back up filled with sea water, I help Ollie onto the bench and stick his left foot in it.       "Time to go home, Mom can help you out with that," I say, turning to the wheel of the boat and starting up the engine. "Don't let your foot rest on the bottom of the bucket, you could have a stingers stuck in your foot."       Through all the pain hisses and wincing, Ollie says, "You should be a doctor, just like your mom, you'd be good at it,"       "This isn't the right time to discuss my mother's dream of 'Dr. Ross and Ross, family doctors,'" I say as I turn the boat in the right direction of home.        "Dr. Roberta Ross," Ollie shouts over the engine. "I like the sound of that,"   

[animeraider]

Of all of the strange stories in my lengthy music career, this is one of them.

In the 1980's I was the lead guitarist and occasional vocalist for a band called ASK. We were pretty good after a while. It was me, Kevin Donville (bass and lead vocals), Ed Lee (Keyboards and vocals) and a series of drummers before we finally settled win with Tim "T.J." Klassen. We started off slow but after some rough gigs, including an horrific one where we were the act that followed the famed songwriting team of Holland-Dozier-Holland run through their biggest hits (we sounded nothing like them and the audience was there) we built up a reputation in West L.A. as a solid band and had earned the trust of the famed Esther Wong herself.

We played 20 gigs at Madame Wong's during our run.

In 1989 Kevin had to leave the band. The rest of us tried to soldier on for a bit, recruiting my brother to play bass and trying a few other guitarists to take over lead duties while I took over vocals. None of it really worked, but we did have fun with one song. Back in the ASK days we had a hard rocker called "Run To Me" that featured a riff I stole from Don Dokken. I re-worked the song as a ballad and we worked up a pretty good arrangement. Tim and my brother worked up a solid rhythm section part and we all agreed that this was pretty awesome.

The band fizzled out and that's mostly my fault. But one night Tim and I got some beers and watched a VHS tape of U2's "Rattle and Hum", and when they got to "Bullet The Blue Sky" Tim's air-drumming that slamming part and I'm pretending to be The Edge when Tim asks me if I can play that slide guitar part. I could and I can. He said, "wouldn't that be awesome in Run to Me?"

We had one more practice, jut him, me and my brother and it WAS awesome.

I then got sidetracked by the events that led me to record a song called "Favorite Partner", a dance track that was completely played on acoustic instruments. That song took off in the beach town clubs and I suddenly needed a full demo to shop around - because people were starting to ask who I was. I had two other songs ready to go in the same vein as "Favorite Partner" and I asked TJ and Alex (my brother) to come to a session and we'd record "Run to Me" like we had last practiced it, "Rattle and Hum" bits and all.

In those days I practiced and recorded at a placed called Pendragon Studios. None of us lived close to it, but their engineer - a man named Bill Krodell - was a genius.This of course means that we all have to drive there. On the day of the session Alex's car breaks down, and he can't make it. So now I have to play bass.

TJ and I record a reference track - my guitar and his drums, and then I record the bass. I had never tried to play bass on the song before, so I just copied with Alex had done. It's a pretty good bass line, and later he would be very happy that I had kept it. I record the guitars and when it comes time to do the solo I pull out the slide and do the "Bullet the Blue Sky" bit. It's only a few seconds but Bill claps his hands together and says, "Wait until you hear how I mix THAT!"

It gets time to do the vocals and it takes me a few takes to get the lead down. The harmonies were easy though (that had been my part when it was an ASK song). We're listening to a take and getting to the last chorus when TJ, who's been just sitting and listening for the past couple of hours as his part was long finished yells out, "Knock Knock Knockin' on Heaven's Door" in time with the drum part he played.

Of course, we just HAD to incorporate that. Understand, There were about a dozen version of the old Bob Dylan song making the rounds right around then, including the Guns 'N' Roses one, so it was once again part of the zeitgeist. In the space of a few minutes I came up and recorded with a blistering 4-part harmony of those six words, and then returned to the song as I had written it. It was a fun off-the-cuff moment and I love those.

We mixed the tracks and I suddenly had a 4-song demo. A friend of mine did a photo session for the cover. I'm terrible at those and to try to get me to loosen up she had me balance a small rubber shark on my shoulder. The photo that resulted led to not only the cover but the title of the demo, "Hand Feeding the Hungry Shark".

God's Teeth I'm young in that photo.

The demo got circulated around and label interest started up, but they wanted to hear more. They wanted live shows and at this point I really didn't have a band. I was getting club play though and I was selling demos, so I decided to record a full album. The result was the first album I released as Jim Christopher, "My World - Welcome To It", named after a television show I barely remembered from my childhood. It's available to this day:

https://open.spotify.com/album/0MZo7Zlk9cis5s0mcv0giy?si=RUce_ECtRH-ndKprKkx2QA&dl_branch=1

Thing is, if you listen to track Seven you will NOT hear the Bob Dylan Lyrics. You need to remember that this is 1989-90. The world wasn't then what it is now. I hadn't sampled Dylan. I had essentially just used his words, and I realized I was going to need his permission. So I asked.

It took a bit of doing, but I found his agent and sent him a letter outlining what I was doing, and sent him a copy of the demo. I figured that their publishers would want a cut and I was prepared to give it. Instead I got a letter back stating that if I were to release this version of the song with Dylan's lyrics included that they would sue me into the ground and crap on the smoldering remains.

Well, I'm this 24 year-old broke dude and this is Bob Dylan's battery of lawyers. I wasn't going to win this one, so I went to a studio and rented one of their editing consoles and spliced out most of the last chorus (I'm a VERY good editor - most people don't even realize the cut).

That was that. My little tribute to Bob Dylan was left on the cutting room floor. 20 seconds of the song just gone. End of story.

Except.

Long after I had left Los Angeles and retaken my own name as a recording artist, Dylan gives an interview about all of the covers of his songs done over the years, and how many musicians quote him. Part of the answer he gives is about how he got overly protective of his catalog at one point and wouldn't let anyone use his music without using the whole song. Guess about when this was? He goes on to say in the interview that he doesn't mind people quoting him - that he does it himself.

In essence, he was giving everyone permission to do the very thing his lawyers had told me not to do. I'm not going to go into the story of how I confirmed this, but I did learn that he actually had never even heard my song (Hugh Hefner did, but that's another story). The ultimate response I got? "We're cool."

But I had edited that chorus out of the master for the album. I went back to the original 2 inch tapes I had recorded on and remixed and remastered the song. I let it hang around bandcamp for a little while, but I never really gave any thought to releasing it.

Well, 2020 and 2021 have been such game-changers in my life. After spending years struggling with a new album the floodgates opened up for me as a writer and a recording artist. As many of you know, I've released a ton of material this year, including some of my older tracks that never saw the light of day. It took a while, but it finally got through myu thick skull that I could finally put out in wide release the original version of "Run to Me", complete with The Edge guitar solo and 6 words by Bob Dylan.

It's the opener of "Demolisten", which is mostly a random collection of songs that never saw wide release for one reason or another. Some of this work is seriously unpolished, but I figure if the big artists can release their back-catalog crap so can I. But I'm really proud of "Run to Me".

I played every instrument and sang all the vocals except for the drums, which are played by Tim "TJ" Klassen (who now lives in New York). If you listen very very carefully you can even hear TJ "singing" (screaming, really) as he plays drums, especially on some of the fills.

Every song on this "new" EP has a story behind it, but this one is the one from the very early days of my life as a solo artist. I can tell the other stories if you want. I promise to be less verbose on the others. Their stories are shorter.

[arconn]

I remember how much I used to do these in high school/my early 20s, I wish I could do an old one and compare responses. Here's one for today, 06/21/21

1) Sexuality? Pansexual, meaning I don't have a preference of what you're working with and I don't exclude those who identify as nonbinary/agender.

2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Russel Crowe

3) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17. with a stock of white, forearms tattooed in black Borean ink- the black dragon that marks him as an outsider. - Witches of America by Alex Mar

4) What do you think about most? That people want to be good and be happy but also very much have the opportunity to cause the opposite

5) What does your latest text message from someone else say? Hope you have today off...

6) Do you sleep with or without clothes on? Usually with but it depends on what time of year it is

7) What’s your strangest talent? Being able to guess poeple's zodiac signs pretty accurately.

8) Girls…. (finish the sentence); Boys…. (finish the sentence) should be treated the same

9) Ever had a poem or song written about you? Yes

10) When is the last time you played the air guitar? I don't even remember honestly.

11) Do you have any strange phobias? Preying mantasis, they absolutely terrify me and are bore deep into my psyche

12) Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose? Yes

13) What’s your religion? I identify as an omniest, meaning I find truth and beauty in all religions and also as a pagan witch- a woman who loves and respects the earth, her elements and the way it effects us. I read tarot and look for divine guidance primarily from a central collective consciousness/energy and divinity that is in us all.

14) If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Hooping, going on a walk

15) Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind

16) Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band? Like a whole band with instruments and multiple musicians? Either Born of Osiris of August Burns Red

17) What was the last lie you told? That I was okay when I wasn't

18) Do you believe in karma? Absofreakinglutely

19) What does your URL mean? That I'm one tough bitch ;)

20) What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength? My quickness to trust someone and be vulnerable and shutting myself off or down when I realize I shouldn't have. And loving other people and things, when I'm at my best I aspire to emulate loving goddess energy and make others feel safe and seen.

21) Who is your celebrity crush? I honestly am not a big fan of most celebrities

22) Have you ever gone skinny dipping? Honestly, no.

23) How do you vent your anger? Usually to a friend or through hooping

24) Do you have a collection of anything? Crystals, metaphysical books, tarot decks.

25) Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Through messenger

26) Are you happy with the person you’ve become? Yes, though there is a lot I am still working hard on.

27) What’s a sound you hate; sound you love? The sound of people chewing or brushing their teeth and I love the sound of deep low frequency bass and my bunny Winston "purring"

28) What’s your biggest “what if”? What if a certain relationship worked out and I hadn't left and we stayed together

29) Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens? I believe in the possibility of everything but also that anything can be debunked. I say yes to both.

30) Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm. Left- my phone, right-a bag of cashews :)

31) Smell the air. What do you smell? A candle burning nearby.

32) What’s the worst place you have ever been to? Probably the part of Bahrain we got dumped in while waiting for our ship. Of course, at the time I had never been to or lived in Philly or Baltimore, but it was a lot and was absolutely not safe.

33) Choose East Coast or West Coast? East coast, but I haven't been to the west coast yet.

34) Most attractive singer of your opposite gender? Anderson Paak *heart eyes* thats my BAYBEEEEE

35) To you, what is the meaning of life? See #13

36) Define Art. Expression

37) Do you believe in luck? I believe in divine blessing

38) What’s the weather like right now? Absolutely beautiful and 70 something outside

39) What time is it? 2:51

40) Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed? Yes, though I don't have a car right now. And no I haven't, only been rear ended once.

41) What was the last book you read? Been reading Witches of America by Alex Mar lately as well as some study astrology material.

42) Do you like the smell of gasoline? Love it.

43) Do you have any nicknames? Mana

44) What was the last movie you saw? The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It... it was absolutely amazing

45) What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Dislocating my knee, it went all the way to the backside of my leg!!

46) Have you ever caught a butterfly? Oh yes

47) Do you have any obsessions right now? Learning my job and getting better at it, smoking weed, getting these next couple milestones together that are coming up.

48) What’s your sexual orientation? Pansexual, see #1 for an explanation

49) Ever had a rumor spread about you? Oh yes

50) Do you believe in magic? Definitely

51) Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Nah, I wish I could sometimes, but I'm actually pretty bad at it, to my own demise.

52) What is your astrological sign? Aquarius sun, Scorpio moon, Capricorn rising

53) Do you save money or spend it? Spend it. UGH.

54) What’s the last thing you purchased? A smoothie

55) Love or lust? Love

56) In a relationship? Not currently, no.

57) How many relationships have you had? I don't even know anymore... that would be a lot to count out.

58) Can you touch your nose with your tongue? Yes

59) Where were you yesterday? Work and then home and in my bed sleeping for almost 13 hours.

60) Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? Yes, a hula hoop

61) Are you wearing socks right now? Nope

62) What’s your favorite animal? Rabbits and octopus

63) What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? Look at them very intently with my eyes and show genuine care/focus on them

64) Where is your best friend? I don't really have a best friend right now, my closest is in Maryland right now, but I haven't seen her in over a year.

65) Spit or swallow?(; Always swallow

66) What is your heritage? Irish/Scottish

67) What were you doing last night at 12 AM? DEAD ASLEEP

68) What do you think is Satan’s last name? Gon'getcha

69) Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off? What kinda question is this? Duh. Society is so weird about sexuality it's kind of gross. *shudders*

70) Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend? Yeah!

71) You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do? Yell for help, save the dog. Take pictures once the rescue is a success and try and explain it to my boss, if they let me go, they let me go.

72) You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid? I tell everyone I care about, yes. I would spend the rest of my time with my family and saying goodbye to certain friends. I'd try to fit in as much live music as humanly possible as well and maybe take a few days trip abroad, probably somewhere where I could be on the beach.

73) You can only have one of these things; trust or love. Love, because if it's true, you get both

74) What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it? Touch by Hybrid Minds

75) What are the last four digits in your cell phone number? 1***

76) In your opinion, what makes a great relationship? Trust, over communication, taking time for the cute and little things

77) How can I win your heart? ^

78) Can insanity bring on more creativity? Absolutely

79) What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far? Letting things go in order to gain

80) What size shoes do you wear? 8 1/2 or 9

81) What would you want to be written on your tombstone? EVERYBODY LOVE EVERYBODY! C'MON! -WILL FERREL

82) What is your favorite word? Fuck

83) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart. Swell

84) What is a saying you say a lot? "The road to suffering is paved with expectations" -The Buddha

85) What’s the last song you listened to? Loan Shark by Commodo

86) Basic question; what’s your favorite color/colors? Lavendar, royal blue, deep purple, light magenta, neon red, burnt orange

87) What is your current desktop picture? $uicideboy$

88) If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be? Oh boy, I don't think I'd want that to happen to anyone because they could be with other people like their family and shit. That would be so horrible.

89) What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on? Haven't found one yet.

90) One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do? Slowly look around and see if I can find a weapon, then quickly get to it and make a quick exit, defending myself from the mummies if need be.

91) You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power? It's a tie between teleporation and being able to heal others/myself.

92) You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again? My wedding day.

93) You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? Early memories in the barracks at Fort Meade

94) You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be? Al Ross or $crim

95) You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? India

96) Do you have any relatives in jail? Not that I know of

97) Have you ever thrown up in the car? Yup, but it was into a bag every time

98) Ever been on a plane? Many times

99) If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say? EVERYBODY LOVE EVERYBODY, c'MON!

[tinymagicmountain]

Short Stories of Florida

Been thinking about this one notebook, a letter never finished or sent, but two anecdotes in it have crossed my mind this week. I kept meaning to write them as short stories but maybe they are as fine as they’ll ever be just as they were written in this letter, which may sit on my bookshelf til I’m dead. The date is unknown, circa 2013. Anastasia Park “Yesterday I was remembering when my family would picnic at Anastasia park at St. Augustine beach. We’d grill lots of food, play and swim all day. My uncles would go fish at a shallow part where baby sharks would swim up to us. They were slow, and I could pick them up and hold them in my hands. I was about seven years old. I would hold the little hammerheads and try to feel inside of their mouths, their teeth. They were so soft on the outside. My dad would make me kites out of old newspapers. My little cousins and I would collect hermit crabs and build them ships made out of leaves and sticks and empty snack bags from our picnic, and we’d sail them away.” Polar Bears “I thought about ‘The Crossing’ again. Like, nobody has been witness to my life, from the start, knows everything about me. Then I thought of my sister. She’s been with me. And I cried a little, and I missed my sister. There was a little boy at the face painting booth a few days ago, he made these facial expressions that reminded me of my sister when she was that age. There are all these photographs of her with giant glasses, big sneakers, digital watch on her wrist, rockos modern life hat. All these adorable pictures, and she hates them all, she hates the past. But I love all these old pictures of her. I remember being so fascinated, copying everything she did because she was the coolest. She’s seen me at my worst, she remembers me, all I’ve been up to this point, and I remember her too. Like...she went through this phase where she decided polar bears were her favorite animal, so her room slowly filled with polar bears: this polar bear music box, a coca cola polar bear plush toy, a polar bear figuring on each piece of furniture in that room. In high school she wrote poetry, she typed it up on our computer and would work for hours, and in the end she never shared them and threw it all away. She was very afraid of dogs when we were younger. One summer vacation I would sleep on the floor of her room because we’d stay up late and watch conan o’brien and reruns. Actually, I slept on her floor every night, even though I had a whole room for myself, all the way up until some embarrassing age, because I was scared of the dark. Every night I’d grab my comforter and a pillow and set up camp by her tv on the floor. She and I may be the only ones in each other’s life that will believe our first house we lived in was haunted, that I saw a ghost in our living room, the only one who really believes how alone we feel all of the time.” 

[fabermemorialrink]

some mistake, part 8

First part of chapter three! Also haha uh this is the last completed section of this fic, so I’m just going to leave it here for a while. I’m sorry!!! The next part is like 80% done, but I feel like this is a cleaner break point, because things turn weird again soon. But who knows! Maybe I’ll get it together for once and hammer out the rest! Anyway, thanks a million to all you beautiful people for reading!! You folks are the best.  ♥ ♥

The first thing Derek does after dumping his bag in the new room he now shares with C is take off for the rink, to see if the guys are around. Chowder wasn't in their room, which figures, since he's been back for a few days already, but neither is he in the lobby with Tango and the rest of the new sophomores, or lying in the grass with Rans and Holtzy in the spot Shitty and Johnson claimed for them when Derek was a wee, impressionable freshman.

Ford, who’s sporting a new pair of glasses and demolishing Whiskey in a game of Guess Who, tells him Chowder went to visit a townie friend, and Derek almost crashes through the lobby doors in his hurry to get to the woods. C must already be chilling with Dex, probably gorging themselves on Bitty’s pie or skipping rocks with Lardo and Tater, which would kinda suck since Derek doesn’t know how to find his way in there alone. He waves a casual goodbye to the others as Holster reminds him about their first team breakfast tomorrow, and takes off. He hasn't seen either of his best friends for over two months.

To his surprise, they aren’t deep in the forest when he locates them. They're perched on a low, thick branch near Derek’s hollow, swinging their feet and eating the syrupy ice pops that the nearby convenience mart sells by the box. Chowder’s lips are stained purple; he grins around the plastic tube dangling from his mouth, bringing up one hand to shield himself as Dex flicks red droplets of melted cherry popsicle at his face.

“Don't even think about it-”

“Thought you liked my freckles, C. Don’t you want to match?” Dex snaps his tube forward, spraying more cherry syrup in Chowder’s direction.

“Not with you, goblin man,” Chowder whines, dodging and ducking like he’s in the Matrix. He loses balance, flailing as he begins tipping backwards. Dex tries to save him, grabbing onto C’s sleeve as he topples backwards off the branch, but only manages to get himself dragged down too. They land in a squawking mess of limbs.

Derek whistles in appreciation, strolling up to them while they thrash around like beached squids. “I can’t believe you just let Chowder die,” he tsks.

“Yeah, what the hell! Dropping the ball, Dex.”

“Maybe if the ball had laid off on bag nachos for the summer I wouldn’t have dropped him.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Chowder laughs, slapping his arm across Dex’s chest. “My body is a temple, and I can fill it with twelve hundred bags of Fritos if I want.”

“Christ, Fritos are revolting, C. Nursey, teach this boy something about nutrition, would you?” Dex asks, staring upside down through his lashes at Derek, who grins down at him.

“You eat pie for dinner! Every day!” Chowder yells.

“What’s that? You loathe Bitty’s pies? You never want to taste another one again in your life? I dunno, this’ll really break his heart, but if you really feel that strongly about it…”

Chowder starts with a wail that warps into a battle cry as he leaps at Dex, who tries unsuccessfully to roll away. The noise he makes when C sinks his nails into his hips is unreal; if Derek ignores the stray laughter, it sounds like he’s being dragged to hell.

“Alright, break it up boys, break it up,” Derek says as Chowder begins a tickle offensive and Dex’s leg twitches like he might kick someone’s teeth in by accident. He pushes his way in between the two of them and nudges Dex away with a foot before sitting himself on top of Chowder’s ass, pinning him in place. Chowder kicks his legs, trying to oust Derek from his spot, but gives up, lying defeated in the underbrush.

“This is blatant favoritism,” Chowder grumbles. “I don’t see you crushing Dex with your steel quads.”

“Hey, if we’re talking favoritism, at least Dex lets you into the trees with him.” Every time Derek asks Dex to join him, Dex just flips him the bird and circles the tree like an unhinged coyote.

“That’s because I don’t want you to break your damn neck, you dipstick,” Dex says as he finally crawls off the ground. “And you’re only like 5’ 9”, so catching you is easier than-” He stops short when Derek stands. Derek, who after two years can look him in the eye without tilting his head upward. For some reason, though, he stares half a minute longer, the skin around his neck starting to grow a heated pink. “When the fuck did you get so- so,” and he waves his hand distractedly around Derek’s general person, “uh, tall?” The word falls from his lips like he intended to say something else, and he claps his mouth shut.

“Well, Dex, it was early on the morn of July 11th when I woke crunched up in my tiny bed like a giant in the land of the-”

“Alright, smartass, I get it.” He backs away from Derek, still rosy and flustered, and busies himself with helping Chowder off the ground.

When they're all finally situated, Derek reveals the gifts he brought back with him. The first item he throws in their direction is a humongous bag of cotton candy, which makes them both brighten to an unholy level.

“Didn't you just have popsicles?” he asks dubiously as Dex parcels out a clump to Chowder and lets a strand of the spun sugar dissolve on his tongue.

“Pssshh,” Chowder says.

“Aight, then hook me up too,” Derek says. He opens up his mouth expectantly as Dex reaches out to give him a handful. Reluctantly, Dex pushes the cotton candy past his lips, to rest on his tongue, then snatches his hand back, turning colors again. Super weird.

But Derek leaves him be, dividing up the rest of his souvenirs. Gloves and a shark-shaped tea infuser for C; a scarf and tiny lobster keychain for Dex.

“Trying to buy our affection again, Nursey?” Chowder teases after they thank him.

“Nah, you know I just notice stuff that reminds me of you guys,” Derek says casually. Dex gets awkward about accepting gifts that aren't food, having hang-ups about being indebted to people and wasting money, but Derek has slowly managed to convince him that none of these gifts carry any burden or expectation. He tries to keep them less expensive and more thoughtful, in order to make things easier for his friends.

“Crustaceans remind you of me,” is all Dex comments on, face unsure if it's amused or exasperated, and Derek breaks into a grin.

“Of course they do! Orange and crabby.”

Dex looks like he's about to try and put him in a headlock, so Derek dumps the rest of the bag at his feet. It’s a collection of books that Dex expressed interest in reading; from the surprised delight on his face when he peeks inside, Derek’s hit the mark.

“They're for you to keep, though I wrote in the margins of some, and they're all a little beat up- not that you don't deserve new books,” and now he's spinning in circles, trying to explain this without coming off as a cheap douchebag, “but I thought maybe you'd like to see what I thought? I mean, obviously you'll form your own opinions, but-”

“Nursey, stop. They're great. Thanks, for everything,” Dex says, warmth lacing his tone as he thumbs down the corner of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. His eyes flicker up to meet Derek’s, and they share a smile, leaving Derek feeling somewhere in between bizarre and normal.

He tries to forget about it, but Dex remains somewhat squirrely for the rest of the day, culminating in a really awkward clasp/hug when they depart for the evening. Chowder pulls Dex in for a hug, which runs smoothly as usual, but Derek holds his arms out until Dex brings it in and receives an uncomfortable chest-bump half-hug combo that fizzles out when they pull apart and Dex realizes he’s looking directly into Derek’s eyes. He scuttles back into the woods with a hasty goodbye, power-walking away with his arms full of books, leaving Derek to make baffled faces at Chowder on their walk home.

Derek is still stewing over it by tomorrow morning at team breakfast, when he's finally awake enough to ask Chowder what the deal was with yesterday.

“Dex is just worked up ‘cause you got taller and hotter over the summer!” Chowder tells him while inhaling cheerios. Derek almost stabs himself in the gums with his fork.

There were enough keywords in that sentence to grab Holster’s attention from all the way down the table, and he launches out of his seat to accost Derek while he chokes on his homefries.

"Nursey. Nurse. Derek, my bro, my precious d-man hatchling, what delightful news is this?!" Holster bellows, almost knocking Ollie out of his spot as he collides with the bench next to Derek. The plate of pancakes flies across the table like a frisbee, stopped only by Ford's quick hand, trained, no doubt, by hours and hours of expertly managing unruly wild-eyed theater kids.

Derek quits choking long enough to splutter out, "It's nothing, just Chowder being-"

"Nothing?!" comes the outraged rallying cry from Ransom, who crosses from the omelette station to their table in three long graceful bounds. He launches his plate aside to squeeze in next to Holster, which triggers a domino effect and squishes Whiskey to the very edge of the bench. The sophomore continues valiantly eating his toast as if he doesn’t have only half his butt on a solid surface.

"Sounds like way more than nothing to us!"

"Sounds like someone's getting a head start on winter formal, is what I'm thinking, Holtzy." Ransom says, looping his arm around Derek's shoulders and staring him down with his most intense co-captain stare.

"It sure does, bro."

Derek rips his eyes away from Ransom's hypnotic stare long enough to direct his glare at turncoat Christopher Chow, who continues smiling and vacuuming up cereal like he didn't just bodily shove Derek under several two-hundred pound buses. He barely has any idea of what's happening right now, and certainly isn't prepared to defend himself from his captains’ onslaught of (un)helpful support.

"Well, I dunno if he can go to formal," Chowder says, looking apologetic even as he throws gasoline onto the flames. "He doesn't go here, and he’s probably not big on parties. But I think Nursey should ask anyway!" Holster lights up like a Hanukkah candle and stumbles back off the bench in order to squish in on Derek's other side instead, leaving him flanked by both meddling seniors.

“Like always, actual genius C. Chow is completely right. You miss 100% of the shots, etcetera, you know the rest. If you need help asking-”

“We got your back. Nursey, you know we’re here for you,” Ransom says gravely.

“Yeah, of course. Thanks guys, but I'm, uh. I'm gonna sleep on it first.”

“Working up to it, eh? Well, you just let us know.” Rans claps him on the arm and starts tearing into his omelette; Holster watches Derek for half a minute more with two eggs bunched up in his cheeks, but also slaps him on the back eventually, and returns his attention to the table conversation.

Derek pointedly refuses eye contact with Chowder, who huffs a bit, and concentrates on slathering butter on his toast while he mulls everything over. Was Chowder right about yesterday?

Dex and Derek...they sort of joke around about it sometimes. Fake-flirting, pet names – Derek instigates it most times, just to see the glowing flush that overtakes Dex’s skin and the flash of teeth he shows when he snipes back. But when Dex isn't too busy rolling his eyes right out of their sockets he plays along, calling Derek ‘angel face’ and ‘pumpkin’ and ‘sugarplum’. It's just a harmless thing they do. It never means anything.

But yesterday, Dex had been genuinely flustered, and it makes Derek feel restless with questions.

“C. Chowder. Chris,” he hisses, resorting to kicking Chowder under the table until he stops talking to Tango about video games.

“Derek,” Chowder says, beaming, as he literally rips a banana in half. He always eats fruit in these weird-ass ways that Derek has chosen to accept as one of his few shortcomings. “What’s up?”

“Yesterday, with Dex...was he really- do you think he thinks that I’m-” Chowder chews and nods encouragingly while Derek flounders for words. He gives up and winds up demanding, “Am I hot now?”

“Like, objectively? You were always cute, in this quiet way, right? But I dunno, you really grew into your own over the summer,” Chowder says thoughtfully. He places his hand delicately to his chest and scrounges up a parental sigh. “Guess my boy’s finally growing up!”

“Four months younger than you, Christopher.” Chowder just simpers at him, some stray banana mush falling off his cheek. “I don’t feel different. I mean, yeah, we’re the same height now, but the other stuff-”

“Like I said, you were always cute! But you look more...grown-up now? And it really works for you, buddy! And it really really works for Dex, haha.” At Derek’s look of pure, overwhelmed disbelief, Chowder blinks, then takes pity on him, offering a real smile. “Nursey. Don’t tell me this is a surprise to you. He, like, always calls you pretty.”

“Yeah, but that’s-”

Chowder shakes his head as he folds his two banana peels into a stack. “Just a joke? You don’t see the way he looks at you sometimes; I know you’re besties and all, but sometimes he- how do I put this. He lingers? You’ll say something funny, or interesting, and he kind of traces your face with his eyes. And sometimes it’s like he’s studying for a test he needs to pass. Whoa, now I’m getting poetic, but seriously. He can be kind of intense. Pay attention next time, and you’ll see.”

Derek doesn’t need to wait until next time. He's already replaying memories, sifting through for any evidence that what Chowder is saying is true. It doesn't help that Dex spends a lot of time being intense about one thing or another, but pieces start to fit together, moments coming into clarity as Derek thinks about them longer. The way Dex’s amber eyes turn dark and pensive sometimes when he looks over at Derek, an unnamed heaviness passing between them. How the corner of his mouth unfolds into the curve of a smile on occasion, even when Derek isn't particularly amusing. How serious he sounds when he gives out a rare, unprompted compliment.

Derek doesn’t know what to do with this information. He needs more time to process it, so he turns his attention to the other matter that’s come to mind. “How do you see all of this stuff? It sounds obvious when you point it out, but it’s like I’ve been blind this whole time.”

“I just notice things. About you guys, about the team. I like watching people, seeing how they move and think. Maybe it’s a goalie thing?” he laughs.

“No, I get it. But- you’re a good friend, Chowder,” Derek tells him, because Derek likes people-watching too, but Chowder gets him and Dex both. He knows so much more about the people around him than he'll probably ever get credit for.

“Aw, thanks! You’re a good friend too. My question, though, is what are you gonna do about this? Not that you have to do anything! I just don’t want things to be weird.”

“I. Don’t know?” Derek says helplessly. “It’s flattering, but he’s my best friend, and I don’t- I’m not sure if either of us want anything else? It might not even mean anything; like, I’ve always thought Dex was cute, but that doesn’t mean-”

That doesn’t necessarily mean Derek wants to pursue a relationship with him. Dex is attractive, sure, but he's Derek’s best friend. Those two things don't necessarily make them romantically compatible. If Derek took the time to really consider it, could he honestly see him and Dex dating?

Could he imagine going with Dex to winter formal? Dex would probably hate it, grumbling about his two left feet, and the ridiculousness of hiring a DJ for a high school dance, and how preppy everyone looks. He'd chirp Derek for it too, while helping the hockey team demolish the refreshments table, but then compliment him later on some surprising detail like his choice of tie color or the way he's done his hair. Derek would wheedle until Dex agreed to a dance, the two of them swaying stupidly to a slow song, before Derek tries to put his dance lessons to good use. Dex could be convinced to stay for a few more songs, but they'd stay in the corner with the wallflowers, where the lights are dim and the white streamers hang in sweeping loops under silver and spangled balloons. They're about the same height now, broaching six feet, and Dex’s broad hand would rest heavy against Derek’s waist or shoulder, but it would probably link pretty perfectly with Derek’s own hand.

Could he imagine them going to the movies together, sitting in the back row of some noisy summer blockbuster and stealing overpriced raisinettes and nachos from each other? Dex would never spring for snacks, but he wouldn't be able to help himself from swiping food from Derek if Derek decided to be disgustingly extravagant and purchase five different boxes of chocolate. It would start innocently enough, Derek pressing caramels and junior mints into Dex’s hand each time he reached over, until his boxes were empty and he could trick Dex into holding hands with him the next time he reached.

Could he imagine trying to make dinner together? Or spending nights together in Derek and Chowder’s dorm room, Dex tucked in Derek’s away game sleeping bag on the floor next to them? They'd talk until morning about poetry and unsolved mysteries, stupid childhood mishaps and unimportant truths, and maybe when Chowder wakes up it’ll be to the sight of Dex curled up next to Derek on his bed (but he'll never tell).

Derek could take him to the amusement park with the team. Dex would probably like roller coasters like Ransom and Tango. Derek would force him to ride the teacups twenty times with him and Chowder, and drag him through the mirror house. He'd buy him funnel cake and corndogs and more cotton candy, fresh-spun and as pink as Dex's face would be if Derek tried to sit up next to him on the ferris wheel.

They could go explore the historical side of Boston, or tour the haunted houses of Salem, or drive east to Gloucester and Rockport to see the North Shore. They could roadtrip straight across to California, or to Niagara Falls, or to see the Grand Canyon – any of the places that Dex as said he'd like to visit someday.

Derek would take him home to Manhattan. Mama would love him, this prickly, weathered forest boy who she can feed and wrap in a cocoon of blankets. Mom would be more cautious, but dad would convince her, once they bonded over fleecing people in card games, and car maintenance and I Love Lucy. Dex would stay in the guest room, but Derek would sneak him into his room, where Dex would tease him about his choice in posters and the felt solar system mobile mom made for him when he was a baby, still hanging over his desk. They'd lie under Derek’s covers, listening to ATCQ and Run-D.M.C. before Derek gives him a rundown of the music of the last five years, since Dex doesn't know any songs more recent than the top of the charts from 2008.

He'd toss book after book from his shelf into Dex’s lap, recommending every single one despite all the protests. They would drag Derek’s comforter out to the balcony to watch the sunrise together, Dex leaning his head on Derek’s shoulder, his hair the same color as the sun-dyed sky brushing over Derek’s collarbone, and their hands tentatively linked together under the blanket.

Maybe by then Derek will have gathered up the nerves to kiss him.

...wait, hold up.

“Nursey, you in there?” Chowder asks gently as Derek lowers his forehead to rest on the table.

“Yeah, I’m here. Just need a minute to process some stuff,” he mumbles weakly back.

Dex would close his eyes, pale lashes fanning out to flutter against his cheeks in anticipation. Derek would lean in, his heart hammering in sixteenth notes, trying not to crush Dex’s fingers in his grasp. It would be soft, Derek thinks, though sometimes talking to Dex makes him feel like every part of him is burning, whether with frustration or fondness or amusement. They could kiss like a fistfight, but that first time, at least, would be gentle. As silly as it seems, Dex would probably taste like the pie du jour, and he would be warm – so warm and solid against Derek’s skin that he could ignite.

That’s how it would go, he thinks.

Okay, okay, cool cool cool. So he wants to date Dex. This isn’t exactly new; he’s always wanted to hang out with Dex outside of the woods, anyway, like besties do.

He also wants to kiss Dex, so there’s that. It's fine. So chill. Just the chillest.

“I think I might be fucked,” he finally tells Chowder, who nods sympathetically and gives him his glass of chocolate milk in solidarity.

“Like I said, you don’t have to do anything. But the possibility is there. Maybe you should take a chance.”

“Okay, I- uh. I’mma think it over a little longer.”

Chowder narrows his eyes. “Like a hundre-”

“Yeah, yep, like a hundred years longer. I don’t wanna mess everything all up?” Derek says, trying to express with his hands the breadth of this situation. “He’s really important to me, C. I can’t fuck this up.”

“No, I get it. Take your time. And when you figure it out, make sure to let my great-grandchildren know, yeah?”

Derek laughs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Sure thing, Chowder.”

He just needs time to sort it all out: his own feelings, Dex’s strange behavior and lingering looks, and that possibility of something more. He just needs a chance to work through this thing that feels so unexpected yet undeniable, before any more surprises come his way.

[lovehotelreservation]

Summertime Swelter - Boiling

Summary: It’s no surprise that Jotaro strives to be like that of the ocean, to remain calm and collected even with its sheer size and depth. However, much like the sea, once the waters become vicious, there is nothing that soothe his temper--especially when he notices Josuke and Okuyasu checking you out.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Reader/Jotaro

HELLO EVERYONE! There’s no one better to cap off a theme about fiery moods than with our resident Ocean Man himself~! I truly hope you all enjoyed yourselves! Thank you so much for reading--especially the lovely @multicoloredwaves for this theme--and I’ll be seeing you later for the next serving of spam!

Enjoy!

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The ocean during the summer made for a refreshing escape from the overbearing heat.

Waters remained calm, unprovoked even as eager beachgoers rushed ahead to dive into. Perhaps every now and then a sizeable wave would come forth, which only delighted beachgoers.

It made sense why you often compared Jotaro to the ocean for the noted reasons. His stoic coolness, keeping to himself despite plenty of people reaching out to interact with him. With his love for the sea, the comparison seemed like a match made in heaven--much like the two of you, as evidenced by the silver band on your left finger.

However, it was because of this ideal comparison that when witnessing the ocean become vicious with the brewing of a storm, the same could easily be said of your fiancé as well.

Waves swallowing the sandy shoreline as its tides rose, crashing against and pounding the natural rock formations and cliff sides.

Similar to the way his hips were barreling into yours.

A quaint, little home by the beach that overlooked the ocean was ideal for the two of you gazing out towards the endless sea with coffee in hand, or late-night conversations amidst the summer heat with the scent of salt water in the air. It also made it easy for Jotaro to quickly drag you back home after you spent the afternoon with Josuke and Okuyasu.

Your fiancé was a busy man, unlike the two college students who were eager to spend summer break by the water. As their university wasn't far from where you both lived, they took the chance to come visit. Since Jotaro was busy with writing out his newest thesis on South China Sea dolphins and their migration patterns, you were prepared to play host by yourself.

But then he saw what swimsuit you were wearing to the beach while you made your way to the front door, suddenly deciding that perhaps he needed a break from writing.

For Jotaro, his decision was sound, given by how Josuke and Okuyasu were utterly awestruck when you all met up at the beach. Flustered, the former ended up blurting out that if your swimsuit were to ever become damaged during your day out, he would be more than happy to fix it with Crazy Diamond. The latter was near tears, pleading for the numbers and Line IDs of "any other beautiful, sexy friends of yours!"

Your lover couldn't find it in himself to utter out "good grief," for there was simply nothing pleasant about having his younger delinquent of an uncle and his best friend ogling you. Though, the two seemed to get the picture when your attention was focused upon the lively scenery of the beachfront, realizing that Star Platinum seemed to have been silently called forth while its User remained eerily quiet about this occurrence.

Still, with you frolicking around the water in such a form-fitting swimsuit that bared a generous amount of skin, they were honestly willing to take a punch. For Okuyasu, it meant being able to apply sunscreen on hard to reach spots on your back. Josuke, on the other hand, was thrilled by the thought of you wading out to the water, suddenly shrieking and grabbing onto his--as you would gasp and fawn over--muscled arm of youthful strength when you noticed a shark that was looking to have a bite of your sustenance, but it was all cool and dandy because he'd protect you by launching it all the way to the Atlantic Ocean.

It didn't help that you looked to be amused by all this, giggling and referring to their shock and awe as silly. Even worse when there was a mischievous glint in your eye when you nudged his side, humming out, "Oh no, Jotaro. What ever am I going to do? How can I resist these cuties fighting for my attention?"

The thought of their hands "accidentally" grabbing at your swimsuit-clad bottom in their conquest for you returned to Jotaro's head once more in the present, which made him clench his teeth and your hips even tighter.

It was why when your day out at the beach had come to an end, rather than invite them back to your house, Jotaro affirmed that you both would meet the two tomorrow for breakfast. It was why he seemed to be in such a rush to take you back home. It was why he took your wicked grin as means for him to yank you right to his chest and rip the swimsuit right off of your body.

Not even making it all the way to the bedroom, the hallway just a step beyond the genkan served as the best place for him to convey his jealousy. Pinned and held up against the wall with ease, your arms remained wrapped around your lover's neck, all while you cooed and moaned as you felt the thick girth of his cock stretch and ravage your core with each thrust.

For someone who kept his affection from a distance, there wasn't a moment when you felt any gap between the two of you. Caged by the sheer, bulking mass of his body, his lips sought out whatever they could touch: your mouth, the nape of your neck, the skin of your chest. He savored the faint presence of sea salt on your flesh, which, combined with your skin, only made him want to possess you even further. Mellowed out by time and age, you could feel that boyish abrasiveness from his delinquent youth clawing its way out of him.

After all, his actions were the result of one reason:

I'm jealous and no mere boy can have you.

Would either Josuke or Okuyasu know how to pleasure you exactly how you liked it? Pride led to the downfall of pompous assholes like Dio, but Jotaro was certain that neither could ever come close to him. This applied to any other person in the world, really. Being someone who could understand his undisclosed emotions with a simple glance, he wanted to keep you by his side no matter what.

In the same regard of how you understood him, he knew you thoroughly, especially when it came to making you squirm and claw at his broad shoulders while you shamelessly moaned and begged for more. And he obliged, albeit on the rougher side considering that little mischievous look you gave him earlier--something that he knew you enjoyed.

Jotaro gripped onto you, you clung onto him. Close, never to part, forever to remain.

Intertwined you would stay, amidst breathless cries and shuddering bodies.

You were in a daze when your fiancé rolled off of your body, only to be hoisted on top of him, anchored down by one heavy arm draping over your back. His other hand reached over to grab something from his nightstand drawer--a box of cigarettes and his favorite lighter.

Amused, you proceeded to snatch them right out of his hands, insisting that you do the honor of lighting his cigarette for him--an apology for earlier. He only snorted, a small grin tugging on his lips, which parted for you to do just that.

Jotaro blew smoke to the side, right as he felt your lips kiss the side of his neck. He heard you murmur something, which in turn drew out a small chuckle from him while his arm held you closer,

"Being an adult with you is fun, darling. I don't think anything--or anyone--could ever compare~"

The ocean was at peace.