#Especially the musicians because dear lord are they GOOD

[godblessthisfuckingfandom]

hey wanna know the formula SPG uses to make a crescendo

no you didn’t and I’m gonna tell you anyway

it’s (approximately)

Drums 

Drums+piano 

Drums+piano+bass 

Drums+piano+bass+guitar+electric+other 

OR there’s another one

Acoustic Guitar 

Guitar+piano

Guitar+piano+drums 

Guitar+piano+drums+bass+anything else 

you probably will never use this information but 14-year-old SPG obsessed me who was just starting to learn anything about music thought this was INCREDIBLY cool (note I have not tested this at all it may be different for different songs I just noticed one time hey they do this a certain way oooh that’s really cool)

[hxzbinwrites]

Hey!! Saw that u were taking request <3 I was thinking that an Alestor x wife!reader being a power (but absolutely terrifying) couple would be soooo cool, like maybe they already knew each other from when they were humans, and Alestor is just 10000% a simp for his wifey lol. Hope u like it!

Alastor x Wife! Overlord! Reader | Forgiveness |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Death, Killing, Mentions of Alastor being a Cannibal, Reader makes STUPID DECISIONS

In the Pride Ring is where all of the sinners and Overlords alike mingle. The uppermost ring of Hell and the closest to Heaven. That’s where some of the most feared and powerful beings live. Two of those entities being Alastor, the Radio Demon, and (Y/n), the Jazz Demon.

Together, they rule their districts with an iron grip. While some Overlords team up, like the Vees, Alastor and (Y/n) were the first to do it. Well, it makes sense really, especially because they were close during their respective times alive on Earth.

——————

Three gunshots were heard that fateful night. One ending a mans life by his hand, one ending the witness’s life by his hand, and one ending his by justice’s hand. No more Bayou Killer, but he took two more lives before he went. Awful, sick man. Good thing he’s in Hell now…

Alastor hissed as his back hit the pavement. His squinted eyes took in his surroundings, he was in Hell. Hmm, no shocker there. What was a shock was seeing the body next to his.

“Ugghh” They groaned, sitting upright on the pavement next to him. They locked eyes. It was (Y/n). Before Alastor could even speak, she pounced on him, pushing him back into the pavement.

“You sick son of a BITCH!! YOU KILLED ME!! SHOT ME LIKE I WAS AN ANIMAL FOR YA NEXT MEAL!!” She yelled, shaking him back and forth by gripping his collar. His collar looked identical to hers, and he tuned out her yelling, he noticed her attire. She was now wearing a black suit with red and white accents, one that looked like a reverse image of his. Except a few details weren’t the same, hers looked more feminine, but also had less harsh edges to it. She looked more elegant while he looked more harsh.

He then looked up to her face, she had red eyes and long, silky black hair, with red underneath. He looked to the top of her head and noticed two fluffy, black ears. They were currently pressed to her scalp, a clear indicator of her unhappiness at the current moment.

“AND TO THINK, AFTER ALL OF THAT BEGGIN, YOU WAS JUST DYING TO GET ME ON YOUR RADIO SHOW!! WELL LOOK AT US NOW, MR. ALASTOR. LOOK. AT. US. NOW. WHAT EVEN ARE YOU, YOU SICK FREAK. EVERYONE KNEW THE BAYOU KILLER ATE FOLKS. IF YOU WERENT SHOT, WERE YOU GONNA EAT ME?? WAS I GONNA NOT EVEN BE ABLE TO HAVE A BURIAL NEXT TO MY PA, CAUSE YOU ATE ME!? OH LORD HELP ME!!”

Alastor rolled his eyes, feeling no remorse for the doe that whined above him. (Y/n) was a famous musician in Louisiana, particularly in Jazz. Alastor had begged her to come onto his radio show, play some tunes for his devoted fans. She agreed, but that night Alastor didn’t show to the studio. She heard shouting in the woods across the street from the building, stupidly she went to investigate. She saw the oh so famous radio host, and with a bang of a shotgun the other man was dead. Probably in Heaven now. Trying to stay silent, (Y/n) tried to back away before a branch snapped, like a doe her eyes widened before she darted away, only to be shot right in the heart and drop down to the ground. She heard another shot faintly in the distance before she felt the wind brush past her as she fell.

“My dear, I apologize.” Alastor said, gently grabbing (Y/n)‘s hand. “It was never my intention to make you my target. I knew that if word got out about my….hobbies….that my reputation would be ruined. No more radio show.”

“You can apologize for the rest of eternity” She scowled, smacking his hand away before standing up,” You’re a MONSTER. Leave me ALONE. Hopefully someone down here will be nice, but I’m not taking no help from you”. (Y/n) finally walked away, leaving a very annoyed Alastor sitting there.

———————

About 20 years later

Alastor was a feared Overlord now, rising the ranks out of seemingly nowhere. Even with this newfound power and respect, (Y/n) still wanted nothing to do with him. She was famous in her own way. Music was not very abundant in Hell, and she profited off of that. She had little to no competition in the music industry. Becoming an icon of Hell, her name was in everyone’s mouth, making Alastor yesterday’s news, which irked him to no end.

‘I need her.’ Alastor initially thought,’ with someone as influential as her now, having her on my side will make my power increase tenfold.’ But after many times of asking over the years, he just yearned for her admiration. Not only to be on his side, but by his side. He didn’t know where the newfound obsession came from, but Alastor knew he wouldn’t stop until he brought her to him.

Alastor made his way to her huge studio, basically a small turf at this point. Without ever fighting, she’d managed to become a little bit of an Overlord, just not to the extent she could be called one. He made his way up to her penthouse, knowing the way by heart since this is not the first time he’s made a visit for an alliance.

“What Alastor.” (Y/n) asked, not even looking up from her sheet music she was writing.

“Hello my dear!” Alastor said,”lovely to see you again! I just miss you so much darling!”

“Miss me from what?” She said, turning around to meet his eyes,” we were aquatinted when we were alive, and then you killed me. What exactly do you miss me from?”

“I just miss seeing you.” He said in a softer tone,”Please (Y/n), you must realize that your death was an accident. I was never planning to hurt you. I was never planning to do anything to you.”

(Y/n)’s head tipped down, her ears pressed to her scalp,”but you did, Alastor. You killed me.”

“My dear….” He said, getting closer slowly, like she’d dart off at any given moment, just for him to not see her ever again. “My dear, I cannot imagine the pain you’ve gone through. I know it’s been a few years now, but that’s a few years you could’ve still been alive. Found a husband, had a better music career, just lived. I took that from you, and I’m…..I’m sorry.”

“I know Alastor.” She said, hugging him. Even though he hated when people touched him, she did not know this, so he internally decided to let this one time be the exception. “You know I can never fully forgive you….but after all of these years, I think I can at least try to have you in my life….but if you screw up ANY, I’m gonna kill you. I don’t care if you’re an Overlord or whatever the hell you’re doing, I will kill you like you killed me.”

“Hmm, fair enough” He shrugged, breaking off the hug as he sat down in the chair across from hers.

———————

Present Day

“So hold up” Angel said, looking at the two powerful Overlords,”He literally killed you and you were like, ‘oh well, I forgive you’. What the hell (Y/n)?”

(Y/n) was a true Overlord know. Once she let Alastor back into her life, he taught her the ways of toppling Overlords. She didn’t posses near the amount of power that he had, so he did the gruesome part for her. Building her musical empire (and later on having to shoo of Vox who begged her to join his up and coming ‘Television’ idea after Alastor shot him down).

“Oh I’d hardly call it forgiving.” Alastor said,”I get constantly reminded about it every day, multiple times a day. You wonder why it took us 60 years to even get engaged.”

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Alastor smirked, looking over at his wife.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? The man kept coming by begging me every week for TWENTY YEARS!! Lovesick puppy if you ask me.”

Charlie squealed, hugging onto Vaggie. “Look Vaggie! That could be us one day!!”

“I hope not” Vaggie said,” A freaky cannibalistic overlord and his delusional companion. I’m fine with staying as us.”

“No Vaggie! I meant married! Wouldn’t that be fun!! Married for a long time!! Forever!!”

While Charlie was helping Vaggie stop short circuiting, (Y/n) and Alastor just looked at one another with a knowing glance. Alastor took her hand and kissed her knuckles, smiling up at her.

“Thank you again my dear, for letting me back into your life. I’m eternally sorry for what I did.”

“I know you are Alastor, plus I’d be dead already now regardless.” (Y/n) giggled,”I still don’t know what overcame me that day. I mean, who lets someone back into their life after doing that!! I am glad I did though. It’s like you said in that apology, I have a husband, I have a huge music career, but I’m not living, technically, but it feels like it!!”

Alastor chuckled,”that’s right, my precious doe. Now, I am off to go grab lunch for the both of us! If you excuse me, I shall make a trip down to the Cannibal District, and then over to the grocery store for your food!”

———————

Word Count: 1,560

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #20:

Dump's International Airport

My famous brother's always been a big deal.

I remember his first peewee soccer game. Both teams just ran after him in a pack while he scored goal after goal. "Dear Lord Baby Jesus," I asked, "why is my little brother already a bigger deal than me?"

Nothing's happened ever since to disabuse me of my inherent secondary status. Just check him out today. He's in a killer band and I can't sing Happy Birthday on key; he blogs about Pharaoh Sanders and Sonic Youth for the mad rushing crowd while I blog about him for you twelve people; he's interviewed 2/3 of Crazy Horse, Richard Thompson and Robyn Hitchcock (twice!) and my cat won't even listen to me; he has a glorious head of hipster hair on top of his six foot frame; my bald spot swells and shines far beneath his stately chin.

Even so, there are a few things we have in common, and at the top of that list is the firm conviction that James McNew is a very big deal. A good drinking game would be chugging every time my brother and I mention his name while together. You'd get plastered.

Odds are we'll ruminate on McNew's status as the best musician in Yo La Tengo (even though we revere Ira Kaplan and Georgia Hubley), next we'll wish he'd make a new solo record, then I'd insist we talk about our close encounters with James (my brother occasionally shares a byline with McNew on Aquarium Drunkard or elsewhere, usually when they're both talking about the Dead, and when he interviews McNew they sound like old friends; I like to wave and shout James's name from the pit, hoping he'll remember the time I helped him move his amps after sneaking into YLT's soundcheck in '95 at the Alligator Lounge; James always politely nods then resumes his job of shredding everyone's soul to pieces with his furious musical chops; humble guy, James).

For the uninitiated: McNew emerged from a parking lot ticket hut in the early 90's and began recording solo music sporadically under the name Dump; he put out three classic full records in the 90's, and since then has issued a collection of Prince covers and a few other sporadic releases, the most recent of which was only released on tape in Spain. That's right, I'm writing about a guy who issues his music only to Spaniards who still have tape decks; I guess we'd better add "obtusely" in front of "humble" when describing McNew.

Meanwhile, he's spent the past 30+ years as the cornerstone of the world's greatest, still-operational, rock band, Yo La Tengo.

If you need any proof that they are the gnarliest group of rock nerds this side of Sterling, Mo, Lou and what's his name, or doubt that James is their pillar of obtusely humble virtuosity, check this out (and please note I was standing next to the dude with the camcorder when this insanity went down; I'm still reeling from the experience, and I still have the setlist):

Please note, I think my expert moving of McNew's amps earlier that same day was a prime contributor to this all out sonic assault on everything Stephen Stills stands for on the band's part. Ira Kaplan appears to be wrestling a giant man-eating octopus while Georgia and James slay the beat.

On his own McNew can be fragile and tender, sounding like a shivering adolescent rather then a human behemoth (when seen from pit and James looks like he's 6'6 / 325; some of this is because Ira, and especially Geogia, are fairly miniature humans, but most of his heft comes from his God-like approach to every instrument you can imagine; he also happens to be a big dude).

Listen to him warble on Into Fall from '94; yes his guitar has a touch of wobbling hippo, but everything here is precious, and McNew shows us he's a later-day Brian Wilson. All that's missing is Wilson's budget, torment and sister-in-law lust:

But McNew can also produce music that's straight up violent, write rock anthems and lay down shambolic funk. In other words, he's a one man Yo La Tengo, masterful in every possible mood.

International Airport, a vinyl-only EP from 95, puts every one of these qualities concisely forward. We open with Words, a droning prayer that sounds like Lou Reed slipped out of a dull stint in rehab so as to sit in on the demo sessions for The Cure's Faith. A song like this should not be interesting. But it's awesome, and when the guitar shoulders in late we tremble and get excited about what lies ahead.

Side two features everything from an a cappella Kinks song sung out the window that comes complete with polite city applause, to a brutal, call the cops on your psychotic neighbor, track Laurdine.

But it's the 12 minute title track, which fills most of the A Side, that raises International Airport, which I bought upon it's release for probably $6, up to Dollar Bin hall of fame status. All hail this sprawling ode.

McNew opens the track with a Casio riff, taking his time. Bass and drums rise only gradually until, around the two minute mark, we suddenly realize we are taking off, the international terminal long gone as a second riff expands and swerves about the first, like joint eagles protecting their nest. It's lovely flying, and we have to remind ourselves that McNew is responsible for everything here. Had McNew taken this song to YLT, I don't know what more his band mate Hubley could have done on the drum track, and I have a hard time remembering that it's McNew, not Kaplan, who's wrestling the octopus this time around. Seven minutes into it we expect things to fade out majestically but McNew instead steers his increasingly interstellar song through a cosmic, psychedelic carwash, the keyboards, then guitars, sounding like angry droids with laser cannons.

Wow.

When McNew's vocals enter at the 11th hour/minute to serenade us and wave good-bye we wish he'd take us with him wherever he's going. But sadly, we're not invited. Rather, James is probably hanging out with my famous brother as we speak: two humble and deeply masterful dudes.

[korkietism]

i voted good hearing bc fox palisman but!! as someone who is not at all an expert wouldn't it be crazy cool silly angst if raine who has crazy good hearing constantly had INSANE sensory overload bc they can't see anything and everything else is So Loud

(also i like them having superhearing bc they're a bard and are super in tune w every sound bc they're a musician uwu)

Oh my lord you’re a genius yes. It’s significantly worse without their glasses. They find it overwhelmingly distressing to barely make out the blurry blobs around them yet hear an onslaught of noise. A whistle cannot save our dear bard from that agony.

They got big twitchy ears so they are really good when it’s quiet because they can hear a soft footstep from a mile away like a cat. But when they’re in a loud environment? They’re useless, especially without glasses. With their glasses they feel more grounded, though the noise is painful and awful.

[septembersghost]

Janis Joplin & Raquel Welch (on relationship w/ fans) [Dick Cavett] twitter.com/MichaelWarbur17/status/1660724794948460562?s=20

Kinda did a search on JJ... In a way her time era reflects current events- especially the turmoil (politics/leadership, environment, economy, human rights, etc). I was thinking of how the combination of technology & the adulation of fans has provided both positive & negative effects on society & culture. AI is the next phase. Yikes.

In a way I can see how today's artists have drawn from the influence of those before them- just like how the ones they followed drew from their predecessors. One of JJ's final actions was to help pay for a tombstone for Bessie Smith's (her hero) unmarked grave. Sadly her struggle with drugs & alcohol took her early at 27, not long after Jimi Hendrix.

An Artist's Ambition...

“Dear family,

I managed to pass my 27th birthday without really feeling it. Ah, such a funny game. Two years ago, I didn’t even want to be it – no, that’s not true.

I’ve been lookin’ around and I’ve noticed something; after you reach a certain level of talent – and quite a few have that talent – the deciding factor is ambition, or as I really see it: how much you really need.

Need to be loved, need to be proud of yourself. And I guess that’s what ambition is; it’s not all a depraved quest for position or money, maybe it’s for love. Lots of love.

Ha!

Janis”

At Sardis while dining with DC, JJ heard her song played and he asks her what song- she says "Down on Me" and he responded "I guess that's one you can't play on TV" and she replies "It's a gospel song."

https://www.tpt.org/janis-joplin-american-masters/video/american-masters-dick-cavett-janis-joplins-influence-him-and-his-show/

"Down On Me"

Down on me, down on me, Looks like everybody in this whole round world They're down on me.

Love in this world is so hard to find When you've got yours and I got mine. That's why it looks like everybody in this whole round world They're down on me.

Saying they're down on me, down on me. Looks like everybody in this whole round world Down on me.

When you see a hand that's held out toward you, Give it some love, some day it may be you. That's why it looks like everybody in this whole round world They're down on me, yeah.

Lord, they're down on me, down on me, oh! Looks like everybody in this whole round world Is down on me.

Believe in your brother, have faith in man, Help each other, honey, if you can Because it looks like everybody in this whole round world Is down on me.

I'm saying down on me, oh, down on me, oh! It looks like everybody in this whole round world Down on me!!

7.7.14 "Celebrity Spotlight: I predict that some things will never change. There will always be an increasing fixation on the private lives of musicians, especially the younger ones. Artists who were at their commercial peak in the '70s, '80s and '90s tell me, "It was never this crazy for us back then!" And I suspect I'll be saying that same thing to younger artists someday (God help them). There continues to be a bad girl vs. good girl/clean-cut vs. sexy debate, and for as long as those labels exist, I just hope there will be contenders on both sides. Everyone needs someone to relate to." - TS

as they wrote (satirically though it may be) in chicago: i'm a star! and the audience loves me! and i love them! and they love me for loving them, and i love them for loving me! and we love each other! and that's because none of us got enough love in our childhoods. and that's showbiz, kid.

[lostglassguitars]

Ink Demonth Day 4: Side

I’m doing this day early because I won’t have Internet for the next few days, so I might as well post two prompts today. maybe Day 5 if I get to it.

Anyways! We’re back to the gays. So what.

Henry isn’t often a man to take sides.

It isn’t that he’s a pacifist, exactly, it’s just he’s never been that man. Henry likes to sit back and watch things unfold. He’s tired. Action and fighting and using words isn’t his thing.

In fact, one of the main reasons people can tell he’s mad is because he gets loud.

So when Henry’s working, inking a Bendy drawing (god, he’s so tired of drawing Bendy, but he does seem to get better every time), and hears the shouting start, he doesn’t get up at first.

“Listen to me!” “No, you listen to me, Mr. Connor. I’m not about to take your shit-”

And then Henry’s ears perk up. That’s… that’s Sammy. What he was doing in the Art Department, Henry didn’t know.

But Thomas Connor fighting with him didn’t sound good. Both of them were stubborn as hell, and while that was a fairly good quality in the right situations, pitted up against each other, it wouldn’t work out very well.

When there’s the sound of something smashing, the other artists look up, concern and anxiety clouding their eyes. Disturbances aren’t common, nor are they good for anybody involved in the disturbances. Joey has made that much clear.

Henry decides to get involved. Standing and pushing his chair back, he waves down a younger man who’s beginning to stand. “Get back to work, everyone. I’ll see what’s going on,” he says.

And because he’s Henry Stein, because he’s Joey’s golden, right-hand man- or he’s supposed to be- they all obey and go right back to work.

Tom and Sammy are, quite literally, right outside the door. Henry startles back, a noise of surprise leaving his lips.

Sammy’s sentence immediately cuts off. His startling blue eyes met Henry’s, and something like shame and surprise cross his face.

Tom, however, is not so frazzled. “Good evening, Mr. Stein,” he says, voice evening out from the tumult it had just been a moment ago.

“Evening already?” Henry runs a hand through his sandy hair. “Dear Lord, it’s been a quick day.” His eyes pass over the two, whose stances are still tense, their eyes still dangerously dark. “I heard some loud voices. Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” Tom starts to say, but Sammy hisses out a low, sharp “No,”. Henry blinks at the ferocity with which Sammy speaks, jabbing a finger at Tom.

“We are not done with this conversation, Connor. You need to stop getting on my case-”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such an ass-”

“You have no damn idea what the hell I am-”

“Timeout! Stop,” Henry says, making a T with his hands. When Sammy ignores him and takes a threatening step towards Tom- which isn’t the greatest idea, Tom could probably take him with his hands tied behind his back- Henry puts a hand on the musician’s shoulder.

Sammy freezes. His muscles tense beneath Henry’s touch, then surprisingly relax.

“What’s going on? Tom, what’s Sammy mad about?” Henry asks.

“I’m-” Sammy starts, but Henry meets his eyes, and he immediately falls silent.

“Mr. Lawrence here has a habit. He’s protesting to my coming in and out of the music rooms, when all I’m doing is my job.”

“Okay. Now. Sammy?”

“He’s interfering on work. The schedule is too tight for us to redo each take every time he can’t hold back a minute to come and bang on a pipe and fix whatever the hell he’s trying to.”

Henry chuckles- he can’t help it, this business is just so ridiculous and there are just too many problems- and sighs.

“Easy solution.”

“Which is?” Sammy asks sharply.

“Tom talks to Joey. Tom, I understand this is quite a place to keep up, especially since we’re so short-staffed, but you need to speak to Joey about this. Everywhere needs maintenance; you can only be so many places at once. Tell him he needs to hire more people. Maybe Gent can send more over or something, I don’t know how you all operate.”

Tom blinks, looks confused at this solution. “I suppose,” he mumbles. “And if he gives you problems, come to me, and we’ll go to him together, alright?”

“Okay.” Tom nods, steps back. Looks at Sammy, then back at Henry, and nods. “Okay. Good.”

“Good,” Henry repeats. “Glad we could settle this.” Tom nods, eyes still flicking between Sammy and Henry, and leaves.

Sammy releases a breath, his form relaxing. “Thank you, Henry,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t really want to say this, but he does anyway. In fact, Henry has only seen Sammy apologize to two people; him and Jack, Sammy’s lyricist.

“You’re welcome. Wasn’t that big of a deal. What are you doing in the Art Department?”

“Was getting more paper for Jack and me. Ended up going this way.” Sammy mutters.

“How’s songwriting going?” “Fine. Your art?”

“Wouldn’t say it’s mine exactly. But fine. I’ve got some talented people in here.”

Sammy hums, more of a noise of acknowledgment than anything, but it’s surprisingly gentle. For once, the musician with a temper doesn’t seem to have anything to say at all.

“Well,” Henry slips his hand off Sammy’s shoulder- he had forgotten it was there- and moves for the door.

A hand catches his wrist. Surprised, Henry turns to face Sammy’s intent face, eyes glinting with something.

“You knew Tom was right. I was just being an ass.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then why did you take my side?”

Something bubbles in Henry’s stomach. He shoots Sammy a smile- something that should be simply business, but feels like it’s something more.

“Well, maybe I like you better than Tom.”

Sammy’s face is rewarding enough for the comment. He looks like the sun’s just crashed into him, and he doesn’t care at all.

With a small smile, Henry moves from Sammy’s touch into the art room.

And Sammy Lawrence stands, thoughts racing.

He chose my side because he likes me more.

Sammy smiles. I can get behind that.

-

Here I am again with the hinted Senry. Can you tell what my favorite ship is?

[heavenwontbethe-same]

Sugar, him, and everything nice

Chapter 2: Vanilla icing

Pairing: Will x Gabriel

Summary: Will is a musician and Gabriel is a baker au

Wordcount: 587

A/N: i think i wrote one too many crack fics because i don't think my normal shit is as good as it was before ;-; like, the nobisuki series? so much fucking better than whatever this is. but i promised a few of y'all and i'll complete this series if it's the last thing i do. this is gonna be really shitty so don't come at me please ;-;

and merry christmas!

Series Masterlist

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

It was frustrating. gabriel would try to come earlier and earlier everyday to catch sight of that elusive musician that had taken his little neighbourhood by storm, but to no avail. he would try to time his breaks accordingly, trying to put a face to those beautiful melodies, but it was always too crowded. the little flashes he got here and there were not enough to sate his curiosity. it was, however, enough for him to develop a small crush on the guy.

sophie had already told him that there wasn't much to see; the guy wore a hoodie and a mask. but still, gabriel, (and at least 20 other girls), got the vibes that he was cute. anyone who played an instrument, especially a guitar, was instantly hot, everyone knew that. didn't they? maybe gabriel needed that break now, he was going insane.

the handy little bell that alerted a customer's presence chimed and grabbed gabriel's attention. and made the cozy little bakery 10 times smaller. at least it seemed like that to gabriel. the cute guy that sophie had been mercilessly teasing him about since his visit a couple of weeks ago was back. and gabriel was alone in the shop. oh dear fucking lord.

"hey gabby," the man smiled, striding into the bakery.

"h-hey" gabriel replied, stuttering only mildly and not being as suave and nonchalant as he had hoped to be. this man gave him gay panic sure, but he didn't need to know that!

"what can i do you for today?" gabriel asked.

"my, oh my, aren't we straight forward?" the man laughed while gabriel flushed. "well, firstly, you can do me anytime you want," he winked, "and secondly, i want some cupcakes for my boss but i don't know what she likes. help out a guy? please?"

what was gabriel supposed to say to that? refuse? and even if he could, he couldn't resist those blue eyes looking at him like that. so, even with him feeling his face heat up and burn from the man's stare, embarrassment, and the overhead lighting, he pointed towards the case and began reciting pros and cons of each choice.

all while the man looked at him in a mixture of amusement and fondness, and he was oblivious.

"the more unusual flavours are almost always a hit or miss, so i would recommend going for safer options. we have the chocolate, the vanilla, and the red velvet, although a few people don't like that, can't even imagine why. you can also try other pastries? although you did say you don't know what she likes..." gabriel finished.

the man was leaning on the counter, still looking at him with that bright, fond smile.

"what would you recommend?" he asked.

"can i tell you a secret?" gabriel asked, leaning in with a teasing air, surprising himself with his confidence. "the vanilla here is to die for." he whispered into the charged space between them, holding the man's stare, green eyes poring into blue ones. "it's probably my favourite after the blueberry ones." his gaze flicked to the man's lips.

just when he thought the man might have been looking at his lips, the bell above the door chimed as a customer walked in and they broke away.

just as the man was walking away with his dozen vanilla cupcakes, gabriel called out.

"wait! what can i call you?"

the man turned, slowly walking backwards.

'where there's a will, there's a way" he grinned as he walked away.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

@who-beingloved-ispoor @wouldyouknowmeblind @daggxrsanddrxamers @dark-artifices-only @wylans-flute @wabriel @darkshadowqueensrule @annoying-pieceof-trash

[afigurelikeadoll]

Musings

You can find the ao3 version of this fanfic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33606406 

A/N: Hey guys! I know I don't have an excuse for being gone so long, but I hope you can understand. I'm working on the second chapter of the Champion Reading I, which should be coming out soon. But for now, here's this! Sorry if the writing is too formal for canon or if OOCness is happening, this was a creative writing assignment for ELA, but I (of course) turned it into a fanfic. The guy Harry talks about in this diary is supposed to be Ron, but if you want it to be someone else, it totally can be. Also, the poems in the middle are haikus that I also wrote for class. I hope you guys like them, because I worked really hard on them :)

Disclaimer: The poems are all originally created by me, and belong to me. Please don't take credit for them, or use them elsewhere. Or if you do, please at least credit me as the original author.

Trigger Warning: minor internalized homophobia at the end

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The Journal of Harry J. Potter

Please return to owner if lost.

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September 3, 1993,

I admire many things very deeply, though it might not seem so at first glance. My love can be as deep as my hatred. I find joy in soft, sweet melodies, as long as the musician is competent, as it isn’t so in today’s day and age. Colourful, three-dimensional works with much depth and layer are most pleasing to my eye, and are what I prefer to draw myself.

When I endeavour myself to this craft, I leave my finished works to dry along my bedside nightstand, along with the rest of my treasured memorabilia. The rest of the boys in my dorm know not to disturb me during the time that I draw. I know almost nothing about astrology, I can admit, but the stars and the planets fascinate me. Especially their movements and almost otherworldly beauty. I very much like to draw and paint about this subject.

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November 3, 1994,

Anguish in your flight

Ink blotting stains your letters

At last, blissful peace

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January 5, 1995

Yesterday has been too strange. I don’t find myself thinking often about him, but sometimes it seems as if he goes out of his way to distract me. I was standing near a window while the other boys at the gathering were laughing amongst themselves. I don’t have much of anything to say to people at social events, so I usually just remain silent.

My mind could only traverse back to our past conversations, to the sound of his laughter, and the almost odd sight of his pale complexion against my dark one. My heart flutters a bit, and I do not understand why. Once I get too deep in thought, he gently seizes my wrist and brings me into the circle with the others, and forces me to speak with them.

I cannot comprehend why he can’t just leave me be, but perhaps it has something to do with the strange feelings festering within the corners of our hearts, if he indeed does share them.

I suppose only time can tell with this one.

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February 14, 1995,

Winter nights bring cold

Warmth deep in your mocha eyes

Deep cold melts away

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July 6, 1995,

Some people say I am a bit too contemplative for their liking, and I suppose it is true. I find too many things saddening in this life. I cannot help it. One day I was taking a stroll along the park, when I found a child laughing with his mother. I felt sick with myself for doing so, but I felt a rage rise within me at the innocent sight.

What was it, that this child had done in his life, that did not grant me the same luxury? Fate, I suppose, chance. ‘Tis foolish. What is wrong with me, I ask, that makes me feel such a terrible emotion over something so bright and lovely in this world?

Perhaps it is me that is wrong and twisted.

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July 31, 1995,

Jerusalem bells

Praise be the divine angels

Please, save this tired soul

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August 5, 1995,

The summer sun is much too hot for my tastes. It is quite bothersome. Especially when I am trying to go for my daily stroll. I don’t exercise much, but I try to go on walks every day, to keep up my good figure. The weather was terribly humid, and all throughout the journey, I could feel myself sweating. It was very distasteful, and a feeling that I entirely loathe. I took a thorough shower once I arrived home.

To make matters worse, Aunt Petunia scolded me for leaving my dirty clothes on the laundry floor. I wished, not for the first and certainly not the last time, that it was school once more, so I could at last be away from home.

Yes, I truly hate summertime, with every fibre of my being.

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August 13, 1995,

Dear old grandmama

Your limp, gray hair is too tired

This burden of life

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August 30, 1995,

Today was surprisingly pleasant, especially for summertime. I had just finished freshening myself up for the day, when I noticed a lemon-scented note waiting for me on my dresser, with a single red rose on top of it. I was very pleased with my discovery. Roses are my favourite of all flowers, and the sweet smell was most welcome!

I opened the note, to find that it had been written by him. There was that strange fluttering in my heart again, that I didn’t like to ruminate on too deeply. After reading the beautiful note, in elegant print, I held it close to my heart and looked up at the ceiling in thought. I remained that way ‘till breakfast-time, as I pondered.

Perhaps summertime wasn’t all too horrid.  

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December 31, 1995,

My dear love, my life!

Beautiful angel of mine

Must you hurt me so?

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October 7, 1996,

The boys at my school are so juvenile! You would think they were still toddlers, with their lack of maturity. All they do is speak of girls, crack stupid jokes, pull pranks, and offend others. I am especially grateful now that I am above such things. I think it would be most loathsome to be of such a temperament. I almost pity my cousin, but he is too much of a nuisance to fully gain my sympathy.

Then again, I suppose I can attribute my sensibility to my queer ways. Were I a normal man, I do not doubt that I would not be nearly self-aware enough to come to such logical conclusions. But I suppose they are not completely worthless.

The other day, a boy asked me to come with him to the Fairfield Festival. I thought of him, and declined. Accepting would seem like a betrayal to his affections, as complicated as they may be.

Hopefully one day, I find a woman good enough to rouse my spirits as he does.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May 1, 1997,

Fiery are the flames

That douse the candle of life

O Lord, have mercy

[mwolf0epsilon]

Can you write a short dark fic for the pairing Joey x Henry, where after Henry threatens to leave the studio, Joey snaps and kidnaps Henry and turns Henry into a perfect Boris or Bendy so that Henry would never leave his side, please?

Summary: Joey Drew couldn't ever take 'No' for an answer, much less when it came from the object of his ill-fated obcession.

---

[[MORE]]

When brought into the world children were never inherently cruel. They were curious and blunt, which often resulted in uncomfortable situations for those they interacted with, but overall younglings were empathetic at heart until reshaped and redefined into something otherwise.

The world was a terrible influence after all, and it could marr even the purest of things.

There were exceptions to this rule however…

Joey Drew had certainly been a curious kid. Unabashedly blunt too, with how often his innocent words cut deep into both his parents and peers.

But not once did he empathise enough with others to be considered a kind child.

If anything, most others his age had steered clear from his company, finding the mellow kid with the great big toothy smile to be unsettling on an instinctive level. Children were, after all, capable of sensing evil. Even in its stages of infancy.

So imagine everyone's surprise (Joey's included) when Henry Stein decided to befriend the town's most infamous little black sheep.

Kind bleeding heart that he was, Henry had thought it unfair that others would judge another as strongly as they judged Joey, so he'd taken it upon himself to make the kid next door's life a little less lonesome.

Give him what he surely needed: A good and caring friend.

Needless to say, he regretted that decision more than anything in the world...

It hadn't always been so bad. Once Joey had actually been a friend to him, and cared enough to look after Henry when he'd most needed.

Now however? Now Henry could barely recognize the monster behind that unnerving grin...

The burning selfish desires in those sapphire blues, hidden behind an half-lidded expression that was reserved to feign a serene and caring persona…

As charming and handsome as Joey looked (because he'd always been unnaturally pretty, even when going through the awkward stages of puberty), Henry couldn't help find his apathetic and selfish nature abominably hideous.

Especially now as he brought him the results of yet another failed experiment.

"I'm getting closer dear friend." He held the snapping, snarling little beast at arm's length, this failed mockery of Edgar barely looking like the adorable cartoon spider he was meant to be. "Soon I'll be able to make you perfect, and then we'll be back together as the dynamic duo we always were..."

Henry shuddered at the thought, tightly curling in on himself as he watched Joey end the poor creature's miserable existence. His bowl where his meals were served clattering loudly, as the inky heart of the slain critter was tossed onto it with precision. A mimicry of flesh thumping against the metal with a wet splat.

He fought back the urge to cry as he felt his mouth water.

"Eat up my loyal wolf… We can't be wasteful." Joey's cruel smile almost ruined his appetite. Almost. "Don't worry, this wasn't anyone you knew…"

With that said, Joey left him to greedily consume the offering.

Looking in the bowl's reflective surface once he'd licked it clean, Henry found that he could barely recognize himself anymore.

His stretched out face progressively becoming less and less humanoid as he was fed the experimental failures of Joey's horrid machine, and his pale hair having long since turned black and begun to spread.

He looked like what one would envision Boris the Wolf to look like in some lovecraftian fever dream. Dressed in ill-fitting ripped clothing, and barely able to balance a pair of cracked glasses on the bridge of his elongated nose.

An inhuman beast that fed off of the misfortune of others, losing his humanity as time passed on by.

He wondered if he'd forget himself eventually. If he'd forget that the devil in disguise that was Joey Drew was to blame for his malformations.

If one day he'd actually grow to love his captor in the same manner that Stolkholm syndrome victims tended to do, once brainwashed into submission by their abusers?

Another shudder forced a garbled whimper out of his deformed face.

To whatever god that could hear his broken pleas, he sure hoped not.

Henry didn't want to give Joey what he wanted.

Not when that monster of a man had taken him away from his family to keep as some sort of freak show pet.

Playing some sick version of house with the "puppy" he sustained on a cannibalistic diet. Disgusting.

Curling up, Henry cried himself to sleep. Thinking of his wife and children.

Missing them terribly while locked up in the bowels of Joey's demented studio.

-

The Ink Demon wasn't bad company, Henry had found. It seemed to understand his pain on a level no other creature did, offering him what little compassion it could whenever Joey dropped by with more "food".

It feared and loathed that devil of a man just as much as Henry did, and it knew to be kind despite never once being treated with the same sort of respect.

The one positive of this odd kinship between the two, was that Joey seemed pleased by them forming the sort of bond Bendy and Boris had. Thus never getting in between their interactions.

"One day soon, it'll all be just as I envisioned." He'd purr as he pinned the bound inky wolf to the ground, touching Henry in a way that made him want to gag, and rip the rat bastard's throat out with his horrific set of doggish teeth. "Just a little more and you'll be perfect."

He didn't want to be perfect.

All Henry wanted was to kill Joey Drew and go home.

"But first, I have a surprise for you." A surprise that came right after this twisted display of "affection". This gross invasion of the abominable wolf's personal bubble.

Joey presented him with an absolutely Perfect Boris.

Overalls, pie cut eyes, soft velvety fuzz and all… no signs of dripping or asymmetrical proportions.

The terror in those eyes however… it was all too human.

"I told you I'd find a way to reach perfection. Once I've finished tweaking the process you'll be just as perfect as him… Maybe more." Joey purred. "I miss your voice after all, dearest friend. Until then I give you this fearful pup to do with as you wish."

Upon his tormentor's departure, the cartoon wolf scrambled away from Henry. Shaking like a leaf and whining pitifully.

A child, Joey had converted a child…

Hell hath no fury like the righteous rage of a scorned father.

That bastard would pay for all he'd done!

But first, the large and deformed beast that was Henry Stein carefully scooted over to the shaking Boris clone and comforted him as best he could.

He'd protect this poor pup, no matter what.

The Ink Demon seemed to be in favour of extending that same grace, although it did still go for the kill when the less than agreeable ink monsters came around looking for trouble.

-

Buddy's transformation had certainly enraged him when Joey presented the poor boy to him. Sammy's and Norman's fates however were the last straw to break the camel's back.

Most of the people that worked at the studio were strangers to Henry, but the young musician and the oddball projectionist had been friends to him.

With every stranger's heart he consumed, the large beast of a wolf grew more and more restless. The revulsion he felt when looking upon Joey growing into an all consuming desire to violently murder his captor.

When a faceless ink creature wearing only suspenders and a Bendy mask came in one day to bring him his meal however…

"My lord wishes me to feed you, oh Great Lupine... Abyssal Hunger of the Ink's Abyss…" The body shape wasn't one he recognized. The slight arch to the creature's legs a bit strange to look at, and the four fingered hands an indication that something strange had definitely come to pass in this poor madman's transition into his current state. But that voice…

"Shhh...Shhaaammiieeee…?" His voice had returned as a dissonant mess, one that was not fit for a gross mockery of a muzzle like his own.

"Is… Is that my name, oh Hungry One?" There was both fear and hope in his voice. That in itself made something twinge painfully in Henry's chest. "I… Yes, yes that is my name isn't it? Sammy… I… oh thank you kindly, Benevolent Wolf. Please, feast upon your meal. I have worked hard to acquire it in the name of our Lord, your most wonderous companion."

What had Joey done to Sammy Lawrence, the proud music director that had more than half the mind this mindless drone had? Good heavens, what had he done that completely broke the poor kid?!

Rather than voice his horror, Henry did as he was told. After all the more he ate, the more his gluttonous appetite grew… as did this horrid body he was stuck with.

Abyssal hunger indeed…

He forgot what shame tasted like, but not mercy.

As selfish as it may be, he did request one thing.

"It is as you wish, oh Hungry One… I shall protect all pups that enter my lair." The Prophet bowed once, twice and then trice as he took Buddy by the hand. "Another horror skulks in the darkness, wearing an Angel's face. She hunts wolves, for fun. I shall show them your mercy."

He trusted that Sammy would keep his word. He was as stubborn as they could get, after all, and did not back off from a challenge very easily.

Henry would miss Buddy's company though.

That particular encounter was bad on a moral level, but it did turn out alright in the end. When the Projectionist was presented to him as a play thing however, Henry had begun to crack. No one deserves such a horrible fate as to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Norman had once carried a world of unimaginable knowledge on his back.

Now he only had the painful weight of a projector on his neck, and the volatile temper of a mindless beast.

The deformed wolf had done his best to gain the creature's trust, but it feared being attacked far too much to let a nearly 20 foot inky monstrosity near itself.

Self preservation hadn't completely left the Projectionist it seemed.

He'd let it go, hoping doing so would be a sign of good will on its own.

And then when he'd been once again left alone, Henry continued to stew in his anger. Talked himself into showing a rarer more violent side on Joey's next visit.

Even tried to fight back against him the next when he tried to touch him.

This was a losing battle however… After all, Joey Drew couldn't ever take 'No' for an answer, much less when it came from the object of his ill-fated obsessions.

Henry Stein just so happened to be his biggest obsession. Even as this horrifically imperfect monster that only an equally horrific demon could ever hope to understand.

[sawdustandgin]

A Year of Happiness, Joy and Sarcasm: My 2020 in Review

Absolutely nothing needs to be said about the year of our lord 2020 that hasn’t already been shouted from every social media platform like a shrieking alarm alerting us that the ship is sinking. We know. We’re all wet. 

I will not remember 2020 as mask-clad because I didn’t take any photos while wearing one. 

Every December, I reflect on the year through a short essay, allowing myself many opportunities to gush about the music that I didn’t include on my best-of lists but that I still loved dearly. (Though I guess I skipped last year. I found an abandoned draft the other day…) And consistently, I have regarded each year as one of transition. 

I don’t have clear career aspirations outside of wanting to engage with music as deeply and personally as I can; my only concrete life plan is to profile small towns across the country through the lens of its local music scene. So, with this nebulous image of a future endeavor, I have had a tumultuous time with money since losing my job two years ago. I realized fairly quickly, after only a few months of foundering at it, that I was unable to freelance my way to a liveable income. And in all honesty, this was for the best—nothing hurts worse than realizing the activity you are most passionate about has become a chore. I stopped worrying about pitching editors and trying to rub elbows, and I got to work applying for jobs. I, incredibly luckily, secured one after a few more months. The adjustment to being unemployed was a leap for me and my deep desire for a routine, but the adjustment to being employed and trying to maintain a balance between day job and side gig was even harder. 

Then I loosened up a bit. Toward the end of last year, I tried to make a vow to be more consistent with the blog, but instead, I prioritized sleep. At the time, I didn’t realize that it was an either/or scenario and probably would have made a greater effort to avoid my television if I had. But ultimately, I had to accept that my relationship with music journalism was on my terms. And regardless of how [in]frequently I ‘discovered’ new artists (for myself), I wasn’t ‘missing out’ on anything. 

And let’s be real, I wasn’t overly eager to listen to new stuff starting around April. I put so much energy into not losing myself in quarantine that I tuckered myself out before shit really hit the ceiling. When I began thinking toward my year-end lists in November, I began to worry that this would be my most deflated best-of season in recent memory. 

That’s ok, Zoë, no one really cares about top ten lists, I can hear you thinking, colored by a fascination with my determination. But as a double cancer and pisces moon, I like to cling to the art that moves my soul (read: ~nostalgia~). And so I take great joy in spending all of December and most of January repeatedly listening to my favorite music until I conjure a partially arbitrary ranking system and create playlists galore. It really is the best time of the year. 

Of course, there are always a few titles that need no additional spins, whether due to automatic disqualification or simply because I listened so much that I know it intimately. The automatic disqualifications this year were particularly striking. 

A few easy omissions were Chromatica, Positions, and Fetch the Bolt Cutters. Lady Gaga delivered her skip-less album around the time when it became clear that the pandemic was not even somewhat close to containment; my roommate and I cooked to Chromatica every night, singing along to every word. With each new record, Ariana Grande becomes a more graceful songwriter, and it also helps that Positions is a plain ol', boot-knockin’ good time. And the raw power Fiona Apple wields in Fetch the Bolt Cutters would be frightening were she not the perfect vessel to deliver it to us. 

Then there is the category of albums that simply didn’t need my (albeit dim) spotlight: Set My Heart on Fire Immediately, græ, and KicK i are each masterpieces in their own right. They each move purposefully through diverse landscapes, each song a new adventure not bound by genre or expectation. Interestingly, Perfume Genius and Moses Sumney were never mainstays in my music rotation, while my love for Arca is unquestioned. 

That leads us to Re-Animator, I’m Your Empress Of and The Mosaic of Transformation, all of which I actively feel bad for disqualifying. I’m too much of a fan of Everything Everything to impartially write about their new album, though it was one of my most frequently played. I have been writing best-of lists for six years now and I would prefer to write about a constantly expanding, diverse group of artists. That means I can’t keep doting on Empress Of, despite her status as one of our best contemporary artists. Me and Us were truly just prelude to her 2020 record, whose title is a formal introduction. Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith is also the most talented analog synth musician that I personally have ever engaged with, and her latest album is everything I could have wanted.  

It took some self-control (aka strict time management) to not write a few thousand words about The Ascension. Let’s recall my massive thesis on Carrie & Lowell… Yes, I am a former Catholic who thrives in the ambiguous invocation of Scripture, especially from a songwriter who quite literally shaped my taste in music. Luckily, I’m not nearly as pent up with anger and existential dread as in 2015 when I was, for the first time, processing the physical and emotional distance from my family. This elongated emotional breakdown was spurred by drama between my parents, but was also due to an irrational fear I held about my own mother’s death. Listening to Sufjan Stevens forgive his mother on her figurative deathbed has stayed with me. 

The anxiety I felt about 2020 was almost entirely external, so the gorge formed from the current of The Ascension was not nearly as deep a canyon in my heart as C&L, though it is still an affecting 80-minute journey. Stevens’ production, when coupled with his lyricism, is a breakthrough, though I do hear murmurs of folktronica from earlier in the decade. (I’m begging everyone to listen to Under Our Beds by Consilience.) And for perhaps the first time, there were songs that I occasionally skip. If I still had to commute to work, I bet they would have grown on me. In fact, this would have been a perfect driving album—one that wouldn’t cause me to weep while on the interstate. (oh Carrie. oh Lowell.)

Then there was VOL.II by my dear friend Lauren Ruth Ward. She gave me an opportunity to write a unique interview with her about the record to be printed on the inside of the gatefold, making it a permanent fixture on this most exciting of sophomore albums. I could not justify writing anything more about it, if only to preserve the sanctity of that interview, which I gave more effort and attention than any other piece of writing I had done. It was a wonderful and inspiring experience that I hope to replicate. The most heartbreaking part of the pandemic’s onset, from a social perspective, was not being able to visit Lauren after the record was released. 

With all that said, 2020 was about so much more than the music I listened to. All the digital replacements for physical intimacy during lockdown made me realize that my legacy (aka all my music writing) is fragile, locked into the impermanence of the internet. So I took it upon myself to build a physical archive; in the fall, I finalized a zine template, and the first eight issues are in the can. (So far, I have 19 zines planned. Email me if you are interested in having one!) 

I’ve also been living without a front tooth since mid-March. On one hand, it’s been convenient to wear a mask to hide the hole in my mouth, but on the other hand, all I want to do is bite into an apple. (For almost two years before I even knew I had to have my tooth removed, I had been forced to slice apples before being able to eat them. The abject humiliation.) The journey with my dentists and oral surgeon has been excruciating, to say the least. Who knew three people in the same medical practice could have such mightily different styles of care? [Author’s note: I got my crown after writing this essay! :grinning-emoji:]

In sum, it was my image of myself that I was able to see a bit clearer this year. Each year I think that I’ve figured something else out about myself, which had always led me to believe that I am a most-complex, divine being. But I think a more accurate interpretation is that, put simply, I am not static. My thoughts and emotions adapt to life and life doesn’t seem to stop throwing me around like sneakers in a tumbling dryer. My pronouns are now they/them and while I don’t have many specifics as to why, I just know that this feels right. 

I hope your year was at least acceptable; 2021 promises a host of new challenges, but I think we can take ‘em. 

[bookmovieaddictee]

Moon Over Soho (Rivers of London #2)

BODY AND SOUL The song. That’s what London constable and sorcerer’s apprentice Peter Grant first notices when he examines the corpse of Cyrus Wilkins, part-time jazz drummer and full-time accountant, who dropped dead of a heart attack while playing a gig at Soho’s 606 Club. The notes of the old jazz standard are rising from the body—a sure sign that something about the man’s death was not at all natural but instead supernatural. Body and soul—they’re also what Peter will risk as he investigates a pattern of similar deaths in and around Soho. With the help of his superior officer, Detective Chief Inspector Thomas Nightingale, the last registered wizard in England, and the assistance of beautiful jazz aficionado Simone Fitzwilliam, Peter will uncover a deadly magical menace—one that leads right to his own doorstep and to the squandered promise of a young jazz musician: a talented trumpet player named Richard “Lord” Grant—otherwise known as Peter’s dear old dad.

  ★ ★ ★ ★ 

Ah, at last Peter’s thirst is satisfied. That’s the only thing I could think of when he *spoiler alert* starts fucking Simone. I liked this story a little less than the first, even though the mystery was arguably more cohesive than RoL, if only because I had pegged the twist the minute jazz vampires were theorized. But I love the character development; there are scenes here that just build everyone up and give you an old fashioned beat down in the feels. Peter? Feels. His parents? FEELS. Nightingale? Good God, I didn’t know I had that many feels left. 

Overall, the mystery of the second book ended up being less memorable than the first-- on this reread (something like the third time since I first read it when it was released), I remembered so little, compared to how much I can recall of Broken Homes and Rivers of London.

The beginning is an easy read if only for the peanut gallery of jazz musicians. It drags in the middle (especially the sex scenes) but holy shit does the end make up for it. The end is just non-stop action. 

Aaronovitch has a way of meticulously describing action scenes; it speeds up and slows down the scene at the same time. You can read a 25 page description of a 3 minute chase and feel every heart-pounding moment of dread. Brilliant. 

And the ending? A touch of horror, and a realistic reaction to it. The introduction to the greater scope villain of the series has me hype all over again. 

I had the great fortune of listening to the audiobook and god do I love Kobna Holdbrook-Smith. He has such a diverse skillset when it comes to voice-acting, every character’s voice is incredibly distinct, and certain scenes...the emotion he expertly coveys can near bring me to tears.  

[dailyaudiobible]

12/18/2020 DAB Transcript

Habakkuk 1:1-3:19, Revelation 9:1-21, Psalms 137:1-9, Proverbs 30:10

Today is the 18th day of December welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian and it's great to be here with you today as we continue the journey step-by-step day by day. Moment by moment together we move through the Scriptures. And it's not a secret that we’ve been moving rapidly through the Scriptures because we’re encountering shorter texts within the Scriptures. Today is no different. We got a brand-new book in front of us. And this one is called Habakkuk and we will read Habakkuk in its entirety today.

Introduction to the book of Habakkuk:

It's the eighth of the minor prophets. And who Habakkuk was is pretty well unknown. Maybe we know less about Habakkuk than we do any of the other writers in the Bible. Nahum, we didn't know much about him when we read that yesterday, but we did have some…some time…like we could locate him in time because of some specific references. Of course, me saying we’re not really exactly sure who Habakkuk was, that's like not new. People have been wondering, figuring, having traditions about a Habakkuk for centuries, even millennia. There’s a Jewish tradition that speaks of Habakkuk as is the son of a Shunamite woman who was resurrected through Elisha. And that stories found in the book of second Kings. Of course, Habakkuk’s not named in that story. So, it's a tradition. There’s other traditions, like fantastic traditions, one that’s found in the up apocryphal book “Bell and the Dragon” that talks about Habakkuk with Daniel while he was in the Lion’s den. But like I said, these are traditions, they may be long-running traditions, but they’re traditions and most scholars, especially with, like “Bell in the Dragon” find…find a story like that to be maybe be legendary. Nevertheless, many verses that are found in Habakkuk are famous. Maybe the most famous will be like Habakkuk 2:4 “but the righteous will live by their faithfulness to God.” That might sound familiar – “the righteous will live by faith” - is like a mainstay quote from the apostle Paul in his writings. It's also in…in the book of Hebrews. It's a core theme in the Christian faith. And scholars have noticed that…that the book itself, the text itself is sort of lyrical in form and definitely has a Psalm or hymn at the end, which leads some to think maybe Habakkuk was a temple musician, possibly. But basically, the book of Habakkuk is a conversation between the prophet Habakkuk and God, and it begins at a place of doubt. Habakkuk is saying out loud the things that he’s seeing, and they are leading him to doubt. He wants to know why God continues to allow evil to exist and to continue forward almost like he…he’s indifferent to it. And then God responds by saying the Babylonians are gonna come punish His own people, which leaves Habakkuk confused even more. Not sure, he’s perplexed. And then God reveals the Babylonians will punish His people and the Babylonians will be punished. Evil will be destroyed in the end. That's the goal. And, so, Habakkuk begins to realize that God’s not indifferent, he’s not unaware. He has His will. He will continue to move His plan forward. He is a God of justice. And Habakkuk ends up moving into a place of worship. And, so, Habakkuk has three chapters, and we will read them all now starting with chapter 1.

Prayer:

Father we thank You for Your word and another day to spend together in Your word. And we thank You for Habakkuk, a book that we read in its entirety today, one that shows us a movement from frustration and confusion to worship when we understand fully that You’re not aloof. You’re very, very much paying attention to what's going on and You are in control. We lose sight of that when we judge that it doesn't look like that, when we deem that it doesn't look like that anymore. And, so, we have these questions and these frustrations and then when we can settle into the fact that You are good, You are present, You are the most-high God, You are the all-powerful one and You are our Father. When that context takes hold again, when our actual reality reasserts itself than we, our spirits are again turned toward worship. What else can we do? There is none higher than You. There is nothing else to give our hearts to in worship. There is no other place to put our hope. And, so, our hope is in You and You alone. Come Holy Spirit, lead us forward in truth we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, that is indeed home base and its where you find out what’s going on around here. And what else is going on…on besides Christmas time. We are getting very close are we not? We’re going to go through this weekend and then it’s gonna be Christmas week. How did it get here so quickly? Are we ready? Is everything done? All these things are swirling through our minds at Christmas and those things can kind of cover over what we’re really looking for underneath it all, which is hope for the arrival of the Savior.

So, I mentioned yesterday, we released a new single “O Holy Night” performed by Jill my wife and we’re just releasing it into all of the flurry of activity and festivity that goes on at this time, these moments, these days before Christmas comes. The words to that song are timeless and they root us back to that story underneath it all. Yes, this is joyous. Yes, there's a lot of chaos involved in Christmas, but underneath it all there is “oh holy night the stars are brightly shining it is the night of dear Saviors birth.” So, you can stream that on Spotify, or Apple music, or YouTube music or Google play, wherever, or you can buy it at any of these places as well and keep it a part of your permanent collection. Just look for Jill Parr. That's…well…that’s Jill’s maiden name, and that's what she was known of…known as before she was Jill Hardin. So, just look it up, “O Holy Night”, the single and enjoy. Listen to the words of that song and let it lead you deeper into the Christmas season.

The other thing we’ve been talking about is the Daily Audio Bible Shop. There are a number…there’s all kinds of stuff in the Daily Audio Bible Shop. Some stuff, yeah. If you’ve taken the 2020 journey, something to remember that journey. This has been an unforgettable year and we might want to forget it as quickly as possible, but we shouldn't because when we get some hindsight on this thing, we are going to see that we grew up all lot and it was time. We…we were…we were getting soft and pudgy, we were acting like a toddler, we were kicking and squirm…squirming, we were throwing our bottle down on the ground because things weren’t going our way. We were jumping up and down and throwing a fit.  And once and a while things come along and they tell you, “you know what? A new season is upon you. Whether you like it or not it's time to grow up.” And we have in so many ways. So, just to kind of remember that, that is important because…so that we don't have to do these lessons again, not that pandemics are going to be sent upon the earth every year, but so that those pathways that lead us to transformation and growth and growing up so that we can have learned the lesson no matter what the catalyst was, so that we could've learned what we needed to learn and pick up what we need to pick up and lay down what we needed to lay down and move forward stronger. So, there's the case for remembering. But there are number of resources in the Daily Audio Bible Shop that just…there just that kind of a thing, they’re commemorative things each year as we go through the Scriptures. So, check that out. There are number of unique gifts there for…yeah…for anyone in your life. So, check that out. We have basically the weekend and then that’ll be sort of the end of it because we've reached our threshold for shipping inside the United States and etc. etc. So, check out the Daily Audio Bible Shop and maybe that hard-to-find gift will be there.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com. There is a link on the homepage. I thank you with all of my heart, with all of my heart, with all of my gratitude for your partnership. Especially here as we’re ending the year. Thank you. Thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if that's your preference, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And if you have a prayer request or encouragement you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

This is Quiet Confidence from Virginia and ever since I got out of the mental hospital, I feel so lost. I’ve just been begging God to just please take me home because life seems so unbearable. It seems very unbearable. Every day is a struggle and I just need God to have mercy on my soul. I used to be so close to Him and I don’t know how I got to this place. But I need God to help me. The enemy keeps telling me I’m not a Christian, I’m not going to make it to heaven, but I ask God for forgiveness of my sins and that He would just please allow me to go home. My husband of 24 years has been trying to help me and I’ve been taking my medication, but I still struggle, and I really need God to deliver me. I don’t want to self-harm anymore, but I really need God to please just…just take me home. I just want it to be over because it’s a terrible feeling to feel lost every day. Lord Jesus please have mercy on my soul.

Hey this is holiday greeting from Justin in Colorado. I’ve walked with the Lord for several decades. I’ve been in the mission field. I’ve been on church staff. You know, all the things. But this year I purposed to work through the Bible in a…in a single year and I’ve just gotta say the Daily Audio Bible was such a huge gift. And consuming large volumes of Scripture every day has been transformational for me in the sense that I’ve got…I feel like I’ve gotten to know the Lord, His personality, just…just to know who He is, what He does, what He likes, what He doesn’t like. I…I feel a greater level of intimacy than I’ve ever felt even having quiet times and going a verse at a time every morning like I’ve done for years. So, this is been just a huge blessing to me. Thank you so much.

Hi yes this is Living by Grace. I don’t know if you can hear me clearly, but I just want to give a praise report. This is long overdue. Back about two years ago I called about my wife having some anxiety problems and since I called in maybe about a week and half afterwards really started see a marked change. And she was struggling even going to work and was really in a rough place. And I believe that God saw her through and helped use that situation to grow her closer to Him. And I just want to encourage anybody who is going through those things that I know is very real and I know that God has a plan for it and that He’s able to overcome whatever difficulty you’re going through. I’m a personal witness to it and I…I know that He has to continue to sustain her, sustain us in all that we do. But I just want to say thank you and thank the whole family, the Daily Audio Bible family for praying for us and just have a blessed day.

Hey, DABbers this is Katie in Kentucky. I just want to call and pray for all of you parents who are exhausted, whether you have a newborn who is not quite sleeping through the night like those two hour stretches that leave you just so tired or a parent of a four-year-old who wakes up in the middle of the night and won’t go back to sleep, those parents of teenagers who are out and trying to wait up for them or any of those parents who are just dealing with your children’s big feelings overall the Covid restrictions. I just want to pray for all of you. God lift up the parents, give them strength, give them energy that is just beyond anything that they can have on their own. Give them wisdom and the words to say to their kids as the kids are struggling. Give them peace. And God as much as possible, just give parents a good night’s sleep. In Jesus’ name. Amen. Love you DABbers. Bye.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible friends and family this is Granny Mary from Missouri. My best friend Vera has Covid and she’s in a coma on the ventilator in the hospital. She’s been in a coma for two weeks. They’re going to give her another week and try to decide. She’s got grandkids and a daughter. And would you please pray for her because, you know, it’s not easy for families who lose loved ones. She’s a wonderful Christian lady so, I know if God does take her home where she’s going, but the kids all need prayer, her grandkids and her daughter. So, thank you very much. God bless you all. Have a good day. Bye-bye.

[booklovingturtle]

Cardan’s *Special* Birthday Celebration

Y’ALL WANT A RISQUÉ JURDAN FIC?! Good, bc I did too so I wrote one a while ago and haven’t actually uploaded it.

It’s lengthy bc I can’t seem to really write short fics. I hope y’all like it!!

(No one is tagged on this one bc it is mature and I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable. As a rule of thumb, I won’t ever do tags on risqué fics but I will on others! If you would like to be tagged on future non-mature fics then let me know!)

Fiery light glittered warmly from the open window of the bedroom. The glowing orb of sunlight should have been sealed behind a pair thick curtain but the rulers of Elfhame had forgotten to draw them shut before the festival. In fact, Cardan and Jude should have been tightly wrapped under their duvet, not stumbling through the corridor to their room full of giggling laughter.

“Lord Eckten may never visit Elfhame again,” Jude’s words were hiccuped with fits of laughter.

The armed guard lining the walls stayed impassive as they passed by them. Cardan’s arm around her shoulders tightened to tuck Jude in closer to him. The billowing cape of his doublet cocooned around her. He was leaning against her and smelled of mist from the garden party. The long tail of her dress would sometimes get caught around his feet, almost sending them both down.

“I can’t imagine why not. Name another King would serenade him with a lyre as beautifully as I have!” His chin rose indignantly to defended his action. The Lord was so offended by said lyre playing that he stomped away from the garden where the party had been held.

“You held it upside down, Cardan. All of the notes where entirely wrong.” Jude couldn’t get the peculiar sounds the lyre had made when Cardan’s long fingers plucked at the strings clumsily out of her head. “You ‘dedicated’ a song to him but it was quite possibly the worst noise I’ve ever heard.”

Cardan’s mouth dropped in feign hurt. “I thought it was special. It was unique.”

“Yes, it was uniquely the worst sound on this earth. And that says a lot because I’ve been in battle. I would literally go back to war before listening to that again.”

They had reached their door and Jude swung it open, still shaking her head in horror. The lyre was had screeched like the dying.

“There is no good or bad when it comes art,” his chest puffed up with pride. He stood at the door and placed a hand over his heart. “Just the delivery of a message through a unique mean of expression.”

“If the message was ear-splitting pain through the unique mean of terrible lyre playing then your message was received. I just don’t think Lord Eckten was prepared for your level of deafening genius.”

Cardan shrugged trying to slam their door shut. He swayed on his feet when he did. Tonight had been a celebration of Cardan’s birthday. In honor of the special occasion, lords and ladies from all across their lands had been invited by the Master of Revels.

Thankfully, it had been years since Locke’s sadistic head held that title. In his place was a much kinder faerie who Cardan had met after their war with the Sea. The new Master could throw the most elaborate parties imaginable all while making sure that Jude and any other humans in attendance were safe.

Cardan’s birthday had been no different. There were musicians covered in his favorite color: glitter. The music flowed in and out of the instruments as if gods themselves had designed every note. The best part was that the melodies weren’t laced with glamors. Jude was able to enjoy the night alongside her King spinning and swaying in his arms. Round after round of food was served to her on porcelain platters that were fae-like in design but made completely of mortal-friendly ingredients. The night was almost perfect, save for the curious eyes courtiers who always seemed to watch her. They acted as though their human Queen was tittering at the edge of the grave and were hungrily waiting for her to fall. Luckily years of sitting on the throne had taught Jude to ignore their ridiculous stares. Cardan’s ebony eyes were the only ones she was interested in.

Those same eyes were glassy and full of happiness. He had helped himself to a few glasses of well-aged wine at the celebration and was now grinning at her widely. Jude was sober as usual. It was rare for her to partake in those kinds of festivities. The Queen was always surrounded by hoards of armed guards but she never felt comfortable enough to let the bottle take her witts. A glass or two here in celebration hut never enough to really feel the buzzing warmth of wine. 

Tonight he looked so much like the Cardan she had fallen in love with that it made Jude’s heart flutter unexpectedly. His sharp cheekbones were flushed an adorable pink. An iridescent powder has been swept over his eyelids, making them stand out. His stance was a little tilted and he swayed lightly on his feet. Even the way he carefully spoke each word to keep from slurring was reminiscent of how he had been before everything happened. Unlike before, his eyes were shadowed by the animosity of self-loathing. His smile was open, not sneering. He looked happy in the solitude of their bedroom. Happy and tired.

Jude’s smile widened. “Go and change, Cardan. Look at how late it is,” she gestured to the open curtains. “You’ll get your birthday present tomorrow after you’ve rested.”

Cardan’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “I’m very awake,” his tone was playful. “Tomorrow is the first night in a long time that we have all to ourselves. I’ll sleep in.”

She was just as excited to show him his present as he was to receive it. He looked distractingly beautiful tonight. The V-shaped opening of his crimson doublet dropped to his navel and opened out to show some of his bare chest. Black metal cuffs followed the point of his ears in an intricate design, making him look even more deadly. The crown rested on his brow, menacing as always with its cold gold metal. While he still looked young, his face had matured. The lines of his jaw were impossibly sharper and now decorated with stubble.  

She decided to give him a taste of what he was asking for. Jude took her time walking towards him and letting herself run a suggestive look over his body. One of her hands stroked the back of his neck lightly. Jude raised herself forward and took his pouted lip between her teeth. Cardan hissed in pleasure, hands snaking around her waist to pull her closer.

“Get changed and ready soon,” she spoke against his mouth. Her lips moved against his but she didn’t lean into his attempt to kiss her. She withdrew from his arms without another word, well aware of the way Cardan watched her retreat into her closet.

Weeks ago Jude asked Vivi to help her get a special outfit to celebrate this night. A full-body lace corset was hidden under an array of fine dresses. The black was thin enough nothing was entirely covered and hugged her curves just the way Cardan would love. She made quick work of wiping off the powders she had used for the party. Her hair was braided to the side and strung with white flowers but she picked them out, tossing them on the vanity before her. Just as she was finishing her final adjustments to her outfit, she heard the door of her closet open.

Cardan was leaning against the door frame, shirt fully unbuttoned and shoes discarded somewhere in the room behind him. His eyes darker immediately when she turned in surprise. A muscle in his jaw ticked and his voice had dropped ten octaves when he spoke.

“This is definitely a surprise.” His gaze was focused on Jude’s body. From the swell of her breasts to her toned legs. She could see how his eyes lingered on certain, less visible parts of her body. With just one look for him, she felt all those parts start to ache for more than his eyes to be on her.

But tonight wasn’t about her. It was about him. And he wasn’t supposed to be in her closet.

“What are you doing in here?” Jude’s hand came to rest at her waist. It only accentuated her waistline.

“I was going to my closet but I felt lonely on the way there. I thought maybe I could share yours for the night,” he took long strides to reach her as quickly as possible. His hands were immediately running down her sides, feeling every groove of her hips.

Jude’s breathing quickened. “Really?” was all she could say. His fingers danced over the lace and skimmed right under the hem of her corset.

He nodded, bringing his head down to meet the crook of her neck. “I can’t lie, remember?” His lips started to trace a path from her collarbone to the place where to corset began. “So believe me when I say that I don’t think I can wait to make it to the bedroom. I want you. Now.”

Fire coursed through the veins. Years of being with Cardan had not made the flames any smaller or feel any less intoxicating. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said against her skin. “And this,” he took the material between his teeth, “looks torturously good on you.”

She laughed. Jude had worried that as she got older, Cardan would grow tired of her body. The opposite was true. The more experience they got one another, the more difficult it was to keep from touching each other. Especially on nights like tonight when the music at court had them dancing so close together that not even air could pass between them.

His hand had started to worm past her naval reaches to push aside the lace between her legs. Jude came to herself just in time to squeeze her legs against her own desires.

“No,” she said breathlessly. “Tonight is about you. If you want to play in here then fine but I get to do the touching,” she placed a finger where his pulse hammered at his neck. Her fingers were slow as they felt along the exposed skin of his body. Cardan’s eyes had shut and his breathing quickened slightly.

“Are you in charge, Jude dear?” he asked between heavy breaths.

Jude replaced her hands with her mouth. She kissed the corners of his jaw, loving the way his stubble ticked her. “Yes, I am. I made you King. Tonight, I’m going to make you scream.”

A noise not entirely human came from deep in his chest. “Is that right?”

“Happy birthday, King Cardan,” she said in response to his question and got to work.

Her teeth and tongue made a path down the front of his shirt. She pulled his shirt all the way off and spun them so he was leaning against her vanity. Cardan groaned her name when she dropped in front of him. His bottoms were thrown to the side along with his shirt. Cardan stood before her, completely naked and eyes wide as he took him the sight of her kneeling at his feet.

She had gotten to know Cardan’s body very well over the last few years. Though Jude was inexperienced and scared the first few times they were together, now she was confident in her ability to play games with him. She kept her rhythm slow, no matter how many times he moaned her name or pulled on her hair. She was careful in how much pressure she applied, giving him just enough to have his knees buckles but not enough to let him have what he was begging for.

Just as he was ready to release, Jude stood, a smirk dancing on her features. Cardan’s fingers were digging into the dark wood of her vanity and he was staring at her in disbelief.

“You wicked, wicked Queen,” he said through labored breaths. His tails was swaying frantically behind him. She could tell that his body was ready for more so she let him have it.

“Wicked Queen,” she repeated playfully. “I think I like that.”

She kissed but much harder than before. She had been trying to poke his nerve’s earlier but now his body was more than ready for her. He tasted of sweet wine and unconditional love. His nails were clawing at the corset as she moved against him but didn’t quite position herself on him.

“You get to pick, Cardan. On or off?”

Cardan took one look at her body and answered with a quick, “On.”

She sat him on the little bench she used when getting dressed and placed herself directly on top of him. Only black, silky lace separated them. He rubbed her sensitive spot, watching with hungry eyes she moaned his name. He, too, knew how to make her squirm under his touch. It seemed like Cardan was looking for revenge but that would be later. Now he felt her body over the lace and found her center. Jude’s nails left marks down his arm as her body sung in pleasure. He wasn’t done there. Cardan’s teeth found her chest and once again, worked above the corset. Biting and licking, pulling and massaging until Jude was out of breath.

She was just as desperate as him so finally, she slid a finger in between her thighs. Jude pulled the lace aside and within seconds she couldn’t tell where Cardan began and she ended.

Every coupling was a little different. Some were fun and filled with laughter. Some were slow and sweet. Some were full of kind words and loving gestures. This time was hard and passionate. She gave as much as he took, moving forward against him. He shifted just enough to make her lose all sense of reality. He cried out her name and went still under her.

Jude’s body was limp with pleasure and she leaned into his chest. Cardan pushed aside her now sweaty hair to look at her scarlet face. The corset did little to keep her from feeling the heat of his skin.

“Wow,” he said against her temple. Minutes later, neither of them had moved from their seat. Cardan, it seemed, was still trying to recover. “That was...”

Jude couldn’t help but nod agreement.

Cardan’s voice has returned to normal. “This is by far the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

She laughed against his chest. “Sounds like I’m going to have to plan harder next year to beat this one.”

He lifted her face so he could look into her honey brown eyes. “Any day I get to spend with you is the best day ever.”

She gave him a gentle peck. “That’s disgustingly cliche.”

His smile brightened. “But you loved it.”

She shook her head. “Maybe I did. Doesn’t make it any less gross.”

His laughter filled the room and once again, the mortal Queen fell in love with her faerie King.

[cats-obsessions]

Mark Your Love in Ink Part 2

A Geraskier soulmates au

Part one - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Rating: T

Chapters: 2 of 5? 

Notes: I decided to split this up into 5 parts, but on ao3, I posted parts 2-4 in one chapter. So, if you want to read ahead, read on ao3

It turns out, Geralt can run from ‘fate’ but not Jaskier. Somehow, Jaskier worms his way into his life. Forcefully. And deeply. What he expects to be shared milkshakes and parted ways turns into Jaskier following him to the warehouse, determined to set his eyes on some monsters- lucky for them, the ‘monsters’ weren’t werewolves or noonwraiths like he had expected. Nope, they were elves. Angry elves that captured Geralt and Jaskier, bashed the starving artist’s guitar and kicked them both in the gut. Geralt was able to reason with them, and Jaskier was given a lute for his troubles, but he didn’t get any money for his troubles.

As the sun began to rise over the city, bright lights reflecting off of the buildings, they parted ways. The younger man smiled at Geralt with sunshine in his eyes and said “I’d offer you my number, but I suppose you already have it,” which was true- even if it weren’t on his body, Geralt’s had it memorized for years. He was surprised, though, when the musician added “This was fun. Let’s do it again sometime,” with a genuine warmth that told Geralt he wasn’t lying. He was sure that misadventure would have driven the boy away, but he didn’t seem deterred. If anything, he seemed more interested.

Geralt practically passed out once he got home, eager to sleep rather than focus on the situation. He was more alarmed to find the familiar number texting him once he awoke. How did he even get his number?

It didn’t seem to matter much. The next thing Geralt knows, he’s getting roped into going for coffee or drinks, then just hanging out doing things he’d never bothered spending time on before, like playing video games. Then, Jaskier starts showing up at his apartment whenever he wants. Geralt tried to argue, but Roach, his cat, loves Jaskier almost as much as she loves Geralt, which is odd considering she scratches up most strangers.

Every step of the way, he tries and tries to push back against this odd little human that seems set on getting close to him, and every battle he picks, he finds himself losing. When Jaskier starts following him to jobs, he knows he’s gone too far to turn back.

That he was not fond of, but Jaskier is the most persistent thing he’s ever met- like a weed. At first it was just local jobs, things he knew Jaskier could watch without getting in the way, but then he started following him on longer jobs. And, well it’s kind of nice to have someone to camp with, especially when he can convince the musician to stay at the camp while he hunts. He even proves to be useful once or twice. Six months later, Geralt finds himself with an intrusive friend with blurred lines and a lack of respect for personal space.

But it’s not bad, surprisingly.

Geralt finds himself smiling more. Jaskier is tactile and unafraid to show emotion in a way that’s almost frightening after so many years of being a loner. And Geralt, he puts up with it- at least that’s what he says. In reality, he does his best to keep his emotions from spilling out of ‘friends’ and toward something more.

Because he doesn’t believe in fate or destiny.

A soulmate bond is a social concept made up to explain magical connections that only go skin deep.

That’s all it is.

So, he doesn’t fall for Jaskier as if he could prove how fake Destiny is by refusing to feel.

--

Geralt hums some song that’s been stuck in his head for days- certainly not because the dumb musician had been playing it last time they saw each other. He’s cooking dinner one late evening when he hears his apartment door handle jiggle followed by several knocks. Does he really expect it to be unlocked for him all the time?

As soon as he unlocks the door, it’s being opened by the musician on the other side. He’s a little flushed and his hair is messy as he complains “If you gave me a key, this would be easier.”

“If I gave you a key, you’d never leave me alone.” Geralt rolls his eyes. “Did you bike here in the middle of the night?” he asks, noticing the helmet in one of his hands, a duffle bag in the other, and his lute thrown over his shoulder “and what’s all this?”

“My stuff- for our trip.” Jaskier answers as if it were obvious. He throws his bag down, slips off his shoes, and begins to make himself at home. Geralt watches as Jaskier moves to the living room, stopping to pet Roach on his way. The brown tabby shoves her head into Jaskier’s palm, meowing happily to greet him. Geralt does his best not to smile at the sight.

Their trip. Geralt had tried to convince him to sit this one out to no avail. It will be a week-long trip at the least- granted he can even find the beast. He got reports of a possible griffon terrorizing an isolated town a few days north of them. They’ll have to drive part way, then hike through the forests and camp there for however long it will take to find and defeat it. But Jaskier hasn’t seen a griffon yet, and he’s enamored with them- that’s probably Geralt’s fault, though.

“We don’t leave for two more days, Jaskier.” Geralt reminds him.

“It’s better to be prepared early, isn’t it?”

Geralt lets it go, turning back to his cooking. Jaskier can entertain himself if he’s so set on showing up unannounced. Though, Geralt throws an extra pork cutlet on the pan; the gods know the boy doesn’t eat enough real food.

He can hear the musician talking to Roach in the background. He’s almost surprised Jaskier hasn’t pestered him about his day yet. But, he doesn’t refrain from taking advantage of the momentary silence. With the meat on the pan, crackling and popping while it cooks, there’s nothing to do but wait. So, he pulls out his phone and scrolls mindlessly through the local news. He doesn’t care much for politics, but occasionally things will pop up that point to creatures, monsters, and jobs.

‘Local YouTuber Dies in Attempt to Catch Kikimora’

A dark figure can be seen in the background of what he assumes is a screen shot from the recording. “It’s an Ekimmara, you morons.” Geralt scoffs under his breath. Typical. Mankind has been chasing after monsters since the dawn of time. The widespread use of cameras only made things worse. He scrolls down further, and another headline pops out to him.

‘Local Dive Bar Found to be Drug Front: Shoot Out Between Owners Leaves Renters Evicted’

Also not terribly surprising; humans are always doing these kinds of things. Over his near century of a life, he’s seen more deaths from greed than monsters could ever cause. But, wait… he looks closer, picking up the details of the image provided. Isn’t that-

“Jaskier, what the fuck?” he barks, turning to face the man now sprawled out on his couch.

“What did I do?” he asks innocently, though the cringe he’s trying to hide tells the witcher he knows exactly what he did.

“You didn’t think to start with ‘Penellie’s had a shoot-out.’!?”

“Ah,” Jaskier starts uncomfortably. “Right- well, you know, it didn’t seem like the most important thing.” he looks down to fidget with his nails- a telltale nervous habit.

Geralt bites back his urge to press for more information “Are you okay?” He asks, finding himself out of his comfort zone.

“Of course! I’ve seen a lot worse.” Jaskier shrugs.

“Wait, were you there when it happened?”

“No, no, dear witcher. I was in my apartment. Apparently,” He starts with renewed energy, “the whole building has drugs in the walls! Those possums that were always making racket- Probably thugs shoving drug packets into our shared walls. I guess Penellie and James had a disagreement about how to split the funds. It wasn’t so much as a shoot out as shooting each other in the close confines of their office.” Jaskier makes a gun shape with his hand as he says it, pretending to shoot at Geralt. “Guess renting from your boss isn’t that good of an idea, huh?”

“Who woulda thunk.” Geralt murmurs flatly, remember the exact words ‘don’t rent from your boss’ coming out of his mouth when Jaskier moved to that dump six months ago. Of course, Jaskier was working as a bartender, and Geralt expected him to get fired and evicted in one go rather than an unknowing renter of drug lords. “They didn’t make you ID the bodies or anything, did they?” he pushes. He’s not sure why it matters to him.

“Oh, come on now. It’s very nice of you to think you have to protect my innocence, but like I said- I’ve seen worse. Specifically, I’ve seen you do much worse. You know, most people have never seen the intestines of anything much less helped dig a liver out of a cave troll or pull teeth from a foglet while brain matter is splattered around them. You’re quite lucky I’m so well adjusted.” Jaskier rambles, accentuating his words with wild gestures of his hands. Geralt ignores it, though.

“You’ve never seen me kill a human.”

“Well, you haven’t recently, right?” he says nonchalantly like he wouldn’t be bothered if the answer were yes.

Geralt shakes his head “Not supposed to, though I’m tempted often,” he grumbles, shooting Jaskier a glare. The musician sees the fondness behind it though and chuckles a little. Somehow, he seems to know Geralt’s only so exasperated because he cares- against his best efforts not to, of course.

Geralt finishes up in the kitchen and pops the caps off two beers, handing one to Jaskier along with a plate of food.

“Oh, thanks! You don’t have to, though,” Jaskier smiles, a little blush tinging his cheeks. Geralt pretends he doesn’t notice.

“Had extra,” he murmurs, shoving Jaskier’s feet off the couch so he can sit and eat as well. After a few bites of food and a long drink of beer, he finally asks “What now?”

“Well, the place across the street will probably have a drop in price,” Jaskier smirks.

“Seriously? Should live somewhere safer.”

“I would, but you know I can’t afford that… I suppose I could get a roommate” Jaskier says, biting his lip as he stares at Geralt.

The witcher grunts. He knows exactly what Jaskier is asking even without the words leaving his mouth.

“Come on, Geralt! It’d be fun!” He pesters “You live in a dump, too. Roach deserves better than this! Don’t you, Roachy?” he coos, the cat mewls at him as though she’s agreeing. Traitor. “We could afford something a bit nicer together. And I promise I won’t get in your way more than usual. No jam sessions late at night or early in the morning. I’ll even cook sometimes. Please… Unless, you want me to find some stranger from Craigslist to live with me… But hm, isn’t that how the Craigslist killer found his victims?”

Geralt grimaces. “No- he killed a masseuse he hired through craigslist.” Is Jaskier even old enough to remember when that happened?

“Ah, I thought he asked them on dates,” Jaskier muses.

“No, you’re thinking of the Grindr- no, the Tinder killer.”

“Ah, so Grindr is a safe app to find roommates with then?” Jaskier asks, tilting his head as if it were an innocent question; he bites his fork as if he were thinking- fucker even flutters his long eyelashes. Geralt does his very best not to stare at his over obvious flirting. He knows exactly what Jaskier is doing, yet that doesn’t seem to prevent it from working.

Geralt groans, pinching the bridge of his nose “Mac n’ cheese doesn’t count as cooking. No unannounced guests, and do not touch my swords when I’m gone.”

“Really?!”

“Don’t make me regret this, Pancratz.”

“Yes! You won’t- I promise.” Jaskier beams.

A silence falls over them while they eat before Jaskier pipes up again “Wanna watch the Monster from Brokilon? it’s the one with the Leshen!”

“Witchers don’t even know that much about Leshens; I can only assume what kinds of inaccuracies are in this movie.”

Jaskier smirks, “You can lecture me about it afterwards.”

It has become somewhat of a past time for Jaskier to find various old and horrible horror movies to force Geralt to watch. At first, he was simply curious if there was any truth in them, but once he found Geralt ranting about their atrocious and uneducated portrayals of even the simplest beasts, he seemed determined to put the witcher through more.

For some reason Geralt puts up with it. Jaskier usually ends up talking over it half the time anyways, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy having someone to share his monster facts with. There’s something that lights up in the musician’s eyes whenever they talk about creatures and adventures; he doesn’t shy away from it like other humans.

So, he hums contentedly as Jaskier sets up the movie. When it starts, Geralt rests his arm on the back of the couch as he always does. It’s not his fault if somewhere in the night, Jaskier scoots closer and closer until he’s pressed up against the witcher. He’s just like that. And if he falls asleep, his head drooping to rest on Geralt’s shoulder, the witcher only lets him because Jaskier’s had a rough day.

[roundness-n-radiance]

My darling @aphrodionysus tagged me in a get to know better tag. Everyone knows my second favourite activity is talking abount myself:

Favourite Colours: Baby colours, like baby pink, baby blue, baby purple and baby yellow especially yellow the kind of pastel colours commonly associated with spring and easter, but I also do love a good neon or deep purple.

Last Song I Listened To: Technically Cruise cause thats what was playing in the cafe before I went on my break.

Favourite Musicians: Oh boy here we go! In no particular order; Pup, Hozier, Trixie Mattel, Cavetown, Angèle, Cosmo Sheldrake, Loveleo, Lorde, The Front Bottoms, Harry Styles, Iron & Wine, Keaton Henson, Kehlani, Khalid, Lana Del Rey, Mike Shindoda, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Stromae and Stephane Legar

Favourite Song: my favourite song changes constantly, but one song I will never get tired of hearing is Uncle by Hello Emerson. Its so calming and sweet and sad at the same time and everyone should go listen right now.

Last Film I Watched: dear lord, the last film I watched was Delta Farce. Its so bad you should watch it immediately. The last good movie I watched was 1917 and muah it was exceptional.

Last TV Show I Watched: Peaky Blinders? I stopped watching like seven months ago cause I couldn’t focus long enough, but maybe with all my quarentine time I’ll continue the series.

Favourite OC: oh boy, I have so many I adore, but I think my favourites are my boy Milo and my main man Micheal from a story I’m in the process of writing. Neither of them have last names because I am very bad at coming up with last names and have put it on the back burner

Pets: Right now, a Huksy/German Shepard, an Irish Wolfhound and a theiving lil black cat

Sweet, Spicy or Savoury: depends what mood I’m in. Usually sweet and never spicy. Spicy hurts me

Sparkling Water, Tea or Coffee: Coffee, always. But sweeter coffee with a lot of milk, preferably iced or a latte.

I Tag: @friend-of-the-worms @edgy-fluffball @the-hopeful-r @themwolves

[niralamba]

tag game

Tagged by @lucy-sky , thank you, dear Lucy ;)

(Дорогая Люси, извини за задержку, я пыталась ответить развернуто, но tumblr дважды не сохранял мои черновики. Возможно в третий раз он позволит мне XD)

nickname: Loly

zodiac: Aries (the Ascendant in Virgo (If someone is interested in my ascendant)))

height: 167 cm 

last thing searched: trying to find if a pirate `Joker` appeared on the net

Favourite musicians: oh, this is terrible, but I can’t say. I have many musicians, of whom I love one or two songs. and it seems to me that over time, many just become obsolete for you (morally). I have most of the tracks related to some time and memories in it. listening to the track, you kind of cause this state. Unfortunately, in many periods of my life I do not want to return to my memories. so what I loved leaves me (и я тоже люблю Кино)

inscription on the meme: thousands of new and original songs; me and 20 of the same songs from 2011

song stuck in my head:  Balthazar - Bunker

if you had a time machine, would you go back in time or visit the future?

I'm not really sure I want to travel in time. I'd be more interested in parallel worlds XD

do I get asks: yess!!

following: 1312 (I would like to take this opportunity to thank my followers, especially those who write to me, for their support and motivation!)

amount of 💤: 7 hours 

would you rather be rich or famous? this is actually a tough question for me. I think that both are heavy burdens and trials. Of course, mоney is a good opportunity to make your life easier and realize many of your hopes, but what will you give in return for this? you may have to pay with freedom, nerve cells, pеаce of mind ... am I an idealist? muahaha!

lucky number: I don't believe in the action of lucky numbers, but I have numbers that haunt me (like 69 and 967)

what I’m wearing: jeans and sportswear in most cases

dream trip: Oh. I'm infected of the vagrancy virus. so I want to visit many places (except the jungle)

dream job: airplane or helicopter pilot!!!!

Favourite food: Italian cuisine. I do not know, they say still very good French cuisine, but I have not been to France and can not judge (although croissants are my great lоve... and  dеlicious croissants  I ate (hаha) in Vietnam, which was 300 years a French colony and has not lost the skills to French baking)

what are some of your favourite 📚/films/shows/games/etc?

now I'll think about what to call as the main XD so you can immediately determine what kind of jerk in front of you

📚 - Lord of the rings (yes, I am a committed tolkienist)

movies -  Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door (1997)

shows - GOT,  Stranger Things, Big bang theory, Vikings etc)))

games - I'm not a gamer, but in my youth I played Warcraft XD

if you were an animal, what would you be? a bird (probably predatory because pigeons annoy me with their stupidity) or a wild cаt or a dоlphin or a whаle, perhaps even a large beetle or a bumblebee - I think being an animal is very interesting because we are deprived of the sensitivity they have and instead we have been given reflection? Oh no!

play any instruments? no ((

languages: Russian and English (but not enough to make me sound confident)

describe yourself as aesthetics: ahem...  I can't describe myself. but say, that the, that you lоve - this and there is you)) so i describe, that I lоve: forest, grass heated by the sun, overnight stays in tents, bonfires, the sea coast, the feeling of delight when the plаne takes off from the runway, roadmovies in real life, the ruins of ancient cities, CASTLES and Gothic cathedrals, man-made gardens, fireplaces and stoves, plaids and copper utensils, books of fairy tales with brilliant illustrations, balconies, stairs, towers, high slopes and generally all large verticals and of course the mountains...I think I'll stop XD

I'm not tagging anyone because a lot of you played this game a year ago. thank you for your attention))