#university of oregon if anyones wondering

[brightdrawings]

Crystal Meet Cute

My secret Santa gift for @mother-ofthe-universe. They wanted something to do with their Stanley Universe Au. And my fiddstan heart felt kinship for a scene they described. They enjoyed it so I hope you all enjoy it too (and be sure to check out their work too, they have some really fun au's)

(also on ao3!)

Fiddleford gave a heavy sigh. Greasy's diner wasn’t the best place to eat. As is the name, the food was greasy, and the coffee was too watery. Then again, that isn’t why most people came out to this diner in the middle of the town. At least Fiddleford dearly hoped no one was coming out to Greasy’s for the food. For most it was a convenient and criminally cheap place to eat.

But for Fiddleford McGucket, a visit to Greasy’s in the morning was a chance to socialize. Working with Stanford Pines wasn’t bad, he was his best friend after all. However, knowing Stanford as well as he did, he knew the man was averse to meeting people, and heaven forbid he spoke with them. And while he did love his friend dearly, there was only so many times he could talk about their latest research notes or their next DDmD game plan. 

Fiddleford needed to talk to people, different people, new people. And while the townsfolk were odd, they were at least interesting for conversation. From the fellow southerner who ran the car dealership, to the loud lumberjack, even the aspiring news presenter entered through Greasy’s always open doors. Everyone had their own lives with their own stories to share. And Fiddleford enjoyed listening to each and every one. He was more than eager to share some of his own.  It helped break down the confusion surrounding Stanford and his research, and in some instances made it worse. 

Unfortunately today was shaping up to be a rather quiet morning. Winter in Oregon was harsher than some places. And this morning seemed worse than usual, 6 inches of snow with more expected throughout the day, made it no wonder as to why the diner was empty. It seemed that most of the town was taking their time in getting out of bed. Fiddleford wasn’t afforded that luxury as his roommate and employer had a strict schedule for observing nature, and any desire to avoid frostbite was considered irrelevant.

He was ready to pick himself up, and leave the empty diner when the door opened. Working for a few months in Gravity Falls had gotten Fiddleford used to the locals, even to the  oddities that tried to blend in among them, but the man who walked through the diner door was not something or one he had seen before. He had long curled hair that reached his back, a familiar square jaw and a cheeky grin. But the oddest part, from where Fiddleford stood at least, was the fact that the man was walking around in a T-shirt in this blistering cold.

“Heya Susan!” the man called in a gravelly voice. “Give me the usual. With extra sugar.”

“Comin’ right up Stan.” Susan called back with her usual cheerful tone. 

He walked into the diner, taking a seat a couple of booths down from Fiddleford. Looking down at his coffee, Fiddleford felt a wave of curiosity and sympathy wash over him. He picked up his mug and made his way to this ‘Stan’. He stopped next to the booth before speaking. “Mornin’ Stan.” Fiddlefod said with his friendliest smile. “Is this seat taken?”

“Mornin’ to you too Mac, how’d you get my name?” Stan said, he reached a hand into his pocket and gave Fiddleford a quick once over. 

“Hard to miss it with Susan yellin’ it across the diner.” Fiddleford chuckled. “I don’t have time to come to town for long, so I try to talk to anyone I can before I have to go back to work.”

“Yeah, yeah. take a seat if you want.” Stan withdrew his hand from his pocket and pointed to the seat opposite him. His attention engrossed in the worn out menu in front of him.

“What’s your usual? If’n you don’t mind me asking.” Fiddleford took his seat, placing his coffee on the table.

“Black.” Stan said flatly.

“Smart, smart. The coffee here don’t taste too good if you ask me.” Fiddleford spoke behind his hand. Not wanting to hurt Susan’s feelings with his words.

“Like having sex on a canoe.” Stan rolled his eyes. “So what’s your name Mr. Talks-a-lot.” 

“My name is Fiddleford Hadron McGucket.” Fiddleford proudly offered his hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Fidds.” Stan hardly looked up from his menu. Fiddleford could see that the other man was scanning through the page quickly. His eyes went from price then to menu item. Watching someone else in a similar situation to him when he was in college hurt Fiddleford’s heart. He was about to say something else when something on the back of Stan’s menu caught his eyes, and an idea sparked to life in his mind.

“Susan!” Fiddleford called. “Can I get two plates of waffles please?”

“Comin’ Right up Fiddleford!” Susan replied

“You sure a string bean like you can eat more than one?” Stan smirked.

“Oh one’s for you Stan.” Fiddleford smirked. 

“Hey hey, I ain't got the dough for something like that.” Stan said quickly. He placed both hands on the table.

“No no! Don’t worry. This is on me.” He flipped over Stan’s menu and pointed at a post-it note that had a ‘2 for 1’ deal written on it.

“The hell’s this?” Stan scoffed.

“Just between us, but I heard a rumor that these menus were real pricey for Susan to get printed. So when she has specials and people don’t read the board, she puts notes on the menus to get more people buyin’ food.” Fiddleford whispered behind his hand.

“How do I know you didn’t stick this one when I wasn't looking?” Stan raised an eyebrow. “You were the only other guy here before I walked in.”

“How would I know which booth you could sit in and plant a note there?”Fiddleford asked. “What am I Psychic?”

“I know a couple, that’s more likely than you think.” Stan squinted.

“There’s an easy solution for this.” Fiddleford turned to the window to the kitchen. “Susan, is the 2 for 1 still available?” 

“Yessire!” Susn replied cheerfully. She waved her spatula at Fiddleford to punctuate her cheer.

“Right. Yeah okay. So long as I don’t gotta pay for nothin’ I guess I don’t mind.” Stan slipped back in his seat. He turned his gaze away from the cheerful southerner. 

“Trust me, the food might live up to the name and the coffee might not be great but they’re better together than alone.” Fiddleford said.

“I heard that Gucket.” Susan said bitterly from the kitchen.

“Sorry Susan.” Fiddleford said, his ears turning red while Stan chuckled at his embarrassment. 

The pair sat together, patiently waiting for their food to arrive. As expected it was greasy and would have been much better if made at home. But a full stomach of greasy waffles was preferable to an empty stomach. There was also that added benefit of losing some of the tension Fiddleford felt surrounding Stan like a protective mist. Once their food was eaten, their watery coffee drank and their bill paid, the pair left the diner together.

“Don’t you got some job you gotta go to?” Stan asked as they walked through the town. Several stores had lifted their shutters and were finally opening their doors to customers. 

“Why do you ask Stan?” Fiddleford wore a cheeky grin. “Eager to get rid of me?”

“No but I don't want your boss to give you any shit for being late or nothing.” Stan said. He chewed his cheek.

“Don’t worry about that. If my ‘boss’ gets upset about me talking with people in town then he should get off his high horse and finally take a break.” Fiddleford bumped Stan’s with his elbow.

“Sounds like he’s got a stick up there.” Stan smirked.

“He does sometimes.” Fiddleford nodded.

“Reminds me of someone.” Stan sighed.

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

“I’m nowhere near that cheap,” Stan said with a small smirk.

“I’ll make sure to save up for next time then.” Fiddleford smiled in return.

The pair walked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Fiddleford came to a complete halt.

“You okay string bean?” Stan asked.

“Stanley, could you wait a moment?” Fiddleford didn’t wait for the other man’s response. Instead he dashed into a store a few places in front of them.

It took a few minutes but Fiddleford soon returned, with a large paper bag in hand and a wide grin on his face. He looked around and found Stanley leaning against a tree, hands in pockets and eyes in the sky. Fiddleford was quick to walk over to Stanley and handed him the paper bag.

“What’s this?” Stanley asked. “I already told you Fidds I ain't got dough on me.”

“You’re walking around in a T-shirt in the middle of winter.” Fiddleford put his hands on his hips. “I know that some men say that they don’t ‘feel the cold’ when they reach a certain age but my Ma don’t believe in such a thing and neither do I.”

“That’s nice and all, but I still can’t pay you back.” Stan repeated.

“It’s a gift.” Fiddleford said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I dunno, feels kinda weird.” Stan said.

“Did ya turn down gifts from Santa?”Fidds asked

“I’m Jewish”

“Did you turn down gifts from your family on Hanukkah?” Fidds insisted, unwavering in his generosity.

“Alright alright!” Stan rolled his eyes. “Just don’t make a scene.” 

Fiddleford watched eagerly as Stan opened the paperbag and removed his gift. It was a thick jacket with red sleeves and a hood. On the forearm of each sleeve was an orange fin. There was a long fin that ran along the back and on to the hood of the jacket. The hood also had a pair of large cartoon-y eyes. The chest of the jacket had a gradient that went from purple to blue. The fabric all over had a scale pattern, bringing the fish look of the jacket together.

“What the hell am I looking at?” Stan asked, unable to stop himself chuckling.

“That store has some of the best novelty outfits and stuff you can find.” Fiddleford said with an ear to ear grin. “I bought my boss a pineapple Hawaiian shirt with a pair of pink palm tree sunglasses to match from that store.” 

 “That sounds awful.” Stan chuckled. 

“He said the same thing.” Fiddleford said. “So, do you like it?” 

“Let me try it on first.” Stan said. “Gotta make sure the teeth aren’t inside to stab me.”

“I think that’s the role of the zipper.” 

Fiddleford watched as Stanley slipped the jacket over his thin T-shirt. It hung a little loosely on his body, but Fiddleford could see a small smile spread across Stan’s mouth as the warmth of the jacket began to spread across his body.

“Weeell?” He asked, unable to hide his giddy grin

“It’s nice.” Stan said in a quiet voice. “Real nice.”

Fiddleford gave Stan a firm handshake and wished him well. He quickly made his way to his car to return to his work. What he didn't see as he pulled out and waved one more goodbye to Stan was the man desperately trying to hold back his tears at the first real gift he’s received in years.

#Gravity Falls #Gravity Falls Fic #Stanley Pines #Stan pines #fiddleford mcgucket #Fiddleford Hardon McGucket #Old Man McGucket #Fiddstan #Fiddlestan #Stanley Universe #Grunkle Stan #Stan isn't exactly his mullet age in this #but a little younger #Fidds really needs to force Ford to get out more #hope y'all enjoy

[ashwin-blythe]

O R I O N B O Y D

BASICS

Age: 43 Birthday: July 26, 1980 Gender & Pronouns: Genderfluid, any pronouns Sexuality: Pansexual Occupation: Nurse and Drag Queen District: University District Face Claim: Lee Pace

Full Bio under a Read More due to some adult themes, please be aware of any trigger warnings!

BIO: TW // Abuse?

Birchwood Boyd was born to a family of hippies, driving around California. Esther and Magnus Boyd liked nothing better than to go exploring, hiking, adventuring- and their old beat-up Volkswagen bus was what they lived off of for years. Their first child and only son was the light of their life, and they named him Birchwood Orion Boyd- though as he grew up, he vastly preferred 'Orion'. He was well-loved, accepted openly as whatever he ever wanted to be, and given the creative freedom to explore just like his parents. For the first few years of his life, it was just adventuring. They lived in Oregon, California, Arizona, Colorado, and Utah. Eventually when their family expanded, it was time to settle down in California. Sunshine Boyd was the second child and just as free-spirited. And then came Berryhill Boyd, the youngest sister. Orion found himself working at a surf shop on the California coast and enjoying life- he even was settling down with his high school sweetheart, Emma. But things turned a bit sour as he and Emma got more and more serious. She was very possessive, judgmental, and would shut him down quickly when he tried to contribute. Because she had a bigger and more lucrative career, she would often complain about his lack of funds and his own career aspirations. So Orion decided to go to nursing school. He was with Emma, even engaged, when his family staged an intervention. They could see how terrible she was being towards their family member- and the things he often talked about doing (going hiking and exploring again on the road, doing drag, even adopting a dog) were things Emma would say point blank would never happen. After she got incredibly possessive and paranoid one day, he spoke up about it. There was a physical altercation and that was when he left for good. After that he did what he'd always wanted and went off adventuring on his own in his car. Finally ending up back in Denver where he and his parents had briefly lived when he was young. Now Orion is a nurse for a pediatrician and a full-fledged drag queen (part time!). When in drag she goes by Celeste, and since leaving Emma, his creative spirit has returned in full force. He's always been pan but can now experiment and experience, and has had a wonderful time hiking, dancing, and taking care of kids at the private practice.

Headcanons:

-Orion has a cocker spaniel named Calliope (Callie for short) who he rescued immediately after he broke it off with Emma. Callie went on all his adventures with him and now she's around 6 years old.

-Orion LOVES his family- his sisters and parents are his world and he will openly talk about them to anyone who will listen.

-He actively hikes and camps when he has time off of work and will regularly encourage others to come.

-Orion would give you the shirt off his back- he's a huge softie and loves ghost hunting shows, HGTV, cooking, anything with animals, and learning new things. -He gets a LOT more confident when Orion is 'Celeste'. Sometimes far more flirtatious and open, able to stand up for herself as well.

#chq;intro

[radioactive-reactions]

This isn't the point of this blog, but since you've talked a bit about your own characters before I started wondering if you had any non-player characters existing in the Fallout universe?

For example, I have an original Atom Cat that has nothing to do with the story of the fourth game as a whole. 😅

I do! Longtime readers will remember Hermes (pictured in my icon), Aanya, and Saoirse, my player character stand-ins for Fallout: New Vegas, Fallout 4 and Fallout 76 respectively.

I do, however, have a sizeable cast of more peripheral characters as well, most of whom were either created or repurposed for the Fallout: Oregon server.

My favorites of these are Goldfinch and Pine, psyker "twins" sharing one consciousness, The Hammerhead, a hulking raider boss commanding her own aquatic army, and Leo Kramer, a member of an unbelievably corrupt hypercapitalist cabal.

None of them were developed to be the star of anyone else's story, but they provide fun bits of flavor nonetheless. Thank you for the question! I greatly enjoy the opportunity to talk about my own original characters.

#ocs #hermes #aanya #saoirse #fallout oregon #meta #fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout 4 #fo4 #fnv

[larrydempsey]

“But I’m Feeling Much Better Now, Conclusion”

After I graduated from high school, Tom taught me how to drive.  Unlike every other teenager in the universe, I had no interest in getting behind the wheel of a car when I was going to school.  I wanted my uncle (my mom’s brother) to teach me how, since he was a part-time driving instructor, but Tom said there was no way anyone else was going to teach me.     Using Tom’s two-door, silver stick-shift Honda hatchback (which later became my car), I learned to drive in industrial parks, empty parking lots, and on dirt roads outside of town.  It wasn’t fun – either the driving or having to spend more time with Tom – but at least I made it through him trying to teach me something without crying, like I did when I was younger.  That’s progress.     The main reason Tom wanted to teach me how to drive was so I would be able to drive to work.  I strongly suspected he wanted me to get a job and move away from home as soon as possible so he wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore.

I went out looking for jobs where I thought I could make use of my creative skills, places like newspapers, print shops, photo studios, and videographers.  I took examples of my artwork with me to show them what I could do.  But it was pointless.  While they considered me “good,” I wasn’t good enough.  It didn’t help that I didn’t have any real experience or a college degree.  It was naive of me to think I could get a decent job right out of high school.  They took my résumé (such as it was), but I never heard back from any of them.

Since I couldn’t find a “real” job, Tom put me to work on two projects he had going on around town (not that I had a choice).  The first was helping out on the new house that he was having built for his parents, who were moving up from Oregon so they could live near us.  Some of my duties included tidying up the worksite, like sweeping inside the house and picking up stray nails and boards outside.  I also spent days spreading multiple coats of tar sealant on the exterior of the concrete foundation with a paint roller at the end of a long stick.     One afternoon, on the drive home from picking me up, Tom asked me how I liked working on the house.  I don’t remember what I said specifically, only that it wasn’t too enthusiastic.  Tom got angry and confused, wondering why I wasn't thrilled with my new job.  He said, “You don’t seem too excited.”  I thought to myself, “Excited?  I spend all day working with stuff that smells worse than shit.  If I got any more excited, I’d fall into a coma.”     After that, Tom got me a job working at the first Super 1 grocery store when it was being built, since he was the architect for it and had an “in” with the owner.  At the time I was hired, the store was still an enormous concrete shell, big and (mostly) empty, with random metal shelving, refrigeration equipment, and mountains of cardboard, clear plastic, and styrofoam packing material scattered everywhere.  It felt like a huge, dark airplane hanger.  I was assigned to crawl around on my hands and knees on a concrete floor all day wearing hard plastic knee pads and dragging a shop vac behind me, cleaning and vacuuming inside the bases of hundreds of shelving units.  Just like working on Tom’s parent's house, this job was hot as hell as well, with sweat dripping off my face as I breathed in dust from drywall and fought back nausea.  I’m convinced Tom intentionally found me the crappiest jobs he could find just to torture me.

I remember the last place Tom, my mom, my sister, and I went together as a family (well, the four of us together, that is).  We went to the Silverwood theme park, which had just opened for the first time a couple months earlier.  I had no interest in seeing it, but Tom wanted to, as it was the big new thing in town at the time.     Right before we left home, Tom and I got into a huge argument (over something about which I have no idea, but knowing me, I probably didn’t want to go – or go anywhere with him).  I think Mom and my sister were already in the car in the garage, waiting for the two of us to come out.  I wanted to tell Mom about the argument when I got in the car, but I couldn’t since she was one of “the parents.”  But I felt things shift that day.  It was the first time I saw Mom separately from Tom.  They were no longer one unit; this formidable force of the two of them ganged up on me.  Instead, I saw Tom as my adversary and Mom as someone with whom I would soon be able to confide.     There was hardly anything at Silverwood in its early days.  There was the train (which people could use to ride around the perimeter of the park) and a few rides and shops.  I remember riding on the train, sitting in my seat (comfortably far from Tom, naturally), not enjoying it or paying attention to where I was or what was going on.  Mom asked what was wrong, but I didn’t want to say anything, at least not at that point, so I kept it to myself.  All I could do was sit there and think about that big argument I had with Tom and how I could possibly endure living with him for much longer.  Tom and I were seriously becoming enemies.

Tom went out with some friends late one night.  He came home around 2:30 in the morning.  Mom and Tom immediately got into an argument over why he was coming home so late, where he was, and who he was with.  During the argument, he burst into my bedroom and demanded to know what was going on and why Mom was so worked up.  Piss off, buddy.  You’re not getting any help from me.  Mom later found out that Tom had been out dancing with a woman he’d recently met, a woman with whom he’d been spending a lot of time and getting a little too closely acquainted (FORESHADOWING!).     Things quickly started to deteriorate after that.  The tension was constant, and arguments erupted almost every day.  The end was near and inevitable.

After a brief and explosive argument between Tom and Mom one night, Mom threw a large calculator at him (the only thing within arm’s reach), and Tom made a mad dash for the back door.  The sight of him jumping in the car and screeching out of the garage, like the coward he was, is still one of my favorite memories (too bad about the calculator, though; it never quite worked the same after that).  Tom returned not long after, but not for very long.     Near the end of summer and two days before my mom’s birthday, Tom left us for good.  My mom, my sister, and I were watching TV in the living room.  Tom was sitting at the table in the dining room, working on who knows what.  Without warning, he quietly got up from the table, walked out to the garage, got in the car, and left.  We heard him leave, but we didn’t think anything of it at the time – at least not until he didn't come home that night.     When Tom eventually came back a few days later to pick up some clothes and a few other things to bring to the hotel at which he’d been staying, he told my mom that when he heard us laughing at the TV, he felt like he “didn't belong.”  Apparently, the sound of the three of us enjoying whatever show we were watching was the final straw that convinced him we were no longer a family (if we ever really were one).  Tom filed for divorce shortly after.

When the news was going around that my parents were going to get a divorce, my mom’s longtime best friend (who she’d known since first grade) called Tom and invited him to go fishing with her and her husband.  Read that again if you need to.  I’ll wait.

Not long after my parents separated, Mom went to visit Tom while he was working on his parents’ new house.  She asked him if there was any way he would consider coming back and working things out.  Tom turned her down.  To this, Mom replied, “It’s a good thing you said that, or the kids would have left.”  It’s not that she actually wanted him back, but she thought she’d ask, just to see what his response would be.  Tom added that his reason for not wanting to get back together was that he and Mom “didn’t click.”

With Tom gone, we needed money coming in.  Any potential child support was a long way off (but only for my sister since I’d turned 18 earlier that spring).  So after abandoning my delusions of finding a job doing something I liked or was good at, I took whatever I could get.     Mom and I found temporary employment at a computer keyboard plant doing mind-numbing assembly line work.  That lasted for about a month.  After that was over, Mom landed the first in a long line of jobs in retail, while my career path quickly led me to the first of an endless string of janitor jobs.  Everything I was capable of doing, all my “gifts” and “talents,” were useless.  The only jobs I could get were cleaning toilets.

Whenever Tom came over to the house to discuss the divorce, at some point he’d get pissed off and storm out.  Every time.  He’d get up, stomp across the living room, and then dart out the front door, slamming the door behind him.  Every meeting ended the same way, except for one night.  On that night, I jumped up and made it to the door before he did.  As he reached for the doorknob, I grabbed him by the front of his coat with both hands and threw him down into the nearest chair.  He was scared out of his mind, which I could tell from the look of horror on his face, his eyes bulging and his bottom lip trembling.  That was the first time I ever stood up to him.  He never tried storming out again.      Tom later accused my mom of turning my sister and me against him.  Sorry, dude.  She didn’t have to turn us against you.  We never liked you in the first place.  We were glad you left.  Sure, we would be worse off financially, but we would be far better off without you around.      During the divorce trial, Tom was on the stand, and Mom’s lawyer asked Tom when my birthday was.  It seems like a simple enough question, right?  A father should know his children’s birthdays.  After hemming and hawing, obviously having trouble remembering when I was born, he finally said a date – but it was the wrong one.     We had to move out of our second house after the divorce.  We were forced to sell it so Tom could get his half of the money.  We sold all but a quarter acre of our land, took our half of the money, and built a new house on it (that was our third house, for those keeping track).

Not long into Tom’s second marriage (married to the woman with whom he was out dancing before he divorced my mom), my sister and I received a long letter from his new wife, going on and on about how great a man he was, how downhearted he felt about his children ignoring him, and demanding that we treat him better.  Sorry.  No sympathy here.  He treated us like crap, and he’s the victim?  I thought, “Give it time.  You’ll find out what he's really like.”

Tom bought me a computer drawing program one Christmas, probably trying to impress his new wife by pretending he was a good father.  I told him I already had that program.  Three months later, he mailed me the receipt so I could take it back.  The receipt was my birthday present.

Tom came into our new house once, and only once.  I was home alone one afternoon.  Mom must have been at work.  I don’t know where my sister was – either at work or school, probably.  The doorbell rang, and I answered the door.  I couldn’t believe who I saw standing on the other side of it.  I should have just slammed the door, but, being the polite guy (and wimp) that I am, I let him in.  He wanted me to sign a birthday card for his father.  Trying to choke back fake tears, Tom said he thought his father wasn’t going to be around much longer (which was a complete exaggeration; his father was fine; he lived for many more years).  He asked me if I could also draw a little something, too, so I did a ballpoint pen drawing of Superman on the left-hand side of the inside of the card.  I’m assuming his birthday card request was just an excuse to see the inside of our new house.

Tom wanted to pay to send both my sister and me to college, even after the divorce.  Sounds good, right?  Who would turn that down?  Me, for one.  Accepting his offer meant him buying his way into my life again.  First, it would mean he thought he could see me or talk to me whenever he wanted to.  Second, he would hold it over me.  If and when I ever made something of myself, he’d want to take credit for my success since he was the one who paid for my education.  Sorry.  Not interested.  We finally got rid of that asshole.  I didn’t want him back in our lives.  My sister accepted his offer, though, and went to college on his dime a few years later, after she moved to Seattle.     Mom encouraged both of us to take Tom for as much as we could.  While I can see that point of view and I can see why my sister did it, I couldn't do the same.  In my opinion, the bad outweighed the good.  And yes, because my sister accepted Tom’s money, she had to talk to him on the phone and visit with him in person whenever he wanted.

Tom’s second marriage lasted about ten years.  But shockingly, its demise wasn’t due to anything Tom had done (well, not entirely).  It turns out his new wife and her son had been stealing money from his parents.  Pity.  I thought she was the one.

About a year or so after Tom’s second divorce, Mom and I went out to eat at Pizza Hut one night.  Tom came in with a young girl (no older than her 20s or 30s, compared to him in his late 50s).  When I went up to the salad bar, Tom got up and came over to talk to me.  I told him I had recently done some published comic book work (me, having recently had some success in the artistic field and something to brag about).  He said he wanted a copy.  I agreed to give him one, just so I could get away from him.  Later, as Mom and I were leaving, I stopped at the table where Tom was sitting on the same side of the booth as the girl.  I told him, “You’re getting them younger all the time, aren’t you?”  He smiled and laughed, assuming I had said something funny, not realizing what I’d actually said.  But once he finally achieved comprehension, his eyebrows dropped, and his smile quickly faded.  Next, I asked, “How do you live with yourself?”  I walked away from the table and headed toward the door.  When I reached the door, I turned around, and there he was, standing right behind me, looking super pissed.  I got right in his face and said, “Sit the fuck down.”  I turned around and walked out the door without looking back.  That was the second time I ever stood up to him and the first time I ever cussed at him.  It felt great.     The next time I saw Tom was at my grandmother’s funeral (my mom’s mother’s).  He was all chummy-chummy with me, either forgetting what had happened at Pizza Hut or pretending it didn’t happen.  My other grandmother (Tom’s mother) was also there.  She came up to me, sobbing, wondering why I never visited them, even though we live in the same town.  The reason I never visited is because I hated her and her husband almost as much as I hated Tom.  Besides not liking them personally, why would I want anything to do with the two people who spawned the devil, who was my father?  I told her I’d visit, completely lying through my teeth.     The last time I saw Tom was across a grocery store parking lot late one evening.  He was with his fifth wife (you read that right: fifth).  He kept waving at me, trying to get me to come over to talk to him.  I kept ignoring him, pretending I didn’t see or hear him.  He eventually gave up and entered the store.

I still remember where I was when I heard that Tom had died.  I was picking Mom up from work, and she told me the news after she got in the car (she heard the news from her brother, who called her earlier in the day).  I couldn’t have been happier.  Giddy is too small a word.  My first thought was that I wanted to know where he was going to be buried so I could go pee on his grave.  We found out later that it’s in another state, so I haven’t gone there yet.  But I look forward to it.

Tom, along with my bullies and my teachers, seriously screwed me up.  If it weren't for them, I wouldn’t be enjoying the anxiety, depression, obesity, OCD, PTSD, low self-esteem, and poor self-image issues from which I suffer every day.  Who knows how much happier I could have been and how much further I could have gotten in life if they had simply left me alone?  Regardless, I’m working really hard to like myself now, to enjoy my own company, and to not put myself down so much in an effort to undo some of the damage they did to me.  It's not easy.  And it’s been a long,8slow process.  But I’m trying.  Wish me luck.

Copyright © 2023 Larry Dempsey.  All rights reserved.

Commentary for "But I’m Feeling Much Better Now"

[virginlomo]

Tapedeck multimedia

Tapedeck multimedia for mac os x#

Show off your collection in 3D, see what your friends and favorite artists are listening to, and swap tapes all without ever leaving the app or seeing a hashcode. You're never more than a single mouse click (or keystroke).

Tapedeck multimedia for mac os x#

Make sure to follow us on social media to keep up with updates and events. By SuperMegaUltraGroovy TapeDeck is a new audio recorder exclusively for Mac OS X 10.5, designed with a quick-capture workflow in mind. Pop those tapes into our virtual Tapedeck with the shake of your phone, hear (and feel!) the click, listen as the system whirrs to life, and watch the VU meters dance with the beat as you relive a memory. BIG shoutout to the wonderful women of Alpha Chi Omega at Oregon State University for being a part of our test launch Putting the final touches on the app and getting ready to share with everyone soon. Users can replay them (with old-school mixing effects), share them with friends, and trade them. Tapes, The items that started it all (and gave us our name) are Tapes: digitalized recordings of live shows. Unlike most other companies leveraging smart contract technology, TapeDeck doesn’t require any technical expertise on either side but still provides all the benefits of NFTs for both artists and fans.įind and swap mixtapes just like our parents used to-by showing up and getting to know people in the scene. TapeDeck is a digital tip jar, a virtual concession stand, a music sharing platform, a community gathering place, and so much more. We recognize that if anyone deserves to make money on the new web, it’s creators and the fans who support them.Ģ: You don’t need a crypto background to use TapeDeck power on, pause, stop, plus, and minus symbols, Button Media player Icon, Play the. By building a platform around live events, we’re ensuring that our communities are built strong from the ground up by artists and followers. Buttons, Stop, Play, Pause, Record, Audio, Tape, Deck, Control, png. Music is an organic community centered around joy, creativity, and shared experience.

#Tapedeck multimedia

[exxdrostudies]

I met with my advisor this morning and scheduled four classes! I work 40 hours a week as a service manager at my job so 4 classes may be excessive BUT we’re going to do our best. I think I’m going for an earth sciences minor— however I’m still considering microbiology. I wonder if I can do both? But I’m an online campus student at Southern Oregon University and I will be taking:

Biology 1

Chemistry 1

Intro to Wildland Ecology

Environmental Geology

What’re your best study tips? Best retention tips? Anyone working full time too? Other Rangeland Science folks or similar?

#rangeland science #agricultural sciences #oregon state university #biology #chemistry #student #online campus #elearning #ecology #geology #the guild #chipotle

[alltooreid]

Gold Rush

Y/N has been loving Spencer Reid from afar for years, but is held back by the feeling they will never be good enough, special enough, pretty enough, to be with someone as incredible as Spencer. Little do they know, Spencer’s been feeling the exact same way.

A/N: hey babes!! i wrote this cute lil mutual pining one shot for @meganskane ‘s writing challenge for her 700 celebration :)) (for those of u familar with the song source material, please be aware i changed the themes and ideas of gold rush slightly in order to make it more fluffy instead of ending in angst and sadness. sorry not sorry hehe)

Prompt: ”Quit looking at me like that”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

Type: fluff (slight angst)

Word Count: 2.2k

Content Warnings: one swear word, general feelings of negative self worth (happy ending!!)

“I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you”

Spencer Reid and his stupid perfect face were simultaneously the best and worst part of your job.

Often you found it difficult to focus, as you were busy admiring his impeccable cheekbones and gorgeous eyes and his hair, hair that looked so soft you wanted to run your fingers through. Hair that was somehow perfectly imperfect, falling into place like a line of tilted dominoes. Hair that you couldn’t help but fantasize about twirling between your fingers as you laid next to him on a sleepy Sunday afternoon, salty air from the coast blowing in from an open window, nowhere to go except closer to each other, until your lips finally met . . .

“Y/N!” Reid shouts, “You okay? It seems like you zoned out for a couple of minutes.”

“Oh, yeah sorry. I’m fine!” you paused, maybe now was your chance to confess everything you had been feeling since the day you had met him. “Do you, maybe wanna go get lunch or something? I feel like we haven’t talked in a while.”

“Oh you know what, I actually already told JJ I would get lunch with her  . . . but you should come with me! We can get a group going, the more the merrier right?”

You held back a sigh. You were pretty sure Spencer had a thing for JJ, and why wouldn’t he? Spencer seemed so perfect, so he could have his pick of whoever he wanted. And why should he choose you?

Maybe it was for the best that you didn’t attempt to pursue it. What good could come from chasing after your silly school girl fantasy. You had pondered a relationship with Spencer so much it was basically a fairy tale at this point, complete and utter folklore, and you were starting to have to constantly remind yourself you truly have no chance with a guy like him.

***

Maybe it was for the best he didn’t attempt to pursue you, Spencer thought.

Logically, there was no such thing as a perfect person, Spencer knew this. Sure the Fibonacci sequence linked to typical human attraction on a primitive level, and plenty of people had dozens of good qualities, but everyone had flaws, perfection was not real.

Yet you seemed so perfect.

Although he was infatuated with you, Spencer pondered what it could be like to truly love you, to know all of your imperfections and see you as incredible all the same. But you were so captivating he felt that everyone else must be thinking the same, and what kind of chance would someone like him have?

So maybe it was for the best that you didn’t want to go to lunch with him and JJ, because he knew that pursuing you blindly, knowing full well it wouldn’t work out, would crush him.

Spencer considered you a very close friend, and he didn’t want to ruin what you already had by an unrequited love confession, so it was for the best if he just accepted your love could never be.

But the universe seemed to have other ideas.

The next case the BAU received took them to Cannon Beach, Oregon, a tiny town right on the coast of the pacific ocean. With a population of under two thousand people the crime was solved quicker than most, and the team was ready to leave in the morning.

Yet somehow you were finding it too difficult to go to bed and instead found yourself sitting on the beach at one in the morning, just waiting for the sun to rise. A hand on your shoulder startled you, pulling you from your thoughts, when you turned around to see who had come to the shore to join you, you were met with the one person you didn’t want to see.

Spencer Reid.

“Are you okay out here? It’s getting late.”

You sighed, unsure how to answer that question. You were fine, at least in the way that Spencer assumed you weren’t, but your head was whirling. You wished you had the courage to confess to him the rush of emotions that overwhelmed you every time you looked at his stupid, dumb, perfect, beautiful face. You wished you were brave enough to attempt to explain why you always felt so jealous whenever the people you guys came in contact with on cases flirted with him. You wished you were bold enough to brush his hair from his face and kiss him right then and there, to finally admit you were sitting on the beach imagining a life with him in a town similar to this one.

But you just couldn’t, something in your chest stopped you. So instead of risking ruining what you had, (a friendship you loved, but would always slightly resent for not being pure, requited adoration) for the chance of a relationship with the man you had fantasized about for years, you just blurted out the first thing you could think of to divert his attention.

“Quit looking at me like that, I’m fine” you said, slightly taken aback by the seemingly pure, genuine concern he seemed to be exhibiting at that moment.

“I’m worried about you, you’ve been acting strange for a couple days now. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, I’m fine. It’s just the case I guess,” you lied.

He sighed before sitting down right next to you, “You’ve been behaving oddly even before the case Y/N. Why won’t you talk to me? Did I do something wrong? I promise if I offended you I didn’t mean to, we can talk it out.”

“No Spencer, you did nothing wrong. You’re . . . perfect. I promise if something was wrong I would talk to you about it. I’ll come to you first.”

He smiled, hesitated, and then wrapped his arm around you. “Okay, thanks for talking to me. Maybe I’m just overreacting. I just. . .  I want you to be happy Y/N.”

Your checks were suddenly a shade of rosy pink, you had been imagining moments like these for months, you and Spencer huddled together, having a deep, meaningful conversation on a beach, it seemed like something out of a fairy tale, some complete work of fiction. You had to once again remind yourself that Spencer didn’t want you like that. You had to remember that your “romance” was just a daydream, a fantasy you had been carefully crafting for so long it felt almost like a possibility.

Spencer Reid did not love you.

Spencer Reid would never love you.

***

Except he did. Spencer Reid’s brain was occupied with the idea of getting to love you, to be awarded even the chance at the privilege. He was slower to recite facts now, preoccupied with sneaking glances at you on the jet without anyone noticing and making fun of him. He was down to only two books a day, and now spent free time wondering how your relationship would change if it developed past being purely platonic.

Yet just as you did, Spencer felt the need to reel it in as well. He knew he wasn’t the only one who was romantically interested in you, he saw the way cops on the cases you traveled for would whisper about you when you were just out of earshot. He was aware that he likely didn’t have a chance.

But he truly cared about you so much, and the two of you were still great friends, and that’s how he found himself confessing a little more than he originally intended on that beach in the early hours of the morning.

“I truly care about you so much, and . . . I feel like I can tell you anything. I want . . .” he stopped himself, scared he was about to go too far, “I want you to know that.”

“I care about you too Spencer,” you replied. “You can always talk to me. I want to be here for you.”

“You’re amazing Y/N. You’re truly one of the greatest people I’ve ever known, even though sometimes I feel like I barely know you at all.”

You wanted to inquire further, but you didn’t get the chance. Spencer took that moment to stand up and leave the beach. You thought about going after him, demanding to know what he meant by saying that, but it almost felt like something was stopping you.

In fact you didn’t see Spencer again until the jet ride later that day, although at first you sat next to him, the air around you was tense. You seemed to have nothing to say to each other. So after 20 minutes you got up, went to the bathroom and when you came back chose to sit with Emily instead.

Still, you snuck glances at Spencer and at one point made direct eye contact (before immediately looking away, only to peek up again a second later to see him still looking at you). The vibe between you and Spencer now was completely different from the experience on the beach together, even if it was just hours prior.

Maybe you were overthinking things again.

Yet, something felt different now. Something was telling you that you needed to address this.

You were the last to leave the jet, pretending to be gathering your things and incapable of finding the book you had brought with you. Emily tried to help you look for it but you told her not to worry about it, leaving you alone with your thoughts for a moment.

You tried to take this time to compose yourself, to think about what you wanted to say to Spencer when you inevitably saw him again tomorrow, but your brainstorm was cut short once again by the subject of your thoughts.

“What are you doing Y/N? You didn’t even bring a book on the plane.”

“Spencer you scared me, and I- um. . . I must be thinking about something else.” Maybe now was the time to say something, anything to him about what you were feeling. “Um, actually I wanted to talk to you. Did I- um Did I say something wrong this morning?”

“No, why would you ask that?”

“You just left without saying anything else. You didn’t even give me the chance to say anything in response. I can’t figure out why.” “I- I said some things this morning that I wasn’t planning on saying.”

“What does that mean Spencer? Did you not mean them? I was doing fine, you didn’t have to lie to me to make me feel better.”

“I didn’t lie, I meant everything I said to you. . . It’s just that I never intended to tell you some of those things, and once I did I didn’t think I was ready to see how you would react.”

“I- I don’t understand. Why weren’t you ready? What did you think was going to happen?”

He sighed, it was now or never. “Y/N I love you, as a friend of course but for a while now I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to be in love with you. When I said those things this morning I wasn’t saying them as your friend, it felt like I had moved past that territory. I was saying them as someone who loves you, someone who is in love with you. I was scared you would catch that and be appalled by it, and I knew I couldn’t handle that. But now I realize that I don’t think I can live another minute without you knowing just how golden I think you are.”

“Spencer I- I’ve been in love with you for what feels like forever now, I just always thought you would never feel that way.”

“How could I not?” He said, seemingly dumbfounded. “You’re incredible.”

You smiled, your heart felt like it was flying. Maybe Spencer was too good for you. Maybe you didn’t deserve someone who everyone else wanted. Maybe you didn’t want to have to worry about being good enough for him, being deserving of him.

But maybe it was time to stop giving a shit, because maybe none of that was true and maybe the fairy tales you had weaved of you and Spencer’s possible romance together weren’t so fictional after all.

Fuck it, you thought to yourself, before you pulled Spencer to you.

“You know,” you spoke in a hushed voice, your intimacy so special you wanted to keep it as close to the two of you for just a while longer, even if no one else was around, “I would love to hold your hand right now, but a little bird-y told me it’s actually quite disgusting. Any ideas for something a little. . . safer?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I think I have something in mind,” he responded, connecting your lips together.

You were tired of almost kisses and double takes and overthinking his compliments. Now you didn’t dare dream of Spencer Reid.

Why would you when you had the real thing right next to you?

“Gleaming, Twinkling Eyes like sinking ships On waters so inviting I almost jump in”

super awesome cool people taglist:  @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup @spenxerslut @averyhotchner @widow-cevans @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reidyoulikeabook @ssa-m-187 @willowrose99 @shemarmooresfedora​ @spencerreidat3am @drspencerreidd​ @meganskane​ @mercy-burning​ @reid-me-a-story​ @wifenumberfour​ @drayshadow​ @nomajdetective​ @spencerspuppy​ @moderatelydelusional​ @uwu-queen-420​ @cynbx​

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[materialsscienceandengineering]

Ever wonder how tiny creatures can so easily slice, puncture, or sting? New research reveals that ants, worms, spiders, and other tiny creatures have a built-in set of tools that would be the envy of any carpenter or surgeon.

A recent study, published in the Nature journal Scientific Reports, shows for the first time how individual atoms of zinc are arranged to maximize cutting efficiency and maintain the sharpness of these exquisitely constructed tiny animal tools. A collaboration between a research team at the University of Oregon and the U.S. Department of Energy's (DOE's) Pacific Northwest National Laboratory (PNNL) revealed nature's solution to enable tiny creatures to cut and puncture with relative ease.

When the ant bites

Consider the ant tooth. Yes, ants have teeth, as anyone who has ever stepped on an ant mound can attest. These specialized structures, technically called "mandibular teeth" because they are attached outside of their mouths, are made of a network of material that tightly binds individual atoms of zinc. The total effect is a mandible that packs more than 8 percent of the tooth weight with zinc.

Read more.

#Materials Science #Science #Insects #Ants #Biomaterials #Zinc #Atom probe tomography #Materials Characterization #Strength of materials

[orangeoctopi7]

Buzzfeed Unsolved: The Suspicious Crash of Stanley Pines

The theme for @stanuary week 3 is Crime... what about... TRUE CRIME? I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved this last summer, so I’ve been wanting to do something like this.

If you don’t watch Buzzfeed Unsolved, this is probably gonna seem like a lot of rambling.

On the morning of July Fourth, 1982 in the sleepy logging town of Gravity Falls, Oregon, there was a firey explosion that wasn't part of the fireworks and festivities. A car had gone over the edge of the town's famed floating cliffs.

"Floating cliffs?" Shane asked

"They're like, giant overhangs. They're not just floating up in the middle of the air like Pandora or something." Ryan explained, showing Shane a photo on his phone.

"Oh, that's pretty."

"It is really pretty."

"What a beautiful place for a car to careen over a cliff."

Ryan cracked up.

"You get a lovely view as you plummet to your death." Shane imagined.

Between 6:15 and 6:20 PM, the Gravity Falls Police Department received six separate calls reporting seeing a yellow car in flames drive off the edge of the cliff and crash to the valley below.

When investigators arrived on the scene, they found the remains of a crushed and burnt 1971 Subaru DL Coupe. The police report notes finding that the brakes were cut, and evidence of gasoline being poured into the driver’s seat to start the fire. Strangest of all, no body was found in or around the crash, only a few burnt strands of hair.

“So, right off the bat, real suspicious.” Shane commented.

“Yeah, and it only gets more suspicious from here.” Ryan assured his co-host.

“And I’m assuming there’s no chance that they guy, y’know, got up and walked away from the crash?” 

“Oh, no, no way. You saw the picture of the cliffs.”

“Oh yeah, no way.”

“There’s no way anyone in the car would have survived that fall.”

“And it was on fire.”

“And it was on fire.”

Despite the lack of a body, the police determined from the few burnt strands of hair and an anonymous tip they received at 6:15 PM on the day of the crash, the driver of the car was one Stanley Pines, a 31 year old man from Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Allegedly, he had been coming to Gravity Falls, Oregon to visit his twin brother, Stanford, who lived just a ten minute drive from the cliff Stan’s car had driven off.

“Wait, wait, wait--” Shane interrupted Ryan’s explanation, “Twin brothers. Named Stanley and Stanford.”

“Yeah.”

“Who the f___ names their kids like that?”

“I know, right?”

“Were they identical twins?”

“Uh, I couldn’t find anything saying they were definitely genetically identical, but, uh, with the way this case goes, it’s safe to assume they were identical enough.”

“Yikes, I feel sorry for them growing up, can you imagine how often people got them mixed up?”

“Yeah, but imagine the kinds of shenanigans they must have gotten up to!”

“Oh, that’s true. There would have been plenty of shenanigans. Lots and lots of shenanigans.”

“If you had twins, would you give them cutesy twin names?” Ryan asked.

“No.” Shane answered firmly.

“I think I’d just do like, alliterative names. Nothing too similar.” 

“Yeah, no I think twins probably have to deal with enough confusion bull___ without having to throw similar names or the same initials into the mix.”

“Interestingly enough…” Ryan started.

“Yeah, I’m guessing from your comments that the twin thing plays into this.”

When interviewed by the police, Stanford claimed his brother never arrived at his house. However, testimonies of other townsfolk reported seeing a red 1967 El Diablo with a distinctive “STNLYMBL” vanity license plate driving up the road to Stanford’s house earlier that winter. The house is out in the woods, isolated from the rest of the town, so no one would drive up that way unless they were going to see the cabin.

“Well what if they just wanted to take a walk out in the woods?” Shane countered.

“It was in early February.” 

“Snowshoeing.”

“In a blizzard.”

“Ok, you do not have a weather report for the exact day they saw this car!”

“Two of the testimonies mention there was a snow storm that day. Plus, the license plate says STANLEY MOBILE.”

“Well, Stanley is a fairly common name.”

“You-you’re just being contrary to bug me now, aren’t you?” Ryan accused.

Shane just grinned.

What’s more, that same red El Diablo was the car Stanford now drove. 

“What!?” Shane laughed with disbelief for a moment before putting on a mocking tone. “Uh, yeah, he never showed up, but, uh, I have his car. I’m still driving it. Y’know, seemed like a waste to just let it sit in the driveway.”

“He didn’t even change the license plate.” Ryan added.

“Oh, of course not!” Shane said sarcastically. “Why go through all that trouble?”

Upon further inspection, the car that crashed was registered to Stanford, and had been reported totaled almost seven years prior.

“It’s interesting that they say it was totaled.” Ryan commented. “Because totalled just means that the damage is more expensive to fix than the car is worth, so it could have still been drivable.”

“And if you’re trying to fake a car crash, what better to use than an already worthless car?” Shane agreed. 

“Exactly.”

Stanley Pines was declared dead by auto accident and the case was closed in September of 1982, due to lack of evidence and quote: “A lack of interest from the involved parties”.

“A lack of interest from the involved parties!? What the h___ does that even mean?” Shane asked in bewilderment.

“It’s odd, to be sure.”

It’s when we look into the background of the presumed dead Stanley, and his brother Stanford, that this case becomes truly bizarre. 

Stanley Pines left home at the age of 17, and had brief but unsuccessful careers as an amature prize fighter and as a salesman, before he turned to a life of crime. Prior to his reported death, he had been in prison five times, in three different countries, and had lived under at least eight different assumed names, with several others that were never confirmed. He had known ties to the mob and drug cartels.

“Quite the shady character. That might explain why the police didn’t look too closely into his ‘death’.” Shane put air quotes around “death”.

“Well, does it? I mean, if they thought his death might have been related to the mob…” Ryan argued.

“They know better than to mess with the mob, even in Oregon.”

“I mean, we have seen in several past True Crime episodes, what can happen if you mess with the mob.”

“Oh yeah.”

“You don’t wanna do it.”

“Nope.”

His brother Stanford was no less strange. He was born with fully-functional polydactyly, meaning he had six fingers on each hand. It’s worth noting that after 1982, Stanford no longer had 6 fingers. He claims that he had them surgically removed, because, quote: “I was sick of people staring.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Shane said doubtfully.

“You don’t believe that explanation?”

“Let’s just say I find it highly suspect.”

Stanford was also a certified genius, graduating with the most PhDs Backupsmore University had ever awarded. As a graduate student, he worked as a researcher and inventor for the US Government. Some sources say he worked on top-secret experiments. 

In 1975, he received a $100,000 research grant, which he used to move to Gravity Falls and become a Paranormal Researcher. When he arrived in Gravity Falls, he was the subject of many rumors throughout the town, due to his reclusive nature and strange area of study. 

“Oh, so this guy was basically you.” Shane pointed out.

“He’s basically me if I didn’t have you.” Ryan agreed.

“Awww, that’s sweet!” Shane placed a hand over his heart.

Many residents reported seeing strange lights coming from Stanford’s home in the woods starting almost as soon as he moved in, as well as strange sounds.

“Well, it seems like Gravity Falls is a pretty small town. People gossip.” Shane reasoned.

“Ok, yeah, but people gossip about who’s cheating on who, or what business secretly sells drugs out the back. They don’t gossip about strange lights coming out of the new neighbor’s basement.”

“They could. It’s gossip. Gossip can be about anything.”

Reports of the lights stopped in late January of 1982. Just four months later, in March, Stanford began opening up his home for tours, and in a matter of weeks, transformed his home into a tourist stop called the “Murder Hut.”

“Oh my g__.” Shane stifled a laugh. “A little on the nose there, don’t you think?”

“He did rename it to the Mystery Shack about a year later.”

“Hmm, yeah I wonder why?” Shane asked facetiously. 

Stanford also exhibited paranoid behavior on several occasions before the crash, especially in the early months of 1982.

One local reported seeing Stanford screaming “No it isn’t, you creeps! I can see you just fine!” down an alleyway. Several other eyewitnesses reported seeing him fall out of his seat at the Triple Digits Truck Stop Diner on Route 14 and scream for something to “get out of his mind” before fleeing the building.

“So, he definitely seemed to think something was out to get him.” Ryan commented.

“Not the words of a sane man.”

“Unless something really was out to get him.”

“Eeeeh, even then…” Shane wiggled his hand in a so-so motion. 

Dan Corduroy, one of the few people who had regular contact with Stanford before he opened the Mystery Shack, had this to say about the sudden change from research lab to tourist trap:

“Oh, he’s definitely been acting differently. He was really shy before, hard to talk to even. He seemed uncomfortable spending a lot of time with people. I’d invite him over to one of my family’s cabins to visit, but he only ever wanted to visit the haunted one while we were all out of town. I’d say it was a good change, though. It wasn’t good for him to be alone all the time like that. I’m glad he’s finally spending time with other people.”

“He only wanted to visit our haunted cabin.” Shane repeated with disbelief. “Hey, do you wanna come over to visit one of our cabins?” He put on a voice. “Uh, that depends, what kind of cabins have you got?’ ‘Well there’s one by the lake, one with a nice view of the valley, and one that’s haunted.’ ‘Oh, I’ll take the haunted one!”

“What gets me is he only wanted to visit the haunted cabin while everyone else was out of town. We’ve stayed in our fair share of haunted places, and it was bad enough staying overnight, just me and you, but there is nothing that could convince me to spend the night in one of those places all by myself.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure none of the places we’ve been to have actually been haunted, but I see what you mean. It’s not fun to go to a haunted house by yourself. It’s kinda boring.”

“Um, we’re not gonna get into this discussion now, because we still haven’t even gotten to the theories yet, but you’re wrong.”

The case came to light again in August of 2012, when Federal agents arrested Stanford Pines, and detained him for several hours for questioning. By the next day, he had been released, and officials stated that his arrest had been due to a false lead. What exactly that false lead was, however, was never stated.

Now that we’ve gone over the extensive background of this case, let’s get into the theories of what really happened that 4th of July in 1982.

Theory #1: The theory put forth by the police, that Stanley Pines died in a fiery car accident.

“So then how do they explain what happened to the body?” Shane asked.

“It doesn’t say.” Ryan.

“And why were the breaks cut?”

“No explanation given.”

“That’s a stupid theory, those cops ought to be fired.”

Ryan stifled a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

Theory #2: That Stanley killed his brother, made it look like his own death, and took over his brother’s life. This would explain the loss of his extra fingers, the sudden change in behavior that led him to open up the Mystery Shack, and his sudden acquisition of Stanley’s car. It does not, however, explain the lack of a body in the crash.

“He could have disposed of his brother’s body somewhere else, and then just like, left an ice block on the gas pedal and let the car run itself off the cliff.” Shane theorized.

“That’s possible. I was also thinking, maybe the body was gone. Maybe Stanley didn’t necessarily kill Stanford, maybe they met up in the woods, Stanford got eaten by a bear, and Stanley, who was already in trouble with the mob, took advantage of the situation, and faked his own death.”

“How--why did you work your fear of bears into this?” 

“That’s just my variation on this theory.”

“Then why all the secrecy? Why not say that he was the one who got eaten by the bear? Why fake the car crash and then say his brother never showed up?”

“Because if the mob knew he’d talked to his brother before he died, maybe they’d come question him?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a possibility.”

Theory #3: That Stanford killed Stanley and made it look like an accident. People who support this theory say the psychological trauma and guilt of killing his own brother may have driven Stanford to change his appearance and behavior to more closely resemble that of his dead brother.

“That’s… kind of a stretch.” Shane said slowly. “I feel like, Occam's Razor, theory 2 is more plausible.”

“What makes you say that one’s more plausible?”

“I dunno, just saying ‘He killed his brother and took his place’ seems a lot more likely than ‘The other brother killed him and the guilt drove him to act like his brother. I don’t think that’s how psychology works.”

Theory #4: Both brothers are still alive. Stanley, on the run from the mob, came to his brother Stanford for help. Meanwhile, Stanford was worried about someone or something that was out to get him. They came to a solution that would solve both their problems: switching places. They would fake Stanley’s death, throwing the mob off of Stanley’s trail. Then, Stanley would take Stanford’s place in the public eye, while Stanford went into hiding.

This theory is supported by photos that surfaced on Facebook in 2012. Several photos of Gravity Falls after a series of earthquakes did extensive damage to the town show what is supposed to be Stanford. However, another man that looks just like him is seen standing in the background. Interestingly enough, both mens’ hands are obscured in all of these photos. 

While the photos haven’t been analysed by any professionals to definitively determine if either of the men are Stanley Pines, it has been determined that the photos are not edited.

“Would the whole photo recognition software even work on identical twins?” Ryan wondered.

“I don’t think so?” Shane answered unsurely. “I mean, my Facebook facial recognition auto-tag doesn’t even recognize my mom half the time, so I wouldn’t be surprised if twins throw it off.”

“Just looking at some of these photos yourself, what do you think?” Ryan handed a few print-outs from his folder to Shane.

“Oh wow, yeah, they do look alike.” Shane nodded. “Alright, yeah, I’m convinced. We solved it, guys! Video over!”

“We actually do have one more theory.” Ryan informed him.

Theory #5: Stanford was abducted by aliens.

“Oh for f___’s sake--” Shane threw his hands up in frustration. “We have four perfectly good, plausible explanations, and you have to throw that in!”

“This one actually does have some evidence behind it.”

“Bull____, but go on.”

Stanford was a professional paranormal researcher. Although he was very secretive about his research, even to his grant committee, some of his research notes do list looking for proof of ancient aliens visiting the valley before European contact. Could it be the thing he was afraid of was aliens?

“... That’s it?” Shane asked. “When you said this one actually had some evidence behind it, I thought you meant there was a UFO sighting in the same area around the same time.”

“The negative space between the floating cliffs kinda looks like a UFO” Ryan pointed out.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean a random researcher in the 80’s was abducted by aliens! That’s like, if I found a ransom note for you in the office, but I said ‘Well, Ryan was afraid of bears. Bears used to live in California, there’s one on the state flag outside our building. He must have been eaten by a bear.’ That’s the kind of leap in logic we’re talking about!”

Was this a case of fratricide? Or is this the longest and most elaborate twin switch of all time? For now, this case remains… UNSOLVED.

 * * *

“It was really hard for me to stay on topic while I was researching this one.” Ryan admitted as they wrapped things up. “There is a lot of weird stuff related to Gravity Falls, we should go there for an episode one of these days.”

“I’d love to do that, it looks like a beautiful place to visit.” Shane agreed. “Are you sure you wanna do that though? It seems like the place is crawling with haunted cabins and bears.”

“Well, one could argue this entire series is about me conquering my fears, so… Why not?”

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Buzzfeed Unsolved #Stanuary 2021 #Stanley pines #My Writing

[maximumjinx]

Steven Universe Gravity Falls AU

~Yknow what they say, if you run out of content, ya gotta make it yourself. This is a ? shot (I might continue or not who knows not me) please don’t ask for more I have 18 unfinished fanfics on this site.~

California was nice, Steven had to admit. The people were nice, the food was fantastic, and the weather was splendid. It reminded him a lot of Beach City. Though there were just so many people, and traveling north, Steven was beginning to long for something small and simple again.

Oregon was the perfect place for that, right?

“Ronaldo wants pictures of Bigfoot, and if anyone can find him, its you Steven.” Petey’s voice was faint on Steven’s phone speaker, tossed into the passenger seat as Steven blindly picked a highway exit.

“Sure Petey, but couldn’t Ronaldo just go to a circus?”

“Not big feet Steven,” Petey emphasized, “Bigfoot.”

“Saying it twice isn’t helping buddy.” Steven was half paying attention. He was focusing on the winding roads and the looming trees surrounding him. Deep, in the pit of Steven’s stomach, he felt something start to tug him toward one direction farther away from the highway. He wasn’t quite sure if it was a good or bad feeling yet.

“Forget it, I’m going to take a blurry photo of that mean Gem in the woods and say its Bigfoot.”

“Just don’t let Jasper catch you, she’s no joke when she’s angry.”

“I saw her ripping grass out of the ground I think I’ll be fine. Later dude.”

Steven heard a small click and smiled to himself. He’s happy to see how far the people of Beach City have come and how they’ve taken to the gems. He remembers when the Crystal Gems were once the outcasts of town that locals warned you to stay away from.

He looked up to see a welcome sign.

“Gravity falls. Well, that’s a funny name.”

—

Steven wanted small and simple but he feels he may have overshot it.

This small town had exactly three attractions. A town museum that mentioned marrying woodpeckers (Steven couldn’t figure out if that was a normal human thing, like taxes and velcro), a small diner, and as one local described it ‘some tourist trap’ deep in the woods. It was a sticky summer day and the former two attractions didn’t have airconditioning. Steven gambled on the last stop in hopes of stretching his legs and maybe finding a source to the strange feeling in his gut. It had become much stronger since he entered this small town. Alluring, but nothing related to Gems as far as Steven could tell.

He parked in the nearly empty lot and stepped out. Jacket wrapped loosely around his hips, Steven made his way inside.

A girl that looked about 13 was petting a pig on the front porch. She was incredibly reflective, and depsite the heat wore a knitted bedazzled sweater that made her glow like a disco ball in the sun.

She looked Steven up and down as he approached, a wide smile taking up her face and Steven saw bright braces with colored bands.

“Hi!” She launched upwards, startling the pig away, “I’m Mabel, but you can call me anytime.” The girl winked and stuck out her hand, palm facing the floor.

Steven blinked.

“Mabel, stop scaring away the customers!” A gruff voice yelled through the screen door, and soon an older man stepped out in a suit, wearing a fez and eyepatch.

Immediately the old man squinted at Steven, sizing him up.

Stanley Pines knew this teen wasn’t local, but he wasn’t sure if he had any money. For all he knew he was another boy trying to hit on his giftshop cashier, Wendy.

Oh well, a customer is a customer.

“Come in, come in, and see our mystical and magical wonders!”

“Magical?” This could be it, Steven could figure out why this town has felt off. Maybe it was gem related after all.

Quickly this older man who had introduced himself as Mr. Mystery gave Steven a tour of what looked like failed taxidermy projects. Now Steven may have a lived a sheltered childhood, but he felt pretty confident there was no such thing as a Sashcrotch. And so far, nothing had felt magical or mysterious.

“That concludes our tour! Here is our mistifying giftshop and it’s purchasable wonders!”

“Right...” Well, at the very least he was able to spend some time in airconditioning.

There was a girl behind the desk in plaid that looked about Steven’s age, and just a half inch shorter than him. She looked bored, flipping through a magazine as a young boy that looked a lot like Mabel made googly eyes as he swept by the door.

Steven guessed there was no harm in asking around.

“Hi, I’m Steven.” He smiled easily, walking up to the register.

“No refunds, even if an exhibit bit you.” She sighed, peeking up before turning back to her magazine.

“Oh no, nothing bit me, I just wanted to know something.”

She looked up to get a better look at Steven and gave a small smirk.

“Sure, but only because I like your shirt. Mr. Universe merch, now that’s a deep cut.”

Unbeknownst to Steven, Dipper Pines would had been watching the exchange felt a twinge of uneasiness as this out of towner talked with Wendy.

“Have you ever seen anything strange or weird actually happen in this town?”

Wendy’s smile dropped.

“Why do you ask?” Her eyes flickered to Dipper, just for a moment, and that was all he needed to rush over.

“Excuse me sir, please buy something or exit the store.” Dipper spoke in the deepest voice he could muster.

Steven looked over with a questioning expression.

“Oh sure uh-“ He blindly reached for the wad of bills that his dad had given to him before he left. Steven pulled out a hundred dollar bill and put it on the counter. Wendy looked up baffled as Steven stuffed the other cash back in his wallet.

“Boy was I wrong about you kid!” Mr. Mystery, seemingly materializing out of nowhere, now bounded over. He had loosened his tie and lost the eyepatch which turned out he never needed.

“Whaddya wanna know? I’ll tell you everything. There’s gnomes in the woods you know-“

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper protested loudly, dragging his Stan away and harshly whispering at him.

“Did you steal that money?” Wendy asked as Steven watched the pair whisper fight in the corner. He turned back to the girl and gave a sheepish smile.

“Uh no, my dad gave it to me before this roadtrip. He’s actually Mr. Universe.”

Wendy lit up.

“No freaking way! Your dad is Mr. Universe? I only got into him since he managed Sadie Killer and the Suspects and they always perform covers of his songs on tour, I can’t believe he’s your dad!” She rambled, stars in her eyes. Steven beamed, he loved when people praised his dad’s music. Greg really deserved it.

Steven learned Wendy’s name and they swapped stories back and forth, only interrupted as the girl from outside slowly rose from the behind the counter beaming.

“A cute musician that loves weird stuff, take me now.” She swooned. Steven blushed profusely, not used to the attention.

“Sorry, my girlfriend Connie probably wouldn’t like that very much.” He said gently. Mabel looked him up and down and pouted.

“I can wait, but not forever.” She warned, and winked, bounding to break apart her grunkle and Dipper, who are now whisper screaming with arms flailing.

“I wasn’t going to mention that Dorito shaped jerk! Just the normal stuff!”

“It’s dangerous! He could be a spy, or government, or another stack of gnomes!”

Steven raised an eyebrow and looked at Wendy. She chuckled and shrugged. Steven carefully approached them.

“He can hear everything you’re saying anyways so might as well tell him!” Mabel interrupted, nodding towards Steven as he came up.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m definitely not government.” Steven technically didn’t exist at all. He never had a social security card and didn’t have a birth certificate.

Dipper only glared. Rich strangers with an interest in the paranormal didn’t come through gravity falls without some kind of agenda.

Steven hated the conflict he was starting. No information was worth this family fighting.

“Okay,” he surrendered, hands up, “I’ll just go. I’ll stick around town until tomorrow if you change your minds”

“Wait Steven-”

“Let him go Wendy,” Dipper glared as the boy in pink walked out, “We can’t trust him.”

“But I was going to ask for Sadie tickets...” Wendy groaned, defeated.

“There’s something weird about him.”

“Great!” Mabel beamed, “He’ll fit right in.”

~.~

Steven wasn’t crazy about sleeping in his car, but was seriously considering it after seeing the state of his motel room. It looked like it hadn’t been used in decades, a thin line of dust covering every surface. He was also pretty sure they didn’t even have free ice. 

“Wish Pearl were here..” He mumbled, exhausted. He curled up on top of the covers, fully clothed, and let sleep take him.

Being Steven Universe however, meant rest was sure to allude the half alien. 

Steven found himself in a dark space, fog all around him. Before a word could come out of his mouth he heard a fast, repetitive muttering. 

“Stranger...Wendy looked pretty today..Can’t trust...Tell no one...Ford isn’t here..”

“What, the-” Steven quietly walked toward the source of dialogue, and saw the faded silhouette of the boy from the Mystery Shack. His back was turned to him, but Steven recognized the blue vest and mosquito bitten legs. 

“I thought I was over the dream hopping.” Steven spoke a tad too loudly, starting the young boy - Dipper.

“What-” Dipper’s eyes grew wide in panic, and the boy fell back harshly.

“No, no, you can’t be in my head!” 

“Wait, I’m not-” Steven tried to reassure him, stepping carefully towards the boy but Dipper let out a screech of terror, sweat gathering around his temples.

“Bill sent you didn’t he?! He’s not really gone- he’s going to hurt Mable again-” Dipper began to hyperventilate. 

“Dipper please,” Steven took a step back, arms in the air in surrender. 

“I-”

“I’m not going to hurt you I swear on the gems.” He placed a hand over his heart. “This is a total invasion of privacy but it’s something that happens when someone’s emotions are out of control-”

“How are you here?” Dipper demanded, scrambling to his feet. “Tell me what you are and what you want.”

“I’m just passing through!” Steven insisted, then lowered his tone to calm the younger boy. “I’m kinda of magnet for weird stuff. I just wanted to help in case anything was going on.”

“We deal with things just fine around here.” Dipper spat, then watched as Steven deflated. He seemed tired, like he hasn't slept well in a while. 

“So what are you anyways? How can you be here?”

Steven winced, and laughed nervously. “It’s kind of a long story..”

Dipper raised and eyebrow and swept his arm around the void dramatically. 

“You have until dawn.”

~

“I thought that was a conspiracy theory, it wasn’t even covered by major news outlets.” Dipper look exhausted, cross legged on the unseen floor as he ran his hands through his hair. 

“I think Garnet is pretty persuasive when it comes to government and reporters. They all kinda fall in love with her.”

“She’s the one that’s really two aliens?” 

Steven shook his head with a small smile. “It’s hard to explain but yes, I guess that comes close.”

“That’s actually insane. I’m insane, aren’t I?” Dipper stood up, leaving Steven on sitting next to an empty space. “It’s been too quiet around here and now I’m so desperate for weird, that I’m making it all up in my head.”

“I get that feeling.” Steven smiled without humor, “but no, this is real. I’ll prove it when you wake up.” Steven felt a shift, the fog in the void getting denser. 

“Sooner than I thought, you’re an early riser huh?”

Dipper looked back at Steven, panicked. “You’ll come to the Shack again right? In just a bit?”

Steven smiled. “Promise.”

~

Dipper woke up to his sister braiding his hair. Mabel still had her pjs on, and a make up kit next to the bed. Dipper frowned, tasting strawberry shortcake. 

“Stop testing party looks on me, Mabel.”

“Stop having my face structure and maybe I will.” She grinned, covered in blue glitter. 

Dipper quickly washed up and got dressed for the day, feeling like he was anxiously waiting for something but not quite remembering what. 

He felt like he had a strange dream last night...

He quickly remembered, choking on cereal as Steven walked into the shack right as it opened. Hair slightly frizzy from the heat and eyes strangely tired. Maybe dream hopping took energy that he anticipated. 

“Steven!”

“Meal ticket!” 

“Grunkle Stan.” Mabel chastised as Dipper rushed over to the older boy. 

“Good morning everyone.” 

Dipper stopped short, slightly hoping that everything he experienced wasn’t just his imagination. That everything exciting and weird and interesting wasn’t always trying to kill him, ruin his life, or steal his candy. 

Steven looked tired, like he had been doing this much longer than Dipper, but he had still come out with enough energy to smile. 

“Not insane?” Dipper asked hopefully, quietly. Steven snapped his attention from his Grunkle and Mable bickering down to the Dipper. He gave a reassuring smile, eyes quite serious. 

“Not insane.”

#I feel like I made up a strange tension but please don't ship them THEYRE FOUND FAMILY #Steven universe #gravity falls #universe falls #??? #what's the tag? #dipper pines #Mabel pines #grunkle stan #stan pines #bill cipher #this is something or maybe nothing idk people need to give me plot ideas #probably no plot just one shot series

[lisantha-miscellanea]

{Dead Poets Society} A Different River (Concept)

CW: Mentions of Suicide Attempt (Non-Graphic)

James Wilson's life goes through a second major change. Life functions as a river, and James knows he isn't swimming in the same one anymore.

James Wilson attempted suicide in his junior year of high school. He attended a prestigious boarding school in Vermont. (Can't decide if his father stops him or he barely misses).

His father forces him to transfer to a nearby military school. He is unable to reconnect with anybody pre-attempt. Phone calls are supervised, mail is checked etc. Essentially on 24/7 watch when not in class.

James goes to the University of Pennsylvania for pre-med. He somehow doesn't encounter anyone from before. Then again, what could he expect - his parents literally moved to the closest town (his father also sees him constantly).

When he graduates undergrad, he somehow convinces his father to let him study medicine at the University of Sydney. Something something prestigious medical school's international program would look wonderful on a resume. Anyway...

While there he meets Matt Wilson, a surfer boy working as a waiter. Sarcastic yet caring, James falls head over heals. Over a few years as dating, he accepts Matt's proposal and they marry. As a fuck you to dear old dad, he starts going by his middle name (his maternal grandfather's name, James). He also takes Matt's last name.

Matt makes the past seem just that - the past. As tragic and sorrowful as it turned into, the present has beauty he wishes to focus on. Matt becomes a primary example of this. Their personalities mesh well - Matt, the outspoken feisty baddy and James, the determined optimistic goody erudite. James doesn't think about his boarding school days much anymore.

On the day of his medical school graduation, Dr. James Wilson embraced his husband for the sappiest kiss ever. Afterwards he stopped speaking to his parents. He didn't show up to his father's funeral. He refuses to speak to his mother.

Matt gets diagnosed with cancer. James gets thrown onto a roller coaster ride. Matt beats cancer... only for it to come back... and take him to see his maker. James becomes distraught (justified because his husband dies).

While planning his next move, he stumbles across an old diary - the one he kept in his teenage years. His past goes to the forefront of his mind. He wonders how he got here - if he likes the path his life went on.

In an impulsive move, he becomes an actor (mid-life crisis sort of thing). In fulfilling a childhood dream, he decides to fulfill another; living on the West Coast. He decides to move back to the statees; to Oregon. He always heard that Portland had its own urban beauty.

On his third week in the city, he stumbles across a cute little indie bookstore/cafe (because I'm a sucker for those and I want to visit one). He starts to become a regular. Over time, he gets told by the staff and other regulars he should meet this guy that comes in once every blue moon. Not only is he also a single widower, he's also quite attractive. James says "omg yes of course" but has no intention of following through.

A year or so passes... and here comes the fateful day. James exits the bookstore with his latest purchases, when a man crashes into him. Like full-on, James gets knocked to the floor turning into Velma. He's not pleased. Pissed, James just gathers his things and walks off. He ignores the stranger... until.

"Neil!" James Wilson only turned half-way when a scraggly looking man gripped his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. He could feel the man's throat upon his shoulder. He could barely recognize the voice, though a sense of deja vu shot through his body. He did notice blonde hair... and a shocked tall man behind them covering his mouth. Then it clicked. Pulling back he slowly scanned the man's face. Even with a sloppy beard, overgrown hair style, and gravelly twang he knew him. James could only whisper back:

"Todd."

I usually put this stuff at the beginning... but my dramatic ass wanted a reveal. then again you could probably spot this from a mile away thanks labeling convention

1989!AU: The main story takes place in 1989 instead of 1959. This story takes place in the 2000s (so Neil's like 35 ish?). House M.D. crossover: Probably would interweave elements of House M.D. near the end. House M.D. in Portland seems like a concept doesn't it?

A/N: Title and synopsis come from Heraclitus's quote, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man. Inspired by user Beautiful_Boy on Ao3. Their fics, short and simple, have such an interesting running concept: Neil survives yet never interacts with the poets again. Not Knox. Not Meeks. Not Todd. Not even Charlie. The past remains just that - the past. At times, Neil even wonders if he actually experienced any of it.... I'll probably make another AU in which everything up until the bookstore happens. It diverges there for the angst, sweetie. 💅 We love AUs of AUs here.

(ooooo speaking of potential angst: Pitts is the tall man covering his mouth. I'm still deciding if Meeks dies in the Gulf War or not..... anywayssss)

Also inspired by James P. Wilson by @ameliterature. I haven't seen House M.D. in full (only a couple clips where House sasses patients). I really enjoy this fic, so you should read it. I'm not big-brained or creative enough to make a Neil Perry/James Wilson character fusion work (again Ms. Ame flawlessly doing it proves you should read it). The irony that RSL's breakout role had no desire to pursue medicine... only for his more modern success coming from portraying a doctor.

Also inspired by a fic in which Todd reminisces about Neil with his new lover. I'll try finding it again it was really sweet. Finally, about Matt Wilson: He's not an OC. He's from an Australian soap opera called "Home and Away." From the clips I've found - he's got a sarcastic streak, a love of surfing, and a softer side. Bonus points: the writing staff (apparently) considered him "the sex icon" character - the hottest guy in the cast. Now, I haven't seen this show in full (the clips I've found go no more than three minutes). For Home and Away fans... sorry for taking your man. I literally looked up blonde people with the last name of Wilson (like a good amount of this romance is Neil subconsciously-and when drunk, consciously-yearning for both Charlie (platonically) and Todd (romantically). From the five minute google search, it seems James Wilson wants someone like House? Matt's being written only a couple notches down from that. I don't like including OCs since I fear making them Mary Sue-like. So I just swipe characters from other properties to fill the roles. That'll be a recurring thing moving forward.

"Remorse is memory awake, Her companies astir, — A presence of departed acts At window and at door.

It's past set down before the soul, And lighted with a match, Perusal to facilitate Of its condensed despatch.

Remorse is cureless, — the disease Not even God can heal; For 't is his institution, — The complement of hell."

- Remorse, Emily Dickinson

EDIT 1: Changed a few names to make the obvious twist hit harder. Added a couple things I thought completes this post. tfw you specifically read over the post several time to ensure not slip ups ONLY TO HAVE SLIP UPS my god.

#dead poets society #dps headcanons #dps fanfiction #dps #neil perry #gerard pitts #todd anderson #james wilson #dps au #alternate universe #dead poets headcanons #dead poets fanfic #dead poets

[impalas-r-important]

Branch Out - Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N left everything she's ever known, and Dean just wants to be left alone. With both of them trying to heal from heartache, they might just end up finding what they need in the last place they'd ever look.

Word count: 6219

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventually, maybe?)

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter, but if you think i should add one, feel free to let me know!

A/N: I started this series a long time ago and just barely had the motivation to start it up again. I really love this series, and have been enjoying writing it. Let me know if you want a tag!

My Masterlist

Branch Out Masterlist

Thank heavens for GPS, there’s no way you would have found this place without step-by-step directions. A narrow gravel driveway branched off from the worn mountain road and wound to a homely cabin. You stepped out of your old pickup truck and pulled out the key the realtor had given to you. Buying a house sight unseen wasn’t the smartest idea and you second guessed your impulse decision as you took in the dense woods that were so foreign to you. The seasoned wooden boards of the porch creaked under your feet while you made your way to the door and let yourself into your new home. Dust rested gently on every ledge and the frigid January air was lined with a twinge of must from sitting unoccupied for so long, but something felt so promising about the sturdy structure.

A modest kitchen and living room made up most of the house with a bedroom and bathroom on either side of a small hallway. A small, metal woodburning fireplace sat just next to the backdoor and you had a feeling you would end up putting that to good use if you ever figured out how to use it.

Your hand was subconsciously touching the bruise that was prominent on your forearm and when you realized, you pulled your sleeve down to cover it. The decision to leave your family and friends behind was a heart-wrenching one, but you knew you had to make a change if you wanted to heal completely. You needed to do something for yourself, and you wanted a fresh start. A small cabin in the freezing cold woods of Idaho was about as far from what you knew to be normal as you could have gotten, but a seed of hope was planted firmly in your chest.

When a job posting for the assistant city accountant had fallen in your lap a few weeks back, you applied without thinking twice. A few online interviews later, you had secured the job and things fell into place effortlessly, as if some external force was paving your path to this small town. You bought this quaint home with the help of a local realtor, packed your things, and left the only home you had ever known in Arizona, despite the protests of your family. Not knowing what your future held was scary, but something about this place felt right from the moment you pulled in.

You had brought only what you needed to in hopes of making a quick escape, meaning you had only a mattress, some clothes and a few personal belongings. After working for a few years, you had a built up a good savings account and figured it would be easier to buy furniture once you got here instead of trying to move big pieces by yourself. It didn’t take long to move your things inside, and you felt grateful that you called ahead to have the power and water turned on so you could shower once you had unpacked what you needed for your first day on the job tomorrow. Anxiety sat like a rock in your stomach, so you skipped dinner and went straight to bed, burying yourself under a mountain of blankets to shield you from the winter chill that had settled in your bones.

Your nerves woke you up well before your alarm went off, so you dragged your feet across the frozen floor and pulled your clothes on quickly before digging through your boxes for some granola bars for breakfast. You leaned against the kitchen counter and began to make a list of things you would need to buy since you were essentially starting from scratch. Double checking the email that you had received with instructions for your first day, you took a deep breath and headed out.

City hall was a historic, two-story red brick building that was shared with the fire department. It looked like something out of a storybook, but then again, this whole town did. You pushed the door open and looked around at the empty lobby, checking your watch to make sure you weren’t crazy early. Rustic chairs lined the walls by the door, and a few empty desks were placed behind the tall front counter.

“Hello?” You asked, turning your head left and right to look for any signs of life.

“Oh!” A muffled voice responded, and distant footsteps quickly scuttled your way from the back room. “You’re here!” A pretty, dark haired girl gave a few excited claps as she made her way to you. “You must be Y/N. I’m Sarah. Sarah Blake.” She eagerly pulled you into a hug which caught you by surprise and she chuckled a bit to herself before taking a step back. “Sorry, my boyfriend says that my enthusiasm scares new people away. I’ve just been so excited since I heard they hired you. I’ve been praying for someone my age to come work around here for a long time.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re the first person I’ve met in town so it’s nice to see a friendly face.” Her warm welcome calmed some of your nerves.

“That’s right, you just moved in yesterday, huh?” You tiled your head in question, wondering how she knew that. “It’s a really small town, everyone knows everything, especially when it comes to new people. You’ve been the talk of the town the past little bit.” She shrugged. “Well, I’m the marketing/PR girl here, and we all just kind of pitch in with working the front desk. Come on back, let me give you the grand tour.”

Sarah led you around the corner and stopped at the first office on your left. “This is Ellen Singer’s office. You’ll be working under her, she’s the lead accountant.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “Hmm, she should be here by now. I bet her car is giving her trouble.”

A friendly voice called out to Sarah from down the hall and she motioned for you to follow her as she stepped just inside the end office which was significantly bigger than the rest.

“Y/N, this is Garth Fitzgerald, he’s the mayor. Garth, this is Y/N.” Sarah introduced you and he stood to shake your hand.

“It’s great to meet you, Mayor Fitzgerald.”

“Please, call me Garth.” You smiled and nodded. “We’ve been excited about you around here. I think you’ll make a great addition to our community.” His phone ringing broke the conversation. “Excuse me, ladies. Oh, and welcome to Wallace, Y/N!”

“Next up is Arthur Ketch, he’s the city planner. Sometimes he can be a little abrupt, but deep down he’s a big softie. Don’t let him scare you.”

He was on the phone, so he simply waved to you two as you passed. Sarah’s attention was drawn back down the hall when two police officers walked in. “Jody, Donna!” She hollered to them.

“Heya, kiddo! Who you got with you?” The blonde officer sent a warm smile your way.

“You must be Y/N!” The other responded.

“Oh, that’s right! I heard you were coming to town. I’m Donna and this is Sheriff Jody Mills. It’s so great to meet you.” She pulled you in for your second hug of the day.

“Everyone here is seriously so nice. I don’t know why I didn’t move here years ago!” You joked.

“Well listen, if you need anything, you can always come to me, okay?” Jody put her hand on your shoulder. “We’re all so excited to have a new face around.”

“Thank you. You’re all making this transition so much easier than I thought it would be.”

Sarah waved to the officers as they left and pulled gently on your arm. “Come on, let’s chat while we wait for Ellen.” She took a seat at one of the desks in the front and you sat across from her.

“Thanks for showing me around, it’s nice to know that I have a friend at work already.” Sarah’s eyes lit up when you called her your friend.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve been dying for you to get here. I knew we’d get along.” She folded her arms and sat back in her chair proudly. “So, where did you move from?”

“Phoenix, Arizona.”

“And you moved to Idaho in the middle of January? Are you crazy? I would give anything to go lay out in the sun for an afternoon.”

“Yeah, I might be!” You laughed. “I guess I just needed a change, you know? It was just time to move onto the next chapter of my life.”

“I get that. I grew up here and couldn’t wait to leave for college, but as soon as I was gone, I missed this place.”

“I can see what you’re talking about. It has a good feeling to it here.”

“So, now to the juicy stuff.” Sarah leaned forward. “Are you dating anyone? Because there’s a whole pool of eligible bachelors I could set you up with here.”

“No, actually I just got out of something kind of messy, so I don’t think I’m really looking for anything at the moment.”

A sympathetic look was sent you way. “I’m sorry to hear that. But if you ever feel ready, you let me know, okay?”

“You will be the first. What about you? I heard you mention you have a boyfriend. Tell me all about him.”

A smile spread across Sarah’s face and she pulled out her phone to show you a picture. “This is Sam, we’ve been together since high school.”

She handed you her phone and you looked at the tall, handsome guy whose arms were wrapped around her. “He’s cute, nice work!” She beamed as you handed her phone back. The expression on her face was clearly one of adoration as she looked at the picture.

“We actually broke up before we went to college. He went to Stanford and I went to the University of Oregon and we figured it would be easier to break it off on good terms rather than fade away in a long-distance relationship. That lasted about two weeks and we’ve been together ever since.”

“Do you think you’ll marry him? You guys are so stinking cute together.” You weren’t sure if you had ever seen a better fitting couple.

“I overheard Sam talking to his older brother about buying a ring. I don’t think he knew that I was just in the other room, but I’ll let him try to surprise me.” Sarah giggled. Your conversation was interrupted by someone walking in the back door.

“Hey, Ellen.” Sarah greeted. “Your reinforcement has arrived.”

Ellen looked at you with relief in her eyes. “Oh, honey, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Come on back here and we’ll get started.”

“Have fun!” Sarah left you to meet your new boss as she went up to help someone at the front desk.

“Y/N, you’ll have to forgive me for being so late. My stupid car has been giving me hell the past few weeks. You’d think with my husband owning the only mechanic’s shop in town, I’d have a reliable vehicle, but here we are.”

“No worries. It gave me a chance to meet some people around the building. I’m excited to get started though.” You sat in the chair across from her desk and she plopped down with a sigh as well.

“I’ve been begging Garth for two years for some help, so you are a light at the end of my tunnel. I’m hoping to retire in a few years and hand you the reigns, so let’s get to it, shall we?”

The next few hours were spent introducing you to all of the systems and procedures. After receiving a call from her daughter, Ellen decided to call it a day just after three in the afternoon and the two of you agreed to hit it hard tomorrow. You gathered your things and returned to the front area where Sarah was scrolling through her phone. She looked up when you entered the room.

“Hey! How are things going?”

“Ellen has to take off, so we’re going to call it a day and just work a little longer tomorrow.” You sat at the desk adjoining Sarah’s and set your things down.

“Take any desk. It’s just you and me out here. Charlie is the county IT girl and works out here sometimes, but she hops from building to building.”

“Well, I suppose this one is as good as any.” You unpacked a picture frame and a few supplies at the desk across from Sarah’s. “Hey, are there any places to buy furniture around here? I only moved with the bare essentials so I’m in desperate need of a few things.”

“So, what you’re saying is you need to go on a shopping spree? I’m in! I’ll drive.” Sarah grabbed her purse and coat and led you out the door.

She took you on a short tour of the staples around town before arriving at the only big box store nearby. You browsed up and down the aisles, pulling all the necessities off the shelf and tossing them in the cart. You’d have to order some of the bigger furniture pieces online since it was a small place, and they didn’t have anything like here.

Sarah had a basket and was creating a good-sized stockpile of her own. “Sam has been trying to put me on a budget for a while now, so I’ll have to hide this stuff before he sees.” A guilty smile pulled on the corners of her mouth.

“Just tell him you were shopping with an accountant and I approved all your purchases.”

“Hah! We’re going to be good friends.” She picked up a candle, smelled it, and placed it in her basket.

“Where does Sam work?” You asked as you looked through the bathroom towels.

“He’s the lawyer for Winchester Lumber, the sawmill in town. A lot of people work there actually, it’s kind of the main business that brings people in. Sam’s great grandpa started it and it’s stayed in the family. Sam’s older brother, Dean, runs the place right now, but I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to hand the throne over to their Dad when he gets back. He got cancer a few years ago and they moved to Kansas to be closer to medical treatment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. How is he doing?”

“He’s doing really well, actually. He’s in remission and they’re hoping to move back soon.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent checking things off of your to-do list and grabbing dinner with Sarah. She dropped you off back at your truck and you thanked her for showing you around before you went your separate ways.

Back at home, it took you a few trips to unload your haul, but you were just happy to have a few more things to fill your empty home. Your first day had gone better than you could have imagined, and you were filled with confidence in your decision to uproot your life.

Sarah opened her front door and did her best to sneak her shopping bags past Sam and Dean who were sitting in the living room, sharing a pizza and some beers. She successfully stowed her treasures away in the hall closet and joined the boys.

“Hey hon!” She placed a kiss on Sam’s forehead before grabbing a slice of pizza and plopping down on the couch next to him.

“You’re in a good mood.” Sam noticed his girlfriend’s chipper energy.

“I made a new friend today.” She took a big bite and gave a smile.

“Don’t you already know everyone in town?” Dean’s voice sounded as pessimistic as usual.

“No, actually. There’s a new accountant at city hall, Y/N. She just moved in yesterday.”

“That’s great! You’ll have to invite her over sometime.” Sam placed his hand lovingly on Sarah’s knee. “Where’s she living?”

“She bought a cabin up in the mountains sight unseen, so we went shopping for some essentials. I think she might be kind of close to you, Dean.”

Dean frowned, trying to think of which cabin the new girl would have bought. He moved up there to be alone, so the thought of a neighbor was disheartening. “You mean that old shack just off of Placer Creek Road?”

“Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

“She’s got a lot of repair work to do on that place.” Dean shook his head, glad that it wasn’t him that put any kind of investment into what he was sure was a money pit.

You awoke early the next morning to find that it had snowed overnight. Growing up in Arizona, you had never really experienced snow like this before. Every breath you took felt like your lungs were filling with ice and you couldn’t help but cough, willing the warm weather to find you soon. Winter was one thing you didn’t think about when moving to a mountain town, so you wanted to give yourself plenty of time for the commute. After packing a few things for lunch, you stepped outside to find your truck buried in a mountain of frozen powder.

“Ugh!” You groaned and threw your head back, looking around for a stick to help you dig out your vehicle. You made a mental note to buy a scraper after work. Ten minutes and one soaked pair of shoes later, you had finally freed your car. You twisted the key, forcing the engine to sluggishly turned over, then blasted the heat on high while you ran inside to change into dry shoes and socks before taking off down the road.

The feeling of your back wheels slipping around on the frozen dirt road was so foreign to you, and you weren’t a fan. About two miles away from the main road, your engine began to sputter as it struggled to trudge ahead through the wet snow.

“Please don’t do this to me…” You steered towards the side of the road as much as you could while the truck wound down to a full stop. An annoyed sigh escaped from your lips. “Great.” You turned the car off and then back on, willing it to start up again, but the clicks of defeat that sounded from under the hood dashed your hopes.

You hadn’t had the time to buy a heavy winter coat yet, so you zipped up the light jacket that you had on and began walking. You didn’t want to make a bad impression on your second day of work by calling in sick, so you picked up your head and kept going. One of the points of starting your new journey was to be more self-reliant, and this definitely fell under that category. Ten minutes had passed, and your toes were so cold that you were sure they would snap off and rattle around in your shoes at any point now. The sound of an engine coming down the hill made you look over your shoulder to see a snowmobile barreling around the corner and straight towards you. You quickly side-stepped out of the way, but not enough to avoid the kickback of snow that was thrown into your face as the machine drove past.

“Seriously?!” You yelled as you shook the snow from your clothes. The snowmobile stopped and slowly backed up to meet you.

“What are you doing up here?” The man abruptly asked as he pulled off his helmet. If you weren’t so annoyed and cold, you might have thought he was attractive.

“Being buried alive by some maniac speeding down the mountain.” You retorted and brushed the snow from your hair with your fingers.

“I’m going to assume that’s your truck back there?”

“Lucky guess.” The wind-chill blew through your jacket and you crossed your arms. “I don’t think it likes the cold, and I don’t exactly blame it.”

His eyes assessed you. “Crappy shoes, thin jacket, and no gloves. I’m going to assume that makes you the clueless new girl.”

“What an ass...” You thought to yourself.

“I guess it does, Kowalski.”

“Kowalski? Really?”

You were surprised he got your reference to Clint Eastwood’s infamously crotchety main character.

“If you’ll excuse me, I gotta get to work.” You didn’t find much point in continuing on this conversation with such a smug jerk, so you continued on your path down the road and heard the snowmobile make a sharp u turn to climb back up the trail.

Ten more minutes later, you could see the main road just ahead of you had been plowed, and you were thankful that you wouldn’t have to be hiking through any more ankle-deep build-up. You could hear a vehicle slowly coming up behind you and you made sure to move as far over as you could to avoid being blasted with snow again. The truck slowed to a stop next to you and you looked over to see the same man from earlier rolling the passenger side window down.

“Get in, I’ll give you a ride.” His voice still sported an undertone of condescension and he rolled his eyes when a doubtful frown from you was sent towards him. “Just get in.”

Hundreds of episodes of Dateline should have taught you to not get in a car with some stranger, but you figured that even if he didn’t murder you, you’d end up dying of frostbite and decided to you’d rather die inside a warm truck. You opened the door and took off your damp jacket before getting inside.

The man’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel tight. You placed your hand by the heater on the dashboard in hopes of defrosting your fingers enough to feel them again.

“You shouldn’t drive a pickup in the winter.” His gaze stayed firmly glued on the road ahead.

“Uhm…” You dramatically looked around, “aren’t we in a pickup right now?”

“Yeah, a pickup with chains on the tires and a weighed down bed.”

“Well, I’m still pretty new at this whole snow thing…”

The man glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. “I couldn’t tell. You’re Y/N, aren’t you?”

“Should I be concerned that you know my name?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No, no,” he must have realized how creepy that came off, “I know Sarah. She’s dating my younger brother and she was telling us about you last night.”

“Oh, it all makes sense now. You’re the grumpy older brother. Dean, right?”

Another eyeroll made an appearance, but you could tell he wasn’t going to make any further comments.

“Well, I appreciate the ride. I’m sorry if I screwed up your morning routine.”

“It’s no big deal.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that Dean wasn’t a man of many words, and you were okay with that. You weren’t really one for small talk either. Dean’s eyes moved to your arm that was extended towards the vent blowing heat.

“That’s a gnarly bruise. How’d you manage that?”

You pulled your arm back quickly, hoping that your sudden move didn’t come across as suspicious. “Oh, you know, just being a clutz. They never tell you that moving by yourself is a dangerous game.” You chuckled casually while watching his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he glanced at the bruise one more time. No further remarks were made so you assumed he bought your story.

Dean pulled up in front of City Hall and stopped as close to the door as he could get. Before you could reach for the door handle, Dean instructed, “give me your keys.”

“What?” Your face twisted in confusion.

Yet another fed-up sigh escaped from his chest. “Bobby Singer down at the auto shop owes me a favor. I’ll get him to tow your truck down and take a look at it.”

“Oh.” you weren’t expecting such a generous gesture from such a grumpy guy. “I don’t want to put you out any more than I already have.”

“Hand it over.” The tone in his voice remained gruff, but the bluntness was slightly faded at this point. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your key ring, sliding the truck key off and placing it into Dean’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Dean’s eyes avoided yours and you took the hint that it was time to leave.

The wind blew flurries in the air, forcing you to quickly sprint to the door, meaning that you missed Dean watching you with curiosity. Sarah, who was observing from the front desk, didn’t miss his wondering stare. He quickly averted his eyes when he saw her spying and peeled away.

“Kowalski.” He muttered to himself with a half-entertained chuckle once he was a few blocks away. Dean would have never admitted it, but he quite enjoyed the witty nickname.

Sarah couldn’t stop the mischievous smirk that crept up on her face and leaned on the counter to greet you the second you stepped through the door.

“You look like you’ve had quite the morning.” She greeted.

“Yeah, something like that.” You hung your jacket up on the coat rack in the corner to dry and stomped the packed snow from the tread of your shoes.

“Am I going blind or did Dean Winchester give you a ride to work?” She quickly cornered you.

“Yeah. My truck broke down and then he tried to bury me in snow, so he gave me a ride.” Goosebumps covered your arms as you made your way to your desk. You had never been more grateful for heat.

Sarah crossed her arms and sat on your desk as you took your seat. “You know, people call him the Grinch because he moved way up the mountain to be all broody and alone.”

“I can’t say I don’t understand it. It’s kinda fitting.” You logged into your computer, but Sarah continued to press for details.

“Well did he say anything on the ride over or did he just glare at the road?”

“A little bit of both I guess. He told me I shouldn’t be driving a truck in the winter, but that’s about it.”

Ellen arrived and cut the chatter short. “Hey girls. You ready to get started, Y/N?”

“You bet.” You stood from your desk, but not before Sarah pointed an accusing finger at you.

“This conversation is not over!” She warned.

After lunch, Ellen had given you some expense reports to review and organize. It was tedious, but you didn’t mind the slow afternoon after a crazy morning. Sarah was helping you to punch holes in the stacks of papers and organize them into departments while the two of you chatted away. The snow had kept most people inside, so it was a slow day at the front desk. Just before it was time to call it a day, the bell of the front door dinged, and Sarah walked over to see who it was.

“Hey, Dean. You going over to Benny’s tonight?” She greeted.

“Not sure yet.”

Dean’s hands were shoved into his front pockets as he stared Sarah down, not wanting to give her any more room to speculate as to why he was here.

“Hi.” You smiled softly, trying your hardest ignore Sarah’s curious stare as you joined in the conversation.

He pulled a key from his pocket and set it down on the counter. “She’s all fixed up. Battery terminals were corroded so I cleaned them up a bit, but you’re going to need a new battery soon. That one doesn’t have much juice left in it.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that you worked at the auto shop.” You remembered Sarah saying something about Dean working at the sawmill.

“No, I used to. But I figured it would be an easy fix, so I took a look myself. I stuck some old grates in the bed for some weight. Take it into Bobby’s tomorrow after work and he’ll take care of the rest. He knows you’re coming.”

“Wow, I really owe you one. Thank you.” You slid the key from off the counter and fiddled with the metal ring.

“Don’t read into it.” Dean tapped his fist on the counter twice before swiftly leaving.

Sarah was biting her lip, and you slowly turned your head towards her. “Spit it out.” You gave permission for her onslaught of questions.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to fix your car for you!”

“He said he would have Bobby tow it back to the shop and take a look at it. I didn’t know he was going to fix it himself.”

“I’ve known Dean for a long time, he’s pretty much my older brother at this point, so I can see past all the grumpiness. He’s a really good guy, he’s just been dealt a hard hand the past few years that made him swear off people.”

That was a feeling you could easily relate to. “He really went out of his way to bail me out today, so he can’t be all that bad.”

“He’s all bark and no bite. Granted, it’s a big bark.” Sarah checked her watch. “Closing time! Hey, would you want to come back to my place after we clock out? Sam’s playing poker at a buddy’s house tonight so I figured maybe we could grab some take out and find some furniture for you online?”

“Yeah, that’d be great actually! It definitely beats the PB and J I would be making otherwise.”

After work, you ran home to change and Sarah stopped for some Chinese food, then the two of you met at her apartment.

Some crappy TV movie played in the background while mostly empty take-out containers littered the kitchen counter. You were sitting on the floor with your laptop on the coffee table, browsing through loveseats while Sarah lay on the couch behind you giving her input.

The door gently swung open and the man you assumed to be Sam walked through. Sarah stood up and stretched before giving her boyfriend a hug.

“How was the poker game?”

Sam tossed his keys on the counter and pulled off his jacket. “About the same as always. Benny won most of the games, Cas still has no clue what he’s doing, and I lost a little too much pride.”

“You’ll get them one of these days. Come on,” she tugged on his shirt sleeve, “I want you to meet Y/N.”

You stood when Sam and Sarah walked into the room. “Y/N, this is Sam.”

“Ah, the infamous Y/N, I’ve heard lots about you the past day or so. It’s nice to put a face with the name.” He shook your hand. “How are you settling in?”

“Honestly, the move has been a lot easier than I thought it would be. Everyone here has been super welcoming and helpful.”

“Including Dean.” Sarah gave a knowing look to her boyfriend, who was clearly confused.

“My brother, Dean?”

“The one and only. He gave Y/N a ride to work and fixed her truck up for her.”

Sam’s face read skeptical. “My brother, Dean?” He repeated.

“I found myself knee deep in snow and car problems this morning. I’m sure he helped me out of pity more than anything.” You tried to explain, not wanting to make a big deal of the situation.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow. I guess that’s why he was late to work today. Well, I hope he didn’t scare you off too much.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Not at all, he really helped me out. But I have to admit, I feel bad. He would barely acknowledge my thank yous. I don’t want to come across as ungrateful.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he heard you loud and clear, he’s just hasn’t been properly socialized yet.”

Sam finished off the rest of the Chinese and got to know you a little better while Sarah sat next to you on the floor, scrolling through furniture.

“Where’d you go to school, Y/N?” Sam stacked the empty red food containers together and set them aside as he pulled his feet up on the couch.

“University of Arizona. I didn’t originally plan on staying so close to home, but a full ride soccer scholarship is hard to turn down.”

“No way! That’s awesome.” Sam’s face lit up with an idea. “Oh! Every summer we do this obstacle course race thing here in town as part of the summer festival. Maybe you can be on our team this year?”

“That sounds super fun! Count me in.”

“Yes!”’ Sam made a fist in the air. “We’ve used to win every year, but we’ve come in second the past three times, so maybe you’ll be our secret weapon.”

Sarah joined the conversation once she’d had her fill of online shopping. “I was thinking, Y/N, I don’t know if you’re much of a baker, but if you wanted to say thank you to Dean, he’s a sucker for a good pie. I know he wouldn’t just brush that off.”

“It’s true. He’s a pie whore.” Sam nodded.

“Sam!” Sarah scolded.

“Noted,” you said through your laughs.

The clock in the corner of your laptop screen caught your eye and you realized how late it was getting. “I should probably start heading home before I hate myself tomorrow at work.”

“At least it’s not supposed to snow tonight.” Sarah teased.

“Wow, it’s going to be like that, huh?! It’s a learning curve, okay?” You stuck your tongue out as you gathered your things.

Sam stopped you after Sarah had said goodbye. “Hey, Y/N, I know Dean doesn’t make the greatest first impression, but do me a favor and don’t write him off just yet. He’s had a rough go the past little while and could always use another friend in his corner.”

“I won’t. I’m sure there’s a great guy buried under all that angst.” You gave a reassuring smile and Sam gave you a hug before you left.

The next day was Friday and between training and helping out with the front desk, the workday flew by. You needed to take your truck in to get the battery switched and Sarah had agreed to give you rides while you were without transportation. After work, you dropped off your truck at Bobby’s, and Sarah took you home. You were glad for a little time to yourself so you could clean up the house before the first delivery of furniture tomorrow morning.

On your lunch break earlier that day, you had gotten all the ingredients to make blueberry pie bars as a thank you for Dean. Time was in short supply, so you hoped these would be a suitable place holder in lieu of a regular pie. You quickly threw them together and loaded up a plate once they were cool enough. Baking had always been a stress reliever for you, and the way it filled your small cabin with warmth and sweet smells felt so cozy and charming.

Dean’s place was only a ten-minute walk from yours, so you bundled up and began your hike. You had finally gotten yourself a suitable coat and boots and couldn’t believe the difference they made as you crunched through the snow that was matted on the gravel road. His cabin was much newer than yours, and considerably nicer. A long staircase on the right side of the house led up to a wide porch. Smoke spilling from the chimney and lights beaming through the windows told you he was probably home, so you knocked on the door.

Clattering of locks being undone broke through the silence a few moments later and an expressionless Dean opened the door.

“Hi,” you began, “I just wanted to say thank you for helping me out so much the other day.” Dean stood silent and stone-faced, so you awkwardly continued. “I, uh, heard you were a big fan of pie, but I didn’t have enough time to make one from scratch, so I hope these will do.” You extended the plate of goodies and he looked at them doubtfully.

“Look,” a gravelly voice ended his vow of silence, “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’m not looking for any new friends or whatever this is.” He began to shut his door when you interjected.

“Listen, this is nothing more than a simple thank you for bailing me out when I really needed it. I’m not going to force you to eat them, but I’m also not going to take them home with me. Maybe just wait until I’m gone before you throw them away though.” You set the plate on a neatly stacked pile of firewood off to the side of the door. “Don’t read into it.” You echoed his parting words from yesterday and took your leave. A sneaky glance over your shoulder as you walked away revealed that Dean had picked up the plate and was looking at it with a half-impressed nod. You assumed that was as much of a reaction as you’d get from him and marked the trip to be successful.

Chapter 2

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean fic #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn fic #supernatural fanfic series

[iiwontgiveuponmilkk]

Prison World

Kai Parker x reader

*not my gif

A/n: Soulmate au. I got this idea from two fanfics I read. Currently unedited with a horrible summary :/

Summary: Y/n can’t control her magic and with her link to Kai it doesn’t take long for the Gemini coven to find her

Word count: 2259

Warnings: none?

*1994*

Y/n never quite understood the tattoo that magically appeared on her rib cage. Just under her breast was the Gemini symbol and the initials MP in oddly neat writing. It was the mark of her soulmate. The tiny marking made her oddly curious. It wasn’t unusual for supernatural beings to have a soulmate mark. In fact, only the supernatural beings got them, but they rarely showed up at the age she received hers. She was only fifteen when it burned itself into her skin. That night was also the first night she discovered that her magic was beyond her control. The loss of her grandmother nearly flooded Mystic Falls. Twice. So of course, it didn’t take long for the Gemini coven to find her in 1994. The coven had discovered Malachai’s mark before sending him to his personal prison world. All they had to do was wait for another cosmic event to send the twenty year old into the prison world as well. 

Arriving in the prison world felt like she had been sent to hell. Y/n was all alone, and incredibly confused. She searched for hours to find someone. She even went home, but no one was there. Y/n had no idea what was happening. Was she dead? Mystic Falls was completely empty. It was just her, all alone. Y/n was so confused and slowly starting to panic. She searched the house, trying to figure out what had happened. When she entered the kitchen, her attention was immediately drawn to the cup of coffee and the morning paper on the table. Her dad always read the paper before work in the morning. She picked up the paper. May 10th. This paper was over a week old. How could she be here? She began to read through the paper. There would be an eclipse today. She looked up at the clock. It was in exactly two hours. 

*1997*

Living in this world was, well, it was hell. Y/n had spent three years alone. At first, she spent her time trying to figure out why this place had been created, who it was for, and why she was here. She had two leads. One in Mystic Falls. Another in Portland. She spent a lot of time in Mystic Falls. Partially to investigate what happened at the Salvatore boarding house, and partially so she could be close to the only thing she had left. Her family home. But eventually she convinced herself to go to Portland. She was terrified of what, or rather who, she might find there. A part of her knew she would find him there the second she connected the dots. Parker family. Portland, Oregon. Massacre. Her mark.  This world had been created by the gemini coven for Joshua’s son. Malachai Parker, her soulmate. That’s why she was here. Her soulmate had killed four of his siblings. Her soulmate mark had gotten her into this hell. She was stuck here to make sure he could never access the real world.

 Y/n had packed her things and was off to Bell’s for snacks. Then it was off to Portland. She found herself racing across the country in a blue camaro, courtesy of a Bell’s customer who left the keys on the dash. She had a road map with her. She had carefully marked the easiest route from Mystic Falls to Portland. Yet she always found herself lost. Y/n kept missing her exits as her mind raced with what was going to happen to her. What would he do to her? He couldn’t kill her. Well, he could, but she would come back when the world reset. She was worried what he could do if he had magic. If he was stronger than her, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Her four day road trip ended up taking her twice as long. She couldn’t count the number of times she had gotten lost. When she finally arrived in Portland, she pulled into the first gas station she saw. There had to be a map of the town, or at least just the state. She dug through the maps until she found what she was looking for. She began setting up to do a locator spell. She was pulling candles out of her bag when she froze at the sound of the door opening and the bell above it jingling. She slowly stood up, turning to face Malachai. 

“Hi. I’m Kai. I’m a sociopath.” The man smirked at her.

____

When y/n woke up, she was terrified, but nothing was happening. Her magic was gone. She had no idea where she was. The room she was in looked like it belonged to a teenage boy. Y/n turned her attention to herself. Her hair was still wet, but she was in dry clothes. She panicked looking down at the shirt she was wearing. It wasn’t hers, and neither were the sweatpants she was wearing. Had that man changed her clothes? Why did he take her magic? And what did he want with her? Her head was spinning. She had to get out of here. She quietly shuffled to the window and opened it. She tried to pop the screen out, but she had been spelled in. Her heart felt like it was in her throat with how hard it was beating. She slowly made her way to the door, finding that it was unlocked. She was hoping that she hadn’t been spelled into the room, and luckily she hadn’t. But that meant she was spelled into the house, and she didn’t have her magic. She slowly moved through the house, trying her best not to make any noise. She was almost down the stairs when the next step loudly creaked. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard footsteps approaching. “G-get away.” She stuttered out. Y/n felt hopeless without her magic. Kai stopped in his tracks, looking at her. He almost found her state comical. He knew he wouldn’t have stopped if he hadn’t seen her soulmate mark. His initials. His handwriting. His “coven”. He put his hands up, sighing almost as if he was annoyed by her behaviour. Y/n stared at this man, her voice caught in her throat. Neither of them moved for what seemed like hours. Finally she spoke up. “Why did you take my magic?” Her voice was quiet and still seemed panicked. “Well, you see, I don’t have any magic of my own. And you seemed to be bursting with it so I thought I’d take some. I know, what an abomination.” He rolled his eyes, but then continued. “Your magic will be back before you know it. You’ll be all juiced up after you rest.” Kai seemed to be bored with her. “You know, I was going to keep you here as a little magic battery, but then i saw your little mark and I had to laugh.” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving her. Y/n felt like she was frozen in place. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. “The universe is so funny. Of course my soulmate would be someone who is overflowing with magic when I don’t have any of my own. And of course my coven would send you here. God, how dumb could they be.”

*2003*

Y/n had come to know Kai in ways that she didn’t think she could. She knew what he had done to his family. He was sent here to be punished for his crimes. She was sent here due to their soulmate mark and bond. She didn’t think she could grow to trust the monster she had met in 1997. She didn’t think she could ever think of him as anything but a monster, but here they were. Kai was making Christmas dinner with her sitting on the counter, and definitely in his way, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Over the past six years, y/n had learned of Kai’s past. How his family treated him for being a siphon, something out of his control. How he was seen and treated as an abomination. How he wasn’t allowed to touch anyone for his entire life. Her heart almost aches for him. A part of her could understand him, but another part, in the back of her head, clung to the fact he had done atrocious and unspeakable things. Yet she still found herself climbing into his bed when she couldn’t sleep, holding his hand when she was starting to lose control, and even almost kissing him on multiple occasions. “You know, I’m starving.” She spoke up, looking up from her book. The aroma in the kitchen was causing her to salivate. “Dinner will be done in thirty minutes. Please don’t get hangry. I’ll have to restart the whole meal if you bring this house down on us.” He joked, causing her to glare at him.

Y/n laughed at the sight before her. Kai asked if he could “borrow” some of her magic to do the dishes. She agreed, knowing it would at least be amusing to watch. And it was. It was also an absolute mess. Kai had dropped multiple dishes, shattering them. Only uttering a small “oops” each time before trying to concentrate on his task. He loved hearing her laugh, and as much as he hated to admit it, he loved being around her. He wasn’t sure why his coven had sent her here, he knew it wasn’t for him. They probably thought locking her away was the only way to make sure he never got out. He stopped wondering why she was here two years ago. That was the first time that he opened up to her. He had chosen to basically ignore her for a long time, but she almost brought a house down on them with an earthquake, crying that she felt so alone and just wished she was dead. He tried to blame the mark for how he felt about her after he started to grow close to her, but he knew that wasn’t true. Some people live their entire lives without finding their soulmate. Some supernatural beings never even got one. Some got them after being alive for three hundred years. It wasn’t the mark, but he just wanted something to blame for these feelings he was having. Kai could barely believe someone could know what he was and not think he was an abomination. But there she was, laughing as he failed at washing dishes with magic.

“You know, I got you something for Christmas.” Y/n mumbled, pressed to his side and wrapped in a blanket with him. They were sitting outside, star gazing. Y/n had wanted to sit outside and look at the stars every Christmas night. Last year, she finally told Kai that her and her parents used to do this every Christmas after everyone had finally left to go home. “I thought you said no presents?” He asked, lightly squeezing her to his side. “We both know what I said and what I meant are two different things.” She laughed, pulling herself away from him. She reached into her sweater pocket, handing him a small box that was delicately wrapped in red paper with green ribbon and a bow. Kai took it from her, opening it carefully. She watched him, almost impatiently. He could tell; the closer they got, the stronger their bond seemed to be. He opened the small decorative box to find a black velvet ring box. He smirked, cracking the box open. There was a silver ring with a hollowed line around the band. “Are you asking me to marry you?” He asked, making her laugh. “Oh god, Kai. It’s a present, not a marriage proposal. Besides that’s your job.” Y/n rolled her eyes, glaring at Kai in a playful way. He laughed and slipped it onto his middle finger before he reached into the pocket of his jeans. “I didn’t wrap it, but I did get you something.” He told her as he pulled a delicate necklace out of his pocket. He put the necklace on her without giving her a chance to look at it. He brushed her hair out from under the chain as she picked the pendant up off her chest, admiring it. There was a (f/c) gemstone in the middle surrounded by an elegant halo of diamonds. It was small, but beautifully full of detail. “Thank you.” Y/n whispered.

*2007*

“Malachai Parker! If you’re joking right now, I will kill you.” Y/n said, staring down at Kai who was down on one knee, holding a ring in his hand. “I’m not, y/n! God! Will you marry me or not?!” She could feel how nervous he was. His energy seemed to be pulsing through her, almost making her nervous. “Stop being so nervous. Of course I will.” She laughed as he jumped to his feet, planting his lips on hers, and kissing her hard. When they finally pulled away for air, Kai rested his forehead against hers before grabbing her hand. He slid the ring onto her ring finger before kissing her again.

#imagines #one shots #one shot #kai parker x reader #tvd imagine #tvd au #soulmate #kai parker #tvd x reader #the vampire's assistant #vampire diaries #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #bonnie bennett #tvd one shot

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer III

Part 05: With Some Other Girl

series masterlist | previous part

summary: Rafe’s actions surprised you when there’s no awkwardness lingering from last summer.

a/n: New summer new drama!! We're more than halfway through this series and I might post the final two parts within a week so be on the lookout! That's all! Enjoy part five xx

word count: 2.2k words

Nowhere on the East or West coast did seafood quite like The Wreck. During your summers in the Outer Banks, you made sure that practically every other meal consisted of their to-die-for shrimp or amazing crab. For your birthday, back in October, your mom had even looked into getting food from The Wreck shipped to you before realizing that might have been a stretch.

You waited at the bar for the girl with the curly golden brown hair, and especially kind eyes, to return from the kitchen with your order. The smells of the food cooking made your mouth water.

A boy, who looked about your younger brother's age slide onto the bar stool next to you. His dirty blond hair fell into his eyes, clearly in need of a good haircut.

"Leave the customers alone, JJ." The girl set a paper bag with your food down in front of you, grease staining the bottom.

"I wasn't even doing anything, Kie," JJ protested.

"You're total's $40.53. Do you need a receipt?" She asked, taking your mom's card from your outstretched hand.

"I'm JJ, by the way." He held out his hand for you to shake but the girl - Kie, was it? - smacked it away.

"She's way out of your league, idiot. Sorry about him," she said turning to you.

You smiled at the both of them, their playfulness reminding you of your own friends from back home. "Nice to meet you, JJ." You picked up your bag of food, turning to leave.

"She was so into me." You heard JJ whisper to Kie as you walked to the front door.

"No way, is that y/n?" You froze, a few steps away from the exit, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to. "Hey," Rafe called again. "Get over here."

You'd been back in the Outer Banks a total of three days. You definitely hadn't been planning on seeing Rafe Cameron so soon. Well, after how last summer had ended, you hadn't really been counting on seeing him at all.

You spun on your heel, plastering on your best fake smile, and headed in the direction of Rafe's voice.

It's okay. Act casual. He's just an old friend. There doesn’t have to be any weirdness. You said to yourself, trying to calm your nerves.

Rafe was seated in a corner booth at the back of the restaurant, his arm slung over Phoebe’s shoulder who, herself, was sitting practically in his lap. Her expression looked especially irate at the fact that you were interrupting their - what was going on exactly? A date?

"Uh, hey guys," you said, approaching their table.

"Y/n!" Rafe repeated. "You're back for the summer?"

"Yeah, we got in a few days ago.”

"How are you? How's the boyfriend?"

Why the fuck was Rafe asking about Evan? You wondered, your eyes narrowing trying to gather some explanation from Rafe's face.

"We actually broke up. Last September. He hasn't been my boyfriend for a while." Correction, you'd gone back to Oregon and hadn't stopped thinking about Rafe, for the second year in a row. It didn't seem fair to Evan so you’d tried to let him down gently, the week before auditions for the fall musical no less. It became pretty clear how torn up about it he was when he started crying during the monologue portion of his audition and the tears weren't the kind you forced out solely for a performance.

"How sad," Phoebe said, turning her lip down in a fake pout making it clear she couldn't care less.

You just smiled back at her, not wanting to give any kind of validation. You could feel Rafe eyes on you.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll see you around." You turned to leave. Your mom was waiting outside in the car, probably wondering what was taking so long.

"I hope so," Rafe replied.

☼☼☼

You blinked your eyes open, adjusting to the bright sunlight filling the room. You rubbed the sleep from them, yawning.

Holy shit. This was definitely not your bedroom; this was Rafe's room. The events of last night came rushing back, the morning bless falling away.

You'd run into Cleo at the grocery store after your mom had sent you to get an onion she needed for dinner. Cleo had been buying chasers for Sawyer's my-parents-aren't home-and-they-left-the-liquor-cabinet-unlocked party and invited you. And you went. Which was probably the first mistake of the night.

Rafe had greeted you at the door with the kind of smile that screamed "I don't even remember our fight last summer." You'd opted to ignore the white powder under his nose, likely the reason for his bloodshot eyes.

The party had run dry after a few hours so Rafe offered to grab some more from his house since his whole family was in the Bahamas house for the weekend. You’d went with him because what the hell. The night hadn’t even been the least bit awkward. Mistake number two.

You sat on the Cameron's island counter as Rafe riffled through the cabinet, trying to decide which bottle Ward was least likely to notice was missing.

"Do you trust me?" He’d asked.

That was a loaded question but you’d nodded your head yes. He'd pushed your knees apart, stepping in between your legs like that's where he belonged.

"Tilt your head back," he'd instructed and you had.

Rafe uncapped the bottle of Malibu, pouring it straight into your mouth. He’d hummed with satisfaction as you swallowed the liquid. Your eyes locked as he ran a thumb up your neck and over your chin, whipping away the bit that had spilled before he brought your lips to meet his. It was by far the hottest thing anyone had ever done.

The kiss had tasted salty and coconutty, like the drink he had just poured into your mouth. He moved his other hand to your hip, pulling you in closer.

You'd only broken apart to fumble your way upstairs and into his room, shedding your clothing on the way, your lips finding each other's again and again, kissing like there was some ticking clock counting down the seconds.

You remembered the way Rafe's name had tumbled off your lips with his hand between your thighs. How his blue eyes held yours as he pushed into you. The sweet praises that he whispered into your ears as the both of you came underdone together. The way it all felt so fucking right, like the universe apologizing for the last two summers.

You hadn't meant to fall asleep, to spend the night in Rafe Cameron's bed but he'd wrapped his arm around you and your head fell to rest on his chest and sleep just came.

You kept your movements slow afraid of creaky floorboard as you slipped out of his bed. Sneaking out without Rafe waking up was sure to be the path of less resistance. Hadn't last night been a drunken mistake?

Your shorts had landed next to the bed and your bra was hanging from the door handle, the irony of that wasn't lost on you.

Rafe cleared his throat. "Good morning," he said. Oh, shit. So he was awake.

"I was just looking for my shirt," you replied.

The Cameron's front door opened with a bang. Cole and Milo's voices filled the house seconds later.

"Dude," Cole hollered. "Who'd you fuck last night? Some chick's panties are on your staircase."

Rafe's eyes meet yours and he leaped out of his bed. "Linen closet," he hissed, pulling open the door of the hallway closet and pushing you inside. "Stay here."

His footsteps echoed as he rushed down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to pick up your underwear and shove them in his back pocket.

"I need a fucking boat day," Rafe said to the boys. "I'm hungover as fuck. Can you go see if the Yeti coolers' in the garage? I think Ward brought it up from the boat last time."

"Uhh, yeah, sure," Milo answered. "C'mon Cole."

The sounds of their chatter disappeared and Rafe ran back up the stairs, pulling open the closet. "Okay, the coast is clear."

"Rafe, should we...uh...you know...talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" He asked back.

"Right," you answered unsure if you really believed that casual sex with Rafe Cameron was a possibility. "Can I have my underwear back?"

He shrugged, a smirk growing on his lips. "Nah, I think I'm gonna hold onto them. For safekeeping." What kind of bullshit patriarchal move was that? He looked over his shoulder to the lower level. "Milo and Cole will be back any second, you should probably go."

☼☼☼

You silently thanked your yesterday-self for having left your window unlocked just in case. You closed it quietly behind you and dove into your bed. The door to your bedroom swung open seconds later.

"Why are you still in bed y/n? I told you yesterday that we were going dress shopping for Midsummers today at noon. It’s less than a week away. Get up, please," your mom said.

"Sorry, mom. I'll meet you downstairs in ten."

"Hurry up." She pulled the door closed behind her as she left your room.

You breathed a sigh of relief, throwing off the covers you had hicked up to your neck to hide last night's outfit. Shit, had you really slept with Rafe Cameron? And then he brushed it off like it wasn't going to change things? As if whatever was going between the two of you couldn't get more complicated.

☼☼☼

The light bounced off the three-way mirror you were standing in front of, making the bedding on the dress sparkle.

"Turn around," your mother instructed. Apparently, this year's Midsummers’ theme was Hollywood Glamour like it was the fucking Met Gala or something so she'd been forcing you and in out of red dresses for the past hour and a half. "I really like this one y/n. The bow is so cute."

You resisted rolling your eyes. The bow was hideous, plus the high-low skirt screamed middle school dance. The bedding was itchy and you’d hardly had the dress on for five minutes.

The front door chimed announcing a new customer and Phoebe's figure appeared in the reflection of the mirror.

"I'm gonna go try on a different one, mom," you said, trying to duck into the changing room before Phoebe had the chance to see you.

"Wait, wait wait." Your mom grabbed your hips pulling you back in front of the mirror. "I just think this looks perfect on you, sweetie. Look," she stepped behind you, using one hand to twist your hair up into a makeshift updo. "you can wear your hair pinned up like this and we can get you a sparkly headband. It'll be gorgeous.”

You definitely weren't wearing any kind of a headband based on the fact that you weren't twelve anymore but, more important, you needed to get out of Phoebe’s line of sight like now. "Yeah, okay, mom. That sounds fine. We can get it then."

"Aw, honey. Do you not like it?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. "Cause we can try a different score. Even though this is the only dress store for thirty miles," she mumbled under her breath.

Phoebe glanced over from the front counter, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror. Your mother's voice became muffled as panic rose in your chest. You hadn't even thought about it last night but now all you could remember was Phoebe with Rafe's arm wrapped around her at The Wreck.

Phoebe abandoned her position at the front of the store, walking over to you.

"Hi y/n!" She started, her voicer reaching an octave that screamed fake niceties. "You must be y/n's mom. You two couldn't look anything more alike." That was a lie. You and your mom couldn't look more different. It was your older sister who was practically your mother’s clone.

God, what game was Phoebe playing?

"Oh my gosh.” She took half a step closer forcing you to notice the couple inches she had on you. "Is this your dress for Midsummers? It's so cute," she said, somehow managing to pronounce cute with two syllables.

Another lie. The dress was terrible.

"I'm just picking up my dress too. Custom-made." Phoebe flashed a smile to your mom. "I'm trying to talk Rafe into getting a matching bow-tie but he refuses. Boys," she giggled.

Shhe must have registered the look of surprise on your face. "Oh, did he not tell you we were going together? I wouldn't take it personally. We've been going together since freshman year. It's tradition at this point."

The saleswoman returned from the back of the store, a garment bag in her hand. "Well, I've gotta run. See you around!" She pranced off, her vanilla perfume lingering in the air.

"She seems nice. I'm so glad you're making friends here, honey.”

"Oh, yeah. She’s the best." If your mom heard the sarcasm in your voice, she chose to ignore it. "I'm going to try on the black one," you huffed, heading back into the changing room.

It wasn't like going with Rafe to Midsummers was in the realm of possibilities anyway, so why was it bothering you so much that he was taking Phoebe? Either way, there was nothing stopping you from making Rafe wish it was you on his arm instead. Petty wasn’t usually your style but something about the memory of Rafe’s lip on your neck being fresh in your mind made all rational thoughts go out the window. Game on Phoebe.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13 [drop a ☀️ in my inbox or messages if you want to be added]

#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx netflix #obx #where it leads series #where it leads #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron outer banks #obx fanfic #rafe cameron x reader

[cadence-talle]

like ask prompts?? ..... because if so I would like to ask for a kam prompt where they’re both strangers on an airplane and one of them falls asleep on the other and the other doesn’t want to wake him up because he looks so comfortable (and he’s hot)

lisTEN anon you can’t just SAY stuff like that-

Word count: 1,437

-/-

Tam hates airplanes. 

They’re cramped and weird-smelling and the cushioned seats seem to be designed to make you as uncomfortable as possible. Airplanes are high up on his list of Terrible Things, only being beaten out by his parents, his sister’s cat, and people in general. 

But unless he wants to drive three days cross-country, he doesn’t have much of a choice. At least the flight is only five hours. 

He sinks down into his seat and leans his head against the cool glass of the tiny airplane window, watching little people in orange vests move back and forth. Someone sits in the seat next to him. Tam doesn’t look up.

“Hi,” a male voice says. “Are you heading to Oregon?”

“Yep,” Tam responds shortly, because obviously he is, he’s on a plane to Oregon. The guy shifts in his seat, presumably buckling his seatbelt. 

“Cool. I like your hair, by the way. How’d you get it so silver?”

“I melted my father’s heirloom ring and dipped my bangs in it,” Tam says. If this guy is going to keep asking stupid questions, he’s going to give short answers. 

The guy hums, murmuring something like okay, that’s a little edgy, and lapses into silence. Tam breathes a sigh of relief- he does not want to be talking to strangers right now- and pops in his earbuds. He might as well finish this audiobook. 

Fifteen minutes and two chapters later, Tam turns away from the window. They’re still on the ground, not even close to the runway yet. He exhales and picks up his phone, tapping absentmindedly through the few texts he’s gotten before switching it to airplane mode. He turns towards the aisle and freezes. 

The guy in the seat next to him, the guy who was just talking his ear off, is really freaking hot. Carefully tousled blond hair that looks like it contains even more product than Tam's, icy blue eyes. He's sketching something in a notebook right now, tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth. Tam is ashamed at how adorable he finds it. 

Mentally, he slaps himself, shaking his head slightly. Stop looking at him, focus on your book, he thinks. With much effort, he looks out the window again. 

-/-

Half an hour later, they’re finally in the air, Tam’s finished his audiobook, and he hasn’t been able to get Annoying(ly Hot) Plane Guy out of his head. He taps his fingers against the armrest impatiently, wishing they were just in Oregon already. Suddenly, a warm weight settles on his shoulder. 

Annoying(ly Hot) Plane Guy is leaning on him. Annoying(ly Hot) Plane Guy is sleeping. On Tam’s shoulder. 

Tam is about to combust. From anger or awkwardness, he’s not sure.

Gently, he tries to push the guy off of him. Annoying(ly Hot) Plane Guy doesn’t wake up, instead snuggling his head closer to Tam’s neck. The movement causes the notebook in his lap to fall to the ground. 

Accepting that this is, in fact, his life, Tam sighs and picks it up. It’s a simple sketchbook, wirebound, with the name Keefe Sencen written on the top in messy script. Absentmindedly, Tam flips it open. It’s probably snooping, but he doesn’t really care; the owner- Keefe, apparently- is literally sleeping on his shoulder. 

The drawings are beautiful. Most of them are just sketches, black-and-white with the occasional watercolor. Some of them look so real they could leap off the page and Tam would barely be surprised. 

Tam turns to the most recent page, stunned to see it filled with a simple pencil sketch of him. He’s staring out the window, bangs hanging over one eye, and he looks so incredibly calm Tam almost wants to laugh. He’s never that collected in real life.

Still, it feels a little weird to be looking at something so obviously private, so Tam closes the sketchbook and tucks it into the seatback pocket in front of Keefe. 

After that, it’s kind of peaceful. Keefe snores away on his shoulder, Tam listens to music, and it’s fine. 

Of course, then the universe decides to ruin everything again. 

They hit a patch of turbulence just over Missouri, bouncing to and fro so wildly Tam can hear multiple people scream. The pilot comes over the speaker and announces that they will set down in the St Louis airport until things quiet down. 

Keefe wakes up during their descent, startling awake with wide eyes. “What happened?” He asks. Tam raises an eyebrow.

“You fell asleep on my shoulder. Then we hit a storm. We’re stopping in St Louis.”

“Oh.” Keefe’s quiet for a second, cheeks flushing a light pink. “Uh, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tam says. “My name’s Tam, by the way.”

“Keefe,” Keefe says, and Tam has to remind himself not to sound like a total stalker by saying ‘I know.’

They end up walking side by side as they make their way out of the plane, silently looking around. Every airport looks the same to Tam, but the St Louis one seems to be… older than the one they left from back in New York. 

The plane’s passengers are directed towards a terminal, informed that they’ll be there for at least three hours, and then left alone. Tam groans and sends his sister a quick text informing her of the delay. She sends back a frowny face emoji, and that’s that. 

“Hey,” Keefe says, moving over to where Tam’s sitting. “Do you want to go get food or something? Looks like we’re gonna be here a while, and restaurants are probably crowded. Better to stick together.”

“Sure,” Tam responds, not commenting on the fact that that logic makes absolutely no sense. They consult a highly confusing map, finally decide to just go to McDonald’s, and head down the airport hallway. Halfway there, Keefe skids to a stop with a delighted gasp.

“What is that?” 

The thing in question is a large, obnoxiously yellow vending machine. It’s emblazoned with the words Ted Drewes Frozen Custard and features a picture of an old man smiling and holding a cup of frozen custard practically upside down. It’s the most horrific thing Tam has ever seen.

“I need it,” Keefe says. “I need the frozen custard.”

“Why?” Tam asks. “It’s probably expired and gross, anyway.”

“But Ted Drewes, Tam! He’s so happy with his frozen custard!”

“That man looks like he’s already dead and just being used as a prop,” Tam observes. “You do not need the frozen custard. Let’s go.” 

Keefe pouts, and Tam’s heart does something that would probably qualify it for the olympic gymnastics team. He rolls his eyes. “C’mon. I’ll buy you an ice cream at McDonald’s.”

-/-

Three hours, two McFlurries, and one race around the airport later, they’re boarding the plane again. This time, as soon as they both sit down, Keefe turns to Tam and says,

“Hi. Are you heading to Oregon?”

Tam snorts. “Idiot.”

Keefe gives him a thumbs-up and makes grabby hands at his earbuds. “Can I listen to your audiobook with you?”

Tam blinks. Normally, he’d say no to anyone besides Linh- he’d most definitely say no to a random stranger. Of course, these aren’t exactly normal circumstances.

“Sure,” he decides, handing Keefe the right earbud. The guy lights up like a goddamn christmas tree as Tam starts the chapter.

(Thirty seconds later, he pulls out the headphone to look at Tam incredulously. “What the heck are you reading?”

Tam’s too busy laughing to answer.)

-/-

“So, uh,” Keefe says when they’re standing next to the luggage pickup. Tam knows his sister is waiting somewhere outside the airport, but he figures she can wait a little longer. Keefe’s cheeks flush. “It was… nice? To meet you?”

“You too,” Tam offers a small smile. “I’ll- see you around, maybe.” He won’t, probably, but he doesn’t know what else to say. Keefe nods. 

“Yeah. I should go, but- here.”

He shoves a piece of paper at Tam’s chest and turns away. Tam barely manages a ‘bye’ before he’s gone. He stands there for a moment until he remembers to look at the paper. 

It’s another drawing of him- Tam honestly doesn’t know when Keefe had the time. He’s sitting on one of those seats at the airport gate, typing at his phone. There’s a tiny grin on his face, soft in the way he never lets himself be. Tam wonders how Keefe manages to capture it.

Under the drawing, there are words, and a phone number-

Call me. -K

It’s funny, Tam thinks. He doesn’t hate airplanes so much anymore. 

#lynn rambles #my writing #kam #keefe sencen #tam song #kotlc

[taylizmasterpost]

Liz References on the Red Tour

Quick disclaimer: nearly all of these are going to be reaches of some sort. You don’t have to subscribe to them, but I just wanted to point them out.

Red - Flags: The staging for Red has dancers waving around red flags. This could be a reference to, you know, red flags in a relationship, but it could also be a reference to the flag waving performance/sport of Color Guard:

Color Guard is often an important part of a marching band, especially at university events. In YBWM on the Fearless Tour, both Taylor and Liz were dressed as members of a band:

Red - Memorizing him: During the line about “memorizing him” on the Red Tour, Taylor makes a specific gesture that Liz made almost every night on the Speak Now tour during Better than Revenge:

Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song

IKYWT - The Fantasy: I Knew You Were Trouble is staged to be a darker version of the fairytale prince/princess fantasy that had been a theme throughout the Fearless and Speak Now tours, specifically in Love Story and Enchanted, which are both pictured below.

Taylor goes through the same dancing and choreography as in the other performances with a dark, masked man, who sweeps her off her feet.

However, as the performance continues, the dance gets more dark and chaotic, to the point where Taylor herself gets corrupted and changes out of her fairytale dress:

The story this performance tells to me is that someone came into her life during the Fearless/Speak Now fantasy era of things and she was forced to abandon that fantasy and grow up due to the chaotic and tumultuous nature of the relationship. To me personally, that reads as Liz.

Truthfully, the whole thing is worth a watch for the symbolism of it, regardless if Liz is the suitor referenced here or not. Great example of Taylor deconstructing the symbols of her past albums/performances:

Stay Stay Stay - Carousel: Okay this is a little detail you may not have noticed, but the background projection for Stay Stay Stay is a carousel. This isn’t particularly interesting at first until you remember that Liz and Taylor met for the second time at the Orange County Fair.

Here’s the OCF’s famous carousel from a news segment done on the fair the year they met. Kinda familiar, right?

The secret message for “Stay Stay Stay” is “Daydreaming about real love,” which could suggest that it’s not really about anyone, and just a made up story. However, Taylor likely did the liner notes closer to the end of the album process, and Stay Stay Stay was one of the first songs written, so perhaps this was more her looking back on the heartbreak and wishing it had worked out how she’d originally wanted.

The Lucky One - The Rose Garden: 

Alright, so this one goes slightly beyond the tour. As I’ve said in previous posts, the “Rose Garden” was a stadium in Portland, Oregon where Taylor performed with Liz multiple times. By the time the Red Tour came around, it had changed its name to the “Moda Center.” 

In the background of the Wildest Deams music video, Taylor makes an explicit reference to the “Rose Garden” and it’s giant PORTLAND sign.

To me this is interesting because Wildest Dreams has Taylor playing a 1950s film actress, and The Lucky One performance on the Red Tour does as well (you can see in the background she’s from Wonder Cinema).

The featurette at the start of the tour also confirms this, and throughout the whole of Taylor getting ready, she has a turned around photograph on the mirror. Perhaps referencing someone so important to her she keeps a picture of them on her vanity, but who has to remain a secret. Another woman, perhaps? One she may have done a grand gesture for at the Rose Garden?

Alright, reach time is over. Hope you enjoyed it. Let’s move on.

Reconciliation and Late-Stage TayLiz (September 2014 - Present)