#The wood was microwaved when I got it home so no nasties in it!

[oculusxcaro]

Pottering around still! Just been a little proccupied with @teethofthedeeps but I'm getting my spoons back and will start focusing on catching up elsewhere including here. Also a belated munday, not for me but R.orschach! He's growing fast now and I'm getting his tank ordered next week while the family is away... he's just had his enclosure cleaned out, with lots of fresh new bedding plus some treats from today's morning walk with the dog. Fresh bit of wood, some flowers and fallen leaves makes for a happy snake!

[tripstitan]

Yee Gods Yes

Found this on Harvard Health while I was thinking up a reply to a post about which hypersensitivity a person has the most of. (Hint, for me, it's all. Tactile, light, sound, crowd-overstimulation... Every sense of mine is heightened except smell, which I do not have as a sense. I'm anosmic I think is the term.)

Holy hell that would have been useful when I was trying to "be normal" for most of my life, trying to act as if I were neurotypical and not disabled, trying to work within the bounds of society's expected rules. Way to go Harvard Health. This sorta stuff needs to be seen more often by more people, especially employers.

I don't even realize that I'm stimming when I have to "even out" the pressure on either sides of my cuticles. Like if my right thumb gets pressure along its left half, I have to tap/press the right half of the cuticle thingy in response. Sometimes I just have to hit both sides, then eventually, all my fingers need evening out on both sides of my nail(which, once I notice, can become a near endless spiral, because I use my other finger edges to even out the pressure on my other finger edges...)

Don't even get me started on how wearing denim feels like my flesh is on fire. (Tactile hypersensitivity + fibromialgia = NO JEANS PLEASE.)

I used to be more heavily synesthetic, or have synesthesia to a higher degree. (Maybe I still do, but I've avoided the main triggers for a long, long time.) To me, voices and sounds have/had flavor. Too many voices/too much sound ends up just tasting like vomit, just nasty worst flavors combined coming to the fore. Yuck. Crowds suck. School assemblies SUUUUUUUCKED. I know I was a weird creepy kid, and the few things I remember from my past (yay trauma blanking out memories for me,) I'm pretty regretful of. I was sheltered, and I was an idiot... but I... anyway, let's just say I'm glad I'm in a position in life where if I don't want to, I'll never have to enter a crowded/loud space ever again.

As far as sound, and/or light, it depends on the day, because I do get photosensitive migraines, but I'm hyperaural/hyperaudiosensitive all the time. Depending on how I focus my ears, I can hear things, usually further away things, more clearly. It feels like I'm turning an internal radar dish in a crowded room, picking up other people's conversations, unable to hear the person right next to me trying to speak over the noise. ... I can also hear the thrum of electricity in power lines, and, with enough familiarity, can tell you whether or not someone has more appliances running than normal at the end of a segment of power lines. (I could always tell if dad was watching TV before I made it the 200 yards home down our long-arse dirt driveway basically out in the woods, based on the static hum in the power lines. It was just a tiny bit more audible, or a slightly different pitch. I think I probably could have also learned to guess if he'd opened the fridge and it had to kick in to cool things, or was using the microwave, but the easiest one to prove was the TV being on, or not, as based on the sound when I arrived home from school.)

Sarcasm suuuuuucks to try to detect. I trained myself to learn inflections and so on, and some people deliver without inflection! Or use it online, where there is no inflection! I... yeah I went undiagnosed most of my life, my therapist and I are proud of how far I'd come without help, without even knowing what I was facing. I grew up pretty poor, raised by a single parent, in the 80s and early 90s into late nineties and early 2000s, before there really was a ubiquity of internet access, before anyone could even reasonably be expected to have access to information, especially when living in such a rural area, or areas, as we did.

Anyway, sort of like Ren's admission in Hi Ren, as I got older, I learned to be less rigid about attempting to fit into society, and I honestly lucked out by landing on my feet in the way that I did. It was a pretty long, multi-year fall, a tumble if you will, to the outskirts and edges of society. Not quite as graceful or eloquent as Ren's "an eternal dance, a pendulum swinging between the light and the dark, and that the harder the light shone, the deeper the darkness that followed it" or such. I'm paraphrasing. (Seriously, if you haven't watched it, Hi Ren puts a lot of feelings to words that peeps in our situations feel and deal with. Impostor syndrome, depression, intrusive thoughts, struggling with disabilities and getting the help we need, and so on. I guess content warning for it, since it's pretty personal and deep. I dunno what TW to say, maybe uh... bpd? Ren acts out two different internal voices in the song.)

Gods, I'm letting all this stuff get way too personal. It's just supposed to be my webnovel ad blog thingy. Then again, AAoMM is a huge part of me, it's a chunk of almost everything that I am, in a lot of ways. It's already pretty darn personal, carrying so much of me with it.

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Less Than

my new Daniel/Armand fic. read it below or here

Daniel has been banished to the couch. Again.

It is, admittedly, his fault. He and Armand were arguing (they're always arguing these days) and he'd said some cruel, nasty things. Nasty enough to make Armand storm off and lock himself in the bedroom. Daniel's pretty sure he had been crying. No amount of pleading or apologizing had been able to get him out or have him open the door. Then, when Armand finally had came out, the argument had started right back up again.

Which is how Daniel finds himself sleeping on the couch again. It's really hard to do without the special blackout glass in the bedroom. Even after all this time, sleeping in the daylight is hard. But he has to keep Armand's hours. (Everything always has to be Armand's way.)

He gives up on sleep after an hour. Feeling defeated, he trudges down the hall to the bedroom and knocks on the door. “You awake, baby?” There's no response. Probably means Armand is ignoring him. Daniel knows Armand has as much trouble sleeping after a fight as he does. “I'm going out. I'll be back soon.”

Part of him hopes Armand will get irritated enough at him wanting to go out without him that he'll open the door to bitch at him. Daniel knows in his gut that if he could just see Armand, just touch him, that he can make this right.

Armand doesn't open the door.

Daniel sighs; and presses his forehead to the door. He likes to imagine Armand on the other side, only the thin layer of wood between them. “I love you,” he says, “Not that you care, but I still love you.”

He'll always love Armand, regardless of their fights. Besides, their good times are great. It only makes sense that their bad times are hell. It balances.

Daniel decides what will make things better is a gift. If Armand was a girl, he could do flowers or jewelry or something simple. But Armand isn't a girl; he's a weirdo. Daniel loves that about him, but it makes gift giving difficult. So he goes to a department store and browses the kitchen appliance section. Armand loves kitchen appliances. There was a whole thing with blenders and another with microwaves. And Armand had liked the coffee machine he bought him that one time.

He decides on a toaster. He picks the fanciest one the store has and sets off for home.

Armand is still in their room when he returns.

Daniel knocks on the door gently. “Hey baby, you still mad?”

Silence.

Okay, so still mad. “I got you a present.”

More silence.

“It's a toaster.”

“...Why would I want a toaster?” Armand doesn't sound impressed.

“I don't know. You liked blenders and microwaves, so I thought kitchen appliances were good.” Daniel says, but he feels like he's failed some sort of test. “Okay, forget the toaster. What do you want? I'll do anything.”

Armand is quiet a long moment. “Anything?”

“Name it and I'll do it,” Daniel says. “You know I hate having you mad at me.”

The lock clicks and the door opens a crack. Daniel can see only part of Armand's face; he has indeed been crying if the red streaks on his cheeks are anything to go by. Shit, that makes Daniel feel like an asshole. “Hey, sweetheart. I miss you. Let me in?”

Armand steps back and lets the door fall open. Daniel steps inside and immediately wraps his arms around Armand. Armand wiggles free and walks back toward the bed. He sits on the edge and crosses his arms. “Did you mean it?”

Daniel had said a lot of things. He probably meant a lot if it, if he's being honest with himself. But he doesn't like to think about it too much. He loves Armand. Yeah, they have some problems, but what couple doesn't?

“What?”

“When you said I didn't love you.”

Oh. Oh. Daniel moves to Armand and cups his face. “No, baby, no. Of course not.”

Armand doesn't move, doesn't speak, just looks at him for a moment. “But you think I love you less than you love me.”

Daniel swipes his thumb over the dried blood streaked on Armand's face. “That doesn't matter. Someone always loves someone more.”

Armand pushes his hands away and curls unto his side, facing away from Daniel. “I'm going to sleep.”

Well, fuck. Daniel fucked that up.

“Can I sleep with you? I can't sleep without you.”

“Do what you want.”

Daniel has been doing this dance long enough to know when Armand tells him to do what he wants, what he really means is do what Armand wants. Only Armand isn't going to be helpful enough to tell Daniel what that is. Screw it. If Armand wants him to leave, he can use his words and say so.

Daniel crawls in beside Armand. He wants to touch him, to hold him, but he isn't sure Armand will let him. He scoots closer to Armand and drapes an arm over his waist. Armand doesn't exactly flinch, but it feels like he wanted to, then stopped himself.

“Is this okay?” Daniel whispers into Armand's hair. He misses Armand with an intensity that aches. He hates when they fight. “Armand?”

“I'm deciding.”

Daniel smiles at the imperious tone and plants a quick kiss on the nape of Armand's neck. “Take your time.”

“I'll allow it.”

He'll allow it. Goddamn drama queen. Daniel tries to hold back his smile. Everything about Armand makes him so fond. Holy hell, he loves him. “It's because how much I love you, you know.”

Armand stiffens just slightly, but Daniel presses on “It's big, so big it's scary. The way I love you...it's like I can't breathe without you. Like I need you to survive. I love you so much it hurts. You're everything. You're the fucking sun and I orbit around you.”

Armand takes a little breath and relaxes against Daniel, just a little. “That's why I think I love you more. No one can love someone as much as I love you. It isn't possible.”

Armand's hand joins his around his waist and he twines their fingers together. It doesn't mean they're done fighting, but it's a start. It's good enough for now.

(It has to be.)

[hecallsmehischild]

Okay guys it’s here. This is the house walkthrough. I didn’t show you the walkthrough we did a year ago ‘cause it was broken up into three parts and in the dreaded portrait phone format. This time we turned the phone sideways. But below the cut are all the fixes we’ve done so far in the year and a half we’ve been here, as well as the things that still need doing. We do what we can ourselves, but often we have to call professionals. This house was neglected for decades and everyone in the neighborhood seems to know it. I can’t tell you how excited I am about the progress we’ve made and the decor I’ve gotten to put up. We made this originally for Sergey’s family in Russia but I wanna share it with you guys too because, again, excited about all the progress. It looks like a HOME.

Long list of done/not done items or at least all the things Child can remember at the moment there’s probably more, so it goes under the cut.

Outside issues taken care of:

One dead tree and one dangerous leaning tree removed

Deck: rotted planks replaced, properly stained.

Rotted decorative gates removed

“Dog shed” bleached & power sprayed clean, it’s a proper storage shed now.

Water main shutoff replaced (previously unable to turn off the water main, afraid the valve would break)

Outside issues still to fix: 

One fence is collapsed in multiple places, needs replacing

Rip out all old fencing around the garden, remove old garden boxes

Get pumps working in both ponds

Replace bridge to front door: shows signs of decay

Under consideration: fence around whole property

First floor issues taken care of:

Removed 1 year supply of dental floss from the sink drains

Wiggly toilet properly bolted down.

Worst water-damaged baseboards replaced.

Fridge, oven, microwave, dishwasher, washer and dryer all replaced (the ones that came with the house were all on their last legs).

Fixed fridge water line, which actually gives us water and ice now.

Repainted, cleaned, and furnished the back bathroom with shower curtain, shower caddy, and fitting blinds.

Blinds for all windows in the TV room

Caulked dining room chimney to get rid of water seepage, fixed damaged wall interior, had wall fixed and repainted.

Replaced ceiling fan in the office.

Repainted almost every room

Put up shelves in the garage and organized “keep” junk, got the real junk hauled away.

Removed wood wine racks from closet under the stairs, swept out tons of mouse droppings, repainted the room, put up shelves. (thank you to Sergey’s mom, I could not handle the mouse droppings)

Replaced all light bulbs with LED lights.

Laid thin rug by front and back doors

Dusty’s art room: Formerly a junk dump room. Cleaned out, termite and damp rot damage torn out and replaced, shelves and desk and outlets and lights and small AC unit installed.

Garage doors both fixed. They open/close properly now.

Several broken doorknobs replaced.

Evicted termite nest by the Great Hall fireplace

First floor issues still to fix: 

Caulking gaps between baseboards and the floor in almost every room (in progress)

Great Hall fireplace needs three major fixes before it’s usable

Wall in the Great Hall is buckled from water damage, drywall needs repair/replacing.

Former dog-door needs to be patched (half done).

All sliding glass doors need to be replaced, they’re not properly sealed.

Install vent fan in the laundry room

Fix water damaged kitchen window framing

Stove vent needs fixing

Second floor issues taken care of:

Two super ugly bathrooms repainted (and in one case, stripped of wallpaper, replastered, and then repainted)

Temporary roof “patch” that had been left in place for years is now properly repaired

Very ugly spiral staircase repainted by hand.

GUTTERS INSTALLED. There were NONE when we came. On a Houston house. No gutters. Why.

Roof leaks fixed or caulked properly.

Wiggly toilet properly bolted down.

Roof extension built over biggest balcony, which prevents water from leaking down into Dusty’s art room (as was happening before). Gutters added on THAT too.

Broken house heater replaced.

Replaced a bunch of nasty rusted/molding vent plates

Caulked guest bathtub, as water was leaking through the ceiling of the bathroom directly below it. Issue fixed by caulking.

Second floor issues still to fix: 

Master bedroom needs ceiling replaced, soundproof walls/window, and reducting.

Whole house needs reducting.

Replace/install bathroom vent fans in two places.

Install another entrance to the attic so it has two points of entry.

Repair/repaint balconies and outside stairs.

Fix hot water pressure in guest bathroom

Fix “ugodly mess” of incorrect plumbing left to us

Replace all fire/carbon monoxide alarms

An enclosed patio room we have can’t be used until we install a drain in the floor and plumbing for a hose, so it can be sprayed clean.

Smokestack on the water heater is apparently a fire hazard that needs to be fixed.

[srprincess]

Fictober (day - who even knows? 8, 9 & 10? this one took a little bit)

Prompt 25 - “I could really eat something”

fandom - check please

The SpookydooAU continues, Chapter 5 now!

Will opened the door, leading his trespasser-turned-guest through to the mudroom.  

“Mind you stick to the mats, don’t drip all over my floors,” Ugh. When had he turned into his Ma, God rest her? He wasn't some shade of a house proud homebody, really.  It was only, well, the one thing worse than cleaning was all the messes that only got worse if you didn't keep up with it. He shook his head, who was he even trying to justify this to? Himself? He liked things just so, and it was his home. “Actually, leave the shoes here and follow me. I’ll find you something dry to wear.”

”You don't have to-”

Will looked pointedly down towards the, already growing, puddle at the guy’s feet. ”I really do.”

He took off his sopping wet sneakers and started to leave them beside the door on the wood before seeing Will’s look of near horror and moving them to the carpet runner with a nervous smile. ”Dry would be warmer, thanks. Lead the way.”

-

Will dug through his drawer chest looking for pair of sweats and a not too beat up t-shirt, grateful he had actually remembered to wash, dry and put away his clothes last week. For once. That was another one of those chores that always seemed to pile up. Pausing another moment to be grateful for Past Will, he pulled a pair of boxer briefs from a new package tucked away in the top drawer.

”Appreciate this. I’m Derek by the way, but you can call me Nursey. Everyone else does.”

”Nursey?” What was it with these guys and nicknames? He added a pair of socks to the clothing pile and handed it over.

”Yeah. Figured you should know my name since you're letting me into your pants and all.” Nursey said with a ridiculous wink.

”Oh. My. God.” He did not just day that. And that wink? Really?? ”That was awful! Is that what passes for a line these days?” Will heckled.

”’These days?’ Between that and the ’keep off my lawn’ act - What are you, geriatric?”

”Only on the inside.” If Nursey only knew the running commentary that had been going through Will’s head the last little while...maybe he aged a little earlier than scheduled. ”Still that line was bad, and you should feel bad.”

”Okay, so maybe not quite geriatric. Middle-aged?” Nurse shot back.

”I can and will take those back,” Will nodded down at the clothes, ”and put you back out on the porch.”

”Truce! Truce! Thanks for the clothes. And the shelter. Most of all for not running me off.  So...Should I change here, or....” Nursey trailed off looking for a bathroom or somewhere else private to change in.

Oh yeah, privacy was a thing, Will thought to himself belatedly. Just as well he didn't really have guests, he’d clearly forgotten how to be a normal host ages ago.

”Here’s fine, or there's a bathroom straight across the hall if you want to try and dry off or whatever first? I'm just going to go, and, you know, grab some shit.”

Nurse gave him questioning look.

”The pie? It's still up on the walk. Not much left, but I'll be damned before I let those birds get it in the morning.”

”You know, I could really eat something too...” Nurse hinted.

”Don’t push it, I’ll share my home and my clothes but I will not be sharing that pie.”

”But I could be in shock! I think you're supposed to feed a shocked person.”

”Other than your obvious confusion, thinking I would share even one bite, you don't have any of the symptoms. And treatment involves no food or water, so even if you were...”

”You got me. I'm not in shock, but I am kind of hungry. I skipped out on dinner to be here.”

”And that's my fault how exactly?” Will wasn't sure if he was impressed or annoyed at the absolute gall of this guy.  

Of course, Nursey chose that very moment to use his dripping pathetic condition to full advantage, even adding puppy dog eyes.

Damn those eyes.

”Fine. I'm not sharing the pie, but I might be able to dig a hot pocket or something out of the deep freeze for you.”

-

About 15 minutes later Nursey emerged from the bathroom, looking much more put together and, most importantly, dry.

Will had already hidden away the slice of pie for safe keeping and sat on a stool at the kitchen counter eating what remained in the tin. He handed Nursey a plastic sack to hold the wet clothes, and pointed to the microwave as it beeped, ”food.”

”Not pie, but much better than a hot pocket,” Nursey allowed as he smelled the plate of leftovers appreciatively. “I called and, as soon as he picks up Chowder and Farmer from the bar, Bitty will be here to pick me up. Hope I can leave before the ransom exchange? Doubt even he could get a pie made whole driving all over.”

“Sure, let him know I accept IOUs paid in the form of food quietly left on my doorstep. Now, tell the truth, is it just you lurking or should I expect some else to pop out from under my bed later tonight?” Will asked, only half joking.  

”None of us is going to, but word is this place is haunted as hell, so I can't speak for any ghosts.”

”Oh yeah, ooooh spooky ghosts, ” Will waved his hands around mockingly. ”I am so afraid.”

”Legends can't all be lies,” Nursey said with a shrug as he sat on the other stool and dug into the food with a moan. “Okay, keep the pie. I need so much more of this.”

Blushing at the praise, Will mumbled “It’s just a roast. Dump it all together and leave it cook.” In an attempt to take a little attention off him, he changed the subject by nudging the duffel he had run out to bring in with his toe. ”So, do you actually believe in all this or...”

”I guess you could say that I don't not believe in it?”

”Oh, well with those convictions I can see why you take time and travel all over to do it every year. And why you paid who knows how much for all the shit in there.”

”We didn't start for me, I'm just...along for the ride? Mostly?” Nurses looked down with a frown as the fork scraped his empty plate.

”So it’s for who exactly?” Will asked, as he went and warmed up the remainder of the potatoes from the fridge. See? He could host. He had manners. Sort of.

”Jack, mostly.”

”Jack? Really? The quiet guy with the notebook? He's the gung-ho ghost hunter?” Will was surprised, he seemed the mostly normal of the whole group. Not really a ringleader sort, at least that was what he’d thought anyway.

”Not exactly,” Nursey replied after thanking him for the refill of his plate. ”I’m not even sure he believes in ghosts actually.”

”Well, now you have to explain.”

”You’re going to think it’s weird-”

”You guys? Weird? Oh yeah. That ship has sailed. Hours ago. Can barely see it from here. Lost over the horizon. No lighthouse guiding it back-”

”Okay, okay I get it. Haha we’re weird. Do you want to mock me oooor,”

”I have to choose?”

Nurse glared, but explained anyway. ”So I say it's for Jack, because he's the reason we started. First couple years out of school we had regular meetups and whatnot, it was like we were still all together just with a little longer breaks in between, right? Then one year, there was this, uh, really big deal? That Jack wanted to close at work, yeah? And no matter how hard he worked toward it, he couldn't. Really sucked. Went to this big rival of his-”

”Rival?”

”Yeah, like, umm, they used to work together? But now they're kind of in opposite sides of the business. It's a thing. Anyway, ” Nursey hurried on with the story, cutting off the chance for further interruptions, ”Bitty could tell he was torn up about it - all of us could really - and so we wanted to distract him. Except, and I'll deny this if you tell him I said it, but his interests can be a little...boring. Gross nasty fishing. Country club shit I’d rather not do, like golf.  And most of all history. So much history. Boy could tour a fort for daaaaays.”

”History isn't so bad! S’long as I'm not the touree,”

”Is that even a word?”

”Shut up and finish your story, ” Will said with a light shove.

”If you're done interrupting,” Nursey paused, eyebrow raised, before continuing.  ”So we were all brainstorming ideas of what would be fun for our history nerd friend but not mind-numbingly dull for everyone else and it came to us - ghost hunting. All the history and research his heart could possibly desire about each haunted place along with the possibility of some excitement for the rest of us. And even when we don't find anything, we all have a little trip away together out of it. It’s always good to meet back up after a while apart. Everyone wins.”  

”Except the locals-”

”Most are happy! Some people actually like tourism, you know. Besides, you got a pie out of it, so-“

“Fair enough. I guess. So - if you're all such good friends, why did they ditch you out there when they left earlier?”

“Umm...That’s not really their fault. You see, I was supposed to wait in the car until Bitty and Jack got the go ahead. I just decided to sneak out and get a jump start before we lost the light.”

“Confident much? Did you really think I’d cave that easy? Not that anyone listened, but I had already said no earlier.”

”Honestly? It never even occurred to me that the pie bribe would fail. It hasn't yet. Literally never.”

”It is good, but...never? Really?”

”Seriously. Bitty has been getting into and out of things with his baking skills ever since I've known him. If you ask him, ever since he was tall enough to reach the oven controls.”

Will was grudgingly impressed on Bitty’s behalf. And, he admitted to himself, if he had tasted the pie before sending them away, it probably would have worked on him too. ”But when it did fail?”

”When they saw I wasn't in the back anymore, Bitty texted and asked if I wanted him and Jack to wait at the turn for me to walk out. Figured this might be my only chance and told them to go ahead -”

 A horn sounded from outside at the same time Nursey’s phone skittered across the counter with a vibrated alert.

”That’s me. He's trying to keep the others contained, so I better hurry. Thanks again.” Nursey made his way to the door.

”I’d say you're welcome, but I’d hate to encourage future deviance so I guess I'll just say- that wasn't as bad as I expected.” Will walked him out to the porch.

“Careful, Poindexter, you’ll give me a big head with all that praise.” Nursey called back on his way to the car.

”It’s Will!” he yelled, but the only reply was a wave out the window as they pulled away.

[fortisfiliae]

Against the Odds - Part 3 [James Potter x reader]

Prompt: College AU ❃ Jocks are disgusting. Too good looking, too aware of it, too drunk and too dumb. Or so you thought. This is the third part for @marvelcapsicle‘s writing challenge.

A/n:  Since tumblr doesn’t show posts with links in the tags anymore, you can find previous parts on my masterlist, linked in my bio.   If you need to zoom in on the texts just click on the picture to do so. GIF is not mine.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes, fluff and a curly devil that will hunt your dreams

Word count: 3.2k

Part 3 - You up?

Thursday:

Half past nine in the evening, you had just typed the last word of your essay for English class and had clicked on the save-symbol when Louise entered your room, along with her boyfriend Mike. He was a frat guy. Jockish as hell. Maybe one of the reasons you hadn’t liked those type of guys.

You weren't sure why they had decided to come to your and Louise’s room – it was certainly too small to miss anything the other person said or did and Louise had told you countless times how lucky Mike was to have a room for himself at the frat. 

Anyway, you weren't going to ask them because they had decided to watch a movie on Louise's laptop and after arguing for twenty minutes, had finally picked something out. 

You were on your phone, texting with Remus, who had just started telling you things about his personal life and that he would go to the cinema with Sirius in a bit when you suddenly heard suspicious huffing from across the room. You turned over and caught Louise and Mike kissing. Vigorously. Not only that, but things were moving underneath their blanket and it didn't look like they were folding their hands to pray.

“Guys,” you said. “You know I can hear and see you from here.”

No answer. They just ignored you.

“Louise! What the fuck are you doing?”

She tore herself away from her boyfriend and took a breath before answering: “Sorry, Y/N. But you must know, I've just gotten off my period and we haven't-”

“Oh my god. Shut up, please. You can't be serious. Why don't you-”

Before you could finish your sentence, her mouth was on his again and now it seemed that she was climbing onto him.

“Hello?”

They ignored you again and now you heard something unzipping.

“That's it,” you said as you got up. “I'm leaving. And fuck you both. Or don't. Whatever.”

You rushed out the room and stood in the hallway, already typing a text to Remus, trying to ask him if he could help you out. Wait. He was going out with Sirius. So that wasn't an option. Shit. You walked over to the common room and sat down on one of the mouldy couches. Looking across the area you stared at the microwave for a minute, contemplating if sleeping here was the only alternative you had. Oh please no. It was gross and cold and people would notice. There was someone else you knew. Not that you preferred that. But it was worth a try, wasn't it?

So, yeah. Awkward.  

Oh god. Stupid. No one would believe that. Was there a way to unsend texts?

Okay, okay. Okay! Keep calm. You took a deep breath, smelling even more of the gunk that had built up on the kitchen counter, and stood up. Everything was better than spending the night between the remnants of pizza and hot pockets. You caught yourself walking in circles and finally brought up the courage to leave the dorm.

It was chilly outside, but you enjoyed the cool breeze as you stood on the pavement and pressed the front of your shoe into the concrete until it hurt. A car turned up on the far end of the street. Blinding headlights came closer with the engine revving until it slowed down and stopped right in front of you. A black and sleek Audi whatever-model. Rich parents – what else had you expected?

Last chance to run back in. He could still be a serial killer, right? But he had brought you a sandwich yesterday. Were you really just using food as refutation?  

The window rolled down and James' curly head poked out. “You coming?”

Well, curly hair and a sub would do as refutation for tonight.

You got in, closed the door and belted up before you finally looked over.

“Hi,” you said hesitantly.

“Hey. So... Drama at the dorm?”

“Yeah. And I’m sorry. That I asked you for this, you know.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I was at the bar and wanted to go home anyway. Actually, I'm glad you did.”

He put in the gear, started driving and looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t. There was a tiny smile on his lips that could only make you guess what he was thinking before you put your eyes on the road.

“So um... Who’s your roommate then? Do I know her boyfriend?” James asked after a while.

“Her name’s Louise. Her boyfriend is Mike. Mike um, Broogler or something? A frat guy, I’m sure you know him.”

“Brockler, yeah I know him. A frat guy, huh?” he grinned.

“He is a guy and part of the fraternity. Frat guy.”

“The way you say it makes it sound like that’s something bad.”

He was obviously joking, the tone of his voice still light and cheery, but there could have been a bit of truth behind his words.

“I didn’t mean it that way. Sorry if I hurt your feelings,” you said. “Frat guy.”

He chuckled as he backed into a parking space in front of the fraternity. “Frat guy is saving your ass tonight, so a bit more respect please.”

“Sorry mister frat guy, sir. I apologize.”

You followed James into the house, which had all the lights off and was empty, contrary to your prior beliefs.

“Boys are all out at the bar. Except for Mike,” he quipped.

The house looked completely different than it had when you were at the party. Classy and strict, a lot of old dark wood embellished the floors and furniture.  You peeked into the living room and it was actually quite cosy without the beer pong table and blaring music.

James walked up to the wide staircase on the end of the hallway and turned around. “Rooms are upstairs.”

“Uh yeah, I figured.”

So there it was. The moment you had to tell him that you hadn’t intended the same thing he maybe had thought of. There was a nasty lump in your throat. How should you bring it up? Maybe he wasn’t even thinking about it and you would just burst in with the unasked-for info that you didn’t want to sleep with him tonight.

“Hey um,” James began. “Just so you know, I won’t try anything. I can sleep in the living room if you want.”

God bless.  

“Thanks,” you said and felt a wave of heat on your cheeks. Where has your confidence gone? Get a grip.  

“Okay, let me show you my room then,” James said and offered his hand.

He led you up to the first floor that had doors to the bedrooms all around. They all had the initials of their names on the doors. His one was the third in line. JP in gold with a little lightning bolt next to it.

You pointed at it and asked: “What does that stand for?”

“I’m fast,” he said and smiled smugly. “Everyone in the team gets a nickname.”

“And yours is Bolt?” you asked as he opened the door.

“Flash,” he winked. “Excuse the mess.”

James went to pick up a bunch of dirty clothes from the floor. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“No big deal, it’s not so bad.”

It really wasn’t so bad. The room was probably the same size as your shared one was, but with a private bathroom. The dream. His bed stood in the corner of the room - white sheets, very chic. On the opposite side was a sideboard with a medium sized TV on it, next to it was the door to the bathroom. His desk stood right by the window, a wardrobe to its left, a small fridge to its right. He’d hung lots of little photos of him and his friends and football fan articles on the walls. It was a bit messy, but it had character.

“Your room is really nice,” you said as you walked around and looked at the pictures.

“Thanks! Make yourself at home. I’m just putting the clothes away and I’m gonna take a shower real quick, I still smell like bar.”

“Sure.”

He closed the door to the bathroom behind himself and left you alone in his room. High level of trust. As you heard him turn on the water you walked over to the other side slowly, letting your fingers run over the sheets of the bed when you went by.

On the sideboard with the TV was his football helmet, freshly cleaned and shiny as a new penny. You noticed a small ball lying right beside it. The one he had gotten at the blood drive yesterday. It still had dents from his fingernails all over it. Looked like he had been more nervous than you’d thought. You smiled and dug your own finger into it, leaving one additional notch, before trying to switch on the TV. It would be nice to have some background sounds and avoid awkward silence later, but the remote was nowhere to be seen.

After looking at the sideboard, his desk and bed you went for the nightstand. Intrusive? Probably, but maybe it was in there.

You sat down on the bed and opened the drawer. No remote. But some other things. A small notebook and a nibbled off pen, as well as a framed picture of two people. They looked like husband and wife - both had grey hair, were probably in their seventies and smiled kindly into the camera. His grandparents? Well, since it was in there and not on the wall, he probably didn't want to talk about it.

You closed the drawer and swung your legs up onto the bed. Sitting, waiting, wishing. Wishing for confidence and poise and that your palms wouldn't start sweating every time James looked at you. Right now it felt like his whole room was staring you down. Like it was eating you up. But not in a bad way, it was a welcoming feeling to sit there and gaze over the bits and bobs of his belongings.

When you noticed that the water had stopped running you took out your phone to try and look like you hadn't been spying. A few moments later James returned in a plain white shirt and grey sweatpants. Quite the look on him admittedly. His hair was still wet, some drops of water running down the side of his face to his jawline and even further down to his chin. God damn, you couldn't take your eyes off him. He must have done this on purpose.

“You good here?” he asked as he ran his hand through the wet mess on his head.

“Uh-huh, I am. Was trying to find the remote, but didn't.”

“Oh um. I think I know where it is,” James said and threw himself onto the bed, half lying, half crawling and stuck his arm under the pillow. “There we go.”

He turned on the TV and switched channels for a while until he stopped on the news. The news?! You both sat in silence pretending to be interested in whatever the reporter was talking about. Note to self: There can be awkward silence even if you have background sound.

Trying to think of something to say turned out to be harder than you'd thought. What do you talk about with a guy that had taken you home because you had asked him to, while he lay next to you, smelling like a pinewood full of sunshine and fairies? The fact that there was an inch of skin showing between his shirt and pants wasn’t helping either.

“So-” - “Do you-”

After minutes of silence, you had both decided to start talking in the same second. Both of you laughed at your mutual awkwardness and James sat up straight.

“Sorry, what did you want to say?” he asked.

“Nothing really,” you admitted. “I was just... I don't know. Go on, please.”

He grinned like he was glad that you were more nervous than him. Looked like it gave him a confidence boost. As if he needed one.

“I wanted to say that I can give you clothes to sleep in. You didn’t bring anything in your handbag, did you?”

“No, I didn't really have time to pack when I was running from the fucking in my room. But it's fine, you don't -”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “You don't want to sleep in jeans. No one wants that.”

“Yeah, I guess I don't.”

He crawled off from the bed and walked over to the wardrobe. “I'm afraid I don't have anything sexy,” he joked. “But a frat shirt will do I think.”

He laid it down next to you before sitting on the bed again.

“Thanks, James. I'm gonna go change in the bathroom.”

“Sure. I put out a toothbrush too if you want to brush your teeth.”

What a mom.

The bathroom was small but still better than one on the hallway. You took off your clothes and put on the shirt James had given you. It looked huge on you. Dark red with the fraternity name Kappa Delta Rho on it, it reached almost down to your knees, like a really unflattering dress. It was soft and smelled nice though. Not like pine wood and fairies, but sweeter. Clean, fresh cotton with a hint of washed out cologne. 

The toothbrush he had been talking about laid next to the sink, still unpacked and new. Did a stock of dental hygiene products mean he had people here often?

After you were done in the bathroom you went back to James' room, where he was lying on his bed again, watching TV with one hand behind his head, the other one tucked into his waistband. This time, it seemed he couldn’t take his eyes off you. A dumbfounded expression on his face as you walked towards him and the way he eyed you up and down made you instantly feel better about yourself. There was your confidence boost and you had very much needed it.

He cleared his throat when you sat down on the bed. “Well. If you want to sleep now I can go downstairs and -”

“No,” you interrupted him, maybe a bit too eagerly.

“Sorry?”

“I… I think you can stay. If you want. I mean, it’s your room. That wouldn’t be fair, to invite myself over and send you down to sleep on the couch.”

“Oh.” He looked more confused now, his hand wandered to the back of his neck. “I mean yeah. I’m glad to stay if you want that.”

You smiled, lifted the blanket to crawl underneath it and lay down sideways to face him. “I think that’s what I want, yes.”

He got under the blanket as well and said: “We can watch a movie if you want.”

Half an hour into “Baby Driver”, you had caught James looking at you twice. But the only reason you caught him was that you had looked over as well. It was absurd really, how every move he made got your heart rate up to 180. Every time he breathed in deeply or stretched out his legs you thought he would reach over and hold your hand. And suddenly, after checking his phone, he did. You were so focused on coming off relaxed that you didn’t even grip it back. It must have felt like you were dead until you remembered that you weren’t. You held his palm tighter and felt his thumb running over the side of your index finger, which made your stomach tingle.

“James?” you asked.

“Yes?”

“You’re really nice. I mean really,” you said even though you didn’t know where those words were coming from. “You know at first I thought you were just this guy, screaming with a beer keg on his shoulder. And I thought you were cocky, which… You are when I think about it.”

He laughed lowly. “That started as a compliment and ended as an insult.”

“I know, sorry” you bantered. “But you’ve been a real gentleman, very sweet and respectful and I didn’t expect that. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, wearing a smile that showed he was really full of himself right then, but that didn’t matter because his face neared yours now.

A kiss so sweet, it would have literally swept you off your feet if you hadn’t been lying down already. His lips, soft and mellow, skimmed over your own and it felt like listening to music; easy and pleasant as you found your rhythm and moved to the imaginary beat. His damp hair tickled your forehead until a simple peck brought your song to an end and a foolish grin seemed to refine it.

“How does it feel?” he asked after some seconds of silence.

“What do you mean?”

“Being in a frat, wearing a frat-shirt, kissing a frat guy in his frat-bed?”

“Oh shut up,” you laughed pushed him off by his shoulder.

He countered and started tickling you, to which you started screaming, turned around and kicked his legs.

“Whoa, easy Rambo,” James chortled and held you tight.

“No mercy for a tickler,” you answered and let your hand rest on his arm. “You’re a fool, James. I like you.”

The next time you opened your eyes was when a ray of sunshine beamed right into your face. You tried to shift but couldn’t until you noticed that James’ arm was still around your waist and held onto you even in his sleep. His breaths were slow and deep, his skin soft on yours and you could have easily spent the rest of your day in this position.

That was until you took your phone from the nightstand and checked the time. 9:17! Shit. You had forgotten to set an alarm last night and your first class started at 10. You had to leave right now, or you wouldn’t make it on time. So you shuffled away from his grip, got up, put your clothes on and went out the door.

While on your way to the dorm you took the time to shoot James a message:

Feedback & comments are always highly appreciated. Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged :)

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[ive-got-99-problems]

In The Woods (Rocket x OC)

Max, the hunters, and the characters in the town, the rest belong to Marvel! <3

The art is also done by me.

------ Chapter 3, Into Town ------ Rocket grunted as he hopped onto the passenger seat of the old beaten up truck Max owned. He sat down with a sigh and pulled the door shut with a clang, jumping when Max tossed her backpack down at his feet.

"Hey, watch it," Rocket snapped as he lifted up his feet.

"Sorry," Max smiled before starting up the truck, the engine roaring to life as she put it into gear.

Rocket looked out the window as the trees started to pass by slowly, Max's cabin becoming smaller and smaller the farther they got.

"So you sure the humans will be alright with me just walkin around?" Rocket questioned as he looked up at her and scratched his throat.

Max sucked on her teeth, "Yeah, I was meaning to talk to you about that."

"Oh boy," Rocket mumbled as he turned to look out the window, the river that sat next to Max's cabin still following close by their side.

"There's a high chance that the guys who chased you will be in town, hunters like them always like to hang around the bars and strip clubs. Not to mention you're a walking and talking raccoon so everyone will be trying to talk to you and shit. So I was thinking that you can either stay in the truck or you can just chill in my backpack while I shop."

Rocket raised a brow, "You're serious?"

"Yeah, sorry dude."

He sighed, "So much for stretching my legs."

"You can always walk on all fours," she smirked.

"Hell no, ain't no way I'm doin that," he snapped, "So if I play stupid I'd be allowed in the shop?"

She nodded, "This is a tiny ass town in the country, Rocket, people here aren't as picky when it comes to animals in stores. Hell, the one day I saw a guy carrying his skunk around in his cart."

"What's a skunk?"

Max glanced over at him with a confused you, "You don't know what a skunk is, how?"

"Look, kid, I've been on this planet for about a year now and most of that year I've spent at the Avengers base. The only animal I know about is raccoons, dogs, and birds."

Max slammed on the breaks causing Rocket to hit the dashboard.

"Ow, what the hell-"

"You've been to the Avengers base!?" Max questioned, her eyes wide with shock.

Rocket grunted as he rubbed his head, wincing as he touched it, "Yeah, why does that-"

"You've met people like Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers-"

"Yeah, yeah, I've met all those idiots," Rocket grumbled as he waved his hand, "Don't see why they're so important."

"Wha-" Max shook her head in shock, "They saved the Earth from an alien invasion! They stopped a robot from taking over the world! How do you not find that important!?"

Rocket just scoffed, "Kid, my team and I saved the galaxy twice, saving one tiny little planet isn't a big deal."

"Saved the galaxy, how, from who!?"

"Oh, Jesus, just keep driving, I'll tell you about it later."

Max sighed and reluctantly started driving again.

Rocket crossed his arms and looked up at her after a moment of silence, "So, what's a skunk."

"Oh, right," Max said, her eyes glued to the road, "Um, a skunk is a fluffy animal that's black with a white stripe down the middle. They have this defense mechanism that when they're scared or trying to ward off predators they'll aim their butt at them and spray this nasty smell. My dog would always get sprayed by them, we had to stock up on tomato juice all the time."

"And why would someone keep that as a pet?"

She shrugged, "Because some people find them cute when they tame skunks they usually de-spray them."

"How?"

"Not sure, I've never been a skunk person."

Rocket scoffed, "Don't see why anyone would be, what was with the tomato juice?"

"That's how you get rid of the smell, normal shampoo doesn't work. We nicknamed our dog Tomato because of it, every time he saw a skunk he had to chase them, never learned his lesson."

"Uh-huh, and where's the dog now?"

"Don't know, disappeared the same day my dad did. I heard that both animals and people disappeared, pet owners would come home and there would just be a pile of ash on the floor. I think that may have happened to him."

Rocket looked at her, his one brow raised, so she could accept her dog being snapped out existence, but not her dad? Rocket found that to be a little odd but then again he thought all humans were odd so he may have just been biased.

"You shouldn't have to take any of your clothes off," Max said, "I can just tell people that you're a good boy and like dress up," she said with a grin.

Rocket winced, "Never call me that again."

Max turned her gaze to him, a devious smirk crossing her lips, "What, good boy? Who's my little good boy?" Max cooed in baby talk as she reached over and tried to rub his head.

"Stop it, don't make me bite you!" Rocket yelped as he pressed himself against the door, pushing her hand away. "Now keep your eyes on the road before you get us both killed!"

Max giggled, "I am, relax! I'm just playing around."

Rocket grumbled as he said back down, "Yeah, while drivin, real smart."

Max just grinned as she laid back against the seat, "We'll be there soon, do you want to stay in the truck or come with me?"

Rocket was silent for a moment, fears of those hunters being in the town running rapid in his mind. Maybe it was a bad idea he had come, either way, he'd be in danger. If he stayed in the truck it'd be easy for them to spot him and break in to get him, but if he went with Max they would spot him a lot easier, but then again Max would be the barrier between them and him.

"If you come with me you can pick out your own food," Max said, interrupting Rocket's thought process.

Rocket slowly nodded, "I guess I'll come with you."

-------------------

The truck halted to a stop once Max was satisfied with her parking spot, she leaned over and picked up her backpack, pulling out her wallet before shoving it into her pocket. Rocket's heart beat loudly against his chest, anxiety rising as he thought about the hunters. He watched in a daze as Max dumped out all of the candy wrappers, notebooks, and pencils from the backpack and into the backseat. She sat the backpack down in front of Rocket, she paused when she saw the worried look on his face.

"Rocket, you doing ok?" Max questioned, a look of concern on her face as she held open the backpack, "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"No, no, it's fine,"  Rocket quickly replied.

He slowly climbed into the backpack and made sure he was in a comfortable spot before Max zipped up the backpack up until only his arms, shoulders, and head shown. Max opened the truck door, it squealing as it swung open. Max jumped out of the truck before pulling on the backpack and slamming the door shut. Rocket pulled Max's curls away so he could see over her shoulder. The shop was surprisingly big for such a small town, a few people hung around the outside of the building, some smoking, some talking, and some begging for money.

"A lot of homeless around here," Max said under her breath, "The cities are too chaotic, people are scared and when they're scared, they become violent. Its the rich and the homeless they automatically go after, the homeless because they're easy and the rich, well you know why they'd go after them."

Rocket stayed quiet, he hadn't really thought about what the humans were going through. He mainly focused on his grieving and trying to survive. He heard some of the remaining Avengers discuss the tragedies the humans were facing but most of it went through one ear and out the other.

"Morning Max."

Rocket snapped out of his haze as a women spoke, he turned and saw a woman only a couple of years older than Max behind the counter. She leaned over it as she looked at her phone, not even bothering to look up as Max walked past.

"Hey Lesa, ever get a text back from Jeremy?"

The woman scoffed, "No, jackass refuses to talk to me, runs off if I so much as look at him."

Max smiled before shrugging, "Well there's always the next guy."

She just gave an affirmative grunt, her dull expression becoming shocked as she looked up from her phone and saw Rocket.

"Oh my god, you have a raccoon now?! And look at him, he's wearing a little scarf!" She cooed as she rushed over to Max. "What's his name?"

Max frowned, sensing Rocket's unease, "Oh, it's uh, Rocket, I just found this little guy one day and he seemed tame so I just kept him."

"Aw, he's such a cute little thing!"

Max's eyes widened as she brought her hand towards Rocket, she could hear a faint growl admit from the back of Rocket's throat which caused her to jump back.

"Oh, I'm sorry Lesa," she laughed nervously, "He's a little skittish, probably shouldn't pet him."

Lesa frowned, a look of confusion on her face, "But you just said-"

"Y'know it's getting late, I really need to get my groceries and head out," Max said before quickly grabbing a cart and pushing it down the aisle.

She sighed in relief as she went down the aisle, she could feel Rocket relax, just a little.

"Thanks," he mumbled, catching her off guard, "Didn't want that women's hands anywhere near me."

Max gave a small smile, "No problem, now, what would you like to eat? I usually get things like frozen pizzas, ramen noodles, soup, cereal, and sometimes those microwaved meals."

"Well, I don't really know anything about human food so just get whatever," he replied quietly, not wanting any more unwanted attention.

"Oh, alright, but if you see anything that you'd like to try just let me know. I got a little extra from the fish I caught when I pulled you out of the river so I have a little more to spend."

Rocket remained quiet as they went through aisle to aisle, his eyes roaming over all the food products and taking note of all that Max added to the chart. No one gave them any trouble, some just gave looks and whispers, some would come over and coo about how cute he was, and some just straight out ignored them. The ones that ignored them were Rocket's favorites, it took every bone in his body not to snap at those who stared and tell them to 'fuck off.'

Rocket sighed softly, hoping that Max would be done soon and they could head back to the cabin. That was when he saw a man, it was one of the men from the forest. His heart stopped and he felt like he was about to throw up, Rocket prayed to any god that existed that the man wouldn't see him. He slouched down and pushed Max's hair in front of him, trying to make sure the man didn't see him.

Max felt him move her hair and could feel his small body shaking, "Rocket, what's wrong?" She whispered, turning her head to the side to try and see him.

"We need to leave," he whispered back.

Max looked around the store and saw the man, his beard thick and curly, his hands rough and had dirt under his nails. He held basket that held beer, a small packet of ham, and a pair of pliers with some rope. Max tensed up and her heart nearly stopped when the man noticed her, she quickly looked away and began to push the cart, her heart pounding in her chest.

"That's a cute raccoon you got there."

She winced, "Yeah, uh, thanks."

"Never seen one with a scarf before."

"Yeah, he's one of a kind," she responded with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, I bet, kind of looks familiar. I've never really seen any brown raccoons with a scarf before, well, other then three days ago that is."

"Oh really, well a lot of crazy stuff has been happening lately, maybe there's a whole swarm of brown raccoons with scarves running through the area?"

The man remained quiet as he stared at Rocket, "How'd you come across this little fella?"

"Oh, I've had him for years, had him since he was a baby."

The man nodded, his eyes still locked on Rocket.

Max cleared her throat, turning her body so Rocket would be hidden behind her, "Well, it was very nice to meet you but I need to get going."

She could feel his eyes as she walked off, her body shaking as her heart bashed against her ribcage. She was quick to leave after the encounter, neither her or Rocket saying a word until they got back into the truck. Once in they both let out a sigh of relief, Rocket falling against the seat.

"Fuck, I nearly pissed myself when that dude started talking," Max muttered as she ran her hand through her hair, "You alright?"

He nodded, "I'll be a lot better when we get back to the cabin."

She sighed before putting the keys back into the ignition, "Yeah, me too."

[madstheghost]

I apologize in advance for this post, as it kind of cheers away from the types of subjects I generally prefer to flood my blog with. I just happen to be one of those people who feels infinitely better after they have typed out whatever is bothering them.

I am a disabled person, and due to earning less than 1k per month I have to rent. I know that one day I will be able to buy a house, but it just isn’t in the immediate future for me. The house I live in (the lease is up on June 26 and it is currently April 21) is owned by a property management. This means there is no sole landlord. Rather, it is overseen by a couple of office managers and the owner of the establishment. I have lived here since July of 2017 (it is 2019 now) and have yet to meet the actual owner of the property management, and at first this did not seem like an issue. During the initial viewing there did not appear to be an issue with the woman in charge of our property, we will call her Mila, and the property seemed to be in satisfactory condition.

Something you should know before progressing further in this story is that I was not a part of the initial viewing and I did not move in until weeks after my roommates did. They were both vulnerable a naive people, seeing as they were from overprotective families and had never lived away from home. However, their parents viewed the property and assured me all was well.

So I move in after they are already settled in and I start immediately noticing some issues. One of the windows had no screen, one of the glass panes on a window had a huge crack in it, and the front door did not appear to shut all the way, leaving a huge gap where you could easily break in. I brought this to Mia’s attention and she apologized and said she would sent maintenance right away. Well, a couple of months go by and nobody comes. The door issue had gotten worse, and on top of that half the electricity in the kitchen kept blinking off. It happened to be the half with the oven and the microwave, of course. Plus, when I tried to clean the stove the burners literally disintegrated in my hand. I called Mia again and asked for maintenance. They finally came, but were essentially useless. They would stay for about ten minutes while talking on their phones loudly, and leave when they felt like it, sometimes without even bothering to be sure their solution to our problems had worked.

By the end of our first six months of living here I had been forced to call for maintenance about ten times. It was at this point that a mass email to all tenants was sent, stating that the maintenance system was being “abused.” Well, I wouldn’t have had to “abuse” it if my house had been liveable.

This kind of nonsense became our normal and in February we were suddenly greeted by a document that stated we had to decide whether we would continue our lease or not. Our lease was not over until the end of June and they were going to increase our rent by quite a lot. We were essentially trapped there. Nothing was available nearby and all other landlords around us told us that nothing would open until the end of April or early May. So we had no way of knowing for sure whether we could find something or not. I have specific needs that need to be met in the house I live in, and my roommates could only live a certain distance from work or their benefits would be cut off.

We all decided that we were pretty stuck for another year, but that we would start searching for a new place the following spring. This is around the time everyone started voicing their upset about Mia.

I explained to them that I had been accused of abusing the maintenance system and that at another time I had brought it to her attention that the lease agreement clearly stated that if we wanted a dishwasher we could ask for one at the office and it would be delivered to us. We chose this house over another one because of this option. When I told Mia I was in need of one because my disability was making it too difficult to stand at the sink long enough, she told me it had been a “typo” and to just “go buy one” myself. I said I did not understand how an entire, clearly worded sentence, could be a typo and she never responded.

My roommates then informed me that she often used the same nasty tones in emails to them. Apparently she had also forced them to pay for bars to be put in the shower before I moved. Legally, she was not supposed to do this since it violated the ADA laws. She had also failed to ever conduct an inspection on the property. My roommates told me that she simply handed them a paper and told them to make a checklist of what was damaged before moving in. My roommates are not home owners and they were not aware of what kind of things they should be looking for. They said that in the photos of the property online the house looked nearly perfect, but when they actually moved there were dark urine stains on the wood floors and damaged windows. I told them that they should always complete a checklist before moving in and that they needed to bring this issue to the property management’s attention before they even put one piece of furniture inside. They told me they thought taking date stamped photos would be enough. I told them they share the blame for this one, but that Mia also took full advantage of their naivety.

The last straw that caused me to want to run out of here was in December. The hot water heater basically stopped working. I had maintenance come and one man came. Let’s call him Bill. Bill told me that he had a feeling something had been wrong with it because the downstairs neighbor had experienced multiple leaks through her ceiling. I asked why it was not looked into and Bill said Mia had said it must have been because I wasn’t paying enough attention to my washing machine. He had explained to her that the washing machine wasn’t even in the same room as the leak downstairs, but she brushed him off.

When Bill called Mia to ask where the hot water heater was he put her on speaker phone so he could hear while while he worked. Mia has a very nasty tone to her voice and repeatedly told him that I should know where it is and that she had no clue. She already sounded annoyed. It was not my responsibility to know where it was since I don’t own the house. He argued with her that she should have paperwork on the house as well as a layout to consult. In the end we had to find it ourselves. Once the hot water heater was located, Bill was horrified. He said that it was so incredibly rusted through and damaged that he didn’t know how it hadn’t bursted and hurt us yet. He immediately got back on the phone with Mia and the conversation went as follows.

Bill: Hey, I’m at the *bleep* residence and the hot water heater is in really bad shape. I need to go get a new one.

Mia: Well, go get one next week because those aren’t cheap.

Bill: I can’t wait, I have to go today, like right now. It’s a danger to the person here.

Mia: She must have done something to it then because I have no record of it being damaged.

Bill: She can’t have damaged it. This is at least ten year’s worth of damage and it’s going to burst. I need to get a new one now.

I didn’t catch the rest but Mia basically kept insisting that I must have damaged the hot water heater, even though the damage had obviously been caused by rust. Bill stormed off to buy a new one and installed it for me within an house. Bill informed me that this was not the first time Mia had spoken badly about me and that he thought it might be because I cost her a lot of money. I said I wouldn’t have cost her any money had she actually made sure the house was ready for new tenants, and Bill agreed.

Fast forward to recent days. We informed Mia that we all planned to leave the property as soon as our lease was over this year. As soon as she found out she started causing more problems than ever. She sent us a document that stated in large letters that we must only send the document back if one or more tenants planned to remain at the residence. She even sent all of us an email repeating this. About three weeks ago she planned a showing of our unit for a potential new tenant. I called and informed her that I had cats and that they were runners so I needed to know whether she wanted me to take them to my new house or lock them in one of the bedrooms. She told me in an email and again over the phone that it was perfectly acceptable to keep them in the spare room.

Long story short, she never showed up for that showing. I asked what happened and she tried to claim that no showing had been scheduled because she had no idea whether or not we planned to stay. I said that we did not and she told me that we needed to send back the document that stated we no longer planned to stay. I informed her that we never received such a document, and at that point she stopped responding.

About two days later she schedule another showing for 10:00am. I spent the whole night making sure the apartment was in satisfactory condition and at about 9:45 I locked the cats in the spare room. Well, 10:00 came and went and there was no sign of Mia. Then it got to 10:20, still no Mia, and by this point the potential tenant had been standing around in the yard for about fifteen minutes. It got all the way to almost 11:00 and my roommate said he had to get ready to go to work and to let him know if Mia showed up. Of course, as soon as he started getting dressed she arrived.

Mia knocked and before allowing her in I had a small conversation with her.

Me: Hi! I have the cats in the small bedroom. If you want I can show you photos I have of the room with or without furniture, and if they want to see it in person just let me go in first so I can hold the cats back.

Mia: Oh, that is no problem, don’t worry about it. We won’t need that.

Me: My roommate is also getting ready for work, but if you wait about two minutes you can see his room, too.

Mia: No, it’s fine.

She then rushed the potential tenant through the house in about two minutes before returning to me.

Me: Are you sure you don’t want to see those two rooms? I can really let you see the room the cats are in and my roommate is almost done.

Mia: No, it’s really fine. So when is your lease up?

Me: End of June.

Potential Tenant: *looking at Mia in surprise*

Mia: Oh.

She then left the house while announcing that there would likely be another showing later that week.

My roommate came out of his room and we had a conversation about how weird the showing had been. He suspected that she was rushing because she knew the house was not in good condition since she didn’t want to repair anything, and because she had likely told the potential tenant the wrong move in date.

Friday arrived and there was no word of another showing so I figured she was just off fixing her mistakes.

Nope.

We are suddenly bombarded by an aggressively worded email by the owner of the property management. He stated that Mia had informed him that the residence had a foul odor, that there were dirty dishes piled up all over the kitchen, and that we REFUSED to allow Mia entry into two of the bedrooms.

I subsequently had a panic attack before hitting the roof. I had cleaned the entire house from floor to ceiling myself, and every room had at least two Glade plugins. Sorry you hate the scent of clean so much. There were not piles of dishes in the kitchen. I had run out of dish soap unexpectedly (this type of thing happens when you live with other people) and I can’t drive since I have seizures. So the dishes from only the previous day were soaking in the sink. There were three plates, a couple of pans, and two cups all soaking in soapy water. And don’t even get me started on us not allowing her access to two of the rooms. My roommate even backed me up and said he heard me offer to allow them to see the rooms multiple times and that Mia had shot all of them down. Her lies have caused the owner to threaten us with early eviction. He is coming to view the property next Monday and if he does not think it is perfect he is kicking us out. Our greater fear is that she will have shown him the same years old photos that she showed my roommates before we moved in and that she will blame us for all the stains on the floors and busted stove top.

My roommates were at a loss, but I have a plan. I refuse to be bullied like this. I will allow the owner to view the property. If he has an issue with it, I plan to give him the list (with evidence) of everything Mia has done to us since we moved in. I will then explain that if they wish to continue to harass us we have no problem with taking them to court for repeatedly breaking their end of the lease.

Please learn from us and be kind with whatever you say. We are human being who make mistakes and are constantly learning new things every day. What May be common sense to one person may be brand new information to another. Just learn from everything we have been through and be safe out there.

[softpink]

A Year on Spotify: 2017

100. Fat Lip - Sum 41 - I can’t believe this song invented music.

It’s none of your concern, I guess I’ll never learn I’m sick of being told to wait my turn

99. Energy - Drake - I love being part white.  This was a go to gym song when I was in a bad mood, which was A LOT over the summer.

I got girls in real life trying to fuck up my day, fuck going online that ain’t part of my day

98. Bad Girls - M.I.A. - Erin and I always listen to this song while driving anywhere together, even though we are the two least bad people I know.

Live fast, die young, bad girls do it well

97. Nerve - The Story So Far - You know, I used to always complain about how the self titled was their worst album.  In the past year, I have found that I actually like this album better than What You Don’t See. You set your pace, I’ll keep mine too

96. Seventy Times Seven - Brand New - Too bad Jesse Lacey is a TRASH CAN and Brand New is CANCELLED.  I’ve honestly just stopped listening to Brand New near the end of 2017.  Too many of the song (Maradona, Sudden Death, Sic Transit Gloria, etc) made me TOO uncomfortable. This song is still better than There’s No “I” In Team tho Have another drink and drive yourself home, I hope there’s ice on all the roads And you can think of me when you forget your seatbelt, and again when your head goes through the windshield

95. Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac - This song STILL slaps.  I’ve never cheated on someone, I’ve never been cheated on, but damn this entire makes feel like I’ve done both of those thing excessively.

Loving you isn’t the right thing to do How can I ever change things that I feel?

94. There, There - The Wonder Years - This is my PEAK anxiety song.  I’ve never had a song that encapsulates what my specific anxieties feel like so well.

I’ve got my heart strung up on clothing lines through tenement windows in mid-July

93. Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift - This song is so GOOD. Have you ever been hooking up with someone in secret? Ever had to end things with someone when you didn’t want to? Ever only have fond memories of someone? This is the song for YOU.  I remember listening to this song a lot freshman year of college in the fall, how long ago that seems.

Say you’ll remember me, standing in a nice dress staring at the sunset babe Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your wildest dreams

92. Goodmorning - Bleachers - I am pretty sure I dream about Mike more than anyone in my friend group.  I will have these intense, real dreams where I can feel him.  I will have hazy, abstract dreams where maybe I can’t see him, but I wake up and I know he’s there.  I have nightmares about the accident.  I have dreams that are just a movie reel of our old memories.  Sometimes it’s wonderful, getting visited by him, but sometimes it can almost be debilitating.  This song captures that feeling perfectly.

Woke up, I’m in the inbetween, honey One foot out and I know the weight is coming, because I left it by the bed last night Open my eyes, and I stare and pray for light Always one foot out when you say goodbye to the one that you love, one dream away from the  ones above That’s such a rhythm in my life these days, so I hold on tight and I learn to behave

91. Using - Sorority Noise - Not gonna kill myself 2k17

I stopped wishing I was dead, learned to love myself before anyone else

90. Bugatti (Remix) - Ace Hood - This is a defining song of my friendship with Will.

I’mma say this, fuck it I’ll say it: if you got good pussy you should always have your rent paid

89. Falling In Love Again - Joyce Manor - I remember when I had my first time with Michael, this song was stuck in my head.  I remember his sports themed wallpaper border in his old bedroom.  I remember looking at the streetlights reflecting off of his window pane.  I remember total bliss.  I remember his soft kisses, how held me so close afterwards.

I think you’re funny, I like your friends, I like the way the treat you I’ve got some money that we could spend, not that you’re like that I’m falling in love again I’m falling in love again

88. Nasty Habits - You Me At Six - I miss old YMAS. I wish Night People wasn’t wannabe Black Keys junk.

I’ve got you breathing all heavy and deep, gasping for air and down on your knees You’re in love for only as long as you want to

87. Shimmer - Moose Blood - I remember sending this to Molly, I want to send her my deepest apologies.  This song is so sad, I’m glad it doesn’t apply to my life anymore.

It’s been awhile since I saw you You don’t look the same, you taste different too

86. Run Away With Me - Carly Rae Jepsen - This was the first song we listened to on the DC roadtrip.  That was one of the best weekends of my life, I can’t wait for all the places Maddy, Will, and I go in the future.

Oh baby, take me to the feeling I’ll be your sinner in secret When the lights go out, run away with me

85. Something Right - Microwave - This song makes me irrationally sad?

Last night you told me you were pregnant My throat collapsed, I couldn’t breathe You said there’s a little man inside you, who looks a little bit like me

84. Reckless Love - Bleachers - I love having to come to terms with emotional and sexual abuse! People fucking suck!

So give me a chance to remember, what I’ve given up to defend you I have burned my dreams away, to stand in the broken shadows of your reckless love

83. You Tore Out My Heart - Tiny Little Houses - I remember listening to this a lot in August.  August was a hard month.

I’m so tired of being afraid, and I’m so sick of wasting away And there’s no truth in whatever you say You tore my heart out again and again

82. The Let Down - Seaway - This is their best song

Oh it’s all the same, if you feel the same we’ll never change

81. Meet Me In the Hallway - Harry Styles - THIS! ALBUM! DESERVED! MORE! It’s so good.  It’s the best thing anyone post split has put out.  I listened to this album non stop when it came out.  This song sounds like a dream I’ve had in the past.  This song sounds like hoping for that late night text, this song sounds like longing.

We don’t talk about it, it’s something we don’t do Because once you go without it, nothing else will do

80. Closer - Chainsmokers - I know everyone hates this song but I like this song whoops

Four years no call, now I’m looking pretty in a hotel bar

79. Local Man Ruins Everything - The Wonder Years - This song has gotten me through every single rough patch in my life.  Anytime that I’ve needed to move on from something in life, this is THE song.

I don’t have roses in the closet, but I’ve got pictures in a drawer It’s everything left in me not to stare at them anymore

78. I Think I You Were In My Profile Picture Once - Modern Baseball - This song used to remind me vaguely of Scott way back in the day, but now it is purely a Mike song.  I remember laying in my bedroom with all the lights off after the funeral and just listening to this song. It’s funny how drastically things can change.

Covered in bottles with the stench of a loss of life And I know that it’s quite heartbreaking we won’t speak like this again

77. Blissth - Sorority Noise - Emotional trauma: the song

You’ll always be like a nightmare to me, and I’ll always be begging for sleep

76. Don’t Take the Money - Bleachers - Do you ever have a song that just makes you feel alive? This is that song.

You steal the air out of my lungs, you make me feel it

75. 10 Bands - Drake - This is the best song off of If You’re Reading This… This is THE Drake song to listen to while driving in rain at night when you’re pissed off.  I can’t tell you how many times this summer I would drive around blasting this song being pissed off.  Also, my favorite lyric to this song? Iconic.

My ex asked me “where you moving?” I said onto better things

74. I Wish You Would - Taylor Swift - I don’t remember listening to this that much this year? This was a genuine surprise to see.  I DID listen to this a lot in the early fall of 2015, when things were in a weird place with Scott.  Once again, that feels so long ago geez.  I remember feeling like this song was all I was ever going to feel like.  Thank God for moving on, Thank God for change.

It’s 2 A.M. in your car, you pass my street, the memories start You say it’s in the past, you drive straight ahead You’re thinking that I hate you now because you still don’t know what I never said I wish you would come back, wish I never hung up the phone like I did I wish you knew that, I’ll never forget you as long I live

73. 505 - Arctic Monkeys - Has a song ever given you anxiety, made you sad, and made you want to get laid all at the same time?

But I crumble completely when you cry, it seems like once again you have to greet me with goodbye

72. Chicago Is So Two Years Ago - Fall Out Boy - This song makes me want to punch every person who has ever wronged me DIRECTLY in the face. You want apologies? Girl you might hold your breath until your breathing stops, forever The only thing you’ll get is this curse on your lips, I hope they taste of me forever

71. Out of the Woods - Taylor Swift - I love Bleachers.  Anyway, I love to listen to this song while driving by myself late at night, it’s a very surreal feeling.

Looking at it now, last December We were built to fall apart, then fall back together

70. Dakota - A Rocket to the Moon - If Molly or Bethany is in the car, this song is never skipped.  I miss power pop.

I know that she barely knows me, and I’m fake in love with her It’s like I’m singing karaoke, and I forgot the second verse, but I can make up my own words

69. Harvard - Diet Cig - Remember when my ex, who I hadn’t spoken to in YEARS decided to send me a long ass message apologizing for shit that I no longer desired an apology for? Remember when this happened in a fucking Denny’s? Remember when at the end of the message, he somehow managed to make it all about himself and his annoying ass liberal arts school in the woods of Vermont? 2017 was the year of people not being able to Leave Me Alone.

Does it feel better in your ivy league sweater? Put your work shoes on, and talk about her at your shitty job. Does it feel better in that cold Boston weather? Fuck your ivy league sweater, you know I was better.

68. Corrigan - Sorority Noise - I remember listening to this song while driving to the job I hated.  This song has nothing to do with working a dead end desk job, but I always seem to associate it with that?

I will never be the one you need I only hope to be the solid ground beneath your feet I will never be the turning of your leaves I only hope to be the one you call when you can’t sleep

67. Fall Into These Arms - New Politics - This was also a surprise, I don’t remember listening to this a lot this year.  It is on a lot of my playlists because it’s catchy af, so that must be why it made the list.  I remember listening to this in fall of 2015 (honestly, what WASN’T I listening to a lot in fall of 2015) while feeling like I was drowning in poor choices.

Fall into these arms, and spend the night with a stranger like me

66. Style - Ryan Adams - This song is HOT. Also my favorite line really resonates with me. This has been in my top 100 since 2015 when this came out, it’s SO good.

You’ve got that long brown hair thing that I like You’ve got that good girl faith and ass so tight

65. Right Back At It Again - A Day To Remember - Wow I love being emo? This song always reminds me of the Cheektowaga gang.

So here I am, right back at it again, just like I always said

64. Pretense - Knuckle Puck - There are about five KP songs total that I enjoy, but this song SLAPS. This was another song that I would listen to a lot in August of this year.

Consider this the repercussion of the actions you were never properly punished for Due to an overbearing demeanor brought on by your own self awareness Your credibility is a half empty glass of salt water that I watched you spill over and over and over again Go ahead, make me the bad guy

63. Grapefruit - Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties - This is THE SADDEST SONG TO EVER BE WRITTEN.  I listened to this whole album a lot throughout this year, it’s such a good depression album.

In all my dreams, I’m in the house that I grew up in I’m trying to be half the man I know my dad is, or was I see me as a father, looking over a daughter Who grew up to be just like you, and now It’s just a thread I can’t hold onto It’s just an open wound

62. HUMBLE. - Kendrick Lamar - This was a go to gym song for the first half of the year, but honestly by the second half of the year I was way more into DNA.

Girl, I can buy your ass the world with my paystub

61. Doses & Mimosas - Cherub - Lol @ the time I went to a RAVE in 2017.  As someone who has never done drugs and doesn’t plan to, I don’t think I will be going to a rave ever again.  I did watch someone do cocaine right next to me in the middle of Town Ballroom.  Shit was wild.  Anyway, Cherub sucked live but I still love this song?

To all the bitch ass hoes who hate me the most, I hate you too

60. Your Graduation - Modern Baseball - This is another one of those songs that I thought I would be stuck living for the rest of my life.  I remember listening to this song on a constant loop for MONTHS my junior year of high school.  I remember making Scott listen to this when we were both very drunk, and for the first time in his life he actually APOLOGIZED to me.  NOW, fast forward to 2017 this is just a song that I like to jam out to.  I love positive growth, I hope I have even more of it in the coming year.

You weren’t the only one who thought of us that way I spend most nights awake, wide awake I never thought that I, that I would see the day Where I just let you go, let you walk away

59. Hands On Me - Ariana Grande - I’m gay

Skirt off, keep the high heels on

58. You Are In Love - Taylor Swift - The first time I heard this song, I cried so hard. It is truly Michael and I in a song. It’s so perfectly us.  It’s so beautiful.  Every single word in this song resonates with the both of us so much. I remember laying in his bed with him late at night, and he just held me while we listened to this song together.  I’m so corny, I love my boyfriend so much.

Morning, his place.  Burnt toast, Sunday. You keep his shirt, he keeps his word. And for once you let go of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much, but it said enough. You kiss on sidewalks, you fight, and you talk One night he wakes, strange look on his face Pauses and says “you’re my best friend” And you knew what it was, he is in love

57. I’m The Best - Nicki Minaj - Whenever I want to drop out of school, I think about how disappointed Nicki would be, and I keep chugging along.

To all my bad bitches, I can see your halo

56. The Downfall Of Us All - A Day To Remember - It’s 2017 and this song still slaps

Duh duh duh duh duhduhduhduh duh duh duh duhduhduhduh 55. We All Float Down Here - Four Year Strong - It’s 2017 and this song ALSO still slaps.  I regret not going to their 10 year tour this past year, smh.

Too bad you never did have the guts to know where your heart should go

54. Septemberism - Man Overboard - This is song is the face of the early 10’s pop punk movement.  This the best pop punk song that will ever be written.  I only own Man Overboard merch. I remember feeling the floor buckle underneath us at Webster when they played this on the farewell tour.

I hate you, you should have picked up the phone tonight

53. If It Means A Lot To You - A Day To Remember - WOW I LOVE BEING EMO.  Remember when Molly and I were both crying to this song during their set and NO ONE noticed?

I swear I’ll never be happy again, and don’t you dare say we can just be friends

52. She’s Out Of Her Mind - Blink-182 - California is a bad album, but this is a great song.  It always reminds me of my sister, I can’t wait till she moves back to Buffalo.  It’s not the same without her around.

She’s got a black shirt, black skirt, and Bauhaus stuck in her head.

51. Out Of The Woods - Ryan Adams - This is better than the Taylor version, and the Taylor version is one of my all time favorite songs.  This songs sounds so different than the original.  It sounds so hopeless and SAD.

Two paper airplanes, flying, flying…..

50. Second Letter From St. Julien - Sorority Noise - While on the drive to the Sorority Noise concert: “Hey Maddy, what if they open with Second Letter?” “Nah they wouldn’t do that.” As you can imagine, that is exactly what happened.

And if you’re with God, am I making you proud by waking up each day?

49. The Waterboy Returns - Modern Baseball - For reasons unknown, I would always listen to this while driving to school this semester.  I can’t tell you why.  This song is a Mike song, so I was rolling up to 8 AM nursing lab in tears lmao.

It’s been a lifetime since we spoke last, I have a thousand things to say

48. Appointments - Julien Baker - This song makes me feel like I’m drowning, but in the best way.  The entire album was my favorite of 2017 and I am sure that every song will be in my most played of 2018.  She’s just too good.

Nothing turns out like I pictured it, maybe the emptiness is just a lesson in canvases

47. St. Joe Keep Us Safe - Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties - As a born and raised Catholic who is very close with their parents, this song makes me an unmeasurable amount of sad

I’m sorry Aaron, I know this year has been hard. If you’re hurt then you’re hurt, no I won’t make it worse, I’m always in your corner

46. Too Good - Drake - This is one of two good songs of Views.  

You’ve got somebody other than me Don’t play the victim when you’re with him

45. Feeling This - Blink-182 - This song makes me feel very sad, and brings me back to the summer when I was sixteen, depressed, and making terrible life choices

Fate fell short this time, your smile fades in the summer

44. Sundress - Tiny Moving Parts - This song reminds me of Robin and The Boys Cabin Trip 2017.  It was SO much fun this year.  It was a weekend of absolute fucking around.  We swam in the lake, we kayaked, we shot off BB guns, we cooked meals together and just bonded. Making jungle juice, playing pong in the yard, shooting off fireworks, popping champagne and getting Owen a graduation cake, doing shots of expensive tequila. Ben spending the night wrapped around the toilet, cleaning up plastic cups while everyone was still asleep in the morning because I was only one awake early in the morning.  Doing the Tops bottle return of shame, with a cart full of rattling bottles and cans.  I loved every second of that weekend.  I love that I’m still close with my high school friends, I love that I can still call them some of my best friends in life even if we don’t see each other too often.

Grab my hand let’s dance, like we used to in high school These are the golden years, let’s spend them holding beers One hand on the can, one hand in your hand, that’s my idea of romance I love you, at least I used to

43. From the Dining Table - Harry Styles - Wow I miss Haylor. This song is sad, like most songs I listen to, go figure.

Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too Even my phone misses your call, by the way

42. Back to Back - Drake - Look, this summer was a whole bunch of bullshit and I’m glad it’s behind me

Trigger fingers turn to twitter fingers

41. Break Your Heart Right Back - Ariana Grande - This is an UNDERRATED Ariana song. It’s catch af, this was also a go to gym song this year.

I should have saw it coming, I should have saw the signs But I wanted to believe you, just you, you said you wouldn’t lie

40. Fourth of July - Fall Out Boy - All of my favorite FOB songs are written about Mikey Way

I wish I’d known how much you loved me, I wish I cared enough to know I’m sorry every song’s about you The torture of small talk with someone you used to love

39. Your Best Friend - Seaway - I lied, this is Seaway’s best song.  A great song for when you’re annoyed with people who you don’t want in your life anymore.

I hate when you whisper to me that you think you should be the one who could be taking me home Because you’ve got problems, and I never asked to solve them

38. Forever - Drake - I LOVE BASKETBALL

LIKE A SPRAINED ANKLE, BOY I AIN’T NOTHING TO PLAY WITH

37. Touch It - Ariana Grande - This concert with Maddy was an out of body experience honestly.  It was SO MUCH FUN.  This also started our tradition of post concert Jim’s.  This was one of the best days of 2017.

Remind me why we’re taking a break, it’s obviously insane Because we both know what we want, so why don’t we fall in love?

36. It’s Okay - Pentimento - Personal growth: the song

And it haunts me, every single world you said But I never thought I’d say this….it’s okay

35. The Place That You Love - Have Mercy - Being lied to sucks, I listened to this song a lot when all of that shit hit the fan.

So why’d you do it? Why are you selfish? Why can’t I trust you anymore? Where’s the sorry? No pity party, when you come and knock on my door

34. Moonlight - Ariana Grande - Dangerous Woman is a pop masterpiece, also I love my mans

He’s so bossy, he makes me dance Trying to sit in the back of his whip and just cancel my plans Sweet like candy, but he’s such a man

33. Cool - Gwen Stefani - Fun fact: The first time I realized I was attracted to women was when I watched this music video! Also this song is the ULTIMATE at peace with your ex song, and I am really happy to say that I believe I’ve reached that level of zen in my life

And I’ll be happy for you, if you can be happy for me Circles and triangles, and now we’re hanging out with your new girlfriend So far from where we’ve been, I know we’re cool

32. Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift - This is honestly the worst song off of Reputation, but I was just very excited when she released new music so I listened to it a whole bunch regardless

Maybe I got mine but you’ll all get yours

31. Heart Out - The 1975 - This song reminds me of the couple months between when Michael and I met, and when we actually started dating.  Specifically reminds me of the night of The Wonder Years show, March 5th 2016.  I remember him having his arm around me in Town Ballroom and feeling like everything was right in the world.

You’ve got something to say, why don’t you say it outloud? Instead of living in your head

30. Your Deep Rest - The Hotelier - This is one of my all time favorite songs.  This song punches me in the goddamn face every time I hear it

Your lack of love for your dearself is sapping all of us here out Trace your roots back to the ground, work out the problem for yourself

29. Thinking About You - Ariana Grande - I cried during this song at the concert.  This song is about masturbating.

Had me arching my back, had my eyes rolling back Now you love me so good, I wish you would hurry up and come back

28. Me vs.The Highway - The Wonder Years - Remember when they only played this at the Buffalo date? I almost blacked out, I was so excited.

I remember me at eighteen Naked in your parent’s basement, young and careless, watching you blow smoke rings

27. Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper - That Park & Rec scene with April and Ann singing this? Yep.

If you’re lost you can look and you will find me, time after time

26. Solo - The Story So Far - This is the best song off of the self titled don’t @ me

I wish you’d just call, and we could hash it out I could tell you what I’m so mad about

25. Disappeared - Sorority Noise - No song has ever explained long term grief like this one

I let my hair down today, and I took a shower for the first time in what felt like weeks

24. Happy Birthday - Tiny Moving Parts - I don’t smoke weed, but this song definitely makes me feel like I do

Getting stoned in the back of a car, you have no idea where you are But you’re satisfied with life, and you don’t think twice of it

23. New Scream - Turnover - I’m really glad I’m finally in a field of study that I feel confident and happy in.  When I was in the transition between Fredonia and nursing school, I was stressed out and sad. I felt so lost, and I would listen to this song all of the time for that year of my life.

Adolescent dreams gave to adult screams Paranoid that I won’t have all the things they say I need

22. Better Man - Little Big Town - I can’t believe Taylor Swift wrote one of her all time best songs and GAVE THAT SHIT AWAY!!!

You’re jealousy, I can hear it now.  You’re talking down to me, like I’ll always be around You push my love away like it’s some kind of loaded gun, boy you never thought I’d run Sometimes in the middle of the night, I can feel you again But I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man

21. 6 God - Drake - Another go to gym song AND driving around while in a bad mood song.  This was Drake’s last good album smh

And just like every single other thing in my life, you can have her when I’m finished

20. Die For You - The Weekend - Do you really get in a fight with your partner if you don’t listen to this song?

Even though we’re going through it, and it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you

19. Humming - Turnover - Molly told me to listen to this song when Michael and I started dating, because in her words “it’s the ultimate lovers song.” and holy fuck, she was right.

Show me why you’re always smiling, laugh again and make me fall in love

18. Settle Down - The 1975 - This is the best song off of the self titled, no question

You’re cold and I burn, I guess I’ll never learn

17. Wild Heart - Bleachers - Strange Desire as a whole is a very important album to me.  It really got me through Mike’s death, and continues to to do this day

Now everything has changed, and it’s only you that matters I will find anyway to your wild heart

16. IV. Sweatpants - Childish Gambino - I think I listened to this every single day in the month of August, holy shit.

You’re faker than some sweet and low

15. Our Apartment - Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties - I remember being SUPER SICK at this concert, and Michael took care of me so well the whole time. I love my peach so much oh my God.

I found enough of your hairpins to build you a monument, a statue to loneliness

14. I’m Serious, I’m Sorry - Jeff Rosenstock - The lyric I’m about to share is my autobiography and I’m going to get the entire thing tattooed down my ribs like the Jasey Rae girl. I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve screamed this bridge in my car while driving by myself down the 990.

Were you supposed to not go to college? Stay in your mom’s house on the computer Googling grief cures, talking to no one Waiting for life to start feeling better Waiting for pain to not be a constant

13. A Change Of Heart - The 1975 - Such a good “I’ve moved on” song

You used to have a face straight out a magazine, now you just look like anyone

12. …Ready For It? - Taylor Swift - I’m gay

In the middle of the night, in my dreams You should see the things we do, baby

11. Two Ghosts - Harry Styles - WOW I MISS HAYLOR

We’re not who we used to be We’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat

10. I Don’t Fuck With You - Big Sean - I’m so glad this made the top ten. Thank you to Big Sean for CLEANSING us with this song.

Everyday I wake up celebrating shit, why? Because I just dodged a bullet from a crazy bitch

9. I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers - This song has been integral in me coming to terms with grief and bettering myself as a person.  This is the ultimate hype track.

I chase that feeling of an eighteen year old who didn’t know what loss was

8. Love Me - The 1975 - This is the song that really got me into The 1975

A decline in the standards are what we accept

7. One Last Time - Ariana Grande - This is the most underrated of all of her singles, smh.  It’s so good?

I don’t really care if you’ve got her in your heart I really care is you wake up in my arms So one last time, I need to be the one who takes you home

6. Your Ex-Lover Is Dead - Stars - This song takes my breath away. It’s so fucking real, it’s so accurate. I love this song so much, I’m surprised it isn’t higher on this list to be honest.

It’s nothing but time and a face that you lose I chose to feel it and you couldn’t choose I’ll write you a postcard I’ll send you a note, from the house down the road from real love Live through this, and you won’t look back There’s one thing I want to say, so I’ll be brave You were what I wanted, I gave what I gave I’m not sorry I met you, I’m not sorry it’s over I’m not sorry there’s nothing to save

5. No Halo - Sorority Noise - This song reminds me of Shawn, I think about how he didn’t come home for Mike’s funeral a lot.  This whole album meant a lot to me, and Citizen cancelling their show and Sorority Noise playing a full set is one of the best things that happened to me in 2017.

So when you show up to my funeral, will you be wearing white or black?

4. Sex - The 1975 - I didn’t realize I listened to this much 1975 this year, lol

Now we’re on the bed in my room, and I’m about to fill his shoes But you say no, you say no

3. Bonfire - Childish Gambino - I listened to this during every workout I did this year, it’s such a pump up song

Tell me how I suck again my memory is hazy

2. Somebody Else - The 1975 - This song sounds like Depeche Mode and I am in love with it.  It’s so pretty, and my sister and I would listen to it together all of the time.

I’m looking through you while you’re looking through your phone and then leaving with somebody else I don’t want your body, but I hate to think about you with somebody else

1. Cutting My Fingers Off - Turnover - Let the record show that if Michael and I ever break up, you can find me on my bedroom floor listening to this on an endless loop

To make you go, to make you go, I never wanted to make you go You might be a stranger now, but I just wanted to let you know that I meant what I said

[mysteryfanfictheatre3000]

Back to the Frollo, Chapter 13

Warning: makeout sesh in a church.

Chapter Thirteen

I don't know how I let Claude talk me into extending our romantic weekend, but there I was, in his private chambers, huddled on the bed, and wrapped in a hand-crocheted afghan I made for him last winter.

So this is modern-day again? This author really has to tell us when she’s switching between timelines.

Claude insisted that I return him to Paris because he was anxious to find and punish the soldier who embarassed him. I knew Claude didn't...well, neither did I...want to say good-bye too soon. It had just started to rain; sometimes I forget how chilly the Palace of Justice can be on damp, autumn nights. Claude left to confer with his officers, and I began thinking about our first night together during that fantastic summer. Claude was so sweet; well, to tell the truth, he got a little silly and steamy after I started singing that old Ray Charles song. I couldn't help but laugh at the memory.

I still don’t understand his affinity for whatever random music Danisha enjoys. He’s a 1400s priest; he wouldn't ever like that. Ever.

Claude returned to the room and sat on the side of the bed. "Don't tell me you're cold, darling", he said good-humoredly, noting my efforts to get warm. "I'm not that cold', I half-heartedly protested, "it's just that I was waiting...." "Waiting for me to warm you, my love?" Claude leaned over and kissed my lips. "I'm not cold anymore, baby", I said as I embraced his lean body and let the afghan fall from my shoulders. He chuckled softly in my ear as he began to caress me and held my body close to his.

That was an image I never need to have in my head. Ugh. Stop.

"Mmmm...Danisha...", Claude sighed while he continued to kiss and caress me. I enjoyed his moans of pleasure, as I returned each caress with equal passion. "Ooh, Claude...", I sighed, my body tingling from his mouth and hands on my skin. Desire rose and stirred in me like a storm.

Let’s not go into smut territory, please. Please. I don’t want to have that vision in my mind of these two doing the nasty.

Suddenly, I whispered, "Claude, what if someone comes? The soldiers..." Claude Frollo, who was not about to stop what he was doing, laughed softly and said, "My dear, no one or nothing will disturb us tonight. I've left strict orders...Ooh, darling, you are so beautiful."

Wait, soldiers? Did they go back in time again together? Did I miss that? I guess they’re at the Palace of Justice, for some reason. The fact that they keep treating it like this uber-romantic place disturbs me because it was where prisoners were kept and tortured.

And with that, Claude and I embarked on yet another night of passion. The pattering of rain against the window, and the crackling of the fire set the perfect stage for our romantic rendevous. Funny, our first time was not all candlelight and roses; instead, what started as a pleasant visit was soon transformed into a night of shocking revelations....then the fun began...

I don’t want to hear about your “fun!” Stop!

******

Have to hurry and get things together....There he is! I had just finished supper, tidied the house, and changed my clothes when I heard the knock on the door. Claude was coming over and I wanted everything to be perfect. Although we had seen each other nearly every day since that anguished, tearful session in the bell tower, Claude hadn't set foot in the modest home I shared with Fern, not since that day I offered him cake and lemonade I went out of my way, cooking foods I knew he'd never tried but would learn to like.

No, he won’t learn to like him. Again, they’ll just make him sick. Very sick. That being said, feed it to him anyway, he deserves it.

I planned a simple supper of fried chicken, green beans, and cornbread. Cooking over an open fireplace is an experience in itself; Fern taught me a few tricks on regulating the heat and how to keep myself safe when near open flames. It wasn't easy but I finally got the hang of it; nonetheless, I still missed the 20th century conveniences of gas stoves and microwaves.

Wait, so you’re cooking green beans, fried chicken and cornbread over an open flame? You can’t cook all those things all at once with the same method and temperature. Fried chicken… can that even be made with the resources Danisha has here?

I peeped through the glass and sighed with relief. "Claude!", I said as I opened the door, "I wasn't expecting you until later." I threw my arms around him and kissed his lips. "But I'm glad you're here." Claude Frollo smiled and returned the kiss. He was carrying a small basket and somthing else: a rolled parcel wrapped in muslin. "What's that, baby?", I asked. Claude set the basket and parcel on a table, then removed his hat and cloak. "Not so fast, dearest one", he playfully said as he neatly hung his wraps on the hook near the door. How did he know where our coatrack was....

It’s right near the door he just entered. He probably just looked at it. There is nothing sinister about placing a coat on a very visible coat rack.

Claude then handed me the rolled parcel, saying, "I saw you admiring this and I thought you'd like to have it." He smiled broadly as I unwrapped the bundle. I gasped in surprise; it was a tapestry! It was a small, but detailed, work, no larger than an average-sized poster, depicting the French countryside complete with the Seine flowing lazily through quiet woods and meadows. I marveled at the intricate stitches and the softness of the fabric. "Oh Claude, it's gorgeous! I don't know what to say...."

I have no words. What a totally inaccurate and shoehorned-in gesture!

I immediately embraced and kissed him. "Thank you! Thank you!" Claude chuckled and returned my kiss, then replied, "You are most welcomed, my darling." At once, I hung the tapestry in a prominent spot near the front window; that way, it would catch the morning light.

And fade in the sun, or….?

I stood back and looked at this work of medieval textile artistry; Claude walked up and embraced me from behind. "Does it look familiar, Nisha?" I narrowed my eyes and examined the tapestry further; then it hit me! "Isn't this the one I was looking at....", I said with astonishment. Claude kissed the back of my neck and stroked my hair as he finished, "On that first day we met. Even after your little outburst, I had made up my mind to give you this treasure."

This is like every awful rom-com ever made, but in the 1400s between two unlikable racists.

I turned around to face him. Mmmm...he looks so fine! "Honey, you didn't have to do this." Claude kissed me again, deeply this time, and I couldn't resist responding to him with my own fiery passion. "You deserve the best, sweet darling", he said, "I want you to know that I'd do anything for you. I love you so." We held and kissed each other for several minutes. Maybe, I thought, this would be the night. We had been fighting the inevitable ever since that night we confessed our love. One step at a time, girlfriend, don't rush it.

You confessed your love to each other in a teary, dramatic mess of a discussion, publicly in a church. You’ve already made out. You change your attitude every five seconds and hate/love him. You aren’t taking things one step at a time, you’re going way overboard with each other.

I then focused on the basket, asking Claude, "Now, sugarbritches, what's in the basket?" Claude Frollo looked at me with sparkling eyes, then took me by the hand over to the table. "I do believe I owe you something; I'm surprised you haven't asked for it by now." I removed the white cover, reached inside and took out a ball: my special autographed baseball!

This mix of ancient tapestries and Americana is just weird. This story can’t even pick an aesthetic and stick to it, it’s just all over the place. It doesn’t know what it is.

"The thing that started it all...", I playfully began as Claude started laughing. "And ultimately brought us together", he added. Then I noticed another item in the basket. "What's this, Claude?", I asked as I pulled out what looked like a Mason jar. Now I was confused. Mason jars did not exist during the 15th century. And what's this amber liquid inside?

She knows that Mason jars didn’t exist yet, but she thought Columbus was Spanish and had already sailed to America? This is in the same vein as Frollo knowing the inventor of tupperware. It’s like they curiously only know about each others’ time periods when the author says they should for plot convenience.

Claude nonchalantly replied, "Oh that. Just something I'd thought you'd like. Go on, my dear, open it." I complied and opened the jar. The contents, the aroma, were unmistakable: Tennessee whiskey. "How?...Where?...Claude...Tennessee whiskey? In 15th century France?!" I was so dumbstruck, so utterly confused, that I felt myself swooning.

I’m utterly confused, too. That’s not even romantic. It’s booze. He easily could have gotten you French booze. Did he time-travel just to get you special whiskey? How does he even know what whiskey you like?!

Claude rushed over and caught me, taking the jar from my trembling hand. After placing the jar on the table, Claude guided me to the couch and cradled me like a small child. In my dazed state, I heard him say, "Danisha...I'm sorry, my love. I wasn't thinking...it's much too soon." I partially regained my senses and asked him, "What do you mean by 'too soon'? I don't understand."

Much too soon to give her whiskey as a present, but not too soon to have a loud public makeout session in a church?

Claude tenderly kissed my face and mouth; his mood now turned to serious concern. Finally he said, "Nisha, my dearest one, I know all about...How can I put this without shocking you further?" I felt my bearings returning, only to be knocked for a loop again. "You know all about what?", I asked, now feeling uneasy and apprehensive. "Darling", Claude replied gently, "I wanted to wait, but...I know all about Fern, the...'car'?...your little excursions..."

How? And why is he not burning her as a witch, then? He should be freaking the entire hell out right now. That’s like me falling in love with an alien and finding his alien spaceship, and not being the least confused. Frollo should be utterly bemused.

I felt myself swooning again as I looked at Claude in bewilderment. "You KNOW about us? Why are you telling me this? I thought you loved me! You said you'd never hurt me!"

Wait, why is his knowledge of the car hurting her? How is that breaking any promises? He just said he noticed the very noticeable car.

Tears welled in my eyes and Claude, now feeling guilty about this revelation, drew closer to me, and held me tightly. "I knew this would be too much for you. But, sweet Nisha, everything would've been eventually revealed. I never meant for this to hurt you; I love you too dearly to upset you." He kissed me, then, finally confessed what would at last explain why Fern brought me to medieval Paris.

Did you not think to ask her why she brought you here at the beginning of your little excursion? You just went along with it with no clue as to why?

"Danisha...Your friend, Fern...darling, please don't be too shocked...has been here before...she's one of my spies."

That makes absolutely no sense! How was he able to communicate with Fern and why does he want Danisha badly enough to set spies after her in the future? How does that even happen? Nothing in this story matches up and everything is a mess. Every time I think I’ve seen it all she throws me for another loop that makes me want to jump off a bridge. I’m slowly losing the will to live.

[magpiewritingthing]

grab a new lifeline / 1

Chapter: 1; they do not shred him

Series: traditionalist wesen, remixed

Overall Summary: Now that Rolan’'s got one foot in the proverbial door, he’s on the slow(, slow, realllly slow) path to forging a friendship -- or at least an acquaintenceship -- with Monroe The Blutbad. Wesen dynamics will be changing, baby!

Not that the Bauerschwein’s ever taken other factors into consideration, ever. Such as: traditional Wesen; his own housemates being their unpredictable selves; a Grimm, who is also a cop; a serial killer; Monroe’s other friends, both present and past.

Oh, and his Purely Hypothetical Crush blowing up into something a little too real. Life’s a shin-kicker like that.

Chapter Summary: Roland comes home from his walk in the woods, and comes to a revelation about his brief (and awkward) encounter with a Blutbad. His housemates are less than impressed. And a body is found.

Warnings: mention of domestic violence and child abuse (in the past) in the latter half of this chapter; mention of murder

Other notes: i am... winging this; also, i also took liberties with the multiple variation of Taureus-Armenta and my latin is like practically nonexistant but lmao :’); also-also, mild innuendo and sex jokes

The breath is still rattling out of him when he gets home, stumbling up the front porch with now-wobbly legs. Angel, while sitting in such a way on the porch rocker that’ll likely give his back grief later, gives him a funny look. Probably because Roland can't keep the goofy-ass smile off his face for a more than three seconds.

“What’s got ya?” Angel asks before Roland has a chance to escape inside and hide in his bedroom.

“Nothin’,” he mumbles at the door, out of reflex. No reason for it, other than the creeping sensation that he should be embarrassed. Because the whole thing’s ridiculous, he knows, but— “No it’s just—” He stumbles, licking his lips and huffing: getting his thoughts clear. “I… met someone.” He jerks his head in the general direction of where they'd met. “In the woods.”

Which he probably shouldn’t’ve said because now Angel’s got that look on his face. “Ohhhhh?” he drawls, left forefinger tucked into the junction between finger and thumb, right forefinger poised. “You mean like—” Right pointer, meet left vacuum; please get to know each other intimately. “‘Cooling off’ with the luckiest—”

Angel doesn’t get much further than that before Roland thumps his shoulder, and even though he laughs, it hurts like Hell because Roland for sure has razors in his knuckles and the hammering force of… mmm, yeah, a hammer. “No, not like that, you asshole!” Roland isn’t laughing, but he is grinning, cheeks and ears pinker at the suggestion. “You’re fuckin’ nasty, A.”

“Virgin.”

“Pervert.”

Angel tuts, wagging his finger in Roland’s face. “Touché, mon frère; you got me there.” They both laugh at that, too: their own little rhyming joke. And, at least in Roland’s eyes, it’s an affirmation of affection, even when they get in each other’s faces. He’s come to cherish it, quietly, and all the other small phrases and actions, because Angel is hardly ever… honest with himself, never full-on affectionate or willing to settle down for a heart-to-heart when things flare up. Like an argument over what would be the best way to approach an interview or questionnaire or no you should totally go for this vs. no i can’t—

“Earth to Roly-Poly!”

“Yeah.” He slaps his friend’s arm out of his face. “Fuck off, man.”

“You fuck off; I’m chillin’.” Then, contrary, “Who’d you meet out there if you weren’t getting’ it oooon?” Complete with awful, cheesy hip movements. Why’re they friends again?

Now Roland is self-conscious. Again. Because what if Angel freaks out over a Blutbad, even if he doesn't know where they live? “It— uh… Blutbad.”

When his friend’s eyebrows drop into a concerned frown (he doesn't ever do outright fear, too wrapped up in preserving his self-image), so does Roland’s stomach. “I mean I’m alive, so it’s not bad—”

“How.” Rising out of the rocker, he looms over Roland by a full head. Grasping the sides of Roland's face, he asks, “How’re you alive, man?” And although this concern is touching (to the point of being embarrassing because jeez, it’s like he’s never been hugged as a child), he can only blurt out, dumbly, “Wieder.”

“… Ah.” The relief settles over Angel’s face, relaxing it into the usual smile (or near enough, the momentary concern still lingering), dimples deepening. He lets go of Roland’s face. “Veggie-friendly wolfman.”

“Yeah. Rabbit-friendly, too. Cutesy sorta…” He shrugs, eyes to the side because Monroe flashes in his head again: Monroe holding the rabbit; Monroe in woge; Monroe in a more comfortable stance; Monroe walking towards him; Monroe walking away. “… thing.”

The smile turns into a cheeky grin, as though knowing. “Is he?”

“Awhh, dude, no—”

“Have you got like, a thing for dudes who can kill you? Is that your thing?”

“Fuckin’… maybe!”

“Awh, baby virgin has a death-wish crush on a veggie wolfman!”

“I do not!”

Before they can argue any more – Roland’s face growing pinker by the second and Angel’s grin growing wide enough to encompass his face – Winona’s car pulls up. It’s just after half-past seven, and only now are Kenna and Winona coming home. One would think a teacher and administrative assistant would be home sooner than that. “You’re late for dinner!” Angel calls, nudging past Roland to go inside.

“Incredible,” Kenna mutters, “the house hasn’t burned down.”

“It’s probably microwave meals, let’s be honest,” Roland joins in.

“Fuck y’all,” is the welcoming indignant noise to all three as the file in the front door and towards the kitchen/dining room.

“Fuck me running a marathon, I’m starving,” Winona says, immediately swinging open the pantry door and squinting at tins upon tins of beans, corn, baby carrots, baby potatoes, and garden peas. “We got anything else?”

“Pizza,” Angel says as he cranks the oven on.

“Fuck’s sake—”

“Couldn’t be assed buying anything else today so we’re gobbling on shit. Again.”

Further half-hearted squabbling over food washes over Roland as he begs silently for Angel not to bring up the topic of Monroe up anytime soon. Or at all. Neither prayer seems at all likely – having lived a year and six months with the other man, Roland knows what to expect by now – but it never harms to at least try. Kenna, for her part, is quiet. Tired from another day of kids and keeping them engaged, he supposes. He’s not asked yet, and can't find a way that doesn't come off as right-out odd, but he hopes the kids like her as much as she enjoys teaching them.

“So, anyway,” Angel starts, and yes Roland knew it was inevitable but he’s rolling his eyes anyway, praying that Angel is only leading into this with that teasing vibe only to swerve onto something completely different— but he doesn’t. Natch. “Didja hear about Roly’s iddy-diddy crush?”

Winona leans back, mock-gasping, “No!” while Kenna leans forward, elbows on the table, asking, “Really? Aww.”

“Yep – on a Blutbad.”

The girls choke; Winona bangs the table and shakes her head while Kenna splutters, “what! what! are you shitting me! what!” At least it’s perked her up a bit; makes her look lively and less likely to fall face-first and full-asleep into her food.

Then Angel has the gall to be placating, and Roland can only muster up so much energy to glare at him. Panache: Angel’s got it in spades. “Now, now, ladies, it’s A-OK – the dude’s Wieder. Veggie reform.”

Both women scoff; Winona slaps the table again, and Kenna mutters, “Fucking Hell, but a Blutbad? Roly, honey… really?” Her eyebrows scrunch together in her confusion, and she only turns her head when Winona excuses herself from the table. “’m tired, g’night, y’all, Blutbad-fuckers and none alike.” A garbled chorus blesses her winddown-to-actual-bedtime way (“G’night babe.” “I'm not even—” “Nighty-night, lamb.”), and she waves as she trudges upstairs to her and Kenna's bedroom, either to read or translate a book.

Dishes are cleaned and dried and put away, and the remaining three perform their own winddown rituals: Kenna scampers up to one half of the attic, having claimed the eastern half of it as her “study” room (the other half belongs to Leopoldo); Roland drags out his sketchbook from his bedside drawer, along with pencils and pens, and sets to doodling on the fold-out couch he’s got squashed in one corner of his boxy bedroom; Angel watches a How It's Made episode, and he almost considers calling the others down, because they all share a casual interest in this sort of thing, but as it is, he's settled down and far too comfy to move.

Angel considers ignoring the knocking at the door, too, even when they call out that it’s the police, and it is rather urgent. Now, not that his friends have much of a clue, but the memory of a blue boy’s (or blue girl’s) knock is ingrained into his memory – father and mother being the reason that they came in the first place, upsetting and scaring the neighbours (and him) with all sorts of noises. It doesn’t bother him at present, not just because he’s done nothing wrong (might’ve… broke a girl’s heart, once or twice or thrice, but he’s always smoothed it out before) (and not recently, anyway), but because he has nothing to fear. He could probably charm the pants off any person if he were actually human, he’s sure.

Still, there’s no need to irritate, so with great reluctance he heaves himself up off the sofa (that’ll probably end up in the basement in five years’ time), and heads towards the door, noting Roland’s hesitant presence at the top of the stairs before he hides behind the wall again. Nothing to think of, as Roland likes being ‘sneaky’ and an eavesdropper, so when Angel opens the door, he’s not expecting much of anything. Probably the only thing that's ‘urgent’ is that there’s been another string of robberies.

“Evenin’, y’all. What can I do you for?” Off the bat, it sounds ridiculous to hear from his own mouth, but he liked the idea of it rolling off of his tongue so easily. Just some chipper dude enjoying the last dregs of the evening before tuckering off to bed to fetch his sleep before the long work day ahead of him.

At least, as chipper as he can be considering the cop in front of him is a Grimm.

Cold blue, then cold darkness, infinite, stretching long like visible neurons and only his face, his real face is staring back and it is like that old Nietzsche saying, isn’t it?

The cop barely reacts, his face only steeling with realisation. Angel’s only vaguely aware of Roland trotting down the stairs (thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump) when the cop – Detective Burkhardt – tells him there’s been a suspicious death in the woods. His partner, Detective Griffin, stands a few feet behind him.

“Oh,” is Angel’s empty reply as he slides in to fill the frame of the front door, trying to block Roland from seeing the Grimm at their door, and keep the Grimm from knowing that there’s more than one Wesen living in the house. They’re all of the harmless variety anyway, so even if he weren't a cop, he’d have no business messing with them. Yet the panic doesn’t leave, only intensifying with the gasp and strangled, “Oh, shit.” At least Roland’s trying to keep his shit under wraps, even if he is now visible and motionlessly panicking under the Grimm’s eye.

Burkhardt, for his part, is acting professionally while the two of them freak out. “Have either of you heard or seen anything?” They both answer in the negative. When Griffin asks how long they’ve been home (suspect list suspect list suspect list), Angel says that he was home since four in the afternoon after finishing up some handywork in the inner city. Roland struggles to remember when he came home.

“I think it was a bit before Kenna and Winni, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Angel agrees, “you came back from…” He spares Burkhardt a glance, “From the woods after your walk.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Roland bites his lip, and adds, mouth running a thousand miles a minute, “I took a walk earlier after we’d gone over some job applications.”

“We?” Burkhardt repeats. Behind him, Griffin shifts his stance, glancing at his partner; the tone was perhaps too sharp for just a simple door-to-door inquiry.

Roland squeezes into the frame, gesturing helplessly at his friend. “He helped me because I get stressed out when going through paperwork.”

Both Wesen are now sure they’ve fallen into the trap of over-explaining themselves: methinks the suspect doth protest too much. In any case, Burkhardt isn’t giving anything away.

“Alright, so what time did you leave, Mr…?”

“Uh, Hoffmann.” Pause, glance at Angel. “Roland.” Clears his throat. “Uh, I think it was… was it around four?”

“No, that’s when I came back, dot-on. You and me went over that paperwork and questionnaire stuff and you went and cleared your head about… five? Ish?”

Another quick look at the Grimm; not a thing from him.

“So yeah, and you came back about seven thirty – wow, you were gone long.”

This time, a trickle of interest on both of the detectives’ faces, and Roland panics.

“I was just walking, man,” he protests, shuffling a quarter-inch further into the house, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Was there anyone else you bumped into who looked suspicious?” Griffin asks, his tone more casual than his partner’s.

“No—” Roland shrugs and frowns. “No-one I thought was suspicious.” A sort-of lie: Monroe The Blutbad sticks out, but… he let the rabbit go. He let the frigging rabbit go, and for fuck’s sake the dude’s Wieder. “I just met one guy in the woods.” He tries for joviality: “I think he’s more the rabbit person than a killer, though.” Of course, it falls flat.

Griffin nods slowly, as if deciding that it’s time to call it a night before Burkhardt can ask any more questions, which is just as well because if he asks anything about their other housemates, there’d be chaos: Winona would break down blubbering under the scrutiny of a police officer even when innocent, and Kenna would stonewall them at every turn; Leo and Elham might be more cooperative, wary as they might be (being no better than the girls, really); Charalampos and Sophia would… well, they might be better with the police, but only if it weren’t posed as some sort of challenge, because they were must stubborn (natch, as Taureus-Armentum).

“Alright, if there’s anything else,” Griffin reaches forward with a number on plain card, “call us.”

“Will do,” is Roland's automatic answer.

Once the two detectives leave, the door is locked and the ground floor is double-checked to make sure the windows and back door are also closed and locked; their other friends have their own keys, so they’ll be able to get in without struggle. The looming promise – “There’ll be someone to come and take your statements tomorrow morning.” – leaves a bad taste in Roland’s mouth.

“Who died?”

Kenna hangs back on the stairs, Winona staying on the landing; it’s likely that she barricaded the bedroom if she ever looked out of the window and saw the cop car, or even so much as heard the word police when they first knocked.

“Dunno,” Angel says, and he instantly sounds more like his usual self – less strung-out, more so-laid-back-he's-horizontal. “We didn't ask, and they just said it was a suspicious death.”

“One of ‘em was a Grimm,” Roland blurts out, and Kenna swears while Winona moans lowly and sags against the wall.

“Oh fuck me fucking sideways, then.”

“Babe,” Winona whines, half-hiccuping, half trying to laugh.

“TMI, hon,” Angel says. Again, lightheartedness falls flat, and dies.

The panicked buzz over the ‘suspicious death’ and the new knowledge of a Grimm blankets them as they retire to bed. The promise of someone on the police force coming over tomorrow to take their statements feels more like a threat, something to trip them up and wrangle a confession out of them.

But it’s not the police, or the death of a person yet unknown, that take precedence in Roland's mind once he’s pulled the covers over his body. It’s the woged face of Monroe The Blutbad, and a rabbit in his hands. More than the panicked dread over the next morning that’s threatening to drag his body into a sleepless, restless night, his head is light with stupid, optimistic hope.

Wieder Wieder Wieder Wieder Wieder--

He dreams of teeth. They do not shred him.

[expertfitnesstipsblog-blog]

Recipes with just 3 ingredients for those nights lazy cooking nights

You know the feeling: after a long and hard day at work, sometimes all you want to do when you get home is collapse on the couch and catch up on The Bachelor – not spend an hour in the kitchen cooking up a healthy meal. So, you do the former and chow down on Uber Eats instead.But, what if I told you that you can whip up a healthy meal in no time with three simple ingredients? Well, listen up. Your dinner just got a whole lot easier.

The basics

For a balanced meal, you want to include the following three components:1. Protein – think meat, poultry, seafood, eggs, tofu, legumes, nuts or seeds. This is important for muscle maintenance and repair, and can help to keep you feeling full. But, don’t go overboard! Protein should only make up about a quarter of your meal.2. Carbohydrates - these mostly come from grains and cereals, but also starchy veg like potato and corn. It’s important to choose low-GI options, which will give you long-lasting energy and keep you feeling satisfied (in other words, bye-bye white bread). This component should also make up roughly a quarter of your plate.3. Veg – and lots of them! The remaining 50 per cent of your plate should be made up of non-starchy veg. Not only are veg nutrient-dense, they’re also low in calories, so you can eat a lot of them for little energy cost. Veggies provide a good dose of fibre as well, which supports a healthy gut and can help to keep you feeling full. The recipesNow we’ve got that out of the way, some of my favourite quick and easy three ingredient meal suggestions include:Baked beans on toast with avocado – yep, those pantry staples you had as a child are actually pretty healthy, but be sure to choose a reduced-salt variety. Pair it with wholegrain bread and a quarter of an avocado and you’ve got yourself a dietitian-approved meal for any time of day.Microwave brown rice cup, microwave bag of frozen veg and a fillet of fish – you might be surprised to learn that frozen veggies are just as nutritious as their fresh counterparts, so don’t shy away from the freezer section at the supermarket. I like to keep frozen veggies at home for those nights towards the end of the week when fresh produce is looking a little lacklustre.Pulse pasta, packet sauce and a sprinkle of parmesan – packet sauce, say what?! Yes, packaged products are notorious for their nasties, but they’re not all that bad. Opt for a plain tomato-based sauce that’s low in sat fat (read: has less than 3g per 100g) and has as little sodium as possible (aim for less than 120mg sodium per 100g). Pair it with healthy ingredients like pulse pasta, which provides both quality carbohydrates and protein, and you’ve got a much healthier meal than what you’d get at your local takeaway.BBQ chicken, pre-chopped bag of mixed salad and a small tin of corn – when the cooking and the cutting is already done for you, you really have no excuses. Simply remove from each component from its packaging (and of course discard the chicken skin) and voila.Poached eggs on toast with mushrooms – you can’t go past a couple of eggs on toast for a meal that’s ready in minutes. Eggs are super nutritious, containing quality protein, healthy fats and a range of vitamins and minerals. Paired with wholegrain toast and mushies, you’ve got yourself a healthy, balanced meal.Melissa Meier is a Sydney-based Accredited Practising Dietitian. You can follow her @honest_nutrition.If you enjoyed this, read about the exercise that really boosts your metabolism, and the 7 myths of weight loss according to Sam Wood. Know someone who'd love this? Share it with them! Source link Read the full article

[dividedwerisetogetherwefall]

Chapter 7: Skadoosh

A loud, annoying noise shrieked from the alarm mounted on the wall. An orchestra of groans and moans formed in response, as the team slowly got out of their beds. One by one they got on their feet and walked to the bathroom like a horde of zombies. The bathroom was well furnished with multiple sinks, mirrors, showers, and toilets. Their feet tapped against the luxurious tile floor as they got ready for the day ahead of them. Pandu lazily brushed his teeth, combed his fur, and washed his face and quickly got out of the room. Soon, the others filed out of the bathroom with bags under their half-closed eyes. Like thieves in the night, they raided the kitchen and made breakfast out of whatever they could find. Apparently the cupboards had been magically refilled overnight, because Pandu found multiple boxes of Trader Flo’s Nuclear Sugar Warheads. The noise created by the commotion almost deafened Pandu as he barely made his way out of the warzone. He quickly snagged the boxes and sat in a corner, eating the dry sugary mess all by himself. He watched as the team waded in each other’s bodies as they tried to prepare breakfast. 

Pandu watches the chaos from afar. Noodles, was carrying a cup of instant noodles and almost tripped on someone’s ankle. He spiraled out of control for a good minute,  and as he recovered he remarked, “Hey! Watch it, will ya?” He shot a nasty stare at the mass of people as he made his way to his chair in the center of the room. One by one, they exit the hellhole which was the kitchen and stationed themselves around the room. For once, all was silent, as the people of Team NP ate their breakfasts. Pandu licked the excess sugar off his lips, picked up the pile of cereal boxes which lay next to him, and tossed them all into the recycling bin, which was located in the kitchen. Pandu returned to his corner once more and dozed off as everyone else began to finish their meals. The rest of the guys quickly finish their food, clean their plates, and place them in the sink. The rest of the group returned to their eating spots and stared emptily into space. They would occasionally make eye contact, exchange looks, and laugh to try to break the ice but their efforts were in vain. Pandu stared at the boring white clock which hung on the wall. It was as if time was slowing down. Pandu’s eyes grow heavy and his head drooped, but the noise of an unlocking door gripped his attention and shook him awake. Without explanation, the large metal door on the other side of the giant vault door opened and everyone was beginning to make their way to it. Pandu slowly got up, and followed the others to the door. Before he can see through the entrance, he was stopped by Lex, who was blocking the doorway completely. “Sorry, I didn’t explain this to you earlier, but I just want to let you know that the door to the training door opens during the day. You don’t have to come in with us, but really there isn’t much else to do around here.” Pandu nodded to show his understanding. Lex shrugged, and realizing he was blocking Pandu off, stepped to the side and said, “Sorry, didn’t meant to block ya, move along.” “Thanks.” Pandu said. He passed Lex, and was instantly stunned by the sight of the training room. Bright stadium lights filled his eyes with tears as his paws stepped onto the bouncy running track, which stretched around the room. It was like an indoor football stadium, and Pandu simply stood in the middle of the track, shocked by the absolute beauty it all. He looked around the room, and saw that everyone else was hard at work. Onett, Yolk and Pony’s footsteps echoed across the stadium as they ran around the track over and over again. In the middle of the stadium were multiple exercise machines, which were occupied by the rest of the gang. Patrick was strapped into some strange robotic stretcher, which seemed like they were almost tearing his limbs off; Ultra, and Freddy were lifting small dumbbells; and Carson was benchpressing 300 pounds as if it were nothing. He would’ve spent the whole day just standing there if Lex hadn’t confront him. “So, are you gonna do something or what?” He asked. Pandu snapped out of his daydream and laughed nervously. He hadn’t realized Lex was right beside him on the track. “Yea! Of course.” Pandu said reluctantly. Lex smiled and replied, “Cool! Alright I’m gonna go lift some weights, see you later!” Pandu watched as Lex jogged to do weight lifting area. Dread hung around his neck like a noose. Pandu sighed heavily and spotted a treadmill among the multitude of exercise machines which were erected on concrete which filled the empty space that the track surrounded. To be completely frank, all he wanted to do was stay home, eat Trader Flo’s Triple Deluxe Chocolate Wafers, and play Mausoleum of Monsters. Alas, here he was, in the middle of a training room, preparing for a cruel game of life or death for millions of people to see. He stepped onto the treadmill, and pressed the power button. Slowly but surely, his anxiety grew as he ran on the treadmill. Thoughts went and came as he did his cardio. Malicious, dark thoughts such as, “Wow I can actually die from this whole Red Warfare thing. Am I too young to die? Is this really worth it? A deadly lottery to see if I can sustain myself for the rest of my life?” He breathed heavily as he hopped from foot to foot. He looked down and saw the treadmill display screen, which gave Pandu an overview of his progress. Pandu read it aloud in between heavy breaths, “ Speed: 1/10, wheeze, Distance: 800 meters, pant pant, Calories burnt: 26.43, wheeze.” Pandu swiftly flicked the power switch off, and hopped off. He put his hands on his knees and stared at the ground as he attempted to regain his stamina. After a long breathing session, he straightened his back, and got back on the treadmill. He hated every second of exercise, but something inside of him pushed him to work harder and get stronger. He pushed the power button again, and started jogging again. As he began his run, he whispered to himself, “This is for me. This is for my future.”                                                             *** Pandu almost collapsed when he stepped back into the main living room. As he stepped from the bouncy track to the soft carpet, the door leading the exercise room shut immediately. Everyone else had come in an hour before he did. They all looked up from their dinners as they spotted Pandu. Pandu didn’t care what they thought of him. He didn’t care if they thought he was fat, or that he was dumb as a bag of rocks. For once, his walk had some confidence behind it, as he slowly made his way to his bed and laid on it, staring at the bottom of the bed above him, breathing heavily. After a few minutes, he got out and hit the showers. He walked like a zombie, slowly inching his way to the stalls. He grabbed the shower curtain, almost ripped it off, entered the shower stall, and closed the curtains again. Pandu turned on the hot water, closed his eyes, and smiled. He sloppily applied shampoo to his entire body as he enjoyed his five minutes in heaven. After he was done, he shut off the water, dried himself with a large, fluffy, white towel, and made his way to the kitchen to make himself some dinner. Luckily for him, he had the kitchen all to himself since everyone else had finished, so he made himself a feast consisting of Trader Flo’s Deluxe Triple Fudge Cupcakes, some microwave rice, and canned meat called PAMS. He applied some oil to the pan, and cooked the meat from a distance in order to avoid the searing hot particles of fat that flew off it sporadically. After a few minutes, it stopped sizzling, and he slid it off the pan onto a paper plate. A few seconds later, the microwave beeped, signaling that it had completed its job. Pandu opened the microwave door, took out the rice, and opened the lid, revealing the glorious starchy contents. His mouth salivated as he dumped all the rice onto the paper plate. He popped open a package of Trader Flo’s Deluxe Triple Fudge Cupcakes, and took one out of the box, and held it with his left paw, which was especially hard since he didn’t have opposable thumbs. He took his food, and sat on his bed, while everyone stared at him. Pandu took his chopsticks and began to dig in. His monstrous eating noises were the only thing that could be heard in the room. He shoveled down the salty meat, and the plain rice into his mouth until there was none left. He grabbed his cupcake, unwrapped the outside, and ate the whole thing in one bite. He smiled, and burped loudly as he tossed his dirty paper plate into the trash. He head straight for the bathroom, with a full, satisfied stomach. He quickly washed up for bed, sprinted to his bed, and slid under the covers. Before everyone dozed off, Lex quickly announced, “Looks like we are due for another member tommorow! Everyone be prepared!” Everyone nodded their heads. Pandu’s ears perked up at the mention of another member joining them. Lex flipped the light switch off and said, “Goodnight guys!” They all replied, “Goodnight Lex.” Pandu smiled at the thought of a new member. The anticipation would’ve kept him awake the whole night if it wasn’t for the deadly combination of vigorous exercise and a large meal. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep. Pandu entered the land of dreams, and it felt as if he were waking up in a new world, with a new life. He was still in bed, but the covers felt softer and the room was cozier. He rubbed his eyes, and sat up. It was still the middle of the night, but he was wide awake. He navigated through the dark, and found a light switch, which he flicked on. He took a second to appreciate the beauty of his own room. To his surprise, the room was lavishly furnished with mahogany wood dressers, soft cotton sheets, and furry carpets and blankets. A mini glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the rose red walls were intricately decorated with floral patterns. He walked to the window which was behind his bed, and took a peek outside. He noticed he was on the second floor of a house, and after more inspection of the exterior of the house, he soon realized he was in a bedroom of a luxury mansion. He turned away from the window and sat on his plush king sized bed. He took another second to admire his own bedroom. It was like living in an antique gallery, everything looked so expensive Pandu was afraid he was going to break something. After some time, he got bored and decided to go adventuring around the house. He hopped off the bed and landed on the panda fur carpet, which was stained red. “Must’ve been a grape juice spill.” He said to himself. He began walking to the door and before he could grab the knob and turn it, the lights began to flicker, until they suddenly shut off. He was plunged into darkness, and he began to stumble around wildly, attempting to find a source of light, but alas to no avail. He walked around blindly, knocking into things and tripping over his own feet. He began to panic more when he heard distance footsteps, approaching him. He felt around the darkness, found the door, and slammed the door to his bedroom shut. He groped around the darkness some more, until he felt his soft blankets. He hopped into it, and hid under the covers. He knew hiding under his blanket would do nothing, but fear overtook him and his muscles were frozen solid. He trembled and continually whispered to himself, “It’s okay Pandu, It’s okay.” His efforts were in vain, because the footsteps got louder, and louder until he couldn’t take it anymore and he shrieked in horror. Pandu woke up in a cold sweat. He was back in the training room, in his tiny bunk bed. He relaxed, and took many deep breaths to calm himself. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and went back to sleep. “Thank god that was just a dream.” He said to himself as he quickly fell asleep once more, as if nothing had ever happened.

[beeapocalypse]

it is Time To Dump about my boy Cain because finishing this creative final has really made me realize how much i love my boy (putting it under a read more because it gets really rambly,,)

Okay so he lives on this really fancy estate called House Oliver because his family is a really fancy old one that has been around forever and has a really big past in monster hunting. The time period for him is kind of??? medieval  like theres still sovereigns and knights and magical scholars and all that but in the monster hunter circles heavy bulky armor has kind of gone out of fashion because its really hard to run around and dodge in it and they favor more leathers and light chain mail that affords mobility (Cain himself wears a really finely made uniform that has been modified throughout his family’s history with like a protective leather vest underneath but that’s all the protection he gets he relies on being a speedy boy).

Right around when he turns 18 is when his mom, who had been attacked by a werewolf as a child that had a strain of lycanthropy that can stay dormant for up to fifty years (called the vulkodlak strain). She ends up rampaging throughout the entirety of House Oliver and slaughtering most of the staff and his father before reaching him. She mauls him REALLY badly before he can kick her off and go for his ~silver sword~ (a gift from his father that he received when he killed his first real nasty beasty) and shank her right in the head. Cain ends up fleeing the home and tracking down a witch hunter who’s a real close friend of the family and chills with them for awhile. 

One of the first jobs he takes completely on his own is to deal with this cult that resides in the sewers under a city branching off of the sovereign’s castle which was really,,,, dumb of him. He deals with the cultists pretty good but ends up finding the physical vessel for the spooky eldritch deity and tries doing the old stab-it-in-the-eye trick that he pulled on his mum. It doesn’t kill the thing (its??? a really old deity that kind of chills around the physical plane most of the time happy to have cultists worship it) but PISSES IT OFF and it ends up?? kind of partially cursing Cain partially straight up tiptoeing into his mind and looking around at all his memories and deciding ‘yeah i know what im going to do with this dick who stabbed me im gonna eat his memories’ AND IT DOES????? It doesn’t really make sense but its spooky eldritch stuff and even years after the whole event Cain still is really fuckin g forgetful because he has an honest to god deity chilling in his head chomping at his memories because its mad at him and feeds off of memories. 

While his really bad memory kind of fucks with his life when talking with any family friends (he ends up destroying most of his personal relationships six years later NICE) Cain is still really dedicated to monster hunting and rides around helping out people whenever he can while dealing with being a werewolf himself and his whole entire struggle of identity. 

On a more lighthearted note Cain is a really sappy man at heart and adores the arts but he would Fight anyone that said so because it was his mom who taught him all about classical literature and painting techniques and he’s a really big gotdamn nerd for architecture as well (he names his horse Rembrandt,,, waddahell). Cain’s a gay trans man who would Die if someone held his hand he is very touch starved and wants to Hold someone but he doesn’t want to really get close to anyone because he isn’t the best with social cues and doesn’t want to embarrass himself.

After years of fighting beasties and helping out towns he ends up riding into one named Fareer where the Mayor hires him to deal with a spooky monster in the woods that has a really bad habit of following anyone who enters the forest and wailing hauntingly during the night and stealing away livestock and just being a general nuisance. When he finally tracks down the beasty surprise!! its  ex-Fareer townsperson Calleo who managed to fuck up so severely when dealing with witches in the forest that he got his entire family cursed and turned into ugly deer people. Cain ends up feeling bad for the ugly monster fellow (Calleo is NOT a pretty boy,, hes too Goddamn tall and has weird raggedy wings and big clawed hands and a burnt up ugly deer skull for a face because another spooky monster of the forest ended up getting mad at him for talking to much and microwaved his face the only reason he’s still alive is because the witch that cursed him and his family thinks their besties and loves hearing him chatter) and chills in the forest with him for like a week before leaving, planning to go on with his life.

He ends up visiting Calleo a lot in the forest though and the two of them become really close friends through mutual unwanted curses and horrible taste in poetry (the first time Cain brought Calleo a book he just about cried and the two of them talked about their favorite things to read for like the rest of the day,,, sappy and gross). uhhh FUCK idk where i was going with this but i love cain he means a lot to me and probably the most important fact about him is he got into a fist fight with a vampire once and won and that is something he will Not stop bragging about

[bandofholyjoy-blog]

IT GETS LOCKED UP IN YOUR CHEST: MICHAEL BRANDON IN HAITI... Things get locked in your chest. Your chest-corporeal, I mean. You can be as stalwart as you wish, but things……get locked…. in your chest. Part One:   “What The Hell - Where Am I?” Forget that there was no ceiling over the majority of the house, yes, that is correct, no roofing. The impact was particularly “lofty," in that huge, arena-esque space ; a baby bird’s mouth at spit-feed time, indeed, the "living room.” We had mango trees where most homes had bookcases. They rose up and up, practically touching the stars, in my ripe, 11-year old imagination. Forget the (massive) mosquito nets , compulsory to sleep under (you best believe: Malaria and "This-or That”, killer fever). Forget the adult-male-hand-sized tarantulas, and how they’d drop on my fucking head, in that "Uniball Signo-207-level,” inky-blackness... of the country’s foul, microwave nights. Forget the omnipresent, after-dark-bats, or the violent chickens (yes) that would “entertain”, on random, possessed evenings. All of the unwanted guests, they had an oceanic entrance, and then some, through aforementioned, ‘negative-roofing.” I recall my mother, with broom-as-rapier, beating back those truculent, pecking , rabid-assed chickens. They behaved like They were, but I’ve never heard of rabies-infected fowl. WTF =  indeed. WTF was in the feed? Forget it all. Forget that I’m in Port-au-Prince, and it is 1977. From Park Avenue to Haiti ; I can envision the Off-Broadway, musical tragicomedy. “Why Mommy, Whhhhhy?” would  be the opening number. The Backdrop of glimmering, rubbish-free Park Avenue  sidewalks would be crumpled by a drop sheet festooning over the previous one ; the new background, blaring sunshine, highlighting makeshift huts, skeletal dogs and cats, and a woman encumbered or emboldened…via eight, weaved baskets (of varying size and weight) atop the crown of her head. “Ha," indeed. All traces of levity now-removed, as I type the name:  “Baby" Doc Duvalier. Forget the sight of him. The sight of a pinguid, nasty, ever-smirking menace, as he pierced the open sunroof of a too-long limousine ; all that was missing was a hood decal of the reaper. Forget that feculent beast, hurling coins to armless / legless children. I’m talking about kids that were my age and (much) younger. The sight of the children, literally tearing each other apart for a meagre allotment of coins... Let’s forget it. These were the same children, I’d consistently gift my sneakers, shirts, pants( everything) to. I’d walk home through those  seemingly endless, sugar cane fields, “home”….back to the haunted house, only to be greeted by mother-irate. To be fair, my mom was "half-irate.” It only pissed her off that she’d have to order me more clothes from the U.S.A . An overtly-charitable nature , innate. I’m serious. Was this a somatic mutation, only, in behavioral format? I was this way from birth. It can be grotesque, the kill-with-kindness shtick. I assure you, I have no freaking idea - why. WhyI’ve been this way. I do not choose this bizarre, saintly shit , do I? You will pay the price for kindness. Oh man, will you pay ; you'll even be despised for it. “You’d feed a starving dog and let yourself die.” My mother used to say that to me, and often. Would I? Hell if I know the answer to that question. I hope the answer is: “no way." I’d defend my recurring actions. "They were missing limbs!” t’was my clarion wail. My plea for the: "amputated-for-god-knows-why…” kids. I still do not know why so many were limbless. I’m assuming, petty transgressions (food theft?) ; these beautiful, still-smiling children, ever-clamouring for my clothing and shoes. Damn. Now I’m reminded to forget my truancy. The headmistress of the (country’s best) “Creole / American” school, admonishing my mother: “your child is  too intelligent to attend. Our school is shit. I advise you to stay away." OH! Let us also forget the omnipresent heat,it’s own universe of hatred and scorn…. a heat so pernicious, it incinerated my (American) comic books, literally, to ash. Forget that we’re in Haiti before the term ‘“Sweatshop” was fashionable. In all fairness….My mother has always, always treated anyone, anyone who has worked for her, like bordeline-royalty. She took care of every last person, and still does today. There is no one quite like her…for all the …Wait. Let me not lose focus (snicker!) Mike Brandon, lose focus? Remember. I am trying to forget. Forget my cat showing up at the doorstep with half his brains removed. What ungodly beast did that? I’ve forgotten it. Forget the rank, gamey pigeons we ate. I might not be able to forget... affable Destan. Destan. The ever-smiling, perpetually, (infectiously!) happy houseboy. My mother offered Destan a proper room, but he opted out. Destan preferred the dank, dark, "bird- basement", covered in turkey, dove, pigeon…. you-name-it / “ it’s what’s for dinner!” bird shit. I’m talking about spackle. I”m attempting to verbalize... shit-as-caulk. I’m talking about tenfold layers and layers  of bird crap. I’ll never be able to find the words for the density of that avian, "shit-splosion." The stench alone? OH, dear g….. Forget it. Forget “Hank" - was it? The turkey I loved.You are actually reading this. It’s not a dream. I loved a damn turkey. Wow. What else ya gonna DO in Haiti, ah? Forget that he was served for dinner one night, as Bruno, my mom’s drunkard boyfriend (who I adored, BTW) darted a nefarious grin my way, indeed he did. I called “exemption" on Hank, but, my plea, clearly it meant jack-all. The turkey I claimed as a pet, yep, he was now on my dinner plate. Ahhhh forget the minuscule shit. It only “mattered” to a wussy child, anyway. Let’s get to one “experience,” shall we? One Haiti experience that is probably worth remembering, just for the sheer culture shock and spectacle. A "Cirque Du Wha-HEY!”   that I doubt… any other spoiled, Park Avenue bitch boys got to see. I was a lucky bitch boy, it could be said. Let’s not forget that tidbit. I’d like to forget that Serge, one of the gents who brought me to the “experience,” was (quite a few years later) found tied to a tree, throat slit, ear-to-ear. OK. The experience. Yes. "The Experience." Part Two: “The first time I fainted." Voodoo rituals, to say the least? they are myriad.   I believe the one I endured ; I believe it was a: “Repel Demonic Spirits Ritual." Memories are brutal things, eh? Who  knows what the template for a memory... truly is. Fiction pales. This is, in my opinion? a “level two" (out of ten) true-life shocker. My age played the largest role, as did the country, itself. What a wake-up call. It is unique, and for this reason, and this reason alone, it is possibly worth revisiting. My mother was in her early 30’s. She always worked her ass off, and she partied just as hard. Prime period, Bardot-level beauty (beyond) who took advantage of "nature’s temporary gift.” Fuck you, nature…BTW. My mom was a hardcore player. Some nights I was passed around like an American football. This was one of those nights. “Want to see something endemic to Port-au-Prince?” - something to this effect, but in "layman-ese” ; obviously, he did not use the 50 cent word I supplied. I was with Serge (I forget…I really do forget! )and two others. I was taken to the ceremony by three men who worked for my mother’s sportswear company. Factory employees, oh yes, turned makeshift babysitters. Hoo-rah! My mom was (likely) at the Royal Haitian Casino and Hotel. High-end for Port-au-Prince, this joint was, indeed. Stepping into the Air Conditioned “Royal Haitian,” was akin to attending Epcot Center’s best attraction…if it had one, I mean. My mother was doing  “her thing…” (* never “caved" to self-deprivation, is all I will say) Me, I was in a filthy van. I recall being in that van, for what seemed like ages ; myself and three cackling adults, clearly amped that I was about to be “de-flowered"….erm...in some fashion. “Tonight, we are going to show you the real Haiti!”   Indeed, they were about to show me something, and boy, had I been giddily rapacious. “Authentic  Voodoo Show? Hell yes!” was at the forefront of my already-twisted, little skull. Let’s be honest. This was well before I went crazy. That happened at age 12 and beyond. This was unique, especially for a Park Avenue-born kid. Forget the amorphous mind of the over-zealous, ignorant child ;  good decisions , like batteries….never included. When I wrote: " these rituals were myriad,”or something to this effect, I was imagining a color spectrum. I was told (in 1977) Voodoo Ceremonials took place, for just about any occasion. I cannot verify this, nor have I ever cared to research it, via the web. This was a:  “you’re in over your head”  occasion, because it was: "pre-everything.” I retained innocence, I did,  in 1977. I know that I still had innocence, even when Haiti tried to rend it from me. “Pre-Hell-Dipped-Mikey, and His First Voodoo Ceremony.”   Honestly, this was akin to watching a Shirley Temple film ; I  simply had no comparisons - not yet. I  have to assume, however,   that this was one of the more “epic"(?)  voodoo ceremonies. I mean, if not, then what am I missing? Let us also forge...t that it took place in the middle of freaking nowhere, and in a perfectly grim setting. Central casting and location scout teams? Hell, they’d piss over this package, in it’s entirety. It’s 1977, babe! Woooooooo! I know nothing! Mikey knows nada! I have not even met my dick, yet! Shit, where was I….. The van pulled up where roads terminated, and tangled, foreboding woods claimed dominion, 360 degrees, everywhere you canted your head. So dark, those nights, all of them, in Port-au-Prince. Crickets, oddball,insect noises ;  not much else. We had to foot it to the makeshift “arena”. I recall those bleak woods… The flashlight… “Hold onto my arm” etc. Eventually, I could see the gleam ; the flicker of flames. As we drew near, upright pole-torches guided us past the narrow, dirt pathway, widening until we hit it. I remember thinking: "earth-arena.” I knew it was man-made, but it appeared jungle-birthed,  this stage…OH yeah. A stage forged in dark, dark soil. Serge made sure we got primo seats, as in: a huge-assed log, right in front of “Kaiju Circle" A damp, mossy log, one o...f maybe ten? They served as seats. Primo on the Primitiv-O. Our log. Our front row, ass-pain-delivery-conceyance log. She only required a few handkerchief thwacks , ending or hurling away, maybe a dozen, pesky, fire ants. A soil / dirt circle. A circle large enough to accommodate 20 people. Ornate the concentric designs were, beautiful, to be honest. Detailed, alien-scripture-ephemeral,  as the street paintings that are doomed by foot traffic. The drawings and writing (by stick, I assume) etched inwards from the outer ring, all the way to the center, where the “MC” would eventually take position. The ceremony was mostly comprised of locals, as I’m pretty certain tourists were:  in-absentia. the rumps on those stumps, the bums on that bark. I’m guessing, now... 30 people were in the audience? It was no... "Radiohead gig." Before I was carried to the van, and later briefed about the “finale” I missed… I can relay this much. The “MC” was a young(ish) woman, adorned with feathers and bones. Bone. Bones. Bone through her nose. Small prey. Mammalian = another guess. “Bone Gear.” Wherever her face and naked body ("mondo-regalia,” aside) was not tattooed or pierced by small scraps of metal, there was bone. Rat skulls?  I remember bone. Mucho Hueso. Suddenly came the drums. Loud as hell, this percussion. Man, there was a small army of drummers, banging these upright….tree-stump-type objects. If ever a time was right for earplugs, this was it. The jungle did not absorb that pummeling. I felt it in my body, like a recent, audiophile demo, at Soho's “Stereo Exchange." A beverage was passed around to the spectators, and my “handlers” ensured, and fairly aggressively, that I did not drink from that clay bowl. Four men. Four men Flanked the Priestess (I think this was what they called her), two on her left side, and two on her right side. A (very) young girl scurried forward, carrying some "Tim Burton-looking” cage, comprised of dead palm fronds and mossy bark, set it near the priestess’ feet, then darted back. Her entrance alacrity perfectly paced with her exit speed. Doves. Doves were crammed-tight! Doves! Doves , like concentration camp train victims….crammed in the most repulsive manner.i Thacrap-looking cage. Doves, super-stuffed, like ten marshmallows in a baby Raccoon’s fist. Trust me, I’ve seen it .Same visual. More drums. “When will they start?” The waiting. The endless, percussion-as-punishment. I wanted to bail. Then. Then, it just began. The squeeze. Why? to push the heart upwards - WTF? Then the bite. Surgical, her “bird-headings” were, Yeah. This gal was biting, then spitefully! It was ( a guess?) pre-PETA, but it felt...mega-pear-shaped. What am I even saying?  It was Haiti. 1977! Spitefully, she spat those dove heads, and in random directions. Bite…spit-quick-bubble-mouth. What the…? Ohhhhh! White morphs non-stop-red. Her “trick" was to make arterial spray, post-head-eject, rapidly retain dove blood in her mouth, then turn, to the drum beats…. Grand Guignol? I think this was a form of it. To the beat…. Bite, suck, hold, turn…spit… Spit the blood. SO much, the blood. Too much. Magic speed. Winter-squirrel. Puffy cheeks.  She spat the blood left, then right, spray-painting the faces of the four  men. I was having a rough time. I saw a grid. Black splotches, then a green, “electrified” grid, right tin front of my face. Still, I held on. I was definitely not happy. Then came those powders. I cannot tell you what was in them, nor what they were, no way. No tengo idea. I’d say 4-5 doves were given the "feral cat on PCP” treatment, then she blew various powders! Yes. Those mad powders, like sugar bombs exploding in the male faces. I was utterly amazed that the "dove-splosions" did not fell me. Amazed. I think my adult cohorts felt the same ; “Ballsy kid. Ballsy, for a spoiled, yankee bitch boy.” What did me in? It was that somnambulism “trick?” Was it a trick? Was it real? This was where I began to board the “Wooze Cruise.” One of the powders blown , obscured the male faces for a few seconds, then….THEN. Next, the powwders, and I’ll hazard another guesstimate:  2-minute absorption time. Those white powders. They made the dudes “Danse Macabre” . I am talking: some scary-assed, David-Lynch-type action. I was now in Batshit Town. Population: MIkeyboy, Grunts and howls. Pain. Ugly , animalistic sounds of agony, emitted from all four men. Freakish, gross, naked men, falling backwards, yet still-standing. Utterly insectoid. The unedited version of “The Exorcist.”   Regan doing the spider-walk. Four naked, full-body-paint-adorned , synchronized wig-outs. Jacob’s Ladder.. Esther Williams on shards of glass and bath salts. When the men's eyes rolled back, fiendishly displaying… I mean: "pop-out-level,”  hyper-bulging, white orbs ; yes indeed, I was getting my baaaaaaaaad freak-on, finally. The priestess summoned the men to do dog-like tricks. An arm was cut. She sucked from it…I barely recall my backflip off that fat-assed, wet log (eventually, I’d be doing that move endlessly, as a scuba diver, only, a tad more gracefully) I awoke in the grimy van that brought me to this netherworld. Ostensibly, I missed the highlight ie. “the finale.” I missed the part where the priestess and her charges were “resistant.” Example: They downed 4 bottles of Jack Daniels (apiece!) and  remained “sober.". The alcohol was inspected by the audience to prove it’s veracity etc. I missed this bit, and the wound-proof bit. I cannot tell you what I missed, as it was verbally detailed “at" me, I still had  (intermittent) ink splashes in my eyes. I was in and out of brief fainting spells. I did not have any interest, none,  in hearing more about the finale. I blew it. I never saw :The FULL Enchilada." Maybe? Someone cut one of the “performers” and there was no blood. Honestly, My 11-year old brain was knackered for the evening. I felt nauseated in a way that I never experienced (again), save for a night in Coney Island where my stripper girlfriend was performing at the sideshow, and her pal ( a writer, of course!) was retelling me his testicle injury horror story. OH, this is one that needs to be heard. That was faint number two. The only other times I have  “hit asphalt?” You don’t want to know. I am sure, rituals modern and old,  can be found online. I have no idea if there are or were(ever)  “rules or regulations,” in regards to said rituals. I saw what I saw, and it was unique, especially for Mikey, the 11-year old / previous dweller on “The Gold Coast of Manhattan." Haiti has beauty. There were amazing sights and indigent, yet upbeat people, but…. It’s a shit-show, by and large. It was awful then. and it’s worse , I believe, yes, worse now. I will not get political. I just forget. That’s what I do. I try to forget. It’s all locked up in my chest. I try to forget. It’s all locked up in my chest.