#so I've basically only had one beer in the last three years

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

congrats on 2222!! soulmate au with frankie would be so cute. I love frankie sm he’s just the cutest 😍

Hi lovely! Thank you for this prompt. I was a bit apprehensive because I've read one (1) soulmate AU in my entire life and wasn't sure if I could do it justice. But obviously, Frankie takes this by the ears and I just had the best time writing it. This is also a college AU because apparently I love AUs set with Pedro boys in college 🤷🏻‍♀️

This drabble is actually an AU of an upcoming fic I have in the works, called Summer House (with a lot less angst and pain). I hope you like it sweet anon!

Frankie Morales x soulmates AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1346 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, college AU, inexperienced reader, drinking games, friends to soulmates

Sometimes, you wonder what colour Frankie’s eyes are.

It’s not something you wonder about often, not when everyone has grey eyes - but not really. One day, when you kiss your soulmate for the first time, you will see their eye colour, and they will see yours.

So you definitely don’t have any business wondering anything of the kind about Frankie at all, seeing that you two do not get along. Never have, probably never will, despite having been in the same close knit group since you were kids. Benny has long played the second to your principal in your duels with Frankie, while Santi is his, with Will keeping the peace whenever you get into a particularly thorny disagreement.

But that’s the funny thing about friendship. Despite your bickering, you got his back, and you know he has yours.

You’ve heard about it once or twice through the grapevine in high school, but finding one’s soulmate seems to be a dime a dozen in college, with happy news dropping left, right and centre throughout the academic year.

While you’re not in a hurry to find your fated other half, you start thinking that you should at least get started with the kissing part. You’re way behind your friends and peers on that front, somehow missing out on the formative experience despite being a regular fixture at house parties at high school, then sorority parties in your freshman year in college.

You really should blame the boys. No one wants to risk messing with a girl who has three hulking seniors and one equally hulking sophomore at her beck and call, not when there are far easier options around.

But you know it’s not just that, and you’ll only admit it when you're drunkenly tucking yourself into bed, alone yet again after another party. It feels like you’re the only person your age who’s still (stupidly) holding onto the hope that your first kiss can be something, not just a sloppy makeout session with too much tongue and too little meaning.

And so you find yourself, still never been kissed, when summer rolls around at the end of your first year at college. Your gang of five is about to shrink to just you and Benny, with the rest of the boys enlisting after they graduate, and the impending farewell upsets you more than you care to show.

The five of you spend the first week together at the Millers’ summer house after school lets out, as has been tradition since you were kids - with your parents when you were younger, but it’s been just kids for the last few years.

Well, just the kids plus one, since Frankie always brings a girlfriend. Unfailingly, it's someone beautiful with perfect hair who has a wandering eye for the other boys, and hates your guts for being the only girl in the group.

On the last night, the guys invite a select crowd over for one final hurrah before they go home and get ready to ship out to basic training the following week. Music is booming, cheap beer is flowing, and you’re all in the garden, the sticky Floridian heat clinging to you like a second skin.

Ironically, it’s Frankie’s girlfriend who wants to play spin the bottle. He sits opposite you, his Standard Oil cap pulled over his eyes but failing to hide his annoyance at being forced to participate. You roll your eyes at him across the circle, and he gives you a middle finger back.

Will, the self-appointed gamesmaster, spins the bottle set on a pizza box atop the lawn.

It spins, and spins, and spins - until it doesn’t.

You look on in sheer horror when the bottle stutters to a stop squarely before you, the other end pointing at Frankie, who turns green with nausea.

‘FUCK NO!’

You attempt to run, only to be tackled to the ground by Santi, who practically hauls you by the waist back to the circle as you kick and scream.

Frankie, on the other hand, has to be restrained by both Miller brothers.

‘I have a girlfriend!’ he shouts, digging the heels of his beat-up sneakers into the grass.

She doesn’t seem to mind though, clapping gleefully along with everyone else, chanting, ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’

Shoved toe to toe in the middle of the circle under watchful eyes, you exchange vicious glares. Frankie’s broad shoulders are hunched over defensively, arms crossed. It’s strange, you’ve known him forever, but this is probably physically the closest you’ve ever been to each other without being locked in a fist fight.

Warmth bounces off his tightly wound up frame as he towers over you, and by some folly, you feel an inexplicable pull.

You fight the staggering want to bury your nose in that grey tshirt (the one he wears Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and restocks at Old Navy when it wears too thin), to swipe that hat off his head to brush the curls from his face, to look into his eyes - and see what colour they are.

In the end, Frankie breaks first - you’re not sure if it’s the jeering and goading from the crowd or your stubborn standoff that makes him snap. Grabbing you by the elbow, he hauls you firmly into his chest before you can react.

You should be embarrassed, mortified that this is how you’re going to end up losing your first kiss. And yet, losing doesn't seem like the right word.

There’s a deep-seated calmness inside you, knowing that it’s going to be Frankie. The boy you’ve known since you were three, the teenager who used to make you cry with stupid juvenile pranks, and the man now who wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch if anyone even looks at you the wrong way.

As soon as the tip of his proud nose brushes yours, your eyes slide shut of their own accord - and he kisses you.

God, his lips are so soft. Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees wobble so dangerously that your fingers twist into the front of his tshirt, holding on for dear life.

Can he tell that you don’t know how to kiss, at all? Does he think you’re terrible? The fact that this feels so fucking perfect despite having no idea what you’re doing sets you on edge, a magnifying glass trained on your inexperience in a way that makes you stiffen with nerves and awkwardness. 

He must be appalled at how bad you are, especially after the litany of gorgeous, more experienced girls he’s been with over the years. You can’t believe you’re subjecting him to this, how would he ever look you in the eye afterwards -

But then, something shifts when his hands find your waist, palms easily spanning the small of your back as he pulls back for air, but only just, still so close that you can feel the tickle of his beard on your chin. There’s an unmistakable hitch in his breath, a tremour as he exhales, which in turns makes you tremble and switches off the unwelcome commentary in your head.

It’s as if he wants you.

Before you can think too hard, Frankie leans in and kisses you again, harder this time, the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth, and heat chases down your spine like a meteor. He sucks on your bottom lip when it falls open in a gasp, dipping between your lips with a clever swipe of his tongue against yours that makes you shudder and whimper, which he swallows with a possessive growl.

Your lungs are burning when he draws back, his nose still touching yours.

Then he calls your name.

You blink as your eyes open -

Frankie’s staring at you, lips parted, his gaze reverential. Like he’s never seen you before. Reaching up, he takes your face in his hands, calloused palms on your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the tears that won’t stop. You break into a watery grin, which he mirrors, a warm chuckle rumbling in his chest, holding you close as everything falls into place -

Frankie’s eyes are brown.

Note: In case it's not clear, in this fic, everyone’s eyes appear grey. You can only see your soulmate's eye colour after you kiss them for the first time.

[nautiscarader]

What the hecking heck happened with me - THE UNNECESSARY (and kinda boring) SEQUEL

So you might have noticed I have been absent for the past 2.5 weeks. So, where have I been? What has happened to me?

Well, you see, I got this magical music box, and when I opened it, I was transported into a different world full of talking frogs, toads and-

Wait, I've done this bit already.

....

Yeah, got into hospital. AGAIN.

Same warning as before applies, regarding medical stuff. Especially if you are eating.

Chapter 13: Wednesday Night's fever

So around three weeks ago I found myself really sapped of strength. Well, as you might recall, I basically had a fall and got wounds on my hip. Or to put it in another words:

Well, something from those wounds got infected or something and started affecting my whole body. The effect? Pretty much daily ~38C (~100F) fevers that drained me of energy.

No, buddy, the solution is paracetamol.

That was helping me daily when I was in hospital while getting some long-term antibiotics.

So, yeah, not to blow the trumpet, it was pretty much that: drips, pills, drips, pills, gastroscopy, drips, pi-wait, what did I say AND WHAT IS THIS THING-

Chapter 14: Gastroscopy

So I had to have gastroscopy done, which, in case you don't know is basically a tube with camera being inserted into your esophagus and-

Yeah, not pleasant. But the whole thing lasted only about 10 minutes, and the worst part was the first 30 seconds. So, no biggie. Now, let's talk about....

Chapter 15: Neighbours

Because they were really an odd collection.

First one was just an old dude who hated when I asked to open windows (and of course just as I was admitted spring temps have arrived)

Second one was a detective! In fact he has just solved a murder mystery that happened in the adjacent room! And the murderer was his roommate!

... yeah, he was pretty out of touch with reality, they took him after a day.

And then comes our star: Typical Janush, or Ordinary Janusz, as the Polish meme goes (don't worry if you don't get it)

This absolute unit of Polishness with huuuuge beer belly, bald spot and moustache has brought with him in his bag of holding:

coffee and sugar (nothing spectacular tbh)

TWO different chocolate waffers packs,

two strawberry chocolate bars,

Toffee sweets,

coffee sweets,

TWO different types of sausages,

home-made chicken wings,

and a jar of pickled mushrooms (fereality-indy DNI)

What else did he have in it? I don't know, and frankly, I am scared of the possibilities. This guy could give Mary Poppins a run when it comes to that bag.

He cursed like a sailor when he watched the news - and he watched all the news, he was funding the TV, so he might as well get what he's paid for.

He was also... really kind. He helped me with everything I couldn't do, sometimes faster than the nurses. Really awesome dude.

And the last one who was admitted JUST as I was leaving, was a 96-year old grandpa with some gastric problems. What problems? I don't know, but imagine a cat coughing up a furball... at a volume of a small steam locomotive. At 2 a.m. Every half an hour.

i only had to deal with him for a day.

He also brought... a flask with him.

The one they usually sell spirytus in. Now, it did NOT contain alcohol, just lemon-flavoured water.... but you had to see the nurse's reaction when he was seen casually drinking from it :) He was politely told to use other vessels.

And as a bonus, there was a guy in adjacent room who sometimes visited us and wore a curious t-shirt.... you know the "how do you do fellow kids" meme, right?

and how they just wrote "music band" in order to avoid problems with AC/DC copyright?

Well, his T-shirt had a generic basketball and words "Basketball Team est. 1992". And that's it. No other allusions to, say, Chicago Bulls, or any other team. Just that.

We have reached singularity, people.

Chapter 16: In conclusion, it was mostly boring

Yeah, I have to admit, this stay wasn't that eventful, which I guess I should count as blessing. What else to add... Oh, all the nurses were h*cking cute!

One even recognised me from my first visit!

So, yeah, now I've done the unpacking, and oh boy, you always collect lots of stuff you then forget about.

Like-

Wait, the heck is that?

It... it looks like I have written a 4k Glitch Techs G-rated fic... on my phone! Which has non-existent keyboard! Wait, that can't be right...

It's mostly done, but not finished... Still, it's a shame if it got wasted, right?

[yourlocalgayfrogboy]

Part 2 of Shoto Todoroki x Wayne! Reader

You can find part 1 here

If you are a Minor please be aware that this will have some cussing. Also, this is a little mature because of the cursing.

Warnings: Cursing, crude humor, slight gore.

Pairing: Shoto x Wayne! reader

Song: Reckless by Madison Beer

Requests are open

Roy was nearing me on the stage. While I had just finished singing the song Jason had started. I look over to Jason and motion my shoulder toward Roy. Right, you need background. I dated Roy for three years and it was nearing our 4 year anniversary I found him with my best friend Thea Queen. In the bed we made. So now I've blocked both of them on every social media site known to man. Tumblv, FaceJournal, Instapic, everything even on WayneTube. Yes, WayneTube it's owned by my father's corporation. Not that it matters. It matters. I looked behind me and saw that the band was back up. I only had one choice. Delay the inedible.

"Hello everyone, Thank you so much for coming to my event. Raising money for Kyoto University Kyoto Hospital. This hospital had found a way to basically get rid of cancer in my mother; she only had a 27% chance of living, and Kyoto found a way to save her. They gave her a chance at living again. She'll finally see me grow up. Because for all this time I've lived with my dad. If it wasn't for him this event wouldn't be possible. So thank you." I was wiping away the tears that had managed to roll down without notice. I looked beside me and saw that Roy had reached me he had a look on his face and I knew it wasn't good.

"I need to talk to you." I shook my head at Roy and started walking down the stage. I went towards the refreshment table where Mr. Todoroki was. "Please n/n I need to talk to you." I won't give him my attention. "I'm sorry, I know that I hurt you I shouldn't even have slept with her." I turned around to him and looked him in the eye.

"No, you don't get to apologize. You hurt me more than anyone in my life. I can see that you're happier with her. I'm not her. So don't even try." He looked at me and shook his head in defiance.

"I'm not going to do that. I'm not happy with her I'm happy with you. I understand that you think that but I'm telling you that I want you." I had an angry look on my face. I turned back around and started marching toward the table. I grabbed a glass of Champaign downing it. If I'm going to face him might as well drink something.

"Hey this is story I hate

And telling it might make me break

But I'll tell it anyway

This chapters about

How you said 'there is nobody else'

Then you got up and went to her house

You guys always left me out..."

I remember the pian like it was just yesterday. HIs open mouth and Thea's shocked eyes pleading me to forgive the worst things she's done to me.

"I still have the letter you wrote

When you told me I was the only girl

You'd ever want in your life

I guess my friends are right..."

He promised me that we'd be forecger but hed decided I wasn't worth his time. You know, everyday I asked myself why I was so stupid to fall for a guy who wouldn't even treat me right.

"Each day goes by and each night I cry

Somebody saw you with her last night

You gave me your word don't worry about her

You might lover her know but you loved me first

Said you'd never hurt me, but here we are

Oh, you swore on every star

How could you be so reckless with my heart?"

I should have listened to my brain when it was saying that you were not good. But I was stupid enough to listen to my heart unprotected.

"You check in and out

Of my heart like a hotel

And she must be perfect, oh well

I hope you both go to hell

I till have the letter you wrote

When you told me that I was the only girl

You'd ever want in your life

I guess my friends are right

Each day goes by and each night I cry

Somebody saw you with her last night

You gave me your word "Don't worry about her"

You might love her now but you loved me first

Said you'd never hurt, but here we are

Oh, you swore on every star

How could be so reckless with my heart?

How could you be so reckless?

How could you be so reckless?

How could you be so reckless with someones heart?

Hey, this is a story I hate

But I told it to cope with the pain

I'm so sorry if you can relate."

I won't let him into my heart ever again. He hurt me so much and I'm not letting him hurt me again. So I'm taking his apology with a grain of salt. I won't let him even try. Never again. "Please hear me out n/n"

"I've had enough of you Roy. I'm finally happy and I've finally found someone who loves me for me. So please don't you come here trying to come back. Especially if we reviewed your phony excuses and how I let you break every bone in my back."

Like for Part 3

[justzoni]

Life Updates

With the U-KISS Comeback, I've had a few PMs here and on Facebook asking if I, too, will be making a comeback.

The short answer is no, I have no plans to resume writing fan fiction. That's not to say I never will, but it's not in the books right now.

For a longer answer, I'll go ahead and give you guys a life update. Under a cut, of course, to save everyone's sanity.

Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that I am an incredibly laid back, happy person. I go with the flow, don't get irritated or upset, and have an easy time handling problems when they arise.

That being said, there is one thing that pisses me off like nothing else: people who try to tell me what I am or am not capable of doing. And yes, when people do that, I can also hold a grudge.

Five years ago, my ex walked out on me twelve days after I had major abdominal surgery, when I couldn't even lift a gallon of milk or take care of myself properly. Before she did, she made a few statements that really got to me. She said that autistics can only have jobs, not careers. I was told that I should be grateful that I could find retail work that paid $15 an hour, because that was all I was worth since I didn't have a college degree. And I was also told that I should count my self very lucky that I had someone to "help out" financially.

To add to this, my doctors had told me that I would never run a mile, couldn't lift weights, and would never be able to leave the house without having an inhaler in my purse or pocket because to do so would be risking death.

When I say that I hold a grudge, I think what I really mean is that when people tell me shit like that, I tend to do everything I can to prove them dead wrong.

So, over the last five years, I have built a strong and successful career. I have become a recognized expert in my field, with a great reputation. I went from making $15 an hour to making well into the six figures. I traded in my tiny rented room in New York for a big, beautiful house in an upscale neighborhood in Nashville. The junker I was driving that would occasionally die at the worst times was sold off and replaced with a new SUV with all the bells and whistles.

And to top it all off, I got myself to a point where I was running five miles every morning and didn't have a second thought about my asthma.

I fixed everything but my severe trust issues.

Two years ago, I met a guy named Mike. We had a lot in common: he works in tech, loves dogs, loves movies, and is a craft beer enthusiast. Great. But I wasn't sure I wanted a relationship at all, as I had been determinedly single and had worked hard to keep myself from getting too close to anyone.

Four months after I met Mike, I got some bad news. My doctor informed me that I needed knee surgery. The surgery was explained to me as a very simple procedure that would take an hour. I'd be able to use crutches for the first three or four days, then I'd be back to full function within two weeks. No big deal.

When I went in for the surgery, I expected Mike to help me back home and help me out the next day, as he had offered. But nothing beyond that.

And then the surgery went very wrong. The procedure that was supposed to take an hour wound up taking half a day. Instead of the minor repair I was told about, the surgeon wound up basically having to rebuild my knee. He described it as the worst damage he had ever seen that wasn't from a single, traumatic incident like machinery accidents.

The recovery I was looking at was this: fourteen weeks before I could put any weight on my left leg whatsoever, six more weeks with severe restrictions and crutches, and very extensive recovery time. My knee still isn't back to full function.

With that kind of a medical situation, I expected Mike to take me home, help me get set up, then maybe call one of my friends to come help me out. After all, he'd only been dating me for about four months, and that was not at all what he had signed up for.

When they released me from the hospital, Mike drove me home and got me settled. He then left... and drove to his house, packed up a large suitcase, grabbed his dog, and moved into my house for the duration of my recovery.

If you'd like to know how to earn someone's trust, that'll do it.

In a little over three weeks, Mike and I are flying to Charleston, where we will be exchanging vows in a public park while surrounded by family. We have a very good life, and right now it is very full with work, wedding stuff, trying to get back into running, and talk of starting a family soon.

I do still occasionally write, but it's almost entirely original fiction. When I do get hit with a wave of nostalgia, I go through and poke at old fan fiction to make some edits and wonder why I stopped writing. But I no longer feel the pleasure and enjoyment that I used to while writing.

I'll leave this for now. Maybe someday I'll be back. Maybe I won't.

In the meantime, if anyone needs to get a hold of me, just shoot me a note. Cheers.

[gtlurker]

Sorry for not updating in bit- but here is chapter eleven of inhuman! Very brief mention of suicide, but otherwise, enjoy!

Chapter eleven

Ronan

After three hours of driving, we managed to get to a safe location. Vix’s house. Vix is one of our long-time clients, she's basically a sister to Atlas and I'm sure she'd let the four of us crash with her until we get this shit figured out. I take a sip of my long cold coffee that Damien bought me at the gas station.

Isabelle and Atlas are fast asleep in the backseat, Isabelle curled up on his shoulder while he leans against the window. It's quite a cute sight to see, especially with how apprehensive they were around each other only two days ago.

“Whose house is this?” Damien asks as he sneaks a glance back at the two sleeping bodies in the back seat. “Her name is Vix, she's Atlas's age, another client of ours.” I responded before reaching back to wake up Atlas and isabelle. “Rise and shine, we're here.”

I shake Atlas a little bit, startling Isabelle awake, yet somehow not waking up atlas. She seems surprised to have woken up on his shoulder, and it takes her a moment to process what's going on. “Where's here?” she asks, her voice as soft and quiet as ever. “A friend's house, she's nice, wake up atlas for me, would you?”

She hesitates then nods with a determined expression, before she reaches up and grabs a handful of atlas’s overgrown hair, and jumps off his shoulder, yanking his hair with all her force before either me or damien could stop her. She lets out a yelp as Atlas swats at her. Luckily, she's able to hold on and dangles right in front of his eyes. Damien reaches back to grab her out of Atlas's face and cradle her in his hand. Looking back at Atlas, he seems less than happy about the way he was woken up. “What? Why did you do that?” he asks as he looks out the window. A look of realization crosses his face as he stares out at the house outside the car.

¨ Does she know we're here?” Atlas asks, and Damien looks at me with an eyebrow raised. I unbuckle my seatbelt and start to step out of the car. ¨She will.¨

Entering the house with two extra people and multiple injuries is probably not what vix wanted to see at eleven o'clock at night, especially since she had been spending the last few years avoiding violence and people she didn't know.

She's a runaway.

At the age of nine she ran away from her grandparents house, there were a total of seventeen other kids and four adults who lived there as well, and money was practically nonexistent. I don't exactly know how she got there or her whole story, but I found her in a place similar to Isabelle, only with a significant difference in founding.

I smile as she rushes downstairs, her curly hair thrown back into a low ponytail and a lovely pink machete clutched tight in her right hand. Her skirt poofs slightly when she jumps over the last three steps and onto the hardwood floor, her socked feet letting her glide for a few inches, her weapon pointed directly at damien. I can see the ´you've got to be kidding me´ in his expression, and I stifle a laugh.

Today has not been his day.

“Whos this doll wielding freak?” vixs asks, her blade still pointed directly at Damien's head. “My sister is not-” “this is damien.” i cut him off before he started a fight with vix, considering that she has a machete and he has a bullet wound, it's not a very fair fight. Her eyes widen with shock, before she glares daggers at the poor guy.

“He's a client of ours, the house was compromised so we just took him with us.” I gave her half a grin before walking to her kitchen to raid her fridge for something to drink. “Stop bringing random clients to my house! Matter of fact, Ronan, your band from here!” vix shouts at me as I pull out a can of root beer from her fridge. She glares at me while I begin to count on my fingers.

“That's the fourth time I've been banned this month! Is that a new record?” i ask cheekily, vix finally lowers her weapons and walks up to damien, she leans forward to examine him for a moment, completely forgetting about the argument me and her were having not even thirty seconds ago. He glares back at her, there is a noticeable height difference between the two of them, with vix only coming up to about his shoulder.

Without so much as a breath of warning, vix snatches Isabelle roughly from his hand with two fingers.

Atlas, Damien and I all immediately gasp and the whole room goes silent. All of our eyes shoot to Isabelle, as her head turns to vix, panic clear in her eyes. Vix stares back, watching as the thing she thought was a doll moved in her hand. She had the same expression as an arachnophobe who just encountered a spider with no one around to kill it.

I take a few steps forward and grab a bowl of fruit from the table behind me, emptying it out onto the couch right as vix screams and launches isabelle into the air before running over to atlas, at the same moment damien launches forward to try and catch isabelle, only to end up on the floor while isabelle lands safely in the bowl.

I can hear her heavy, anxious breathing from here, and I look down at her, taking note of the panic in her expression. I chuckle and watch her for a moment longer, before setting the bowl down onto the side table with her still in it. I'll give her a minute to calm down. Damiens is still lying face down on the floor and vix is still hidden behind a very confused atlas. I clap my hands together and decided that right about now is probably a good time for introductions.

“Alright, vix, sorry for the no warning on bringing strangers into your house, but this is damien.” I say, gesturing to the man on the floor, who for some reason has yet to get up. “And the lady in the bowl, who you threw,” she looks embarrassed, “is Isabelle, damien hired us to rescue her from a lab, and when he came to pick her up, we were attacked.” vix looks a bit surprised when i recap the last two days.

I look back at Isabelle, then at vix. They'll probably get along fine, their both labs grow after all. “Isabelle, we found Isabelle at a lab like the one we found you in, except she had the opposite problem to you.” i'm about to continue explaining when vix jabs me in my neck, hitting a pressure point and making me jump back. “Stop telling my life story.” she says, picking up the bowl Isabelle has been sitting in and gently tilting her onto the table.

“As he was saying, when they found me, I was about forty feet tall, nice to meet a fellow survivor.” she says with a gentle smile, this would've been a very touchy moment, if Isabelle wasn't staring at vix in complete shock, looking at vix like she had three heads. Damien, quiet as a mouse, puts a hand on vixs shoulder, making her jump. "So its you? the experiment they assumed killed herself after escaping, sar-” one swift hit to the head from vix shut him right up.

“Don't call me that, that's not my name.” she says, her expression going from gentle and calm, to cold and dark in just a matter of seconds. Atlas places his hand on vixs shoulder, leaning into her ear and whispering something to quiet for the rest of us to hear, or that was my original thought, from the way the tiny person on the table eyebrows raised. I'm assuming she heard whatever he said.

“It's late, we should go to bed, Ronan, you and Atlas can share the guest room, this asshole can have the couch, Isabelle, you want to come sleep in my room?” she asks, and Isabelle visibly tenses, it's obvious she's hesitant to share a space with someone else she doesn't know. She looks up at Damien, who also does not seem to like the idea either.

Damiens about to intervene, most likely to suggest a different idea, but Isabelle speaks first. “Yeah… that, that sounds good. '' she whispers, i can tell that damien still plans to protest, but i think it'll be good for vix to make new friends, she's not normally this open to sharing her space with others. I think she and isabelle will be good friends. “Before bed, we should clean isas wound.” atlas chimes in, addressing the entire group for the first time since we got here.

And before any of us can react, vix has whisked Isabelle away into the bathroom, leaving the rest of us in the living room alone.

I'm not THE happiest with how this chapter came out, but... yay! New characters!

[kevin-coleman]

Time Left On The Clock

How much time have we got? In life, I mean. Not a lot in the grand scheme of things. We are so encapsulated within our own lives letting the moments pass without noticing them that we think there is time for everything we want to accomplish. In truth, there is not nearly as much time as we think.

Human beings live roughly 80 years. Some lucky few live to see 100 or more. From here in the comfort of my arm chair, 100 seems like a lot but there are trees in the world that are two, three, four times as old. What's 100 years compared to that? Compared to the age of a mountain? What's a mountain's age compared to the earth? We're like gnats. Fruit flies. A spark that flares in the night, here and gone and noticed for only the moment it was burning.

I turned 50 last October and it was not long before that that I was merely 30. Two decades passed in the literal blink of an eye. If I live to be 80 then I have 38% of my life left, if I live to be 80. What starts going through your mind when your phone dips below 40%?

It is helpful to keep this perspective in mind as we move through life, I think. This is not one of those posts that admonish you to join the 5 AM Club, run 10 kilometres then jump out of an airplane and "crush life". This is a post to remind myself that so far I haven't lived up to everything I had planned for myself and whatever time is left is precious.

The road to here was full of detours and sideroads. And a lot of naps.

Some have said, "Yes, but those sideroads got you here. You are who you are because of those detours."

That's true, but at some point a traveller needs to get where they're going. If they wander around, never closing in on the thing they want, then what are they doing? I've got 38% of my life left. Will I spend the remainder continuing to wander?

When I was a young man I wanted to write something that would speak to people, that would stand for something, that would live on after me, but instead I drank a lot of beer, ate a lot of food, and watched a lot of YouTube. Interspersed with that were moments of feeling lost and sorry for myself and wondering why it wasn't coming together. Why wasn't I making it come together?

People are afraid to go after the thing they want because they think they will fail, so why go after it in the first place? Why not distract yourself with a job that fulfills your basic needs, buy some stuff, settle down with someone you can tolerate, have some kids, and be content? I'm not saying those things are bad. They're necessary for life and society, but they are not all. If I had this thing inside me I wanted to do, then we all have something inside that calls us in the same way, whatever it is. Why let all the other stuff crowd it out?

We never make time for the important stuff and that has to change because there will not always be time. I have been writing a lot more in the last month or two than I have in the last year, the last ten years, because the end of the road is up ahead. The destination is still too far away to see with the naked eye, but I feel like it won't be that long before it's within view, and what will I have accomplished?

My father died recently and I have wondered if he left the world having accomplished the thing that called to him. Did he even hear it's voice? I never thought to ask him, which is heartbreaking now that I have thought about it.

I hear the thing that calls me. It's a cardinal singing in a tree. It's a puppy that won't leave me alone. I have to do something to answer back and I have no idea if I'm doing it right but I have to keep moving forward, keep answering. I am getting off the sideroad because I am called to put words on pages and so I will put words on pages until those words are right. The press of time makes the work all the more important because there's not as much left of it as you think.

[dadbodsandbots]

all of the s/i questions for the spider-goon.

ty bestie!!

What is the character’s go-to drink order? (this one gets into how they like to be publicly perceived because there is always some level of theatricality to ordering drinks at a bar/restaurant) Unsweet tea or an iced coffee if On the Job, but a craft hard cider and/or beer if hitting the dive bars. Never let have more than two shots of straight tequila because no amount of pre-hangover food will keep it down, this is a threat.

What is their grooming routine? (how do they treat themselves in private) Usually morning showers, then a cursory washcloth scrub after coming home from fighting goons all day. If work was especially hellish, a long soak in bath salts is a must with a mud mask just to be extra pampered.

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? (Gets you thinking about socio-economic class, values, and how they spend their leisure time) Getting paid in Oscorp Fun Bucks means a HELL of a lot more money than I've seen in my life at one time and that's with a weekly direct deposit hitting. I treat myself to furniture I've been eyeing for years but never had room for, some shit for my Gamer Cave, then throw the rest into savings.

Do they have any scars or tattoos? (good way to get into literal backstory)  Biggest scars are from my timeline Kraven attempting to skin me (Catverse Kraven is a Big Sexy Russian Lady, so it was absolutely 99% avoidable I'm just a wall-crawling bimbo), so there's a different colored patch of skin between my shoulders that healed FAST but never healed just right. Small, barely visible lines across my limbs, neck, and torso where the Catverse Symbiote healed me from massive bodily trauma that would have killed anyone else. Smaller scars include bite/claw marks that I can identify as either Fun (Logan, Venom, Tigra) or Not Fun (Logan, Sabertooth, Hulk, Wendigo). Work-related scars include small thin lines that circle my thumbs and index fingers where my Oscorp-brand wire webs barely cut into the thin flesh due to excessive force during "test runs."

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some *emotional* backstory in.)  Small cry: chronic PMS, saw Man-Thing doing something cute, Lester calling my fashion weeb and cringe. Big cry: 1) Realizing that Catverse you were the last real friend I had before my verse collapsed on itself, and that 616 you will always choose Norman despite the inherent dangers and that I can't protect someone from their final, informed decisions. 2) Being homeless in a literal and cosmic sense. 3) Selling out my spider powers to avoid insecurity at all costs. 4) Catverse Logan ghosting due to unsuccessful communications regarding personal/professional incompatibilities, and worrying about repeating those mistakes with 616 Logan.

Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? (This one might be a me thing, because I LOVE writing/reading about family dynamics, but knowing what kinds of things were ‘normal’ for them growing up is important.) Only child baybe lmaooo this one was boring sorry

Describe the shoes they’re wearing. (This is a big catch-all, gets into money, taste, practicality, level of wear, level of repair, literally what kind of shoes they require to live their life.) "Work" shoes for the vanilla Wolf Spider suit look like medium brown knee-high wrestling boots with reinforced kneepads/joint support for my creaky ass knees/ankles. An original design element is three little "claw" marks at the toe line I painted onto the first pair (wolf spiders have three claws as opposed to two!!). The New and Improved Oscorp boots are basically the same, save for increased durability with green laces to stay on Brand. Off-duty, I usually wear vintage cowboy boots, chunky hi-tops, or shoes I mugged from muggers - especially when I first got dumped into 616.

Describe the place where they sleep. (ie what does their safe space look like. How much (or how little) care / decoration / personal touch goes into it.) IN THE WALLS. No joke, I found several utility spaces forgotten in the recesses of the Oscorp building and turned several into hang-out spots. Norman knows but tolerates it as it means less time for me out in the open to cause trouble, and I can traverse multiple floors quickly during an emergency. As long as nothing catches on fire, he doesn't care. Daken can smell me through the vents and goes through my stuff to fuck with me, mostly eating my food and stealing t-shirts. I retaliate by dressing like his dad and that shit stops real fast lmfao. The multitude of "rooms" means I curate my aesthetic space depending on my mood, which can range from "frat house" to "low light urban garden." It's a mix of shit from the thrift store or curb, and some name-brand home goods I can finally afford with my Oscorp Fun Bucks. Bedding can range from a crash pad I snatched from the training rooms to hammocks made from webbing.

What is their favorite holiday? (How do they relate to their culture/outside world. Also fun is least favorite holiday.)  HALLOWEEN!!! This is a constant no matter what universe. Weird shit happens in 616 all the time, but the REALLY WEIRD SHIT goes down on Halloween. The only downside is that it cuts into my time to party and be a hooligan. Also, never a non-zero chance to fuck a monster. Least favorite is Easter because the candy is shit and [chitters in agnostic]. Christmas doesn't hit as hard as it used to as there always seems to be less people around every year. I'll sooner be at some shithole bar or volunteering to try and feel a little less like a depressed scumbag.

What objects do they always carry around with them? (What do they need for their normal, day-to-day routine? What does ‘normal’ even look like for them.)  If you don't see me carry any Burt's Bees Pomegranate lip balm and double-mint gum, assume I'm a Skrull and shoot on sight.

[countrymusiclover]

1 - Three Troublemakers

Part 2

His Other Admirer

Thunder roars off in the distance as my feet get buried in the sand. Melanie ran off towards the water having Jake hollering after her. "No you won't answer or no you won't marry me?" Melanie shakes her head as I run alongside Jake trying to catch our friend. "Jake Perry, I'm ten years old. I've got too much to live for." She stopped and we all scream at a blast of lighting near us. Melanie and I try to run but he stops us seeing something in the sand where the lightning hit. I bend down on a knee about to touch it but he grabs my hand. "Careful Y/n. It's hot." Melanie held her mouth open in shock. "Cool."

"We'll be safe here." He said looking from me to her. The wind blows my hair in my face as thunder came closer around the three of us. We have all been close since forever. Wherever one of us is the others will follow. To people not living in Pigeon Creek, Alabama we are considered siblings. But we're all just best friends. "Why would you wanna marry me for anyhow?" Melanie asked looking up at Jake as the wind blew his hair from his eyes. "So I can kiss you anytime I want." He smiled leaning down kissing her but I whip my head up seeing lighting breaking through the clouds. "Jake, Mel!" I scream as the lighting strikes where we stand and I get thrown backwards into the sand.

It's been years since then. Jake and Melanie grew up becoming the kids to commit felonies and I was the only one who would bail them out of the sheriff's station. My parents weren't happy but they couldn't say no to their only daughter. Since we're grown up I know what they were thinking back then that those two were trouble. Turns out they were right because Jake got Melanie pregnant right out of high school. She called me crying about a miscarriage and that was the last time we talked to each other. The phone rings in my parents living room so I get up from the porch swing answering it. "This is Y/n. Who is this?" The person on the other end replied making me smile. "Hi Y/n, it's Jake...I was thinking we could get a drink or something tonight." I nearly squeal like I'm a child again hearing him basically ask me out. My parents are out on a night out leaving me board sitting on the front porch watching the sunset.

An hour later Jake's truck pulls in my driveway watching me lock the front door. Shrugging on my leather jacket getting in the passenger seat he smiled driving to his moms bar down the road. Once we're parked he gets out opening the door for me watching me jump out of his truck. "Well if it isn't  my crazy boy and the girl who's always got his back." His mom came from around the bar greeting the two of us. I hug his mom and she hugs me back smiling, since we've always had a good relationship. Jake comes back handing me a beer suggesting we play a game, making me grab a pool stick. "Are you scared to swing a punch at me still Perry?" I taunted lining up to take my shot, hitting the balls. He nearly choked on his beer whipping his head at me. "I'm not gonna hit a girl. My mama raised a good boy." He took his shot hitting the same shot I just did.

"Oh she did...but I don't think that applies to all the money you owe me for bail." Standing my stick up I smirked up at him since he's taller than I am. He took his next shot not doing as good as before. "Is that right honey?" He responded smirking down at me, leaning forward where we're inches from kissing. My right hand squeezes the pool stick tighter trying to not blush at how close we are. Glancing down at me my boots I bite my lip hoping that it isn't obvious that I have feelings for him. It started when we got to high school but he chose to marry Mel. So I've been keeping it to myself for these past years. "If you two are going to start kissing please do it outside. I've gotta start closing up!" Jake's mom hollers from the back of the bar making us focus on her. But out of the corner of my eye I could see Jake's face turning red.

I didn't realize I had drank a lot until Jake has to help me to his truck. He got in the driver's seat lightly chuckling. "I thought you said you could hold your alcohol?" I lean over the consul shoving him before he drove us back to his place. His dog saw the truck and started barking like crazy so he hollers getting out of the truck first. "Shut it Bryant!" The dog lays his head down when he opened my door holding out his hands for me. I try jumping but I ended up stumbling into his arms, pressed up against his chest with his arms holding me up. Lifting my head up slowly I feel my cheeks are red seeing he's staring down at me again, thankfully it's dark so he can't see me blush hopefully. "Let's get you inside before you throw up." I shake my head as he throws my arm over his shoulder helping me up the porch steps and I sit on his couch. "I guess it's been awhile since I went out for drinks....Sorry you're stuck with...me.." I slur my words before he comes over put one arm under my legs and the other under my arms.

"You've got nothin to apologize for Y/n." He carries me into his bedroom laying me down on the bed, starting to leave but I grab his wrist stopping him. He glanced over his shoulder staring into my eyes curiosity in his. "Jakie...will you...stay with me?" He takes his shirt off as I climbed under the covers feeling my eyes getting heavy. The bed dipped when he climbed in slowly pressing his body up against mine. Without thinking I rolled over to face him when he draped his arm over my waist snuggling into his warmth finally passing out.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[robyndehood]

My Son's Story (pt. 1)

DISCLAIMER: I Know it's a bit of a long read, but it's important. Please read. I promise it isn't boring. Thank you!

Hi Everyone,

Intro

This is my first real attempt at Tumblr. Please contact me if anything I post violates a rule or is not considered appropriate. Anything I post, I truly mean no harm nor offense to anyone. But I need to write daily again to regain my gift and share it with the world. I have been working on my version of the "great American novel" for years. As a child, I was well on my way to becoming a successful author, but people had other ideas for my career path - and to put it bluntly - my contribution to society. Writer's block set in and then what was second nature to me - creative writing, became a lost skill. Or maybe a distant memory. Writers know that half the struggle as an artist is the dilemma of our own aspiration towards perfection. But nothing is perfect. It is a social construct and the antithesis of true beauty.

The Ultimate Birthday Gift

So, that said, let's talk about my son. He's three - he's actually turning four in December. He was born on my birthday and has been the greatest gift that I have ever received. I won't pretend that he is perfect or even generally compliant with my directions. But he's loving. He's empathetic. He's brilliant. He's beautiful. And most of all, he is the sweetest person I have ever met.

I am going to go slightly off-topic for a bit; just to paint the full picture. I don't want to ramble and I am definitely a believer that a short and to the point message is almost always far superior to a long and complicated message. But bear with me because this snippet of the backstory is essential. And my son's story is important.

Appalachia

We live in Pittsburgh, part of the Appalachian Mountain Range. There is no other way to say it than the unadulterated, ugly truth of it - Pittsburgh is racist. Very racist. Beyond that, there is a general lack of common courtesy to outsiders, customers of businesses, other patrons in stores, etc. And the rudeness, is actually pretty much unrelated to the racism. It sounds strange and surely, minorities who are on the receiving end of it would certainly assume that racism was the reason why they said "excuse me," "thank you," etc. and about half the time are ignored like they're a ghost. But don't get it twisted - there are many times the aforementioned behaviors by many Pittsburghers IS induced by racism AND a lack of common courtesy and manners. You see, their deep-seated tribalism is indoctrinated into many Pittsburghers so completely from a young age that they know no different. It would be difficult for them to understand this article and I'd bet anyone ten bucks that if enough PIttsburghers read this post - they will attack my analysis of Pittsburghese culture as though the post itself is a blitz on the entire city.

Brown or White?

I am latin and there aren't many latins in Pittsburgh. But when we moved to Pittsburgh when I was in seventh grade, people knew my last name. Summer had just passed and I do get brown. I can get brown very quickly in the right type of sun and I get brown eventually in the sun that exists in cloudy and northern Pittsburgh. In seventh grade, some boys decided it would be funny to call me "estupido," and up until two years ago, I avoided sun exposure that would reveal my "brownness" like the plague.

Subversive, Subconscious, and Secret Racism

So, not long after I started that strategy, I was treated as white. (Side note: latins can be any race; but it seems that societal constructs are seeking to change this long accepted designation and categorize latins as some in between, brown race and not an ethnicity. To be honest, I am ok with that and now proud to be latin.)

The reality of being treated white in Pittsburgh for many years was that I learned what white people actually said when they were only with other whites. The most common thing that was said was one white person mumbling to other white people that someone was a "dumb n******" or a "dumb monkey." I've heard white adults refer to children who were black as "n***lets." But it was always this crocodile smiling through their teeth behavior. They'd never dare say it to a black person. Instead, they'd just indirectly discriminate against them.

I do have to mention that by no means do all Pittsburghers behave this way. It's just too many of them. I don't know the percentage, but if I had to guess I'd say - 50% plus.

Yes, Racism Happens All The Time Even if You Don't See it Happen

Many white people will tell you that racism is gone because they don't ever observe it and Obama was president - a black president. Therefore, everything is now over. I can admit that I have experienced my share of discrimination when my skin darkens. But I had no clue how bad it was for black people out here until my son became the recipient of the ugliness of it all. To me, racists are by definition ignorant cowards; so it makes sense they'd pick on a small boy whose only family is his mother.

Evil Always Starts Slowly

If one reviews history, every evil dictator or regime began slowly chipping away human rights. By the time the citizens realized the dire state of their country, it was too late. Their freedoms were already taken away and mechanisms to fight back had also been methodically erased.

When my son was born - a boy who is half African (his father (if you want to call him that since he is basically not involved) is from Ghana); no issues arose for the first two and a half years. But then the indirect discrimination started. The same rules that applied for white children didn't apply to him. I could give so many examples. But let's just say, as a rambunctious boy, if my son mimicked a white boy's same rambunctious behavior, we were confronted and the white family was not confronted.

One day I made an appointment for my son's hair to get cut at Philip Pelusi. They made the appointment knowing that he was only two and a half. The receptionist let me know that the stylist was a "Grade A Stylist," so I would have to pay more. I was fine with paying more; cool. After the appointment was made, I mentioned to the receptionist that my son was mixed race. We ended the call and I began to get my son ready to leave. Within ten minutes, the salon called back and informed me that they didn't/wouldn't cut my son's "type of hair." I promptly returned the call and explained his hair was curly, that's all. They blatantly lied and told me that the stylist doesn't cut ANY curly hair. Right. So, if a white lady came in with curly hair she would be turned away? I doubt it. Either way, the stylist is "Grade A." She is also licensed to cut hair by the state. Shouldn't a requirement for state licensing require one to know how to cut all "types of hair"?; I saved the recording, by the way, and still have it.

As months progressed, little by little wherever my son and I went in "white areas," we felt hostile vibes. Other incidents occurred that couldn't be proven as racial discrimination, but I knew. Whites behaved as though my son didn't deserve to be around them.

Southern Hospitality

We traveled down south a few times in the past year. Yes, some of the south is very racist still to this day. But not where we drove. Suddenly people responded when we said "excuse me," "thank you," etc. No white families prevented my son from playing with their children. No one told me my son was a nuisance or put out that vibe.

The Lesser of Two Evils?

But we had to come back each time because we live here and I've been working my way out of the projects that I have lived in for four years. Shootings. Open drug use and sales. The smell of crack in the hallways. Infestations in other apartments that come our way no matter what we try. People peeing on the hallway floors. Yes, seriously. Young children being encouraged to bully and beat up other kids. Children stealing or attempting to steal my son's toys because their mothers buy them none. Gamgmembers as young as twelve.

So, I concluded: "yes, we will move, but until then, we only sleep in our apartment and we do not play at the projects' playground." I figured IF I saved a certain number of money since I have a car that I saved for and bought last year, we would make it in our new, chosen city (Tampa or Jacksonville).

But then the racism against my son in the "white playgrounds" became worse. One day he was playing with a five year old boy at an indoor playground. The mother had no issue with it. The father of the boy arrived half an hour in, promptly scooped the boy away from my son, and told his son that he had told him he was not to "play with n*****s." My son couldn't understand why he could no longer play with his new friend and kept calling to him, "friends again!" while sobbing because he thought he had upset the boy. I had to leave with my son because of it.

Another time, a ten-year-old boy taunted my son on an outdoor playground and called him a "dumb monkey." My son first attempted to yell, "I NOT DUMB MONKEY," a few times; but the boy persisted and even smirked in my direction. My son ran to me and asked me to make the boy stop. No parent in sight and again, I just had to leave with my son.

Enough is Enough

Finally, last month or so, my son and I were at our usual laundromat doing laundry. We had finished. My son skipped a few steps in front of me and tried to open the glass door but couldn't push the bar to open it because of his height. He placed (yes, placed..lightly) his foot on the door to try to give it a bit more of a nudge. I was a few seconds behind him so just pushed the door open and we went to our car to load our clean laundry into it. In retrospect, I saw an older white male go next door to the beer store right after we walked out of the laundromar. The beer store employee approached us as I loaded my laundry into my car and then intended to leave.

The beer store employee told me he was getting "reports that kids were kicking glass." He said kids. Plural. And what he said made me envision a bunch of grade school kids kicking around broken glass on the sidewalk or parking lot. I responded calmly that "I have one kid and he's been with me the whole time. He wasn't involved." The beer store employee wanted drama to transpire. It was obvious. He said in a threatening manner: "Just so you know, I have cameras." My son and I exchanged glances because we were confused. What kids? Kids were kicking glass. Where? What glass?

Again though, I calmly responded that my son wasn't involved and he should check his cameras. He told me he was calling the cops. So I got my three-year-old son in his car seat and set a time limit of ten minutes to wait. We weren't running when he didn't do anything. The cops of course showed up about a minute later. It's ridiculous because in our projects (different police department than the laundromat police department), there have been shootings where children were outside playing when several clips were emptied into crowds and the police station is a block away. I know people called and it took an hour for them to arrive on scene.

Long story short, the laundromat cops knew it was a bullshit call. The supposed "kicking glass" was because my son placed his foot on the door to try to open it when we were LEAVING. The police eventually informed us that was the alleged "kicking of glass." There was no kicking that happened. The door wasn't even dirtier, let alone damaged because my son tried to use his foot to open the door. Lightly, by the way.

Even though the police were kind to my son, for the next week, my usual gregarious child was terrified to go anywhere. He eventually told me it was because "the cops will chase me and take me to jail because I bad guy now."

He's over it now. Mostly.

But we still have to pick between the craziness of playing at our aforementioned projects or going to a "white playground" and risking my son being rejected. It's usually a 50/50 shot that he will be rejected. If he gets rejected, he gets very upset.

Again, these are problems we never faced on our travels down the southern eastern seaboard. We didn't get treated like this at the destinations or on the journey by car to and from the destinations.

I knew we were living in an extremely racist and rude area, but one day I found this. It's a map delineating the results of a study conducted by Google and others regarding the level of racism in different parts of the country.

I already knew this much. But it's good to know I'm right that we are in the worst part of the U.S. for racism and the kindness we received traveling to those certain southern states was no illusion. And I did ask locals before I found this map if I was right that people are kinder to all colors in whichever given area.

Not the Worst Thing That Happened But the Last Straw

People talk a lot about Karens these days. This lady looked like she jumped right out of a Karen meme. My son was two feet away from her while we waited in line and she said as obnoxiously as possible: "Can you handle this? Please get him out of MY space." Yeah, I didn't let it go. At all. Her argument was that she said "please" so it's OK to make my son feel like a "this" and not a little boy. I held him while he sobbed. Long story short, I decided right then anywhere has to be better than this.

It isn't me just knowing people are being nasty to my son and I'm upset. He understands. He had an evaluation for something and he tested very well. He cried about each of these incidents. He just wants to make people smile and make friends.

So, next month we are going for it. I'm no where close to the aforementioned goal. I have some savings. We may end up in shelters at first after savings dry up in a few weeks. But we cannot survive up here. Nor can we advance here.

Side Note

I wrote this mostly to inform others of the status quo and reality of racism and the real effects it has on one tiny boy. And I know it will just get worse if we stay since it's this bad already.

But if you anyone knows of any resources to help us get on our feet in a month in Tampa or Jacksonville (Tampa is my first choice, but either one.) I have applied for housing, even though I didn't and don't want to go back to projects; but I'd take one down there over watching my son endure so much pain any day of the week.

Ok, so final part: I'm going to say upfront I feel extremely awkward with this paragraph because this isn't my way (years before my son was born I was homeless for a stint and never sat with a sign or a cup. Just couldn't do it), but for my son, I'm going to drop my cashtag here. Everyone is struggling and I know there are people with much worse problems. I appreciate anyone who has read this far and can help spread the reality of what I wrote about. That's the reason for the article; but if help is received at all because of it, we would be grateful but it's definitely a far second most important reason for the post. Here it goes, for my baby, in case it'll change his life and give us that better foot up, here it is: $RobyndeHood

[lancetuckershairgel]

Summary: Chris and Lily have lunch together and Chris and Erin discuss Lucy's situation.

Words: 1,535

Warnings: child neglect, emotions

Tag List: @jobean12-blog @book-dragon-13 @southernbell91 @marvelgirl7 @buckysforeverprincess @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @buckysteveloki-me @msruchita @mycupoffanfictionreplies

Tuesday finally came and Chris had never been so ready to get to work as he was that day. Instead of spending the weekend relaxing Chris worried about Lucy. He woke up early Saturday after a night of restless sleep and staked out the local food bank. He hoped Lucy would show up but when it closed there had been no sign of the girl. He drove around town hoping he'd be able to find her but nothing turned up. He had even checked the station to see if she'd been picked up for hitting up another gas station. Nothing. 

As soon as he got to his office Tuesday he called Erin. After a few rings she answered. 

"Hey, I need a favor."

"Okay, I'll try." Erin said then Chris could hear her order her coffee. He tapped his fingers against his desk as he waited for her to finish. "Sorry, what's up?"

"I need an address. Lucy."

"Is something wrong?"

Chris explained what had happened on Friday night and Erin sighed. 

"I'll text you as soon as I get in. I'll talk to her."

"Thanks Erin, good luck."

"You want to meet for a drink tonight? I know it's a weekday but we should talk about this."

"I agree. Six okay?"

"Good for me."

Chris hung up and went about his day. He tried to get his mind off of Lucy by interacting with the students and stay busy but he couldn't seem to focus on his given tasks. Around noon Chris went into the lunchroom to grab a slice of pizza. The cafeteria ladies greeted him with flirtatious smiles and he blushed and attempted small talk. He was used to the under the radar advances from his female coworkers, the price of being handsome his mother always told him, even the vice principal had made a pass at him just last week. He normally laughed it off and occasionally flirted back but he was in no position to start a relationship. He wasn't in the right head space that day and was completely oblivious when the cashier had basically asked him out when she made a comment about knowing a really good pizza place in the next town. 

When Chris exited the line he scanned the room for a place to sit. His eyes fell on Lily. She was wearing the same purple sweater she wore every day and she was sitting by herself. Her hair was a bit unkempt and she looked tired. Chris made his way over and sat across from her. 

"Hi Lily. Do you remember me?" 

Lily looked up and instantly brightened at the appearance of her playground friend. 

"Hi!" She frowned, her small lips poking out into a pout "I forgot your name."

"Chris." He chuckled 

"Chris!" Lily repeated with a nod "Why are you sitting here?" 

"Well, I saw you sitting alone and I didnt want to sit alone so I thought we could eat lunch together."

"Okay." Lily seemed satisfied with that answer and went back to looking at her unopened lunchbox "No one ever wants to sit with me."

"Why not?" Chris asked as he took a bite of his pizza "You're great company."

"I never have any cool snacks to trade. Just yucky crackers." Lily paused then leaned across the table and whispered "but today I have a surprise! Don't tell anyone cuz I don't want to trade." 

"What kind of surprise?" Chris whispered back, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide with equal excitement for Lily 

Lily opened her lunch box and as she was pulling out a small baggie Chris looked inside to see a half eaten cheese stick that looked too soft to be safe to eat and a small pack of crackers. Lily opened the bag and exposed three small pieces of broken chocolate. 

"Chocolate!" Lily continued to whisper with a bright smile 

"That's a very cool snack. I wouldn't want to trade either."

"Do you want a piece?" Lily picked up one and held it out to Chris 

"No but thank you. You eat your chocolate and enjoy it." 

"Okay." Lily popped the piece in her mouth "I got a whole bar on Friday and I've been eating little bits at a time because I wanted it to last."

"Good idea." Chris nodded and glanced at her lunch again "Did you already eat your sandwich?"

"I didn't have a sandwich."

"Lunchable?"

Lily shook her head. 

"No just this." 

Chris frowned. That wasn't an appropriate meal for a five year old. 

"Do you want pizza?"

"They don't let me get any because I don't gots any money." 

Chris frowned harder. He hated the county's lunch system and the way they denied kids a meal if they didn't have money in their account.  Some of these kids only ate at school. The system was so messed up yet the higher ups only cared about the money, not the benefit of the student. 

"Here." Chris slid his tray across to Lily who blinked up at him with surprise 

"What?" 

"Eat, honey." 

"Thank you." Lily said quietly and began to eat the pizza hungrily, not bothered by the fact that Chris had already taken a bite of it. 

That afternoon Chris left work in a hurry and climbed into his cruiser. He put the address Erin had text him earlier into the navigation system and drove off in the direction he was told. While driving a hundred different scenarios went through his head but none of them were what he saw when he pulled in front of the home.  A two story house with a freshly manicured lawn and a picket fence. Not what he was expecting. He climbed out and got the bag of groceries from the trunk and made his way up the walkway. He knocked on the door and as he waited he noticed a monogramed sign that said "Brookwood". He frowned. A moment later a young woman opened the door. She looked shocked to see a police officer standing on her porch and she shifted the baby that was perched in her arms to the other hip. 

"Can I help you, Officer?" She asked confused 

"Yeah, I'm sorry to bother you Miss but do you know someone by the name of Lucy?"

The woman wrinkled her nose with puzzlement and shook her head. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know anyone by that name."

Chris apologized, feeling a bit embarrassed and defeated. He went back to his car and text Erin. 

"Really? That was what the file said. Maybe they moved?" 

"Maybe. This just keeps getting weirder."

"We'll talk about it at the bar."

At the bar Chris and Erin sat in silence, both taking long sips of their beer as they contemplated Lucy's predicament. 

"She's been fine since you left. I haven't had to pull her out of class and haven't heard anything from her teachers." 

Erin had decided a while back to not tell Chris about the incident in the bathroom with Lucy. It would only make him feel guilty. Erin had tried to communicate and check up on Lucy but she only received silent glares in return. 

Chris told Erin about Lily and the empty lunchbox today and Erin gave a sad shrug of her shoulders. 

"The government is failing these kids and nothing is going to change unless people start speaking up about it." 

Chris agreed and emptied his beer bottle. 

"I just don't know what to do to help them. Not just Lucy and Lily but all of the other kids that are in these situations." 

"You can't save everyone Chris." Erin reached over and took his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze "Follow your heart. You always end up making the right choices." 

Chris gave her a weak smile. The right choice wasn't always the easiest however. After leaving the bar he went to the station. He sat down at the computer and pulled up Lucy's father's file. 

"He's got warrants in four different states including California." Chris text Erin "Mostly drug charges but he's been in and out of jail since he was younger than Lucy. Domestic violence too."

The file had no address and indicated the man's whereabouts was unknown. Chris decided to look up Lucy's name to see if she had a record. Thankfully she had never been arrested but he did pull a file from social services. Normally he'd need a warrant to do so but he didn't have the time to go through the process of putting in the order and waiting for a judge to approve it. Lucy had been in and out of foster care several times, mostly during her father's incarceration for drugs. There was a second file attached to Lucy's and when Chris clicked it his heart fell. There, staring back at him with big brown eyes, was a photograph of a little girl about three years old. There was no mistaking that it was Lily. 

"Lucy and Lily are sisters?" Chris spoke under his breath "Of course they are." 

Chris closed out the program and rubbed his face. He had reached nothing but dead ends but he knew one thing. He had to find those girls. 

[janiedean]

A Twist: It's Brienne who says, "I've made my choice. What's yours?" She's come to trust him and she's coming to understand that he loves her as much as she loves him, or she wouldn't even ask - but that part of her that won't ever forget what it's like to feel not pretty enough, not good enough, still fears he'll choose his sister in the end. Jaime looks at her and then yells, "DAVOS!" Brienne gapes at him. "... Oh. OH. Right." Davos would like them both to focus on the ice zombies for now.

… you know what fuck it, this won’t ever going to be my best effort bc I’m riding out a cold and I’m still jetlagged but fuck that

also while I was writing this an anon said tormund would marry them and added

Forgot to add: when Tormund asks who stole who, they’re like huh? And then Brienne is like well if you mean me taking him to KL would that count? And then Tormund keeps asking all these questions and he’s like, it’s official. You’re effing married or whatever crap you call it. You stole each other many times. And he’s satisfied that Brienne stole Jaime and no one can convince him otherwise.

I already started this one but I thought I might add that too ;)

– 

The dead are still fucking coming.

Brienne feels like they’ve been cutting them down for years by now and they still keep on fucking coming, and by now it feels like most of them have retreated to the same place in the castle - Ser Davos is behind them, Pod is somewhere to her left, she’s seen Gendry and Tormund somewhere ahead, and by now she barely can feel her arm. She can see Jaime next to her and she’s thanking all the gods that he’s still on his feet and he hasn’t risked dying since she went and cut down that walker that was just above him and about to kill him, and he did the same for her just before, and -

They cut off two at the same time and he turns to her for a second -

“You know,” he says, his sword cutting another wight’s head, “I’m just -”, another wight falls down, “regretting I got here this late.”

“This late?” She shouts, lifting Oathkeeper to kill off the next couple coming.

“Well, I had plans,” Jaime says, “and before, uh, I was about to say I also came North for you, but somehow there wasn’t time, you know.”

For her? Brienne can barely process it, and that’s how a couple wights almost get to her, but she manages to cut them down in time.

“For me?” She shouts back.

He smiles at her for a moment, almost sad -

“I realized that if I had to die I wanted it to be in the arms of the woman I love,” he says, and then gets back to cutting down the next ice undead coming over and Brienne about wants to faint because what he just said -

What he just said -

He came here to die with her or because she was the one he wanted nearby when -

And because he has honor, of course he does, she knows he has -

She doesn’t know why she asks. She hasn’t slept for what feels like ages, she’s cutting down zombies mechanically by now, her muscles feels numb and the man she’s been in love with for years that she never thought would or could actually care for her as anything other than a friend just told her she’s the one he wants to die with and he knighted her and, and, and -

“Jaime!” She shouts, realizing that she hasn’t called him ser for the first time and honestly not caring because it feels good, “Jaime!”

“Yes?” He shouts as he turns to her, his sword held out to impale another wight.

She doesn’t know what is possessing her to ask, but suddenly she wants him to know that she does love him back, she does -

“Marry me?” She shouts, and a part of her expects a refusal, still expects a refusal even after he told her that because she knows she’s not the kind of woman people want to marry and usually women do not propose -

He meets her eyes, and his own are wide in shock, so bright green even in the darkness of the longest night they’ve ever seen in their entire lives -

“I don’t know if now is the best time!” He shouts back, a zombie impaling itself on his sword before he takes it back.

Well.

It wasn’t a no, at least, and that’s probably why she finds the guts to actually press.

“Now might be the only time, if we don’t win,” she says as Oathkeeper slices through a wight headed his way. Then she takes a breath, feeling the sweat running down her face, and right now she’s covered in blood and gore same as him and she doubts she’s more attractive than her usual, as in, none at all, but - “I love you,” she says, meaning it, wishing she had told him before, but this is what she has now and so she’ll make do with it, “and I’ve made my choice. What’s yours?”

For a moment, the wights seem to slow down, enough that they can look at each other, and he looks - floored, for lack of a better word, as if he can’t quite conceive she just asked, and suddenly she hates herself for doing it because he might have told her what he just had but who says that he’d want her like that, that he won’t think about his sister and decide that maybe he should go back to her, because surely Cersei Lannister would have never asked him such a thing while covered in undead flesh with her armor sticky with blood and fluids -

And then he smiles bright enough that for a moment she feels it brightens up the entire place even if it’s still dark and the undead are still coming -

“Davos!” He shouts, and wait, what, why is he calling for Davos -

Wait.

He’s -

He’s the hand of the King, or maybe one hand of the kind, and he’s the only one up here, and -

“What?” Davos shouts back, busy handling a few zombies himself.

“Marry us!” Jaime shouts back, and Davos looks down at them like they both lost their minds.

“Not that we hadn’t thought it would head there,” Davos shouts, “but are you aware we’re all a little busy at the moment?”

“Davos, now!” Jaime shouts again, sounding like the commander Brienne knows he is, and he’s grinning as his sword cuts through the umpteenth dead body -

“All right, all right! I think we don’t need to address the audience, even if I’m pretty sure everyone around here would have loved to witness the wedding, and in lack of cloaks we’ll pretend you just exchanged -”

Suddenly, Brienne sees it. As Jaime kills one of the wights and she offs another, she moves in front of him, takes his sword and thrusts Oathkeeper into his hands. For a moment, he looks like he’ll drop it, but then he lifts it up, still grinning -

“That’s good enough,” Davos nods. “So, we’re all standing in the sight of men and dead men to witness the union of man and wife. Will you two pledge your love already?”

Brienne had never thought she’d end up kissing Jaime Lannister first as they killed wights in the middle of a battle - he grabs her neck, standing up on his toes and pressing his lips to hers. “With this kiss I pledge my love,” he says, and then his sword cuts through yet another wight.

She does the same as another three are coming up to them, then grabs his neck and does the same. “With this kiss I pledge my love,” she says, exhilarated, and she can’t believe she got to say it -

Davos kills another wight himself. “Jaime Lannister, you take this woman for your lady wife?” He shouts.

“I do!”

“Fine, Brienne of Tarth, do you take this man for your lord husband?”

“I do!”

“Good, then you’re one heart, one flesh and one soul, now and forever, and if you want to kiss again no one is stopping you, but please do keep on killing those wights!”

Brienne snorts, handing Jaime his sword back and taking hers, and then -

“I am hers and she is mine, from this day until my last day,” he says, his back meeting with hers -

“I am his and he is mine, from this day until my last day,” she says, loud enough that he can hear, and then she kills another wight, wipes at her mouth and turns just to see that he’s going up on his feet again, their armors clanking together as his mouth meets hers again -

“Let’s see to not make this the last one, all right?” He winks at her, and she decides she’ll make her damned sure to try to make sure they both live.

–

“Jaime,” Tyrion wheezes not long later, as they celebrate around some good wine that somehow survived the entire battle, “I can’t believe you two actually married like that, shit, if only Father or Cersei could have seen it -”

Jaime wheezes back and Brienne is inordinately pleased to hear that this is his reaction to Tyrion implying his sister should have been there -

“Wait a moment,” Tormund says after taking a swig of beer, and he doesn’t look like he wants to argue, at least, “it’s not a proper marriage if neither of you has stolen the other.”

“… If any of us hasn’t done what,” Jaime blurts.

“Stealing the other! It’s a custom! It’s how you prove you’re worthy of the person you want!”

“… Do explain…?” Brienne asks tentatively, and a moment later Jon Snow shakes his head and stops Tormund before he can launch into what feels like a detailed explanation.

“It is a wildling custom,” he sighs, “basically if you want to marry a woman you have to sneak into her tent or house or whatever, overpower her and drag her out to your own tent or house. If she can fight you off you’re not worth her time, if she can’t fight you off she can accept your offer because you showed her you could do that and you’re not weaker than she is.”

“See, you did belong with us,” Tormund says fondly, ruffling the man’s hair, and Jon Snow actually smiles at that?

All right.

“So,” he says, turning back to the two of them, “did any of you steal the other?”

“Uhm,” Brienne says, “I, uh, brought him to King’s Landing? He was in chains for half of that trip, admittedly -”

“Hey, we did fight on the bridge and we were evenly matched!”

“Yes, but then I did drag you around after your hand was cut.”

“But I did come back for you in that bear pit,” he winks, and Brienne’s heart maybe grows a size or two as his hand finds hers, and he sounds so happy with himself as he says it -

“But I did stop you from drowning in that bath now, didn’t I?”

“Fine, you did tell me to fuck loyalty, I guess, but -”

“All right,” Tormund stops them, “all right, she stole you, Lannister.”

“She did what -”

“She obviously stole you and that’s obvious, and I can’t be in the way of that if she actually went and did it, so fine, you’re definitely married or whatever. Probably have been for a while. I’ll take my leave then, if the king is up for some more drinks.”

“I might,” Jon Snow smiles back, and then, “well, congratulations to the two of you!”

Then he disappears with Tormund back to the main table.

Tyrion is laughing so hard he’s crying and Davos is staring at them with a knowing look from the other end of the table and Pod is congratulating the both of them, and -

“You know what,” Jaime says, “we’re missing the bedding here, lady wife.”

“You know what, lord husband,” she grins back, “I think we should go to my room. And I could make Tormund definitely happier about upholding wildling customs.”

“Really,” he grins back. “How about that?”

Brienne had not ever imagined that her wedding night would start with her bringing her husband inside it after picking him up in a bridal carry, but as she does get out of the room while everyone cheers her on, Jaime first and foremost, she decides that she couldn’t have asked for a better wedding.

Not at all.

[aurelia-blake-carter]

    - REFERENCE TO SEXUAL ACTIVITY SO WARNING IF NEEDED (NSFW MENTIONED) -

"You want me to—what?" Aurelia's mouth dropped open as she stared at the older Winchester in disbelief. "You're—You are not serious." She looked at Sam, pointing at Dean like he had finally snapped. "Sam, can you believe him?"

     Sam shifted a bit but he didn't say anything, just glancing between the two of them. Aurelia forced a laugh. "You.. You're not agreeing with me—Sam! You both are ridiculous!"

     Dean took a swig of his beer, watching her get as flustered as she was. "Come on, it won't even be that bad." He encouraged. "You've always said that you respect them because of their upper body strength and confidence level!" He tipped his beer towards her. "You are just stepping into their life for a night or two."

      Aurelia covered her face with her hands. "Dean!" She groaned. "That never meant, not once, that I wanted to walk into a strip club and ask to get on stage and be a dancer!" She snapped. She could have grabbed his beer and poured it over his head. "Besides, they would definitely say no."

      Sam gave her a look. "You, not to be weird, are attractive, and have a healthy body.. shape so I don't see a reason for the owner to reject you." He shifted uncomfortably, like he felt awkward for—

     "Basically, you're hot." Dean chimed. "You could definitely work a crowd." He said.

      Aurelia turned pink. "I don't know if I should be flattered or offended." She huffed. She lifted her shirt, showing a faded scar down her side. "How about scars, you idiots. I don't think anyone wants a scarred up dancer shaking her ass in their face."

      Dean opened his mouth to respond and she pointed at him. "You even think I'm wrong, I'm putting a bullet in your kneecap." Dean closed his mouth abruptly.

      Sam put his hand on her side. "Listen, Auri, the only reason that we ask you is because we do know there's a nest at that club taking strippers—"

       "Killing or turning them, I know." She groaned, dropping against the bed in annoyance. "But.. why can't we just be FBI and ask to speak with the staff?"

      "You know this nest has moved three times already." Sam responded.

      "If we even look like hunters, the pack will run and will leave a trail of bodies. If we get an insider?"

      "We can kill them from the inside out, I know." Aurelia sighed. She put a pillow over her head to hide her embarrassment.

      "However, if you really don't want to do this, we can try to find another way…" Sam sat back down at the table.

      Aurelia was quiet for a long time, trying to come up with a better plan than the one they had. She couldn't. She sat up and threw the pillow against the wall, as if expelling her anger, embarrassment and annoyance. "Fuck."

    "You nervous?" One of the other ladies, Emily, asked her. Emily was gorgeous, strongly built and the confidence level she gave off made Aurelia want to sink back into a hole. Emily was a natural ginger haired beauty, but Aurelia was somehow sure the green eyes were contacts. "I remember being shaken so bad my first time I got sick right before I had to go on."

       Aurelia nodded, giving her an distressed smile. "I'm just… not used to this." She gestured to the outfit. It was theme night at the club on her first night. Emily was adorned in silk red outfit that showed all the best, with a black lace long dress cover that hide the "goods" as Emily put it. Aurelia's favorite? The devil horns and tail that was attached to her outfit.

      Aurelia on the other hand was the exact opposites, dressed up in a one piece that thankfully covered her essentials, gold slivers woven beautifully in the costume. The white wings felt like the universe was making fun of her.

     "Be glad they didn't immediately give you the heels, though." Emily hummed while sliding on her final coat of lip gloss. "One of our previous dancers said she knew how to dance in them, lied of course, and nearly broke her ankle on stage. Its important to stay safe while dancing." The red head nudged Aurelia. "Don't worry too much, hun. Just follow my lead and you'll do great! You only have to do one dance tonight then Mave is gonna put you on the floor to give out drinks and orders."

       I don't know which is worse. Aurelia thought. She looked at herself in the mirror, taking in a deep breath. From an outside prospective, she probably looked amazing but she could see the peeks of her scars and her odd tan lines. She started to pick apart her confidence little by little before Emily slammed her hands on the sides of Aurelia's shoulders.

      "Stop stressing, hun. You're the sexiest girl here." She winked. She started leaving the room. "I'll meet you outside for our dance in five." With a soft click, Emily shut the door behind her.

      Aurelia raced for her phone, dialing Dean immediately. When he picked up, she didn't even let him greet the call: "I can't do this!" She panicked.

       Dean hushed her. "Sweet heart, you got this. It's one night." He tried to reason.

       "I don't know anything about this, Dean!" She whined. "I know nothing about dancing sexy or acting sexy or just anything remotely attractive—"

       She heard Dean move to cover the mic. "I knew she would flip." She heard him say to Sam. "Okay, sweet heart, in your bag, I put a small earphone. Remember how I helped Charlie when she worked for Dick?" Aurelia nodded, trying to control her breathing. "You're lucky I know you just nodded. I slipped one the same speaker in your bag. Put it in, and I'll walk you through the dance."

     Aurelia dug through her bag. "Oh, so you've been a stripper before, Dean?" It was a sad attempt but she honestly didn't know what else to say or do.

      She heard him laugh. "No, of course not. But I've seen plenty." She slipped the speaker in her ear, covering it with her hair. She set the phone down. 

    "Can you hear me?" Dean's voice resonated through her eardrums. She felt oddly calm because of it.

      "I can." She responded. She hung up the phone. "What do I do?"

      "Get out there because you're about to be next. I'll help you through this. It's me and you, hun. Just focus on me."

     When Aurelia got out on the stage with Emily, the light was almost blinding. She could barely see the crowd but she could feel the eyes, waiting for the two of them. Emily took a bow, slowly and precise, smirking at the crowd like she was born to this. Aurelia tried her best to copy it.

      "Relax your face." Aurelia almost flinched, not expecting Dean's voice. "Give us a.. almost sleepy smile." Aurelia did as told. "Much better… Now, you use your hand, trail it down your leg as you bow—yeah, like that."

      Emily smiled at the crowd, getting into a pose next to Aurelia. "We've practiced this, Angel." She purred into Aurelia's ear. "Just do the routine, and feel the beat."

      She could hear Dean chuckle. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

     From the moment the song blasted through the club, she moved in time with Emily as best as she could. She would hear Dean every once and a while say a comment to arch her back a bit, or spread her legs a bit more to make the move more natural. Despite the entire situation, she felt almost full of thrill and Dean's coaching wasn't too bad either. When the song had stopped, she was covered in a thin layer of sweat, heat from the lights and from the rapid bodywork.

      "You're glowing, sweet cheeks." Aurelia sent a glare in what she assumed to be his direction. "Hey, if you're gonna glare, be seductive about it. Don't want to break your cover." He snickered into the mic.

      I'm really going to shoot him in the kneecap.

      Later, she stopped by their table, handing Dean and Sam their drinks. Dean snickered as she got closer. "My angel." He purred towards her, grabbing his beer and popping off the top.

       "I will hurt you." She replied without missing a beat.

       "I mean, what luck that you're first night is Devils and Angel's night?" Dean teased.

       Aurelia gripped her tray. "I will smack you as soon as this job is finished, Winchester. I swear on it." She promised, eyes deadly serious. However, she couldn't deny in the back of her head she liked how his eyes drifted across her like it had. When she had been dancing, the thought that he was watching so closely made her feel like she was on fire for some reason.

         Sam was the opposite, he kept only looking at her face, making sure not to drift elsewhere. "If you two are done flirting," he cleared his throat. "Case?"

         Aurelia nodded, glancing back at Mave. "Mave is the owner and… he caters very well to new staff." She muttered. "Hes only been owner for two weeks, new promotion when the other manager quit suddenly." She whispered. The boys drifted their eyes towards them. "Emily said that she's been working at the club for years and when Mave became owner, things started going to shit. Pay cuts, abusive treatment, and 'uncomfortable treatment's'." She put the tray underneath her arm, leaning across the table like she was sweet talking the two. "She said he's tried to get her a 'promotion' several times but she keeps refusing because a promotion would ruin her day schedule with her kid." She relayed. "He wasn't happy the last time she said no."

       Sam looked away from the owner when he looked up, glancing around the club. "So he must be the best leader. Any idea on the rest?" He inquired.

       "Still working on it but I've got some ideas." She replied. Suddenly there was a sharp sting against her ass and Aurelia stood up abruptly, spinning around.

        "Come on, fan favorite. You've got more drinks to serve, hun." She wrapped her arm around Aurelia's waist. "If you'll excuse us." With that, The devil dragged away the angel.

         Dean took a swig of his beer, watching the two basically strutting away. "Best decision we've made."

        Sam threw one of Dean's fries at him. "Dude, gross. You're drooling."

      Later on when the club was shutting down, she saw Marv get pulled the dancers to the back. He handed out what they had made, Aurelia being pleasantly surprised on the amount of tips that were given towards her. She pocketed the cash, finally glad to be in normal clothes once more. He also chose a selective few dancers to the take to the back. On her way out, she watched Mave close the door when two other bouncers had snuck in as well. Aurelia gripped the blade. She spoke into the earpiece. "Dean?"

       "You got sight?" He asked.

       She didn't answer at first, just watched through the blinds of the office. Until one of the bouncers moved in front of the window, gave her a grin and she could see it. A second row of pointed teeth.

       She slid her blade out, heading towards the office on the other side of the club. "I got teeth, hurry up." She hissed.

       "Don't go in there alone!" Dean yelled. She could hear them both scrambling out the car. "Wait for us."

       "I can't just wait, Dean—" She answered, about to break into the door to the office. A voice cut her off.

      "Pretty angel, you're supposed to be gone." Aurelia's blood ran cold. She spun around to face Emily. The red head was smiling, a second set of teeth glinting from the few lights in the club. "Newbies are really supposed to leave when we close, not snoop." She crossed her arms. "And carry around big scary blades like that, too."

        Aurelia spun it, moving away from the door, figuring it was best to only take on the one vamp versus altering all of them and then have all on her ass. "I get curious." She spat. "You can't really trust anyone these days."

        "Especially hunters." Emily stepped forward. "That's why when you started asking all those questions? I really had to give you a better target, Mave instead of me." Her body language changed, like she was about to pounce on prey.

      Emily then launched forward, going to do an upper cut to Aurelia's jaw. The blonde blocked the strike, kicking the vamp in the stomach to knock her back. With Emily preoccupied, Aurelia swung her blade as hard as she could, decapitating the monster. As the head rolled off, she noticed Sam and Dean had just burst through the door.

      Aurelia flicked her blade. "You're late." She mumbled. The door behind her burst open and Mave and the two bouncers raced out, all of them going for one of the hunters. The girls inside her unconscious, blood coming out of them. Dead, or turned. Aurelia couldn't tell.

     After a brief struggle of Aurelia nearly being strangled to death, the three had killed the nest and ran to the girls. Two were dead, one turned. Thankfully, after waiting for the girl to gain consciousness, she admitted she refused to feed. They were able to cure her.

       On the way home to the bunker, Dean turned down the music. "So, Auri, how was it?" He asked.

       Aurelia tilt her head back and groaned. "How many times are you going to ask me how it was back stage?" She complained. "It was overwhelming!" She answered. "I danced, I probably looked like an awkward chicken with puppet strings when I did and we killed the monsters! End of story." She huffed. Sam let out a snicker.

       Dean held up a finger. "For the record, you're performance? Was the absolute opposite of what… whatever you just described." He told her. His eyes locked with hers and an emotion she rarely seen directed at her swirled around in his eyes. His pupils were a bit large and the color was dark. Goosebumps rose to her skin at the look. "You looked phenomenal." He finished.

       Aurelia managed to tear her eyes away from him, shifting a bit in the seat to calm her now scorching body temperature.

      "Once again, can you two stop flirting?" Sam asked, looking at the two. Dean smirked as he turned up the music, ACDC blasting throughout the car as his answer. His eyes locked with hers again.

       I'm never going to live this down.

[vic-2point0]

Look anything here is intended to be comedy and not offensive and I would gladly edit anything offensive I don't have a problem with that because my point is not to offend my point is to be comic and you have to be specific about this and I think you also have to be just aware of the Mongolian Russia history and it's interesting ironic sort of detachment sort of thing but you got to tell me what it is to edit out because it's a lot of work and this is like you know 5000 words of stuff

So a lot happened in June and July and August which I guess counts for and as my summer.

It was such a long cold and lonely winter because of the Ukrainian war which I hope they resume their key of in dominance over those Eastern Slavs with their M faces.

And then it became such a too hot drought lonely summer, but I had Spirit coming around May, bad tenants we're leaving or had left I need my house back in Yardville New Jersey not that I don't have it but there's one guy everybody knows him he's not like a hard worker or responsible person and he was homeless so they got me to take him in and for a year and a half at work but then after he started getting unemployment he basically haven't gotten out of bed and this little down to 70 lb but at least he's not like drinking beer anymore he does that about 5% of what he used to but that's cuz he's not working or getting unemployment but then when someone does give him $30 a month he'll buy vodka he hasn't doesn't buy clothes you know I sometimes clean up the room for him refuses to eat but enough about the tragic comedy of Yardville New Jersey

[Everyone is someone else]

Let me tell you about the confusing spirited times of June July and August till now in that when I left here after you know the June visit of my last post I totally failed to make frequent short visits I showed up once time later for just two or three nights still in June so that was two times in June but then I didn't make July at all and I didn't make August at all and it was 10 days into September before I got back here where it's all so peaceful and clear and I sober up

I've gone going on 72 hours without a drink and that's what I need the key to my success is 48 to 96 hours of sobriety a week and this can be leaned on with tactics such as only having a drink in the daylight daylight or in the night darkness not both and it can also be leaned on with the tactic of just having one glass of wine around a late lunch time maybe two and that's all the whole day so you can also have these days that just have one or two drinks or you know religious 12-hour periods without alcohol but the true chipperness comes from extended periods without enjoying a drink and sometimes you know I can even just take a sip to my tongue and I don't want any of this now I'm not even tempted at all and for a good 48 hours of this journey I didn't even think about alcohol I was just so happy to be in my cabin alone from the dying and murderous people and not that anyone is murderous or dying anyway I've just been so nice to sleep away out in the country out in the rural areas near the trees and the hills and the forest not all the time but a little bit now and then it's just the ticket if one truly feels good at a vacation place like the susquehanna's when one feels that they haven't gotten enough of it they need more of this,

And part of it was replacing a bad habit with jogging which lead to increasingly feats of endurance and strength from a vigorous splitting of wood to jumping off the ground 300 times to shoot a basketball into a hoop and as well as you know thinking nothing about running seven miles in a day up and down hills where I had gone like 5 mi running you know at a stretch through a season and a half and then I stopped it's at this cross country season is something that best happens twice a year and it's separated by at least 3 months with no jogging running and that if you pick it up like it's usually in the fall or spring if you pick it up in the fall or spring I usually have some sort of cadence to it such as 5 mi runs like I had last time this time I had a little bit of 6 mi in 4 hour hilly stuff and then I walked a heck of a lot and ran around Boston for 4 days and 4 nights in the stiff heat and stiffer robots there and and then I did just 7 miles in 5 mi without stopping in the heat 2 weeks ago,

But then I was saddled with the idea and what is is right here in front of me and it's simpler than I thought but it's just raveled in a stress ball, all the morals I should be, so when Queen Elizabeth passed, at Balmoral Castle I realized all those tense balls of morals that need to unravel, are at and from her Ball Morale Castle

And so I was needed to stay away from the cabin in Pennsylvania, and I had two injuries; so I don't know if my suffering had anything to do with it; any event I was not urged by the voices in my head to leave earlier in September or August as inclined and wise habit,

For there was a lot to process in my spiritual journey: For when God is right here, there is nowhere to move.

And it's not like I wasn't exploring other viable pursuits, particularly, song and, well, America, actually.

But the story really starts back from the last time I was here from that post on June 9th when I was doing such fine six mile four hour jaunts with my little police dog Maria.

So then I have to leave to consort my sister being back from New Mexico in the area for a week but I was able to extend my stay here to Saturday because she failed to meet me earlier in the week in Wednesday as she promised which was okay because I was able to spend more time here at the cabin and really she should have come up here to see me from Philadelphia where she flew in to see her daughter graduate

Yeah it also shows you how difficult it is to get a footing with and have honest relations with, but that's okay because it could be and has been much much worse, oh of course I know it's all an illusion I also know this country has to come together to become a better country.

Eventually I gave my sister and my niece who was traveled there with her from New Mexico Kailyn arrived from the Philadelphia airport where they had turned in their rental car to Dewey Beach past Rehoboth Delaware North of Maryland by about a foot or two and we stayed in separate hotels and she saw a friend from college and I had too many pot gummy bears that she had given me because I thought they were gummy bears, anyway I ended up walking into town three miles with Maria on the hot day there and that was a lot of fun and sitting out at the bars where there were a few people in those there were much younger than me almost college age and as such they were sympathetic to me and sort of more cordially leaning than more peer group based society.

The next day after dropping my daughter my sister and her daughter Kaylin off at the Baltimore airport to go back to New Mexico I drove 40 minutes back the way I came in and had a reservation to spend two nights in Annapolis which was very enjoyable and a very unique small City or Big Town.

So that was good capitalizing on the opportunity to see the Chesapeake and I followed through this examination of state capitals to see Dover and spend the night out there on the way back which you know has its share of needs for racial Harmony but is improving

and I learned that the area, Ham Noah's third son who is condemned descendants to ignoble slavery basically founded an empire in central Africa that's kind of the Central African Republic today which is a very dangerous country if not the most dangerous country in the world and so that's obviously some link from slavery and blacks in America to Ham and the his empire that came out of the center of Africa it seems the more in the center of the Africa sort of the harder and less technologically based it is you have to enjoy roughing it a little more both in terms of enlightenment and in terms of experience living there like the Congo right before the Democratic thing of Congo right underneath the Central African Republic I saw some pictures of that off Google map and it's a looks like it's it's not like you know dangerous or super poor it's just rough it's like living in hut like stretch structures on the banks of a river and fishing or something.

(If you Google what type of meat is raised in Africa you'll see there's very little pig by 25 million compared to 200 million really they don't eat pork they're the ones who don't eat pork because they're insulted by the inference of Ham, Noah's third son who founded an Ethiopian empire that spread inward as an African empire or that's what I'm saying anyway) (to this day no one names their kid Ham)(of course no one names their kid Japeth or Shem)(but they do name kids Noah and I did meet an Amish kid named Shem but that was like in 1997 I think he was seven at the time it was out by Chuck's farm in Pennsylvania to south of the cabin 150 miles near Centre Hall.)

I mean I don't think it even really exists I think it's all just a story that plays out and imaginary hallucination illusion and certainly this way we live is very oppressive but even if we put our heads together and lived naturally and fraternally and traveling I think pretty soon we'd realize there's this other world here of creation all about and this is they're having and this is the projection imagination illusion from having others and it wouldn't really be about this experience of living in Earth which is what I'm full of so obviously got some reason to become a little more perfection of the body and perhaps extending the body into the mind instead of like immediately like a bird flying into the air and it's more like a planet absorbing things about what's around it ideas to the mind

And then I had a very polite time stopping in and exploring this town I'd heard about just south of Philadelphia maybe in Delaware or Pennsylvania not even sure it's called New Castle De or something it's very nice and value rich, it's a very friendly town I mean I just had a little snack there and they let my dog in their patio and they're very sympathetic and they had comedy nights and even though really hot they gave everyone's dogs water, and they even like put together people that had dogs, so the dogs can get to know each other and the people too could see how well they converse despite like you know class differences we're all pretty much similar in the experience of school to the degree of spirit that we have there.

But later it became more glaring and blatant that everything is faking no one really went through school and there's only me and I'm just going through something that's not even moving and there's really only just me and of course that's hard to say to people because it contradicts what the judiciary is saying about Earth and Society and Humans.

You know one of my complaints to God is women are kind of like segmented from society and I don't have enough women in my society and God at some point agreed and so women friends are very valuable and hard to pick up n I got two of them and one of them is stuck together with me as a friend and cohort since 6 years, and her name is Tena and with an e.

Never easy being called Tena so in hindsight I see the solution is calling her Tenelope. It's funny because for a while now she calls me Vicariah because our Bichon who passed in July or like who passed in like March 2018 that was Zack and she called him Zachariah.

It was going to be the key to the whole fall season was developing a nickname for her of Tenelope and getting her you know used to it and everything and seeing her life improve, that it was brilliant.

Tenelope is one of those skinny girls who's offended by being a muse. She thinks the Muse stereotype is demeaning, and she knows what problems are with my poetry are and she just tells me them and says it to me you got to make them snappier. If the job is to make your poetry better I'll tell you how to make your poetry better you don't have to look at me funny.

And she hates and finds Greek history very boring, which is a real buzz kill.

But as for the whole muse thing, I am ready with repartay, that it's about conducting the grace of God.

She reminds me of Vicky an old friend of mine from the early 90s who didn't speak to me for 5 years or use my name for 10 all because I dare to share a short story I'd written this was in Manhattan where she was featured prominently.

Tena is exactly like that she is going to be mad at me for being in this journal is published journal. She doesn't want her life investigated by a stupid public unlike me who has built my life like an inverted pyramid rising higher and higher balanced and balanced to a point where my promotions nowadays are lateral promotions and explained to me as because I deal with so many people I need to know the tricks of the trade in sensitivity as opposed to some promotion in rank with a higher pay grade and more prestige.

New York City or Manhattan or something you know there's a general sophisticated understanding the lower class lacks where they're sort of like automatic promotions every 5 years.

See my life has had these like 5-year arcs. Each five years contains a different career.

But across the board: I feel I maybe promoted vertically soon and one of my profound regrets in life is not enjoying or recognizing it's lower parts for the visceral that they be.

Anyway I know Tenalope is not going to find being in here that pleasant. But like Vicky she'll get over it even if it takes 15 years.

So when I got back from exploring and rubbing against and with the Chesapeake Bay which I had never really explored before so I struck out for the cabin again but this time with Tena.

See we had long agreed at some point we would travel together and while I might not want her I certainly want a crack at her as we have been good friends over 6 years in proximity and mutual friends and society and so she agreed to tour Pennsylvania with me for a week with two nights my cabin two nights at a music festival camping in Blaine about 2 and 1/2 hours south and then two nights camping at a nearby State Park and all this after picking her up in North Jersey at 1:00 a.m..

What I want what I mean is I want a crack at traveling with her for a week around Pennsylvania because you know it's going to be a little nerve-wracking prospect and I just want to see if it's possible and have fun you know the brave New world of Pennsylvania with the scary hillbillies and hippies.

Cuz you know we've been talking sometimes about road tripping and we did a little road tripping in in the past two or three years out to the Poconos to visit family of hers we went out to the pine barons once and sometimes we'd explore on the way back from the Poconos regalsville

But trying to spend a week in Pennsylvania was or is a big step fraught with peril and bullets to dodge. Like bipolar people in a bipolar world capable of surfing the tippy tops of success but also capable of the jarring crashes of waves upon idiocy.... Which of course people want to see that's the thing

So I picked her up in lake hopatcong but I only left Yardville at 11: 30pm so I only got there a little after 1:00 a.m., and I keep forgetting how odd most of the world finds my tactic of traveling at night,

But then we hauled off down route 80 into that Pennsylvania night till we got to route 15 to Williamsport and then we swung a sharp right up to Mansfield 70 miles and then duck left on route 6 past Wellsboro almost up to Galeton.

Everyone is uniformly amazed about how far this place is, they always look at me funny about how I need to travel at night, and then they always just can't believe that this is how far away, they be like, I knew it was far but I didn't think it was this far.

There's no traffic at night. You can nap in the sun at parks during the day.

Tenalope loved the cabin, she's pastoral, I've often seen her as a pastoral, wood nymph is not the "mote juste", for how many wood nymphs have scraped up knees, like to fish, and wear funny fishing hats?

I met a plumber at the cabin, (nothing like trade practicioners folks) and arranged a septic tank pump out and he replaced a toilet, and the winters here are so vicious if you don't drain every dram of water out of the pipes, things will split and fittings shake: and me and Tenalope laughed about how given a choice between indoor plumbing and love, not one person has ever chosen love, that we know of.

And one of my trials and tribulations which I love and don't shrink from but lean on and threaten maybe is just getting this cabin up to the ship shape adequate adequacy it is now.

A stupid contractor got me a huge used refrigerator for like a family of five refrigerator when there's just me in a 600 square foot cabin I want a small refrigerator and space for shelves and pantries I don't want a huge refrigerator when I just have a stick of butter in there.

I wanted to have like limited appliances here like I don't have have an oven and stove but a toaster air fryer oven and one of those portable stove top burners with two electric burners I plug it in and I unplug it

and I made a sauce in one yesterday for the egg noodles of cheese and olive oil and tomatoes and peppers from the garden in Jersey and then I also do this boiled red potatoes and olive oil and sea salt and then and that's like all I have in my kitchen I'm down to my last four or five potatoes and a quarter bottle of olive oil and a quarter shaker of salt but I did bring a lot of non-alcoholic beverages to ward off outflank and destroy alcoholic beverage impulse because I am the king of non-alcoholic beverages and instead of going to the bar across the street I read books.

Anyway I played the Facebook Yardsale game which I played at least maybe 20 times bought or sold something through Facebook yard sale and it's much kinder than the Craig'sbook sharks but my goal is to give a good deal

because you know in Maine they have freebie barns, little big barns where people leave the TVs they're replacing and the couches they don't want anymore, and you can walk in and out and just look around and take whatever you want and leave whatever you want

but anyway my goal is to give a good deal to someone who deserves it. I want to sell to an honest poor person that's my desired market and so I went to the cool little furniture store in Gallatin and I was able to get a nice more appropriate and small refrigerators aren't cheap without being one of those little refrigerators and it's about half the size of huge one thus freeing up shelf and pantry space.

A young man of the military religious sort, came out, picked it up, God bless them and we had to like take the door out of the hinges and then we have to take the door off the refrigerator and you understand the door we took off the hinges I had completely sealed I don't even use that door it's a door with Windows it's like a window so I had like all that spray foam insulation underneath it and plaster between the gaps and spackle and I painted the door really nice with its window so there was all that

but I'm so happy I got rid of that huge monstrosity and replaced it with something more compact now I have space and shelf room yeah okay the whole big refrigerator my God so that was taken care of too

Then Tina like wanted to get into splitting wood so she like really got into attacking wood with an ax for like 2 hours or something and we had no problem lying in two separate cots at some distance as friends truly do.

Course the first night I was exhausted from driving and I'm so deadline oriented that of course I left late on Monday because the deadline of going to Pennsylvania with Teen motivated me to do as much as possible before I left that's called the deadline syndrome and she's up all night at the campfire making weird soups, talking to herself I think I'm pretty sure she's one of those people that talks to herself but I don't know. I know we've spoken simultaneously for long stretches of time and that's cool.

I wish though in hindsight I had told her two things and explain to her two things upon which the whole pyramid is balanced upon but Sera Sera.

The first is that everyone is in Pennsylvania is married at a concern for all the secret violence to white women by black men and at the highest priority of any society is naturally protecting the women which is a value not held in most of America but I believe it is like surely held in like Eastern Europe which is really more like Western Asia and that's why it's possible.

And of course if you read the papers, America isn't even a safe place, so government on that count, has lost standing. And government knows this.

And the second is that as a historian I have something going because I realize some historical renditions of History are wrong or they mix something up something needs to be straightened out and redone or major stuff is omitted, or science as a philosophy as a whole is omitted,

and I was thinking that would make a nice holiday pageant for this area, a proper rendition, so that's how I am friends with the locals who we treat well and use for jobs and she can't have this kind of like man-hater streak in her and people can't refer to her as my wife in private with me they all say all well they refer to her as my wife assume that she's my wife and and that's just not true and that turned out to be the mangled coat hanger in the shoulder.

See, while I was jawing with the religious military buying my huge refrigerator, down the hill at the unmaintained road, my phone in the cabin rang, and she refused to just answer it.

That was the first leak that sprung, and leaks happen.

And she likes to be a short order cook, and I was like looking at like housekeeper, personal secretary, you know, business venture organizer, but a few holes were springing in this shipwarding journey into Pennsylvania absolutely requiring household morning meetings and the earnest seriousness grabbing a grip into today's ruts of sand necessitate.

However, the boat had not yet begun to sink, the few small holes easily laughed at and appropriated.

And so we journeyed on south, to Blaine PA, to a music festival 2 hrs south on a Thursday, I had tickets for.

This summer marked my inception into the potential "Arc" [ like movie arc] of "shows" or, musical acts that a lot of people show up to outdoors and the music is like psychedelic I had never been into a festie but I was with my friend Terry in Connecticut like that last April and she tries to teach me about music and I said I'm going to invest in the music concert scene so I lined up for concerts I got tickets for and the first one was this musical festival June 23rd in Blaine Pennsylvania and I had gone to a heavy metal thing out in Port Jefferson Long Island in May but I'm not really heavy metal thing but I'm glad I learned about all that bass

So this is like the next subplot to the summer, my kind of initial foray into the concert world, previously scoffed out by rainbow camping routes, I always thought them, concerts snobs.

But actually in all hindsight, Robert, my dear best friend who passed in 2021 was getting me into music and explaining to me music he was like my music mentor since about 2016, earlier, I'd come around and I realized the grateful Dead aren't evil, music is not about controlling your mind, people are not not thinking for themselves because they're listening to music, the music doesn't want them to think.

So in one day hanging out with Terry, I mastered Ticketmaster, and got tickets to four shows one for two or three nights in late June in Blaine Pennsylvania not far from the area I volunteered farm labor for on and off in the late 90s, and then I got a ticket to see Umphrey's McGee at the summer stage in Asbury Park l, and then I got to see David Matthews the very next day out in Camden, which afforded an opportunity to explore launch an exploration of Camden and it's Arc so to speak and that was on the 15th and 16th of July and then the next weekend me and Smitty went up to Terry's in Connecticut and we saw Max Creek out of County Park north of Terry in Granby Connecticut so that was all cool and in all these places I like had like a costume or disguise with dark glasses my white Panama hat and a colorful Hawaiian shirt and shorts and no socks and I would just dance straight I couldn't be stopped I couldn't stop dancing that music would hit me I'll tell you about the sound systems later anyway so Tina and I had headed off South from the cabin, now through the winding country darkening roads of Pennsylvania through dangerous Juanita county where I had gotten in trouble before in 1999 I believe,.

Oh it was horrible and once again I was completely innocent I've suffered more punishment for being completely innocent then for any guilt, I'm one of those people.

See here's the story okay it's kind of embarrassing but my ankle is still swollen since 2008 and I wear a brace for it sometimes to keep me from being in a bad mood and I had gone on a cruise in with my mother who's 30 years older than me or was and my nephew who's 30 years younger than me and I had made two female friends on the cruise a little older than me and you know good at all food and drink and partying and I was dancing around in Greece and tripped up my ankle and kept dancing and subsequently you know have never danced since like that song by Gloria summer and I want this St Patrick's Day to the Hibernian Lodge in Hamilton and there's his old senior citizen Irish band people were dancing to lyrics you could hear the words to and understand the ideas to the stanzas

And like Tina wanted to dance but I don't dance after my ankle injury and she wanted to go up and congratulate her for the band leader for the great job there doing because they were like awesome they were tripping us out and watching like the Irish people dance and everything cuz like Tina's Hungarian American and I'm like rushing American she's a little Irish too anyway the band leader saw that like I was a rough potentially dangerous dancer and gave me the whole like you know lead singer enforcement kind of treatment and it completely psychologically overcame my dancing heroes so when I was out there with Tina in June 4 months later thanks to that kind of treatment I was just like I locked in immediately I was like just like a salmon quivering in the river upstream you know and Tina's there like you know she wants to be all crazy too but she don't she don't know she's I'm not sure she's quite understands

[issysindieblog]

INTERVIEW - SPINN

SPINN are quickly winning over a fan-base across the UK from locals in their hometowns in Liverpool where they grew up to now adoring teen girls and this comes as no surprise to anybody. They have the cheek yet optimism of a new band despite completing their final lineup only last year and will no doubt continue to roar through the UK music scene and gain an army of avid supporters in years to come. This month, the boys are embarking on a tour of the UK, playing a series of gigs up and down the country from Glasgow to Bristol. They finish the tour off on the 28th September back in their home-city of Liverpool (O2 Academy 2 Liverpool). They've impressively already managed to sell out three of their six dates and have recently announced that they have been signed to American label, anti fragile music. The thing that the band are chuffed about though? The fact that one of their songs, It's Not Getting Better, was played on Made in Chelsea earlier on this week.

SPINN have released eight songs so far, including a self-titled EP which was released in April of this year. Singles of their's include catchy 'It's Not Getting Better' which is a song that stays in your head for days after first hearing it's memorable lyrics ( "you know it's killing me being here, killing me, being here.”) and groovy guitar lines which resemble that of early work from Blossoms.

Pictured below, SPINN.

So, (currently) 180,000 monthly Spotify listeners, a UK tour this month with half of the dates sold out and a growing army of supporters, I had questions for Johnny from SPINN and these were his answers... Maybe I'm slightly biased, but I think that these are the best answers to an interview that I've ever read.

1. Was there a particular moment that you realised that SPINN were becoming popular?

I was once getting a meal deal in Tesco and I saw somebody walk in the shop wearing a SPINN teeshirt. I was absolutely buzzing that somebody was wearing some of our merch and later on they messaged our Instagram page and said they'd seen me but had been too scared to come up and say hello. The same thing happened to me when I saw Ex-Everton Winger Steven Pienaar in a different Tesco. That made me realise we were doing something right, I still think we've got a while to go before we can say we're properly popular though. Just got to keep working innit x

2. Away from making music and gigging, what are your favourite things to do together?

Honestly just knocking about with each other like we always have, is what we like to do. Usually it can be anything from just walking around the shops together to going on nights out and staying up till 8AM. Last week Louis had to stay at my flat and we spent the time going to Tesco and prank calling Sean.

This has been a very Tesco centric interview I'll try and steer away from that for the rest of it. Right that's besides the point, as long as we're still knocking about together and taking the piss out of each other, we'll enjoy it x

3. You're going on tour soon, do you each have an essential item you will take with you?

I try to bring a book of some sort for the drive currently, it's Nine Stories by J.D Salinger

Andy ALWAYS brings a hairdryer and various hair products, rocking a bowl when you're on the road ain't no easy fete!

Sean usually just brings himself, that leather jacket he's always got on. A spare bass guitar wouldn't go a miss either, though. Once he left his on the side of the motorway when we were on the way back from Derby, good times.

Louis brings his Aston Villa blanket and 20 Litres of Vape liquid, the little fiend.

4. What/who are your major influences?

Collectively: The Drums, The Smiths, The La's, The Cure, Orange Juice, Ride, My Bloody Valentine.

Individually: Too many to list xoxo

5. Let’s fast forward five years from now, what do you see SPINN doing?

Ideally I'd like to get to the level of Wolf Alice or The 1975 are at now, that would be the dream. If we keep on working then I can see no reason why we can't get there, if we don't then that's fair enough, but we have to at least try! Anyway that's the dream, as long as we can make a living off the band and keep writing music that develops and matures with us then I'll be happy.

6. Do you have any pre-gig rituals?

I always have to go on stage last, I don't know why. At particularly big gigs we listen to 'I Am A God' by Kanye West before we go on, because it's such a good tune for getting hyped to. Other than that, apart from the odd bout of stage fright it's usually just a beer with the boiz before going on.  

7. How has your music evolved since you first began playing music together?

I think our songwriting has definitely improved. When we listen to our new stuff compared to our older songs, it's just in a different league, that only comes with experience though. I think that us touring has definitely helped us realise what is what in terms of song structures and live performances. So to answer the question properly, yeah we've got a lot better (even though we thought we were boss before when we weren't lol).

8. Can you describe each member of the band in under ten words?

Andy - A man who loves his haircut more than life itself.

Sean - Donned in a tight leather jacket he's often quite hungover.

Louis - A small man, usually asleep in his Aston Villa blanket.

Me (Johnny) - Taller than the other four, basically the god of dancing xoxo

9. How long have you been playing together? 

Louis joined about a year ago, but we've been a band for about 2 and a bit years. Saying that, I don't think we would be SPINN without Louis so therefore I'm gonna say a year.

10. What has been your favourite and least favourite venue to play so far?

My favourite was The Magnet in Liverpool. There's so many boss memories there but now it's been turned into one of those chain comedy clubs which is something that chips away at my soul every time I walk past.

My least favourite was The Sitwell Tavern in Derby. Everybody who came to see us was lovely and so were the other bands and the promoters Dominic (just wanted to make sure if they read this they know I had a boss time at the gig and in the chippy afterwards ;) ).

But, and it's a big but, the pub had fuck off massive "The S*n" flags up all over the gaff which frankly isn't something we like to see anywhere, as we think that that rag is scum, sorry not sorry.

SPINN set out on their debut headline tour this month at the following locations:

21st September - Surf Cafe, Tynemouth

22nd September - Broadcast, Glasgow

25th September - Record Junkee, Sheffield

26th September - Hy Brasil Music Club, Bristol 

27th September - Thousand Island (formerly Upstairs at The Grage), London

28th September - O2 Academy 2 Liverpool

Tickets are available to buy now at https://www.musicglue.com/spinn-band/ and all of SPINN's music is available to stream on Apple Music and Spotify.

[iamcinema]

IAC Reviews #19: Wishbone (2000)

Hey, is anyone still alive out there? I hope so.

Coming off of last year was a disaster, and well, we didn't enter 2021 on the highest of notes. I guess you could say I've been burned out and not having a ton of motivation to do a lot, even with how much I've been grinding on Letterboxd over the past few months. I think I'm ready to come back, and since there's a storm is brewing outside, let's make today a movie night...and boy, do I have a treat for you.

I think I've made it kind of apparent that I have a weakness for terrible, low-budget, trash fires. There's something oddly charming about them where they always find a way to lure me in, and given the scene on Letterboxd, there's a bunch of SOV masochists out there waiting to get their next fix. While digging around for material to cross off my lists on titles to find and add, I was reminded of a terrible, low-budget film that was shot in my hometown over 20 years ago. I'm full of fear for what's to come, and you should be too.

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Wishbone is a 2000 horror film directed by Timothy Gaer and co-created by Michael Fasciana, centering on a woman named Laurie who receives an unusual artifact from her eccentric aunt she acquired from a pawn dealer that causes those around her to disappear when they make wishes on it. Hmm, seems simple enough. Let's what we're in for, and I'm absolutely not ready because the IMDb page says this shit is over two hours long, despite a version on Youtube having it just a bit over 90 minutes. Let us pray.

Wishbone in One Gif:

This acting is might be the death of me, but I'm not sure what's going to be the catalyst that causes me to fall down the stairs and break my neck: the sound quality, the weird editing, or the music...oh, god what the fuck is the music doing? So much noise, noise noise!

Okay, so let's dig into this before I take too long of a break and I don't come back to this. I've already had to pause the movie a few times to catch my breath or just rewind and go back because there's a good amount that I keep missing because, apparently, the star of the film is the score and not Laurie. This is so, so slow. I've seen a lot of long horror movies, but at least with those, it feels like things are happening. Even Blood Lake had filler that did something to some degree, and with that, it was consistently bad. This movie doesn't even know what it wants to do. So, as a disclaimer, there's a good chance I'm probably missing some key details that I didn't hear because it seems that characterization isn't important if the music insists on talking over everyone.

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So, to date, this might be one of the worst horror movies (and movies in general) that I've ever seen and it might be one of the slowest things in the entire megaverse. This is over 90 minutes of, somehow, nothing and something happening simultaneously - if that makes any sense.

This takes its sweet ass time moving along and there's so little pay-off. The majority of the characters are either nameless or we aren't introduced to them in a way that matters enough for us to care about them. It's kind of like with Violent Shit and other low-budget slasher films where the majority of the characters serve no purpose but to be disposable. Next to the two main leads, Laurie and Joe, and maybe a few others, everyone is just forgettable and even then I couldn't honestly tell you anyone's name if it was explicitly brought up. IMDb isn't helpful either, and at this point it just makes me care even less. I'm not sure if my patience has been tested too much with this, but it's kind of sad that I'm more invested in seeing what the background characters are doing than Laurie and Joe - even though I can't really hear what the hell they're saying.

Yeah, I really can't move on without talking about the sound and the music. Why is it always the audio with these movies? This has an estimated budget of $100,000, or $154,779.43 today in August 2021. How do you have the ability to somehow not make this look like a potato for the most part, well for the day shots that is, but you don't have it in you to get a good mic and someone who knows how to mix and edit correctly? I would sort of understand if you spent the majority of the money on talent to cut corners, but this is just ridiculous. Did they use the cameras' built-in mics to catch the audio here?

I feel like I need to interrupt the movie constantly to tell them to speak up because if I turn up the volume, I'm just getting bombarded with this really weird soundtrack that doesn't fit. I shit you not, during one of the kill scenes, the music booming over it sounds like it was ripped from Kevin MacLeod's "lounge" library and then the reverse happens where ominous music is playing over a more touching scene - and that's not even a dig at Kevin as an artist. That's just how inappropriate and unfitting this editing is. The weird fucking thing about this specific kill scene is that it sounds like the audio is stacked, so there are two different instrumental tracks going on.

How do you fuck something as basic as tension up like that? The audio choices are so painfully inconsistent and it doesn't know what it wants to do. There are moments where you can hear the dialogue just fine, but then the music comes in out of nowhere to segway us into the next scene and it starts to muffle things out. If it isn't that, then the dialogue is just so soft that you'd think there was a pillow on the mic or we're hearing them from the opposite side of a sound-dampened room.

This is what I meant earlier when I said I apologize in advance if I miss anything crucial because I can't make out half of these conversations. So, I'm having to keep going back if I care enough or just having to pause and take breaks because there's only so much I can handle. This means that there's a good amount I'll blank on because I have to keep going back because I can't remember the majority of these no-named characters. Who the fuck are you people? Why am I supposed to care?

If I'm understanding the non-existent rules of the wishbone, you're connected to whoever dies in some way. So, why is any of this relevant to what's going on? If it's random, then it's another reason for me not to care just because some frat kids made a wish at some point. Again, who the hell are you and why am I supposed to lament over them? Why is there so much useless filler here? Did I mention that this is over 90 minutes long and there are *three* fucking party scenes? Party scenes are to Wishbone as ten-minute-long jetskiing and beer game scenes are to Blood Lake.

Oh, speaking of other shit that's annoying. Let's talk about general editing because the sound isn't the only thing that's a mess here.

I swear that almost every single scene in this ends with a fade-out/fade-in shot. Only one or two scenes come to mind where this doesn't happen, and the first time it did I thought my browser was freezing because it abruptly cut to black and then smash cuts to a party scene. I've never, ever seen a movie that abused this that much before and it's on par with something I would have seen made by a bunch of high school kids. So, when we have a moment where this doesn't happen and it plays out normally, it feels like a breath of fresh air. I'm sure this movie's run time could have been shaved down by at least a minute or two if this wasn't a problem, along with all the useless close-up shots that serve nothing to the plot.

It's such a waste of time. I'm so fucking tired. How was this movie's budget $100k? Did they spend most of it on renting the Scranton Police Department for a few shots or did it go towards their impromptu trip to Party City? I'm so tired and I don't care anymore.

Do you want to know what the real kicker is? With just barely twenty minutes left, the whole lore about the monkey's wishbone paw comes back and that's when Laurie and her friend Karen think something is weird. Isn't this whole realization trope that happens within the first or second act, not now with your Great Value brand version of the Dream Warriors?

Also, it's not specified how much time has gone by since the start, but it has to have been at least a week or two. It's incredibly weird how they paint the main characters and the unnamed background ones as such good friends that they don't think it's weird how almost all of them have disappeared - especially one girl who doesn't seem off-put that her boyfriend (or ex) disappeared after getting into an argument at one of the parties and none of his friends could reach him either at his own house.

The final showdown is an utter pain in the ass to get through because the conflict ends as abruptly as it starts and it's so unsatisfying. We get to see the face of our villain, I guess, and then more or less cut to our leads holding hands down the street set to the same looping lounge music we've been dealing with for over 90 damn minutes. Is everyone else who went with them dead? Did they live? Who cares! That's one thing the movie and I can agree on since we never see them again. We end on a shitty cliffhanger that's supposed to prepare us for a sequel, which thankfully never happened.

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And that was Wishbone. Holy fucking shit, I've never been so thankful for a movie to be over in my life. It's 11:07 PM as of tinkering with some minor revisions and I've been in purgatory with this for over five hours, and yet, it feels like an entire lifetime has gone by.

I've raved about how bad Blood Lake was with its incredibly bad pacing, but this is next level awful and a testament to bad filmmaking if I've ever seen it. I expect a lot of the things I complained about from super amateur filmmakers who are shooting on an actual shoestring budget, not people who had that much money to fuck around with. How did they have that kind of a budget, and the most they can give us is bad audio, Windows Movie Maker levels of basic editing, three wrap parties, and a few crumbs of gore that we could see?

This was physically painful to see and I'm in much worse shape having endured it than I would have been if I sat through something liked Boardinghouse, and that has a two-and-a-half-hour-long version tied to it. This is just a marvel and I mean that in a so-bad-it's-bad way, not like how SOV enthusiasts who love this stuff pine over. If I had to give one thing going for it, one single granule of gold that I enjoyed from this, it's the limited shots we get of the area so I could make a game out of seeing what local spots I recognized. If playing I Spy is the only way for someone to endure your movie, then I don't know what else to say.

Wishbone is a hot mess where shit's happening, but also nothing is happening at the same time. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. In fact, I wish this movie never existed or would die in the ether and never return to our mortal realm ever again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have a smoke and hope I don't get run over by a hearse tomorrow.

RATING: 0.5/10