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princesskaulitz · 3 months ago

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Sleepy Confessions

✮ tom kaulitz fluff with a bit of lime ig (im still new to fanfic terms and stuff 💀)

✮ 2008 tom x fem! reader, mostly sfw but some stuff is nsfw (like sexual undertones ig) i proofread like half of this but that’s it 😗

✮ A/N: this is short but sweet, hope yall like it

(vid from .kaulitzvikt on tiktok)

you were the cute girl next door that tom liked since the very day he moved in.

at first, it was like his typical crushes, you were just eye candy. he’d come out and sit on his porch while you did yard work, not-so-coincidentally when you were wearing those short shorts of yours, his all time favorite was watching you jump rope as your form of exercise on nice days— he would watch you get all sweaty, watch your breasts bounce in your rather tight tank top.

mischievous as he is, he also very quickly discovered that your bedroom window was right across from his, giving him free reign to watch you undress into your pajamas every night— when bill found out about that, oh he had a heyday. he made tom his servant for a month or else he’d snitch to you about tom being… well… a peeping tom.

the first time you spoke was on a day when bill and tom were devastated—their dog had gone missing. they had searched the entire neighborhood, but there was no sign of him.

hours later, you arrived at their door with the sweetest smile, their missing dog in your arms. you explained that you had found him while out on a walk with your own dogs—he had wandered surprisingly far. the thought of someone else who didn’t know who he belonged to finding him instead of you would have broken your heart. you had given him water and treats, and to your delight, he had gotten along wonderfully with your dogs. with a warm smile, you offered to let him come over to play anytime.

from that day on, tom took full advantage of the opportunity, using it as an excuse to flirt with you and be close to you. anytime the weather was nice and he spotted you outside, he and his dog were there in an instant.

he quickly realized that you weren’t like most girls he’s used to. in fact, there wasn’t a single damn sinful bone in your body.

whenever he’d try to flirt, you were just… not even fucking there.

“you’re really cute, you know that?” he once said.

tom leaned against the counter, watching as you carefully poured sugar into your tea, your tongue peeking out slightly in concentration. you glanced up at him with wide, curious eyes.

“oh! thank you! that’s so sweet of you to say. you’re really cute too!” you chirped, completely sincere.

tom blinked, caught off guard. he hadn’t expected you to return the compliment so easily—most girls would have at least blushed or teased him back. he smirked, leaning in a little closer.

“so, does that mean you think about me a lot?” he asked smoothly.

you frowned slightly, stirring your tea. “hmm… well, we see each other every day, so I guess I do!”

tom chuckled, shaking his head. “no, I mean, do you think about me when I’m not around?”

you gasped softly, your expression lighting up. “oh! I do, actually!”

his heart skipped. finally. maybe you were catching on—

“like the other day, i saw this squirrel struggling to carry a huge nut, and it reminded me of you!” she said excitedly.

tom stared. “the… squirrel reminded you of me?”

you nodded earnestly. “yeah! because you were trying to carry all those grocery bags the other day, and you refused to let me help! you looked just like that little squirrel—so determined but kinda struggling.” you giggled. “it was really cute!”

tom groaned, dragging a hand down his face. he could definitely think of a certain huge nut he was truly carrying but knew he wouldn’t be dropping that load anywhere near here anytime soon.

you tilted your head, blinking up at him. “what?”

he sighed dramatically but couldn’t help smiling. “nothing, prinzessin. just—keep thinking about me, okay?”

you beamed. “of course! you’re one of my best friends!”

tom just shook his head, biting back a laugh. hopeless.

but, God, you really were adorable.

things like this was what made things change though. when tom started to get to know you, when he started to see you from the inside, how sweet, how innocent and undeniably naive you were that he began to feel guilty about before, he wanted to protect you now… started to feel deeper things than he’d probably ever felt about any girl before.

when you’d be around a group of people, he’d position himself just slightly behind you, making sure no one got too close or made you uncomfortable. one time, when you bent down to pick something up while wearing a short skirt, he instinctively stepped behind you, blocking any prying eyes from getting a glimpse. it wasn’t obvious, but to him, it felt like a small act of care—ensuring you didn’t feel exposed. at neighborhood cook out parties, if any other boys got too handsy or made an inappropriate comment, he’d immediately step in, his tone sharp, putting them in their place before they even had a chance to cross a line. he wasn’t the type to flaunt these gestures, but they were his way of silently saying, “i’ll always have your back, no matter what.”

he started to realize that for the first time in his life, the game didn’t feel like a game anymore. flirting had always been effortless—just a smirk, a smooth line, and he’d have whoever he wanted wrapped around his finger. but with you, it was different. you weren’t just another conquest, another name to forget by morning. you were all warmth and sincerity, with a heart too pure for someone like him. you saw the good in people, even when they didn’t deserve it. even when he didn’t deserve it.

and that’s what scared him the most.

because he knew the kind of guy he was—the kind who left before things got complicated, who never stayed long enough to matter. but with you? he wanted to stay. and that terrified him. because what if you realized the truth? that beneath the charm and easy smiles, he wasn’t nearly as good as you thought he was.

you noticed that when you started to get closer, he suddenly started to distance himself from you, not wanting to come next door and hang out as much, replying dryly to funny videos you would send him and being too busy or sleepy to call. you missed him so much. you had no one to protect you from other boys anymore, no one to to laugh with, no one to cry to and have hold you when you saw a sad dog video online, no handsome brown puppy eyes to look forward to seeing everyday, no one to squeal at when you just got the cutest new pair of shoes.

you began to wonder if you did anything wrong. were you too clingy? you were a bit too much for people at times, too exited, too loud— you have far too much energy and had a hard time reading a room when you had unintentionally drained someone and didn’t have many friends for this reason… you wondered if maybe you had pushed him away in this same way— like you had everyone else.

you were finally able to catch him one day as he was taking out the trash late at night. he closed the top of the garbage can and there you were… scared the shit out of him to say the least.

“y-y/n! shit-please don’t do that, i could have socked you!” he says.

you ignored his startled reaction— just had the saddest puppy dog look in your eyes. “why won’t you talk to me anymore?”

damn… that made his heart clench in his chest. he realized he had done the very thing to you that he does to everyone else— leaving abruptly and leaving someone wondering why they weren’t enough…

the same thing he figured he was protecting you from…

“how….” he sighs. despite his insecurities, he can’t just leave you like this, continuing to make excuses for himself. “how about i come over and we can watch shows or a movie together? you can pick.” he says.

your face immediately lights up. “really?!”

he can’t help the smile that cracks across his lips. “yeah, come on.” he says, putting his hand on your waist and walking with you back next door.

he found himself sitting on your bed that smelled just like your perfume, surrounded by your ridiculous amount of stuffed animals, his back against your headboard, arm around you while your head rested on his chest, watching some rom com movie. he wasn’t exactly too keen on this but he’d do anything with you just to see you all excited and smiling.

he looked down at you, your eyes were closed. you looked so peaceful, fallen asleep on him like a kitten seeking warmth.

he sighs, the movie becoming static in the background of his louder thoughts that were his insecurities that he doesn’t deserve to have a girl like you laying on him right now, so comfortable.

he chuckles, starting to talk to himself without really realizing it in his sleepy state. “i don’t even deserve this…” he says.

your eyes slowly flutter open but he doesn’t notice, continuing to beat himself up.

“parties, drinking, meaningless hookups—it’s all second nature to me. i know how to make girls feel special for a night, how to say the right things, solely for the purpose of getting what i want, only to move on without a second thought. i’ve broken so many hearts without thinking twice, left people wondering why they weren’t enough… just like i fucking did to you…. and now, for the first time, I get my karma, sitting here questioning if i’m enough… i’m not… you deserve someone who will love you the right way. and i’m not sure i even know how… i’m a piece of shit.”

you suddenly sit up and look at him, making his heart stop.

“you say that like it’s a fact, but it’s not. you think because you’ve made mistakes, because you’ve lived a certain way, that it defines you forever. but it doesn’t.” you say, concern etched all over your face. you were very much awake the whole time and had heard every bit of his sleepy confessions.

he let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “you don’t get it. i’m not like you. i don’t do the whole… good person thing. i party, i screw around, i leave people behind. that’s who I am.”

“that’s who you were.” your hand reached for his, hesitant at first, but when he didn’t pull away, you laced your fingers through his. “you don’t do that with me. you care about me, i can see it. you wouldn’t be so scared if you didn’t.”

his throat tightened. you saw right through him. “i don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t want to be that guy with you.”

you smiled then, soft and understanding said, “then don’t be.”

it sounded so simple when you said it, like it was that easy to just be better. but the way you looked at him—like you believed in him, like you wasn’t afraid of all the mess inside him—made him think that maybe, just maybe, it was.

he swallowed hard, staring at you like he was trying to find the catch, the moment where you’d realize he wasn’t worth it. but you just kept looking at him, steady and unwavering, like you saw something in him that he had never been able to see in himself. and damn, that did something to him.

his hand twitched in yours, fingers tightening just slightly, like he was grounding himself in your touch. “you make it sound so easy,” he murmured.

“maybe it is.” your voice was barely above a whisper, warm and sure.

he didn’t know who moved first—maybe it was him, maybe it was you—but suddenly, you were closer, close enough that he could feel your breath against his lips, close enough that the whole world narrowed down to just you. his heart pounded as he hesitated, giving you a chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

so he kissed you.

it was slow at first, almost uncertain, like he was afraid he’d break you, or maybe like he was afraid he’d break himself. but when you leaned into him, fingers curling into his shirt, he let himself fall. his hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb grazing your cheek as he deepened the kiss, like he was trying to memorize the way you tasted, the way you felt.

you kissed him back like you had never doubted him for a second. like you had already decided he was worth it.

and for the first time in his life, he wanted to be.

as the kiss slowed, he rested his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven. his hands lingered on your face like he was afraid to let go, like if he did, this moment might slip away.

“i don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

you shook your head, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “maybe you don’t see it yet, but I do.”

he let out a quiet breath, his grip on you tightening just slightly. “you really believe that, don’t you?”

“i do.” you smiled softly, nudging your nose against his. “and I’ll keep believing it until you do too.”

for the first time in a long time, he let himself believe—just a little. he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, like maybe if he held on tight enough, he wouldn’t lose this. wouldn’t lose you.

and as you nestled into him, safe and sure, he realized something.

maybe he wasn’t as lost as he thought.

#tokio hotel #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz headcanon #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #kaulitz & kaulitz

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allthesethingswillendsoon · 7 months ago

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Long, long time

CHAPTER ONE: Welcome to Oakridge

SUMMARY: Following the abrupt departure of Amy Bueckers, Bob moves himself and Paige to the quiet, unassuming town of Oakridge, Virginia in the hopes of having a fresh start. There, they meet the Fudd family, their neighbors from across the street. Paige and Azzi are quick to hit it off and so begins their story.

NOTE: This is so nerve-wracking as this is the first like fanfiction thing I've ever written let alone published. I don't think this chapter is very good but that doesn't really matter because it's the first one and I just wanted to get it done with. For reference they are both born in 2001 just to make it easier with grades and stuff, also this story doesn't involve them playing basketball (so no UConn or anything like that) as I felt I didn't know enough for it to actually make any sense. The series doesn't have a name, and I don't know how long that will be the case for. Also I really don't understand how to use tumblr so it might take a while for me to make the posts aesthetic and whatever so yeah. I plan for this series to span like years and years of their lives with ups and downs.

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Warnings: Parent leaving. 2k words Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

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28th OF AUGUST 2008

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

The crisp morning air of Oakridge came as a pleasant surprise to Bob and Paige Bueckers. It was six AM, and after hours and hours the father-daughter duo had finally found their way to Virginia. Their worldly possessions were being held in the U-Haul rental truck they had driven there with. Amongst those possessions were a variety of important things, Paige’s kindergarten graduation cap, the remnants of her first haircut, and her mother’s last note to them before leaving.

To say Bob was happy for a fresh start would be a complete understatement, Minnesota had just been too much for him. Around every corner was a reminder of what they had lost, and what they could never ever get back. The stress had nearly cracked him, and on one particularly low-spirited evening, once Paige was tucked soundly in her bed, Bob had started the process of selling their house and buying a new one. The day after Paige’s kindergarten graduation, the final boxes were packed and the duo set off across the country to their new home, to their new start.

There it was, the start of the rest of their lives right there in front of them.

He had been able to find their house for a lovely, reasonable price. It was the perfect size, three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a spacious backyard; perfect for the dog Bob had promised Paige. The outside of the house was painted a soft blue, complemented by the white picket fence and flower beds bordering the perimeter of their block.

“Dad! Can we go inside?! I wanna look around! Please!” Paige begged, tugging her dad towards the front door.

“Yeah, sure thing honey, give me a second.” He responded, glad to have been snapped out of his reminiscing.

Paige ran up the front porch steps, her dad in tow behind her. As Bob stood at the door fumbling around with the keys he had a moment to realise the severity of the situation. They were in a brand new state, in a tiny town, away from everything either of them had ever known without any kind of support system whatsoever.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t ashamed, and angry, and depressed, the love of his life and mother of his child had just packed up and left, for no apparent reason and without even saying a proper goodbye to their daughter. That’s what really got him, Paige loved her parents more than anything, and explaining to Paige that mommy’s just not here anymore led to more tears than he’d like to admit. The fact that she would one day think it was her fault that Amy left, that it was because Amy didn’t love her enough killed Bob, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do when that day came.

Perfect. Just perfect.

What was he going to do? What if something went wrong? What if Paige needed a babysitter?

They had left their family behind in Edina, Minnesota, and not a second had passed since leaving them that they were not missed. But it was necessary, in every conversation he had with his family and Amy’s family, there was always a massive, gaping, all-consuming hole in the conversation. Without fail, every time, Bob fell in.

But that was what made Virginia so perfect though, it was away from everything and everyone they used to know. And as far as Paige had shown, she didn’t mind the change much, her happy-go-lucky nature was sure to make her friends no matter the area.

With a click the door swung open.

As they walk inside, the smile that falls over Paige’s face makes all the pain and struggle worth it.

“I love it Dad! I love it!” She squeals, her face scrunched in happiness as she skipped around the bottom floor of the house, trailing her grubby little hands over every surface she could reach.

“I’m so glad honey.” He grins, her excitement contagious.

“I love it! I love it! I love it! I looooove it!”

“You wanna go upstairs and see your room?” Bob questions.

“Yes, yes, yes!” With that she’s off, her little legs struggling as she takes the stairs two steps at a time. Bob follows suit, walking into Paige’s room to find her lying on the floor starfished.

“Do you remember what I said P?” He starts.

Almost faster than the speed of light she’s standing in front of him, big blue eyes piercing into his soul.

“Do you mean it really? Any colour?”

He chuckles lightly. “Yeah honey, any colour you want.”

“Purple! Purple! Purple! I want purple!”

“Yeah honey. I think I can get you some purple paint.”

She throws herself into his arms at those words.

“Yay Dad, I love it here!”

The way she says those words, and the way her face is lit up with her smile makes Bob think that it might all be okay.

29th OF AUGUST, 2008

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

After a long week in the Fudd household it was finally Saturday, and that meant family fun day!

This week it was Azzi’s choice of activity. Much to her brother’s dismay she had chosen to plant flowers in the front garden. On Thursday, when her dad had gotten off work they had hopped in the car and driven to the plant nursery, where Azzi had selected delicate pink flowers to decorate the front yard, ‘Carnations’ the plant lady had said.

Azzi had left the nursery, struggling slightly under the weight of the flower pot, yet still not allowing Tim Fudd to help her, despite incessant offers to.

She had picked her special spot in the front yard and was ready to depot the flowers. But when she woke up on Saturday and shovelled her breakfast in her mouth in the hopes of getting to family fun day faster she had come to the realisation that she was without a shovel, and effectively without a way to plant the flowers.

After a few (a lot) of tears, Katie and Tim packed their kids into the minivan and were off to Home Depot in search of a small pink shovel for Azzi.

As they scoured the aisles, their search was proving to be hopeless and the family’s hope was quickly dwindling.

After a second and third lap of the store, Azzi’s bottom lip began shaking, her eyes welling with tears, and before long she was planted on the floor, tears pooling out of her big brown eyes.

“I want the shovel! I neeeeeeeed the shovel!” She wailed.

“I know honey, but they just don’t have it. I’m sorry, we’ll try again next week.” Katie soothed, trying to deescalate the situation.

“But mom, I need it! How can I plant my flowers without it?” Azzi shrieked, now hitting her hands and legs against the hard concrete floor.

Before Katie could respond a little body with a big voice appeared in front of Azzi.

“What do you need? I bet I could find it for you, I’m really good at finding things!”

Azzi sniffled, wiping her nose before lifting her head to look at the girl before her.

She had bright blue eyes, a pale complexion and light blonde hair. She was taller than Azzi and a little gangly. Most notably, she had a slightly nervous smile and an inviting hand outstretched to her.

“I need a shovel. So I can plant my flowers.” She mumbled, still staring up at the other girl with her watery eyes.

“I like flowers, I’ll help you!” The girl responded, her face now empty of nerves and lit up with excitement.

Azzi grabbed onto her hand and before she could say anything to her parents she was being dragged through the store by the other girl.

“No, not here.”

“Not here either.”

“Hmmm where could they be?”

The random girl’s remarks could be heard from across the store as they made their way through aisle after aisle, hand in hand.

“Where are they? Why can’t we find them?” Azzi huffed, coming to an abrupt stop, yanking her hand from the other girl’s.

“I’m not sure. I’m sorry. I’m really trying to find them.” The girl rambled, nerves creeping back onto her face as she watched Azzi’s eyes well with tears once again.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” Azzi said, sadness momentarily forgotten as she looked at her new friend.

“What’s your name?” She continued.

“Paige. What’s yours?” Paige replied.

“Azzi”

“Nice to meet you Azzi, I’m Paige” With that Paige stuck out her hand, “Want to be friends?”

A split second of silence falls over them.

“Yeah Paige, let’s be friends!” Azzi takes her hand, both girls shaking with enthusiasm.

“Y’know I think my dad might have a shovel. We should go ask if we can borrow it!” Paige suggested, voice high-pitched with excitement.

“Is it pink?” Azzi questioned, her brows furrowed in anticipation.

“Ummmm. I don’t think so.” Paige replied.

“Hmmm. That's alright.” Azzi decided.

“Yay! Let’s go ask.”

—-

Paige and Azzi’s laughter reverberated off the walls of the Home Depot as they skipped back to their parents.

They had been standing together, making small talk and introductions. As they did so they realised that they lived on the same street a few houses apart.

“Dad! Dad! We need to get our shovel so Azzi can plant her flowers!” Paige huffed as the pair came to stand in front of their parents.

“Slow down honey, start over.” Bob responded, unable to comprehend his daughter’s mumbling.

“Can-we-get-our-shovel-so-Azzi-can-plant-her-flowers. Please?” Paige says, leaving a comically large gap between each word.

“Yeah, sure, we can lend the shovel to our new neighbours.” Bob shrugs.

“NEIGHBOURS?!” The girls squeal in sync.

“Yeah, Az they moved into Mrs Mckinlay’s house, y’know the blue one?” Tim explained.

“That’s so close, yay Paige!” Azzi exclaimed.

“Dad, since we live so close, could I pleeeeease help Azzi with her flowers?” Paige begged, putting on her puppy dog eyes and pouting.

“Well I don’t see any issue with it if you guys don’t mind.” Bob says.

“That’s fine with us, the more the merrier.” Katie responds, smiling at the blossoming friendship between the two girls.

“Then it’s settled, time to go and plant some flowers!”

“But it's a family fun day!” Azzi’s brother’s chime in.

“Shut up sillies! I want to be with my best friend Paige!” Azzi flicked the two boys.

“AZZI! That is no way to behave.” Her dad scolded.

“Okay I’m sorry, can we go now?” She apologised.

“Yeah we can go.”

“Me and Paige just need to check out, gotta buy our paint.” Bob explained, holding up the bucket of purple paint.

“I’m painting my room purple! Wanna come see it when it’s done Azzi?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

—--

The Bueckers and the Fudds met up in the street, and after ten minutes of Bob scavenging through their shed boxes, he was able to procure the elusive shovel.

“Here we go.” He said as the pair walked into the Fudd’s front lawn, passing the shovel to Azzi.

“Yay! Thanks Mr. Paige’s dad! C’mon Paige let’s go plant the flowers!”

They worked hard, light sheens of sweat covering their little foreheads from the late summer heat. Planting carnations was taxing work they discovered.

Once they placed the final flower down in the ditch, Azzi turned to Paige.

“Paige, I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Will you officially be my best friend please? Cause I know I said you were before but I wanted to ask if you wanted to be.” Azzi mumbled, slightly nervous for the girl’s response.

“Yeah Azzi, I’m your best friend, and you’re mine, now and forever and ever and ever!”

“Pinky promise?”

“Double pinky promise.”

Their parents watch from the front porch as their daughters interlink pinkies and giggle together over everything and nothing.

It was clear Paige and Azzi were going to be in each other’s lives for a long, long time.

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Okay I hope that was alright and set up the story well enough. Thanks for reading :)

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #pazzi #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wcbb #long long time

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mister-mickey · 5 months ago

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Word of god

(This is going to be a VERY long post so buckle up)

Word of god is a phrase used in fandom that refers to something that the author of the source material has said, but was never confirmed in the source material. Because it was never confirmed in the original material, it isn’t considered canon. However, word of god is basically the next step down from canon.

This means that while you can choose to ignore it, you can also choose to accept it.

In the outsiders fandom, there are certain “word of god” type things floating around. Think soda going to Vietnam (and then that being retconned) or Johnny’s legal name being John. Even Dallas being scared of spiders, of crying after he read little women, of Steve enjoying wearing women’s underwear (?).

These are all examples of word of god. They were not mentioned in the outsiders book, but they are all things S.E Hinton has said on her twitter and in other places.

I’m only sharing the definition because what a lot of people never seem to talk about (possibly because they don’t know or because they don’t know how to access it) is S.E Hinton’s fanfiction. I think a lot of people would enjoy learning about some of the other things S.E Hinton has said about the characters. (Keep in mind, on her ffn account, she claims to not be S.E Hinton, but using the details she’s shared about her fanfiction in interviews, it’s pretty obvious that this is her account)

Just keep in mind, none of this is canon unless you personally want it to be. Don’t harass other people for accepting or not accepting any of this as canon. Fandom is supposed to be fun, and that includes letting other people make their own personal spaces and headcanons.

I’m going to share all of her outsiders fics here (as in, I’m going to link them so others can read them too) and then I’m going to share every detail that I noticed. If you read them and notice things I missed or didn’t talk about, PLEASE REBLOG WITH THOSE THINGS!

First fic- The Haircut, published in 2008. This takes place after their parents die but there is no mention of Johnny or Dallas, so it could be before or after their deaths

- Pony cuts his brothers’ hair (or at least Soda’s) probably because they can’t afford a professional haircut

- Either pony is really bad at it (possible, as seen in the book with Johnny) or Soda is incredibly dramatic

- Darry checks pony’s homework

- Pony is not great at math but does well in English, however he still misspells things (which makes the fact that he judges sodas spelling or grammar in the letter soda sent in the outsiders very funny)

- Soda is likely very forgetful (he forgot that he left the iron on and burnt a hole on his work uniform)

- This is something we could have figured out anyway because of the time period, but it’s implied that their mother would have been the one cutting their hair and ironing their clothes.

Second fic- The first Christmas After, published in 2008 (shortly before Christmas too, on December 14) this takes place after their parent’s death and after Johnny and Dally’s death.

- The Curtis brothers are willing to forgo tradition in order to save money (Darry says they agreed on no Christmas tree and mentioned avoiding getting a turkey for thanksgiving, even though they ended up getting one anyway because Darry’s job gave it to them)

- Soda apparently is not actually a decent cook. People like to headcanon that his cooking tastes okay and just looks funny or tastes a bit too sweet, but apparently soda seriously fucked up the turkey.

- Twobit is willing to eat gross stuff (he ate the turkey and darry jokes twobit would willingly eat cat shit)

- The Christmas tree is also free, like the turkey. Soda got it at work. I guess the Curtis brothers are pretty lucky, or they have jobs that kind of care about them (wild idea)

- I think this was mentioned in the book, but Darry is very casual about drinking. He grabs a beer after work.

- The real reason Darry didn’t want a tree is because he knows it’ll be upsetting to do christmassy stuff without their parents.

- Darry will shove his feelings down to try and make the holidays enjoyable for his brothers

- Steve has a mother who is active in his life. This is crazy to me because everyone just kind of assumed he didn’t have a mother. I will continue to deny her existence though lol

- Steve’s mother cares enough about the Curtis boys to send Steve over with some fudge.

- The Curtis brothers have their own ornaments. Soda’s is a car colored like a candy cane, Darry’s is a reindeer holding a football, and pony’s is an elf reading a book. The ornaments were from their father.

- There’s a joke that I think I’m not catching? I think it’s twobit saying that he called a girl a ho, but it might be innocent? I’m not the best with tone. He’s making a Santa Claus joke

- Twobit likes eggnog (gross) and shares it with soda. The eggnog has whiskey in it, which is what gets Steve interested in drinking it.

- The Curtis brothers had a dog named bowser, who also had an ornament. Bowser was a present for Darry’s fourth birthday. Darry assumed he was the only one that remembered bowser, but soda claims to remember him too. I guess this means bowser died when soda was very little. Possibly before pony or when pony was a baby.

- A lot of the Christmas ornaments are crafts that the Curtis boys made at school. (Aww) Darry and soda grew up faster than Ponyboy did, apparently pony was willing to do kid stuff longer than they were (they stopped wanting to make crafts by middle school but pony did them even after) Darry thinks it’s because their mom wanted to keep her baby a baby.

- The boy’s personalities show in the ornaments they made, Darry’s are well structured and planned, but with zero imagination. Sodas are sloppy and not great, but hold character. Pony’s are said to be eye catching and imaginative.

- Pony is supposed to call Darry from a pay phone if he realizes he’s going to be late for curfew. Pretty solid rule, I think

- Mr. Curtis wasn’t actually better at understanding people than Darry is. The main difference seems to be Mr. Curtis’s patience in dealing with people he doesn’t understand. Darry compares himself to his dad

- Their mother and father also have ornaments! Their mother is an Angel playing the piano (considering the other ornaments, we can assume their mother knew how to play piano) and their dad’s is a Santa going fishing (I guess he liked to fish)

- This is basically canon anyway, but pony was too skinny and frail after Johnny and dally died

- Soda is lactose intolerant. This does not stop him from consuming lactose. He is kind and sleeps on the couch when he does so that pony doesn’t have to listen to him farting all night (disgusting)

- Darry understands soda even if soda doesn’t say anything. So I guess Darry not understanding pony isn’t because pony is quiet and doesn’t tell him anything

- They have ornaments for Johnny and dally. Johnny’s is a little dark haired Angel singing a hymn, and Dally’s is a little devil with wings and a halo with an evil smirk.

- Johnny doesn’t like cutesy things. He is a greaser, he’s still tough. They all decide that Johnny and Dallas would like if they saw their ornaments.

- Joking about Johnny and dally makes the gang a little happier. Even after death, they bully Dallas a bit because they miss him (the hang him at the top of the tree 😭💔 and they giggle about looking up his ornaments skirt)

- Dallas would allegedly have set fire to the tree if he was there and saw them doing that

- Steve has a bunch of cousins in Muskogee Oklahoma, as well as an Uncle Bob

- Twobit’s sister is named Bren. Twobit is close with his grandmother and is visiting her for Christmas. He is going to give her whiskey for her present because his mom doesn’t let her have it.

- Soda likes to attack his brothers with tickles

The third fic- The Drive North, published in 2007. This is the longest fic, and it’s an au. I have several disclaimers I think I should make before I talk about it.

Disclaimer one- this is a Wild West au, it takes place in the late 1860s. Because it’s an au, there are some things that don’t really translate to canon. I will be sharing things that are canon to this fic, and maybe expanding how I think they’d fit into canon, but just remember, they do not fit perfectly

Disclaimer two- some of the things changed directly contradict canon. Several of the characters go by different names, some of them even have the wrong ages (I originally assumed everyone was the same age as in canon, but then mason and Tex from Tex showed up and they were ten years older than everyone else which doesn’t make sense because Tex takes place in the 70s and they should be younger than the gang), and some of the characters have pretty different back stories (the Shepard siblings are orphans in this and they’re being raised by their grandfather. This contradicts canon because in That was then, this is now, they are said to have their mother and a stepfather)

Name changes

- Steve is called pistol

- Angela is called Angelique

- Twobit is called Two bits, and his real make was changed from Keith to Eugene.

- Dallas is called White snake, which leads me to my next, and the most important, disclaimer

Disclaimer three- there is a lot of racism in this fic. Mostly weird Native American representation. This mostly comes from Dallas and Tim, but basically dallas is a white child that was kidnapped by native Americans and was then raised by them. Tim’s parents were killed by native Americans (which is of course a thing that happened back then, but I don’t think it’s written very well) These are common racist tropes, and I think it would do people good to be aware of that if they choose to read this fic.

There is also a few brief references to slavery and the civil war, and off the top of my head, I don’t think any of the characters were particularly against slavery. So if you want to read this, be aware of that so you don’t get caught off guard. There’s also a few slurs/incredibly outdated terms

I think thats the end of the disclaimers, if anyone else thinks of something I should add, tell me. I think this fic is an interesting look into the characters, but I don’t want people going in blind and unaware of the negative aspects of this fic

- The Shepard’s grandpa is named Philippe Shepard (Shepard is spelled different several times through the story, so is Philippe) he is fairly well off, I don’t think he’s rich, but he is successful. He has a Spanish gelding which is a fancy horse. Darry is jealous of him. Philippe is a former Texas ranger and he is very strict and good at bossing people around

- The Curtis brothers are doing a cattle drive under Philippe’s supervision. He’s their boss basically

- Soda’s real name is actually Patrick in this, and “Soda” is short for Sodacrackers because he likes hardtack.

- Everyone loves soda. Just looking at him makes people feel good

- Pony was a solemn baby that liked to study his surroundings. He was only silly when he was around horses, which is where he got the nickname Ponyboy. (His real name is Michael)

- Pony and soda are uncannily good with horses, which is why Philippe Shepard hired the Curtis brothers. Darry seems to really admire Philippe actually, he doesn’t shut up about that old man

- Curly Shepard is described as a hot-head, who doesn’t seem particularly skilled because he’s riding drag. This is the worst position to take because the dust gets kicked up at you. Curly was very upset about getting that position

- The Curtis parents died at different times in this. Their mother seems to have died of some sort of sickness because her death is described as “lingering”. Their dad went off to war (the civil war, on the confederate side. This does not make me fond of Mr. Curtis) when Darry was fifteen.

- Philippe Shepard does not support slavery. He also seems to have an anti-war stance. At least for himself. He says he won’t get his head blown off so people can own slaves. Philippe Shepard fought against the Mexicans and the Comanche at some point, and has enough experience with war to know he doesn’t like it

- Ponyboy has a paint pony

- Pony cried after he said good bye to the lake (the Curtis brothers are leaving their house for good) because he spent a lot of time at the lake. Darry seems embarrassed of him for that

- Pony wears soda’s hand me downs, but they still don’t fit him because he’s scrawny.

- Pony is tough physically, but incredibly emotional

- Soda has a chestnut mustang horse

- The Curtis brothers will be relatively well off after the drive. Darry plans on sending Pony to a school so he can put his book smarts to use and live in a society where that stuff matters

- The first chapter is repeated twice lmfaooo

- Two bit does not like Philippe. Philippe also uses flattery to get his way lol

- Twobit is the cook, which I guess means in canon he could be a decent cook too. He learned how to cook from his mom

- Mr Shepard is in love with Twobits mom 😭

- Mr Shepard also uses his money to get his way

- Twobit’s sister is named Lizzy in this one. Either he has a shit ton of sisters, or his one sister does not have a decided name

- Mr Shepard does not approve of ms Mathews babying Twobit. His eye twitches when she says he’s “just a boy”

- The Curtis brothers are said to have sold their eggs to make money

- Johnnys name is John, and he’s named after his father. So he’s John jr. He’s also called “little John Cade” 😭😭❤️❤️ and he’s going to be twobit’s assistant

- Dallas is their scout/interpreter. Original when I read this, I thought Dallas was actually Native American and I thought that was interesting. But no, he’s just a White guy that was raised that way. I think native Dallas would be very cool to see though, becuase I hate the trope of white people being raised by native Americans instead of people just writing native Americans

- Twobit is lazy. He doesn’t like getting up early or walking

- Mr Shepard does NOT think twobit is funny. I think he might actually hate him

- Mr Shepard spanks his grandkids and he makes sure to tell everyone. He also seems fully willing to spank other peoples kids too (he threatens twobit) He is very strict with his grandkids. He says he uses a quirt, I looked that up and it looks scary

- Mr Shepard is genuinely mean asf, and he seriously doesn’t like twobit oh my god

- Mr Shepard is seriously down bad for ms Mathews. He hates twobits dad 😭 he even calls the dude worthless

- Twobit’s dad was a sweet talking drummer who only stayed around long enough to give her kids

- Philippe has dark eyes and white hair

- Philippe was present when twobit got the nickname twobit. I think twobit isn’t particularly proud of his nickname.

- People don’t seem to like Dallas. I’m not talking other people, even the gang seems kind of uncomfortable around him. Also the gang isn’t a gang. I don’t think they’re necessarily even friends here.

- Curly is confirmed to be just a nickname. His real name is not shared

- Twobit got his nickname when he was ten. Instead of it meaning that he has a big mouth and will give his “two bits” to any conversation, it means that he’s so useless that you wouldn’t give “even two bits for him”. The twobit lovers can feast on any angst that provides. It explains why he doesn’t like his nickname in this

- Twobit’s little sister worships him and his mother adores him

- Another reference to Mr Shepard having a big old crush on Twobit’s mom 😭 this point is really being driven home, and it takes twobit a while to realize. He is horrified when he dies and almost drops a barrel on Johnny 😭

- Jesus Christ Philippe won’t stop threatening people. He says “every pound lost is money out of my pocket, and I catch anyone taking money out of my pocket there's going to be an inch off his hide.” Which curly confirmed is true and not just a phrase.

- Pony doesn’t give a fuck about cows. He calls them meat on hooves 😭

- Pony, pre fic, never liked going into town and didn’t like people. I don’t think he’s friends with Johnny (yet)

- Darry likes talking to people and sharing his opinions. He’s respected in their town

- Pony doesn’t think he’ll ever grow as big as Darry or soda. I find this interesting because I always just assumed he was small because he was younger.

- Pony prefers animals to people

- Pony likes to watch people instead of talk to them. This is already kind of canon, but it’s funny to hear him talk about it

- Darry has to ride big horses because he’s a big boy. It’s also implied that he’s still growing?! Apparently he’s still filling out into his frame. How fucking big is he going to get jfc

- Soda likes pretty horses, but he’s smart enough to pick horses based off of their speed

- Steve and curly both like hot (I’m assuming wild) horses. The difference is Steve can handle it, curly can’t. Curly got thrown off his horse 😭

- Tim and his grandpa both ride the fancy Spanish horses. They’re very pretty but pony feels tired just looking at them because of how jittery they are. But they never get tired

- Tim and his grandpa are long boned? I think this means tall? Or maybe they have long limbs lol. They’re also said to be heavy muscled. I don’t know if that contradicts Tim’s description in the outsiders, where he’s described as lean. I don’t know if heavy muscled means bulky, but it feels like it would? Tim can be lean and still muscular but the way it’s written makes him sound pretty different from the book

- Curly is convinced that he’s going to have one of the fancy horses one day, but Tim and Mr Shepard think he’s stupid for thinking that. So I guess he probably won’t. In their family, you have to earn a fancy horse, and curly hasn’t earned one yet

- Dallas rides a white horse that he stole.

- Buck Merrill is the sheriff? I find that very interesting because he was just a party guy in the outsiders

- Dallas is wearing a breechcloth, but sometimes wears pants. He also wears eagle feathers and face paint. I don’t know if that means anything. He is said to be Comanche (or at least associated with them)

- Dallas cut off Johnnys dad’s ear and wears it on his belt as a trophy. He did this because Johnnys dad was beating Johnny, so I guess they’re still close in this fic

- Everyone can sense Tim and Dally’s tension (it’s not sexual, it’s worse) and they are placing bets on who will fight who first

- Steve claims Dallas grabbed a creature off the ground and ate its head off

- Dallas has a sweet tooth

- Dallas only really talks to Johnny

- Johnnys dad is a blacksmith, and he’s huge.

- Twobit is a gossip, he makes sure he knows ALL the goings on. Every day he takes a one hour walk across the town to see everything

- Johnnys dad is suspected to have hearing loss and a bad temper

- Johnny got his scar from his dad back handing him with a hoof file (this is the event that caused Dallas to cut Mr cades ear off)

- Ever since then, Johnny has had less bruises

- The younger people on the job get to have more sleep 🥺 tim and darry work early in the morning and late at night because of that

- Angela snuck along 😭 she wants to be treated like Tim and curly so she has been following them for the past few days. Mr Shepard is PISSED

- Mr Shepard’s scoldings have caused tears among many people, including Angela

- Mr Shepard CARRIES THE QUIRT AROUND to to threaten people

- Angela is just as good at riding and shooting as curly but not as good as Tim.

- Angela was meant to stay home and have sewing lessons while her family did the cattle drive

- Angela either dislikes doing girly things like sewing, or she just prefers doing horse stuff. I can’t tell if she’s meant to be a tomboy, which I feel doesn’t necessarily fit with her character in twttin, or if she just thinks sewing lessons are boring.

- Dallas knew Angela was sneaking around, which means he is sneakier than Angela Shepard.

- Mr Shepard would 100% beat Dally’s ass which is notable because so far he’s respected Dallas a lot as an adult. He’s very upset that Dallas knew Angela was there and didn’t say anything

- Tim and curly are said to play pranks on angela which is why she’s so sneaky and suspicious

- Dallas cut off a piece of Angela’s hair. This is strange to me because he didn’t have a reason to do that? In the fic he uses it to prove that he was watching her, but how was he supposed to know he needed to prove that? Why did he cut a lock of her hair? Freak

- Dallas calls Angela a scrawny prairie chicken? So I guess she’s small and skinny.

- Tim ends up being the one to start a fight between him and Dallas

- I think Dallas enjoys making Tim angry enough to start the fights. It makes sense to me tbh, it’s very funny and I think it fits with canon. Dallas slashed Tim’s tires in the book, and I guess he did that to get his attention

- Tim is racist, and this plays a part in his hatred for Dallas. It’s apparently because his parents were killed by native Americans, but Mr Shepard says that he needs to stfu because Dallas had nothing to do with that.

- Dally’s real family had a terrible fate and I think they were killed in either the same raid that killed Tim’s parents, or another one close to that one.

- The Shepards mom’s name is Antoinette and she had a fate worse than death. I say this because Mr Shepard says he wished he was there to put a bullet in her head to spare her from what happened to her. He doesn’t say what happened, but I guess it was pretty awful.

- Tim likes to punch and grapple, Dallas likes to dodge and kick

- They aren’t friends of any sort like in the book, there’s no “cut from the same cloth” here

- Curly, soda, and Steve would have been cheering and whooping if they’d been present, but they’re elsewhere at this time

- Pony and his brothers fight sometimes, but they usually give up pretty quick because Darry gets embarrassed fighting with teenagers, soda starts laughing, and pony will start crying out of frustration

- TIM PULLED A GUN ON DALLAS

- Curly almost shot his toe off practicing his fast draw, which led Mr Shepard to ban it 😭

- Tim, his siblings, and Dallas were all very young when their parents died. No specific age is given, but Philippe says they were all very little

- Philippe is their paternal grandfather (obviously) but he saw their mother as his own daughter and apparently she was very egg beautiful. He seems more sad about her death than his own son’s death

- Tim has an impressive fast draw

- Mr Shepard defends Dallas against Tim and says that he needs to cool it with the anti-native American talk. He says he understands why they’re all mad white people are in their lands. This doesn’t stop him from taking the land though.

- Angela is now riding drag as punishment so curly gets promoted I guess.

- Twobit exaggerates stories and Tim clips them too short. Pony is the best storyteller

- Pony doesn’t know what a “sporting woman” (a prostitute) does until soda explains it

- Pony understands sex, he just doesn’t understand why anyone would ever have it for fun lmfao

- Steve got his ass beat by his dad for wasting his wages on prostitutes 😭 I guess his dad does get physical with him

- Pony says if Steve knew half as much as he thought he did, he’d be the most valuable person on earth 😭

- Pony thinks sex is gross and begs soda not to have sex (soda refuses and says he’s gonna do what he wants)

- Darry really enjoys not being in charge. He likes that Philippe is in charge because then he isn’t responsible for his brothers. He hates babysitting and pretends not to see pony nonverbally begging him to come with him into town so he isn’t alone

- Mr Shepard calls pony and Johnny the youngest, but I know that in the outsiders curly is fifteen, so he’s in between them. Either curly is a different age in this fic, or Mr Shepard doesn’t see him as an individual person (which now that I’m typing that out, I think that’s probably the case)

- Johnny doesn’t like lots of people. As in crowds

- Darry makes pony and soda take at least one bath a month. Stinky boys

- I think pony and Johnny have become friends now, they’re naturally drawn to each other

- Pony yelps runs away from a prostitute because she talked to him? I don’t think the situation called for that? He seemed genuinely terrified and Johnny just followed him

- Neither of them know what the clap is, Johnny thinks they were going to “get clapped” 😭

- Pony likes cats but can’t have one because the coyotes will eat it (very sad, one of my cats got eaten by a coyote ☹️)

- Pony cries when he’s scared

- Twobit won thirty dollars playing a game (he told the people he’d give them a chance to win it back the next day, while knowing that he wouldn’t be there the next day 😭) that’s about 700 dollars today

- Steve tries to look cool in front of soda omgg

- Steve also seems jealous of how naturally cool soda is. He’s upset with himself for being jittery around the prostitutes when soda is so calm and charming

- Steve has a mustache 😒 he grew it out to look older and he fiddles with it subconsciously

- Soda is insecure about “just being charming and handsome” because it isn’t something he had to work for

- Soda immediately started venting to the prostitute ?

- Soda immediately talked about marriage with this prostitute, he hasn’t even done anything with her and he’s already in love with her

- He gave her his entire wage… he gave her TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS and told her to wait for him oh my god

- He saw her flirting with other guys and immediately thought about KILLING HER what the fuck

- THE OTHER GUYS WERE TIM AND DARRY!!

- They were described as tall cowboys so I guess that’s means Tim and Darry are both tall

- Philippe is sick of these teenagers. They all spent their money on dumb shit and he’s judging them hardcore

- Tim and Darry have become best friends at some point, they keep giggling with each other

- Curly gave himself alcohol poisoning the second he had access to alcohol which is kind of funny to me. Either he’s a serious drunk or he’s so inexperienced with alcohol that he die at know what a limit is. I don’t drink at all so I don’t know which makes more sense. I’m leaning towards the second one because of the way he’s characterized in this fic

- Steve gets mad when soda is sad, not mad at soda, just mad in general

- Tim and Darry became bffs because they ROBBED A POKER GAME WITH GUNS! ARMED ROBBERY! They did this to save twobit from being fired after twobit spent money that wasn’t his, which is kind of sweet of them.

- Curly is sad because he was trying to get the guys to enter a brothel (part of the reason he was drinking so much) and got so drunk that he woke up in an alleyway with all his money gone 😭. He laid in rant alley for a day and a half before Tim came and found him 😢 (my stupid son)

- Soda is embarrassed about falling in love with the first woman he saw

- Steve is mad all the time, and soda doesn’t understand how he does it. Soda finds anger exhausting

- Tex and mason are very… ?? Again, they’re ten years older than the gang, instead of ten years younger. They’re both bearded and wild. They live in the middle of nowhere and say that god has abandoned them. Tex says he shot mason to make him shut up

- Nobody has been sick yet except curly, so they have plenty of medical stuff

- Johnny compares Dallas to a knight in this (instead of a gallant soldier in the book)

- Tex says he shot mason because mason gave him a bad cup of coffee. They’re very strange

- Curly broke his pinky finger oh my god (I have to be honest and say everything curly does makes me giggle because he does so much stupid stuff. My baby broke his pinky 😭😭😭❤️❤️)

- Steve cracked his tail bone when his horse escaped, and Darry got bad rope burn

- Philippe likes Sodapop. He does think soda is tiring though

- Tim values the adoration and hero worship from curly and Angela to be too mean to them. He pretends to be indifferent to them, which fools everyone except Philippe (awww)

- Tex and mason are crazy, they talk so much trash and they’re so mean to each other. It gives everyone else a shock

- Angela has a crush on Tex, who is supposed to be around 24 ish. Tex has no plans on doing anything with her thank god

- Angela wanted to be a tomboy because boys got more attention, but now that she desires boys attention, she acts more feminine. This is masons insight because Angela starts acting sweet and precious the second she starts liking tex

- Tex became friends with everyone within a few days of them joining

- Curly is good enough at roping to teach Tex how to do it. It’s nice seeing him be good at something

- Tex took herding lessons from Tim and Darry

- Darry and soda mess with pony enough for him to be suspicious when people tell him things

- Dallas keeps doing things to piss Tim off (he whacked him in the head with a stick and rode off on his horse before Tim could do anything)

- Tim “doesn’t find anything humorous in anything white snake (Dallas) does” and is very grumpy when Dallas does something to make people laugh

- The story ends on a cliffhanger but that’s it

Anyway, take what you want from these fics as canon and disregard anything you don’t want lol

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kusagrasskusa · 2 months ago

Text

Jeff the Killer X Reader - “2008”

It’s the anniversery of the incident. The people come together in sorrow for the lives lost. It snowed that day.

In the mist of the snow, she saw him.

Randy, Keith and Troy were three boys who made Jeff what he is. They beat him, bleached him, set him on fire, and go away with it.

“Oh, I remember the day they moved in,” her grandma spoke lowly, “I knew they were trouble. Shame they did it here, and not some other town.”

A few listeners nodded in unison, some with hands folded neatly in front of them and others hugging one another. Everyone was dressed in black in respect for their dead loved ones. Framed pictures decorated nearly every table in the townshall, with an overbundance of flowers in every corner, nook and cranny. Handwritten letters were dropped into several boxes for the grieving families who lost someone in the incident. The incident in which the town will be forever changed by.

However, the boy majorly involved in said incident was nowhere to be seen. Not a single photo of him alone, or letter, or acknowlegement in his name in this memorial event. Of course, why would a raging serial killer be given a sort of gratitude or positive acknowlegement? After all, his family was too new to the town to be beloved by many people. Thus, their deaths weren’t nearly as impactful as those of the boys who were murdered by this serial killer.

However, there was one photo framed on a table. The flowers and letters given to the Woods family table was a mere fraction of those given to the others- however, it gained much attraction. The family photo taken right before the boy went crazy was the big centerpiece of the table. He was only 17, his birthday just passing by at the time. Him and his brother looked an awful lot alike, although… Jeffery’s eyes were darker. More “unfocused” you can say. Not as in high, but rather in that there was something else he was focusing on- deep inside his head.

She stared at that photo for a hot minute.

“Y/N baby, what are you looking at?”

Startled, she turn to her grandmother who walked over to see where she was looking. “Still thinking about that… boy?” Y/N thinned her lips, pulling her sleeves down past her wrists as a chill went down her spine at the mentioning of the killer. She shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to reply. Of course, she thought bitterly, having not a day go by without his name in her mind. Her grandmother gave her an unenthuisatsic look before sighing; “you need to let that monster go. Look at what he did to your brother. I don’t want my grandbaby to see the demon who ruined her life. We outta get going before it snows, anyway.”

Ruined her life, Y/N repeated in her head as her grandma wrapped her arm around her to pull her away. That’s one way to put it. A sour taste was left in her mouth as they moved away from the table. But, although she wouldn’t say it, she didn’t want to walk away just yet. She wasn’t sure if the face of her brother’s killer was fully fermented in her mind.

She didn’t want to forget what he looked like.

After all, being able to acknowlege the man who changed her life was hard to find. No consequence, no tension at the mentioning, and no sensitive hearts being broken. Especially since the people of the town of her relationship with him. Everyone knew how close they were; best friends, always together. The looks and side eyes the families of who Jeffery murdered would be overwhelming at times, since people like to hate her by association. As if she didn’t love her brother and wanted her best friend to murder him. She lost everything when it happened: her friends, some family, and beyond all was herself.

…

About 20 minutes passed. Y/N was back home- in her room, where almost nothing changed aside from the clealiness. The organization she once had was harder to keep up on. In the past, her brother making a mess of her room because he was an asshole gave her a reason to clean it; now, she’d rather it look like it he had touched it last. It made her feel less lonely sometimes.

Y/N sighed as she took off her heels and black dress, switching into something comfortable to sleep in. Her band tee loosly fell off her shoulder, with her hair following suit as she removed her hair clip. She stared at herself in the mirror: the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and the paleness of her face after a year staying indoors. All the little imperfections and impurities. She wasn’t murdered, but in a way, she was. At least internally.

Pain followed every thought, mention, dream, voice, appearance, memory, story, and more of the incident. It hurt. She hurt.

Then, the reflection of her window in the mirror caught her eye. It was the heavy snow falling despite the fall season. The twinkling white flakes outside made her think: when it snowed this day last year in 2008, white became his color.

Her brother Randy was murdered by Jeffery. Brutally murdered. A hideous grin was slit into his brother’s face and stomach, then his hair was set on fire. Jeffery stuffed Randy’s stomach with some cloth and paper then set on fire. The smell of smoke and bloody iron woke her up that night, then her mother’s scream nearly put everyone else in shock. She’ll never forget that night.

But, there was another reason to remember that night as well.

She visited his home that day after he got out of the hospital. They were close friends and, although she never told him, her feelings for him grew more everyday. But, what she saw when his mother invited her in… wasn’t Jeff.

“Y/N!” the man as white as snow exclaimed in both excitement and shock as he turned over on the couch to face her. Of course he saw it: the way her eyes widened and her smile dropped. Her stomach churned as she looked back at him… or what was supposedly him. His black shirt and pants complimented his black hair and the dark circles around his eyes. And the whiteness of his skin made the darkness pop out, although he had a few tiny red spots where he was burned on his arms and face. Then finally, his piercing blue eyes cut through her like a blade. It was Jeff’s body, but… it wasn’t truly Jeff.

He stood up from the couch in haste, quickly wrapping his arms around her smaller form. She hugged back gently, her expression unwavering. He was acting eratic- twitching slitghly and breathing heavy. His grip was tight and fierce, and his back muslces were strangely tense. He stood over with staggering height as he pulled away, his smile wide and gleaming. He took her hands in his and said, “look at me! What’d you think, huh? Huh? Pretty, ain’t I?”

“J-Jeffery, you, I,” Y/N stuttered, “It… suits you. You look good in white.” Her voice shuddered with uncertainty, but he perhaps he didn’t notice or care. He just chuckled.

“Yeah… It does. I still feel the burning under my skin but- I love it! I love what I am now, Y/N,” he said in a raspy whisper- intense and passionate. “Wanna see what else I got? A pretty lil’ “get well soon” gift. C’mon… Lemme show you!” He gripped her hand tightly as he guided her through his home, up the stairs then into his room as he had many times before. Only this time, she wasn’t… comfortable.

“The two are from Japan,” Jeff explained as he spun the blades from between his fingers delicately like they were glass. Y/N offered a weak smile, her gaze drifting blade to blade as she swung her legs gently on Jeff’s bed. He sat next to her with an open box of blades by his side. He spoke about being good with aiming throwing knives but never a facination like this.

“Oh, that’s sick,” Y/N muttered softly. A particular blade caught her eye- it’s red hint made it different from the rest. Shereached her arm across him to point at a particular knife. “This one looks— Ow! Jeff, Jeff!—“

“Don’t you fucking touch it!—“ Jeff gripped her wrist with strong force, causing her to gasp and grab onto his hand. He sharply turned his body and leaned in close, his face scrunched into a scowl. Y/N whispered frantic apologies, having never been in this position before. He’s never acted this way before. The staring match between them lasted for a moment, until he broke it by looking down onto her lips. Then, he let go.

Despite the extreme discomfort that lingered at that moment… The memory always put butterflies in her stomach and make her heart flutter. Maybe she was just attracted to the strength he had, or the muscles that flexed on his arm, or the way he looked at her lips… Her feelings were only for the features of the man surely. Not the crazy serial killer specifically. “Oh my gosh…” she whined, covering her hands over her eyes. “Can I go a fucking day without thinking about it? And now it’s snowing when I had plans for—”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she looked out the window. Despite the grey fogginess of the outside, the moonlight revealed the whole area. The ground and trees were quickly piling up with snow. It was pretty snow- thick and good for making snowmen. However the pretty snow blankets were disturbed by something when she wasn’t looking, as evidence with the foot prints leading up to the house. They lived in a slightly remote area without many neighbors or trespassers.

“That’s weird,” she said with uncertainty as she stared. “…I’m too tired to worry about this,” she huffed and pulled her curtain over the window. Maybe her grandma left something in the backyard and went back to get it. With a yawn and a stretch, she spun around on her heel and flopped onto her bed, pushing off the pile of clothes onto the floor in the process.

Sleep took over instantly. She even forgot to turn off the lamp.

…

Drrrrrftt…

A loud shuffling shocked her ears, waking her instantly. Y/N lifted her head up and looked around, wondering what had happened as her heart pounded frantically. “What the…” she muttered groggily, slowly sitting up on the bed. It was too dark to see the room aside from the little clock on her beside with the flashing numbeers of 3:02 in the morning. She sighed, still needing to shower and get ready for bed.

She pushed her legs off the the side of the bed, rubbing her eye with one hand as the other reached for her lamp to turn it on.

Then she stopped. Dead in her tracks. And slowly moved her eyes upwards.

A tall, black figure stood slightly hunched in front of her window. It was almost too hard to see, but with the moonlight softly shining thorugh her curtains creating a ring around the figure, it was impossible to miss. It didn’t move. Even as it knew she saw it.

Her lip quivered as she stared with wide eyes. Fearful eyes. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was, with a shakey hand, turn the nob on her lamp to turn on the light with a satisfying click. Only… the light never came on. She turned the nob again. Nothing. The figure cocked his head.

Her breathing grew louder as chills ran up her spine. Her unfocused eyes scanned down by the outlet saw the wire wasn’t just unplugged, but the plug was cut off. As well as the charger to her 2004 Motorola flip phone. Her phone wasn’t even on her nightstand. She took one last look at the figure… then she used her arms to swiftly move backwards on her bed, towards her door.

The figure moved in haste, jumping onto the bed and grabbing her legs to pull her towards him. She screamed, trying to propell onto the other side of the bed while kicking at him. But the figure was just too strong, gripping her legs and pulling her to the edge of the bed before he got on top. He put a leathery hand on her mouth, her struggling with all her might being futile. He was just too strong. He was just too big compared to her.

Then, the thin coldness pressed firmly against her neck. It halted all movement aside from her rapid breathing and flowing tears. The light of the moon dimly casted on the face of the man. A face shape she used to recognize- only, in just one year’s time, the face had lost its boyishness. It was more sharp, more mature, and… distorted. A wide grin was cut into the flesh, and the cast lights of the blue eyes were faint.

And the knife on her neck glimmered.

The figure leaned in close to her ear, his body weighing heavily on her as he shifted into a straddling position.

“Y/N… Long time… No see.”

Her breath hitched as he moved his face closer to hers. Her heart was beating so rapidly as his hand moved from her mouth and onto her cheek. Her arms laid helplessly onto the bed. She shut her eyes tightly, tears pouring out faster than ever. That voice, she thought. It’s his voice. He dug his finger into her cheek, making her whince in pain. “Mmm… Look at me. Open your fucking eyes. Tell me you missed this face.”

Her eyes fluttered open, her face shifting to show the hurt she felt as she looked into his eyes. “Jeffery, you’re…” a sniffle and choke cut her off, before she weakly continued, “why’d you… Why, Jeffery?”

A low chuckle escaped his throat, “I missed you, Y/N, every damn second.” His thumb trailed the tears that flowed freely on her face, then dragging up to her eye then her shakey lips. He tapped his thumb against her lips gently. “I’ve thought about those pretty lil’ lips every damn day. I just wanna devour you- rip you away from this place, ravage you ‘til there’s nothin’ left but my imprints.” Jeff smiled widely, looking up and down Y/N like an animal. Her eyebrows furrowed as she listened, unsure of what he meant exactly. What the fuck was he on about?

“I’m not letting the fuckers in this town ruin you. A sweet little thing like you… You’re mine. Hear me? Mine.”

“Jeff, I-I don’t understand,” she sniffed, blinking away the tears the best she could. “I don’t wanna die, Jeff. I don’t wanna l-leave my mom and my family and—“

Jeff shushed her- leaning in close to her face once more and chuckling lowly.

“Y/N, baby… You got no one left to worry ‘bout now. They’re gone. Done.”

The ice coldness ran down her back. Her heart skipped a beat.

“You belong with me now. Only me. I’ll take care of you the way no one else fucking could.”

He leaned down and kissed her flowing tears. She turned her head, avoiding his lips- making his grip on her tighten. Her crying only grew louder, making her huff in annoyance.

“I’m all you need now. Nothin’ else matters— and I’m gonna make you believe it.”

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gunsandspaceships · 1 year ago

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Did Tony really hate Steve?

Some people believe that Tony hated Steve since childhood. They have a point because Tony said so.

But remember this post of mine? Or this one? And even this one... Sometimes Tony says things that contradict reality. And usually it's something negative about himself. That was one of those things. I'll show you why.

Iron Man (2008):

Remember this shield behind him? This is an unfinished replica, most likely made by a child. We don't see any children there, except one. Tony tried to make Cap's shield when he was a kid, and although he never finished it, he kept it close the whole time.

Iron Man 2:

And what else is there? Captain America comics.

I doubt Howard was reading comics, and just left one in his chest with exclusively scientific stuff. This chest was for Tony to rediscover a new element. We can infer Howard gave the comics to Tony when he was a kid. And when Tony grew up, his father put it in the chest, so that when Tony opened it, it would be a sign that the contents inside were for him.

So, those people are wrong to believe what Tony said there. Because Tony didn’t just hate Captain America, he was a fan. Rogers was his idol.

This is not something new.

Avengers Assemble - Universe 12041.

Why did he then say that he hated him? Well, why did he say "I'm fine" before passing out in Endgame? Because he hides behind the opposite impression when he is under stress. Being childish and energetic in public when he's dying, being indifferent when he cares a lot, saying "I hate you" when he likes the person. Like a boy pulling the pigtail of a girl he likes.

Conclusion: there are no actual signs that Tony hated Steve Rogers. But there are signs that he liked and admired him when Tony was a kid and later when they met. What was in between – I’ll show you in my next posts.

#marvel #mcu #tony stark #iron man #the avengers #avengers endgame #captain america civil war #steve rogers #captain america #avengers assemble #iron man 2 #howard stark

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eppysboys · 4 months ago

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Interview with Nancy Lee Andrews, March 2008 for 'Daytrippin'.

Daytrippin’: Let’s start from the beginning. When did you first meet Ringo Starr?

Nancy Lee Andrews: I met Ringo on a Monday afternoon in May 27, 1974. John had rented actor Peter Lawford’s infamous Santa Monica beach home where he and May Pang hosted many get-togethers. Girlfriends and wives were cooking in the kitchen and kids were swimming in the pool. It was a family get-together, rock ‘n’ roll style. A seat was offered to me at the poker table and I found myself next to Ringo. He was so charming, playful, witty and cute as hell. He might have had sad eyes, but they were twinkling at me that day.

Two months later, I got a call from May, who announced she and John were back in town. They shuttled back and forth between New York and Los Angeles so I kept their funky ’68 Barracuda in my garage. She asked me to bring the car to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and we would hang out and have some dinner. I knocked on the door to the suite expecting to see John or May, but Ringo answered instead. It took me by surprise and I said, “Oh, hello.” Ringo smiled and said, “I remember you… you’re my poker partner!”

After we exchanged flirtatious pleasantries, we headed down to Sunset Sound Studios where Ringo was working on Goodnight Vienna. John, May and I spent hours encouraging Ringo as he laid down vocals. When he finished we ventured to The Fiddler, a favorite Sunset Strip hangout that stayed open late and served delicious fried fish and chips. It had an old Wurlitzer jukebox. The two boys drank, dropped quarters in the jukebox, singing and discussing women, wives and life while May and I chatted, watching them.

Ringo turned more melancholy as we approached two in the morning, holding my hand, touching my face, and looking at me with those big blue watery eyes. He weaved his way to the jukebox and punched in Charlie Rich’s “The Most Beautiful Girl In The World” over and over again. At one point he was on his knees, resting his head against the speaker, which was at the bottom of the Wurlitzer.

“That poor guy,” I said to John and May. “He’s still in love with his wife. Look at him, his heart is broken.” John said softly, “Nancy, he’s a good lad… give him a chance… you two will be good together.” At that moment I didn’t realize just how prophetic John’s statement would be.

Daytrippin’: So you knew John Lennon before you actually met Ringo?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Yes. I met John through my old boyfriend and legendary bass player, Carl Radle. Carl played bass for Leon Russell and Eric Clapton and did many sessions in LA. So I met John at a recording studio. I can’t recall exactly what session it was but May and I instantly became friends that night and John gave me the thumbs up.

Daytrippin’: So what was John like as a person?

Nancy Lee Andrews: He was high energy. He loved a good conversation. He liked facts about a subject. And he was simple when it came to his needs, music, food and friends. He was a night owl and liked to go to the movies after midnight. One night we went downtown to a funky theater with Bob Dylan to see a Bruce Lee marathon. Those were the days when a Beatle could make a run in the middle of the night to Pinks for a pig out on hot dogs. He would get so excited in the recording studio and start sort of dancing when he was hearing what he wanted. He just loved to get groups of us at the microphone for backup vocals. We had a lot of fun.

Daytrippin’: And you met George Harrison before all of them. (Her boyfriend at the time, Carl Radle, played bass on All Things Must Pass and The Concert for Bangla Desh.) What was George like?

Nancy Lee Andrews: George was quiet but had this intensity when he talked to you. Again, this guy loved music and it was all about the music. His wife at the time, Pattie Boyd, was great to hang out with. She’s a creative woman and a wonderful person. A few years later Ringo and I went to visit him and Olivia at Friar Park in 1979. They were so happy. Olivia cooked a delicious dinner, he played the guitar and we wandered around that huge mansion while he told us its history. He opened a door, I think it was in the kitchen and handed us candles and told us to follow him. I thought, Oh, we’re going to the spooky cellar but the stairs kept going down and down and finally we landed on a flat surface. I looked, and couldn’t believe what I saw… it was a cave complete with stylolites. Walkways through a cavern. There was even a stream running through it! I had my camera with me and we had a hilarious time shooting with and without the flash. I have so many incredible pictures of us in that cave.

After that we settled in his study/music room and he handed me a bowl of rubies… big ones, small ones that were all cabachons. It was days before my birthday and he said to pick what ever I want and have something made. While he and Ringo talked and played the guitar I settled in front of the fireplace and designed a necklace with lots of hanging rubies. One of those nights I’ll never forget.

Daytrippin’: So after John set you up with Ringo, how did your relationship develop?

Nancy Lee Andrews: After our first date we were hooked on each other. We just continued until one day we were looking for a house together and we were a couple. Our world was fast and on the move all over the world. We had a place in Monte Carlo, England, Amsterdam and LA. Between the recording studios, movie premieres, promotion tours, traveling nine months a year and juggling the children, friends and family we were gypsies — elegant gypsies. Sometimes we would unplug the phones and hide out in our own house not letting anybody know we were in town. Just a few days of old movies, some home made popcorn and our favorite meals. Those days were some of our best times.

Daytrippin’: Your new photo book, A Dose of Rock ‘n’ Roll, chronicles your life with Ringo (1974-1980) as well as the decade of the 1970s. How did you go from an Eileen Ford Model to becoming a rock photographer?

Nancy Lee Andrews: I always had a camera in my hand and recorded what was happening in front of me. Thinking back, there are so many times I wish I had clicked the shutter instead of feeling the moment was too personal and awkward to take a picture. But you know there are thousands of images from our life and the people who just happened to be there and I would click. Like the great images of George at the Grand Prix in Monte Carlo… click, click… they’re in the book. But not all of them, so I’m going to introduce many new images in the gallery shows. If I used half of what I have the book would be many, many volumes. You know looking back I had the ultimate all access pass and nobody ever told me to put my camera down.

Daytrippin’: How did the camera figure into your relationship with Ringo and how did he help boost your career?

Nancy Lee Andrews: The camera was a huge part of our lives. We were both posers and loved to give it up for the camera. He loved the way I saw things and encouraged me to shoot. One day he said he needed a new head shot for the new album and said, “You shoot it.” We went out by the side of our house where the light reflected beautifully and we did our little session. After that we did his next two album covers — Ringo the 4th and Bad Boy, the “Ringo” TV Special and various other publicity images. He is a natural in front of the camera. There are images I took of him while in Morocco that are breathtaking. He actually looked like he could be a Bedouin lord… a flowing Black cape with a long hood… he merged with the culture and they accepted him as one of their own as we strolled through the Medina. We were living in our own personal movie in a foreign world and I was shooting it. What a trip!

Daytrippin’: You also helped Ringo write a song, the lovely “Las Brisas” on Ringo’s Rotogravure. How did that come about?

Nancy Lee Andrews: We were in Acapulco, I think it was the first year of our relationship, and it was so romantic at the Las Brisas Hotel. Everything was pink — pink jeeps, pink flowers floating in the pool, etc. I was fascinated with the language and was asking someone to translate words for me and writing them down on a napkin in a poem form. A band was playing and Ringo picked up the napkin and stared singing the words. We worked on it over the next few days and it became our little song.

Daytrippin’: You also took the cover and back shot of Ringo’s next album, Ringo the 4th. What inspired you?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Fantasy, fairy tales, sword and sorcery, not sure but evolved from a nice bottle of champagne and maybe a book we had been reading. I think I put that sword in his hands to represent him slaying his demons. There was this big empty closet in our suite at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan. I mean, it would have been a bedroom in some apartments. Any way it was the perfect light box when the flash went off. We had the best time shooting in that closet with my girlfriend, Rita, on his shoulders.

Daytrippin’: There’s a famous shot of you, Ringo and Paul and Linda McCartney on 5th Avenue in New York. What was Paul like and how did that photo come about?

Nancy Lee Andrews: We were strolling down 5th Avenue back to the Plaza Hotel and we hear someone calling Ringo’s name. I turned and saw Paul and Linda across the street. I mean what is the chance of that? Paul had a photographer following him so when he caught up with us the photographer snapped away. Paul and Linda came back to the hotel with us and we ordered some tea up to the suite. I found Paul very charming and down to earth. He and Linda were a real couple; you know, they were a unit. Linda had a wonderful sense of humor. We never hung out with them. They were always on the farm and Paul had his own music. He did write a song for Ringo’s Rotogravure, Pure Gold. Paul said it was about me for Ringo, so he recorded it.

Daytrippin’: Ringo once again called upon you to take publicity photos for the “Ringo TV Special” in 1978. What do you recall about that shoot and how did Ringo approach the project?

Nancy Lee Andrews: He took the role seriously because it was the first vehicle that revolved around him. American TV was a very important vehicle to promote his music. We had just acquired a house in the Hollywood Hills and it was empty, so we decided to use the living room as our studio. It was great fun working with an art director and director. Ringo was surrounded by some great performers who just loved him.

Daytrippin’: You met a lot of famous people through Ringo. Who was the most memorable?

Nancy Lee Andrews: The Duke! We were having dinner one night at the El Padrino Room at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and I was beside myself because John Wayne was sitting a table away. He was in my line of sight, but not Ringo’s. I was fidgeting and terribly distracted. Ringo finally asked me what was wrong with me and I gushed, “I can’t believe this but John Wayne is sitting right over there.” Ringo’s eyes lit up and we sat there like two starstruck kids. When John Wayne was leaving he walked right by our table and Ringo stopped him to say hello. He was so nice and very tall. Ringo asked him if he would give me a kiss and he said sure. He put out his hand and pulled me up from the table and laid a Maureen O’Hara big one right on my lips. I was a puddle with a stupid grin on my face as Ringo laughed and the other diners smiled at me. Now that was a man and a legend!

Daytrippin’: You’ve got some great photos of Ringo and Keith Moon at Trancas Beach in Malibu. What was your relationship with “Moonie” and was he as crazy as he has been portrayed in the past?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Keith had two sides. Some of those pictures in Malibu capture the soft cuddly side of him. The other side was the Mad Hatter who could make any tea party interesting.

Daytrippin’: You also developed close friendships with other Beatle cohorts such as Harry Nillson, Dr. John and Donovan. Give me a brief thumbnail of each person.

Nancy Lee Andrews: I loved Harry Nilsson like a brother. One of the most brilliant and fascinating men I have ever met. Dr. John was all about the music, too. He loved his kids, a southern gentleman. Donovan is very impish and fun. He loves to entertain and gets everyone involved when he knows he has your attention. A great subject to shoot.

Daytrippin’: The book portrays a very fast-paced, jet-set lifestyle that you shared with Ringo, including trips to England, Japan, Monte Carlo, Morocco, Mexico and the Yucatan. Didn’t you nearly die in a plane crash in the jungle in the Yucatan?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Here’s what happened: we were having a nice time in the Yucatan for about a week until Ringo suddenly became restless. He woke up one morning and said, “Get me off this island. I don’t care how you do it, but get me outta here.” In a matter of hours I managed to book a twin-engine plane to Merida that seated six people. Our party of four, the two pilots and our embarrassing amount of luggage put us well over the plane’s weight capacity. Despite that and a looming tropical storm, no one could talk Ringo into staying another day. The pounding storm forced us to fly so low that the bottom of the plane was brushing against the tops of the trees. I was trying to calm my friend Susan S. Fair down, who was sure that our plane was going to go crash in the jungle and our remains would never be found. Hilary Gerard, Ringo’s manager, was holding Tibetan prayer beads up against his third eye, furiously chanting and wishing for a cigarette. While everyone was frantic and on the verge of breaking down, Ringo was as calm as could be. He said very matter-of-factly, “Don’t worry, it’s not my time to go, so we’ll all be fine.”

Daytrippin’: You went out with Ringo during the height of the disco era. I have it on good account that he took ballroom dancing as a kid and is pretty light on his feet?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Oh my god, he was a fabulous dancer. We loved to go to the discos in Monte Carlo and Regine’s was our favorite. The DJ knew that we loved “I Heard It Through The Grapevine” by Marvin Gaye and would play it at least twice while we were there. Ringo would jump up and pull me to the dance floor. He had moves that were so simple but looked so good. Also we loved to go to Tramps in London… they had the best bangers and mash (sausage and mashed potatoes). We would gobble it down around 2 a.m. before we went home. If other women wanted to dance with Ringo they didn’t ask — they knew I would scratch their eyes out. As far as ballroom dancing I honestly did not know that about him. Hmmm, maybe that’s where he got such good timing.

Daytrippin’: Your relationship with Ringo came to an abrupt end when he met Barbara Bach on the set of Caveman in 1980. You were actually engaged to Ringo at the time. How did you find closure?

Nancy Lee Andrews: It took time. I thought he would come home to me but he fell hard for Barbara Bach. I put my focus on photography. I had a business called Headshots for Women and advertised in Variety. My beauty lighting had the girls lined up. This was before photoshop. I had an air brusher and he would wipe the lines away and the women loved it! Love my computer. I had a couple of committed relationships over the next ten years and finally gave up. That’s when I met my husband and we are now coming up to our 15th anniversary… not to mention the few years of courting.

Daytrippin’: Tell us about your life today and what are your future plans?

Nancy Lee Andrews: Well, life is very exciting these days. The book is coming out and will show my photography, even though it’s a flashback to the ’70s. My friend, May Pang, is also coming out with a book of never before seen photos of John. We’re going to be doing gallery exhibits and book singings together this spring in Scottsdale, Arizona; Palm Springs, California and NYC. I have a wonderful exhibit at the Tennessee State Museum this summer, a combination of A Dose of Rock ‘n’ Roll and a dash of country. I also head up IconicPhotos.com, a Web gallery showcasing some fine photographers work at prices that won’t dent your wallet. I’m currently negotiating gallery exhibits in London, Paris, Amsterdam and San Francisco. Whew, this is only a few months into the year and everything seems to have just taken off.

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prettyoddfever · 3 months ago

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Live in Denver was one single show

just wanted to clear this up because many people keep asking me things about the whole summer tour (or occasionally the literal Fever era) and referring to it all as "Live in Denver."

There were almost 50 shows scheduled for the summer tour. Denver was only one single night. Every picture from the summer tour is not "Live in Denver."

The summer tour didn’t have a fancy name since it was the band’s first national headlining tour and we thought that they were still heading back to the studio in the fall. At the time, the summer tour was usually just called some variation of “the tour,” “the Panic tour,” etc. When the band went overseas afterwards they sometimes referred to it as “the American tour.” Then “the summer tour” became more frequent by November once the Nothing Rhymes With Circus tour existed, and that's what stuck. I’ve seen a few people call the summer tour "the Lucent Dossier tour" now, but that could get confusing since Lucent Dossier was also with P!ATD in late October for the UK part of the international tour.

Here's a picture that the band shared during the summer tour:

ABOUT THE DVD:

In 2006, the Astoria show was the popular professionally recorded show. Live in Denver obviously wasn't a big deal during the Fever era because the dvd wasn't even released until a little over a month before that era ended. The NRWC tour was happening at the time that the dvd was released, so that was much more interesting to me. We'd already seen literally thousands of fan videos of the summer tour, so seeing some different angles on the dvd was fun but nothing new.

I remember a lot of us referred to Live in Denver as "the dvd" for a while. FBR+ became a thing in spring 2007 and then more people had access to watch the dvd and started slowly calling Live in Denver by that name instead:

My thoughts on the dvd: it was nice to have such clear footage, but at the same time the band didn’t really feel or sound totally like themselves. The audio on the dvd was mixed by Matt Squire (the producer of AFYCSO), and I didn't like how he messed with Brendon & Ryan's voices. The dvd didn't fully sound like the normal band from that season and I had liked them the way that they were. Also, Brendon wasn’t as relaxed as he normally was. We’d heard that he was also nervous for the Astoria show that was filmed during P!ATD’s first headlining tour and that the band had been much more fun to watch on other nights in that tour when he could loosen up more. So I don’t watch the dvd nearly as much as regular youtube videos (whatever's left at least ugh) because those feel more like the season I remember & love. I do like how Ryan was extra animated at the Denver show, though!! (He ended up winning MVP that night).

Also, there was never a "Live in Denver" cd.

update: on a similar note, not every single show in the 2008 Honda Civic Tour was in Chicago. Yes, the band played 2 shows in Chicago during that tour, one of which was filmed for Live in Chicago. But that was just one single night in a large tour.

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luckykiwiii101 · 1 year ago

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OH.MY.GOD?!?!

I’m sorry guys but i’m kinda losing it rn.

If you didn’t know i’m into spiritual stuff. Not really spirituality but similar idk.

I just found out that my spiritual number according to NUMEROLOGY is 22 AKA the most powerful spiritual number.

The spiritual numbers go through 1-9.

But there are 3 spiritual outliers which are 11, 22 and 33.

You can figure out your spiritual number through your birthdate.

For example mine is February 19th 2008 (19/02/2008)

So to get my spiritual number i just add all those numbers together, so 1+9+0+2+2+0+0+8 = 22

Since my number automatically adds up to 22, I do not have to add 2 and 2 together. But if your number is any other double digit number other than 11, 22 and 33, you have to add the two digits together. So example, if you get the number 14, you would have to add 1 and 4 which = 5.

Meanings of the spiritual outliers:

11 - The Empath

22 - The Master Architect

33 - The Teacher (the rarest)

Most psychics in the world are spiritual outliers.

Everything in the world, every object, every human has a spiritual number.

11, 22 and 33 which are the spiritual outliers have psychic abilities. They are empathic psychics.

The reason i’m freaked out is because my spiritual number (22) has the title of “The Master Architect”, which means that I like to “build” things. But it was weird because i realised “no i don’t like building, in fact I hate it.” But no, I wasn’t thinking outside the box. I was thinking of building actual buildings. Or body building etc.

But then i dug a little deeper. And i found out that spiritual number 22 signifies the ability to manifest dreams into reality, embodies the power of the subconscious mind, and empowers connection to the realm of higher energy. Hence the title “Master Architect.”

If you didn’t know, i’m a BIG DISBELIEVER in coincidences. I do not believe that ANYTHING is truly a coincidence. And to find the answer to my spiritual number is just so specific to my life and interests.

I’m a master builder at life. And I found out about the law of assumption for a reason. I found out about subliminals when I was 9 and found out about the law of assumption when I was 12.

If you do not have the spiritual numbers 11, 22 or 33 it does not mean you aren’t special. ALL spiritual numbers are special and powerful but i do not believe that they define you. We are all master creators if we choose to be.

And i do not believe that it’s a coincidence that i find out my spiritual number and the meaning behind it the second i chose to step into my own power and BUILD my life the way i want.

Anyway that was just a little something i wanted to share!!

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa tumblr #loassumption #loa blog #loablr #manifestation #loa #the void state

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justinspoliticalcorner · 7 months ago

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Kylie Cheung at Jezebel:

The day after Election Day, calls to the Trevor Project’s crisis services hotline for LGBTQ youth surged by 200%; online searches for abortion pills and emergency contraception skyrocketed, too. Queer youth, women, and girls were clearly concerned about what a second Trump presidency meant for their safety and their futures. But the country has been largely apathetic to their fears. Instead, we’re being called to consider young men’s suffering—real and imagined—and the insidious forces that seemed to shift this demographic to the right. A sampling of post-election headlines includes, “We Asked Young Men Why They Voted for Donald Trump—Here’s What They Said,” “The ‘Lost Boys’ of Gen Z: how Trump won the hearts of alienated young men,” “What’s the Matter with Young Male Voters?” and “Trump Offered Men Something That Democrats Never Could.” Of course, Jezebel is now adding to that list, but what’s missing from some of these stories is the manosphere as an increasingly powerful political arm.

Exit polls show Trump received a larger proportion of voters under 30 than any Republican presidential candidate since 2008. In 2020, Joe Biden beat Trump by 11 points among men under 30. Last week, Trump beat Kamala Harris by two points. (Among young white men without college degrees, he beat Harris 56% to 40%.) Some of this should be taken with a grain of salt: Youth turnout dropped sharply from 2020, so these stats offer an incomplete snapshot of an entire generation’s views. But, as journalists, organizers, and the Democratic Party scramble for answers, one concern that’s come to the forefront is the manosphere—a fast-growing, unrepentantly hateful community of men’s lifestyle influencers, podcasters, and media personalities who glorify and preach misogyny to a new generation of young men. Think: serially accused rapist and human trafficker Andrew Tate, hate speech-platforming Twitch streamer Adin Ross, or misogynist streamer Sneako, who once slapped a woman on camera as a “prank.” There’s also TikTok star Bryce Hall, who joined Trump on the campaign trail about a year after collaborating with proud neo-Nazis, including Sneako. One video from December 2023 shows Sneako laughing as he’s approached by young fans who yell, “Fuck the women” and “All gays can die.” He half-jokingly asks the camera, “What have I done?”

On Election Night, Trump handed the mic to UFC President Dana White (who, like Sneako, also slapped a woman on camera) at his victory party, and White directly thanked Ross, as well as the Nelk Boys and Theo Von, more popular manosphere influencers and podcasters who also supported Trump’s campaign. Over the last several months, Trump made numerous appearances on their shows and streams and hosted them at his rallies. And, because this seems to have worked, those who didn’t see Trump’s victory coming are now trying to understand this chilling sphere of influence that’s seemingly been radicalizing young men right under our noses.

It may be annoying, even disturbing to have to take this increasingly mainstream underworld seriously, but Angelo Carusone, president of Media Matters for America (MMFA), tells Jezebel that understanding the manosphere is important to understand “what future generations are going to look like.” Carusone says MMFA researchers tracked at least 20 times that Trump appeared on manosphere podcasts—including those of Von, Hall, the Nelk Boys, and Jake Paul—since May. In 2023, Ross and other popular manosphere creators including JiDion, Steve Deleonardis, Jorge Masvidal, and alleged rapist DJ Akademiks, appeared with Trump at a UFC event. The meet-and-greet was set up by right-wing video platform, Rumble.

MMFA has been closely following manosphere stars for years now, watching them and the social platforms that host them profit off of mocking rape survivors and trans people, or joking about and openly celebrating violence against women to their impressionable, mostly teen and tween boy audiences. Young people who might turn to them for apolitical interests—weightlifting, video games, MMA fighting, dating advice—are increasingly inundated with out-of-context stats and arguments about how much easier it is for women to get jobs, or minorities to get into college, or trans people to succeed at sports. These audiences are radicalized to believe a liberal, feminist world order is crushing them. Now, thanks to social media algorithms, content about weightlifting, video games, MMA fighting, and dating has become a pipeline to the right.

[...] Nicole Regalado, vice president of campaigns at Ultraviolet, told Jezebel her organization has been tracking online misogyny campaigns since Gamergate in 2014, which saw an outbreak of rabid sexism, racism, and queerphobia against perceived feminist progress in the video game industry. But she’s been alarmed by sharp rises in online harassment against women in recent years. It doesn’t help, Regalado said, that at a time when the manosphere is surging, with the help of anti-MeToo backlash and a golden age of media illiteracy, “social media platforms are gutting moderation, trust, and safety teams,” while “platforming and profiting off hate.” A lot of this came to a head with the outcome of the 2024 election, Regalado said, which “followed months of disinformation and racism-misogyny about Kamala Harris” from popular right-wing, manosphere-type influencers. Trump’s victory has only emboldened this toxic stew of misogyny, culminating in the viral “your body, my choice” slogan.

I understand the importance of Democrats and progressives figuring out how to “reach” young men—the electoral stakes are high, especially for the most marginalized among us. But in the last week, I’ve often found myself frustrated, even disgusted by the idea that young men are uniquely suffering because they’re young men, that they deserve outsized sympathy and attention at a time when women and other marginalized communities are on the brink of perhaps one of the severest rollbacks of our rights in modern times. Teen girls and young women suffer from endemic sexual violence and misogyny, and many still find it in their hearts to not elect a fascist.

Carusone says he’s struggled with this, too. But he’s made sense of it by understanding the manosphere and its toxic, mass appeal as a youth issue. “The 30-year-old men who are upset, the Tucker Carlsons of the world, they need to get over it. They’re not who I’m talking about,” he said. But manosphere content is poisoning the minds of children, shaping them to become violent toward other children, to grow up and inflict violence on marginalized people. “We have to think about this as it relates to kids. If we don’t do something about this now, we’re messing up kids,” Carusone explained. “As these boys and young men grow, they’re going to build and organize political power, and even worse, as they move into maturity, they’re going to be more violent and abusive than previous generations.”

Jezebel does an excellent report on how the cadre of manosphere influencers such as the Nelk Boys, Sneako, and Adin Ross-- who helped push young men to the right and push Donald Trump over the finish line and how they’ll shape politics.

#2024 Presidential Election #2024 Elections #Manosphere #MRA Extremism #Men's Rights Activism #Donald Trump #Adin Ross #Sneako #Nelk Boys #Andrew Tate #Joe Rogan #Bryce Hall #Dana White #Theo Von #Tucker Carlson #Gamergate #MeToo

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hanahaki-hours · 3 months ago

Text

❀。• *₊°。 ❀° 。。° ❀ 。° ₊ * •。❀

Hanahaki Hours 2025

❀。• *₊°。 ❀° 。。° ❀ 。° ₊ * •。❀

Welcome to our third year of Hanahaki Hours! Hosted in the month known for its showers bringing flowers; May!

A calendar dedicated to a popular trope, Hanahaki Disease, which came along in 2008, August 9th. It's a fictional disease in which a character coughs up flowers which grow inside them from unrequited love (or other interpretations).

This year will be a bit different from prior as we’ll be using the entire month! There will be one prompt per week in order to grant you sufficient time to plot, write, and post.

How you use the prompts is up to your own creative interpretation! You can use the quotes, flowers, word, or all of them! Have fun with it!

Need inspiration? Don’t feel like researching flowers? Flower symbolism has been premade! Click here for the full list or click here for a master list if you only want one specific flower!(Releasing later)

Open to any fandom, ship, pairing, original work, or otherwise to use!

Tags for Tumblr:

#Hanahaki Hours 2025 #Hanahaki Hours

Tags for Ao3:

Hanahaki Hours 2025 Hanahaki Hours the coffee fandom’s Hanahaki hours

Ao3 Collection:

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Flower_Hours

Tag @hanahaki-hours and reblog for others to see too! I will reblog any I’m tagged in!

Please feel free to reach out to @hanahaki-hours and/or @the-coffee-fandom if you have any questions! Especially if you need more information on flowers.

Remember that if the days don't match your schedule, you can do these at any time! Collection stays open and prompts are always available!

Written out prompts below the cut!

Week One:

Quote: “What if we didn’t?”

Flower: Bluebell

Word: Due

Week Two:

Quote: “That was kind of dramatic.”

Flower: Astilbe

Word: Friends

Week Three:

Quote: “Do you remember me?”

Flower: Sunflower

Word: Fatith

Week Four:

Quote: “Are those goldfish?”

Flower: Hollyhock

Word: Tune

Substitutions:

Quote: “That was really hot not gonna lie.”

Quote: “Do it again.”

Flower: Pansy

Flower: Vinca

Word: Sugar

Word: Drive

Previous Calendars:

2023

2024

#hanahaki hours #hanahaki #writing events #hanahaki disease #hanahaki hours 2025 #hanahaki event #fandom event #events #writing prompt #writing challenge #writing event

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aerixfixoff · 2 months ago

Text

Einen Verloren VI

Chapter 6: Whispers in the dark

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Mingi x Fem!Reader (feat. Choi San )

Genre: Angst, Yandere, Horror, Slight Humor, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Cursing, stalking, obsessive behavior, yandere themes, implied violence, kidnapping, and controlling behavior.

Word Count: 2,834

Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as we take a deeper look into the missing member of ateez.

———————————————————————-

The first mistake in your plan was ever trusting Choi San, but you didn’t know this yet. You were blind—very blind. You should have known better. But after signing the documents and stepping out of his house, you realized that if this plan was going to skyrocket, you needed more help than you originally thought.

The night air was cold against your skin as you walked home, your mind racing with uncertainty. Was this really the best decision? San had been charismatic, smooth with his words, promising you exactly what you needed. But something about him lingered in your mind like a whisper in the dark. You shook it off. There was no turning back now.

After returning home to the place you shared with Mingi, you didn’t waste a second. Your mind buzzed with unease as you sat at your desk, fingers hesitating over the keyboard before you finally typed the name:

Ateez.

The search results flooded the screen instantly—fan pages, business articles, rumors of underground dealings. But you weren’t looking for the public version of them. You needed the truth buried beneath the surface. Your fingers danced over the keys, moving past the mainstream media into the darker corners of the web, where information wasn’t just given—it was sold to those who knew where to look.

Your breath hitched slightly as your eyes traced over the name again.

CȘ.

It was nothing more than two cryptic letters, yet they carried the weight of something intentionally erased. You frowned, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing it into the search bar.

Nothing.

No images. No detailed records. Not even a single mention in the typical underground forums that usually had dirt on everyone.

You exhaled sharply, clicking through archived pages and old news articles, digging deeper into the forgotten corners of the internet. And then—finally—something.

A blurry, low-resolution photo surfaced on an old forum post dated July 2008. It was heavily pixelated, distorted beyond recognition, but you could make out the faint outline of a figure standing beside the rest of Ateez. The eighth member.

Your eyes narrowed.

Who are you?

The post itself was brief, the words rushed as if the author had been desperate to get the information out before it was wiped away. “CȘ was a ghost in the making. KQ never planned to let him stay. He knew something. Maybe too much. And then, one day, he just—vanished. No trace. No body. No goodbye. Just gone.” Your pulse quickened as you scrolled further. “People say he didn’t leave. They say he’s still working with them—just from the shadows. A man without a face. A whisper in the dark. The kind of person you never see coming.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

An eighth member that was never truly gone. A ghost still tied to KQ, moving pieces in the background. And if that was true, it meant something even more dangerous—Ateez had an ace up their sleeve. One no one even knew existed. You swallowed hard, closing your laptop slowly as realization settled over you. You had stepped into something far bigger than you had anticipated. And the worst part?

You weren’t sure if you could still turn back.

Meanwhile, across the country, Mingi sat in a dimly lit lounge, the scent of whiskey and smoke thick in the air. The low hum of jazz music played in the background, but he barely registered it. His focus was elsewhere.

He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest while the other held a half-empty glass of whiskey. His grip was relaxed, but his knuckles were just a little too tight around the crystal. The silence tense.

Yunho was the first to break it.

“There’s no way she’s actually doing this,” he muttered, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking a sip, his disbelief evident.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, let out a low whistle, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Damn. And I underestimated her.” His voice held something close to admiration, but there was amusement there too—like he was enjoying the chaos you were stirring up.

Mingi exhaled slowly, resting his chin on his hand. His fingers tapped against the table rhythmically—one, two, three—a slow, deliberate beat.

You went to San?

Of all people?

His jaw clenched for a brief second before he masked it with a chuckle—low, quiet, and void of humor.

He wasn’t angry. No.

He was intrigued.

You were pushing limits he never thought you’d dare to cross. You were reckless, unpredictable, and so fucking bold. And that? That made his blood run hot.

But what did anger him—what made his fingers tighten around the glass until the ice inside cracked—was the fact that you turned to another man. His doll sought out someone else instead of coming to him.

He scoffed, swirling the whiskey in his glass before taking a slow sip. The burn did nothing to cool the fire simmering beneath his skin. “She’s got some nerve,” he mused, almost to himself. His tongue flicked over his lower lip as he thought about you—how far you were willing to go. How far could he push you before you finally snapped?

“So what are you going to do?” Jongho asked nonchalantly, watching him carefully. Mingi’s lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes were dark. “Oh, my doll is gonna play for me,” he murmured, voice laced with something dangerous. Something possessive. He dragged his thumb across his lower lip, the thought of you sneaking around, lying, plotting against him—it should piss him off.

And it did.

But fuck, it also made him want you even more.

The rain poured relentlessly as you stood outside Natty’s house, your jacket soaked through, the cold biting at your skin. Your fingers trembled slightly—not from the chill, but from the weight of what you were about to do. You had been knocking for nearly 30 minutes, the ache in your knuckles barely registering over the frustration bubbling in your chest.

When the door finally creaked open, Natty leaned against the frame, her expression unreadable. Her robe was loosely tied around her waist, the silk fabric clinging to her skin in a way that made it impossible not to notice. The dim lighting from inside her house cast a glow on her face, highlighting her sharp features.

She tilted her head, studying you like a cat watching a trapped mouse.

“What do you want?” she asked, her tone almost biting.

“A partnership.”

She let out a dry, humorless chuckle, her lips curling in amusement.

“A partnership?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “You’re kidding me.”

You swallowed your pride. You knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but you needed her.

“Look, Natty,” you started, steadying your breath, “I know how much you love Mingi.”

The words felt like acid on your tongue, burning as they left your mouth. Because deep down, you knew—you knew—that a part of you still loved him, too. But love was a weakness you couldn’t afford right now.

Natty’s expression didn’t falter, but something flickered in her eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? Or maybe something more dangerous.

She took a step closer, her perfume—dark and intoxicating—wrapping around you like a whispered threat.

“You’re really willing to take him down?” she murmured, her voice like velvet, smooth and laced with something unreadable.

You hesitated for just a second.

A second too long.

Natty’s lips parted into a slow, knowing smile. “You hesitate.”

You clenched your jaw. “I need to take him down.”

She hummed, tilting her head slightly, as if considering. “And then what?” she asked, running a manicured finger along her collarbone absentmindedly. “If you do manage to bring him down, what happens to you?”

You exhaled sharply. “That’s not your concern.”

“Oh, but it is,” she purred, circling you slowly. “Because if you fail, and trust me, you will—he won’t just kill you.” She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear. “He’ll break you first.”

A shiver ran down your spine, but you refused to let her see it.

“I’m not here for a lecture,” you said, your voice sharp. “I’m here to offer you a deal. You help me take him down, and when he falls, you can be the one to rebuild him. Make him see you as his true love.”

Natty’s smirk faltered for a split second. Got her.

She stepped back, arms crossed, considering your words.

“I accept.”

Relief flooded through you for only a moment before her gaze darkened.

“But,” she continued, voice lower now, “I don’t think you understand what you’re getting into.”

She turned, walking up the grand staircase without another word.

“Are you coming?” she called over her shoulder. “Or are you just gonna stand there looking stupid?”

You followed her inside, your wet shoes leaving faint prints on the marble floor. The house was just as you remembered—luxurious, intimidating, and dangerously elegant.

Natty’s office was no different. The scent of old books and freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the faint trace of her perfume. She gestured for you to sit in the leather chair across from her desk, the atmosphere thick with something unspoken.

“To even get close to disrupting their legacy,” she started, picking up her coffee cup with a lazy grace, “you’d have to interfere with their trades.”

Her nails tapped against the porcelain.

“Trades usually go up for at least six hours on the Seventeen side.”

Your eyes narrowed. Seventeen.

A notorious mafia group. Ruthless. Powerful. Their trades were infamous—firearms, drugs, and most importantly, documents.

“They’re set to trade something big soon,” Natty continued, leaning forward slightly. “I don’t know much, but there’s an important file Ateez needs for an upcoming mission.” Her voice lowered, her expression darkening. “2 billion won is on the line. If you get your hands on that document and destroy it, their stocks will plummet.”

Your heart pounded.

You could barely process the weight of what she was saying, but one thing was clear—this was bigger than you thought.

“Okay,” you said, steadying yourself. “But I’ll need your help.”

Natty raised a perfectly arched brow. “I gave you the information. I can’t do any more.”

“Please, Natty. Please.” Your voice was desperate but unwavering.

She let out a slow breath, tapping her nails against the desk as she considered.

“The trade goes on from 5 to 7. Be there sharp. April 15th—two months from now. This is going to be risky, Y/N.” Her eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Do you have anyone else on this with you?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

You met her gaze, your tone unwavering.

“That’s not for me to disclose.”

Natty let out a low chuckle, shaking her head.

“Fair enough.”

She leaned forward, her voice dropping into something almost sinister.

“I’ll see you here for training on Monday. 3:35. No later. Be sharp.”

“Training?” You frowned.

She smirked. “Do you really think you’re going to succeed without knowing how to use a firearm?”

One month had passed.

Each night, you snuck out—meeting Natty, training relentlessly, pushing yourself harder than ever before. Bruises decorated your body like war wounds, your muscles ached with exhaustion, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. This wasn’t just about revenge anymore—it was about proving to yourself that you were capable of taking them down.

But after Mingi returned, sneaking out became harder. His presence loomed over you like a storm cloud, heavy and suffocating. He watched you closer, his gaze lingering a second too long whenever you passed by, his touches becoming more calculated��testing, searching.

And then, he noticed the bruises.

The first time, you had barely managed to cover them up. A poorly placed concealer patch on your wrist, a long-sleeved shirt despite the summer heat. But Mingi wasn’t a fool.

His fingers brushed against the faint purple mark peeking out from the hem of your sleeve one evening as you reached for a glass of water.

You flinched.

It was subtle—barely noticeable—but he noticed.

His grip tightened around your wrist just for a second before he let go, his gaze darkening.

“You been getting into fights without me, doll?” His voice was smooth, playful even, but there was something dangerous lurking beneath it. You forced a laugh, pulling your arm away casually. “Just bumped into a door.”

He didn’t believe you. Not for a second. But he didn’t press further. Not yet.

Instead, he started paying even closer attention.

He noted how you were more exhausted than usual, how you always seemed to be slipping away at odd hours, how your showers lasted longer—probably to clean the wounds. And yet, no matter how much he observed, he could never quite catch where you were going.

It was driving him insane.

So he waited.

Watched.

Tracked every movement, every breath, every carefully planned excuse you came up with.

And the more he watched, the more fascinated he became.

Oh, Y/N…

You just became so much more interesting to him.

Chapter 6.5 >

#kpop #ateez #ateez mingi #mingi angst #mingi x reader #ateez x y/n #mafia ateez #mingi smut #mafia au #mingi x fem!reader #ateez x you #ateez x reader #song mingi #ateez masterlist

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