#If You Had Seen The Bull’s Swimming Attempts You Would Have Stayed Away

[senorboombastic]

Live Review: Squid at New Century Hall in Manchester 18 October 2023

Words: Andy Hughes Ahead of a sold out live outing from southern lot Squid at Manchester’s New Century Hall this week, we took a social media nostalgia trip through our history with the band, having documented their endeavours from a back room in Liverpool to headlining the Grade II listed Albert Hall in Manchester in the space of a few years. The following night they’d be squeezing into sister…

[starlingpaw]

rat drawing based on the squid song if you had seen the bull's swimming attempts you would have stayed away :]

the imagery of rodents destroying disctionaries is so cool!!

i love o monolith i'm so glad to have it in my cd collection, can't wait to have bright green field too someday

[ratethisalbum]

#131) O Monolith

Squid

Suggested by: @pigeoncourier

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Spotify ~ Youtube

(Remember to listen first, then rate!)

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Tracklist:

Swing (In A Dream)

Devil’s Den

Siphon Song

Undergrowth

The Blades

After The Flash

Green Light

If You Had Seen The Bull's Swimming Attempts You Would Have Stayed Away

[retisonic]

25. Squid- O Monolith

A Squidet hívják poszt-punknak, art-punknak meg még tuti egy csomó minden másnak. 2021-ben volt egy elég jó lemezük, amit bírtam eléggé, meg úgy általában a kritikák is. Viszonyítási pont lehet náluk a Black Country New Road meg a Black Midi, de nekem főleg a Talking Heads, ami eszembe jut. De tényleg, így amikor hallgatom, akár ezt a lemezt, akár az előzőt, mindig életem második munkahelye jut eszembe, a hévízi Napsugár Hotel (az első a keszthelyi tejüzem volt havi 3 900 Ft-ért). Mindjárt mondom, hogy jön össze a Napsugár meg a Talking Heads, és a Squid. 1991 nyarán dolgoztam a Napsugár hotelben londinerként. Ez egy olyan szálloda volt, ami két épületből állt. Volt egy limitáltan menő épület recepcióval, ahol szolgálatot teljesítettem, és ahová az osztrák, svájci meg német nyuggerek jöttek, és volt az egyáltalán nem menő szövetkezeti épület, ahová a magyarok jöttek. A magyarok nem nagyon jattoltak, szóval nem is nagyon segítettem nekik, meg nem is jártam át oda, csak ha nagyon muszáj volt. A szálloda igazgatója Keszthely későbbi szoci polgármestere volt, aki akkoriban munkaidőben német szinkronos kung-fu filmeket nézett az irodájában. Fun fact: a 2022-es választásokra a semmiből visszatért függetlenként, és elindult harmadik erőként! Szerintem ebbe kár volt pénzt ölnie a Fidesznek, mert így mittudomán 68%-kal nyertek, a mutatvány nélkül meg győztek volna 66-tal. Keszthely egy elképesztően szomorú, vérfideszes város. A 2002-es kampányban az egyik amúgy ilyen halál szerény gimis tanárnő leköpte a sétáló utcán kampányoló Szili Katalint. Mondjuk ez így utólag elég vicces. Na de vissza a Squidhez. A Napsugárban egy fiatalabb kollégám volt a recepciósok között, a többi mind vén fasz, a szüleim ismerősei, volt osztálytársai stb. Ez persze vicces, mert most csináltam egy gyors matekot, és arra jutottam, hogy kb 40 évesek lehettek, én meg most vagyok 47. Na mindegy, a fiatal kollégával szerettem a legjobban együtt dolgozni, egy alter prototípus volt, és állítása szerint Magyarország legnagyobb David Byrne és Talking Heads rajongója (egy korábbi posztban szerintem említettem ezt az arcot), így munkaidőben kurva sok ’Headset hallgattunk, és 15 évesen én meglehetősen IDEGBAJOS zenének gondoltam. Nem utáltam, csak sokszor zavart, hogy van egy ilyen jó téma, és akkor hirtelen bejön valami kakofonikus, disszonáns rész, amit akkor úgy éltem meg, hogy ELBASSZA a számot. Na, és a Squiddel kapcsolatban is hasonló élményeim vannak, csak ma már nyilván nem azt gondolom, hogy na ez a szám el van baszva úgy ahogy van, amikor átvált egy nehezen dudolható részbe. Ennyi a nagy összefüggés!

Már az első lemeznek is témája volt az elidegenedés és az embertelenedés, itt az újon ez hatványozottan igaz. Lehet, hogy ez egy ilyen önbeteljesítő lemez, de én a legjobban akkor szerettem hallgatni, amikor esténként magányosan a Füredi úti lakótelepen sétáltam amíg a gyerek karatén volt, és akkor tényleg mindent elidegenedettnek és embertelennek láttam. Szerintem ez a lemez egy verőfényes normafás sétánál is ezt hozná ki belőlem. Mondják, hogy változott a zenekar hangzása az első lemez óta, de nekem kb ugyanaz a hangulat, csak a számok lettek kicsit hosszabbak és összetettebbek, meg a színvonal lett egységesebb. Igazából az összes szám tök oké, valamelyik azért okébb a többinél, egyedül a harmadik szám, a Siphon Song, ami szerintem túl vontatott, meg is töri kicsit a lemez lendületét. Sokkal jobban működne lemezzáró dalként, de arra meg van egy sokkal jobb, az egyik kedvencem, a meglehetősen hosszú és hülye című If You Had Seen The Bull’s Swimming Attempts You Would Have Stayed Away. Aki szereti a Talking Headset meg ezt az új poszt-punk vonalat, annak nyugodt szívvel ajánlom ezt a lemezt, meg úgy általában mindenkinek, aki, mint én, imád sötétben, ködben panelek között mászkálni.

Kedvenc számok: Swing (In A Dream), Undergrowth, The Blades, If You Had Seen The Bull’s Swimming Attempts You Would Have Stayed Away

[laszonasabisales]

Squid - O Monolith

[audiomatiquecfou]

Audiomatique 28-06-23 feat. : Chancha Via Circuito - Protomartyr - Squid - Thomas Leer - Década 2 - Intelligent Communication - Creep Show - Swans - Synapscape

L’émission de radio Audiomatique du 28 juin 2023 Transmission 452 présentée de 17 h à 18 h sur les ondes de CFOU 89,1 FM animée par Les Sonoristes

Radio show Audiomatique June 28, 2023 Transmission 452 aired from 5 PM to 6 PM on CFOU 89,1 FM hosted by Les Sonoristes

1) Chancha Via Circuito : « Dandeleon » (La Estrella)

2) Protomartyr : « Rain Garden » (Formal Growth in the Desert)

3) Squid : « If You Had Seen The Bull’s Swimming Attempts, You Would Have Stayed Away » (O Monolith)

4) Thomas Leer : « Tight As A Drum » (Various Artists - Additive Noise Function)

5) Década 2 : « Alfabeto (Cold Version) » (Various Artists - Back Up: Mexican Tecno Pop 1980-1989)

6) Intelligent Communication : « Drive » (Principles Of Motion)

7) Creep Show : « Matinee » (Yawning Abyss)

8) Swans : « Ebbing » (The Beggar)

9) Synapscape : « 3rd In The Orbit » (Raw)

Écoutez en différé / Listen : https://archive.org/details/audiomatique-28-06-23 https://www.tumblr.com/audiomatiquecfou Contact : audiomatiquecfou@gmail.com Facebook : www.facebook.com/audiomatiquecfou

[upalldown]

Squid - O Monolith

Second full-length album from the Brighton post-punk band produced by Dan Carey

8/13

Like Squid’s debut, O Monolith begs for attentive listening. While 2021's Bright Green Field was by no means the serene country land of its title – in fact, it leant heavily on concrete – comparatively it is a pastoral stroll. O Monolith is a torn-up patchwork of terrain; scorching sands sutured violently into haunting forestry, sprawling ocean scapes tidally enveloping dense metropolitan high-rises.

The non-hierarchical ethic of the Brighton five-piece affects a wilding selection of contrasting musical ideas upon their output. For most bands, this tapestry of sounds would flounder and reject its connectivity, but Squid successfully stitch diverse concepts into one brooding work.

The ecstatic electro-terror of Swing (In A Dream) should (but does not) jar in its preceding of Devil’s Den, a woodwind-heavy number, harmonious and gentle in its infancy but characteristically explosive in its latter moments. The Blades is premised on a minimalist glitch-beat evocative of Syro-era Aphex Twin, and grows to a fuzzing swirl tangling with Ollie Judge’s wailing.

The final track of the project is the most worthy of being considered monolithic in its own right. If You Had Seen the Bull’s Swimming Attempts You Would Have Stayed Away provides three distinct sonic variations in its first minute alone, and does not rest on its laurels from thereon out. It encapsulates O Monolith, and elevates it.

https://www.theskinny.co.uk/music/reviews/albums/squid-o-monolith

[ithinkibetterfollowyouaround]

Squid - "Swing (In A Dream)"

Squid have share the first single, “Swing (In A Dream)”, off their upcoming album “O Monolith” out June 9th via Warp. TRACKLIST:1. Swing (In a Dream)2. Devil’s Den3. Siphon Song4. Undergrowth5. The Blades6. After The Flash7. Green Light8. If You Had Seen The Bull’s Swimming Attempts You Would Have Stayed Away The vet deo for the album opener was directed by Yoonha Park. This is what Yoonha said…

[dracolizardlars]

the downside of listening to an album made by Lauren Bousfield for the first time: having to fucking type all of this out for my listening-record database

Lauren stop making extremely short tracks with extremely long titles challenge!!!!

(Edit: I just checked to see if my "longest song title" record had been broken, but no, that title still belongs to "If You Had Seen The Bull's Swimming Attempts You Would Have Stayed Away" by Squid, who normally have perfectly reasonable titles)

finally getting around to listening to music that Lauren Bousfield put out under her own name (as opposed to, as Nero's Day At Disneyland). yesterday I saw my friend's brother and we ended up talking about her music and he reccomended his favourite album, Avalon Vales. so far sounds exactrly like the Nero's album From Rotting Fantasylands which means it's like the music equivalent of crack cocaine for my brain 100000/10

[lordabovehelpme]

Save the Day- Din Djarin x Reader

Request: For your DFWL series (which is the best series? I?) May I request for reeza and the twins somehow accidently break a vase or something, and Myles has to be a big brother and attempt to like fix it and try to make sure the parents dont find out cause they went out for a bit? Or just hcs of Myles being a good big bro because i think it would be the cutest! - anon

A/n: Hello lovely! I am so happy to hear that you have been enjoying DFWL so far! I know I have been having a blast writing it! This is such a good idea, so I hope you enjoy this chapter!!! Love ya! 

This is the next chapter of my Days filled with Love series. You can find the first chapter here! :) 

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

“Okay Ready?” Reeza asks as she grabs the back of Isabets little legs.

“REE VAH!” A pat is given to Reeza’s head and she laughs.

“Alright, hold on!” She leans forward a little and starts to kick her foot, just as Paz had told them bulls do. “MMmmmmmmmm.” She takes off and sprints around the meadow.

Both girls giggle and scream as they feel like they are flying. Tobbi laughs from where he sits with Grogu, crayons and markers all over the porch. Myles happily draws pictures with his fellow brothers.

The five of them were supposed to be being watched by Paz. However, the giant warrior had ultimately fallen asleep on the couch. Who could blame him? Five energetic kids is a lot to watch.

You and Din are out on a date, one eagerly prompted by their uncle. “You guys never get out anymore. Go have fun! I’ll watch the kids. And maybe you can come back with the news of another!”

You had blushed and complained that your family was already big enough. But the two mandalorians, in their mandalorian way, giggled back and forth. They assured you that in their culture, a family never stops growing. However they both laughed when you sighed, “My back already hurts.”

So here the kids are, having already worn their uncle out and still lots of energy to keep them up.

“MYLES!” Reeza rushes back to her brothers with Isabet still on her back.

“What?” He looks up from his very detailed landscape he was currently drawing.

“BEES!”

“What do you- BEES!” Flying behind the two girls is a swarm of insects, instantly recognized from the bright yellow and buzz of their wings. Myles, ever the quick thinker, yells out, “GO TO THE LAKE! THEY CAN’T GET YOU IN WATER!”

Reeza runs as fast as her legs will carry her. “Okay Issy, time to learn how to swim!” She gets about hip deep before taking her sister into her arms. Making sure both their heads stay above the water she gets as deep as she can into the lake.

A loud battle cry comes from Myles as he runs to the shore where the bees have stopped. In his hand he pulls the hose and aims it towards the swarm. Holding it like a blaster, just the way his father taught him, he places his finger over the nozzle. The spray of water becomes harsh and unforgiving.

“HAH TAKE THAT! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU MESS WITH THE DJARINS!”

“WAIT WHAT ABOUT TOBBI AND GROGU?” Reeza calls out from the safety of the lake.

“CRAP!” Myles instantly drops the hose and runs back to the house, on a mission to keep his brothers safe. Rushing up to the porch he scoops his brothers into his arms and does a 180, sprinting towards the lake. Tobbi squeals in delight and his little legs kick as Myles enters the water.

The five of them wait for about seven minutes before starting to bicker about who will walk out first.

“Myles, you're the oldest, you go first.”

“But I’m holding Grogu and Tobbi, and I can hold Isabet, you can’t hold all three of them. We are the older siblings so we have to keep them safe.”

Reeza huffs before realizing her brother is correct. “Fine, but if I die it’s your fault.” She hands Isabet to Myles before slowly wadding towards the shore. It’s a humorous sight. Myles, waist deep in the water with his three squirming siblings in his arms.

All four children watch as their sister walks onto the shore and cautiously looks around. She does a full 360, checking for the insects.

“Okay, it’s alright.”

***

Now in clean dry clothes the children decided that maybe it is safer to stay inside.

Paz is still passed out on the couch, and the kids, trying to be as respectful as they can, decided that the living room is off limits.

They are currently in the kitchen, on a mission for snacks. Raiding cabinet after cabinet they eventually find the items that appeal to them most.

“Let’s eat the grapes in the fridge too, Mom always says we have to eat as many fruits as we do crackers.”

Happy with this, Reeza sits down at the table after strapping her siblings into their chairs.

Myles opens the fridge and grabs the bowl of fruit you had cut up this morning as well as some peanut butter. Reeza opens the packet of crackers and places them in a design on a plate.

“We shall dine like Kings and Queens!” She announces while tucking her napkin into her shirt. Myles laughs while sitting down at his own seat.

Grogu, noticing the lack of parents, smiles before holding his hand out. A single grape rises from the bowl. Tobbi giggles while he holds a cracker in his fist.

Reeza drops down from her seat and rushes over to the side of the room. “Grogu, let’s play a game. You throw the fruit around and I’ll try to catch it with my mouth!”

Grogu claps his hands in agreement. Instantly the grap flies through the air towards Reeza. She leans towards the right and effectively catches it in her mouth. All five kids erupt in laughter. Well, except Isabet, she just sits with a scowl on her face, but you all have come to realize it is just her natural face.

This game goes on until the bowl is almost empty. Grogu has Reeza doing rolls and jumps to try and get the food. However, on the last piece of fruit Grogu throws it towards her left. She rolls and goes to stand up, but…

BAM!

It almost happens in slow motion. She had run into the tall table you have near the window. Some of your trusted house plants rest there as it is one of the places that the house gets the most sun. The vase with a bouquet of wildflowers the kids had picked you wobbles. It shakes and then tilts off of the table.

They all watch in horror as the vase crashes to the floor. Thankfully it landed on the mat by the door so it only broke into about six pieces, but water goes everywhere.

Reeza turns to her brother, head tucked into her shoulders and tears welling at her eyes. Myles runs about four different scenarios through his head in the span of a couple seconds, weighing each option against one another.

After only five seconds he has a plan. Rushing over to his sister he hugs her. “It’s okay.”  

“Mom is going to be so mad!” Tears start to fall on her cheeks.

“No no it’ll be fine. We’ll fix it. But I’m going to need your help, alright?” He looks at her. She wipes away her tears and nods. “Okay I need you to go grab some towels.” She nods again and rushes off towards the laundry room.

Myles turns to where his three siblings sit at the table, all their eyes wide. “You guys stay put, we don’t want glass to get into your feet.”

When none of them go to move he turns towards the oven. Grabbing a stove mit he starts to pick up pieces of the vase. Separating the glass and the flowers, he’s happy when he has two piles.

Reeza bounds down the stairs, quieter than usual as she doesn’t want to wake their uncle. In her hands are two towels.

“Okay, I think I got all the glass up but be careful. Go ahead and put the first towel on the ground and try to soak up as much as you can.” Following his command she does exactly as told. “I am going to go get some glue, don’t let them leave the table.”

Running as fast as he can, he rushes to where his father has supplies to fix about anything. Opening drawer after drawer he finally finds some super glue. “Perfect!”

Making a mental note of where he found the glue he goes back to the kitchen. Analysing the broken pieces he can see where the pieces fit together. Being extra careful, he applies glue to one piece and then another, and presses them together.

“Reeza how is the water going?”

“Towel one is soaked but all the water is up.”

“Great, can you please go quickly throw those in the hamper and put the clean towel back where you found it.”

She nods, her face as serious as he’s ever seen it.

“Okay Grogu, I need your help.” At the sound of his name, he looks up at his brother. “Can you hold these pieces together?” As if it were magic, the pieces are pressed against one another and held in place. Grogu coos, overjoyed that his older brother needs him.

“Perfect! Now I am going to start to glue and add more pieces, so can you do more than one at a time?”

Grogu coos once again and his little eyebrows furrow in concentration. When Myles adds another piece, he effectively holds it right in place. “Alright! There we go!”

Reeza sits down next to her brother, however her usual bright cheery smile is replaced by a frown. “Do you think Mommy is going to be mad?”

Picking his words carefully, Myles turns to look at her. “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll tell them. They won’t be mad at you.”

***

The vase is officially glued back together and it seems to be holding water. The glue is back where Myles found it and the flowers are back in the vase.

“Parents alert!” Reeza informs from where she was sitting at the window. In the distance she can see the Crest flying towards the house.

“Okay time for the clean protocol!”

They move faster than they ever have before. They pick up the crayons and markers from outside, put away the dishes from the kitchen, and settle in on the couch with their uncle. The house looks just as you had left it, no evidence of their eventful day.

Just as they practiced, as soon as the door is unlocked, they all close their eyes and pretend to be asleep. Even the twins know the routine by now.

“Oh babe, look how cute!” They can hear your hushed voice as you talk to their dad.

“Uh hum. You could hear Paz’s snore from the next planet over.”

A soft slap echos through the living room. “Don’t be mean, he gave up his day so we could go out. Be nice.”

They listen as your footsteps get closer and you pick the twins up. Still playing the part, they keep their eyes closed.

“Paz?” Your hushed voice tries to wake him.

The giant warrior stirs before finally waking. “Hmm what?”

“Glad to see you’re awake. We’re back.”

“I can see that.”

You giggle. “How were the kids?”

His arms lift as he looks around and counts heads. “They were great!”

“That’s good. Are you going to stay the night? I know it’s late and I��d hate to kick you out.”

“It’s late?” He mumbles to himself. “Oh umm no, I need to get back but if you need me to stay I can.”

“Oh no it’s alright. Thank you again for watching them.”

“Yeah no problem. You know how much I love them.”

Din has already taken the twins and Grogu up to their room and put them down. He walks back down just as Paz rises from the couch. They give one another a hug and a firm pat on the back. “Thanks man.”

“For sure.” Paz looks back at you before turning towards his brother. “When are you two having the next one?”

Din chuckles. “You try and ask her. Last time I did I had to carry a twenty pound weight around for a week. That shit’s not fun.”

Paz lets out a loud laugh but immediately stops after you scowl at him and point to the kids. “Sorry.”

After the three of you talk for a few more minutes, Paz makes his way out of the door. You sit down on the couch between Reeza and Myles. Reeza shuffles a little and settles down onto your lap. You smile and start to softly brush her hair.

Myles opens his eyes, as if he just woke up. “Hi Mom.”

“Hi baby.” Your arm wraps around his shoulder and pulls him close to you, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How was your day?”

“It was good… uneventful.” It takes everything in Reeza to stop herself from snickering.

“Oh, that’s good.” Din sits down on the other side of Myles and places his arm on the back of the couch, keeping all three of you within his hold.

“How was your date?”

“It was good, although I missed you guys.” You press another kiss to Myles cheek and he giggles.

“Your mother has separation anxiety.”

Myles laughs while you glare at your husband. “Of course I do! You guys are my babies.” Looking down at Reeza, you scratch her back and you feel a shiver run down her spine.

“Time to go to bed.” Your husband huffs as he stands up, taking Reeza into his arms he beckons Myles to follow him. “Say goodnight to your mother.”

“Goodnight mom.” Myles wraps his arms around your neck and presses a kiss to your cheek. You smile and hold him close.

“Goodnight my love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

You turn the faucet and warm water starts to run. Hands grip at your hips and kisses are placed against the back of your neck. He pulls the zipper down on the back of your dress. Every inch of skin that is revealed to him he sucks and nips at it.

“You looked so good in this dress.”

Turning around in his arms, you press a kiss to his lips. “Mm thank you.”

He growls as you bite his bottom lip.

“Reeza was awake, wasn’t she?”

“Definitely.”

You giggle and slip from his hold. “They’re so funny. I hope they were alright today.”

He sighs as he realizes he’s not getting as lucky as he originally thought. “Cyare, you worry too much. They said they had a great day.”

You slip into the bubbly water and lean forward, silently asking him to slide in behind you. “I can’t help it.”

He kicks off his pants and sits behind you, pulling you into his chest. You rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes.

The two of you just stay against each other in the comfort of warm water for a second.

“Cyare?”

“Mmm?”

His hand moves over your stomach. “Are you sure you don’t want another one?”

You sigh. “Din, babe, the twins aren’t even one yet.”

“Soooo?”

You laugh, “You’re insatiable. You can ask again in a year. I need a break for right now.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I just love you so much.” You turn your head so he can press a kiss to your lips. “And our family.”

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

Next Part: Rainy Day

I hope you all liked it! 

Please consider leaving a comment or reblogging, I love hearing what you all have to say! It makes my day! 

Love, Lordy :) 

Masterlist 

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart @remmysbounty @t3a-bag​

If you want to be added/removed from my taglist- just give me a holler! :)

[senorboombastic]

Release Rundown - Squid and Godflesh

Words: Ben Forrester (Photo Credit: Studio UJ) Squid – O Monolith(Warp) 2019 felt like the year that all the weird little indie bands came out to play, wanting to talk to you about ‘Spiderland’ or Radiohead B-Sides or some obscure jazz record. Squid slotted into that crop quite snuggly, thanks to their brilliantly proggy tendencies that reached a peak on their wonderfully ambitious debut…

[bitchardhendricks]

Well I’ve Never Been to Heaven (But I’ve Been to Oklahoma) pt 17

I know it’s been a terribly long time since I last updated - to be frank, the last couple of weeks have been almost too full to bear. Wife and I foster dogs through a local shelter, and our most recent was a hospice foster whom we had for the last 6 months (aka all of quarantine and beyond). He finally declined to the point that we had to make the call, and we said goodbye to him last weekend and honestly? I’ve been too sad to do much writing or thinking about writing, because this loss, even though it was an expected one, has left a massive hole in my heart. Unrelated, but I am now in the remote wilderness of Colorado in a cabin for Wife’s 30th birthday - essentially sheltering in place, but with a hot tub and mountain views. It finally feels a little easier to breathe and the getaway has done me a lot of good. Here’s an extra-long update of Tulsa fic for an extra-long wait. I hope you all are taking care of yourselves out there and giving yourself breaks where you can. Catch up on past entries here, and come say hi and tell me about the pets that you’ve loved.

***

When Richard opens his eyes on Saturday morning with his face smushed against his pillow he suffers a dizzying moment of time travel - he’s in his childhood bedroom wearing one of his old high school t-shirts and seeing his Ninja Turtle sleeping bags rolled up on the floor. But there’s no Big Head playing N64 at the foot of his bed, and his sheets smell like detergent and some familiar floral scent he can’t quite place, not spilled Red Bull and teen boy sweat. 

He flops over onto his back and closes his eyes for a moment, breathes deeply through his nose. Hears his sister’s voice, teasing but not mean: mooning over someone, that’s what he looks like. His mother’s voice. He’s a million miles away, like always. Jared’s voice, hushed in the dark. All I wanted was to find a place that I belonged, where I was wanted. Isn’t that what Richard always wanted too? Jesus, how many nights did he spend in this room, in this bed counting down the days until he could finally fucking escape, trying with all his might to think himself away from this place. “Creation is an act of sheer will,” after all.

And what did you create, Richie? 

You made a shitty music player that no one fucking wanted, and you gave away your one good idea to your competition. What does that leave you with - a great company name? Shit, if Jared hadn't seen the potential of the algorithm, you wouldn't even have a company. Jared sparked the idea for middle-out. Without him, you wouldn't have middle-out, you wouldn't be a CEO. You wouldn't have anything at all.

Maybe Jared knows what he's talking about. 

***

Diane’s already awake, a coffee cup cradled in her hands at the kitchen table, when Jared carefully and quietly emerges from Richard’s bedroom and shuts the door. 

“Mornin’ sugar,” she whispers and gestures for Jared to sit next to her, which he does. "I didn't expect anyone to be awake yet on a Saturday. You must be an early riser, like me. Here, sit you a spell, lemme grab you some coffee. Did you sleep well?” she asks, as she gets up to fetch him a mug of his own. This force of Diane's maternal energy continues to catch him off guard, and he reaches for an answer like a man in an unfamiliar hotel room groping for the light.

“Oh yes, they were all nightmares I’ve had before so I knew my escape routes. I feel fresh as a daisy!”

“Mm, that’s good,” she replies, sounding far away as she rummages through a cabinet and pulls out a mug, then pads over to the coffee pot to fill it. “You take cream and sugar, sweetheart?”

“Black is fine,” Jared says, and gratefully accepts the cup she offers him. It says HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY in comic sans font surrounding a faded photo of the entire Hendricks family, sometime in the mid-90s from the look of the boldly patterned oversize knit sweater on Steven and the perms sported by both Diane and Caitlyn. They’re standing in a verdant field in front of a split rail fence, Steven and Diane in the back, Caitlyn and Richard in front; Richard is a skinny, coltish boy, those auburn curls still a riot around his head, his father’s hand clapped firm over his left shoulder. 

“Somethin’ wrong, sugar?” Diane asks him, and Jared startles from his reverie. He shakes his head, quickly takes a sip, “Mm, no. This is good, thank you, Diane.” He tries very hard not to think about his strange, alien presence in the warmth of this woman’s home, with her powder blue terrycloth robe and her commissioned family mugs. They sit in silence for a moment, listening to the birds chirping outside the kitchen window. 

“Jared, honey, can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course,” Jared says, caught off guard. His fingers play with the collar of his plain white t-shirt. 

“Richard has always been...sensitive. He acts standoffish, but he - he takes things hard, you know? I thought he might grow out of it. He was such a sweet little boy...used to pick dandelions for me on the way home from school, almost every day. Can you believe that?” 

Jared looks at the unabashed grin on 9-year-old Richard’s face, standing in a field and squinting into the sun, laughing with his family. He can believe it. “Yes,” he says, but Diane doesn’t seem to really hear him as she continues.

“But you know, high school and hormones, and my lord did that boy get moody!” She laughs a little, but it sounds sad. “I just...ever since he went off to college, I feel him slippin’ further and further away from me. Does he - well, what does he say about us, exactly? Does he ever talk about us?”

Jared’s expression must reveal more than he intended, because she nods before he can speak. “Ah. That’s what I thought.”

“But it’s not,” Jared hurries to reassure her, “I don’t think it is what you think. Richard doesn’t talk about his past really, or anything altogether personal.” Except this weekend, his mind whispers and he tries not to flush. He’s full of stories this weekend. And those long nights in the garage, in the bathtub, in bathrooms of VC offices; all those fears, all those anxieties. It feels so terribly personal, but listen to what his own mother is telling you and give up all those fantasies that it could be anything else - it’s just business, Donald. He rushes on, “You have to understand, Diane, the tremendous pressure he’s under. There’s not really time or, or room for - “ but he falters, unsure how to proceed when he doesn’t really believe what he’s saying. 

“Oh I know, he’s busy, always so busy. Off being a big shot CEO, I get it. I just wish...” she shakes her head, looks down into her coffee mug. 

“I know you must miss him terribly,” Jared says, grimly picturing the ragged hole in his chest that would remain if Richard ever left him behind. 

“Sometimes I wonder if...does he hate me, Jared? Is that why he won’t come home?” 

“Oh gosh in heaven, no!” Heedless of houseguest decorum, he places one of his hands over her smaller one on the table and squeezes in an attempt to comfort her. Her only crime is loving Richard too much, an infraction he is all too familiar with. He can’t help but offer her a balm to soothe, even if it’s not his place. “He misses you, and he loves you. I think...I think Richard is someone who tends to live inside himself a great deal, and doesn’t always pay attention to the effect he can have on other people.” Jared can feel his ears pinking, but he soldiers on. “He’s like a shark, always moving forward, never pausing to rest because he has to attack the next problem and the next. And while that means he can stay focused on creating wonderful things, it also means he doesn’t always notice the little remoras swimming around him, taking care of him so that he can keep on swimming and avoid deadly parasitic infections.”

Diane looks at Jared, her face drawn and tight, an expression so like her son’s face when he’s working out a problem. Her eyes search his, and for a moment, Jared has the terrible urge to shrink before her, a child under scrutiny. “And is there someone,” her voice falters, “takin’ care of him?”

He’s caught, his heart thrumming like a rabbit’s in a snare, but he’s helpless against those wild blue eyes, and he nods. 

“And is he happy?” She has turned her hand so that her fingers are now clutching at Jared’s, feverish. A woman holding onto a lifeline. 

Jared wants to say yes, wants to say it’s terrifying and exhausting and every day is an uphill climb but we are building something magical together and he wants to say I am doing everything I can to make him happy because he said no to Gavin’s money and I didn’t know people could do that. What he actually says is, “I - I want him to be.”

She searches his face, her expression unreadable, then releases Jared’s hand immediately as Caitlyn pads down the hallway in an oversized OKC Thunder t-shirt and plaid sleep pants, yawning loudly. “Hey, mama, did you make coffee?”

[fuapocalypse]

Chapter 1

The cabin was large, least to be said, and made entirely out of the finest spruce wood. It’s secluded location made it perfect for a group of young adults to find some peace. The windows were fine and clean with a slight glint upon them originating from the dazed glance of the disappearing sun. For miles and miles nothing to be seen except nature. The perfect tranquil dream.

Diagonal of the idyllic structure, stood a wooden gazebo near to a deep pool of water, golden by the beating suns rays. The water was deep, deep enough in some areas to drown even the tallest of people. The pool lay, surrounded by a tile deck of blues and greens and a colour that is both yet not quite either.

The silence was so loud that it was deafening. The cry of a bird was lost to the endless expanse for no one was near enough to catch the sound nor to reciprocate. The sky was clear, pale blue and with only two lines of white panning across its expanse in the wake of airplanes travelling to nations unbeknownst to most.

A doe stood still in the forest, grazing upon the long grass, relishing its cool moisture. A branch snapped and the animal was gone, instincts having overrun the need for nourishment. A car, a jeep to be exact, drove slowly through the forest, parking upon an eroded square beside the cabin.

The silence was broken.

“How the hell did you manage to rent this place anyway?” A voice emitted from the vehicle, a low yet feminine voice with a light rasp and a strong English accent. A girl, with whom the voice had originated, stepped out and into the relentless sun. Sun-kissed skin glowing.

“My mom paid for it, Grace. She knows people.” Another voice replied, a higher voice, a voice with such elegance that such a voice cannot be imagined to do such other a thing than sing in the grandest of theatres, replied. It belonged to Gen, a young girl with chocolate brown hair and eyes of such a dark blue that they may have been made of gemstones.

“That makes her sound so fucking creepy. Like a mob boss or something.” A girl sporting a black beanie and short blonde hair jumped out from her place in the car, stretching as she did so. Her eyes were sea green but not the kind of shade that's easy to describe. It was almost like they were both green and blue at the same time, with turquoise creeping in around the edges as if it were trying to take over.

“Yeah. Yeah. Shut up Kay!” Michaela, known as ‘Kay’, chucked and let the others out of the back of the car and took her place standing by Grace at the rear of the car. Grace was shorter than Kay, if only by an inch, yet contrasted to her in almost every way. Grace had chocolate brown eyes, tanned sun glazed skin and long deep brown hair while Kay’s skin was pale and her hair had always been light.

Two young men stepped out of the van, one the polar opposite of the other. KC, the older man, was short and portly with scruffy brown hair and eyes so dark they may as well have been a solar eclipse. Cullen, however, was tall and muscular, with eyes that were mossy green orbs with rings of cedar brown - they twinkled with a sharp gleam like that of a tiger staking its prey. His gaze was both of a wise professor and a bloodthirsty murderer: it called for respect and promised severe consequences for denying him.

Following closely behind were three young girls, one significantly shorter than the other two. The tallest of the three, Amber Kort, had long almost white hair pulled back into a ponytail with wisps falling down and framing her face. Her eyes were blue, however, to say that her eyes were blue would be to say that the sun was yellow. Sufficient but not enough to capture the blazing heat. They were hot, cold and warm all at once.

Beside her stood her half-sister, shortest of all the group, Scarlett Max, eyes influenced by the bright day, eliciting the opinion that they were almost purple in that light. Her hair mirrored that of her sister, with barely four months between them, the two were as similar in looks as they were in maturity.

The last of the young girls walked with a majesty one would only expect from a Queen and yet had the grace of a bull in a china shop. She stood just above Scarlett and below Gen in height and yet shorter than all the others who had little to no difference between one another. Her hair was dyed a velvet red that accented her cognac brown eyes, covered mostly by heavily pounded makeup.

“This place is fucking huge!” Kay exclaimed upon her first glance within the cabin, the door lay open behind the group as it allowed the old air to escape and breathed new air in, walls creaking as they contracted like lungs to welcome the fresh summer breeze.

“You don’t even understand how amazed I am at all of this.” Amber grinned at the sight before her, a twenty inch flat screen tv. She carefully ran a finger across the top of the device, dusty, as she’d expected.

“I think we’ve all established that this place is cool.” Grace stated, matter-of-factly as she lugged her suitcase into the cabin.

“You think there’s food here?” The group turned around to see that KC had barely scratched the surface of the steps leading to the cabin. With a chuckle, they all rolled their eyes in unison at KC’s obviously greediness.

“Who’s sleeping where? There are three rooms, I call dibs on top floor, I’ve seen the view from up there.” Gen laughed to herself as she began dragging her large duffel bag up the stairs to the third floor. Gen spoke with a thick American accent, a more familiar tongue in the state of Mississippi.

“Sure. We all decided on the way down anyway. Gen, Scarlett and Kay will be together. Cullen and KC. Me, Grace and Lindsay.” Amber said, holding the plans they had prepared for that very situation. Amber was always prepared, not much could deter her.

“Last one in the pool has to cook tonight!” Gen rolled her eyes at her friends’ playfulness as she watched them all bolt up the stairs, almost throwing her to the ground in the process. She was short, almost as short as Lindsay but yet still had at least two inches above her, that did not mean that she survived well amongst taller people. In that department, she was a little lacking.

“Aren’t you going swimming, Cullen?” The two men stood in their room, one sprawled upon a single bed whilst the other fought to pull swimming trunks passed his thighs.

“Nah. Swimming’s not really my thing. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Cullen stated firmly, in a low and rough Irish accent, he’d prefer to stay indoors anyway. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his friends but more that he preferred being alone to swimming in a pool full of them. Especially KC, who wasn’t even his friend anyway. He didn’t know anyone here really, anyone accept Kay.

“C’mon! Everyone else is!” Cullen could tell at that very moment that he would not be putting up a very good fight against KC anytime soon. The boy was annoying, maddening, and held a feeling about him, a feeling that was telling Cullen to break his nose and walk the hell away. Yet he did no such thing.

Cullen replied simply by raising his middle finger in the other man’s direction. KC huffed grumpily, like he was going to go out there with a ton of girls alone in his swimming trunks, friends or not he was sure they’d make fun of him. Tease him about his weight and surprisingly small ‘foot size’.

“Fine. Then I won’t go neither.” KC slumped upon his bed in anger, causing the furniture to creak and sink slightly under his weight, fighting to stay in one piece.

“I don’t give a shit what you do.” Cullen demonstrated no favour toward KC, he seemed off. Something about him made Cullen feel sick and it wasn’t down to his lack of hygiene, wasn’t entirely down to his lack of hygiene.

KC stormed out of the room in anger and began on his way toward the pool, the ground shaking under his accessive weight, body wobbling unceremoniously synchronised to the shaking on the ground underfoot.

“So Kay, why exactly did you bring us all out here?” Kay sighed in defeat, she’d spent hours on the train and then the plane contemplating the answers to give. Whether to remain silent, subtle or lie by the skin of her teeth. It seemed impossible. Should she tell them the truth, they may react badly. Subtlety has always been a specialty. Lying seems like the least attractive offer.

She heaved a deep breath and left it escape unceremoniously from her pale lips.

“We just needed to get away and I really missed Gen, it’s been a while since I last saw her. Over a year.” Grace smiled softly in thanks at Kay. Kay’s lips opened as she attempted to gasp out in warning. But she was too late.

Behind Gen stood a large man wearing only black. His eyes were dark and held a hollowness about them, almost as though they were not his own but that of an animal.

Above him he held a large object, merely a shadow before the bright sun. Water poured from the object and doused Gen, laugher erupted from behind her as KC gripped his knees in a desperate attempt to remain steady upon his feet.

“Fight me.” Gen growled out, furrowing her brow and gritting her teeth in anger. Only did her resolve break when KC started to tremble. Gen could not contain the laugher rumbling through her body at the sight of this large man, terrified of her, short as she was.

“Give the guy a break Gen. Look at him. He’s about to piss himself.” Grace tried to sympathise but no one could physically contain the laugher at the sight of KC.

“Yeah, give me a break. I’m the only guy here, if you ignore the Suicidal Prick upstairs.” Silence washed over them like a wildfire as Kay took a few practiced steps toward him.

“Don’t you fucking dare call him that! Just because he likes to be alone doesn’t mean that he’s fucking depressed!” And with that, everyone sat still, not a movement between any of them, barely the gentle sound of breathing. Kay stormed away, cussing as she made her exit toward the building.

“KC, That wasn’t very nice. Kay just wanted to bring us all together. Cullen doesn’t know anyone here.” Gen chipped in, she’d seen Kay mad before, more so than this, and therefore it held a weaker impact on her. However, that didn’t mean that KC wasn’t completely out of place in what he said.

“It wasn’t like I said anything bad. It was a joke. Jeez.” KC had never seen so many people look upon him with distain as his friends and acquaintances were now.

“Fine. Fuck you all.” KC grumbled bitterly as he headed toward the woods. They were thick and dense, ranging for miles upon miles before hitting the closest means of civilisation.

Gen and Scarlett sat outside placing sticks in a large pile surrounded by a circle of large rocks. Amber held a match, lit and held as far away from her person as physically possible. With a flick of her wrist, the match sprang onto the pile, setting the dry sticks alight.

Everyone stood still, alert eyes focussed on the flame as it tangoed, smoke filling the air, filling their lungs. Cullen glanced down upon the scene, eyes trained upon the flickering blaze, the cracking of the branches to be hearted from even such a distance as the one he was at.

“Hey Amber, why was KC invited? He’s a dick.” Amber replied simply with a non committed shrug as her eyes glued themselves to her phone, hand slowly creeping to her ear to place the earphone within it, attempting to play music without Grace noticing.

“I mean, he was nice before, you know but after we caught him lying about the whole ‘having cancer’ thing I guess he hasn’t been the same. Personally, I think he’s changed overall. He honestly reminds me of Levy.” Amber breathed out a laugh at the mention of Levy. She and Levy had barely been friends, a simple ‘I don’t like you’ made certain of that factor.

“Do you know anything about Gen or Cullen?” Grace shook her head in reply. She’d heard about Cullen from Kay but hadn’t really had the chance to meet him herself. He was ‘tough but soft really’ or so Kay would put it. His heart had the texture of a crab, solid until broken into. Few had tried, even less had succeeded and the one who did, left her mark.

“Gen’s nice. She knew Kay before she moved to Cornwall. Before us, so they’re like really close, I guess.” Neither appeared to have any interest in the conversation, having been worn out by a long day travelling and tackling the act of swimming. “She seems very-“ Amber was cut off by a loud voice, flooding with electricity.

“Who wants to sing?” A chorus of agreement flowed through the secluded area and Amber grabbed her ukulele in excitement, leaving Billie Eilish to sing ‘six feet under’ to herself, as her voice was lost to the joyous cries claiming to who should go first.

“Maybe we should all sing something together first?” Scarlett suggested in a hopeful attempt to resolve the problem and to her relief it was followed by an echo of submission from her friends.

“I know exactly what to sing!” Exclaimed Grace happily. It was a tough task, finding a song that all parties enjoyed, all with the exception of KC who had not yet returned without a trace.

Grace leaned over to Amber, the group began to take their places on the seats surrounding the fire in an off-perfect circle, and whispered something inaudible to everyone present. A smile slowly spread across Amber’s features, and she began to strum.

Everyone, without a second to doubt or deny the thought, recognised the riff and began to sing the first line of the infamous song.

“If you’re evil and you’re on the rise, you can count on the four of us taking you down...” The song concluded with a wave of laughter that caught the group and spread like the common cold.

A huge thank you to @bisexual-mess-ready-for-death who was the biggest inspiration and contributer toward the creation. She kept me motivated and I hope to post more chapters in the near future. I hope you all enjoyed :)

[artificialqueens]

Everything is Better in My Ugly Christmas Sweater (Pearlet) - Sammy Indigo

A/N: This is a story about a sweater. I own a total of fourteen holiday sweaters/cardigans/tshirts, and therefore I cannot relate to those of you who do not enjoy the concept of an ugly holiday sweater. We’ve made it through the first week of December! Keep it up, loves xxx

November 28th

“It’s not even December, yet, Pearl.” Violet huffed slightly as a large man with two small children cut her off in their haste to cross through the ladies’ section of the department store to get to the toys. “And it’s irrelevant, anyway, because you know I wouldn’t be seen dead in one.”

“But all the good ones go so fast.” Pearl argued. 

Violet ignored her, focus remaining on the dark purple dress hanging on the rack next to them.

“And,” Pearl continued, everyone knows Christmas basically starts as soon as Halloween is over, so you don’t need to feel bad about buying a Christmas sweater in November. Even Thanksgiving is over, now.”

Violet abandoned her inspection of the dress and turned abruptly to Pearl. “I don’t care what day of the year it is, I will not be seendead in a fucking ugly Christmas sweater.”

“Even if the theme of the office party this year is ‘Ugly Christmas Sweater Chic’?”

“How can an ugly Christmas sweater be ‘chic’?”

Pearl shrugged, idling up to Violet and pouting, cuddling into her shoulder. “I dunno.” She said, batting her lashes. “But if anyone can figure it out, it’s you.” She cocked her head to one side in an attempt to look cute.

Violet’s face softened and she brushed some blonde hair away from Pearl’s cheek. “You really want me to wear a Christmas sweater?” She asked with a tiny smile.

Pearl nodded, pout remaining.

Violet wrapped both arms around her and hugged her close in the middle of the store. “Pearlie…” She kissed her ear and dropped her voice to a whisper, “the day I put on a fucking Christmas sweater in public, is the day Michelle Visage wears a turtle neck.”

Pearl slowly pulled away from her. “You’re a party pooper, Chachki.”

“And I’ll look a million bucks doing it.”

  …….

  December 1st

Pearl burst in to the apartment, tripping over her own feet in her haste to get to the kitchen.

“Happy December!” 

Violet slowly turned from the stove, placing the spoon she was using to stir the pasta down onto the counter. “You told me that this morning, when we woke up.”

Pearl grinned. “I know, but-“

“And you told everyone in the office when we got to work.”

“Yes, I know, but this-,”

“And you screamed it at me as you left work and sprinted in the opposite direction to our home with zero explanation.”

“Right, yes, okay,” Pearl said, “sue me for being excited about Christmas.”

Violet rolled her eyes.

“But,” she said, holding up a bag, “I got us presents!”

Violet frowned. “It’s not Christmas, yet.”

“Early presents, then.” She said. “They’re to give us some holiday cheer. Get us in the spirit of the season.”

Pearl held out the bag and Violet eyed it suspiciously. “If you get anymore Christmas spirit in you, you’re going to start shitting glitter.”

“Just take the damn gift, Vi.”

For a mere half of a second, Violet thought she was about to be presented with some kind and thoughtful gift from her girlfriend of two years, although she berated herself for even entertaining that thought once she caught a glance of the bright and assaulting red and green inside the bag.

“Fuck you.” She said and dropped the bag on the kitchen floor. Violet stormed out of the room. “Cook your own fucking dinner.”

Pearl grabbed the bag and chased after her. “But I got us good ones!” She shouted.

Violet caught sight of the playful and amused grin on Pearls face before she slammed the bedroom door in it. 

“They were like forty dollars each.” Pearl told her through the door. “These are good ones.” She shook the bag. It jingled. “And they have bells on them!”

“I am not wearing a Fucking. Christmas. Sweater.”

Pearl looked down at the bag. “We’ll see.”

  ………..

  December 6th

“Just try it on.”

“No.”

“I think you’ll like it once you try it on, Vi.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please, Vi….for me.”

“No.”

“Ugh. Just hold it up against you. Look like this. Hold it up against you and you can see how cute the little pompoms look with the bells and the snowman-,”

“Get off me.”

“Violet, just-,”

“Now!”

“…Well, you don’t need to get so pissy about it. It’s just a sweater.”

  ………..

  December 12th

“I’m glad we decided to stay home for Christmas, this year.” Pearl mumbled sleepily into Violet’s hair. “S’too much effort to go see our families.”

Violet nodded, snuggling closer to Pearl on the couch. “We can go see them in the New Year. When everyone’s less stressed.”

“And when we can buy their gifts in the clearance section in January.”

Violet snorted. “You’re terrible. “

“Hey, my mom wants a new crockpot? Sure. But if I can get it fifteen dollars cheaper, then we’re both happy.”

They had been cuddled up on the living room couch since finishing dinner, channel hopping and chatting, making the most of their first free evening in over a week.  The holidays were a busy time for most; Violet and Pearl were no exception. 

The apartment was chilly, and Pearl had wrapped them both in a blanket from the bottom of their bed. It was actually warming up in the living room, or at least under the blanket, but Pearl didn’t have enough willpower in herself to pull away from Violet, not matter how sweaty her back was against the couch.

“You better not be buying my gift in clearance.” Violet muttered, eyes still on the screen. “I want my presents on Christmas day.”

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Pearl kissed her hair, “I’ve already got you covered.”

There was pause in the conversation as both women watched a celebrity chef attempt to convince the audience that the audacity on screen was worth buying their book for. 

“Pearl?” Violet asked as the show went to commercial.

“Mm?”

“Is my Christmas present that apocalypse of a holiday sweater?”

“…No?”

Violet curled herself into Pearl’s chest, closing her eyes and pulling up the blanket. “If you dare present me with that sweater as a gift on Christmas morning, I will not hesitate to divorce you.”

“But we’re not married.”

“Not yet.”

Pearl looked down at Violet curled up in her lap. “I’m not too sure what the threat was in there, but I can just sense it was there.”

Violet yawned. “Oh, believe me, it was there.”

  ……….

  December 20th– Party Day!

The weather outside was frightful, and a fire would have been so delightful for Pearl to come home to, but alas, the apartment only provided a shitty gas heating system that was more difficult to control than a starving pit-bull in a butcher shop. Pearl was cold. 

She shrugged off her winter coat, shaking the few snowflakes off that hadn’t had the time to melt into the fabric, and hung it over the seldom-used chair in the living room. Her boots left wet marks in a trail from the front door, and Pearl quickly kicked them off and pushed them onto their shoe rack. She mopped up the wet footprints with her socks as Violet stepped through the bedroom door.

“That seemed to take you fucking ages.” Violet said. She eyed the floor by Pearl’s feet a little suspiciously as she fastened her earring, but said no more.

“Sorry.” Pearl said. “Post office was insane. But I got my Mom’s fake gift posted, and got the gift she sent for me.” She held up the opened package she had run home with tucked under her coat. “I already told her it’s just a token gift though. I still have plans to buy that Crock Pot half off in two weeks.”

“Did you open your gift, already?”

Pearl nodded, grinning. “Not that she knows that.”

Violet laughed, crossing the room to inspect the parcel. “It’s not even Christmas, yet.”

“Yeah, but it’s Hanukkah.”

Violet frowned. “No, it isn’t.”

“Oh.”

“And you’re not Jewish.” She said, holding out her hand. “Like at all.”

Pearl handed her the small package and Violet took it, moving to sit on the couch. “Well, anyways, I opened it, and I love my Mom.” She grinned. “And she sent you some stuff too!”

Violet emptied the contents of the bubble wrap envelope onto the couch cushion next to her. There was a Christmas card addressed to the both of them, with half of the envelope ripped down the middle in pure Pearl fashion. Pearl’s Mom’s handwriting wished them both a ‘Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year’ and expressed her hope to see them both in the New Year. That made Violet’s tummy feel warm.

There was also a little golden envelope, also ripped to shreds, which contained a gift card for Brooklyn Fox, addressed to Pearl.

“It’s weird that your mom gives you money for sexy lingerie.” Violet said, holding up the envelope. “You know that, right?”

Pearl shrugged her shoulders, wrapping one arm around Violet as she sat next to her on the arm of the couch. “Mom just wants my boobs to be well supported.” She said. “S’not weird. She got you one, too.”

Violet flicked her eyes down to the othergolden envelope and quickly slit it open with her nail. Sure enough, she too, was a proud recipient of a Brooklyn Fox gift card from Pearl’s mom. “I think this makes it more weird.”

“Maybe she just wants us to get new swimsuits. Y’know, in case we wanna go visit her and go swimming?”

“But mine says ‘To Violet, have a lovely Christmas. Hope you and Pearl have fun with these gift cards.’”

“That’s not weird.”

“Then she drew a wink face emoji.”

“Okay,” Pearl frowned, “so Mom’s a little weird. Calm your tits.”

Violet snickered. “I actually fucking love your Mom.” She picked up the final two items on the couch and held them out in front of them both. “These are cute.”

They were two key chains, both with little dangling green beads and a single neon yellow alligator. A further charm hung from each, a flat piece of metal in the shape of Florida that featured the names ‘Pearl’ and ‘Violet’ stamped into them, respectively. Violet inspected hers with a small smile and eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

“This is cute.” She said, again, running a thumb over the alligator.

Pearl took hers. “Right? I love key chains!”

“When did your mom visit Florida?”

“She didn’t.”

Violet looked up at Pearl. “Where did she get these from, then?”

“Internet, probably.” Pearl smiled. 

“Then why choose Florida?”

“I dunno.” Pearl said. “She likes orange juice.”

Violet stared at her girlfriend for a few moments longer, if only to confirm the fact that she was not going to expand on her explanation that made entirely no sense. When Pearl only continued to happily fiddle with the little beaded charm, Violet picked up the bubble wrap envelope she had discarded earlier. A sliver of card caught her eye, still inside the package, the edge catching on the ripped corner of the envelope.

“What’s this?”

Pearl looked over. “Oh, Mom sent me an old photo she found.” She said, as Violet pulled out the picture. “She wrote something on the back about reminding her of the good times. It’s cute.”

The photograph was creased down the middle, but it didn’t take away from the pure joy radiating from the family smiling in the picture. Pearl’s mom looked almost the same as she did the last time Violet saw her in the summer, although her hair screamed late nineties. She wore blue eye shadow that clashed horrifically with the bright red and green knitted sweater she was sporting.

Pearl pointed to her mom. “You thought the sweaters I bought for us were bad?” She chuckled to herself. “At least I’m not asking you to wear that.”

The children in the image were also sporting matching horrific Christmas sweaters. Violet could almost feel her skin pricking with the feeling of itchy wool, in empathy with the smiling kiddies. Pearl’s brother, somewhere around ten in the photo, was holding up a shining soccer ball. The little girl, on their mother’s other side, held a half eaten cookie.

“Even as a child,” Pearl said, wistfully, “I knew, that food was life.” She laughed. “No but seriously, Mom told us to hold up are favourite gift, and I was like ‘oh, cookie, obviously’.”

Violet traced a finger over the tiny Pearl in the photo. “How old were you here?”

“Um, I don’t know. Like five or six? No more than six.”

“You were so cute.” 

“Were?”

Violet looked up to her and grinned. “Are.” She corrected, pouting until Pearl kissed her. “My Pearlie.” She looked back at the Pearl in the picture. “Is this photograph the reason you’re so obsessed with hideous holiday fashions?”

“Well,” Pearl smiled, “maybe a little, but it was something we always did. Y’know?” She wrapped an arm around Violet’s shoulders, looking down at the photo, too. “From my very first Christmas my grandma made us sweaters to wear on Christmas day, and it was so exciting to be allowed to open that one gift on Christmas Eve, and know it was gonna be the sweater but still being so excited about it.”

“I never knew that.”

Pearl shrugged. “I guess it never came up. We stopped doing it after she died, and then we moved out and went to college.” She explained. “It wasn’t until a few years later that I kinda felt nostalgic about it, and got myself a sweater. And I realised I missed it.” She grinned and squeezed Violet’s shoulder. “I like the whole fashion faux pas of the Christmas sweater. It’s like everyone’s in agreement that at this one time of year, we’re allowed to dress ugly.” She smirked at Violet. “Well, almost, everyone is in agreement.”

Violet frowned. “I just don’t get it.” She sighed. “In our house on Christmas we had to wear dresses, suits, have our hair perfect, be pristine. My dad would have thrown a fit if I had tried to get him to let me wear a sweater to Christmas dinner.”

“The benefits of being too poor to eat out were that I literally didn’t take off my pyjamas for like two whole days over Christmas when I was a kid.”

“That sounds like luxury, to be honest.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it was fun.” Pearl kissed her head. “You don’t have to wear the sweater, Vi. I want you to be comfortable in whatever you wear, but I can’t wait to wear my sweater at the party.” 

………….

December 20th, 6pm, Party Night

“Vi, the Uber’s gonna be here in like two minutes.” Pearl called from the living room couch. “Hurry that little perky ass up.”

“Coming.” Violet shouted back. “Just, give me a second.” She took a moment to stare at herself in their bedroom full-length mirror. “For Pearl.” Violet muttered, closing her eyes to gather some confidence. “You’re doing this for Pearlie, because you love her.”

“Come on, baby, car’s here.”

Violet shook herself, ran a hand through her long dark hair, and turned to grab her clutch from the bed. Before she could change her mind, Violet stepped out into the living room.

Pearl was buttoning up her coat, with Violet’s slung over her arm. She looked up, holding the coat out for Violet to step in to, when she caught sight of the outfit Violet had settled on for the evening. 

“Wow.” Pearl breathed. “I genuinely never thought I’d see the day.”

“Well, take it all in, because after tonight I swear to God, Pearl, I’m burning it.”

Pearl laughed. She walked over to Violet, holding open the faux fur coat for her. Violet put her arms in, and let Pearl wrap it around her body, bringing it closed over the bright red and green sweater. As her fingers brushed the front of it, the little bells jingled. Pearl was beaming.

“People would never believe it if I told them you’re a softie, Vi.”

Violet huffed. “And you wont go around telling people that.”

Pearl pulled her into a hug, holding Violet tightly and pressing a kiss into her hair. “I can’t believe that you love me enough to wear something so awful in front of all of our colleagues.”

“So you admit that the sweaters are gross?”

“Of course I do.”

Violet pulled away to glare at her. “Then why are we wearing them?”

“Because I’m nostalgic and you’re in love.”

“Fucking hell.”

“And just for the record, Vi,” Pearl said, “I love you, too.”

“Yeah, well,” Violet fastened the coat up higher, until no part of the sweater was showing, “you owe me a good fucking Christmas gift. A great fucking gift.” She led them out of the apartment, allowing Pearl to pull the door closed behind them.

“Can I interest you in a discount crock pot, that will be available for redemption sometimes in the New Year?”

“I will hurt you.”

[tigereyes45]

Some Moments

There are some moments, rare moments, where Arya will come to Gendry. Not to say she does not visit him at all. She does, quite a lot more then any royal should ever visit a blacksmith. However, the rare moments he speaks of are not the ones where she comes barreling in, demanding he set aside his work and train with her, or the nights where she insists she sleeps on a bed of hay next to him because her feather bed just doesn't feel right anymore. They aren't the nights where Arya comes to him asking for nothing more than to see and confirm his presence there, or the days she throws a hammer about for one reason or another.

No, his favorite moments were the rare ones when Arya would come to him, and say nothing at all as she embraces him. Her small arms would link together at the other side of his frame. Tightening her grip on him saying nothing at all.

The first time it happened he was scared. Twas the night before the first fight of the war between the others, and them. The first real stand of the humans against the others outside from the small skirmishes that occurred on their journey down. Gendry can still recall that night almost perfectly. He hadn't rested in days, working around the clock to make all the weapons the army would need. He even had help from a few northerners that knew their own way around the smithery.

Still, he was alone that night. The other hands have taken to sleeping upstairs or to go back to their tents within the yard. A few even found shelter within the castle to rest. Gendry hardly rested anymore by that point. That night he had stayed up until he could see dawn beginning to rise. Then he would rest for a couple hours at most and wake up when it was fully visible. Alone on a stack of hay, he was given. The straw was better than the dirt he had grown used to sleeping on.

It was still dark when she first came. A little thing filled with rage, and a new power she hadn't possessed before. The air was chilled with the approach of winter. It was already colder than his nights beyond the wall had felt. Gendry heard Jon tell warning that the closer their enemies get the colder the air will turn. Gendry spent his whole work that night wondering how far were the others, how much time did they have left?

Arya didn't make her presence known right away. Gendry found her standing in the middle of the entrance to Winterfell's forge as he turned around to set down another finished sword. His eyes froze as he saw the princess before him. Her pale skin, long dark hair, and leather and fur armor making her seem as if she was the embodiment of a winter's night itself. Gendry still swears he heard wolves calling that night. They were so loud he thought they could be calling all the way from the Riverlands, but no one else heard their calls that night. Only Gendry and the roaring flames behind him.

Arya wordlessly wanders into the forge, and before Gendry could think of a funny way of telling her she shouldn't be there, the warrior wrapped her hands around his lower waist. A sense of warmth he had been struggling to keep fills him then. Before he could stop himself, Gendry lets slip, "You're still so small Arry. Your head barely reaches my chest."

He expected her to punch him, or push him as soon as he had spoken. Instead, the young, wild wolf girl just squeezed him tighter, digging her sharp nails into his back. Gendry holds back any noise that she may have been hoping to cause by the pain.

They stood there for a while. Long enough for Gendry to watch the moon sink ever lower behind the castle's walls. Arya's grip gave no sign of loosening. Not that Gendry was complaining about it. If she was just a little taller he could kiss her forehead. That would get a reaction out of the little she-wolf.

Instead, Gendry bends down and lifts her up by her legs. The young lady squeezes her arms tighter around him before demanding, "What are you doing?" Her voice stern, an attempt to hide her surprise.

"Giving you a lift, milady," Gendry explains as he holds her legs at their bend, close to his chest. She lifts her arms up so she wasn't bent at such an awkward angle.

Gendry hides his smile by setting his head on top of hers. She still felt lighter than a child, even after years of them being separated, and all the training she claimed to have done. Or perhaps he had gotten stronger while she grew as well. The small wolf and her giant bull. Yes, he liked that thought. Arya begins to squirm a little as Gendry moves her back over to the haystacks. He could still hear the snoring of the men above. He carries her right past the hay that was meant to be his bed, and to the dark of the back of the forge. Gendry felt Arya relax as he moves aside a loose board from the back wall.

He knew it would be smarter to stay in the forge. It was warm after all, and he could still work as they sat together, but somehow it felt to crowded in the night. They all could die tomorrow, and tonight he knew exactly where to take her. There was no place in this castle Arya Stark did not know. She and her siblings made that know as they showed everyone escape routes one after the next in case the castle ever fell.

"Where are we going?" Arya asks as they travel through the snow.

Gendry shifts her weight so he could free one hand while still carrying her. He points to the weirwoods. Arya gives him a pensive look before her silver eyes reflect a glint of light from the moon above as they look back ahead.

Gendry had spent a few precious moments he had searching the castle that was Arya's childhood home. He had not yet made his way to the weirwood trees where the Starks had prayed to their old gods for generations. The smith had heard rumor of a warm pond among the ancient trees. It was supposed to always be heated and apparently never froze over even during the winter times. A perfect place to stay warm and share a few moments with his long-lost Stark. After only a minute Arya knew the boy was lost. Somehow she also knew his intent. Placing her hands against his chest, she frees herself with one great push.

Without a word, Arya grabbed Gendry's hand and led him through the old gods. Their faces of blood sent more than one shiver through his spine. As silent as a cat Arya weaves her way through the trees. Only stopping when they made it to the body of water that had been Gendry's original goal. Arya bent down and rested a hand onto of the water. Steam greeted her and curled around her hand.

"Legend is that their is a dragon that rests beneath the lake. That is why the water is always warm." Arya looked over at him and motions him closer. "One of Old Nan's stories." She said by way of explaining.

A few months ago he would have said that was impossible. Dragons were gone, but after seeing Daenerys' dragons. After riding one, he knew them to be very much alive now.

"Is it safe to swim?" Gendry asked only recieving a shrug back. Arya takes off her boots, and rolls up her pant legs before throwing them into the pond. Her legs up to the crook of her knee were in the water. Gendry sits a little closer to Arya then the pond but could still feel plenty of heat from it. Or perhaps it had been from how close Arya was back then.

Arya's silver eyes reflected the pond for a great amount of time that night. Neither of them knowing if that night would be their last. He had wanted to say something in that moment back then, but was too afraid of ruining it. He wanted to hear more of Old Nan's stories, and about her life as a child here, if these trees could actually see them with their heavy presence, or if she even still wanted him to be her family. After so many years away, he had realized the answer not long after their separation. He did.

Arya moved closer to Gendry, not bothering to take her legs out of the water. Silent, her eyes like steel, she leaned over to him and gave him a kiss. It was rough, and rush, and she had bit him a little then, but overall Gendry wouldn't complain. It answered a question he did not want to ask. Once Arya moved away she smirked, most likely because she could see his blush even in the pale moonlight. That was their last night of true peace before the biggest war anyone had ever seen started, and they spent it alone, in quiet, by a pond that spilled clouds of steam around them. It was the warmest Gendry had ever been since being in the north, and until the heat of battle was ending he had never been warmer after.

This is just a short self-indulgent piece. If you enjoy my work feel free to request and if you want to support me and my work please check out my ko-fi Ko-fi.com/tigereyes Page ID: L3L4CEAL