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mirkwoodshewolf · 6 years ago

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Soulmates through music; Brian May x reader

Okay everyone, now from the last Rock Angel part I know I had a lot of hearts broken and spirits crushed so along with the recent Freddie fic I just posted which I hope you all read and comment, I present to you my 2nd Brian May x reader fic. This time it has ALL THE FLUFFY FEELS that should hopefully mend the heartache that was “A family torn apart”.

Now one thing I should add is the fact I’ve put the reader as Tim’s sister, you know the first lead singer of Smile before he went to join Humpy Bong. The idea of putting the reader as Tim’s sister has crossed my mind more than once and I’ve yet to come across a fic with that description so I thought, what the hell I’ll give it a shot. And I may include a part 2&3 but that’s all I’ve had in mind for it, but first I’ll see how I am with time.

So warnings are FLUFF, FLUFF & yes MORE FLUFF, makeout sessions, Paul Prenter (yes he’s a warning as usual), bit of swearing but overall it’s as FLUFFY as you can imagine. OH ONE LAST THING AND THIS IS IMPORTANT SO LISTEN UP!!!!

I have linked a video towards the end for Brian May singing “Love of my Life.” Please please please please please PLEASE listen to that song cause it will help the story move along. I promise you. Okay hope you enjoy loveies :)

*PS AN 3-23-19*

For those who don’t know, I’ve made a little oneshot sequel to this story. Pt.3 is already done and complete, idk when I’ll do pt.2 so that way this short little mini-series can be marked as complete but for those interested until I get the time to do pt.2 have a read of this and I hope you all enjoy this next little continuation :)

Part 1.5 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Taglist Queen fics

@alexfayer

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*1970*

It was like any other Smile performance. Brian, Roger, Tim and I were playing at the pub, oh I’m getting a head of myself, the name is (y/n) Staffell, the keyboardist/pianist and sometimes tambourine player of Smile, but by day I do my mammalogy studies specifically in regard to carnivora species of the Eutheria subclass. In English that means I focus more on the studies of big cats, canines and bears.

And yes as you can tell by my last name, Tim is unfortunately my older brother. The relationship between us is…..well it’s strained at best but it’s not violent or toxic or anything like that but, we don’t get along half the time.

But he knew my potential of the piano ever since I was 3 years old I’ve been playing and I knew how to make a good rhythm or match harmony to melodies to some of the songs that Smile does. When Brian and Roger came on board in the band, the three of us became rather close, best friends you could say, hell maybe family.

Once Brian’s guitar solo came up and he had the chance to shine, Roger and I joined behind him and the three of us made a sound so magnificent and full of rock and roll, I felt like it would be deserving of the heavens. That is of course until Tim came back in singing and playing the bass guitar.

By the end of the show, our classmates and other young college kids applauded and my brother said into the mic.

“Thank you all. We are Smile. Goodnight everybody!” After the show I shook out my hands and flexed my fingers in and out and that’s when Roger asked me.

“You alright (y/n)?”

“Yeah just overdid it on that solo, always makes my wrists cramp up as well as my fingers. Thank god I didn’t miss a key though.”

“I thought you did amazing.” Said Brian. I turned to him and smiled softly and thanked him.

However as the night went on, things only got worse as my idiot brother told us of this opportunity with a new band.

“Humpy Bong?” Brian said.

“Humpy Bong. There’s going places, there’s gonna be big.”

“Humpy Bong. Are you joking?” snapped Roger.

“Don’t do it Tim.” Brian begged.

“I’m sorry guys but we’re not going anywhere with this. What college gigs? Pubs? I’ve gotta give it a go. Come on (y/n) let’s go.”

“I’m not going.” I stated firmly. Tim turned toward me holding his bass and he said.

“Don’t be an idiot (y/n). I already told them I knew of a great pianist who could put Beethoven and Mozart to shame. Don’t waste your talent by staying where you’re at.” I stared Tim down and said.

“Then find someone else with my skill set. If that’s at all possible of course. You may be a coward for ducking out but I’m not. I’m staying with Rog and Brian.” Tim rolled his eyes and muttered.

“Whatever, it’s your loss.” Then he walked away leaving Brian, Roger and myself along without a lead singer.

I just got back from the bar getting our drinks and I handed Roger his beer and I handed Brian his glass of water while I had me a beer as well. I sat between Roger and Brian in Rog’s van.

“You didn’t have to do that you know.” I heard Brian say.

“Do what?”

“Stay with us while your brother’s off to go big.”

“Brian, if my brother and I had to be stuck in one more band together, I’d soon rather gouge my eyes out and chop off every last one of my fingers and toes just so that I couldn’t play anymore. You guys may not know this but he’s also very critical when it comes to my playing. Claiming I’m not playing the right tempo or key. I’ll make it big with my boys at my side.”

“Aww you do care for us.” Roger teased as he ruffled my hair messing it up while I let out a whine before playfully shoving him away.

As the minutes ticked by, Roger piped in again.

“Besides I think he’s right. That show really was a load of bullocks.”

“Well there—there was room for improvement yeah.” Brian tried to reason with Roger. “Right (y/n)?”

“Uhh…..”

“See even she agrees with me. I’ve got better things to do with my Saturday nights. I could give you their names.” Roger grinned smugly at the last statement as he put his cigarette to his lips and as Brian and I rolled our eyes, Roger exhaled the smoke grinning at us. It was then a boy walked right by us before stopping in front of us.

He had dark black hair, about the same length as Brian’s was, he wore a jean jacket, a stripped polo shirt and dark jeans. But what made him stand out was the fact that I could see that he had an overbite and the fact that he didn’t look British at all, it looked like he was either from the Middle East or India, I don’t know I’m always getting those places mixed up.

“En—enjoyed the show.” He said. He was kinda awkward and shy but at least he’s not like all the other boys who come up to us and then spot me and try to get a shag from me.

“Thanks man.” Said Brian.

“Thank you.” Both Roger and I said.

“I’ve been following you for a while actually. Smile. Makes sense for a dental student.” He said shyly gesturing to Roger before turning to Brian and continuing, “And you’re astrophysics, aren’t you?”

“Yeah” Brian answered wearily.

“Makes you the clever one.” The man answered. Seeming to boost Brian’s already big ego he turned to Roger and I and said.

“Yeah I suppose it does.”

“And you dear, you’re a biologist aren’t you. Specifically for mammals. Right?” he said pointing to me.

“Yeah though I really love the big cats and canines.”

“Thought so. Fierce, clever girls such as yourself always love those kinds of animals.” I then turned to Brian and said in the same tone he had spoken to Roger and me.

“Yeah I suppose we do.”

“I study design here.” He said.

“Wow, I can tell. I love your jacket, it really goes well with your shirt.” I said to him.

“Thank you darling. Also I—” he then pulled out some sheets of paper and said, “I write songs. Might be of interest to you. It’s just a bit of fun really.” He said putting his notes away embarrassingly since we didn’t immediately take them.

“I’m sorry but I’m afraid your five minutes too late.” I said solemnly.

“Our lead singer just quit.” Brian answered. The man’s eyes widened for a brief moment and he seemed to gain some confidence as he said proudly.

“Well then you’ll need someone new.”

“Any ideas?” asked Brian with a shrug. The man adjusted himself almost like he was about to strike a pose but chose against it as he said.

“What about me?”

“Uhhh…..not with those teeth mate.” Roger joked out. I slammed Roger over the head and I sneered at him.

“Don’t be a wanker Roger!” I faced the man to see him slightly heartbroken and as he turned away I was about to apologize on Roger’s behalf when something incredible happened. The man turned around and sung one of the verses for “Doin Alright”.

I know what I’m doin….

I’ve got a feeling

I should be doin alright!

Oh my…..My jaw dropped at hearing this guy’s voice. It was like hearing an angel sing from the heavens. The boys and I looked at each other before the 4 of us sung in unison.

Doin alright.

Our voices blending together in perfect harmony. By the end of the song Brian was laughing happily and I held my hand over my mouth trying to contain my squeals but I couldn’t help it, while Roger had the biggest smile across his face.

“I was born with 4 additional incisors. More space in my mouth means more range. I’ll consider your offer.” He told us before smugly walking away with his hands on his hips. I looked at both Brian and Roger and we silently agreed and it was then Brian called out to him.

“Uhh…Do you play bass?” He turned back toward us and stated proudly.

“Nope.”

About six months later after getting to know Freddie Bulsara, we started looking for a bass player as well as rehearsing before our next gig at the same pub. Finally after trying out a few bass players there came a bass player by the name of John Deacon and I could already tell that he was exactly what we needed.

Finally our next gig had arrived. As we all walked up on stage to our positions. Roger went up to his drum set, John grabbed his bass guitar, Brian had his red special that he and his dad had made together and as Freddie and I walked up Brian introduced the new faces of our band.

Of course one bastard just had to call out just after Freddie greeted the crowd asking where my brother was and who this Pakkie was that we got. I went up to Freddie holding my tambourine for the first bit and said to him.

“You ready Freddie?” He turned to me and said.

“Let’s do it.” It was then Brian played the first note for mine and Brian’s song that we both wrote together “Keep Yourself alive”. I slammed my tambourine at my hip, Roger kept the tempo with his drums while Freddie was struggling to get the microphone stan out of its place. Which made that god awful feedback screech and I was looking at him oddly as well as the rest of the boys wondering just what the hell he was doing. It wasn’t until he managed to break the microphone stand off nearly almost decapitating John’s head off and he then began to sing.

And when he performed, it was like he had no boundaries of what it was that he was doing. He owned the stage like it was his and made every audience member feel important.

The only downside was that he was singing the wrong lyrics and improvising what Brian and I had. Every now and then Brian and I would pipe in telling Freddie he was singing the wrong lyric but of course when Freddie sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping.

As time passed, our band changed from Smile to Queen all because of Freddie and because of him we got the chance to record our first ever album and we soon got discovered by John Reid from EMI records and he wanted to meet with us and possible manage us.

We got on Top the Pops, did an American tour and were now going to record our next rising album.

*Rockfield farm, 1975*

After getting the approval from Ray Foster, we were sent off to a recording studio known as Rockfield farm, and I’ll definitely say it definitely suited the name. This recording studio was all the way out of civilization’s reach and it all looked more like a farm than a recording studio with the wooden built houses.

We were lead inside by Paul Prenter who was basically our “watcher” keeping an eye on us from day to day. Let’s just say I already do not like this guy, he gives me such eerie vibes it’s not even funny. Plus he seems to always want to be around Freddie like a little lost puppy.

“Right I know it’s not the Ritz. Not even close. Roger, you’re in here.” He said as we all followed him up the stairs of the house we would be staying in for the next several weeks if not months.

“Right.” Roger said as he went into his room.

“Freddie this is you. Biggest room.” Kiss ass. “Brian, that’s you.” As John and I trailed up behind Paul stopped us and said, “John you’re in the living room. And (y/n) you’re downstairs.”

“No! Absolutely not! She can stay in my room. I’ll take downstairs.” Roger said. I looked at Roger in shock. Never have I heard him wanting to pass off a good room for what could be a cold, small basement.

“Roger don’t get all…..”

“My bedroom is big enough for two. I wouldn’t mind sharing.” Brian’s voice rang up. He turned towards me and said, “Of course if that’s alright with you (y/n). I don’t mean to speak up for you but I just thought……”

“It’s fine Brian. So long as you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“It’s nothing (y/n), come on in.”

“Right then, that means John you take (y/n)’s room.” Paul walked down the stairs and I looked at Deacy apologetically.

“I’m sorry Deacy.”

“It’s fine (y/n). I wouldn’t feel right if you had been booted to the basement. It makes sleeping on a couch sound like heaven. I’ll be fine love.” I smiled at him and he took his suitcase and walked back down the stairs.

“Here let me help you carry that.” Brian said as he grabbed my suitcase leaving me with my overnight bag. I walked into his room and it was quite a big sized room, the bed however I can’t really speak for it.

“And you’re sure we both can fit on this bed?” I asked skeptically.

“I think so, we just have to make the adjustments and then….” But as Brian got on the bed, it turned out to be so springy and rickety, it bounded him back up in his seat. He tested the bed out before tilting his head to the side raising his eyebrows.

“Seems the adjusting is going to be bigger than we thought.” I soon got on the bed sitting behind Brian to his left side and it reminded me of a bed back at my nan’s house. As a kid I always loved jumping up and down on that bed, of course nan never allowed it and I was always caught and punished for bouncing on it.

As the day went on and after getting settled in, we all immediately went to work. Using the barn and the scenery as a perfect place of inspiration and the quietness of all distraction minus the chickens going around and the cows mooing in the distance.

Of course Roger couldn’t help himself as he would try to bother the roosters which in turn made one of them chase him which had all of us dying of laughter. We got some recording done just to test out how the sound system sounded and what instruments each of us would play based on the specific song of the songwriter.

Finally it was about 2am when we finally decided to call it a day and get some rest. We all retreated to our room and got changed for the night. Since there was a small jointed bathroom in mine and Brian’s room, he changed in there while I had the bedroom to myself to get changed. Once we were changed, Brian and I began to think of the bed situation.

As we both got into it, it turns out that there was still some space left for the two of us in the middle but only about a full hand length space. I slept on the right side of the bed closest to the door while Brian slept on the left near the window.

“Great work today by the way (y/n).” Brian said.

“Thanks, you too Bri. Goodnight.” I said to him with a soft smile. As I got tucked into the sheets I heard him mutter goodnight back and soon I fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke to the rooster’s crow at the butt crack of dawn and as the sun was starting to lightly come in through the curtains of the window, I let a groan and yawned softly. I almost didn’t want to get up so I nuzzled myself further into my pillow.

Boy my pillow’s a bit sturdier than I remember it being last night, wait hold on a second. Why is my pillow moving up and down? And what is wrapped around my waist? My eyes shot opened and my face turned bleet red as I finally realized what was going on.

I had somehow ended up intertwined with Brian. His arms wrapped securely around my waist, my head buried in his button up white night shirt that had the first three buttons unbuttoned which revealed his chest and somehow one of my hands had tucked itself underneath it and I could feel his chest hair along my palm, I could also feel our legs entangled with each other.

I guess—no I would be lying if I didn’t say that ever since forming Smile that I’ve had a slight crush on Brian Harold May. Okay I’m lying again.

I’m crazy in love with the man.

From the first day my brother Tim introduced us together, I thought he was the cutest boy I have ever seen. His short hair at the time, his blue eyes, and his stupid but beautiful face that looked like he had come out of a Michelangelo sculpture.

I must’ve suddenly panicked or something because next thing I knew I was down on the floor hitting my head onto the hard floor.

“(Y/n) are you okay!?” I heard Brian say above me.

“Yeah, yeah I guess I had a nightmare and fell out of bed.” I tried to cover up my embarrassing fall with the famed ‘fall out of bed because of a nightmare’ trick. It worked all the time with Tim, why shouldn’t it work now?

Brian soon was kneeling down in front of me cupping my face checking me for any injuries.

“You sure? What was your dream about?” Ahh bullocks. What do I say to him? Come on (y/n) say something! Anything!

“I was falling off a chocolate volcano.” Really that’s the best you can come up with? Bri looked at me skeptically before laughing softly and shaking his head.

“I’ve told you many times before (y/n), too much sugar will give you nightmares.”

“And I’ve told you Bri, that I never listen to reason, especially from astrophysics majors.” I teased him. He playfully glared at me and I grinned back at him as he went back to checking over me.

I flinched as he touched the back of my head and he apologized and said.

“Well good news you don’t have a concussion.”

“Joyous occasion.” I said sarcastically.

“Let me go down and get you some ice to bring down the swelling.”

“Brian there’s no need……”

“Please (y/n), just so that I feel better.” He cupped my gingerly in his hand. I felt my face got slightly hot as the tingles shot up my spine from his gentle touch.

“Okay.” I breathed out. He smiled softly and got up from the floor and left the room and I let out a deep, heavy sigh that I had no idea I was holding in. “God why must love be so damn confusing and hard?!” I groaned. He soon came back with a small bag of ice as well as a kitchen towel, he had the bag of ice wrapped in the towel and he gently placed it right over the bump on my head.

“How’s that feel?”

“Good. Really, really good. Thanks Bri.”

“Anytime.” He said with a soft smile.

Later on that day I was walking outside along the barn humming to myself hoping to find some rhythm to get down on the piano so that I could make a song. That’s when I heard the sound of Brian’s red special guitar playing in the recording studio.

I followed the sound of the hypnotic guitar and I finally realized that the song that Brian was playing was Elvis Presley’s “Heartbreak hotel”. I quietly entered the studio and there I saw on the other side of the glass window, Brian with a set of headphones and I could hear him singing the song.

*Brian*

Well since my baby left me

I found a new place to dwell

It’s down at the end of lonely street

At Heartbreak Hotel, and I said

I’ve always loved hearing Brian’s voice. He just had this harmonious, angelic soft voice that he barely gave himself credit for. While I did appreciate Freddie’s vocal range and thought he was a great front man for Queen, I just wish there would be a chance for Brian to stand out, hopefully in this album A Night at the Opera he would let Brian have a song to sing.

I’m feelin so lonely baby

I’m feelin so lonely

I’m feeling so—

I then hit the button that would allow Brian to hear me as I sung to him.

*Me*

Lonely, I could die

It startled him as he looked up and stared at me.

“I thought you were supposed to be working on your own music?” He asked me.

“I could ask the same for you Mr. May.” I teased as I pressed the button again speaking into the microphone. “But you know me, I’ve always been an Elvis fan so the second I heard that opening note of my favorite song of the King, I just had to come and see what was going on.” He smiled at me and I smiled back. “So besides trying to be like the King of Rock himself, what have you come up with for the new album?”

“Come on in and have a listen, I need your opinion on this. And you’re the only one who speaks the truth without any sarcastic response.” He said as he set down his red special. I stood up and opened the door and soon entered the recording room.

Brian now held a 12-stringed acoustic guitar as well as a sack of papers and was sitting by the piano.

“Now I haven’t quite figured out most of the lyrics, this is just the chorus but I think it could be a hit. Or not.”

“Well let’s hear it.” He then began humming the tune as he started to play the acoustic. I’ve always admired the way his fingers would just wrap around the neck of the guitar with such elegance and poise as he would play. He’s always had guitar playing hands, as well as piano hands when need be.

Don't you hear my call though you're many years away

Don't you hear me calling you

Write your letters in the sand

For the day I take your hand

In the land that our grandchildren knew

I was in awe at the song already and I knew already that it would be a great song, but also it would tug at the heartstrings.

“Still a work in progress, but then again it could be rubbish.” He said.

“No, no! I love it. It’s just missing something….hold on.” I stood up from the piano bench and looked through the instruments hoping to find what I needed. Finally after doing some literal digging I managed to find a Marx tambourine. “Okay start the chorus up again but don’t start singing just yet, let me get the beat of it.”

Brian then began to play around with the chorus part and I tried to come up with a good rhythm beat and soon I just did a basic clap, hitting my lower palm to the head of the tambourine letting the cymbals jingle. As Brian and I kept the tempo he then began to sing the chorus again but this time I joined alongside him.

Even after hearing the song only once, I found myself knowing the words.

And our voices blending together in a beautiful harmony, his angelic tenor voice and my mezzo soprano voice made shivers run up my spine and goosebumps pop up along my arms.

When we finished the chorus, our eyes were locked onto each other’s and that’s when Roger’s voice piped in.

“How long are you two gonna deny it? Grow a pair and kiss each other will yah! God the sexual tension between you both is disgusting!” We looked up and there standing at the door were Roger, Deacy and Freddie. Brian and I turned away from each other blushing.

But I kept thinking to myself, did he feel the same way about me like Roger was suggesting? Or is he just pulling my leg like he usually does.

“That was beautiful Brian dear, what do you call that song?” asked Freddie.

“I—haven’t really gotten a name for it yet. It’s still a work in progress.”

“Well I love it, especially when you two sing it together. But if you don’t mind I need to steal (y/n) away and teach her the piano for the song I have in mind for the album that will change the way music can be created.” I turned to Brian and he gestured for me to go on.

I set the tambourine down and walked towards Freddie and he wrapped an arm around me and led me out of the recording studio and back up towards one of the other houses where they would have some of the pianos.

I was sitting next to Freddie observing his piano skills as he played his song which he’s decided to call “Bohemian Rhapsody.” He would cross his hands over one another for a 2 quick note playing before uncrossing them and returning to playing.

I’ll admit he’s quite the pianist. Sometimes I even wonder why I’m still even hear, if he can play even better than me. Hell back when we were first meeting with John Reid, Paul tried to convince Mr. Reid that the band could possible be better with just the four of them but the boys had my back and told Mr. Reid that either I stay with the band or there’s no deal.

He agreed to keep me in the band and ignore Paul’s ‘opinion’ especially after I had written the hit melody for Killer Queen while Freddie wrote the lyrics.

“Okay (y/n) now let me see you try it.”

“You sure I can do this Fred?” I asked him.

“I have complete confidence in you. I’ll watch every second and show you what to play in case you miss any notes.” I then began playing the piano now and I seemed to get it, except for when it came to the hand cross over. I would either miss the keys on the cross over or mess up the rhythm when it came back to uncrossing my hands. I was starting to get frustrated and I said.

“This isn’t working. How in the bloody hell do you do the hand cross over?”

“It just takes practice darling, here let me show you how it’s done.” He took my hands and placed them on the keys and said, “Okay start playing.” I then began playing the song and just before it came to the key change, he ordered me to stop.

It was then he took hold of my left wrist, crossed it over and said to me.

“Now with just your index and tallest finger, play the two keynotes.” I did as he asked and he immediately went back to position one. “The best way to remember where to come back to position one is to measure your shoulder length. Make sure both arms are at shoulder length and go back to playing. Now try it on your own. You’ve got this dear. Again.”

I sighed deeply and played from the top and miraculously I nailed it right then and there as Freddie sang the first few verses of his song. At the last verse he had before a guitar solo that Brian would do, he sang with such raw passion and I followed with the piano with just as much passion before gracefully banging on the keys as he soon held out the last note and I was soon out of breath just from playing and I knew right then and there.

This would bring Queen to the top.

Freddie turned to me and he said with a grin.

“That was beautiful darling, just like you. And once Brian hears you play, he’ll fall in love with you for sure.”

“Thank you for the first note Fred, the second note I’ll have to disagree with you on that. We’re just friends.”

“Come on darling you’ve told me once before about your little crush, why are you denying it now?”

“Because—because what if he doesn’t feel the same? Or even worse what if we did work out but then hard such a fight that I would put the band at risk? I—I can’t do that to the rest of you guys.”

“Oh (y/n)~” Freddie hugged me from behind and he said. “As a mammal biologist I thought you would’ve known that when Emperor penguins find a mate, they do it through song. You and Brian….you’re voices are made for each other. Your love songs intertwine with each other so well, you wouldn’t be risking anything. The only thing you are risking is the chance at happiness you and him can have together.” I pondered on the thought and I asked him.

“You really think that’s what I’m doing?”

“I know so. Denial doesn’t suit you dearie. Promise me you’ll tell him your feelings, for all our sakes.” I sighed deeply and said to him.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Do it before the end of our recording or else I’ll tell him myself.” He pecked my temple platonically before racing out of the room.

“What? FREDDIE!!” I raced after him yelling his name, knowing that he would go about doing that and I had to do whatever it took to stop him.

As the weeks went on, A Night at the Opera was slowly coming along. Most of the songs had been recorded, even Brian’s song that I had helped him with which he had decided to call ’39. Now our main focus was Freddie’s piece “Bohemian Rhapsody”.

And let me tell you already, that was the song that was taking the longest to record due to Freddie’s perfectionist vision for this song. He had us do multiple takes of each part from either voice recording, guitar playing, piano, bass, drums anything until it was up to par for his vision of the song.

Right now Brian was doing his guitar solo that he himself had actually written for the song. He ran it by Freddie and he allowed Brian to show what he had in mind. Brian was now behind the booth playing his solo right after my piano playing and Freddie’s second verse.

Seeing Brian in his element, playing his red special and playing what he wrote, it made me just fall deeper in love with him. I bobbed my head along to the solo with my eyes closed and just let his beautiful guitar take me away to paradise.

By the end of the solo, Deacy stopped the track and Brian asked.

“What next?”

“That was pretty damn good. Brilliant. I love that.” Freddie said but he forgot to hit the button on the microphone so Brian couldn’t hear him.

“Press the button Freddie” Brian said into his guitar mic. Our music supervisor Roy who actually helped us record our first album told Freddie what to press while Freddie bragged on saying that he knew where it was before pressing the button and teased out.

“Knock, knock.”

“Good” Brian said.

“It’s good umm…you know play it like you wrote it.” Freddie said.

“Well I did I wrote that part.” Brian said.

“Taking the piss.” Brian mocked out a laugh and said.

“Okay, are you happy?”

“I think it’s beautiful, just like our lovely (y/n). It’s almost perfect.”

“Almost?” questioned Brian.

“Yes give it more rock n roll.”

“Well I’m always up for that Fred.”

“Put your body into it.”

“Yeah okay, put my body into it. I’ve got it.” Brian said as he did a cute little wiggle of his hips as he raised a quick cup of water to drink.

“Not like that!”

“No I’ve got it, I’ve got it. Bit more soul, bit more soul.”

“Alright. Bit more heart.” Freddie answered at the same time Brian was talking.

“I’ll do that, are we good to go Roy?” Roy raised a hand up for the all clear and that’s when Freddie said.

“Oh then there’s the operatic section.” There was silence as he clapped his hands once and continued, “You’re gonna love it.”

“The operatic section?” questioned Brian.

“I know. It sounds crazy. I don’t know it could be a flop, it could work.”

“I love it Fred. I love it.” Brian said over Freddie’s word as he spoke into his guitar mic for the emphasize on him voting for the operatic section. Freddie softly chuckled and said.

“What have we got to lose?”

“Nothing.” Laughed Brian.

“If you say so.”

“Okay let’s go.”

“Deacy.” Freddie said as he turned towards Deacy who played the tape back before the guitar solo and Brian gave the solo more soul and this time I felt shivers go up my spine.

Days passed as we kept the recording up, and just like Fred said we were now doing the operatic section of the song. It was tedious and strainful especially for me since I couldn’t do as high as a normal soprano so that’s why for all the higher notes we left that to Roger.

Currently he was recording the Galileo parts. At the Figaro line, the recording stopped and Roger asked us.

“How was that?” I turned to Freddie and asked.

“Fred?” He turned towards me and said.

“Higher.” Roy rewind the tape and I said into the microphone.

“Can you go a bit higher?”

“If I go any higher only dogs will hear me.”

“Try.” Freddie answered.

“Freddie’s note sorry.” Said Deacy as he pressed down onto the mic.

“Go on roll the tape.” Roger sighed.

“Overdub 24 of Fred’s….thing.” Roy said as Roger’s Galileo verse came in. He did go higher than what he did previous doing overdramatic arm waves. At the end he asked.

“How was that? Better?”

“Higher.” Freddie answered bluntly. Brian poked his pen in the air signaling to Roger to go higher.

“Jesus how many more Galileo’s do you want?” Roger demanded as he removed the headphone off his head and placed them around his neck.

“Freddie wants to do a few more overdubs.” I answered him.

“Do we even have any more tape left?”

“I do have to say the tape is wearing out. It can’t take much more.” Deacy said.

“Yeah we can’t afford much more what are we? Three weeks overscheduled?” Brian answered. In the end it took about another hour maybe even 2 of Roger repeating the same four words till it fit Freddie’s vision until he finally said.

“My nuts feel like they’re in my chest right now. Are we done?”

“That’s it honey. He loves you.” I answered him with a grin.

The recording continued and this time we were making better progress as Freddie thought that the first shot at recording the next few lines were what he imagined.

Now all five of us were surrounding one microphone, I was standing between Roger and Brian as we all took each of our operatic sections for the Bismillah and the let me/him go lines. Finally at the last note we all had to hold out, at the rock n roll solo, we all couldn’t help ourselves as we bounced up and down knocking over the flats behind us.

Freddie and Deacy ended up falling to the ground, Roger nearly tripped over as did I but Brian quickly caught me before I fell over. And the way he was holding me, it was like he was dipping me. Our noses almost touching each other’s as we once again were staring deeply into each other’s eyes.

Both Brian and I stood back to normal as we both chuckled nervously rubbing the back of our heads.

“Sorry bout that.” I said.

“What—what have you to be sorry for?”

“For always having to save me from nearly getting myself killed. That is after all the second time I’ve fallen near you.”

“I don’t mind saving you though.” He muttered shyly. I turned to him and shyly smiled and that’s when Freddie said.

“Oh (y/n) darling, isn’t it about time you told something to Brian?” I glared at him and Brian looked to me and I said to him.

“It’s nothing Fred’s just pulling your leg. Much like Roger was several weeks ago. Now then, whose hungry cause I’m cooking tonight.”

Later that night after a successful recording and dinner, I was in mine and Brian’s room reading one of my favorite books when Brian knocked at the door and I looked up and said.

“Oh hey Bri, what’s going on?”

“Nothing much umm….do you have something warm to wear?”

“I—think so let me check.” I asked him why as I went over to the wardrobe and tried to find a jumper or something to wear.

“I want to show you something before we leave back for London.” He answered. I soon managed to find me my favorite shawl and I took it out and placed it over my shoulders and Brian escorted me out of the home and out into the field.

As we walked up a hill, I soon took notice of a few lanterns that had been laid out lit up so that we could find our way as well as a blanket with a couple of thermoses probably filled with tea or coffee.

“Brian…..did you do all this?”

“Yeah, hope I didn’t go too big I just thought we’d be a little more comfortable on the blanket rather than the grass. And I thought you’d might want some coffee to help keep warm.”

“No it’s lovely. Thank you.” We then sat down on top of the blanket and I took one of the thermoses and opened it up and took a sip of the coffee inside. It was nice and warm, just what this cool night needed. “So what is it that you needed me out here for?”

“For this.” He answered as he turned the lights from the lanterns off and he scooted over close to me.

At this point my heart was racing and I thought I was going to be ravished by Brian right here right now. “Lay back and close your eyes.” Oh my god he is going to ravish me.

“Wh-what?”

“Do you trust me?” he asked. Even through the darkness of the night, with the only light being from the full moon I could still see Brian’s eyes showing no ill intentions whatsoever. I nodded and so I did as he asked and closed my eyes and slowly lay back.

I felt Brian take hold of my biceps as he helped me lie back, I soon felt the blanket against me as I felt Brian wrap my own shawl around my tighter. I then felt him lie next to me as he said.

“Okay, open your eyes.” And when I did, I was greeted by millions and millions of stars. I let out a gasp.

In all my life, I have never seen these many stars up close. Ever since I was little, my family and I used to always go up to my nan’s country home in South London but when she passed away the home had to be sold and we couldn’t go there anymore. So the last time I had ever seen this many stars’ was when I was around 10 years old.

Now I have told this story to Brian, even with our playful arguments about whether space or animal studies were more interesting to study.

“Oh Brian it—”

“Shh. Just observe. There you can see Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, and of course Orion one of my personal favorite constellations.” He began to give me a little lecture on the constellations. Hearing him talk with such passion when it came to anything regarding of space made my heart flutter.

I kept my eyes on him as he continued talking about the stars and the cosmos but then he turned towards me. Our eyes locked with each other and I felt this spark go up my arm as I said to him.

“Did you know that—when emperor penguins find a mate, they sing to each other?”

“Really?” He breathed out.

“Yeah, they—find each other’s love song and if the song matches with the other’s then they’re…..mated for—” As I spoke Brian’s face moved closer towards me before finally his lips were pressed against mine.

It was shy at first but soon it became deeper and more passionate as Brian cupped the side of my face and I gripped onto his shirt with both my hands. When we separated, our breaths mixed together and I said to him.

“I love you Brian. I always have but I—I was just too shy to admit it and I didn’t want to risk our friendship or ruin the success of the band and—” I was stopped by another kiss from Brian, this time softer and more gentler but it still made my toes curl and shivers run up my spine.

“You ramble too much.” I couldn’t help the laugh that came out of me and he chuckled as well. “(Y/n) darling you don’t need to be afraid anymore. Because I’ve loved you from the day I first met you. When I first saw you I—I thought I was looking at a star straight from the cosmos.” I smiled at him and said to him.

“You are so cheesy.”

“That’s why I wrote that line in ‘Sweet Lady’ for you my bright star.”

“Well if I’m your bright star, then you are my emperor penguin.” He smiled lovingly and leaned forward and we spent the rest of the night making out and lying underneath the stars.

The next morning the guys were starting to pack up and Deacy came up the stairs as he grumbled out.

“Well I’m ready to get the hell out of here and back into my own bed. I swear that bed in the basement would be better fit for a child.” It was then he took notice of Brian and I on the couch. His arm wrapped around me and my head resting on his shoulder. “Wait are you—you two are….”

“Yes.” I giggled while nodding frantically.

“Oh that’s great! I’m happy for you both, and about bloody time too. That means I win the bet.”

“Bet? What bet?” asked Brian.

“The lads and I have been polling on whether or not you two would get together. I said you’d be together before the end of this recording. Freddie betted by the end of it, while Roger said not in this lifetime.” Brian and I were flabbergasted by the news.

“Roger Meddows Taylor! Get your arse down here right now!!!” I cried out. Roger soon came walking down the stairs and he said.

“Jesus woman what’s got your knickers in a twist?” I smiled snidely and walked up to him before gripping his ear tightly like how I sometimes do when he gets a little too flirty with the girls back during our smile days and I said to him.

“Did you and the rest of the boys have a bet in regard to Brian and I?”

“Jesus Christ (y/n) you know I hate it when you pull on the ear. Ow! Okay yes so what of it!” He yelped as I tugged on his ear. Hard.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Well what else were we supposed to do. As I’ve said you two have been pining over each other since I joined Smile.”

“Well jokes on you Rog.” Stated Brian. I released his ear and he muttered in pain as he rubbed his ear while I walked towards Brian and he stood up and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“You now owe Deacy…..how much did you guys bet?”

“100 quid.” Answered Deacy.

“Are you joking?!” snapped Roger.

“Nope.” the three of us answered. Roger grumbled and paid Deacy the 100 quid then he finally turned to us and he said.

“But I am happy that you both are together. Truly. Just don’t let me catch you snogging or shagging each other.”

“Why? This means it’ll be payback for all the times you’ve been with your girls, don’t you think so my big penguin?” I said as I looked up to Brian.

“Yes I suppose it does, my little penguin.” He cooed as he kissed my forehead which immediately grossed both Deacy and Roger as the two of them headed out with their bags. We both couldn’t contain our snickers and quiet laughter then I said.

“Come on, we’ve got to go pack now otherwise they’ll leave without us.”

“Why not let them? Then we’d finally have this quiet little house all to ourselves. Making beautiful music together, if you catch my drift?” he winked cheekily at me and I smacked his arm and said.

“You dirty rotter!”

“You know you love me.” He whispered seductively in my ear as he tried to seduce me with soft kisses around my upper neck and words of love.

“I’m not sure if I do after that.” I turned around and cupped his face in my hands and seductively kissed his lips. He moaned into the kiss as his arms left my waist as his hands were now cupping my face. Once I had him right where I wanted him, I raced up the stairs toward our room, and it only took a split second for Brian to call out.

“You cheeky little minx!” He chased after me up the stairs and into our room. My laughter echoing through the entire hallway of the house.

*1976. Sydney, Australia*

It was now the start of our next world tour. Ever since the explosion of Bohemian Rhapsody with the public, everyone around the world knew the name Queen. After getting out of Foster’s grip when he had rejected our song and I bet right now he’s kicking himself in the balls for letting go of the biggest rock group ever rising.

As for me and Brian, well……

I was sleeping on the bed when I felt a mess of curls nuzzle into my neck and I felt soft kisses trail up and down my neck. I stirred and turned around to see him holding me close around my waist as I felt him continue his trail of kisses.

“Good morning my love.” he said as he looked up at me.

“Morning.” I moaned out tiredly as I stretched myself out. I then turned to look at Brian and I said to him, “Why did we wait so long for this to happen? We could’ve been doing this for years by now.”

“Because for scientists we are both completely incompetent. But it doesn’t matter, we’re together now though. And that’s all that matters to me.” He said as he lightly pecked my temple before taking my right hand and slowly clasping my hand with his. He lifted our entwined hands to his lips and kissed each of my knuckles delicately. My heart was all a flutter and the butterflies (no moths would be a better term), the moths in my stomach were fluttering like hell.

Once he was done delicately kissing my knuckles, he soon came on top of me and I now lay on my back staring up at the man I’ve loved for so long. I lifted my right hand to stroke and playfully swat with my index finger his luscious curls.

“I can’t believe I get to wake up to you every morning.” I said.

“Believe me love if anyone’s lucky here, it’s me. I get to wake up to the most beautiful girl in the galaxy.” I scoffed at his cheesy astrophysics pickup lines but I kept a loving gaze up at him. He leaned down and softly captured my lips with his and just as he was about to deepen the kiss, a knock was suddenly heard at the door and Roger’s voice said.

“Oi you two get up! We’ve got to get to the concert hall and rehearse! You both can shag after the show!” we both glared at each other and I said.

“How much would it take to replace Roger?”

“Not a whole lot I’d wager.” Brian stated.

That night another concert began and everyone from Australia sang along to all our new songs. Now came that time of the show for Freddie and Brian to do “Love of my Love” with Brian at the 12-stringed acoustic guitar.

As usual Brian warmed up with some chords of the song and just before Freddie was about to sing he suddenly made an announcement.

“You know this time around, we’re gonna mix things up a little bit. Can we have the lovely (Y/n) Staffell at center stage please?” My eyes widened and I turned to Deacy and Rog who only gestured me to go down.

I walked off the drum risers and a spotlight followed me as the crowd cheered.

“Ahh there you are my dear, now can we please get a seat for her?” Soon a stage handler came out with a four-legged stool much like Brian’s just a bit smaller. “Thank you dear,” Freddie said to the handler, “Alright (y/n) you sit here,” Freddie helped me into the seat and I asked him.

“Fred what’s going on? We didn’t rehearse this.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen this time around I’d like to introduce Brian May for the lead vocals of Love of my life, and he’d like to dedicate this song to our lovely keyboardist and pianist (Y/n) Staffell.” The audience applauded loudly and I turned to Brian who only smiled at me lovingly before beginning to play the song.

After the introduction was done, Brian’s soulful voice went into the microphone as he began to sing while staring right at me, the crowd sung along. As usual when this song was played, we had the audience sing to us loud and proud and I actually turned towards the audience hearing them sing.

Play video

*Brian*

Love of my life, you've hurt me You've broken my heart

And now you leave me *Crowd*

Love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back Don't take it away from me,

Because you don't know What it means to me

Tears filled my eyes as I turned back towards Brian. The crowd applauded at the end which gave Brian the time to lean towards me and whisper in my ear.

“I love you.” He then kissed my cheek which elected into more cheers from the audience before he started up the next verse of the song. This time he and the audience shared the song in a perfect blend.

*Brian*

Love of my life, don't leave me You've stolen my love, you now desert me *Brian & crowd*

Love of my life, (can't you see?) Bring it back, bring it back

*Crowd*

Don't take it away from me Because you don't know What it means to me

*Brian and crowd*

You will remember When this is blown over Everything's all by the way When I grow older I will be there at your side to remind you How I still love you

*Crowd*

I still love you

As he held the note along with the crowd, they cheered but Brian suddenly stopped playing. I looked at him confused, that was until he took the guitar off his shoulder and Freddie suddenly came in and took it as Brian now got down on one knee.

I could hear shocked screaming from some of the audience members, but of course I was just dead frozen right there in my seat. My heart stopped and I swore I thought I was going to pass out. Freddie handed Brian a microphone and Brian said.

“(Y/n). I have known you all my life. You’ve been there with me since the beginning and you never once left my side. No matter how crazy things got whether our fights were about music, or whether biology or astrophysics was the better science field of study.” I choked out a laugh as the crowd merrily laughed. “You’ve been my best friend, my harmony to my melody, the love of my life. You once told me back on Rockfield farm over a year ago that emperor penguins found their soulmates through song. And now, I want to ask you through this song,”

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet black box. The crowd went absolutely nuts as I held my hands over my mouth as I was physically sobbing hysterically.

He opened it and inside it revealed a beautiful diamond engagement ring. It was a nice size rock, not too bit but not to small. He always knew I never liked big flashy diamonds. It was on a golden band with two smaller diamond embedded right underneath the main rock.

“Will you, (Y/n) Staffell become Mrs. (Y/n) May?” The crowd screamed at me to say yes and all I could do was sob. Too emotional to even say it, I nodded frantically and soon the audience was in an uproar.

Brian smiled at me before taking the ring out and placing it on my wedding finger. Once it was on, I fell off the stool and embraced Brian as I buried myself into his neck and wept. When we separated, he cupped my face and kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose before finally capturing my lips with his.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as we kissed each other passionately and the audience just kept cheering and awing at us. Once air became a dire need, we were forced to separate and I took notice of the mic. I took hold of Brian’s wrist and held it up and as best I could Brian and I sung the last couple lines together.

Our foreheads touching each other’s as we stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

*Me and Brian*

Love of my life Love of my life Ooh, eh

I wept once more and Brian brought me close to him kissing my head as the audience cheered loudly.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of Sydney please give it up one more time for Mr. and Mrs. May!” Freddie’s voice said into his microphone. The crowd cheered once more but my focus never left Brian’s as he kept my face cupped in his hands and we kissed one more time.

After the concert, Brian and I were in our shared hotel room once again having a private celebration of our engagement. I lay there in my bed, the sheets covering my body while Brian stood by the table in just his boxers pouring the champagne into two glasses for us.

“I still can’t believe one day I’m going to call myself Mrs. (Y/n) May.” I said.

“Well it’s best you believe it darling. I’m hoping we can have the wedding immediately once the tour’s done. That is if it’s not too soon for you.” He said the last part concerned.

Well we’ve got about 2 months left of the tour and after that god knows where Queen’s gonna go after that. Might as well get it over with in case we have to keep postponing it.

“I don’t mind. I’m not looking at a big wedding anyways. Just a few friends, family and as long as I’m wearing a white dress and you’re all dapper up in a tux. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Then we’ll tell the guys in the morning. For now,” he was now lying in front of me facing me on his side as he handed me my champagne glass. “To us Future Mrs. May.”

“To us, Dr. May.” I said as we both clanged our glasses together not once breaking eye contact as we doused down our champagne like a shot of whiskey. We set out glasses aside and Brian leaned forward and captured my lips with his.

Soon the rest of the night was spent making love to each other, feeling each other’s body and praising one another with words of love. Of course that morning we got some complaints from Roger since he was technically our next door neighbor but both Brian and I knew that he was happy for us.

#bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rhapsody x reader #brian may #brian may x reader #gwilym lee #gwilym lee!brian may #gwylim lee!brian may imagine #gwylim lee imagine #gwilym lee!brian may x reader #brian may x reader fluff #queen #queen imagine #queen imagines

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rochnariel · 5 years ago

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D&D Campaign Looking For Players

Hi all,

I am looking to start a new d&d campaign starting in January (because everyone’s schedules getting crazy during the holidays). Looking for 3-5 players (I already have @eledhiel13) in a homebrew universe.

Campaign

It’s a homebrew universe starting with level 1 characters that will likely go through 20.

The basis is a society in which magic is strictly regulated and controlled. Unauthorized use is punishable by death. And it is used so little that the people living in smaller towns and villages generally doesn’t believe it exists.

There are multiple gods in the world, but people (generally) only know of one, as that is the only approved worship in the world. The church and the state are highly intertwined with tax dollars going to the church and the church assisting the government in law making, etc.

This doesn’t mean that players can’t play magic users or can’t worship other deities. Just that you have to be very careful how you do it. We would have to work together creating the backstories for anyone playing clerics, warlocks, sorcerers, or wizards.

The plan is a long overarching story line with a balance of combat, investigation, and role play taking into account player backgrounds and story lines and working through those along the way.

I can answer more questions and give more information if you interested.

Actual Game Play Nuts and Bolts

5e rules with one exception. Any resurrection beyond Revivify is going to be subject to a d20 roll with a DC. I believe strongly that death should not always be an easily remedied solution and should have an effect. It shouldn’t just work out that you can always come back so long as your party has money.

I’m open to Unearthed Arcana and some homebrew classes, subclasses, and races. We would just need to talk about it to make sure nothing gets stupidly overpowered.

Online play using Discord and (likely) Roll20 for maps. I’m a person that needs a visual for combat. I haven’t had much experience with Roll20, but it seems like the best option out there for that.

Games will hopefully be weekly and likely on a Saturday or Sunday in EST. I work EMS so I typically have to work Saturday or Sunday and my schedule changes on a 4 month basis (Another reason for starting in January). I’m open to weeknight games depending on everyone’s schedule, but I figured most people have the most free time on the weekend

About Me

I am a 32 year old. I am non-binary (she/her or they/them, either works for me) panromantic asexual. I work EMS. And this will be the first time that I am DM’ing a long term campaign.

I’m actually pretty new to D&D having just discovered it recently. I have always loved storytelling and acting, so this was a perfect fit. I have DM’d a handful of one-shots and part of Waterdeep Dragon Heist (which we still need to finish) and enjoy DM’ing more than I do playing (not that playing isn’t awesome as well).

Want to play?

Message me with your interest and we’ll go from there. We have a discord set up to talk about times and backgrounds and everything.

I would like to trial run a oneshot or two online to make sure that I have everything figured out with the mechanics of it, so they would be good trial runs of my DMing style and make sure that everything is a good fit.

#d&d #d&d campaign #looking for player

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uas-fics · 6 years ago

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Part 2 of The Goth and The Vampire, a fic inspired by @bybasily ‘s stutters piece

Part 1 .

~~~

He didn’t get used to it.

Five months had passed, and being fed on was just as gross and uncomfortable as ever.

Raven rested his lower back against the top of the concrete barrier. The far end of the baseball field, behind the dugout, was a lonely place, tucked near the tree line, which made it perfect for smoking and the feeding in peace.

With one hand clamped against his shoulder, Butters gripped tighter to Raven’s front, his fingers balling around the fabric of his shirt. A rumbling came from his throat.

Rolling his eyes, Raven held his cigarette between his teeth, then reached up and flicked Butters in the nose.

“Stop it.” Raven snapped without looking back.

Butters took his teeth from Raven's neck, then rocked back on his toes until his back rested against the chain link fence.

He pouted while wiping the stray blood drops from his chin.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.” Butters ran his hand down from Raven’s shoulder to his mid-back. He let it rest there a moment before pulling it between his knees with his other hand.

“You can help moaning when you’re literally drinking my blood.” Raven took a drag, then purposely blew the smoke at Butters’ face.

He hated when Butters did that. It made his entire circulatory system ache every time. It also didn't help that it was just plain weird. Raven wasn't a particularly tasty slice of cake. There was no need to moan.

No matter how much Butters claimed to the contrary.

“But you taste real good, Raven!” Butters chirped, waving the smoke away. He rocked forward to wrap his arms back around his middle, but Raven took a step out of his reach.

Pulling from his pocket a large bandaid, Raven doctored up the bite mark. Butters looked away from Raven over his shoulder, lip out in a childish pout, at the trees. Usually Raven gave Butters twenty minutes to drink as much as he needed to get by. After breaking the no moaning rule this time, he’d only had eight.

It would be enough until Saturday. In the months since this all started, Raven had figured out how much Butters had to take to get by. He had it down to a science at this point. The full twenty minutes was just Raven being nice and letting Butters take a break every few minutes to jabber on about whatever was on his mind.

Raven pressed the bandaid to the bite with a wince before beginning to readjust his shirt. He’d have to wear his jacket zipped all the way up again. How many times had he told Butters to bite lower down on his shoulder? It might have been farther from the artery in his throat, but it was so much easier to hide.

“I’m only good because I’m all you have,” Raven muttered.

Butters hummed to himself. “Nah, that ain't it. You just taste good, better than some of the other people I’ve had.”

“You’ve had, like, two other people, one of which was Eric Cartman. It’s not much competition.” Raven stole a step back to slide down the side of the concrete barrier to the ground.

Apparently, when Butters was first turned, he tried to ignore his hunger, but it grew too strong for him and started to cloud his mind. Seeing Cartman through an unlocked window, he acted out of instinct instead of thought.

Somehow Cartman being one of Butters ‘victims’ seemed fitting to Raven. Cartman had always been pushing Butters around, bullying and tricking him. Raven figured sooner or later Butters would snap and somehow get revenge on his bully. Honestly, Raven wasn't sure how Butters hadn't gone out of his way to get back at all the people who were mean to him in elementary school. He had the power to do it, but his good heart must have held him back.

Butters stuck out his tongue. “Eric tasted like lard — lard, rot, whip cream, and cheesy poofs. It was icky.”

“What about your ex-friend?” Raven took a drag. “How’d he taste?”

He hadn’t gotten Butters to spill whom the friend he had a falling out with was. He had, however, narrowed it down to either being Kyle Broflovski or Kenny McCormick. They were both old friends with Butters and, as far as Raven could remember, good enough people who would be willing to help Butters out — for a preppy know it all and a dirty pervert, anyway.

“Oh, he was interesting.” Butters looked up at the dreary sky. “Tasted like cherry, not real cherry, though, the fake kind they put in Poptarts, and something else. The something else was good, really good, but icky at the same time. Like...” He screwed up his face in thought, "grill steak and burnt bread.”

Raven tried to imagine that taste, but couldn’t get all the flavors to cross. He nearly asked what he tasted like, but the school bell cut him off before he could open his mouth.

Butters jumped to his feet. “Math class time!” He said in a sing-song voice.

Raven rolled his eyes. Butters, the vampire dork, who lived for math class that was his friend. Butters was an A-plus student in hall his math courses, though.

Raven heard somewhere that vampires had a tendency to count out everything. In days long past, that was how scared villagers would keep vampires in their graves: filling the grave up with tiny seeds that the vampires would have to count before they could leave. He’d wondered if Butters’ vampiric nature made his mind better at math or if he was already good at it before. Maybe it was both.

“I’ll consider heading to class when my eyes aren’t freakish,” Raven made a point to jab a finger towards his eyeballs. A side effect of being a vampire’s blood bag, his irises were tinged red for at least fifteen minutes after every feeding.

As Goth as it looked, it was a pain in the ass to explain away. Besides, if he had to deal with those emo brats gawking over his eyes being so ‘edgy’ and ‘cool’, he was going to vomit. At least being a Vamp Kid, Butters could pretend his weird red eyes were fancy contact lenses or something.

Butters smiled apologetically then leaped off the barrier. He landed on his toes with more grace than a normal human could ever muster. Butters took two steps, then stopped, spun back around and retraced his steps.

After digging in his pockets, he crouched down. “I only gotta ten today.” He slipped the bill into Raven’s hand. His fingers were warm, almost unnaturally so, against his palm.

Raven shrugged, then slipped his cigarette behind his ear. After running his tongue across his lips, he set a hand on Butters cheek, then leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips.

This part of their private time started as a joke. A month in, Raven commented he should start charging for his services. A moment after he had said that, Butters asked him how much would he charge for something like a kiss or a hug.

Thinking Butters was playing along, Raven jokingly replied, “Five for a hug, ten for a kiss, twenty-five for frenching, fifty for a handjob, and for a hundred, I’m yours for the night.”

He’d never expected Butters to take him seriously, but the very next Wednesday, Butters showed up with fifteen dollars that he blushingly pushed into Raven’s hands for one kiss on the cheek and a bear hug

Sometimes, Raven worried Butters would actually show up with twenty-five or more, but that had ever been the case. The closest he came was showing up with two tens to get four hugs. Raven wasn’t sure if his restraint came from respect or the fact he always spent his allowance the moment he got it. Either way, Raven was almost guaranteed at least five dollars four times a week just for showing Butters a little physical affection.

Butters giggled, his face pleasantly flushed. “Thank you for that!”

Raven grunted. “Whatever. Head to class. Can’t be a cog of society’s death machine if you can’t do arithmetic.”

Butters bobbed his head. “Right!” He exclaimed, a little too happily, as he jumped back to his feet.

“See you at the graveyard on Saturday,” Raven raised his cigarette towards him.

Butters paused a moment then offered, “If you want, we can have a sleepover at my house on Saturday. We could stay up all night playing games and then you could sleep in on Sunday, instead of going to church.”

“I’ll think about it,” Raven stated as if he hadn’t replied that exact same way every Friday when Butters asked him. Butters beamed then finally spun around to head back to class.

Raven ground his cigarette against the earth before reaching to pull another out of his pack.

In truth, Raven was not completely against the idea of a sleepover, but at the same time, the thought made his stomach churn.

He didn’t want to risk putting a name to their relationship.

Raven wasn't sure where he and Butters stood at this point. It wasn't that they weren't friends. On the contrary, Raven didn't think it was possible to have another man's lips on your neck willingly every other day for five months without some positive emotions turning up.

He just wasn't sure if his affections went as far as “crush” or “romantic love”, but they definitely were growing less and less platonic with every passing day. Sometimes, Raven wondered if they were platonic at all anymore.

At first, he chalked the positive emotions up to pity. He felt bad that someone who, really, wasn't all that terrible, was stuck spending his time with those douchebags, pseudo prep, Gothic subclass losers.

Since Raven started paying attention to Butters, he'd noticed that Butters just barely sat on the fringe of the Vamp Kids anyway. He rarely talked to them, and they rarely talked to him.

To Raven, it seemed that Butters just hung around with them so he wouldn't have to be physically alone.

But as time passed, Raven found his pity answer having less and less truth in it. He really did just enjoy Butters company, just like he had all those years ago. Even dyed in all black, Butters was a breath of fresh air from the heavy mausoleum air that hung around himself and the other Goths.

He put his cigarette to his mouth and inhaled.

If only he could piece together how Butters felt about the situation.

To Butters, were the butterfly kisses and hugs just a fill-in to actual romantic love? Was that why he never brought enough cash to go any farther? Was he too scared to risk his secret by getting close to anyone else? Was he using Raven as a stand-in for the girlfriend he wished he had?

No, Raven refused to spend an entire night alone with Butters. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he found out he was just a substitute for something Butters couldn’t have.

~~~~

His mom's car wasn't in the driveway, but his dad's car was.

Raven cringed. Instead of walking into the house, he made his way to the garage.

The kittens had long since been adopted out to good homes, so there was no greetings of mewls this time. As Raven sat down on a box, he couldn't help but smile to himself.

Butters wanted to “apologize” to the kittens for murdering their mother, so every night for a week straight he came in and left them little gifts of food in an attempt to gain their forgiveness.

It never worked. The kittens still hissed at and hid from him when he came by every time until they were adopted out.

It was almost as funny to watch as the time when Pete and Henrietta attempted to paint the kittens' claws black.

Raven dropped his bag beside him then began to tap against his phone. At least one of his friends had to answer. If he had an excuse, he could just pop into the house, dump his shit, then head out — the less time with his dad, the better.

He already knew Henrietta was a no-go. Her little brother was coming from out of town to visit, and she had to stay home. Firkle was probably still sick with whatever flu or cold was going around the elementary, so he didn't bother texting him either. That left Pete and Michael. He texted Michael first since Michael lived closer.

A few moments later, he answered, “sorry. babysitting. kill me now.”

Raven replied with a frowning face and four pistol emoji. He sent Pete a text next, asking what his plans for the night were. Pete’s trailer might be farther away, but Raven wasn’t above walking there in the cold.

He pressed himself against the corner made by the wall and a shelf, waiting for Pete to reply back when the door to the house opened.

His dad peeked in, looking around until his eyes landed on Raven. Raven tried to stand so he could make a quick escape, but his dad was faster this time and made it over to him first, leaving Raven boxed in.

“Hey, son, how’s it hanging?” His dad asked in that tone he used when he wanted to talk about something uncomfortable.

“Just waiting for death, like always,” Raven muttered deadpan, praying Pete would text back soon.

“Oh.” His dad took a breath, then let it out in a low whistle. “You know, Raven, I think we need to have a talk.”

Raven flinched back. “About what?”

His dad looked everywhere else but him as he said, “You know, stuff.”

Raven wanted to die. He didn’t want to talk about ‘stuff’; he wanted to be left alone. His dad had his opportunity to make a deep bond with Raven years ago, and he squandered it with snide remarks about adding color to Raven’s outfit and wishing his Goth ‘phase’ would hurry up and go away so he could 'have his son back’.

His dad heaved a sigh. “Look, Raven, I just want to make sure you're being safe, ok?”

“Safe? Safe with what?” Raven set his jaw. Did he mean his knife? Or how he walked home in the dark? His dad never cared before, not until his mom flipped out on him about it after the night with the cat, anyway. Was that why he was doing this? Had his mom made him? Seemed a little late to be trying to be a good parent.

“Safe with, uh, well, you know, safe.” His dad scratched the back of his neck.

“If you’re not going to be clear about it, then just go.” Raven looked pointedly down at his phone, trying to urge Pete’s text to come.

His dad groaned. “Here.” He reached into his pocket and held out a thin, foil square.

Raven's eyes grew wide at the offered condom.

“I’ve seen the hickeys on your neck, son. I just want to make sure you and your little girlfriend aren’t doing anything that you two might regret.”

Raven’s mouth gaped open, his face going completely red. “I, I don’t — it’s not like that!” He pulled up his jacket collar until it touched his chin. “I don’t have a girlfriend, Dad.”

Realization flashed across his dad’s face. “Oooooh.” He nodded. “Well, if you and your boyfriend are doing stuff, you still need to be safe. STDs don't discriminate, Raven.”

Raven sputtered, but couldn’t for the life of him make a coherent sentence.

With a soft smile, his dad crouched down beside him then slung his arm over his shoulder.

“You know, it’s ok if you’re gay, son,” He promised. “I love you, either way. I just want you to be happy, and if being with a boy makes you happy, then I’m all for it.”

For the first time in a long time, something warm towards his dad welled up in Raven’s chest. When was the last time his dad had been this supportive of anything in Raven's life?

He might not have been completely right about it, as Raven still liked more than just boys, but it was a step in the right direction.

“I’d rather you be decked out in rainbows than all black, anyway.”

And then he took forty steps back.

With a cry of frustration, Raven shouldered his dad’s arm off him and stomped to his feet.

“Why do you always have to make it about you!?” Raven screamed. He stormed past him out of the garage.

“Stan, get back here!” His dad shouted after him.

Raven spun around and yelled back, “It’s Raven, you selfish fuck!” Without another word, Raven turned on his heels and ran.

~~~~~

It was dark, the wind was freezing, his phone was dead, and his eyes stung from crying.

What a way to spend a Friday night.

Raven pulled his knees to his chest then leaned against the plastic half sphere. He looked the eight feet down to the softwood chips that covered the ground around the playsets.

Another sob tried to force itself out of his throat, and he swallowed it down.

He could use a cup of coffee right now. That Tweak place was near the playground, wasn’t it?

He considered heading there but decided against it. He wanted to be warm but refused to go into such an ungoth place.

Or, that's what he tried to convince himself.

In truth, he just didn't want to risk running into anyone who knew him there. The Tweak's son was in his class, and all Tweek's friends hung around there on Fridays. The last thing he needed was a bunch of people hovering around him asking why he was upset.

No, he’d rather just suffer in the cold. Maybe he’d freeze overnight.

He curled into a tighter ball, burying his face in his arms.

Why couldn’t his dad just understand this was who he was? He didn’t want to play sports anymore or be the homecoming king. He was happy as a Goth, as paradoxical as that seemed.

His mom understood. His sister understood. Why can’t his dad?

A biting wind cut through his jacket. A few snowflakes slapped against his red cheeks.

Raven shuddered. He really was going to freeze if he stayed out here. Standing up, Raven looked towards the rest of the town. Henrietta’s place was closest, but the lights were all out at her house. She was still out with her family.

He turned, straining fruitlessly to try and see through the trees towards Michael's.

Even if Michael was home, Raven didn’t want to deal with Michael's siblings gawking over him and trying to rope him into playing with them. Firkle was sick, and Pete lived across town.

Setting his lips into a line, he let his eyes move to another house, just a few down from his own.

He took a breath and began to crawl off the playset.

~~~~~

Raven rubbed his arms as he stood in front of Butters’ front door. The snow started to fall down in thick heavy sheets on the walk over. The covering of white made it easy to sneak past his house but at the cost of freezing his extremities.

He reached up and knocked. It only took a few moments before the door opened.

“Raven?” Butters’ face burst out into a wide smile. “Well, howdy! What brings you here?”

“Sleepover.” Raven shivered. “Can I come in? It’s cold.”

“Oh, yeah! Come in! Get warmed up! I’ll get you some cocoa.” Butters ushered Raven inside. His hand lingered a moment too long on his arm before he pulled it away.

Butters rushed towards the kitchen, leaving Raven standing awkwardly in his living room.

Butters’ mother sat on the couch, an infomercial playing as she fiddled on her phone. His father was seated at the table reading over a newspaper. Raven didn't remember much of Butters' parents from when they were eight, though some far off recollection he couldn't fully grasp left a sour taste in his mouth. They weren't the nicest, he remember that much, at least.

When neither of them looked up or greeted Raven, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd taken. Something about them seemed off, but Raven couldn’t put his finger on how. Thought if it meant he didn't need to talk to them he was fine with letting the oddness slide. He would rather spend that time trying to blood flow back to his fingers anyway.

Just as the feeling returned to Raven's digits, Butters came back with a steaming mug in his hand. He pressed it into Raven’s grasp.

“Follow me,” He waved him towards the stairs. Halfway up, Butters leaned over the railing to call, “Raven is staying for a while. Maybe the whole night. We’ll be good though, so don’t worry.”

For the first time, Butters parents turned and looked at Raven. There was a subtle red haze around their eyes. Raven wasn't sure if they were really seeing him though or just acknowledging what their son had told them.

“Oh, welcome, Raven,” Mr. Stotch greeted. He sounded like prerecorded message. “You two have fun.”

Butters agreed, “We will, Dad.” He looked to Raven to ask, “Are you hungry? Mom can bring us some snacks if we ask.”

Raven nearly declined, but he hadn’t eaten since lunch hours ago. Instead, he just nodded. Butters then turned and called to his mother to bring something up for them to eat a little later. She said she would, then Butters led Raven up the stairs to his room.

He spun around as Raven entered.

“Well, what do you think of my ‘crypt’?” His eyes searched his face for positive affirmation of his decor choices.

Raven looked around. It was just a normal room, a bed, a dresser, a desk, a shelf, posters on the walls, and toys scattered about. Nothing really stood out as abnormal. save for some rubber bats hanging from the fishing wire by the windows, anyway. Sometimes Raven forgot Butters was suppose to be a dorky Vamp Kid until little bits of their subculture poked through like this.

Instead of commenting on the extreme dorkness of the bats, Raven walked around, pausing to look at all the knick-knacks and pictures on the shelf. When he passed the dresser, he stopped to peer into the cage settled there. Attached with clothespins, a note card with glitter and stickers on it labeled the creatures within as 'Evil Minion 1’ and 'Evil Minion 2’ and 'Miss Alice Cullen.’

A small brown and white hamster poked its head out from under a fake log. It eyed Raven for a moment then crawled back under after deeming him uninteresting. The other hamsters didn't even bother to come out from hiding to examine him.

“You can take a seat on the bed if you want, or the desk chair,” Butters offered when Raven stepped away from the cage.

Raven took a seat on the bed, sipping his cocoa. It was watery but hot, so he didn’t complain.

“Thanks, Butters.” Raven leaned scooted until his back rested against the wall. His arm brushed against the thick blackout curtains that covered the window. Butters claimed that, while direct sunlight didn’t hurt him, it made him itchy and tired.

“So, whatcha doing out in weather like this?” Butters hopped down on the bed. “The weather report said it was gonna be a snowstorm.”

Raven stared down into his drink a moment before muttering, “Got into a fight with my dad. I don’t want to head home, and didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Butters made a small sound of surprise before scooching to Raven’s side. He set a hand on his knee and offered a small, reassuring smile. Raven eyed his face a beat, then smiled back.

They stayed in silence. Raven greatly appreciated this. If it had been the other Goths, they would be biting at the bit to hear what happened, then proceed to bash his dad and his actions.

Any other time, Raven would be fine with that and feel validated, but not tonight. Tonight he just wanted to sit and warm up in the quiet of his thoughts.

The silence was broken sometime later when someone knocked on the door.

Mrs. Stotch peeked in.

“I made you boys some popcorn.” She pushed open the door. In her hands was a bowl of hot, buttery popcorn. Mrs. Stotch set the bowl on Butters’ desk then asked, “Do you want anything else? Have you have dinner yet, Raven?”

Her voice sounded a little too automated for Raven to reply with more than a shake of the head.

“I’ll cook you up something,” She said, then left.

As Butters went to retrieve the popcorn, Raven asked, “Ok, what is, like, up with your parents?”

Butters shrugged. “They’re being good parents. Caring, loving, respecting.” He turned back and his good eye flashed red. “Like I told them to be.”

He set the bowl in Raven’s lap before taking his seat again. Raven took a hand full and greedily shoved it into his mouth. He really had been hungry. No amount of angst and anger could cover that.

Around the popcorn, he said, “Oh, right. That persuade thing. I forget you can do that. You never do it around me, and you seem a little too nice to make someone do something they wouldn't want to anyway."

Butters pulled his legs up to cross them. He looked to the left like he was embarrassed. “Yeah, I don't like to use it. It's tiring and makes me feel kind of like a mean old bully if I use it on nice people. That's why Mom and Dad are the only ones I use that power on.” He smiled solemnly down at his hands. “It took becoming an unholy, blood-drinking monster to finally get my parents to respect me and treat me right. Kind of ironic, huh?”

There was a touch of sorrow in his laughter. Raven didn’t point it out. Of course Butters wouldn't use his power on normal, good people. His heart was too kind for that.

That sour taste filled his mouth again. A few more memories of Butters parents yelling and scolding their son in front of everyone rose up from the depths of Raven's mind, Butters wouldn't use his power on good people, but his parents weren't good people. They never had been.

“You’re not a monster, Butters,” Raven told him after swallowing down the taste. “You’re just different.”

Butters’ cheeks went pink, and he looked away. “Ah, shucks, Raven. It’s ok. I know I’m a monster. I accepted that a long time ago. Besides,” he grinned, “if I wasn’t, I wouldn't have become best friends with you again.”

Raven’s heart skipped a beat, and he suddenly remembered why he’d never taken Butters up on any of his sleepover offers.

Butters’ brow knit together.

“Raven, you ok? Your heart is beating like crazy. Is it because I called us ‘best friends’? I'm sorry if I offended you about it, but you are. You're my very favorite person.” He beamed at Raven and made Raven's heart beat even faster.

Raven felt his throat clench as he looked at Butters' soft, round face smiling right at him. Any solely platonic feelings he held evaporated away with the heat of his blush.

Butters, the kind, sweet, chatty ray of sunlight, thought Raven was his best friend, his very favorite person.

Did that mean Butters liked him back then? Could this be the foundation of something so much more?

Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, Raven made a snap decision.

“Do you have a quarter?” He blurted out. His volume took them both by surprise.

“Um, yes? I think so.” Butters rolled over to his bedside table and began to search the drawers. As he did, Raven swallowed down the rest of his cocoa then set the cup and bowl of popcorn carefully on the window sill.

The snow came down just as thickly as before, maybe even more so. It covered the road to the point it was impossible to tell where the sidewalk ended and the street began.

“Got one!” Butters announced as he held up the coin. Raven held his hand flat to take the quarter. Butters dropped it in his hand.

“Alright, just for tonight, I’m giving you a deal,” Raven said as he closed his fist around the coin. “Ninety-percent off the original price.”

Butters cocked his head to the side. Raven watched him do the calculations in his head for a few heartbeats before Raven’s offer clicked. His eyes grew wide.

“Raven, you...” His voice puttered out. He took a shaking breath, looking away, “Ha-ha, um, not to be rude, but a quarter wouldn't be ninety-nine off of fifteen.”

"It's not off of fifteen. It's off twenty-five."

Butters mouth opened into a large o-shape before he laughed again. "I don't think that's quite right either, math-mathemat...tical...ly...errr." His knuckles bumped against each other in front of him. He didn't turn his gaze up at Raven. He didn't look upset, only flustered.

“Either way, that’s my offer. Take it or leave it.” Raven pocketed his payment. He didn’t plan on giving it back, no matter what he chose.

“Take it! I take it!” Butters lunged forward, planting his hands on either side of Raven. Their faces were inches apart. From the end of his nose to the tips of his ears, every part of Butters' face was red. Raven's face wasn't much better.

As Butters moved in to press their lips together, Raven raised his hand and put it between them.

“I have one question.” He took a breath. “No matter what you say, we can still make out or whatever, I don’t care, but I have to know.”

“What is it?” Butters asked, falling to his knees.

“Do you like me? Like, not as a friend. Is that why you keep paying me for hugs and kisses? Or is it because I’m your only option?” He braced himself for the impending disappointment.

Butters’ lips twitched up before he snickered into his hand. “Well, of course, I like you more than a friend! I wouldn't pay for kisses if I didn’t. I just wasn't sure if you liked me back, you know? I mean, golly, Raven, you’re really handsome and down to earth, and you're the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, even to a nasty, old, cat killer like me. What isn’t there to like?”

A weight Raven hadn’t realized he was carrying fell from his shoulders. He lowered his hand a few inches, before slipping it around Butters’ head and pulling him close.

The kiss was different from every other they shared. This wasn’t a peck on the lips where they both held back their feelings. This had emotion behind their lips and Raven loved it. Butters lips were warm and soft and he never pushed himself too hard onto Raven. In fact, it was Raven who kept pulling him closer.

He found himself almost wanting to risk blacking out from loss of oxygen rather than end their deep, if somewhat clumsy, kissing.

Finally, he pushed Butters back by the shoulder, panting. In the end, his lungs won and he had to breathe again.

Butters seemed unaffected by the lack of air. His eyes sparkled and a goofy grin spread across his face. He wiped the saliva off his chin as Raven reached up to do the same to his own.

“Can we do that again? I have another quarter.” He started to twist around, but Raven shook his head.

“You don’t have to pay any more,” Raven told him.

“I don’t?” Butters practically shook with excitement. “That’s so great! So we can do that again, right? Can we kiss outside of my room? Like at school, or are we going to pretend we don’t know each other still?”

Raven thought on that a moment. A vamp kid like Butters and a hardcore Goth like Raven dating would cause a real stir amongst both their social circles. With any luck, he might be able to convince his friends that Butters was at least softcore Goth enough to be worthy of joining them.

As for what the vamp kids would say about it, well, Raven didn’t care. They can get along with drinking their Clamato juice and writing their Twilight fanfiction without Butters around.

“It’s whatever.” Raven raised a shoulder. “I don't care, and if I ask them, my friends — ” He winced, suddenly remembering his phone was dead. Now that he thought about it, his mom was probably worried too, and his dad was probably feeding her lies how Raven was overreacting and his dad wasn't being a complete ass.

“Butters, can I borrow a charger?” Raven pulled his phone out of his pocket. “My mom doesn’t know where I am. I don’t want her calling the police.”

Butters nodded, handing Raven his own phone, then took Raven’s from his hand. As Butters searched off the side of the bed for the charging cord, Raven dialed his mom’s number. It rang twice before she answered.

“Hey, Mom,” Raven said before she could speak.

“Raven! Oh, thank God, you’re ok!”

“Yeah, I’m at Butters’, um, the Stotch’s.” Raven crossed his legs. “It started snowing really hard, and Butters invited me in.” He caught Butters’ attention with a wave, making sure he knew the lie they were sticking to.

“So you’re alright? You’re not hurt?”

“No, Mom.” He took a breath. “Physically, I’m fine.”

From the other end of the line, Raven heard his mom shout the news. He heard his sister call him a ‘turd,’ but there was affection behind the muffled insult. He heard a few other voices he knew, like his Uncle Jimbo and Ned, but he didn't, however, hear his dad's through the din.

“Hey, is Dad there?” Raven asked.

“He is, in the living room, calling your friends. Do you want to talk to him?”

Raven wrinkled his nose up in disgust. “Hell no. I wanted to see if you could hold off telling him I’m safe. He deserves to feel horrible after all his bullshit.”

A heartbeat of silence then his mom questioned, “What did he do?”

Raven scoffed, “Same as always. He was a selfish prick.”

An exasperated sigh came through the phone. His mom knew how her husband acted all too well and didn’t need an elaboration more than that.

“I’ll talk to him,” She promised, though Raven knew nothing would change. “The storm is getting worse outside. Are the Stotches ok with you staying over tonight? Let me talk to an adult.”

Raven covered the phone with his hand. Butters simply nodded. He could hear the whole conversation as it happened. After shuffling off the bed, he darted to the door.

“Mooooooom,” He called, “can you come up here? Mrs. Marsh wants to talk to you on the phone.”

A few moments later, Mrs. Stotch stood in the door, Butters’ phone to her ear.

“Really, Sharon, it’s no trouble. No trouble at all,” She assured. “Raven can stay as long as he wants. I’m happy that Butters is spending time with a sweet boy like your son.”

“Ah, Mom,” Butters muttered, more to himself than to her. Raven wasn’t sure he would call ‘embarrassing your son’ good parenting. Maybe that was what Butters thought parenting entailed. Or maybe his powers didn’t go as far as Raven had thought.

Once their moms came to an agreement that Raven would stay until tomorrow when the storm was over, Mrs. Stotch passed the phone back to Raven. His own mom told him to behave, be safe, and that she loved him.

He told her he loved her too, refusing to meet Butters eyes as he did so, then hung up.

Mrs. Stotch clasped her hands in front of her. “I need to get back to the kitchen.” She began to leave, only to pause and look over her shoulder. The haze that hung in her eyes faded for just a moment, and in the most human, and authoritative, voice Raven had heard from her, she ordered, “You two keep your hands to yourselves, young men.”

With that, she left.

Butters actually looked surprised. “Huh.” He said. “She actually did some good parenting on her own. That’s unusual.” Butters pressed his side against Raven's, kissing under his ear. “Too bad I ain’t gonna listen.”

He paused, lips still pressed against Raven’s skin, before nervously asking, “If you’re alright with that.”

Raven turned his head then gave Butters a peck on the forehead. He wrapped an arm around his waist before resting his cheek against his hair.

Of course, this was all right with him. Might as well give his dad some real hickeys to flip shit over anyway.

~~~~

When Raven turned his phone back on a few hours later, he was bombarded with message after message, demanding to know where he was, if he was alive, and threatening him with violence if he was dead.

Ignoring the ones from his family, and flat out deleting those from his dad, Raven went to the Goth group chat.

“I’m alive. Fucking Dad was being an asshole and I left and my phone died. Sorry for worrying you.”

He didn’t think the last apology was all that Goth, but it seemed appropriate nonetheless.

Firkle was the first to reply.

“I’m getting you that replacement knife and stabbing you in the still beating heart.” His text held no emoji or indication he was joking. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t.

Michael and Henrietta’s messages came at the same time.

“what did ur dad do this time?” Asked Michael’s.

“Where are you now?” Was Henrietta’s.

Leaning against Butters, Raven replied, “He was a being a dick, as usual. And I’m at,” here, Raven paused in his typing to look at Butters. Butters was playing some point and click game with a cheerful anthropomorphic frog waving its arms in the corner. The game didn’t seem particularly hard, and Butters looked like he was enjoying himself.

“my boyfriend’s,” he finished, then sent the message.

That is what they were now. They both agreed on it a half hour ago. Raven Marsh and Butters Stotch were boyfriends. It still felt a little weird to wrap his head around, but he couldn't say he was displeased with this label on them.

At this point Pete joined the chat, being the first to see the message.

“Gross,” He sent, and Raven felt his heart sink until his second message came, “Who would want to date your sorry, flat ass? lmao”

Raven chuckled, earning a sideways look from Butters.

“Butters, you show up in selfies, right?” Raven asked.

Butters nodded, a little too enthusiastically. “Yup!”

“Good.” Raven slipped his arm around Butters’ shoulders then held the phone at an angle above them. Butters flashed a smile while Raven’s lips turned up just a fraction.

“Are you gonna put fun filters on it? I know a site you can put a sparkly filter that makes everyone look like an anime character,” Butters suggested brightly.

Raven sent the selfie. Never breaking eye contact with Butters as he did so. Sparkly filters weren’t Goth, and a sparkle filter on a Vamp Kid would be a little too on the nose.

Everyone’s reply to the selfie came all at once, talking over each other as much as they could in a text-based conversation.

“WTF”

“You have fucking weird tastes, Rav.”

“is that a VAMP kid?”

“is he paying you?”

“Dude of all the people”

“That’s my brother’s friend”

“Why a douchy vampire wannabe?”

“who played that hello kitty game.”

Raven rested his head on Butters’ shoulders. “Butters isn’t that bad once you get to know him. I like him. He's cute and very nice. You'll like him too.”

He hoped his friends took the hint. He would be bringing Butters around regardless. Butters deserved better than those weirdos he hung around with now. At least his friends would talk to him and include him in their conversations. Raven would make sure that happened himself.

“Is this going to be a Romeo and Juliet thing? Are you two going to die at the end? I’ll supply the poison.” Henrietta sent.

“Can I stab Rav then?” Pete asked.

“i think hes supposed to stab himself,” Michael commented

“Do I die in this?” came Firkle’s reply. "Hope so.”

Raven relaxed. If they were wholly against the idea of Butters joining them, they weren’t going to make their feelings known in the chat.

“Butters, do you want to start sitting with me and my friends at lunch?” He asked offhandedly.

Butters looked up in surprise. “Golly, would they be ok with that? I don’t think they like me much...” His expression held more discontent than disappointment. Considering The Goths — Raven included — had often mocked both Butters and the Vamp Kids, Raven couldn’t say he found that too shocking.

“They’ll like you. I can see you have a Goth side in you. We just need to scrape off the bats and vampire shit.”

“You can’t get all of it, but you can sure try,” Butters said with a smile and laugh. He then added, “And, if you think they’ll like me there, sure! I’d love to sit with you! We can hold hands in the lunch line, and I can carry your tray for you!” His eyes sparkled.

Raven almost burst his bubble that, no, Butters would not be carrying his tray, when Butters continued with, “It’ll sure be swell to sit with people who actually want to talk to me for once.”

Raven let out a suppressed sigh through his nose, before nodding. Maybe having your boyfriend carry your tray for you was more of a preppy relationship mood than a Goth one, but he supposed he could allow it. He would just need to remember to bring a large book or something with him so it looked like his hands were too full to carry it himself.

More than satisfied, Butters when back to his game and Raven adjusted himself against his shoulder.

At least his worries were put to rest, for a few hours. Once he had to go home, his life would be a nightmare. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout. He didn’t want to admit he had a boyfriend to his whole family and answer all the questions that would bring. He really didn’t want to have his Dad mutter forced apologies that to he was expected to return. He would so much rather stay at Butters, doing nothing and enjoying each others company.

Instead of dwelling on that, Raven sent a message to the Goth chat that he would be going to bed then idly watched Butters play on his laptop.

The frog in this mini-game was playing a swamp themed version of Pong, and Butters was beating it with ease. Raven's eyes wandered down to Butters’ hands as they zipped lightning fast across the keyboard.

“You’re good at this,” Raven commented.

“Thanks!” Butters chirped. “You can try next if you want.”

He declined, “No, I’m actually tired. Today was...a day.”

All of a sudden, he realized just how exhausted he actually was. His whole body felt heavy and a haze of sleep clouded his thoughts. His eyelids started to droop.

Seeing this, Butters jumped into action. He closed his laptop then scooched over, careful to make sure Raven didn’t fall down. With a smile, Butters proudly swung out his arm to offer the bed.

Raven blinked tiredly a few times before asking, “Where are you going to sleep?”

Did Butters want to sleep together? Would that be weird? They only started dating a few hours ago. Wasn’t Butters the kind of person to hog the bed? Or was that Kyle? Raven couldn’t remember.

Butters shook his head. “I don’t need to, but you do. Go on. My bed’s really comfy, and I washed the sheets just yesterday.”

Raven didn’t protest that. Instead, he kicked his shoes off before crawling under the covers. Maybe it was just because he was dog tired, but Raven had to admit, Butters was right about how comfy the bed was.

“I’ll get the lights for you.” Butters walked backward a few steps to the switch.

“Thanks,” Raven muttered with his eyes slipping shut. All the stress of the day melted away under the warm blanket, taking his conscience with it.

~~~~

His mom nearly crushed him in her embrace the next morning with his sister standing close behind. His dad hadn’t come to the Stotch’s to pick him up and Raven was ok with that.

After taking a second to look around and deciding that it was safe, he raised his arms and hugged her back.

“Don’t you ever worry me like that again,” She ordered when she pulled back. His mom placed a hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes.

“Sorry,” Raven muttered, but he didn’t go to move her hand. He let himself enjoy the maternal worry and affection he’d been avoiding for the last few years.

With a breath, he asked, “Did you talk to Dad? What did he say? This isn’t my fault.”

His mother sighed. She opened her mouth to speak, but his sister beat her to it.

“He said you were gay and that’s why you’re acting like,” Shelley gestured to him, “this.”

Raven’s face heated up. He took a step back, nearly bumping into Butters and Mrs. Stotch.

He grabbed for Butters’ hand, squeezing partly for support and partly as a point, before he stated flatly, “Just because I have a boyfriend doesn’t make me gay. Labels are stupid and for conformists anyway.”

A mild surprise crossed his mom’s face. She stood, shaking her head, as Shelley snorted into her hand and muttered, “Called it.”

“I hope he wasn’t too much trouble, Linda,” His mom said to Mrs. Stotch.

“Oh, he was a perfect gentleman all night,” Mrs. Stotch waved her hand. “Wasn’t too loud and didn’t make a mess, unlike the last time Butters brought over any of his little vampire friends.”

“Mom, stop, please!” Butters hid his face in his hands. Raven could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“He was just wonderful,” she continued as if she didn’t hear her son whine. “There wasn’t one spilled glass of tomato juice anywhere.”

Raven tapped Butters’ side with their connected hands in a comforting display. Maybe Butters let his parents do this so he had someone to keep him humble, or maybe not. Raven would try to remember to ask later.

“Thank you again for letting him stay,” his mom replied. To Raven, she said, “Come on, honey. It’s time to go home.”

Raven nodded, disentangling his hands from Butters. He didn’t have mittens, but his mom had brought a coat with them. As he slipped the warm coat on, Shelley stepped closer.

She whispered, “He’s not going to try and break in through the window to suck your blood, is he?”

Raven nearly choked on air. His brain floundered for a reply until Shelley continued, “Eric told me when I was babysitting him, Butters did that to him once.”

Raven turned the sigh he let out into a dismissive snort halfway through. “Of course not, vampires aren’t real, Shelley. Get your head out of those trashy wastes of paper you read.”

Shelley put a hand on his shoulder and then shoved him roughly towards the door.

He stumbled but rolled his eyes in the end. This was still a step down from the fights they got into when they were younger.

As his family shuffled out with his mom yelling one more thank you to Mr. and Mrs. Stotch, Raven took a few steps off the porch. The snow came over his shoes and to his ankles. He could feel some of it fall into his shoes and melt on his socks.

He shuddered, trying to imagine what would have happened if he’d actually spent the night outside in that storm.

A few steps into the Stotch’s yard, the door opened again and Butters hurried out. He wasn’t wearing shoes, but the cold didn’t seem to bother him.

He pulled Raven into a hug then kissed his cheek before turning back on his heels and headed back to the house. Over his shoulder, Butters chirped, “Text me when you get home!”

Raven placed his hand over his cheek, smiling softly. Shelley looked over his shoulder at his face then snorted.

“Wow, just went right head over heels, huh? Didn’t know you had a kink for short, dark, and dorky,” She taunted, earning a glare. Raven shoved his hands into his pockets and marched past her.

“Screw you, at least I have a boyfriend,” Raven grumbled. He heard the low, threatening rumble in Shelley’s throat and picked up his pace, only to find himself tripping over the sidewalk and falling face first into the snow.

~~~~

He knew it was stupid to think that, now that they were dating, feedings would be a less disgusting and uncomfortable chore, but he did it anyway.

It was Sunday. Usually, Sundays were off days, a side effect of Raven tasting, as Butters claimed, “too Holy and Churchy.”

Raven didn't know what that meant and didn't bother to ask.

But Raven had been too tired the day prior and church had been canceled the night before due to the weather, so they agreed it would be best for Butters to just come over on Sunday night.

The moment Butters snuck through his window, Raven made a vow to somehow get revenge on his sister for how correct her joking prediction had been.

Raven leaned slight back against Butters. Butters wasn’t all that warm from his trip between their house, but he was soft. Reciprocating the affection, Butters tighten his grip around Raven’s middle.

Raven then eyes rolled over to his door. He locked it the moment Butters came tapping against the glass, as he didn’t want his dad trying to have a ‘bonding moment’ by bursting in when Raven was supposed to be in bed.

He nearly winced thinking about his dad. When he returned home Saturday, his dad offered a begrudging apology, and Raven accepted it just as begrudgingly. He knew full well that his dad wouldn’t stop whining about him being Goth, but at least the current familial drama had subsided.

Until next time...

Before Raven could dwell on that thought, Butters pulled back.

He licked his lips. “Ah, that’s good stuff.”

Raven grunted, scooting back farther between Butters’ legs until his back was pressed against his front. Butters snuggled against him, slightly too warm breath on Raven’s shoulders.

Nonetheless, this was peaceful. Raven shut his eyes, listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall, the wind outside, and his own breathing.

He tried to hold tight to the feeling of ease and store it away. School, he knew, would be more of a nightmare than usual. While Raven wasn't one of those preppy, conformist popular kids, a shake-up of the status quo between the Goths and the Vamps would definitely cause waves that would spread throughout the school.

Not that he cared about what everyone else would think. He was way to Goth for that.

The only problem he should be focusing on would be giving Butters a list of every topic he wasn’t allowed to talk about, now that Raven decided to turn him from a wannabe to an actual, independent, nonconformist Goth — like him and his friends.

But that could wait until the morning — all the repercussions and preparations could wait until the morning. For now, Raven wanted to just enjoy the moment of peace with his boyfriend.

~~~

I hope everyone enjoyed! This was a lot of fun to write. I really loved the artist's work and how Raven looked just 100% done and begrudging in their art! =D

Feel free to follow me here or on Ao3 (UAs_fics) for more of my written works if you enjoyed. :)

#sp stutters #stan marsh #Butters Stotch #fanfiction #goth!stan #raven marsh #multi-chapter #vampire butters

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trpg-dingusmaster · 4 years ago

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A little update on how things have been going.

I’ve been trying to go through the 1/2 finished minis and finally finish them.

I got through the dragonstrike project for my brother, 6 heroes and 3 villains- I’d do more but I only wanted to paint his duplicate villains because they’re the original minis not pewter replaments

I finished a 1/2 orc monk that was originally the human Wizard for the dragonstrike project.

I did a blue aasimar from a pair (the other is brass, already done)

That purple and orange kamadan from a looooong while ago is done.... I almost broke it it was a real hassle.

I’ve got a demogorgon assembled. Ready to be primed once the glue is fully set and stable and a color palette picked out.

I’ve got a dragon that was one of those cheap Papo toys? And I’m repainting it to look like an enchanted stone dragon. I think?? I’ve got the stone look as good as i can make it. So later the magical glowy shit. Hopefully it’ll look neat? I was gonna make it like... a calico? But I changed my mind. Maybe a different dragon later.

I fixed some minis that got damaged.

And finished three that I primed but then immediately put in the drawer to be forgotten. A mind flayer, a spear lady, a lizard an wizard man. of them I need to go over again? But it’s probably fine.

I have a few more that got primed then forgotten and hopefully I’ll finish before too long. A dwarf, an archer, a jackalman/Khenra, a swordsperson, and a papo spider.

Also been slowly working on a finchgriffin.

Is it productive time use? I’m not sure but my hands are busy and I’m not thinking about the state of things I cannot control or change.

The dnd goes to hell campain1 is going along. Still fine. My cleric is still alive but we just reached hell so, we shall see.

Wednesday group is going, a winters homebrew set mostly in a megadungeon mine. My goose/aarakocra barbarian man is still alive but we had many close calls. He might take a dip into paladin. I thought about switching his barb subclass to the beast path from tashas but. I dunno. It might be too late for that unless I talk to the gm more about it.

My Saturday game fell apart/undetermined hiatus. The player I didn’t know joined while in the middle of a weird life situation and kept doing weird things like massive multitasking while playing? Like painting her living room?? And eventually she stopped showing because of Weird life situation.

And I had a lot of difficulty finding things that all of them wanted to do. A thread that one like the others wouldn’t care about, a hook that caught a different one that wouldn’t get the others. If any seemed to get them at all.

There was a whole session almost of literally nothing but me listing hooks and guiding them by the hand to things they could do but 2/3 just refused to participate entirely. That was the last session we had. Maybe I could have done things differently I guess, but I feel like i couldn’t have done more? You know?

Ive almost finished filling out everything in r20 to run a little vtm 2e introduction module I have? Idk if I’ll use it but again it’s something to do that wasnt being distressed about general state of the world around me.

The adnd game on teusday is still on hiatus I think? I’ll find out for sure on teusday. It should be starting back up this months though.

#a long general update

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luuma-makes-games · 3 years ago

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Art by Tiffany "arty" Boother This month, truth compels me to write four subclasses. Every single one of them are completely new, and I'm polishing up the final one as we speak. This first subclass, the Spelleater (gmbinder doc here) takes a theme that is notoriously hard to execute (good at beating up wizards) and does as much as it can to actualise that idea: its benefits still completely deck most spellcasters, but they also work reasonably well against pretty much any foe there is. Antimagic Vigor is essentially the opposite of a barbarian rage (or rune knight's hill rune), and gives you a combat's worth of survival and ultra high saving throws vs magic. Spell Drain is my favorite part of it. You cause a bunch of creatures to succeed on a save against a spell being cast - but the spell can be from either friend or foe! Now you can work in tandem with other spellcasters to shape your allies' spells safely round the party, Or, you can just completely screw a lich over. Either way, you get to absorb the magic into your sword, and then unleash it the next time you attack. It's a really nice feature that makes them fantastic against spellcasters while still being handy elsewhere!

#dnd #dnd homebrew #homebrew #dungeons and dragons #dnd subclass #subclass #Subclass Saturday month #fighter #dnd fighter

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comfsy · 5 years ago

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I’m In The Vulnerable Class for COVID-19. A Plea To Take This Virus Seriously.

A friend of mine recently texted me in a fury.

“Someone just posted on FB that we’re doing things to stop the virus only because it’s going to ‘hurt old people’s feelings’ if we don’t,” he said.

His mother has respiratory issues and thus falls into the “older person vulnerable to the new coronavirus” category, as do many others.

Like me.

And I can read.

So when I read tweets or posts about how it’s basically “just a flu” (false) that “only hurts the vulnerable,” it makes me worry for us as a society. If we can’t protect our most vulnerable, what are we doing?

Don’t panic. Doctors/ virologists I’m speaking to say 98% of people will be fine, even if they get Covid-19. They expect it will go around the world, but that most people who get it will be a little sick, then recover. The danger is to vulnerable people. Hospitals/ old age homes.

— Richard Engel (@RichardEngel) February 26, 2020

COVID-19: We Need to Consider Society As a Whole

I’ve received many reader emails about COVID-19 asking for my thoughts given that I am currently dealing with a cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) leak and an inflammatory immune condition that already predisposes me to a cytokine storm.

It’s been very surreal to see the news unfold at a time when I have been in quarantine of sorts (bedrest) for many, many months. Due to the CSF leak, I rely on family and friends for groceries and to make food as I cannot do so myself. For those who are chronically ill, the lack of independence for basic needs adds an extra layer of concern and need for care on a daily basis.

The discourse about Covid-19 seems to consist of differing responses from several distinct groups of people

First, the people who are well and who believe they’ll be unscathed. This “isn’t a big deal,” they say. “Why is the media making us panic?”

Second, those who are vulnerable like me, and who know they are at risk for significant complications if they contract the virus.

There are some people who live in between those two extremes, and while healthy themselves are nonetheless able to remember a series of subclasses whose lives legitimately depend on the collective to stay safe.

And then, there are others whose actions are downright dangerous for all of us. This includes NBA player Rudy Gobert. Per Hot Air’s report:

I doubt we’ll get a better case study during this nightmare of how a single person’s cavalier denialism about the threat from the disease can put entire industries at risk. This happened two days ago. Gobert apparently thought it was silly that the NBA had set a new rule requiring reporters to stay six feet away from players at all time. So, as a goof, he decided to touch all of their microphones after his Q&A ended.

After mocking COVID-19 precautions by touching a bunch of things — he then tested positive. And like any exponential virus, others are testing positive too.

Jazz star Donovan Mitchell has tested positive for the coronavirus, league sources tell ESPN. Jazz players privately say that Rudy Gobert had been careless in the locker room touching other players and their belongings. Now a Jazz teammate has tested positive.

— Adrian Wojnarowski (@wojespn) March 12, 2020

Ultimately, Engel isn’t wrong from a statistical perspective.

He’s also not the first or last person I’ve seen try to stem the panic by reminding people of the expandability of the vulnerable like me.

I’m writing this post as a plea to each person to put overall societal needs above individual desires until this virus peaks.

I am not a doctor, and the following is not medical advice. It is, however, a summary of what I’ve researched for my own safety given my immune system.

Disinformation and panic don’t help anyone, especially during a pandemic.

By now, you’re probably living under a rock if you don’t know what the severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2), the artist formerly known as 2019-nCoV until it was named COVID-19. People also refer to it as “coronavirus”, but since it’s one of many coronaviruses, I’m not going to do that here.

People also refer to it as the “Wuhan flu,” but since it’s actually not a flu virus and people are already erroneously comparing it to the flu, I’m going to stick to COVID-19 for this piece. (See below for my response to the the “it’s just the flu” people.)

COVID-19 is a called Novel Coronavirus because it’s a new disease for humans. The World Health Organization estimates a global death rate of 3.4%. While people around the world may have built up an immunity to the flu over time, the newness of the COVID-19 means no one had immunity when it first broke out. There’s no current way to cure it.

The fast spread of this virus has led to heavy amounts of disinformation and even outright conspiracy theories. I’ve argued with quite a few people online who suggest that this is “just like the flu,” or that “most people barely feel sick.” In an internet age where we are able to get fast data out of countries that are ahead of our curve here in North America, there is simply no excuse for not acting as swiftly as possible.

Panic isn’t useful.

Changing nothing in your life isn’t useful either – it’s actually outright dangerous right now.

In the middle lies being informed, prepared, and willing to think about society as a whole. Doing so lowers the burden on our health care systems, and buys a bit more time for treatments and research to happen. Reducing the number of people who are sick at once is the best way to keep our health system from being overwhelmed. And that in turn helps not just COVID-19 patients but also everyone else who must seek treatment in a hospital.

Two factors that make COVID-19 a big concern to everyone:

A medical system that is over capacity, where doctors will need to decide who coming in gets a ventilator, who gets a bed, and more – not just COVID-19 patients, but other vulnerable patients with chronic diseases. Data tracks at a 10% hospitalization rate in Italy, with those in critical condition needing 3-6 weeks for recovery. That is a very long strain on the system.

The lack of immunity to the disease worldwide means that there’s no ceiling on the amount of people who can get infected. Presently, cases of COVID-19 are doubling in only a few days’ time. Research labs and scientists around the world are racing to find a vaccine that works, but as of today there is simply mitigation, planning, and attempts at slowing down the progression.

Yes, the bulk of infections will be mild.

Those people will still transmit this highly contagious disease, though. And even if you’re fully asymptomatic, you can still spread this virus in the process as a vector.

Which is why acting now, even if you’re healthy, is critical.

This also means preparing without panic, being reasonable about what we need and don’t need without hoarding, and above all considering our roles as citizens in a collective. As Mark Manson said in a new post:

So, while staying home, from an individual risk perspective, seems unnecessary and an overreaction, from a systemic risk perspective, it’s the only prudent thing to do. The more people who go out and about, the faster this thing spreads, and the faster this thing spreads, the more the hospitals get flooded, and the more the hospitals get flooded, the more people die unnecessarily.

This chart put together today by the Institute of Disease Prevention shows the potential mitigation of COVID-19 for King and Snohomish counties in Washington State by taking precautions sooner rather than later.

Infections with and without social distancing COVID19, courtesy of the Institute for Disease Prevention

This virus is beyond containment worldwide, and acting swiftly but calmly is imperative.

Learning from Italy

Outside of mainland China, Italy now has the highest number of deaths in the world from COVID-19, the disease caused by the new coronavirus. And the country’s fatality rate from COVID-19—at 5%—is much higher than the global average of 3.4%.

Here's the last 8 days of US #covid19 testing mapped to Italy's numbers starting on 2/22. The trend looks awful similar. pic.twitter.com/zZ3ng396Jf

— Eli Pariser (@elipariser) March 11, 2020

Why is Italy’s death rate so high? Italy has conducted a substantial number of tests — more than 42,000 as of Saturday (March 7), according to Al Jazeera. But the size of the outbreak and the late adoption of containment measures combined with speed of spread meant that Lombardy and to a lesser extent other areas in Italy are unable to get back to a place of balance. The strain on the system is so bad that the Italian College of Anesthesia, Analgesia, Resuscitation and Intensive Care (SIAARTI) has shared guidelines (link is in Italian) for the criteria that doctors and nurses should follow in these extraordinary circumstances, likening them to the moral choices doctors face during wartime. They require doctors to allocate ICU access to the patients with the highest chance of therapeutic success. This may seem logical and even utilitarian, but it’s a devastating position to be in every day during an outbreak.

At the same time, an Italian doctor begged other countries to act now. Dr. Daniele Macchini posted (link is in Italian; English here) about what’s happening on the front lines of Italian’s coronavirus response, noting that each ventilator was like gold. He notes that there are no more specialist doctors, just doctors as a whole, a single team to try and stop the inflow of sick people. Italy does have a sizeable older population, but the case study of Dr Macchini and others on the front lines would be foolish to ignore.

The foregoing is not “media hype” but rather published testimony and guidelines from a country right in the middle of a substantial outbreak.

We need to think through the exponential growth of this disease, and we don’t seem to be doing so on a systemic level. The way exponential growth works is that seems tolerable until suddenly it’s an avalanche – and then it’s often too late.

Let’s try to avoid the avalanche.

Risk Groups for COVID-19

Briefly, because we’ve all been bombarded with graphs these days, a note about mortality and risk groups.

The pre-existing conditions that are known to be a factor in worsening COVID-19 infections in patients:

Risk factors COVID-19 via NatGeo

The medical consensus is that those over 60 years old, and those with underlying health conditions are the most impacted by the disease.

For those who are chronically ill and/or fall into these categories, extra precaution is needed. What is also needed — as this post will keep saying over and over — is for everyone to take social reduction seriously, especially because of testing limitations in many countries but especially the United States.

In addition to the main pre-existing conditions listed above, immunocompromised patients are at higher risk for fatalities. And there are millions of immunocompromised people in America alone, a number which not only comprises those with immunodeficiency syndromes but also people with cancer – who are accounted for in the above chart – or who have been treated for it, people who have received transplants, people with HIV, and more.

Symptoms and mitigation when starting to feel sick

The symptoms of Covid-19 vary from case to case. From China’s data, the most common are:

fever

dry cough (majority of cases)

fatigue

mucus coughing up from the respiratory tract (called sputum)

If you have a fever and dry cough alone, advice from interviewed doctors is to get tested by calling your department of health – NOT by presenting to the ER or Urgent Care where you could potentially infect others.

Generally, contacting your department of health for your state, province, or territory is the best option.

For Americans: state department of health contact information here.

For Canadians, scroll down to the phone numbers of each provincial health department, here.

Where testing comes in

Data from Italy suggests that many cases went undetected and enabled community spread. This data is part of why it is extremely important to get testing capacity up to population numbers, and why containment in the USA is going to be a big problem.

As of March 11, 2020, it’s still difficult to get tested in the USA.

Several Legal Nomads readers have reported all the symptoms, a doctor’s request for testing in the USA, and still were told by the Department of Health in their state that they were not eligible.

Those readers did the smart thing and put themselves on self-quarantine, but what of the others who did not?

Based on exported cases to other countries, Italy may have had about 4000 #COVID19 cases by end of Feb, rather than the 1100 that were reported, suggesting about 70% of cases went undetected. More great analysis by @AshTuite and co https://t.co/CI4dENGlyr

— Adam Kucharski (@AdamJKucharski) March 6, 2020

Strain on the hospital system when catastrophe medicine is at play, especially in the USA

The facts for the US heath care system during this pandemic are not great.

According to the American Hospital Association, the US has 924,107 beds total, in the USA. On a per capita basis, as of 2017 that was 2.77 beds per 1000 people. For comparison, China’s 2017 per capita bed ratio was 4.05 beds per 1000 people. (See OECD heathcare stats here.)

Put simply, there are not enough hospital beds in the USA for an outbreak of the kind we’ve seen elsewhere, nor for the projection of hospitalizations – 4 to 8 million – that researchers estimate the United States will see. In fact, the US’ hospital beds per 1000 people is also smaller than the other main countries overwhelmed with an outbreak. In 2017, Italy is at 3.18, and South Korea at 12.27, both beds per 1000 people.

Moreover, with at-will employment in many states, little sick days, especially in jobs that are front-facing (service industry, food industry, etc), community spread is a valid concern.

And then there’s patients who are chronically ill and depend on medication and hospital needs even outside the “at-risk” aspect of COVID19. If the system is overwhelmed as we’ve seen happen elsewhere, deaths from pre-existing conditions that can’t get properly treated are more likely.

From a family friend, a doctor in Indiana who reviewed the Indiana State Department of Health Crisis Standard for Ventilator Allocation:

Here’s the problem: If we can’t find a way to slow the spread of this virus in the United States, the healthcare system will be faced with a surge of patients that may overcome available healthcare resources. Things like ventilators and ICU beds may be inadequate.

But most patients survive, right? The flu kills more people, right? Well, that’s again not the whole truth. Take a look at the news out of Italy. Hospitals are overrun at 200% capacity. They have ICU patients in operating rooms. They have run out of ventilators. Patients are being triaged into likely to survive or not likely to survive. The former receive a ventilator. The latter receive oxygen and medications to keep them comfortable as they die. That’s because this virus is capable of making people – especially older people and people with comorbid conditions – very very ill. None of us have immunity to this illness, and unlike flu none of us have been vaccinated against COVID-19. If this illness is allowed to spread unchecked, far too many patients will require care at the same time forcing doctors and hospitals to choose between patients who are likely to survive and those who are not – a process called ventilator allocation.

Oh come on, isn’t it just like the flu?

No.

For the love of all things holy, NO.

This isn’t the flu – it’s a different virus altogether. Scientists in Asia have described it as a cross between SARS and AIDS in terms of how it impacts the body.

It is more contagious than the flu.

It is more deadly than the flu.

Even assuming a global death rate of 1% (despite the current rate of 3.4-3.5% per the WHO), it would be 10x more deadly than the flu, which has a death rate of 0.1%.

COVID19 vs the flu, courtesy of Bloomberg.

The data from all around the world indicates a much higher mortality rate and a very different virus altogether from seasonal influenza. China’s datasets, as well as those from countries like Taiwan and Singapore where so far containment has been possible, have all provided us with information to help us see what’s coming.

And the success of our outcome depends on individual willingness to mitigate risk moment to moment.

So what can we do? Think collectively, not individually, to help flatten the curve of the epidemic.

“We are past the point of containment,” says @UWMedicine Dr. Helen Chu. “Now we need to keep the people who are vulnerable from getting sick.” #COVID19seattle @UWVirology @WADeptHealth WADeptHealth @KCPubHealth https://t.co/q4mvKarU2D

— UW Medicine Newsroom (@uwmnewsroom) March 6, 2020

For those who require hospitalization, they require the long term stays I mentioned earlier of ICU care for a period of 3-6 weeks. Italy thus far estimates that many COVID-19 patients need at least 4 weeks on mechanical ventilators.

That number would put hospital systems over capacity very quickly if we don’t flatten the curve on this virus.

via Vox news

This virus is going to affect your life. And you get to choose how you act to decide if you want to contribute to flattening the curve, or spiking it.

I sound like a broken record for social distancing because we know testing isn’t going to get everyone and thus if we want to have a bell curve more like South Korea versus like Italy, we need to start taking action on an individual level yesterday.

I realize not everyone has the privilege to work from home or to take all the measures I list below.

But doing the extent possible is extremely important from EVERYONE, in order to help ease the impact of this epidemic.

Fine, you’ve convinced me. Now how do I help stop the spread for COVID19?

Starting place: do not panic. Each of us thinks better and makes smarter decisions when we are not in cognitive overload. The earlier you take precautions, even if you’re not directly impacted yet by the virus, the better you can help lower the societal burden. Choose compassion for the societal burden over fear and distrust. I know it’s not easy, but as a collective we do depend on it. Worldwide data shows there’s no advantage to being a late mover here.

1. SOCIAL DISTANCING

Does your company let you work from home? Start doing so now.

Limit nonessential public gatherings.

Make small choices that can take out away from groups of people, even in quotidian activities. Refrain from museums, clubs, dancing, religious services, and more as this plays out. Crowded spots are prime dissemination spots.

What is a “public gathering”? Doctors I have spoken with define a public gathering as anything more than 6 people, but there doesn’t seem to be consensus overall as you can see with the number (5) below. Regardless of the actual numbers, social distancing is how we can have a hope at slowing the spread of COVID-19, and potentially mitigate its effects on the hospital system.

The same doctor who wrote about the — above, says:

This means not flying on a plane or taking a cruise or a train. This means cancelling your vacation. This means not going to gatherings of people. How many is too many people? To give you an idea, one of the health organizations I work for has banned meetings of more than 5 people. Most meetings are video or teleconferenced. So should you go to a crowded school event or a sporting event? NO! And school’s shouldn’t be so irresponsible to continue to offer such gatherings.

This also includes cancelling non-critical medical visits, to keep the hospitals and systems as clear as possible for the coming burden. Telemedicine has been available for a few years now, and this is definitely the time to avail yourself of it if you have the privilege to do so.

I’ve been telling people, “be St. Louis, not Philadelphia,” because in 1918, Philly held a huge parade during an influenza outbreak. In contrast, St. Louis cancelled all gatherings. As you can see from the chart below, the death toll was very different in those two cities.

There is a reason for canceling public gatherings. In a pandemic, don't be Philadelphia (held a parade in 1918 when cases started to come up, downplayed cases), be St. Louis (canceled gatherings). More here: https://t.co/KE7RYbxDGM @mlipsitch pic.twitter.com/wyrHx0nOLA

— Florian Krammer (@florian_krammer) March 6, 2020

It’s selfish to complain about “changing your plans” or making adjustments to social activity when the downside of doing nothing is systemic overload and catastrophe medicine. Again, this isn’t hype, this is simply a summary of what we’ve seen in other countries to date with medical systems that don’t have enough beds for contagion at this volume.

As Mark Manson says in a new post about COVID19 :

People like me don’t have the privilege to be out in the world safely right now, and nor do your parents and grandparents.

WASH YOUR HANDS. OFTEN. LONGER THAN YOU WANT TO.

The most important thing other than social distancing is to wash your hands, for 20 (long) seconds.

That’s a lot longer than most of us have been washing our hands. And we need to do it frequently. Before and after eating food. When returning home from outside. When in contact with anyone else. If there is a chance your unwashed fingers has the virus on them, you do not want that anywhere near you or your home.

Happy birthday sung twice is about the right length, so many people are singing that as they wash. Here’s a song generator from The Verge that can help you choose other options so you don’t hate birthdays by the end of this COVID19 pandemic.

Soap works very well on this virus, and it doesn’t need to be anti-bacterial soap. It just needs to be a looooong wash, because of the nature of the virus.

For the science behind why that is, see the thread below:

1/25 Part 1 – Why does soap work so well on the SARS-CoV-2, the coronavirus and indeed most viruses? Because it is a self-assembled nanoparticle in which the weakest link is the lipid (fatty) bilayer. A two part thread about soap, viruses and supramolecular chemistry #COVID19 pic.twitter.com/OCwqPjO5Ht

— Palli Thordarson (@PalliThordarson) March 8, 2020

If you cannot use soap and water because you’re away from access to it, alcohol-based hand sanitizer with over 60% alcohol content is a good stand in. When you do get access to water, though, soap and wash immediately.

STOP TOUCHING YOUR FACE

THIS IS SO HARD.

I’m not alone; a study from 2015 shows people touch their faces an average of 23 times per hour.

It’s very important though, and we have to keep avoiding it as much as possible. This includes the eyes, since ocular transmission has been one of the ways the virus is spread.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Matt Shirley (@mattsurelee) on Mar 6, 2020 at 2:50pm PST

DISPOSABLE GLOVES IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS.

Wear gloves or nitrile or latex disposable gloves when in public spaces like buses, subways, and other areas where you will be touching areas that others have touched like pumping gas.

If you are in a social situation where you need to remove your gloves, do not touch your face or eyes, no matter how much something itches. And before you put gloves back on, wash your hands thoroughly with soap and warm water, scrubbing the fingers.

STAY 2m (6 FT) AWAY FROM SICK PEOPLE, AND TRY TO KEEP DISTANCE OF 1m (3 FT) GENERALLY WHEN OUTSIDE.

This means life changes that have irritated some people, but nonetheless are reasonable precautions during an outbreak like this.

And still, social distancing takes precedence.

If you’re going to dine out, get take-out food and bring it home instead. Sit outside if there’s a terrace, instead of staying inside a closed restaurant. Netflix instead of a movie theatre. You get the drill.

THIS MEANS NO HAND SHAKING OR CHEEK KISSING TO GREET PEOPLE.

Curtsy, arm pump, touch your feet together, it doesn’t matter as long as you’re not actually touching your hand or face to someone else’s hand or face.

AVOID PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION AS MUCH AS YOU CAN.

This likely doesn’t require an explanation, but is to avoid a cough, sneeze, or hand-to-hand contact that can put us in the danger zone for droplet splatter or air particles that can transmit the virus.

DOORKNOBS: LEARN TO CLEAN THEM OFTEN AND TRY NOT TO USE THEM IN PUBLIC.

I’m very limited here because of my CSF leak, but for those of you who can open and close doors using your elbows, hips, or shoulders: do it. If not, wear gloves to turn a doorknob, or wash your hands immediately after touching it. If someone does get sick in your household, wiping down your doorknobs is a good idea too.

The CDC has a list of cleaning recommendations for COVID-19 here.

WIPE DOWN YOUR CELL PHONE WHEN YOU RETURN HOME FROM OUTSIDE.

I use alcohol-wipes for this, small size, but the ones I bought are no longer available. A spray bottle with rubbing alcohol sprayed onto a wipe will usually suffice. Apple used to say not to clean phones this way, but due to COVID-19, Apple has changed its guidelines. The company now says you can use a wipe with 70% isopropyl alcohol or a Clorox wipe to clean your iPhones.

WHEN THE WEATHER ALLOWS, OPEN A WINDOW.

This virus cannot linger in a well-ventilated space, per this FP article, though it’s quite cold in much of North America still.

ON MASKS

There’s a lot of controversy about masks. If you do choose to use one, you need to don and doff them with gloves on, and then make sure you properly dispose of the gloves.

When the mask has been taken of, place it inside of a disposable container or bag, seal it, and put it in the trash.

From a March 12th piece by The Guardian, they recommend wearing them when caring for sick people and when around sick people:

Wearing a face mask is certainly not an iron-clad guarantee that you won’t get sick – viruses can also transmit through the eyes and tiny viral particles, known as aerosols, can penetrate masks.

However, masks are effective at capturing droplets, which is a main transmission route of coronavirus, and some studies have estimated a roughly fivefold protection versus no barrier alone (although others have found lower levels of effectiveness).

If you are likely to be in close contact with someone infected, a mask cuts the chance of the disease being passed on. If you’re showing symptoms of coronavirus, or have been diagnosed, wearing a mask can also protect others. So masks are crucial for health and social care workers looking after patients and are also recommended for family members who need to care for someone who is ill – ideally both the patient and carer should have a mask.

However, masks will probably make little difference if you’re just walking around town or taking a bus so there is no need to bulk-buy a huge supply.

If someone is coughing or sneezing it’s good to ask them to put on a mask to protect you.

DON’T FORGET TO STAY SOCIAL, EVEN INSIDE

I’ve been on bedrest now for close to two years, and with technology I’ve been able to keep myself sane and connected with friends. In times like this, where fear often takes over, it’s even more important to stay in touch with people you love even if you can’t see them.

An epidemic of loneliness is not what does the immune system good. These are three things that really helped me during bedrest and isolation the last few years:

Schedule nighttime calls with friends to calm you before bed.

Watch Netflix programmes together, pressing play at the same time.

Start meditations in groups where everyone meditates starting at the same time.

STOCK UP, RESPONSIBLY

Make a list of crucial medication and cold/pain relief medication and stock up for a month’s extra supply – or more if your insurance allows.

In Canada, most people I’ve spoken with have gotten 2 months extra prescription medication filled. In the USA, this will vary by state and insurance provider.

Other things to have in the house:

All-purpose cleaner

Hand soap

Dish soap

Rubbing alcohol in case you need to dilute it to make a spray.

Paper towels

Cold & flu medicine that you favour, if any.

Painkillers like Tylenol or Advil

Latex gloves or nitrile gloves to wear donning and doffing masks, or for use outside the home.

Toilet paper (for a few weeks extra not a panicked by of a monster load of toilet paper!)

Bleach or Lysol or Clorox Wipes for cleaning.

Toothpaste

Laundry detergent

Some non-perishables that are easy to have in case you want to minimize your food trips: rice, canned tuna or chicken, protein bars, popcorn, crackers, nutritious seeds like flax or chia, peanut butter, oats, cans of chickpeas and beans, and oils you use to cook with. Also some frozen veggies.

Don’t forget the pets! Stock up on pet food for an extra month.

The vulnerable are worthy of protection too.

Today, Norway now has a mandatory quarantine for all inbound travelers and cancelled all schools, all sporting events, and has a mandatory quarantine for people coming into the country from abroad.

In the USA and Canada, these large-scale domestic measures have not happened yet, though more and more cancellations are happening each day.

We know that the countries that have been most successful at lowering their overall death rate are the ones who take swift, aggressive measures quickly.

In South Korea, for example, nearly 20,000 people are being tested every day for the virus and labs are working 24/7 to get testing kits back. This morning, I heard a segment on NPR from a man there who tested positive despite his only symptom being a slight cough. In Seoul, the radio anchor reported drive through testing with results delivered via text in 5-6 hours.

We can see from Italy what happens when we don’t take a preemptive, wide-reaching approach. Let’s not squander the horrifying lesson they taught us. It’s clear that the US does not have the capacity to test at high levels like South Korea, meaning many people who are otherwise asymptomatic could be infecting the vulnerable classes in society.

It took me many days to write this article because I can only stand for small 20 minute increments to write it with my CSF leak. But it’s well worth the “up time” if it makes a few more people take COVID19 seriously.

Stay home.

Do what you can to protect the at risk population.

Change your schedule, your patterns, your habits to the maximum extent you can.

Just because I’m vulnerable to this virus doesn’t mean I’m less worthy of staying well.

COVID-19 Resources

COVID-19 by the numbers (WORLDWIDE) – Worldometers

COVID-19 by the numbers (USA ONLY, including cases per county so people can track the spread locally) – Infection2020

How to prepare reasonably without panic – Virology Down Under

WHO global data for COVID-19

How does the virus affect the body – National Geographic

Stay The Fuck Home (a succinct summary)

The post I’m In The Vulnerable Class for COVID-19. A Plea To Take This Virus Seriously. appeared first on Legal Nomads.

I’m In The Vulnerable Class for COVID-19. A Plea To Take This Virus Seriously. published first on https://takebreaktravel.tumblr.com/

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nullset2 · 6 years ago

Text

Don't use null! Null is evil!

Often called the "billion-dollar mistake", the null symbol is a tremendous foe when programming, if mishandled.

The following article shows a definition of nulity, why it's bad, when can it be good, and what options do we have to avoid spending too much time handling nullity in the software we write.

What is nulity?

Without getting too philosophical about it, nulity represents the ability of a programming language to let us express not only the absence of a record or value, but rather the absence of definition behind a symbol. Something that is null is something that doesn't exist, doesn't exist yet, is undefined, or is invalid in some manner.

In other words, nulity in programming is an implicit way to establish nothingness, and by implication, whether the result of an operation or any given memory state is valid or not.

If something is null, we assert, such a something doesn't exist, or is not even defined to begin with, or is the result of an operation that has failed.

Do not conflate nulity with emptiness. Note, for example in a Java context, null is different from symbols like 0 or "", a String literal representing an object that has no character information associated to it, even though they may seem the same to the naive or the newbie.

It's a good thing that we have null, in a way, because the concept of nulity is natural to life. Think of the TP that you put next to your toilet.

Having an empty roll present is not the same than having no roll at all, because you can assess that a roll is empty if the cardboard tube is there, but you cannot make such an assessment on the length of the toilet paper remaining if there's no roll to begin with!

Keep this in mind: if you try to access information on something that's not existent, then you have a problem.

And why is this a problem in software? Because it gives us an easy way to shoot ourselves in the foot at every step of the million thousand step road we traverse.

Why is nulity bad?

The problem with including a symbol to represent nulity in programming languages is that it takes extra intellectual effort to decode its meaning in your code.

null is also global state, and keeping global state in your systems, unless you have a tremendously good reason to do so is usually a huge red flag that you need to redesign.

Since the meaning of a null isn't tacit and explicit, nor typed, when you use null in your programs, then other programmers have to take additional time and care to read through your code and understand the implications of nulity and mitigate them when working with your code. These can be a dime a dozen, dependent on context on one of the thousands of different parts of their systems.

Why is this noisy? Why is this bad? Why do I hate it? Well, NullPointerExceptions are the bread and butter of debugging. All of us have run into stupid, unexplainable, I-have-no-idea-why-this-is-happening NullPointerExceptions when coding. All of us have seen a web application error out with NullPointerException on the browser. So, null enables shitty code craftsmanship because some times it's easy to forget when a variable can be null. Simple as that. It makes for software that doesn't fail gracefully and that isn't resillient. Hundreds of additional engineering hours have to be poured into software to make it null-safe.

This isn't good form. We can make the programmer's job easier so they can focus on creating well-thought-out software that's a joy to use rather than having them write if(str == null || str.length() == 0) for the umpteenth time. We should develop services that don't ping us at 5 AM on Saturday because of an NPE provoked by a transient outage on a database server. We can do better.

How do different languages use nulity?

Let's make a brief pause to explore how different programming languages allow us to use different representations of nulity:

Traditional ANSI C has a macro NULL, referencing the type void *. Hence, there's no null in the same sense that more modern languages use, which makes it even less memory-safe (lol). The interpretation that we can give to this macro is that it's related to the concept of a null pointer, which is a pointer that points to nothing in memory (void*), thus, conveying the meaning that the pointer points to an invalid value, that is, points to nothing. An area undefined in memory in brute.

Memory-safe C-likes like Java have a standard null symbol, usually as a reserved word by itself. As we said, Java has null, Ruby has nil and Python has the singleton object None. PHP has the constant NULL. C# also has null. Most JVM-derived languages include the traditional java null in its syntax.

Javascript, funnily enough, has two forms of null: null and undefined. undefined means that a variable hasn't been assigned a value to, yet, but has been declared, and null is an assignment value that indicates nulity. Marvelous!

Scala, presents many different incarnations of it: Null, which is a Scala trait which can be applied to functions or objects, null which is a translation of the Java null, Nil, which is a zero-length list, Nothing, which is a trait, and None, which is a subclass of the Option type, together with the Some type (more on that in a moment) and can be used as a return value and explicitly helps deal with undefined symbols avoiding null-pointer exceptions. None is what is most commonly seen in Scala software.

Go nils are similar to C null-pointers. Idiomatically, they are actually Interfaces meant to be used as the zero-value of a struct, or value otherwise. That is, nil in Go doesn't work like null in other languages in the sense that it doesn't imply invalidity but rather only means uninitialization. In Go you cannot assign values to nil, but rather you can assign pointers and interfaces to nil. Thus, a bit more ceremony is necessary when making null-checks in Go since a simple value == nil will not suffice.

As we'll see in a few moments, Scala provides one of the very best ways to elegantly achieve null-safety, which is the Option type, and which allows one to elegantly and expressively enforce null-safety through the type system itself. Most programming languages have third-party implementations of the Option type, or in the case of Java since Java 8, built-in into the language as the Optional type.

How to avoid common null-related pitfalls

The first strategy, of course, is conscientiousness! Be conscious of your code! Think! Be aware! On OOP languages, before you access any member of anything that could be null, make a null-check!

Person alice = personManager.getPersonByName("Alice"); //uh-oh! this can be null! Month monthOfBirth = Month.of(alice.getBirthday().getMonth()); String result = "Woo! Alice was born in " + monthOfBirth.name(); System.out.println(result);

Consider the following:

What if alice is never found? alice is then null, so what will happen when you try alice.getBirthday()?

What if alice has no birthday information associated to her on the database yet? alice is not null, but maybe you'd like to set up a "safe default" to display in such a case.

What if alice entered a Year of birth but for some reason there's no result from the database for getMonth() in runtime? What happens when you try to invoke monthOfBirth.name()? Shit hits the fan.

You're coding exclusively against the happy-path. This is terrible programming practice. So, simply, evaluate against all of those scenarios defensively:

String result; Person alice = personManager.getPersonByName("Alice"); if(alice != null && alice.getBirthday() != null){ Month monthOfBirth = Month.of(alice.getBirthday().getMonth()); String monthOfBirthName; if(monthOfBirth != null) monthOfBirthName = monthOfBirth.name(); else monthOfBirthName = "an unknown month!"; result = "Woo! Alice was born in " + monthOfBirthName; System.out.println(result); }

Presto, no more NullPointerException!

(Yes, I am aware that both Date and Month are deprecated in modern Java. Bear with me, this is only an example to exemplify how to deal with null)

So basically, be aware: - If null is a reasonable input parameter for your method, fix the method to account for it. - If null is unacceptable, fix the caller instead. What does "reasonable" mean here? You decide.

(NOTE: Here, we are also leveraging the fact that the java operator && is short-circuiting. In some other languages it works differently but on languages similar to java, logical AND operations are evaluated left-to-right, and upon first failure of the logical check by finding a false, the program gives up and stops evaluating the statement.)

But this is too noisy and too bulky! People may even want to write more to evaluate against different members of the alice object. Yuck!. What options do we have?

Null-safe navigation and null-coalescing

Well, the second strategy is that we can use a language that has features for safe navigation (also called null-conditional), and null-coalescing. Let's think of the Groovy language now.

In groovy, the idea of safe-navigation is the ability to access members on an object without triggering NPE's. This syntactic sugar is baked right into the language through the use of the ?. operator. C# also has the ?. operator and Ruby, as of 2.3, has the &. operator, which does the same. This will gracefully handle failure in case one of the dependencies of your object is null by returning null the very moment you try to access a member on null, so you can stop worrying so much about handling null checks.

In groovy there's also null-coalescing with the ?: operator, funnily called the "Elvis" operator (because if you look at it sideways it looks like Elvis' hair and eyes), which takes two expressions and will immediately default to the right hand expresion if the expression on the left is null or false.

The previous blob of java code becomes, thus:

def alice = personManager.getPersonByName("Alice") def monthOfBirthName = Month.of(alice?.getBirthday()?.getMonth())?.name() ?: "an unknown month!" String result = "Woo! Alice was born in " + monthOfBirthName println(result)

Doesn't that feel a lot better? It does for me.

Scala Option and Java 8 Optional

Finally, the last option is to leverage a language's type system to expressively state that a value can be null and whatever rules you want to set around it to handle what will your program do when the value is valid and existing or the contrary.

Scala has one of the best implementations of this in the Option type, documented in depth here. Basically we're letting the compiler know that, in runtime, an object may not be defined. Used in tandem with other constructs in this language you can come up with very expressive ways to handle values that can possibly be null. Following the same example, take a look at this highly idiomatic example with FP:

val alice : Option[Person] = personManager getPersonByName "Alice" //let's assume this returns a None val monthOfBirthName: Option[String] = alice map { _.getBirthday } map { b => Month.of(b.getMonth) } map { _.name } println("Woo! Alice was born in " + (monthOfBirthName getOrElse "an unknown month!"))

Here, the Option type gives us the getOrElse method which is used to provide a safe default whenever we try to inspect that object.

Here's the kicker: when you have an Option object which really is defined, you get a Some value, else, it's None. If you try to map Some value, then the result will be Some, but if you try to map a None, the result will also be None and getOrElse will just fall back to the safe default!

Using Option types liberally is universally preferred against null usage in Scala. You should never, ever return or handle nulls in scala. You should always return an Option whenever possible and let the handler "unwrap" the objects to their convenience.

So, in good Java tradition, 7 years later, probably after discussing mutexes and locks for too long, the Java language finally caught up to Scala and added the Optional type together with all the sweet Functional Programming sauce they've been adding to java and it makes our job easier. Now, being exclusively Java-8 idiomatic:

Optional<person> alice = Optional.ofNullable(personManager.getPersonByName("Alice")); String result = "Woo! Alice was born in " + alice.map(Person::getBirthday).map(Date::getMonth) .map(Month::of) .map(Month::name) .orElse("an unknown month!"); System.out.println(result);

Which is still quite verbose but not as quite as we started with, not to mention that it plays Fantastically with streams. Cool, right?

Conclusion

We have now seen the most modern alternatives in three different languages to handle nulity and you should be at least superficially acquainted with the implications of its use.

What do you think?

Please keep in mind this when writing your next piece of software and if you have any additions to contribute or anything that you'd like to discuss about this or other subjects in programming, please toss me a line and I'll get in touch with you.

#works #null #nulity #programming #programming languages #scala #java #c #javascript #best practices #null safety #null-safety

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