#He's seriously sunshine molded into a human being!

[lauraperfectinsanity]

BTS members in every MV

Hoseok version No More Dream (2013) - We Are Bulletproof pt. 2 (2013) - N.O (2013) - Boy in Luv (2014) - Just One Day (2014) - No More Dream (japanese - 2014) - Boy in Luv (japanese - 2014) - Danger (2014) - War of Hormone (2014) - Danger (japanese - 2014) - I Need U (2015) - For You (2015) - Dope (2015) - On Stage: Prologue (2015) - Run (2015) - I Need U (japanese - 2015) - Epilogue: Young Forever (2016) - Run (japanese - 2016) - Fire (2016) - Save Me (2016) - MAMA (2016) - Boy Meets Evil (2016) - Blood Sweat & Tears (2016) - Spring Day (2017) - Not Today (2017) - Blood Sweat & Tears (japanese - 2017) - DNA (2017) - MIC Drop (2017) - Daydream (2018) - Airplane (2018) - Euphoria (2018) - Fake Love (2018) - IDOL (2018) - Airplane pt. 2 (japanese - 2018) - Boy With Luv (2019) - Heartbeat (2019) - Lights (2019) - Chicken Noodle Soup (2019) - Make it Right (2019) - Outro: Ego (2020) - ON (2020) - ON Kinetic Manifesto Film (2020) - Black Swan (2020) - Stay Gold (2020) - Dynamite (2020) - Life Goes On (2020) - Film Out (2021) - Butter (2021) - Permission to Dance (2021) - My Universe (2021) - Yet to Come (2022) - MORE (2022) - Arson (2022) - Rush Hour (2022) - Yet to Come (Hyundai Version - 2022) - on the street (2023)

[gracethyomen]

“Vague Job Description”

Natalie is the paralegal that's been in love with Matt since she's known him.

Unbeknownst to her, Matt knows all too well how she feels about him, but tries to keep her at arms length to keep her safe.

When she starts to get dragged into the underbelly of hell's kitchen he calls home, some things can no longer remain hidden, and some emotions aren’t so easy to control.

Summary: It’s literally the pilot. First installments are always iffy just bear with me.

Warnings: Mention of death, mention of blood, mention of homicide, SO MUCH PINING. Matt being a human disaster, Natalie being a simp. Matt also being a simp but quieter. These two idiots can’t express their feelings for the life of them.

"Foggy." The automated voice on his phone droned. "Foggy. Foggy."

Matt sighed, reaching to accept the call before sitting up. "Hello?" He answered, yawning widely.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Foggy chirped from the other side of the line. The sounds of other peoples' footsteps and the general business of Hell's Kitchen coming with it.

"What time is it?" He fingered the silk fabric of his sheets, savoring the feeling between his fingertips. Far too happy to lay back down for the time being.

"Half past get the hell up," Foggy replied. "Let's go! We gotta meet the real estate agent in..." He paused, Matt assumed to check his watch. "45."

"Usually, Nat calls me when i'm late." He pointed out, effectively ignoring Foggy's instructions.

"Nat's not answering her phone. She's probably already finding stuff to do." Foggy rationalized, the sound of people talking now starting to overcome him. What he said was odd. Nat usually always picked up her phone, even when she was so hungover she sounded like she'd been hit by a train. "Must've stayed out too late."

"She tell you about any dates or something last night?" Matt pushed, feeling an unwelcome dart of worry run through him for a split second.

"Aw, Matt, you do care. I'll need to get that in writing and give it to Nat for her birthday. She might cry." Foggy said sarcastically. "Seriously, get moving. I've got to go bribe a cop."

"Ah, Foggy." Matt warned, standing up to grab his phone, wandering into his living room.

"Kidding, NSA, if you're listening. But really, yeah, I gotta bribe a cop."

Matt shook his head smiling, and started his morning routine.

"You've got a reception area, a conference room and two offices. Corner suite has a view of the Hudson..." Natalie was only partially listening to the real estate agent giving them a tour of the floor, her fingers clenching around her black folder she was holding to her neatly pressed pencil skirt. She looked around, pushing up her glasses as she ran her eyes over the yellowed molding on the floor, looking for loose nails or lifted floorboards. Anything a cane or a shoe might catch on.

"You can flip a coin with your partner for it." Susan joked, gesturing to Nat.

Natalie fought a flush as she spluttered a little. Holding up her hand and laughing awkwardly. "Oh, I'm not-"

"Uh, he can have the view." She heard a familiar voice and a creak of the door before turning to see Matt entering through the door. A small smile on his face.

Susan, the realtor, immediately widened her eyes. plastering a charming smile over her face. "I'm... So sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Matt smirked, standing just ahead of the door holding his cane. "Of course not."

Susan chuckled, taking a step forward and extending her hand for a shake. "Susan Harris. Midtown Property Solutions."

"Matt Murdock."

Susan seemed to realize her mistake and dropped her hand, choosing instead to do an odd knee-bend. Nat fought not to roll her eyes. Somehow Matt always found a way to make the gorgeous women in his vicinity turn into bumbling fools.

Foggy saved them both from the palpable awkwardness. "She just curtsied. It was adorable."

Matt chuckled, turning his head briefly to the floor. "Well, it's nice to know Chivalry isn't dead." Matt lifted his chin, turning his head in a way that Foggy recognized was him listening for something. "Natalie?"

She turned from the window with an audible, "Hmm?" Matt smiled just a little, turning to face the sound. The action causing her heart to flutter momentarily. She convinced herself over the years that she imagined it, but part of her leapt at the way he always seemed to smile when he recognized her presence nearby.

He lifted a hand, palm up, a silent request that she had become accustomed to at this point. She immediately walked from the side of the room to Matt, taking his rough hand in hers and guiding it to her side, where he instinctively curled his fingers at the spot where her bicep met her elbow. She tried not to shudder, like she always did, when he touched her skin. Hoping the goosebumps didn't feel as obvious as she dreaded.

"Susan, if we could continue with-" Natalie urged, looking briefly at Matt before turning back to the agent expectantly.

"Yes of course, my pleasure. As I was telling your associates, Mr. Murdock, this office was barely touched by the incident, which is why it's on the market already. The neighbors weren't so lucky."

Matt snickered softly. "'The incident'? Is that what we're calling it now."

Natalie scoffed. "Well, it sounds so much better than 'death and destruction raining from the sky, nearly wiping Hell's Kitchen off the map'." She murmured.

Matt laughed aloud. Something she didn't expect. "Shorter, too." He quipped. Making her smile.

Foggy crinkled his nose a little, pointing out the window. "Owner figuring in the delightful view of cranes and scaffolding?" He asked, eyeing the construction work outside distastefully. "Feels like we're getting pre-incident prices."

Susan flashed him a smile that was more teeth than anything. "They're a quarter of what they used to be. Hell's Kitchen's on the rebound, Mr. Nelson." She took a step closer to the group. "And in eighteen months you won't be able to rent a broom closet at this price point."

Matt squeezed her elbow, and she tried to tell herself that the touch was unconscious as he stated. "We'll take it."

Foggy snorted, looking quickly at Matt. "We will talk about it. Because we're not sure we can even afford this palace." He said pointedly.

Nat looked between Foggy and the man holding her arm. "Unless you both make some changes to your current clientele policy." She pointed out.

Matt nodded, turning to 'look' at the realtor. "My partner and I are having some disagreements over the direction of Nelson and Murdock." He clarified, his free hand fidgeting with the handle of his cane. "I believe we're here to defend the innocent."

Foggy sniffed, smiling with a strained expression. "And I believe the innocent includes everyone not yet convicted of a crime."

Natalie coughed, "You know, as the law states." Matt shook his head, not acknowledging her comment.

"He likes to use fancy terminology."

"And my partner fails to recognize that, as attorneys, we're never gonna be able to keep the lights on, waiting on a horde of innocent souls to stumble into our loving arms." Foggy sighed, exasperated.

Matt blew out a quiet breath. "At this point. I think i'd settle for just one."

"Foggy called to drag my ass out of bed this morning." Matt spoke into the quiet space. Natalie looked up from her new desk to see him standing in front of it. The suite only had two offices, and as they had decided Matt utilized her the most, she would share with him. Instead of his normal glasses she was met with his brown, unseeing eyes. Looking somewhere past her head.

"Sounds about right." She said, bending down to pick her little plant out of the cardboard box she'd put it in for the move. Along with the dainty watering can.

"Usually you call me." Matt continued, folding up his cane and placing his hand on the thin wood of her desk. She didn't respond. "And Foggy said you weren't answering the phone."

Natalie closed her eyes for a moment. "Did some meditating last night and forgot to turn it back on." Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth either. She did turn her phone off so she wouldn't be bothered. But not for meditating. And she didn't forget to turn it back on.

"Nat..." Matt murmured.

"Matt, I didn't get abducted. I don't see why you're so upset about this." She said testily, standing from her desk to connect her extension cord to the outlet.

She heard a soft sigh, and when she stood back up she saw Matt was rounding her desk to lean against it, next to her chair.

"You're not just my associate, you're my friend. It's normal for me to care about your well-being. Especially in Hell's Kitchen." He spoke mildly, but she could see his fingertips squeezing the lip of her desk.

Just like many times before, she was grateful Matt couldn't see her wince slightly at the word friend. She forced a laugh, but it sounded strained even to her own ears. "I'm touched, Matt, but i'm fine. Just a mix up."

"Natalie."

"Matthew." She countered, trying for a playful tone.

"I missed your call." He confessed quietly, and her heart lurched. A soft blush climbing high in her cheeks. It was moments like that that made it hard for her to go on blind dates. To text the barista who wrote his number on her coffee order. She was fucking pathetic...

"Also, it's really hard to find a good paralegal who is pleasant in conversation and can take notes in braille." Matt added, breaking some of the awkwardness. Nat laughed. Staring at her stupid little plant instead of the incredibly oblivious, gorgeous man leaning against her desk.

Foggy burst through the office door, phone still in hand and eyes bright. "We have a case!"

Matt raised his eyebrows, reaching to unfold his cane. "Since when?"

"Since that cop I bribed fell in love with me!" Foggy exclaimed, waving anxiously for them to follow him. "Come on, come on! Homicide! Suspect doesn't remember anything! Let's go!"

"Go where?" Natalie huffed, grabbing her notepad and folder as well as Matt's briefcase.

"Precinct two blocks west of here! Let's go!" Foggy urged, practically dragging Matt by the elbow out of the office.

The sight of a thin, blonde woman practically shriveling behind the metal table was the first thing Natalie noticed when she entered the room. The second was the metal cuffs digging harshly into her wrists. She immediately looked at the officer standing to her side.

"Can we please take the cuffs off the 110 pound suspect?" She gestured to the blonde. "Poor thing's literally shaking."

The detective who showed them to the room gave Natalie a strange look, then proceeded to look at Matt and Foggy skeptically.

"Miss Page, can you tell me who these men and their... associate, are?" The gruff man drawled, looking entirely displeased with the new arrivals.

"We're her lawyers." Matt said, before turning his head towards Nat. "This is Ms. Bishop. Uncuff our client and give us the room, please." Matt's tone left no room for disagreement, and Nat watched the officer free Miss Page.

"And a chair for Ms. Bishop, if you don't mind." Foggy added. Matt nodding at him gratefully.

The detective huffed but dragged one of the aluminum chairs loudly to the edge of the table. The four of them stood in awkward silence as the detectives left the room, the lock buzzing ominously as the door closed.

Matt wasted no time. "Ms. Page, my name is Matt Murdock. This is my partner, Foggy Nelson and-"

Ms. Page zeroed her gaze in on Natalie. "Are you a lawyer, too?"

Natalie cleared her throat, smiling nervously. "No, i'm, uh-"

"Paralegal." Matt said, at the exact moment Foggy said, "Assistant."

Ms. Page looked between all three of them confusedly. As Matt angled his head at Foggy for a moment, before lifting his chin back to where Ms. Page's voice was coming from.

"It's a... Wide job description at the moment." He clarified, before gesturing in the direction of the chairs. "Do you mind if we sit?"

Natalie watched her adjust in her seat, dropping her gaze.

Foggy tilted his head towards Matt, whisper-yelling in an effort to break the tension. "She gave a vague shrug, I say we go with it." Matt nodded and all three of them promptly sat in their respective chairs. Natalie took out the physical notebook to start writing things down.

"We understand you're in some trouble." Matt began, bracing his hands on the table. "We, uh, may be able to help."

Foggy also got right down to business. "Can you tell us what happened?" He held his hands out, "Why don't we start with what we know, then?" He sighed, searching the woman's blank face. "You were found in your apartment with one..." He checked the name on the report he'd been given. "Daniel fisher."

"Who appears to be the victim of a homicide," Matt continued. "And, currently, you're the only suspect, Ms. Page."

Ms. Page looked between the two of them incredulously, and Natalie noticed that not only did she have blood stains on her hands and forearms, but her eyes were also red and rubbed raw from crying.

"Who the hell are you guys?" She breathed, gripping her arms to her body tightly.

"I'm Matt, he's Foggy." Matt said; matter-of-fact. "She's Natalie." He nodded his head at Nat, who had been waiting for something important to be said.

"Who sent you?" Ms. Page continued her questioning, leaning her head forward just enough for her wheat-colored hair to fall forward in a curtain around her face.

"No one sent us." Matt reassured her. And almost before he could get the words out Ms. Page started to speak again.

"So, what?" She laughed humorlessly. "You're just a couple of Good Samaritans? Todays just my lucky day?"

Foggy chose this moment to say, "I bribed the desk sergeant with a box of cigars for his mom." As a way of explanation.

Matt took a classier approach. "Our practice is relatively young, Ms. Page, and we are aggressively pursuing new clientele." He sighed and turned to Foggy. "You gotta stop giving Bess cigars."

Foggy scoffed. "She likes to smoke, Matt. It's a free country."

Natalie watched as Ms. Page observed the exchange. Clearly at an impasse as to what was the right decision here. She swallowed hard. Looking between Natalie and the two lawyers.

"So..." She began. "How long have you been practicing law?"

Matt turned his head towards Natalie. "What time is it?" She and Foggy checked their watches at the same time but Natalie replied first.

"It's 12:22 AM." She murmured to Matt.

Matt cleared his throat and turned his head back towards Ms. Page, folding his hands neatly on the table. "About seven hours." He said firmly.

Nat scoffed quietly. "Well, if you go from when you passed the bar-"

Matt pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I was going from when we got our own desks."

Foggy nodded as if that was the most logical approach to the situation. "Oh, then, yeah. Seven hours." He turned back to Ms. Page with a proud smile. Natalie rolled her eyes with a faint smirk playing on her lips.

This was going to be a long night.

a/n: WHOO BOY this one is chunky. 2.5k words. I know this bit is kind of dull but I promise there’s more Nat and Matt next time. Getting a story going is incredibly boring sometimes. Thanks for reading! If you feel like it consider dropping a note or a follow for more of this story. Have a good day/night!

As always, special thanks to @abucketofweird for your support in this series. You’re currently the proud owner of the dedication for it. <3

- Sybil

[remidrawsstuffs]

AZIRAPHALE

This will be the first of the many rants I'll be posting about good omens, beware of spoilers and I will only reference the show and not the books as I have not read it yet.

Also disclaimer, These are what I picked up from the show and what I observed, but feel free to leave your thoughts and correct me if I missed something :3

ANYWAYS

Aziraphale is a literal ray of sunshine but he is a conflicted mess, I seriously see myself in him and I kin him so hard it hurts. Like, he's conflicted about how things can be good and bad at the same time, how something can be morally questionable but still be done with good intentions. Even after 6000 years, he still has some inkling of a black and white kind of thinking when it comes to doing things. He still thinks that there is a clear line of where good and evil lies, because of his religious trauma and people (angels and heaven) belittling him for all the things he did.

He strives to be the bigger person, he runs on being on a moral high ground and when he does something morally questionable, he tries to justify it, still trying to preserve that moral high ground that he's very proud of. But he meets crowley, someone who is, most of the time, morally questionable in some sense but still has some inkling of niceness in her. This is where Aziraphale gets more conflicted!

Think of aziraphale as a child who has been brainwashed and conditioned into thinking that everyone outside of their circle (angels and heaven) are evil or beneath them in some way. Aziraphale has been molded into thinking that if they aren't on the side of angels and God, they're demons and traitors.

Then, the start of the universe and earth came. the garden of eden and humans were made, and aziraphale had to guard the garden, along with adam and eve.

He had observed how humans are like since the very first creation and he has seen how the humans are influenced by the entities. But then comes crowley, the one who has been on earth as much as aziraphale has. He went through earth side by side with a demon. Someone who he has always been taught are bad people.

But he's surprised to see how caring crowley is, even if he acts somewhat rude, and how much he questions the morality in everything that heaven does. He sees her help humans, he sees him try to make only small demonic miracles and temptations and mischief because she loves the humans.

Aziraphale saw a demon care.

So, within the 6000 years they've been together, the people that they met, how they observed humans and how they have their own thoughts, how they have their own way of thinking, which in turn, changes aziraphale's perspective. Not everything is black and white anymore, it could be gray, not everyone is gonna always be on the white or light gray side of things all the time

But aziraphale is scared, he's scared that he's changing, that his mindset is changing. He scared that he's questioning the almighty and her plans, he's scared that what happen to crowley will happen to him, he's scared that he may be acting traitorous.

A little side note, people have been theorizing that crowley is a seraphim, which is the highest ranking angels who work just right under the almighty God.

So in ep 1 s2, he talks to crawley (now known as crowley) like he's excited, because it's a higher up (aziraphale is seen to treat the higher ups with utter respect, even if uncomfortable or how rude they can get)

He had a chance to work for someone who was only below God in authority and power. And he was estatic.

But he was skeptical, gobsmacked even, when he heard crawley complain and question why the universe is only going to run for 6000 years, and that's what scares aziraphale. Because he has the same curiosity and questions as crowley, but the only difference is that aziraphale doesn't ask those questions

He's terrified, because even a (theorized) seraphim was casted down to hell as a fallen angel for her questions. Aziraphale has trauma.

He's scared that he'll end up like crowley, and lose the moral high ground he so desperately clings on to.

Okay back on the main topic, he's scared that he's changing, he's terrified that he's going "native" as some of the angels and demons call it.

Aziraphale is scared that he'll be casted down after being tempted or interfering with the almighty's plan. He's terrified that he's slowly turning into something similar to crowley

So he clings to that moral high ground, but his grip is loosening. Specifically, I think it started during that time with the girl in the graveyard and her friend. He saw someone die because he let someone do something wrong. He started questioning how it was fair for the poor, how it was fair that someone gets an unfair life and untimely demise.

Then the conversation with the doctor and the story about the 7 year old who died because of a tumor. He questions how a child is punished so harshly, why they don't get a chance at life as much as everyone else does. He starts questioning if heaven is actually all that kind and holy.

Overtime, he realizes how heaven doesn't care about earth, especially during the beginning of Armageddon (that they stopped by the way). He realizes that heaven doesn't care, that they don't care about the conditions of the angel or the creations that they make. They don't care.

They only care that things are being done. Hell and heaven are like that. "as long as they get the paperwork, they don't care how it's done"

And going back to the time where aziraphale lied to the angels and stopping God's will, he fully expected that he was gonna be escorted to hell by crowley because he lied.

And going back to temptations, the first time aziraphale was tempted to eat food, it's like he lost all morals somewhat when it comes to food, it's like aziraphale wondered why they were told it was bad.

It's like.. when someone tells you not to eat candy then you ask why and they only answer "because I said so" that's the entire dynamic of heaven and their angels. They follow the rules, they don't question it, and when they do, they get guilt tripped. You can see it when aziraphale asks about why Job is being punished and tested even though he has stayed faithful to the almighty!

He asks why and he finds out it's a bet, to "test" job's loyalty. But that's where it gets messy, isn't a test the same as giving a temptation? Why was God trying to, in a way, tempt job into losing faith in her? Even though she designed and created the humans and is all knowing, wouldn't she have known that job would stay loyal?? That's where aziraphale also gets confused

But, because of how badly mistreated and very "scripted" the angels are when answering questions, aziraphale is forced to stomach and push down them down.

"Are you questioning the almighty's decisions?" Sounds a lot like "are you questioning the will of God?" When it comes from those overly religious people when you just want to get answers.

I saw a post that the reason why the angels have automated responses to questions, is because the higher ups themselves don't know, so to stay on that good moral standing, they give generic bland basic answers and a somewhat threatening question in return (I don't remember where I read this take, but I love it)

Aziraphale is a victim of being shunned and belittled to the point he tries so hard to be worthy of the position as an angel. He tries his best to hold on to that assurance that he is good and just, that he is still worthy of heaven.

He learns that people can be both good and bad but still be considered a nice person. And that new mindset is battling with his old mindset, making him question himself.

Crowley has always supported and assured him that he is still an angel, which helps him feel validated, the validation that he never got from heaven. Until the season 2 finale.

He was finally noticed. He was finally acknowledged by the angels, better yet, the metatron himself, who serves as the voice of the almighty, who can speak for God.

He feels extremely validated that even if he doesn't prefer coffee, he savors every single drop of validation from metatron like it's the last thing he'll ever recieve.

Because his efforts are finally being seen, by someone as high as the metatron himself, no less. And he wants to keep receiving that, and not only does he want to do that, but he also wants to take the things he learns on earth, to heaven. To make it better, to make it how it's supposed to be.

He wants equality for everyone, and at the same time, he wants to be validated so badly

But he can't leave crowley behind, so he asks her to come with him to heaven, to become an angel again, because he knows that other than him, crowley is the only person who cares about the earth and fairness.

But he can't have everything, and what's worse is that it's obvious he's being love bombed!

That validation will not last forever, it will gradually leave until he's far too deep into being the supreme archangel that he can't back down. He's trapped, he'll be trapped to search, long, and work for the validation he craved so much for 6000 years or even more

This is why i kin him so bad. The conflict between what's good and what's bad is horrible, because there's almost a transparent line that divides good and evil that it's so hard to differentiate

There's no certain answers of what is good and bad, sure some situations are but not all of them. An example is when aziraphale gave away his flaming sword to adam and eve because he thinks it's the right thing, but it was not in God's plan, so surely it was bad right?

He follows along this arc of questioning and still has a lot to go when it comes to his character development.

He is still a ball of sunshine, but that ball of sunshine burns himself with his moral battle

If you reached this far, thank you! I know some of that didn't make too much sense and I probably made some mistakes with info and stuff, but I would love to hear your opinion about this! I'll try and make a more coherent rant when I rewatch the show :3

[dsmutp]

Your c!slimecicle smut was so good I just have to ask for another one. Could you do a c!slimecicle x male reader that’s also a hybrid of something? Like maybe a hybrid like badboyhalo but only half demon. The reader is the only one willing to teach Charlie stuff and be patient with him.

If your not comfortable with male readers then you can change it to female ^^

yeah no probs dude - i myself am genderfluid so switching genders aint a problem

Old Slime, New Tricks (C!Slimecicle X Reader)

Las Nevadas was an odd bunch.

It seemed like Quackity had gone out of his way to collect the most eccentric of characters from around the SMP - a half creeper who happened to also be the warden of the prison, a little alien boy who hated everything and everyone, the fox son of the ex-president of L'Manburg, a literal god... the list went on.

Las Nevadas may have been an odd bunch, but as a half demon yourself, you fit right in.

In a constantly changing land plagued with wars, Las Nevadas was a welcome break from the constant battlefield anywhere else. Here, you could settle down, catch your breath - you even had time to get back to some of the hobbies you had enjoyed before everyone had started killing each other.

Hell, you had a real job here - and it was the easiest job you'd ever had.

When you'd first moved into the area, Quackity had all but shoved Charlie at you, assigning you both his babysitter and teacher. You had been a bit disgruntled at the responsibility at first, but even grudgingly you admitted it made sense. If anyone was going to be teaching someone how to be human, having someone that had had to learn human tendencies themselves was probably a good idea.

If you'd taught yourself how to be lean into your human side, you could teach a sentient slime man how to do it.

It helped that Charlie was eager to learn - his endless enthusiasm made the job kind of fun, actually. He was a ray of sunshine even on your bad days, and over time as you showed him the ropes of humanity, you had actually come to really like him.

Maybe too much, but that was a different story.

He had made great leaps and bounds as a student - he had learned basic interactions in almost no time, and he had stopped slipping up with motor functions so much anymore (it had been at least two weeks since the last time he'd forgotten how joints worked and bent his knees the wrong way).

Now, you were working on reading. You were sprawled out on one of the leather couches in the casino, reading over Charlie's shoulder as he read aloud.

"...voice low enough that it was more of a groll? Grawl? What does this one say?"

Were you teaching Charlie to read using pulpy erotica? Perhaps. It was really Quackity's fault though - it was all he had laying around the casino.

"Growl." You supplied.

Charlie blinked down at the page before looking over at you. "He's growling at her? Like an animal?"

You shrugged. "It's supposed to be sexy."

Charlie nodded slowly - confusion written plain on his face. "Right."

You shook your head, amused. "Charlie, do you get whats happening in the book right now?"

Charlie looked down at the open pages in his lap before he glanced back up to you, nodding. "He's going to kill her."

You laughed, pulling the book from him and holding it. "No, they're going to have sex."

"So he's not going to kill her?"

"Literally the opposite." You said, thumbing down the corner of the page you were on. "Do you remember how in the beginning of the book, she was saying how she was drawn to him?"

"Yup!"

"It's because she's attracted to him." You explained. "And since meeting him, she's gotten to know him some more now, and she thinks she loves him, right?"

"I remember that part, it was in chapter 11!" Charlie chimed in.

"So when two people love each other, they have sex." You said. "It's just something you do with someone you love a lot to make them feel really good."

"I see." Charlie said, a pensive look coming over his face. "Can we have sex then?"

You choked on air, eyes snapping over to him and away from the book. "Sorry?"

"You said people do it when they love each other." Charlie said with all seriousness. "And I love you very much, so can we have sex."

You blinked at him, taking in the genuinely questioning expression on his face. He was serious. He actually wanted to do this. And even though you knew you probably shouldn't, since you were basically a babysitter for him, you knew what you were going to say.

"Yeah, sure."

---

"Okay, so it's going to work a little differently then how it did in the book." You said, stripping your pants off so that you were fully naked.

Your clothes joined Charlie's on the floor, and you sat on the edge of the bed next to him, scanning over his skin. He was just as comfortable without his clothes as he was in them, and seemed plenty eager to get on with the actual activity.

"Since you and I are both in possession of dicks," You said, sliding a hand over Charlie's thigh to take him in your hand. "Obviously it's going to be a different arrangement."

In your hand, Charlie's slime rippled with excitement.

"Oh that's fucking weird."

"Sorry." Charlie said. "I didn't mean-"

"Didn't say it wasn't hot though." You finished, moving your hand to Charlie's chest to push him back onto the bed. Leaning down close to his ear, you whispered, "Do you mind if I do the fucking? I've been wanting to for a while now."

This time, Charlie's whole body rippled. "Yes please."

You took the opportunity to press downward, letting your hipbones meet his as you nosed along his neck, enjoying the way his skin actually moved to meet you. He gasped as you sank your teeth into his neck, leaving a love bite right on the slightly slimy skin. At this rate, he would be a puddle of slime by the time you were done.

Propping yourself up so that you hovered over him with one hand, you used the other to travel down his side, feeling as his skin moved and gave with the touch of a hand. "I probably won't even have to stretch you out..." You mused. "I could just slid right in if I wanted to..."

"Go for it man." Charlie said, the end of his sentence getting lost in a whimper as you lined yourself up and pushed in in one go.

As expected, there was no resistance - the slime only giving way and perfectly molding around you. You let out a shaky exhale as the feeling of it all rushed over you, tucking your face into Charlie's shoulder for a moment.

"This feels weird." Charlie said.

"Bad weird?"

"No?" Charlie replied. "It's kind of... nice."

You smiled, pressing a quick kiss over the mark you had left earlier. "You're going to love this next bit then."

You began to roll your hips, thrusting in and out of Charlie, listening to the squelch of the slime as it continued to mold around you even as you moved. It was perfect - squeezing around you without being too constricting, but dragging across every patch of skin as you moved, lighting up all your nerves.

You had only just started, and Charlie was already the best lay you'd ever had.

"Wow." Charlie gasped, fisting his hands into the sheets. "You were right- ah-"

He broke off into a soft moan as you picked up the pace, savoring the grind of your hips together. Moving from where you had your face pressed into his shoulder, you locked your lips together with his, silencing the moan halfway through with a kiss.

If the sweet drag against your cock kept up, you weren't going to last much longer. And judging by the way Charlie's skin was beginning to ripple under your touch again, neither was he.

You pounded into him for the last few thrusts until he was coming, his entire body giving into a fit of shudders as his skin rippled. It was the strangest sensation, feeling the rippling as he was wrapped around you, but it was what pushed you over the edge. You came with a groan, slumping forward to lay on Charlie's chest.

For a moment, it was quiet.

"So?" You asked.

"I would like to have sex again please."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Logically Speaking: Three

Each visit to a jail in a trek to start with but the process of getting in and out is fucking hellish. Things that hadn’t changed now that you’re a card-carrying superhero. You sit across the table from your mom and wait for her to talk.

She’s back on drugs again. How exactly they get drugs into jail you don’t want to think about, but you know that she is. Her pupils are fucking blown out and she’s twitching. “Need anything mom?” you ask finally. It takes her a few minutes to answer and when she does speak, it’s like she doesn’t even realize who she’s talking to. “Just another Margarita please.” You sigh and hang up the phone. She’s so fucking high she thinks she’s at a goddamn restaurant.

You leave without another word. There’s no point. If your mother ever did really love you, the stress and strain of having a sick kid and two other kids. The drugs and the violence had all sapped it away. Love was conditional. There was no such thing as loving someone for themselves. Or at least, not loving you for yourself. The drive back to the compound gives you time to think and dry your tears. None of the team had ever seen you cry and you wanted to keep it that way. You prefer not having your emotions used against you.

You slip into the tower and pause at an unfamiliar voice. Great. There’s another one. Just what your life needed. You take a deep breath and try to slip past, keeping your head down and moving quickly. You can’t handle anything else today. You need a shower. The jail always makes you feel disgusting. It smells of mold and unwashed bodies. Desperation and pain. It clings to you in a way you can’t ever quite explain. Not even to yourself. You make it to the elevator just barely. The doors are already closing when someone calls out to you. You really need to start carrying headphones with you at all times. Even if you aren't even listening to anything. It makes it a lot easier to ignore people. 

Thor looks after you wonderingly and Bucky smirks a little, “New recruit,” he explained, “Stopped a speeding train, leveled half a city block. Fury told her it was us or the raft.” Thor nods and frowns, The Raft is for terrorists. You don’t look like you fit the bill. “We stuck our foot in it,” Clint said with a sigh, “she’s currently doing her best to ignore us all. It’s easier than dealing with all of us being fucking assholes.” Thor nods, that made sense. You didn’t seem to be the kind to enjoy conflict. You looked like you were used to hiding. To getting quickly out of the way. “Has she got anyone she talks to?” he asked. You looked upset. Sad. Tired. The kind of tired that needed peace. Nat shrugs, “She’ll let me talk at her. Sometimes. Most of the time she doesn’t leave her room. She’s just kind of uncomfortable anywhere else.” Thor nods, “Perhaps I could get her out of her room,” he said shrugging, “I wasn’t here when you were all being... unfriendly.”

“You are a giant ray of sunshine,” Tony says with a snort, “But I think this is going to take more than a smile and a bone-crushing hug.” Thor smiled, “Indeed, but it’s worth a try.”

_________

In your room, after a shower and a change of clothes you still feel gross. You don’t want to be around people. At least not these people. You miss your people. Your found family that was all too afraid of you now to reach out. You just want to sit by a bonfire, drink your way through a case of cider, and eat food that doesn’t taste like plastic. You just want to go home but there is no such thing as home any more. That’s all gone. The one thing you had. The life you made for yourself out of the slag heap you were handed. The work you could do was gone. You weren’t a hero. You just weren’t. 

As you curled up in your bed and stared out the window you ignored the knock on your door. No training today. No prying. You just want to wallow and be sad for a while. No one wants you here. “Y/N,” Nat says quietly, “C ‘ mon, I know you’re there.” There was a pause and when there was no answer she sighed, “Look, Thor’s back from Asgard for a while so we’re going to go out tonight. Come with us?” You haul yourself off the bed slowly. The general ache in your body tells you your depression is hitting critical mass. Opening the door is hard and you have to lean on the wall. You’re fucking starving. Almost literally. It’s so hard to eat when nothing sounds good or tastes good. “No,” you say simply, “I really don’t want to.” She winces. You’re pale. Really pale and the puppy fat on your face is melting into angular cheekbones and a more defined jaw. She’s willing to bet your clothes are all too big too. You manipulate energy and it happens all the time whether you think about it or not. So your metabolism needs feeding. She nods, you don’t look like you could go out, even if you wanted to. “Thor really wants to meet you... I showed him the video of you throwing Steve around. He thought it was great.”

You nod. Betray nothing. No emotions. All she gets is a blank stare and Natasha wonders if your first words were 1,000-yard stare. And how you managed to be so bright and sharp working with your clients. How you pulled off the bubbly effervescence that had marked all your work when it was clear that you were being eaten alive. “Come downstairs and meet him at least,” Nat encouraged, “He’s like a giant alien labrador retriever puppy.” That description makes you smile a little. At least your lips twitch. You pull on a cardigan against the chill you felt and nod, not bothering to do anything with your hair. Or put on shoes. You’ll be running away again as soon as you can. Nat walks next to you and you try to master the anxiety in the pit of your stomach. Anxiety makes it hard to control your powers. Some of it is reflexive. You need to maintain control. In the commons, Bucky jerks his head towards where you’re standing with Natasha and Thor turns. He bounds over and goes to pull you into a hug. It’s a fraction of a second. Not even a whole moment but he found himself swept off his feet and tossed backward. Away from you. It’s not like Steve. You had had control then.

Thor was 4 feet off the ground and hurled backward. Roughly through a glass door. A human would have been injured. Seriously injured. You slap both hands over your mouth and start backing up. You look terrified. That had been completely unintentional. You’d been trying to shift yourself out of the way and thrown Thor instead. The Asgardian slides to a halt with a booming laugh and brushes himself off. No one is looking at him. Everyone is staring at you and you’re backing away. Hands over your mouth. You look like you’re trying to find an exit. Any exit. Any door to get out of this room before someone hurts you. He stops laughing. Careful to move slowly and keep his hands where you can see them. He sets his hammer down. “Lady Y/N,” Thor says, smiling, “I am unharmed. My apologies. I should not have tried to touch you.” Thor wonders how long it’s been since anyone touched you at all. Since you let yourself be close enough to someone. “I’m sorry,” you say swallowing hard. Tony looks from you to the broken glass to Thor, “It’s fine. I have a better idea for that wall anyway.” You stand frozen when your back hits another wall and slide down it slowly. Your knees just can’t hold you. Throwing Thor backward had taken the last bit of strength that you had. He was really fucking solid and so it took energy to move him. A lot of it. Your face is so pale you almost blend in with the wall. 

Natasha is closest to you and she kneels next to you. She touches your forehead carefully and you’re cold. “Y/N,” she said, “Hey.” She taps your hand and your face as your eyes close. You can’t keep them open any more. You slump over and she hisses. “FRIDAY!” Tony yells, “Grab Bruce. And medical. We have a situation.” You were breathing. But unconscious. Bucky helped Medical get you upstairs. He figured if you came to, you were less likely to hurl him through a wall. You never really talked to Bucky either, but Bucky hadn’t been antagonistic towards you.

______

Bruce looks up from the file. Detailed accounts of the medical experiments they’d done to you and glances at Natasha. She was waiting anxiously. The spy felt responsible for you. You were still a baby, really. At 23 you were the youngest person on the team and this wasn’t anything you wanted. “Dehydration and malnutrition... Starting weight 145 pounds. Current weight 120. In less than 60 days. She winced and took the file he proffered. “What’d medical say?” she asked. “Not much,” he says, “They all think she’s a terrorist and don’t really think she deserves the help.” She nodded, “I really wish Fury had nipped that story in the bud. I don’t think it’s helping her at all.”

The scientist shrugged, “Well. Regardless. She’s not in fighting shape. And won’t be for a while.”

“Yeah,” Natasha sighs, “That’s obvious. We can’t send her on missions like that. If she doesn’t accidentally hurt someone she’ll hurt herself. Possibly on purpose.” Bruce’s turn to wince, “I could see it. She’s depressed. Not a shock really. Her family is all in jail. Her friends think she’s a terrorist. And her co-workers treated her like a time bomb... It’s not like she has much to go on.”

Nat looked towards the elevator and back towards you. That was it. It was time for a little intelligence gathering. 

Tags: @ultramagicaltacofandom

[stillebesat]

May i request “Tell me who did this to you.” and “It’s over. They’re not going to hurt you again.” with moxiety?

CatScratch 

Sanders Sides: Roman, Virgil, Patton Fic Type: Mystery/Crime!AU Blurb: Virgil’s learned to expect a lot of things helping the police solve murders, but he never thought that they’d actually find something that could crack his own unsolved case.��Warnings: Death (Mentioned), Murders (mentioned), Blood, Injuries, Needles/Shots

The screeching of rusty hinges grated on Virgil’s ears sending a pulse of agony through his head. Growling under his breath, he tugged his hood further down over his eyes. This is why he hated old office buildings they made way too much noise.

“Sorry.” Prince apologized, holding the door open for him. “I honestly didn’t know it would do that.”

“S’fine” He muttered, hunching his shoulders. It’s not like Roman Prince had to remember on a daily basis that he wasn’t…normal.

“It’s not. Your ears okay?”

Virgil shot him a look, fighting to keep said ears from laying back flat against his head. “What do you think?”

Mr. Investigative Detective at least at the decency to look apologetic as he stepped to the side, holding the metal door open wide. “I promise this will be quick and afterwards I’ll get you a nice glass of milk–”

“Gatorade, geez man I’m not six.” Seriously. What was it with people and thinking he liked milk? Just because he had some characteristics of a cat didn’t mean–

“….Gatorade, Sunshine?”

Virgil briefly closed his eyes, fighting to keep his tail from twitching out into the open as he slipped inside the back of the dilapidated building. “Dude, I’m twenty. I can’t drink.”

“I’m aware, but Gatorade? Not Coffee? Tea? Even some Pepsi–”

“I’m also not” Virgil whirled, going on tiptoe to flash his fangs in the detective’s face. “Completely human. Remember?” He couldn’t just go drinking whatever liquid he felt like anymore.

Roman didn’t even flinch, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture. “How could I forget, Surly Temple? I’ll get you the Gatorade.” 

“Great.” He’d see if Princey remembered at the end of the night. From his past track record, Virgil wasn’t hopeful. “Now–” He turned, following the stank odor of officer sweat up the stairs.

At least it wasn’t the basement. He hunched his shoulders, ears tilting forward to guide him towards the voices he could hear above. Basements always smelt so rank when he had to deal with both damp, mold and rotting flesh.

He wrinkled his nose. “What is so special about this victim, Princey, that you felt the need to pull me out of my nice quiet–”

“It’s not to play sniffer dog if that’s what you’re thinking.” Roman interrupted, joining him on the stairs. “It’s just that he won’t let us get close to him.”

Perfect. He hated playing sniffer dog–Wait. “The victim is alive?” He asked incredulously. That was a first.

Princey nodded, giving him a proud smirk, leading him through the door on the third floor and down the hallway to glass doors that labeled the place as a Health Clinic. “Right? It’s different from our usual cases. I thought you’d like the variety.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, tail twitching against his leg. “Thought I’d like–you do remember I don’t like people right?”

Roman huffed. “You do too if you choose to, Stormy Raincloud. I mean you talk to me.”

“Because I have to.”

“And from what I could see of our vic. I thought you’d be able to you know, bond. Get closer to him.”

Virgil crossed his arms, his hair on his back bristling as he narrowed his eyes. “Me? Get closer–you mean he won’t talk to you guys?” He asked, jerking his head to the window where he could see a handful of uniforms milling in the receptionist area, many of them coming and going through the swinging door next to the desk with evidence bags in hand.

Roman shook his head. “He’s quite agitated–” He said pulling open the door, gesturing for Virgil to go first.

“And you think I’m your best option to calm him down?”

“Yes.”

Virgil threw up his hands. “You’re crazy.”

“No, I’m just–”

A loud panicked yowl sounded from the back of the clinic. “GET AWAY!”

Virgil’s heart jumped in his throat as he turned to the noise. He knew that sound. Only he’d…he’d never heard anyone else but himself make it.

I thought you’d be able to bond.

No way. There was no way. Virgil broke into a run, nimbly dodging past the frozen officers and into the back, only vaguely hearing Princey order everyone to clear the floor and wait in the lobby below.

It was like deja vu all over again. It was a different building, but he knew the awful rusty red color scheme, knew the awful carpet, the awful cologne that that monster had worn that stunk up the place.

Virgil stopped in front of the only patient door in the back that remained firmly shut, his ears perking as he caught the sound of panicked breathing within. He laid a hand on the door, biting his lip as he struggled to catch his own breath.

Two years. Two years and there might actually be a crack in his case. A chance to find the monster who’d done this to him. A chance to–

“He won’t let us get close.” Roman said from behind. “I tried to enter and he threw a metal pan at my face.”

Virgil jumped, biting back a curse. Not surprising, he’d wanted to throw something at the detective a time or two himself. “You saw something.” He whispered, glancing to him.

“Besides this being a similar setup to the other clinics we’ve found?”

Other clinics where there’d been mangled bodies that barely looked human. Virgil raised an eyebrow, hand tightening on the door knob.

Roman nodded, fidgeting in place. “A…a tail I think. So I thought…Not that you have one–” Roman glanced not so subtly at his legs.

If he could continue to keep the detective from seeing his tail it would be a miracle. It was bad enough he knew about the ears…and the claws.

“But he sounded like you with all the growling so I—”

“You do realize if he’s like…a werewolf, this won’t end well right?” Virgil muttered, turning his attention to back to the noises he could hear within. Could this guy hear them too? “We don’t know if it’s just…cats.” If the dude was part canine then they’d be in trouble. Cats and Dogs didn’t mix well.

“That didn’t sound like a howl, Virgil.”

“I know.” He snapped. “It just…” He gestured to the door. “You think–”

He hated how Roman’s eyes softened. “If he’s like you, Virge, then we may have a new lead for your case.”

That would be something wouldn’t it? Virgil took a breath. If…if he was like him…then he wouldn’t be the only one. He wouldn’t feel like such a freak. They could be one step closer to catching the so-called Doctor that had done this to him.

“Stay here.” He said, pushing open the door and slipping inside, leaving it open a crack just in case things went sour and Princey needed to save the day.  

The whistling of an object flying through the air was his only warning. Virgil ducked, crouching down on all fours as a clipboard smashed into the door and fell to the tile at his feet with a loud clatter.  

“NO. STAY AWAY!” The terrified voice yowled from behind the exam table. “GO!”

“Virge!” Roman called, hand on the door.

Virgil made a negating gesture, shushing Princey. “I’m fine.” He said in a low tone. “Stay.” The last thing he needed was the detective coming in and scaring the guy further.

Roman made a face through the crack as he took a step backwards. “Be careful.”

Wasn’t he always? Virgil glanced down at the clipboard, noting the papers still attached and the name Patton Hart scrawled across the top in a very familiar script.

An irritated growl rumbled in his chest. So close to catching the Doctor and they’d once again missed him. “Maybe try saying please…Patton?” Virgil asked, edging on all fours away from the door so he could see the victim. He lifted his head to briefly meet the glowing golden eyes of the shadowy figure huddled in the corner that were so similar to his own. “It is Patton right?”

The figure–Patton–hissed.  “Please. Get. Away.”

Virgil tilted his head, staying crouched as his eyes adjusted to dim room. “No.” Not when he could see the pale cat shaped ears twitching on the man’s head, the marks on the walls from the bloody claws coming from the man’s fingers, the fluffy tail curled protectively around himself.

Hope rose like a burning sun in his chest. Not alone.

“PLEASE.”

Virgil lifted a hand, hesitating on his hood. “You’re not going to hurt me, Pat” He said keeping his voice low. “And I won’t hurt you, okay? My name is Virgil and we’re…we’re a lot alike.”

Near hysterical laughter came from the corner. “A-alike? We-we-we’re not alik–”

The man cut off as Virgil lowered his hood, revealing his own dark cat ears. The golden eyes widened, watching as his ears swiveled about, listening to ensure there was no one else nearby.

He could only hear Princey breathing far too loudly on the other side of the door. At least the detective was listening to him and staying put.

“You’re–” Patton whispered, his pale tail lifting in a question mark.

Virgil gave a shaky smile, glancing one more time to the door to make sure Roman wasn’t visible before cautiously allowing his own black tail to slip out into view, curling it around himself. “Allergy shots right?” He said, cautiously moving closer as the man sat up, cracked glasses glinting in the faint light as they fell to the floor. Hopefully Pat wouldn’t still need those. The cat ears wouldn’t be able to keep them in place with how much they moved. “Needed to be given twice weekly for six months?” He’d only made it to the fourth month before….before the change.

He’d barely slept the three weeks after the change, wondering what would have happened to him had he made it through the entire six month dosage. Would he have changed fully into a cat after that final dose had been given? It was something he still had nightmares about.

A small whimper escaped from Patton as he nodded. “Yes. I thought–you’re-you’re telling me–I’m not the only–” He suddenly surged forward, grabbing Virgil in a surprise hug, sobbing, flinching with each movement of his tail as it curled around them as he pressed his face into Virgil’s chest. “I’m not alone?” He mumbled.

“N-no.” Virgil managed, his ears twitching violently as he fought to keep his heart in his chest. He hadn’t expected the man to be so quick to trust him…or touch him. “I’m…here.”   Awkwardly he hugged him back. “You’re going to be alright. It’s…the worst of it’s over.”

Patton’s ears moved, tickling Virgil’s chin as he clung all the tighter to him, breath hitching. “I–I thought I was–I was going to die.”

Virgil flinched, the memory of his own painful change coming back full force. Death probably would have been more gentle than feeling like he was being turned inside out and boiled alive in lava. “Me too.” He managed to whisper.

Patton lifted his head, brilliant gold eyes far too close to Virgil’s own as he gripped his jacket, ears laying back. “Do you kno–Can you tell me who did this to you–to me–us?” He demanded with quiet desperation, his tail thrashing behind him. “Tell me you caught her. That she didn’t get away.”  

Her? Virgil froze, his breath catching in his throat making it difficult to breathe. That couldn’t be right. “I—my d-d-doctor…” He stammered out, unable to look away. “Introduced himself as Dr. Friedrich Sticker. Had a heavy German accent?”

“Him?” The tail went limp as Patton slumped back, running a hand through his hair. He made a face as his fingers found one of his ears, quickly dropping his hand. “I—I thought she was male at first, but she said–” Patton hunched his shoulders, pale ears flicking back and forth. “She was here to help …she was…” He shuddered. “Her hands were always so cold.”  

Cold hands? Virgil perked up at that. Could they actually be the same person? If Sticker had switched not only his identity, but gender as well— no wonder all their leads had dried up! The police had been only searching for males that matched his description of the doctor. “The hands.” He said, shifting closer, his tail curling around to brush Pat’s. “Was she missing a finger on one?”

“….Yes.” He whispered, breath hitching as his tail entwined around Virgil’s. “The pinky on her right hand.”

His heart jumped into his throat. What were the odds? The odds of a man and a woman both being doctors, giving allergy shots, and missing a finger?

Very. Very slim.

We got you Sticker. “Mine too.”

Patton’s ears twitched as he met cautiously met Virgil’s eyes. “Did you catch her–them then?” He asked.

Virgil hated that he had to say no. “No.” Roman would have mentioned that first thing if they had. But while Sticker had always left evidence behind that he–they were involved in cases like this…the police could never find them, not until the next victim appeared.

The hope in Pat’s face vanished. “Oh.” He said, pulling his knees up to his chin, raising one hand to feel his ear. “So what now? Are they–” He shuddered, leaning against Virgil. “Is the Doctor going to come back? To finish…..this?”

No, once the-” Virgil grimaced. “Once the change starts, Sticker abandons their patients.” To die. He remembered. Had watched the doctor walk out without looking back as Virgil had fallen screaming and writhing to the floor after that last ‘allergy’ shot had been given. It had to be the same for the others they’d found though he didn’t know for sure. Virgil had been the only one to survive. Until now.

“They do? Why–shouldn’t a doctor want to see the end result of their–” Patton shuddered, dropping his hand from his ears. “Why would they try to turn me–us into a cat instead of curing us of our allergies to them? Why—leave?”

If only he he knew. Virgil exhaled, his tail twisting with Patton’s. “Well…the good news is, if you’re like me. You’re no longer going to be allergic to cats.” So in a sense, Sticker had accomplished their goal of curing them.

Which was a major plus. He couldn’t imagine having to deal with being part cat and allergic to himself.

Patton’s lifted his head to meet Virgil’s eyes, his hand dropping to their entwined tails. “That’s…that will be nice.” He said, glancing down, a soft, genuine smile playing on his lips as he ran his hand through their fur. “I love cats.”

Virgil shivered, his tail tensing under Patton’s hand. Well maybe Pat would have an easier time adjusting to his new life then. The enhanced senses, the fur that got everywhere, the constantly twitching tail and ears…

“You’re sure the Doctor isn’t going to come back?” Patton suddenly asked, interrupting Virgil’s thoughts. “To finish our shots?”

Virgil nodded, reaching out to squeeze Pat’s hand, offering him a confident smile. “I’m sure. Sticker never came back to find me. They won’t come back for you either.” He’d make sure of that. Patton would be safe. “For us- for you, Pat, it’s over. They’re not going to hurt you again. I promise.” 

Taglist: @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @redundant-statements-for-400 @aikogumi @depressed-alone @lizziepopanime @midnightcandy @sidewritings @nekoabi @ironwoman359 @ilovereadingandilovebreathing @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @theblackhoundsdaughter @littlemiracle05 @virgil-has-a-houseplant @caristars @seas-space-and-stardust @thedannyparable @faacethefacts @but-jesuschrist-im-never-good @fancydelusionluminary @generalfandomfabulousness @the-incedible-sulk @i-am-avacado​ @entitydark @unikornavenger @iris-sanders-athena @narniasfinestavengingsociopath @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @uniquesoulshatter @made-of-bitterness-and-sarcasm @moltengoldenstardust @sanders-is-awesome @myownhappilyeverafter @dragonsight9 @loving-neko @lucifer-in-my-head​  @punsterterry​ @riley-castillo @sleepyssnail​ @fandomcrazy899​ @fuck-perfection-be-a-mess​ @yay-cats9​ @randomslasher .Thank you so much for this prompt Anon! I had fun writing it!

[thebardisabird]

I’ve Got A Spell on Me, and Now You’re Mine (Pt.5) - Jyushimatsu x Reader

Can you BELIEVE I made it this far? I’m sorry I took a little longer than usual with this one. Guys...thank you for the love, seriously, I can’t be any more thankful for the praise and support. Anyway, here’s our favorite sunshine darling. UNDER THE CUT!  (You can also read it here)

You loved when he tickled you. The way his nimble sleeve covered fingers drifted over your belly or your sides never failed to bring a smile to your face. His face would light up and his hands would dance across your skin, laughing alongside you once you finally succumbed in fits from his actions.

So when you felt those same fingers at your sides this time, you expected a fit of giggles to plague you. You'd been tending to your sunflowers when you heard heavy huffing at the doorway to your backyard. No alarm came to you however, as you'd been expecting your boyfriend, Jyushimatsu. He promised that you two would go for a swim today. The sun was hitting high in the sky, you'd just bought a new bathing suit, and you had a picnic idea planned for both you after. You knew he loved the outdoors, so all plans sat well with him - his response being a loving kiss and twirling you around as he exclaimed how excited he was to have that day with you. You smiled at him, the epitome of love swirling in your chest.

But nimble fingers you thought were used for tickles had another agenda today. You turned around when he grabbed you, moving to give him a kiss. However, the sight of him stopped you before you could. The exaggerated grin he sported was still there (it always was) but there was mischief in his features. Drool dripped down his chin, his eyes cartoonishly shaped like hearts. Steam literally cascaded off of his form, and that explained why his hands felt so warm, even being able to pierce through your clothes and his sleeves. His breathing was so heavy against your face it drowned out any sound around you. He said your name and gripped you harder, a mix of gruffness and excitement echoing in his voice. He pulled you close against him, heat radiating from his sweatshirt and rolling onto you. You squeaked when he bent over, lips pressing onto your cheek and trailing downward. Letting yourself giggle when he brushed a spot just under your ear, you dissolved into a soft moan shortly after when he licked up your throat and bit under your jawline. Your hand came up to grasp his sleeve, dizzied with the desire you were beginning to feel.

"J-Jyushi" you whispered, a low groan bubbling in the back of your throat.

He was holding onto you a little rougher than you were used to and it registered as a bit of a shock to you. Jyushimatsu was extraordinarily strong, you knew, sometimes pushing boundaries of what you thought was human capability. But he rarely used that strength on you.

The only times he would were when...

A blush rushed to your cheeks and you felt yourself shake as heat swept over you. His grin widened just a hint, knowing he was starting to turn you on. That boyish grin didn't divert you from the idea that he might be toying with you. But the tent he was sporting in his shorts, did. You weren't sure what had gotten into him, but you were willing to play along your very playful boyfriend. You gathered a little bravery - pulling him in for a kiss. Arms wrapped around his neck, you pressed into him, a small shudder passing over your lips as your tongues mingled. He laughed into your kiss, hands coming to cinch around your waist to lift you up. When you pulled back from him, you let your hands rest on his shoulders. He held you a little closer now, nudging his face into the crook of your neck.

"Ne..." he sighed, "Can we do it? I really, really want to..."

That explains the sudden kisses. You wanted to giggle at his bluntness, but he dropped your waist a bit and you felt his already hard member slide in between your legs. You whimpered,

"Mmm...o-okay"

The friction you felt was short lived as he let you down. You supposed he was going to lead you back into the house, but instead he whipped you over towards a nearby tree. Your back pressed into the bark a little harsher than you liked, but you bit back your complaint. Thankfully you had little time to dwell on it when your boyfriend took you in for a searing kiss, wide mouth pushing his tongue against yours. You returned his passion regardless and you tugged at his sweater; you were desperate to remove him from those overheated threads. He took the hint and with a quick pull, the garment was gone. You had to thank your lucky stars your backyard was secluded, lest your neighbors get an eyeful of his half naked form.

But oh what an eyeful he was. Under that oversized sweater, Jyushimatsu donned a body no one expected. Strong arms came to compliment broad shoulders. The significant definition of abs and taut muscle never failed to surprise you; but it made sense when he lifted you in his arms effortlessly. Your thoughts (and your obvious ogling) were struck down when you felt him place his kneed between your thighs, the skirt you were wearing beginning to hike up. He took to pressing more kisses on your neck as his hands wandered to cup your clothed breasts enthusiastically.

"Ahaa~" he softly exclaimed, fingers squeezing them, but that wasn't going to be enough for you. You quickly stopped him, moving to pull your shirt off, leaving you with nothing but your strapless bra on. The clasps were undone easily in Jyushimatsu's hands - a little thing you were thankful you were able to teach him. At the sight of your bare chest, you swear you saw the hearts in his irises give a dramatic thump. His rough hands, calloused from endless batting practice, were careful against your soft flesh. He eagerly tweaked your nipple, pulling a sharp wince of pleasure from you. You reached up to kiss him hard, pushing your chest into his hands further. He cupped your breasts with another squeeze and when your mouth open, he made sure to dive his tongue in your mouth. Juyshimatsu's hands eventually drifted down to your waist, wrapping his strong arms around you. With a quick "hup!" he lifted you up once more, pinning your back to the tree behind you. Legs came to wrap around his torso in playful want. You smiled when he nuzzled his nose into your neck, but you were soon reduced to putty as he kissed up your neck and breathed in your ear,

"You feel so nice against me"

You bit your lip again, clutching to his hair and back. Having his hard physique and heat against you was starting to overwhelm you. He rocked his hips into yours experimentally, the whole length of him coming to rub you through the thin fabric of your panties. If you weren't soaked before, you were now - the gasp in your throat gave you away. His laugh dipped down an octave and you could tell he was growing more needy by the minute. You moved your head over to nibble on his earlobe.

"Jyushimatsu..." you sighed. You pulled back to rest your forehead on his, a blush dusting your face once more, "D-Don't go too fast, okay?"

You watched his face light up. Like a kid on Christmas, you laughed inwardly. His cheeks took on a rosy tint and he nodded rapidly. He quickly reached down to free his throbbing member from the confines of his shorts. When you felt the head of his cock brush against your clit, you whined. He slid an arm around your lower back and slid into you in a gentle but purposeful thrust. Exhaling loudly, he snapped his eyes shut to concentrate on his restraint. You were so hot around him, it was taking a great amount of discipline to not rail you like he desperately wanted to. You groaned at the fullness of him. He was so thick, it usually took a minute for acclamation despite you two have had sex a number of times already. You scratched the back of his head gently, your signal for him to move.

He pulled halfway out and pushed back in with double the force. You squeaked, quickly dissolving into a moan. He met your hips thrust for thrust, lips leaving small bites and languid lick on your neck and shoulders. He was already hitting you so deep, your back arching at each thrust. His brows were knit together in concentration and you noticed right away, his shoulders starting to shake. Restraining himself was starting to take its toll, and with all the pent up lust that was barricaded in him, he wasn't going to be able to hold back; but he fought the urge for your sake. You peppered the side of his face with kisses, finally reaching his ear to whisper,

"Jyushi...mmm, faster, please..."

You felt the corners of his wide grin twist into a smirk. Hands drifted down to grip your ass, his hips slamming into yours. Bottoming out inside you, you were lost in wanton whines and immense pleasure. You felt him everywhere on you, hands steadying you so he could take you roughly, shoulders under your fingernails, broad chest being the wall to stop your ever bending back. He lit your body on fire, all strength and intimacy molded into one man. When you felt him pulling you down onto his cock, you yelled. Judging by your noises, he had no doubt he hit your g spot, and he had every intention to keep hitting it. He held you in that exact spot, pistoning his hips to ram right against that spot that you drove you wild.

"Jyushi, Jyushi, oh my goooood Jyushiiii" you whined, electricity being pounded into your hips.

"So good haaa, so warm!" he panted. He sped up his thrusts slightly. You were close, you both knew it. You threw your head back, toes curling as he worked into you.

With an exceptionally hard thrust he threw you over the edge, a scream tearing through your lips. You were sure his name was the only thing anyone heard within a good distance of your house. Normally you'd be embarrassed had you not been so wracked with the ecstasy your boyfriend brought you. He chuckled lowly, appeased he could bring you to such a state, but he hissed shortly after as your pussy spasmed around him. He gave you a series of rough thrusts before finally cumming himself, a shudder running down his back. He stilled momentarily and then finally sighed, his forehead resting on your shoulder.

"Ahhh..." he exhaled. You were pulled in for a sweet kiss, his arms holding you around your back. A gentle warmth washed over you as you kissed him.

"I love you Jyushi" you said, fingers brushing through his hair.

He placed a soft kiss on your temple, "I love you too..."

Suddenly he lifted you off of the tree, your legs still wrapped around his waist. One arm held you under your ass and you bit your lip. He was still very much erect inside you, and as he started walking toward the house with you in his arms, you couldn't help but feel him brush against your walls here and there. You arms wrapped around his neck while you held on, the sound of his quiet humming in your ear. Biting your lip you asked, breath hitching,

"Wh-Where are we going?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he retorted, kicking the door open. You blinked, unsure of what he meant. At your silence he laughed and you blushed, not missing the playful mischief in his voice. An arm came around your waist and gripped you tighter against him.

"I have wayyy more homeruns to hit!"

[crimsonlark]

Forgotten Talents

Summary:  A small one shot about Ross rediscovering his love of drawing. Just wanted to write something fluffy for a change :) Warnings:  swearing Words: 1932

AO3 link: Here

“Hey Trott, could you get me some pencils on your next trip out?” Ross had their only wireless controller in hand, playing a new game Smith had nicked for him. His seaglass tail was loosely wrapped around Trott's waist, twitching absentmindedly as he played.

“For writing?” Trott looked up from his laptop for a moment, pushing his glasses up and rubbing his tired eyes.

“Ah, no… well… I wanted to start drawing?” Ross said in a slightly embarrassed tone. His humanlike skin was betrayed by a bluish blush that spread across his cheeks.

Trott smiled at the sheepish gargoyle and leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek, “Sure, sunshine. Did you need a sketchbook?”

“Oh, no… I um… found one in a box we never unpacked and figured I could use it? Unless it's yours….” Ross had turned his attention back to the game, the blush still dusting his pale face.

“You can use it, I bought it forever ago and never did. You like to draw? I didn’t know that,” Trott tugged on the hem of his oversized sweater and adjusted Ross’ tail on his lap so it didn't snag.

“Just a little… I used to steal bits of leftover charcoal and parchment from artists who would come in to sketch the paintings in my church and just kinda copy what they did.”

Ross remembered being enraptured by the young and old artists coming in and having the skill to reproduce the beautiful works that decorated his old home. He practiced and got better, favoring drawing the artists themselves over the paintings which were static with the same expressions.

Humans were so fascinating, always changing and malleable. As a being of stone, it was a concept that took him a long time to understand. He learned a delicate touch from drawing after crushing his charcoal too roughly and ripping paper several times. It was difficult with his claws but after a few decades he became very precise and gentle.

When Smith burned his church down he cursed himself for not saving his stack of drawings. He was so caught up in the kelpie’s promise of freedom that it slipped his mind entirely. He mourned the loss once everything settled and decided to leave his solitary hobby behind for his new life of companionship.

Recently he had observed some students doing studies in the park and it rekindled his desire to create. He was a little embarrassed but knew Trott wouldn't tease him about something dear to him. Smith never really meant to be malicious but could be an insufferable teaser sometimes.

Trott leaned over to give him one more kiss on the cheek and broke him out his reverie, “I'll grab some next time I head out.”

“Thanks, Trott. Goddammit, can you look up the solution to this one?” He switched back to his usual joking tone and Trott laughed, watching him shake the controller in frustration.

-------

The clouds had finally cleared and left so Ross took the opportunity to climb up to the roof to draw. He didn't want anyone breathing down his neck as he tried to get back into the swing of it.

He had brought up various things from the apartment and laid them on the shitty plastic table he had on the roof. A bowl of fruit, that only he usually ate, was his first target. After adjusting the fruit for a minute he decided it was good enough and sat on the dangerously creaky lawn chair with his sketchpad in his lap.

He drew for a while, eventually switching out the subject with flowers he had picked from the nearby park. He was intensely focused, tail swishing behind slowly.

He was frustrated that it was so hard, he used to be so good and now it seemed like he was back to square one after not practicing for so long. Annoyed, he crumpled up a page that was just looking terrible and did some deep breathing. ‘You just need to practice more’, he could almost hear Trott advising him. He sassed back the Trott voice in his head, laughing at himself and tried again, a little more relaxed.

Smith had been watching him stealthily for a while now, surprised he hadn't been noticed. Ross was usually very aware of his surroundings. Trott mentioned he was drawing and warned him to not bother him but when had he ever listened?

“Whatcha doin?” Smith asked, getting bored of just watching from the fire escape.

Ross jumped a little, being pulled out of his sort of trance, “What? Oh, just, uh, drawing,”

“Can I see?” Smith sauntered over and draped his arms around Ross from behind, making the chair squeak more under their weight.

“I guess … just don't make fun of me, you prick,” Ross huffed, annoyed that Smith was up here, probably to bother him.

“Oy, I'm always polite, I'll have you know. Woah, you're good! Better than I am definitely, haha,” Smith stood up and moved around to his side as Ross flicked through the couple of drawings he had done the past few days.

“Could I model for you?” Smith flashed a smile at Ross who rolled his eyes.

“I doubt you could sit still long enough.”

“I totally can, look!” Smith grabbed the other molded plastic chair and sat in it, doing a cheesy pose with his hands under his chin.

“Well, I am pretty bored of drawing fruit and shit… Fine…” Ross said in mock defeat, “But don't move until I'm done with my sketch, please.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Smith pulled a dumb face and saluted him, receiving another eyeroll. He laughed heartily and then struck a pose, one arm flexed with a smirk on his face.

“Good, stay,” Ross did quick gesture drawings, telling him to move after a few minutes each. He told him how to pose a few times but mostly Smith was pretty good at keeping it exciting.

After a little less than an hour of this Ross said he was done.  “Well, lemme see, then,” Smith demanded playfully.

Ross turned the sketchbook over to him and Smith flicked through, smile on his face.

“Not bad, you made me look really sexy in this one,” He grinned and winked before tossing the sketchbook back to him.

“Thank you Smith,” Ross had packed up his supplies and pulled him into a kiss, “Mostly for not making fun of me.”

“Hey, I'm not that much of a dick…” Ross pulled a face, “Most of the time…. Okay whatever, maybe I am a dick a lot of the time but I think it's really cool that you draw, I'm definitely not good at it. It's fascinating.” Smith stretched and yawned, complaining that he was hungry.

Ross smiled and hugged Smith tight, knowing that of all the decisions he had made, he was most glad for going with Smith that day and choosing to not be alone anymore.

------

“Like this?” Trott was reclined on their couch, fully nude. He was humoring Ross who was still really eager to draw since he had brought him pencils. At first he declined, he wasn't like Smith or Ross who frequently hung around stark naked without any fear.

He wasn't ashamed of his body but not extremely comfortable being so exposed. It made him feel vulnerable and he didn't like it. Only the praise and reassurance from his favorite gargoyle had made him relax enough to agree and try something new.

“Holy shit, Trott… you are so fucking gorgeous,” Ross breathed, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of his collarbone and the hint of muscle in his relaxed arms.

“Yeah, sure, says the literal piece of art,” Trott scoffed back without any real heat. He held his pose comfortably and watched Ross as he drew him. Ross’ tongue would poke out and wet his lips now and then as he occasionally muttered to himself. A small crease formed between his eyebrows, it was so endearing that there was no way Trott could’ve said no.

“Now be sure to draw my dick actual size, you know huge,” Trott gestured down at his crotch jokingly.

“Hey, don't move! I'll accurately represent your tiny dick, Trott, don't worry,” He laughed and waved absentmindedly at him.

Trott's stomach jumped with laughter as he tried to reposition his limbs how they were. He held the pose for another twenty minutes until Ross said he was done.

“Damn, Ross, it looks just like me…” Trott said amazed after he went to get a look. He had tried painting before but it was really hard and he gave up quickly when it wasn't perfect.

“Would you like some tea?” Ross smiled sheepishly, he didn't want Trott to make a big deal over his drawing.

“Yeah, thank you. Seriously, you're amazing, love. Why’d you stop drawing?” Trott asked as he slipped some boxers on and followed Ross into the kitchen.

Ross shrugged as he clattered around, getting the kettle on, “I dunno… when Smith brought me back here I lost all sense of my older self for a while. I was a whole new person with you all. Thinking about drawing brought back how lonely I felt in that church and I really didn’t want to think of those days.”

“Oh sunshine…” Trott wrapped his arms around Ross’ middle from behind and kissed his shoulder where he could reach. “Goddamn you tall bastards.” He grumbled and Ross laughed.

Ross turned in his embrace and leaned back against the counter, slumping down until they were the same height, “Better?”

“Oh shut up,” Trott rolled his eyes before kissing him. He ran his hands through his short dark hair, trying to put all his love for the man into the kiss. They all were terrible about sharing feelings and Trott cursed himself that he didn’t tell Ross more that they loved him and wanted him. He was such a delicate thing in a tough exterior, stone cold and unyielding when they first met. Now more than ever he looked human and just as vulnerable as Trott had felt when he first left the kingdom under the sea.

They broke apart and he looked intently into his eyes. A swirl of magic could be seen in those ocean water eyes if you knew what to look for. Trott lifted his hand up and stroked his bottom lip before resting it on the side of his face. One last tender kiss and the teapot interrupted them. They sighed and ended their embrace, fingers laced together as Ross deftly prepared their tea with one hand.

They returned to the couch and snuggled close, slowly drinking as the it cooled off.

“Ross, I know we all don’t say it enough but… I love you, Smith loves you. Hell, Sips is hopelessly in love with you. I just want you to know that you’ll always be ours and we’ll be yours. You don’t have to ever be alone again,” Trott’s eyes were a little misty but he hid it by quickly taking another sip of tea.

“I know. I love you all too. That’s why I decided I could draw again, I’m not attached to my past anymore and I want to share all I have with you,” Ross smiled, a small tear welling in his eye and breaking only to have Trott catch it with a soft hand.

“No crying in your tea, it’ll ruin the taste,” Trott laughed gently.

Ross just snorted and lied his head on Trott’s shoulder as they both enjoyed the quiet apartment.

[brightlotusmoon]

My Mikey. MINE. yes and yours.

Okay, yes, this is a lot about the promo elevator scene from the upcoming episode that got promoted, the one where Mikey starts knocking together his nunchaku just like in the 2014 film, but where Raph fucking punches him in the head so hard he crashes down to the floor and it’s suddenly not fucking funny…

But it is also about the season one episode where they were shoving Mikey between them because nobody wanted him on their team, the episodes where Mikey screams that they never listen to him when he is right, the season three episode where he literally runs away because he can’t handle the abuse, yes, the abuse, all the episodes where they tease his lack of thought, where they assume he isn’t good enough, where even his father thinks all he does is joke around. “Mikey doesn’t have a brain, don’t listen to him. But holy shit, Mikey is hurt, get angry and vengeful.” ??

It’s about wondering WHY writers of this show (and the 2003 show and the 2007 film) don’t know what to do with such a versatile character beyond Eternal Kid Appeal and Butt Monkey and occasional Woobie. There is only so much comic relief Mikey can hold on his shoulders before he just falls like slapstick. And about that: ever notice how when others beat the turtles up, they are badly injured, but they beat each other up and it’s nothing. Like, Raph can literally throw a sudden punch to the head that would cause whiplash, bruising, stiff neck, even concussion, but Mikey slowly gets up and shakes it off and also Donnie is the only one thinking Holy Shit That Has To Hurt and then it’s forgotten. It was a scene that never needed to be. Raph could have smacked Mikey lightly. But nope.

Hey. Writers. Remember when Mikey got knocked unconscious by Snakeweed and Raph lost his ability to think? Remember when Tiger Claw struck Mikey so hard his shell was knocked loose and Raph cradled him in worry? Remember when Raph kept protecting Mikey and caring for Mikey and loving Mikey? Are you sure you remember? Because “Nobody hurts Mikey but me” has been pretty literal. And it is sad and it hurts.

You might think I’m being over dramatic but you should see the conversations happening over that one scene. These kids are abusing each other and shrugging it off. I get it, they only had each other, frustrations and tempers had to be let out somehow, and Mikey designated himself Family Punching Bag because his optimistic joyful self could bounce back. But now they’re out in the world. They have more than just each other. Is it literal reflex, built from a decade of Mikey taking the punches and laughing them off?

Look, I am an only child. Was born disabled. Cerebral palsy not diagnosed until age four. Epilepsy not diagnosed until age 26. ADHD not diagnosed until age 22. Autism not diagnosed until age 34. My teen years were spent isolated and afraid of people, while my parents just wanted me to have friends, while my school mates mocked and teased and verbally punched me for being the only disabled kid in a school of 400. I didn’t even know who I was because the 1980s and 1990s didn’t see the medical stuff, just “weird kid and Fuck If We Know, she’s genius in reading and shit at math, just push her up two grades and whoops, she’s being ripped apart.” Maybe if I’d had siblings it would have been less WTF. At least sibling teasing was love, right? Right?

I just….Mikey. Sweet precious ADHD Autistic inhuman child who lived in literal seclusion, isolation, sheltered from the world for his first 15 years. And then one brother falls in love with the first girl human they see, his other brother becomes best friends with a boy human version of himself, his oldest brother is too involved in being a ninja geek. Mikey just desperately wants to socialize, but every human pushes him away and his own family is too involved to pay attention and he keeps hurting and being hurt, and it seems to culminate in being fucking punched in the head by his own brother just because he is stimming and fidgeting out his tension in a small space and nobody wonders if he’s okay.

I need him to be okay. I need season 5, the final season, to give Mikey what he needs. I’ve seen clips of his voice actor flirting in the recording booth with Shinigami’s voice actress and being very excited about Mikey’s development. I keep biting my lip. Mikey needs to be okay. Throughout the 30-year franchise, Michelangelo was either in the background or made to be the only comic relief. It was the fandom that molded him. It was fandom who shaped his hinted at abilities into much more, and it was fandom that inspired the producers and writers. I will always love Ciro and Brandon for making this Mikey into a sweet adorable precious darling childlike freckled ball of sunshine. But I will shake my fists at how much they hint at his raw potential and then turn around show how little he is featured.

But this is why we write fanfiction and draw fanart. I’m gonna see the entire series through, okay. And I am still gonna love it. I’m gonna cherish every moment, even the sad parts and the bad parts and the WTF parts. And I am also gonna express frustration and aggravation and rants about the parts that feel wrong.

That elevator scene should have never happened the way it did. I get that they were playing off the Paramount film. But… No. When the episode airs in the USA in February, I’ll be happy for the OMG CHOMPY parts (seriously, they pulled a “Surprise Kitty!” scene). But I won’t be happy about the elevator scene.

[aumolc]

Source : Google photo of black mold that can release mito toxins

Synopsis : The world we live in brings us closer and brings with it problems like virus that can jump from people to people. But if we take simple precautions that the blog looks at then we can avoid most of the problems. 

A female passenger flying somewhere declared that she had just come from China and the whole plane was emptied because the passengers were so scared.  She sat alone in the plane bemoaning the fact that we now live so precariously in today’s connected world where a disaster in one part affects directly the other part quickly.

Source Google photo of Corona virus 1 and 2

Take the case of the Corona virus that started in Wuhan in China and now has spread to many countries killing numerous people who came in contact with an infected person. All countries are now worried and have put in strict measures to contain the virus by keeping the travelers in quarantine for 2 weeks to see if they develop the symptoms. The ships coming from China have been restricted off shores in many countries and the passengers or the crew are kept on the ships because of the fear that they may have the virus and may spread it among the unsuspecting people.

The scientists and medical people are working feverishly to find a vaccine to fight this latest menace while the bozos are claiming a cure by drinking cow urine or some such outlandish remedies as if it was that easy. I will not be surprised if some enterprising crooks are already selling the cow urine as a surefire cure at a premium price because panicked people will do anything.

It reminds me of the plague that broke out in London that killed 100000 people in just a few months. The Great Plague, lasting from 1665 to 1666, was the last major epidemic of the bubonic plague to occur in England. … The Great Plague killed an estimated 100,000 people—almost a quarter of London’s population—in 18 months. ( wikipedia)

Approximately 4 100 000 patients are estimated to acquire a healthcare-associated infection in the EU each year. The number of deaths occurring as a direct consequence of these infections is estimated to be at least 37 000 and these infections are thought to contribute to an additional 110 000 deaths each year. ( wikipedia)

Our body has a built in mechanism to fight infection if we are healthy so we may not even know what bacteria, virus or other harm causing things enter our nostrils everyday because our immune system quickly overpowers them and destroys them but the immune system works when we are healthy. When we are not healthy then a simple infection can cause major problems. Germs of all kinds are emanated by very sick people specially if they have tuberculosis or other infectious diseases so coming in contact with such people can land you in big trouble.

Although our nose is not as sensitive as that of a dog, we can smell a wide array of noxious things in the air. I can tell just by entering a house if someone is sick there because of the smell of sickness pervading the air. If the house is damp and not well ventilated or aired, it becomes a breeding ground for germs of all sorts specially the deadly ones like tuberculosis. Molds grow on walls in such houses that can be extremely toxic to breathe in. You will notice that people who keep dogs and cats and play with them all the time may develop severe forms of asthma because these animals constantly shed hair making the house very dirty.

The Chinese Feng Shui people are often laughed at and not taken seriously but they will tell you all sorts of things that are wrong in your house if you invite them. They will tell you that your house is wrongly oriented meaning it does not let natural sunshine and air enter your house or that your main door is placed in the wrong place meaning it blocks the natural flow of energy through your house etc. You may not believe in all they say but somethings do make sense.

Sunshine is a natural bacteria and mold killer as any doctor will tell you. So keeping your house well aerated, ventilated and dry is a major step to ward off infectious germs that are always in the air or brought by someone who is sick. Keeping your house spotlessly clean and washing drapes, sheets and covers regularly will make your home a healthy place to live in but I have seen how people suffer in Africa from malaria when it is so easy to prevent it. Walking bare feet on dirt like they do can land you in big trouble in Africa.

We lived in a village in Mali where I designed a 5 room round house interconnected to each other through covered passageways the villagers built for us. The round rooms were well ventilated through well placed windows and we screened the doors and all the windows to keep the mosquitos and flies out. We lived in a malaria endemic area but we never had any problem because we took such precautions. Our kids were given Nivaquine as a prophylactic measure and we always filtered our water. But the Africans in our village suffered from Malaria because their huts had open windows .

It is now known that coating our floors with cow dung paste once a week not only gave it a good hard dust free finish. it also killed germs. That is the power of cow dung that most people do not know anything about. A farmer in India has built a house in his village only using local materials found on his farm and coating his mud brick walls with cow dung that keeps his house cool in summer and warm in winter. His dung coated walls kill all germs that enter his house. I would like you to watch this video here that shows his award winning house that is so beautiful that it will take your breath away. It is in Hindi but you will understand how the farmer used only local materials in such an artistic way that won him numerous awards that the Prime Minister Modi himself praises.

Source U Tube video of a beautiful , clean and hygienic farm house in India.

It says the use of cow dung, urine and natural materials that were used to make this house in a village in India makes you feel like paradise. 

We all know that germs and virus spread through contact that may not be physical but just being near an infected person can infect you because the air he breathes out is full of virus that you may breathe in. It can happen in a closely packed train or metro or a bus or where there is a huge crowd milling around and spreading infectious germs and deadly virus. In such cases you must protect yourself with a face mask and avoid shaking hands with people you know or meet.

When people died in London in the bubonic plague outbreak there in 1665, people did not know that rats were the culprits. London in those days was a very dirty city giving rise to a huge rat population that carried the plague carrying tiny insect. But now the medical science has evolved to the point when the diseases and their source can be readily identified by thermal scanners in airports or other ports of entry.

It is a very unsettling fact that now a person carrying an infection of sorts caused by a deadly virus can travel to other parts in just a few hours and spread the disease there. That is how the Corona virus is spreading to so many countries. It is unsettling because until now they have not found a vaccine that works although doctors and scientists are feverishly looking for one.  Remember the Ebola crisis that started in Africa somewhere and killed so many people including the doctors and nurses who were treating the sick people ? It became a very serious problem that brought together many countries to fight it so eventually it was controlled.

Often the animals carry the sickness. It was found that monkeys were responsible for spreading Ebola but in other cases it may be other animals. We still do not know what started the spread of Corona virus. Some say that it was spread by bats that the Chinese eat but the Chinese eat all sorts of things that you and I may never do while the Europeans eat somethings that no Asian worth his salt will dare to eat. It is a fact that the humans are omnivorous that can bring in its own set of problems. In essence we are what we eat and of what quality. We should understand that food is not something universal. If we do not eat it, it is not food although others may call it so.

It is also known that the vegetarians are in general healthy people but we the non vegetarian people can’t have enough of animal protein that can bring in its own set of problems. Pork meat can carry tape worms or other types of worms while beef may carry tuberculosis germs . In many countries where people eat beef and pork , the animal hygiene is less than what is standard so people get sick. Chicken are not all that safe to eat if they are not raised in clean environment and with proper care.

I am particularly worried about the Western countries where half cooked beefsteaks are served because that is what the customer wants. Cooking any meat thoroughly kills all the germs it may carry but the restaurants will serve you raw meat if that is what you want. They don’t care. So it is up to us to examine what we eat and how our food is prepared under what conditions. I like to see how the cook prepares my meal. Once we were in a Mongolian restaurant near Orting where the cooks had a giant hot plate or a wok where they cooked your food in front of you which was very nice.

Another thing that often worries me is the practice of hugging and kissing to show friendliness that can transmit germs easily from person to person. I like the Indian way of greeting each other by bringing the palms together and saying Namaste but some imitate the Western culture so hugging and kissing on the cheek is also spreading among the younger generation.

Finally , it is all up to us to learn to live a healthy life, take precautions that are simple but very effective and keep our house and surroundings spotlessly clean. The world we live in is now more connected than ever bringing in all sorts of trouble from far places. We must not take anything for granted so should examine the expiry date of foods that we buy. Some people live on canned goods but that is a very unhealthy way of living because we all know that the canned goods are preserved with all sorts of preservatives that have long term health problems associated with them.

There is nothing better than fresh vegetables that are organic meaning they do not use pesticides on them and there is nothing better than fresh eggs from self supporting chickens. The deep orange colored yolks are the best. Live fish if you can find them is always better than dead fish and fresh cow milk with full cream is better than the refrigerated kind you buy in the grocery stores. Our Mother Nature provides us with all the good things to eat but the crooks adulterate them before selling them so that they can make money. Just don’t be taken in by their fancy advertising.

Fresh fruits like bananas , papayas, avocados, oranges and others are better if you can find them. Sometimes you have to go to a farmer’s market where you can buy all sorts of fresh farm produce like fruits, vegetables , milk , cheese etc.

The precarious living sounds awful but it does not have to be.

  Note : My blogs are also available in French, Spanish, German and Japanese languages at the following links as well as my biography. My blogs can be shared by anyone anytime in any social media.

Mes blogs en français.

Mis blogs en espagnol

Blogs von Anil in Deutsch

Blogs in Japanese

My blogs at Wix site

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Blogger.com

Medium.com

Anil’s biography in English.

Biographie d’Anil en français

La biografía de anil en español.

Anil’s Biografie auf Deutsch

Anil’s biography in Japanese

Биография Анила по-русскиu

        Precarious living Source : Google photo of black mold that can release mito toxins Synopsis : The world we live in brings us closer and brings with it problems like virus that can jump from people to people.

[newstfionline]

Americans: the next climate migrants

By Oliver Milman, The Guardian, 24 Sep 2018

After her house flooded for the third year in a row, Elizabeth Boineau was ready to flee. She packed her possessions into dozens of boxes, tried not to think of the mold and mildew-covered furniture and retreated to a second-floor condo that should be beyond the reach of pounding rains and swelling seas.

Boineau is leaving behind a handsome, early 20th-century house in Charleston, South Carolina, the shutters painted in the city’s eponymous shade of deep green. Last year, after Hurricane Irma introduced 8in of water into a home Boineau was still patching up from the last flood, local authorities agreed this historic slice of Charleston could be torn down.

“I was sloshing through the water with my puppy dog, debris was everywhere,” she said. “I feel completely sunken. It would cost me around $500,000 to raise the house, demolish the first floor. I’m going to rent a place instead, on higher ground.”

Millions of Americans will confront similarly hard choices as climate change conjures up brutal storms, flooding rains, receding coastlines and punishing heat. Many are already opting to shift to less perilous areas of the same city, or to havens in other states. Whole towns from Alaska to Louisiana are looking to relocate, in their entirety, to safer ground.

The era of climate migration is, virtually unheralded, already upon America.

The population shift gathering pace is so sprawling that it may rival anything in US history. “Including all climate impacts it isn’t too far-fetched to imagine something twice as large as the Dustbowl,” said Jesse Keenan, a climate adaptation expert at Harvard University, referencing the 1930s upheaval in which 2.5 million people moved from the dusty, drought-ridden plains to California.

This enormous migration will probably take place over a longer period than the Dustbowl but its implications are both profound and opaque. It will plunge the US into an utterly alien reality. “It is very difficult to model human behaviour under such extreme and historically unprecedented circumstances,” Keenan admits.

The closest analogue could be the Great Migration--a period spanning a large chunk of the 20th century when about 6 million black people departed the Jim Crow south for cities in the north, midwest and west.

By the end of this century, sea level rise alone could displace 13 million people, according to one study, including 6 million in Florida. States including Louisiana, California, New York and New Jersey will also have to grapple with hordes of residents seeking dry ground.

“There’s not a state unaffected by this,” said demographer Mat Hauer, lead author of the research, which is predicated on a severe 6ft sea level increase. There are established migration preferences for some places--south Florida to Georgia, New York to Colorado--but in many cases people would uproot to the closest inland city, if they have the means.

“The Great Migration was out of the south into the industrialized north, whereas this is from every coastal place in the US to every other place in the US,” said Hauer. “Not everyone can afford to move, so we could end up with trapped populations that would be in a downward spiral. I have a hard time imagining what that future would be like.”

Within just a few decades, hundreds of thousands of homes on US coasts will be chronically flooded. By the end of the century, 6ft of sea level rise would redraw the coastline with familiar parts--such as southern Florida, chunks of North Carolina and Virginia, much of Boston, all but a sliver of New Orleans--missing. Warming temperatures will fuel monstrous hurricanes--like the devastating triumvirate of Irma, Maria and Harvey in 2017, followed by Florence this year--that will scatter survivors in jarring, uncertain ways.

The projections are starting to materialize in parts of the US, forming the contours of the climate migration to come.

“I don’t see the slightest evidence that anyone is seriously thinking about what to do with the future climate refugee stream,” said Orrin Pilkey, professor emeritus of coastal geology at Duke University. “It boggles the mind to see crowds of climate refugees arriving in town and looking for work and food.”

Pilkey’s new book--Sea Level Rise Along Americas Shores: The Slow Tsunami--envisions apocalyptic scenes where millions of people, largely from south Florida, will become “a stream of refugees moving to higher ground”.

“They will not be the bedraggled families carrying their few possessions on their backs as we have seen in countless photos of people fleeing wars and ethnic cleansing, most recently in Myanmar and Syria,” Pilkey states in his book. “Instead, they will be well-off Americans driving to a new life in their cars, with moving trucks behind, carrying a lifetime of memories and possessions.”

Dejected with frigid New York winters, Chase Twichell and her husband purchased a four-bedroom apartment in Miami Beach in 2011, with the plan of spending at least a decade basking in the sunshine. At first, keeping a pair of flip-flops on hand to deal with the flooded streets seemed an acceptable quirk, until the magnitude of the encroaching seas became apparent when the city spent $400m to elevate streets near Twichell’s abode.

Twichell began to notice water pumps were spewing plastic bags, condoms and chip packets into the bay. Friends’ balconies started getting submerged. Twichell, a poet, found apocalyptic themes creeping into her work. Last year, she sold the apartment to a French businessman and moved back to upstate New York.

“It was like end of the world stuff,” she said. “It was crazy for us to have such a big investment in such a dangerous situation.” Her neighbours initially scolded her but now several are also selling up, fretting that the real estate and insurance markets for properties like theirs will seize up.

“It was horrible but fascinating to see it,” Twichell said. “It’s like we got to see the future and it wasn’t pretty. It’s like a movie where there’s a terrible volcano that is destroying everything, only it’s much slower than that.”

A sense of fatalism is also starting to grip some local officials. Philip Stoddard, mayor of South Miami, has seen a colleague, spooked by sea level rise, move to California and some neighbours sell their houses before an expected slump in prices. Stoddard and his wife regularly discuss buying a fallback property, perhaps in Washington DC.

“Most people will wait for the problem to be bad to take action, that’s what I worry about,” he said. “We can buy a lot of time, but in the end we lose. The sea level will go over the tops of our buildings.”

Those living near the coasts will face pressures of the gradual (sea level rise) as well as dramatic (storms) nature but people inland will also be harried to move by climate change.

Farming techniques and technology have improved immeasurably since the Dustbowl but rising temperatures are still expected to diminish yields for crops such as maize, soybeans and wheat, prompting the departure of younger people from farming. By 2050, Texas county, the largest wheat-producing county in Oklahoma, could spend an extra 40 days a year above 90F (32C) compared with now.

A study published last year found that the economies of the southern states, along with parts of the west, will suffer disproportionately as temperatures rise. Wealth, and potentially people, are expected to shift north and west.

Meanwhile, cities already struggling with heat will see wealthy residents head for cooler climes. Last year, 155 people died in Phoenix due to a particularly fierce summer. Increasing heat will start testing the durability of the populace, even those shielded by air conditioning. In the western states, wildfires are getting larger, razing homes in ever more spectacular ways and choking thousands of people with carcinogenic smoke.

Further to the south, at the border, there are suggestions that people from Central America are being nudged towards the US because of drought and hurricanes in their homelands, part of a trend that will see as many as 300 million climate refugees worldwide by 2050.

“People will get very grumpy and upset with very hot temperatures,” said Amir Jina, an environmental economist at the University of Chicago who co-authored the research on economic losses. “Even if you have air conditioning, some areas start to look less habitable. By the middle of the century parts of the south-west and south-east won’t look attractive to live in.

“That insidious climate migration is the one we should worry about. The big disasters such as hurricanes will be obvious. It’s the pressures we don’t know or understand that will reshape population in the 21st century.”

Some will just grimly hang on. “With property rights as strong as they are in the US, some people may choose to go down with the ship,” said Harvard’s Keenan. “The question is whether they have the means and the options to do anything else.”

“People can usually cope with being a little less comfortable, but if you see repeated storms or severe damage to crops, that will trigger change,” said Solomon Hsiang, who researches how climate change will affect society at the University of California.

“There will be pressure to move a little north. It won’t be everyone, though, it won’t be like the great migration of wildebeest in Africa. Whole cities picking up and moving would be hugely expensive.”

Ultimately, the US will have to choose what it wants to defend and hope its ingenuity outstrips the environmental changes ranged against it. Not everyone will be able to shelter behind fortifications like the ‘big U’ planned to defend lower Manhattan. Wrenching decisions will have to be made as to what and where will be sacrificed.

“We won’t see whole areas abandoned but neighborhoods will get sparse and wild looking, the tax base will start to crumble,” said Stoddard, mayor of South Miami. “We don’t have the laws to deal with that sort of piecemeal retreat. It’s magical thinking to think someone else will buy out your property.

“We need a plan as to what will be defended because at the moment the approach is that some kid in a garage will come with a solution. There isn’t going to be a mop and bucket big enough for this problem.”

[em-holmes]

a whole year more

           The last few days have been so full of love and happiness, great food and craft beer, and sunshine and endless hugs. What an absolutely perfect way to celebrate the beginning of twenty-six. As I am reflecting on all the learning and growing that happened this year, I am trying to dial into the highlights and key points of this year. Here are my takeaways:

 1)   It’s so easy to get caught up in the state of mind where you make future plans and then are so excited for them to occur that you forget to be present. Just to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with making plans, it’s actually really healthy to have goals and ambitions pushing you forward. What I mean though, is that sometimes in the past I have found myself in a state of ingratitude as I waited for Friday, or for summer, or for my birthday. Instead of living out each beautiful and unique moment as it came, my head was hours, days, weeks, months ahead of itself, leaving no time to experience the life that was right in front of me. The past year I have really tried to focus on “now” instead of later. It hasn’t always been easy, especially after being accepted into a program I have dreamed of for a couple years, and then having to be a bit hush-hush about it, while daydreaming of the exciting new adventures that were to come, but it’s also so wonderful to catch yourself in a state of bliss by just being. It has also helped me realize that a specific day or moment won’t validate any lack of feelings I may be yearning for. A hundred people saying happy birthday or Merry Christmas is not quite the same as realizing your own worth and potential.

 2)   A huge realization I had this year was just how personally I receive genuine or fake authenticity. I have noticed the difference in feelings I have between someone who is completely, beautifully raw and real versus someone who is showing face, without anything to back up their exterior motives. We are all on a journey, and everyone is at different points, of course. But my desire to be around the fakeness has dwindled to almost nonexistent. I have so many incredible people in my life who live from the most honest parts of their souls, and when you have that surrounding you, the opposite is so unappealing. It used to matter to me how someone portrayed themselves on social media or at face value, and now, it could literally not be lower on my list of things to observe in friendships. I am enveloped by pure bliss when I spend time with the people I love. There is no exterior; there are just soul connections. It is delightful.

 3)   Another big thing this past year has been dreaming BIG. Not just inside of my head, but out loud. Telling people what I want to accomplish, how I want to accomplish it and when I am going to accomplish it. Setting out intention into the universe, by holding myself accountable through my words and actions. I have been saying for almost two years now that I want to go back to school and pursue holistic nutrition. I put it out there, and it’s happening! The timing and the stars aligned, and a dream is becoming a plan. As soon as you aren’t the only one accountable, you are forced to do something about it. It might be scary as hell, but I think that’s a good thing. If it doesn’t give you nervous-happy butterflies, why would you chase after it? A couple of my favourite quotes this year have been “Be scared, and do it anyway,” followed by “Your comfort zone will kill you.” Amen to that.

 4)   This year the earth lost an angel. And he was dear to me; he was my childhood, a little brother, a sweet, sweet soul. There isn’t a day my heart doesn’t ache about him. But he left me with life lessons in a way no one else could possibly have shown me. Human beings are not immortal, we are not timeless. Our souls may carry on, but our bodies are just vessels for them right here, right now. We have no control over yesterday and we have no control over tomorrow. Our time is right now. We have infinite possibilities, but we are fragile. And the trouble is, we think we have time (thank you Buddah for that beautiful reminder). To uproot from a well paying, full-time job was not as hard as someone may think. To follow my heart and my dreams, instead of a paycheck, is what I was put on this earth to do. Give me sand and the ocean and a basket of fresh fruits, and I will be happier than any sports car or technology or giant mansion could ever make me. Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.

 5)   A final take-away is my advice to keep children close to you. To never look down on them, but into their eyes and through their eyes, so you may learn just exactly what the world has tried so hard to rob you of. Simplicity. Authenticity. Joy. Laughter. Unconditional love. It’s all there, and they are eager to show you. Their touch is soft, their words are genuine; they are magic. I have learned so much from working with kids for the last four years. They have taught me to not take life so seriously, and to always hold on a few extra seconds in a hug. They have taught me that little reminders (like a picture drawn by them) can be all you need to reset a bad or sad mood. They have taught me that falling down seven times is okay, because they’ll get up eight times. They have shown me that my only job is to accept them as they are, because they do that to me every single day. They have loved me fiercely, and in return, I have learned to love actively and without boundaries. They have spoken pockets of truth that have blown my mind. They have made me laugh and made me cry and made me scream and made me smile. The person I am today has been molded by the little hands that have held mine, by the hugs that have embraced me and the kisses that have landed on me over the last four years. I kind of already have separation anxiety, but I am so proud of how each of my littles has grown in the time I have known them. I am so excited to see how they shake the world.

  My twenty-fifth year was pretty amazing. It was full of growth and development. I am ready to take on twenty-six. I’ll continue to carrry these words of aspiration with me:

 Don’t you dare save anything for a special occasion, being alive is the special occasion.

 And I love that.

[maxfreedmanwrites-blog]

My Favorite Songs of the First Half of 2017, RANKED

This year, I decided, you know what, fuck it? I’m gonna indulge myself. I like talking about music, writing about music, and just generally being able to turn the “oh my god this SONG” in my head into actual coherent prose. This is super informal though, I’m not trying to impress The Journalism Gods™, just doing this for me mostly.  And I’m also really curious how different my end-of-year list will look from this midyear list (and by extension, how my end-of-year list will compare to my end-of-decade list). Also we might all be blown to bits by the end of this year so I just wanted to do this for once okay????

ANYWAY I’m rolling out albums tomorrow, but here’s my songs of the year so far. I’m starting you off with an alphabetical honorable mention section of 10 songs, and then I ranked my top 10 songs. For the honorable mentions, I gave a four word description so that, if you haven’t heard the song, you know whether you might dig it. Then it’s full on WORDS for the ranked top 10. Oh, and did I mention each section has a corresponding Spotify playlist? BOOM

Honorable Mentions

Presented as Artist – Album (Label), and * = I work with this artist; ^ = I previously worked with this artist

Arca – “Desafio” (XL) (weird, beautiful electronic ballad)

Balun – “Teletransporte” (Good Child Music) (entrancing, ambient pop journey)

Blanck Mass – “Silent Treatment” (Sacred Bones) (hell on the dancefloor)

Blessed – “Headache” (Coin Toss Records/Kingfisher Bluez) (art punk with math)

Chelsea Wolfe – “16 Psyche” (Sargent House) (metal, but goth rock)

Fufanu – “Liability” * (One Little Indian) (post-punk in the club)

Leyya – “Zoo” ^ (Las Vegas Records) (sassy, smack-talking deep cut)

Shame – “Tasteless” (Fnord Comms (however, this band just signed to Dead Oceans)) (classic post-punk done modern)

Yoke Lore – “Only You” (Independent Label Alliance) * (late morning sunshine inspiration)

Zola Jesus – “Exhumed” (Sacred Bones) (overwhelming, symphonic electronic drama)

Honorable Mentions playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/126489514/playlist/2AzLWfVloJH07fnmV0QeOE

Ranked Top 10

Playlist at the very bottom

10) Big Thief – “Shark Smile” (Saddle Creek)

You’ll see in my albums list tomorrow that I’ve opted to exclude Capacity, Big Thief’s newest album, from consideration just because it’s so new that I can’t really hold it up to things I’ve been enjoying for much longer, even though it’s pretty fuckin’ goddamn great. I don’t have that dilemma with songs, since they’re much shorter, but either way, “Shark Smile” has been around for at least a month longer than the album, and it hasn’t entirely left my head since I first heard it. Last year, Big Thief’s Masterpiece was #9 on my albums of the year list, and Capacity sees the band moving further inward, far less pop-oriented, as vocalist/songwriter/guitarist Adrianne Lenker explores her formative traumas; “Shark Smile” sounds like Lenker negotiating the space between the sound she wanted to achieve with each album, and it’s overwhelming and amazing. It’s a searing, painfully detailed recollection of a pretty gnarly car accident, its intensity building over the song’s course just as one’s adrenaline might accelerate while they’re in a car going over the guardrail. This is the exact scenario Lenker describes at the song’s peak, when her snarl and the band’s racket come bursting from their seams, overtaking me so strongly I usually play this song three times before moving forward with the rest of the album. “Humans,” from Masterpiece, was in my Top 5 songs last year, and this shit makes that song seem like child’s play.

9) Gabriel Garzón-Montano – “The Game” (Stones Throw)

You could look like a piece of ham growing mold between two pieces of American cheese—which isn’t even real cheese!!—and still be sexy as hell if you were the person behind “The Game.” Jardín, Gabriel Garzón-Montano’s newest album, is rife with nu-soul influence, and “The Game” is its most addicting example of how Garzón-Montano toys with the genre’s pervasive sexuality. It starts by asking its central character why he’s comparing himself to some other guy (some real lame-o, it seems), then tells him he could just roll up with swagger out the ass and have no problems anymore. Musically, it’s a soundtrack to someone running into a casual, heavily seated jazz bar and weaving his way through scores of women—this is very straight music, honestly—hoping to magically recruit one to a sensual dance and follow that with a Miguel-style Coffee In The Morning. I wonder if snarling “now walk like a tangerine” on loop in the club could find me the love of my life…probably not, but that’s because I’m not an architect of lively, jittery soul anthems like this fuckin’ guy.

8) Dream Wife – “Somebody” (Lucky Number Music)

“I am not my body/I’m somebody.” This song came out two months after the Women’s March, yet its chorus could’ve been the basis for so many of the hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of signs boldly donned across the world’s major cities. This line is preceded by vocalist Rakel Mjöll’s sarcastic reciting of some dude who doesn’t believe in rape culture’s bullshit justification for some scumbag’s actions—“You were a cute girl standing back stage/it was bound/to happen”—one of the most memorable and clearly audible lyrics to grace rock music recently, perhaps intentionally so because the point of view it’s shitting on is so despicable. Of course, even the most pointed social commentary in music is still music, so it helps that the gently overdriven guitars here are just as natural to latch onto as Mjöll’s chameleonic voice. Dream Wife don’t have to reinvent rock to make it enjoyable; mining its longstanding strengths and not beating around the bush on a frustratingly omnipresent social issue in music do that just fine.

7) Lorde – “Green Light” (Republic)

Melodrama is nearly as good as the hype says, but it’s also a June release (see Big Thief above), and I also don’t always make it past the first track 'cause godDAMN this song is impossible to dislike. “Green Light” is like if the overproduced bullshit “gracing” the airwaves on Top 40 radio had a conscience, seriously great songwriting, and a semi-intentionally clunky lyric or two to give it character (‘she thinks you love the beach/you’re such a damn liar” should’ve been the basis of more memes this year). The chorus is accessible as fuck, and by that I mean, teenage girls, pop critics, electronic fans, and straight up alternative listeners should have no trouble finding catharsis in how that enticing piano bop from the pre-chorus goes full-steam big party singalong in the chorus. Can’t you imagine this song just lighting up diverse folks occupying the same karaoke bar? Don’t you just want to get out of your seat and start dancing every time this song comes on? It’s as graceful and innately thrilling as big-bucks pop gets; even someone as pretentious and picky as myself is absolutely helpless when I hear it.

6) Perfume Genius – “Wreath” (Matador)

“Wreath” trembles throughout its entire, far too short run. There’s a constant shaking, the semblance of a heart beating its very fastest, in these incredibly fascinating synths that are equal parts bony and glitzy. This song is as celebratory as it is uneasy (a pretty apt description for No Shape at large), riveting in its experimental sounds and dramatic vocal delivery. As though Mike Hadreas’ descriptions of sunsets and sunrises demarcating new days weren’t unusually harrowing, the way his voice transforms from a relatively gentle bellow into an all-consuming howl is nothing short of arresting. Does it sound like he gradually shifts from singing the word “grave” to the word “death” in the song’s outro, or is that just me? This is seriously rattling shit, the kind of transformative experience that’ll take you out-of-body for a hot moment before you dive right back into it, because there’s no playing this song just once.

5) Palm – “Walkie Talkie” (Carpark)

Palm’s gotten its finite yet rabid fanbase from its deconstruction and subsequent repair of rock norms. There is no verse-chorus-verse, no common time, no mere sequence of eighth notes with Palm; instead, there are incredibly brainy runs of guitar-drum polyrhythms, passages where the only thing more difficult to trace than the beat is the reason you keep even trying to trace the beat when you know how futile that is. Also, there are flares of dissonant, fanged noise rushing at you from every conceivable angle. 

“Walkie Talkie” is one of Palm’s most compelling runs to date, a portrait of an art-rock band continuing to focus equally on art and rock. Whereas so many new releases depart in some manner, subtle or otherwise, from their predecessors, “Walkie Talkie” doesn’t too fundamentally fuck with Palm’s established domain of janky, demanding noise rock. It’s just another incredibly strong entry into the Palm canon, and since this band has spent its existence doing something that so few other artists are doing, that’s really all we can ask for. And I’m pretty sure the phrase “trading basics,” which is the title of their stellar 2015 album, pops up a couple times on this song, and I don’t remember hearing it ever said on the album. So sometimes sticking with what made you amazing in the first place is the right move.

4) Run the Jewels – “Thursday in the Danger Room (ft. Kamasi Washington)” (self-released)

Literally nobody came to RTJ3 to cry. Everyone who loved RTJ2’s potent mix of absolute bangers and still-necessary, eternally relevant political commentary—it’s honestly so frustrating that, even though we’re having such good conversations and Black Lives Matter has gained serious political weight (and used it amazingly), Philando Castile’s murderer was nevertheless just recently entirely acquitted—came to RTJ3 expecting the same. And they got no less of the commentary, but generally, the album is less bombastic. Not that these are ballads or anything, but holy fuck is “Thursday in the Danger Room” beautifully close to that. (Also, before we go any further, yes this song/album were technically released in 2016 but FUCK IT (also more on this in my albums list tomorrow))

I remember seeing El-P tweet that he and Killer Mike almost left this song off the album since it’s so goddamn personal. El’s verse about watching a friend slowly die—heavily implied to be a battle against something like cancer or another fatal disease—ends with some seriously tear-jerking shit, and then these two have the audacity to throw in a chorus with not just Kamasi Washington’s most solemn sax run to date, but these actual lyrics oh my god:

And I guess I'd say I'll see you soon

But the truth is that I see you now

Still talk to you like you're around

And I guess I say you left too soon

But the truth is that you never left

'Cause I never let myself forget

And then there’s Mike’s verse about a friend he lost to a mugging, and how he tried to help this friend’s family through the emotional and financial turmoil in the fallout. If somehow RTJ2’s tales of police brutality weren’t thoroughly humanizing—“Early” is especially moving—this song right here will slap the shit out of your tear ducts and really get you going. This song is as devastating as it is gorgeous, and I can’t really think of another hip-hop song with the capacity to make me tear up like this one.

3) Kelly Lee Owens – “Anxi (ft. Jenny Hval)” (Smalltown Supersound)

To be perfectly clear: the best song on Kelly Lee Owens is “CBM,” which stands a good shot at making my Top 30 or so Songs of the Decade, but since “CBM” first appeared on last year’s unreal, near-perfect Oleic EP, it doesn’t count for this list. “Anxi” is pretty fucking stellar, though, so I’m actually glad I didn’t have to decide between the two. When I chatted with Kelly Lee Owens for FLOOD Magazine earlier this year, I mentioned to her that she and featured vocalist Jenny Hval have startingly similar voices, and before I could even ask her if that’s something she gets a lot, she went off on how even she remains fascinated by how much the two sound alike. As blasphemous as this is to say, Jenny sounds even more natural on this beat—the year’s best electronic beat, in my opinion—than KLO herself might. “Anxi” is two immensely talented experimentalists bringing out the best in each other.

“Anxi” starts out innocuously enough, with a beat so subtle and murky only Kelly Lee Owens could’ve crafted it. It’s pretty amazing that KLO’s already such a distinct beatmaker this early on in her career, and having Jenny’s voice here—both in singing and spoken word form—makes the beat all the more alluring. Anyone in tune with KLO’s soundalikes—namely, IDM and especially Aphex Twin—might gauge that more is to come, so the handful of chugs that come after Hval wraps up her main appearance aren’t surprising. But that bass-heavy groove that comes in about 10 seconds later? That shit slaps, even though it’s more restrained than about 99% of electronic music. It’s a great example of KLO’s charm: her beats are really, really tightly tethered, yet they’re as body-shaking and freak-out-worthy as something by, say, Grimes or Caribou. “Anxi” is methodical, ominous, and just a fucking banger, even though it’s incredibly quiet. For lack of a better word, it’s magical.

2) (Sandy) Alex G – “Brick” (Domino)

“Brick” is a shitty song, and I mean that as high praise. It’s really just Alex G having a temper tantrum; its lyrics detailing the final stages of a relationship are clunky as shit, and there are moments where it’s just him screaming against a drum machine, and also the guitars are so muddy and loud they’re indistinct, and also these are the exact things I love about it. It verges on being bad by way of just being immature and petulant, but honestly in this era when we all want to punch everything in the face and everything is infuriating, who am I to judge? Instead, when “Brick” comes on, I give in to my visceral, unpretentious senses and go out smashing windows, toppling over newspaper stands, knocking pedestrians to the sidewalk, and lighting shit on fire.

Not actually, but that’s what “Brick” makes me want to do, and I love songs that can make me do that without sounding gross. As I described before, “Brick” should sound gross, overdone, tawdry, and all that, but it somehow finds a perfect balance of aggression and homespun emotion to be an endlessly replayable song. Honestly, I didn’t even know what its lyrics were before I looked them up; I was enthralled enough having a punching bag song, the sort of anthem that can sympathize with me on my bad days, remind me that the world at large sucks on my good days, and drown out the hysteria of the subways on any ordinary day. I’m not really much of a mosh pit guy, but “Brick” brings out the animal in me and makes me want to run headfirst into a crowd of angry showgoers and punch some faces. Everyone’s got some anger in them, and this song brings out the minimal amount that lies in me.

Also, this is essentially a hardcore punk song on Rocket, a country-lite album?! Yooooooooooooo

1) Priests – “JJ” (Sister Polygon)

“JJ” is like “Shut Up Kiss Me” but punk. I just had to say that because it’s me writing this, regardless of any true analogy there might be. But there kind of is one. (Also, yeah this song came out in late October 2016, but it’s the best song on Nothing Feels Natural, which came out in January, don’t @ me).

My eternal “Shut Up Kiss Me” obsession comes from many places: its tongue-in-cheek pop tropes; its catchy-as-hell guitars; its fiery, thrilling vocals; its joke-filled lyricism that can also be taken at face value as wholly serious; its incessant replayability. “JJ” has all this, but in an entirely different context. It’s a post-punk song with surf rock elements infused throughout, and its structure affords some novelties even though it’s mostly familiar terrain; still though, after long enough, the way Katie Alice Greer snarls “When I met you/you were just a bad attituuuuuude!/You dated a model/one time she stuck her finger in a light socket” feels more like an in-joke than a send-up of some bad ex’s even worse ex. “You were just a rich kid/low-life in a very big jacket in a very big way” precedes a diss about the entirely commonplace cigarettes this guy—let’s call him JJ—smokes, and then Katie disses her own cigarette habits before moping, with more than a hint of satirical self-pity, “You thought I was disgusting/You thought I was disgusting.” Of course, this can also be taken as an entirely serious remark, one relating her own self-image issues to this ex’s abusive words. When Katie tells us that “all the jock frat boys” called JJ a “hipster fag,” she’s simultaneously mocking him, mocking herself for dating him, and lambasting the frat culture that allows homophobic slurs to be so commonplace in the first place. As the song moves into its final chant of “Who ever deserved anything, anyway?/what a stupid concept,” it’s just as easy to imagine an angsty teenager shouting this as a friendship ends as it is to envision Katie seriously lamenting the fact that she actually held JJ to any sort of high standards. So yeah, that whole “what’s a joke, and what’s serious?” thing is on full display here.

And then, of course, there’s the music. As tongue-in-cheek pop tropes go, they’re a bit fewer and farther between here than on “Shut Up Kiss Me,” but the assertiveness that Katie presents on what’s a relatively standard structure song fits that mold. G.L. Jaguar’s catchy-as-hell guitars and Katie’s fiery, thrilling vocals and especially the incessant replayability are real as fuck, though. The guitar line that opens the song and later commands its second verse is stupidly catchy, and even when the six-string takes a bit of a backseat, its faint melancholy is pervasive; when guitars introduce the interlude following the second verse, they’re pure firebrand. Katie’s voice throughout is loaded with vibrato and drama, at times veering on parody—“I wrote a bunch of songs for you” sounds like she’s teasing JJ rather than castigating him—and it’s also a stellar fucking performance. Here’s someone who can belt, sing straight from the gut, and mutter introspectively as she sees fit. And you know what’s really great? Everything happening here goes down in under three minutes, so of course you’re gonna hit replay. I’m gonna be listening to this song constantly through the end of the decade, when I expect it’ll crack my Top 10 Songs of the Decade list. “Shut Up Kiss Me” will still be #1, but god I’m happy to have a punk version.

If you think the “Shut Up Kiss Me” comparison is a huge stretch (it definitely is, let’s be real), I have an argument in your favor. I still don’t hear the pianos on “Shut Up Kiss Me” that Angel Olsen details on Song Exploder, even though I’ve listened to that goddamn song like 500 times. Pianos on “JJ”? Everywhere, baby. And they really make all the difference.

Ranked Top 10 playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/126489514/playlist/4gt4kP3aZ5bEJoJNvn6zGH