#We Are One: A musical written in 24 hours

[jelly-o630]

Listening to musical theatre is all fun and games until you find a musical that you’re pretty sure all of eight people have listened to and the only social media presence you can find for it is the creators themselves and the same 10 promotional images that every reviewer has and the only way you can talk about it is to trick (force) your friends and family to listen it to it

[doyouknowthismusical]

[cobragardens]

5 Good Omens Timefucks that Haunt Me

1.

Why is this here? Why is this line included? Is it just to add texture, to imply that larger world of corporate fascism of which Crowley and Aziraphale are subjects and victims and little worker bees? If so, why "They've started early" specifically? Why not "I wouldn't have expected that shrub to be the first to go" or "Aw, I liked that rock formation"?

Crawly doesn't make this comment in an offhand way: he sounds a bit taken aback and not thrilled that things have kicked off sooner than he anticipated. But it doesn't ultimately seem to make any difference to this scene, so why do we, the audience, need to know Hell started early?

2.

This one I'm not as confident will turn out to be significant, because iirc it appears in the book, which was a complete story when written, and because it serves a narrative purpose: it puts Agnes Nutter in charge of the situation, not her murderers. By backfooting Witchfinder Major Pulsifer, Agnes startles him enough she's able to walk past him without Pulsifer seizing her and discovering the extra 80 lbs of gunpowder and roofing nails in her skirts.

But. Agnes Nutter's sense of time is Nice and Accurate, and she notices the witchburning party are late and remarks on it to herself before she says anything to Pulsifer. So assuming a few minutes to position Agnes, tie her to the stake, and read the charges and conviction against her, Pulsifer and Agnes' neighbors are 12-15 minutes later than they should be. Why?

If the book answers this question, I don't recall; the show does not. And again, it seems to make no ultimate difference to this scene.

I'm not saying this was even purposely included in S1 as a timefuck. I am suggesting that as Gaiman seems to be fucking with time or timelines in this story, even if he and Pratchett didn't plan it like this when discussing the sequel, a retcon is hardly out of the question.

3.

As others have pointed out, Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 is 45-55 minutes long. If you're listening to it on 78s instead of LPs because you are a CRAZY PERSON, it's going to take you more like 1 hour 5 minutes, because one side of a 78 holds, at most, 5 minutes of music, so every 5 minutes you have to get up and flip or switch the record.

Shostakovich wrote his 5th symphony in response to criticism in the state newspaper (possibly penned by Stalin himself) that his previous work didn't suck the Communist Party's dick hard enough--the kind of criticism that put him in danger of being sent to prison or killed. At the time it was first performed in 1937, Symphony No. 5 was considered a massive triumph, walking the line perfectly between Shostakovich's artistic standards and the Communist Party's demands of him.

The choice is symbolically significant, but it's a symphony, so whoever's censoring it isn't censoring lyrics or information. Again, why? Why is a 45-55-minute symphony only 21 minutes long? What did the time thief do with the 24-34 minutes?

4.

Here's the rug that covers the portal to Heaven in Episode 1:

Here's the rug in Ep. 2:

Aziraphale does not change this rug for the party. We know this bc we see it in Episode 5 when Mrs Sandwich enters the bookshop and the party is in full swing:

Now here's Aziraphale moving the circular rug to expose the portal to Heaven:

But here's Crowley, putting the rug back:

Why are there two different rugs?

5.

Every end credits track has the first line of "Everyday" embedded in it But after the line from "Everyday," at the end of Episode 4, the theme skips twice like a vinyl record, and then is stopped by whoever controls the turntable and restarted, with several seconds of music having been skipped over.

This is not the first time it has mattered to a character in Good Omens what we in the audience see and hear. I argue here that God asks Aziraphale what he did with the flaming sword She gave him in order to show us the audience who Aziraphale is. God also addresses us the audience directly in S1, not only narrating about characters omnisciently but speaking to us about Herself in first person.

Now we evidently have a second character who has gone meta and is changing what we the audience experience of this story, and--indications are good--the story itself.

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

July LU Write-a-Thon: 351,092 Words in One Day!

On July 1, we hosted our second monthly LU Write-a-thon (organized by @not-freyja and @hotcheetohatredwastaken and joined by their new mods @noorahqar, @a-manicured-lawn, and @winterfen). The purpose of this event was to write as many productive words—words that furthered yourself, the LU writing community at large, or your own stories—within 24 hours as humanly possible. 

We had a whopping 90+ participants as opposed to our previous 16 - none of us expected such a large turnout, and were suitably unprepared 😅 We’ll definitely be making a lot of changes to accommodate that many people during the next Write-a-Thon, occurring August 1st. Thank you all for your patience!

But, until next month, here’s the awards and titles earned by each participant, as voted upon by the Discord server through an anonymous survey. The mods read through all your hundreds of submissions (thank you guys so much!) and picked either the highest voted title or the funniest custom submission for each person, as we found appropriate. First up is the winner’s circle, then the clubs, and then everybody else in alphabetical order right below this readmore!

The Winner’s Circle (5 Most Wordiest)

20,037 “Writer of All Time” and “Most Likely to Make 1K become 100K” (As can be seen in all its glory in your Aspects AU) @tashacee: You took advantage of Freyja and Cheeto’s beefing about who would be first and snapped up the win right from under their noses. Well played! 

20,011 “Writer of Some of the Time” and “Pen and Paper (Scritch... Scratchy?)” @hotcheetohatredwastaken: Missed the mark by juuust a bit, for the second time in a row. Cheeto, you suck. (:3 –Cheeto) (Qar wrote this, for reference!). Also wrote for most of the marathon on pen and paper!

17,491 “Writer of Last Time” (for winning last month and then failing to defend their title) and “The FourShadow-er of all Time” (for the unholy amount of Chekov’s Guns they leave lying around loaded in their docs) @not-freyja: you are the most autistic about Legend. Nerd.

13,203 “Will Make You Cry” and “Captain of the Twilight Angst Tag on Ao3” @somer-writes: Boosting the Twilight economy, and we’re all happy about it. Also the second-funniest person in the server, with the second-most stars!

13,000 “AU Collector” and “Four Enjoyer” @zarvasace: Whether they're heroes with disabilities, space rangers, or vampires, if Mina wrote it, the boys will be written well.

Clubs

Now while everyone’s accomplishments as individuals were nothing to sneeze at, teamwork does in fact make the dream work. A few lovely people made a couple of equally lovely groups, either by their own choice or as assigned by peer review.

Aimed for the Funny Numbers Club

“Literally Satan” @allwayswildchild: with exactly 6666 words, you deserve every bit of this cursed title. 

“Lawn Blart Mall Cop” and “Qar's Mom in a Moment of Weakness Apparently (And Then Qar’s Sister in a Moment of Un-Weakness)” @a-manicured-lawn: The latter explains itself. Apparently, the vision of Lawn segwaying around is amusing. [Some people just can’t appreciate the beauty of a white shirt, tie, and glorious moped… ~Lawn]

“The Reincarnated” @defenestration13: Hadn't written in six months but then reappeared to write multiple thousand words. Good job.

“Multimedia Powerhouse” @passerinesoncaffeine: The art, the writing, Raven's got it all! Painting, analyzing music, commenting, whatever you touch it turns to gold.

“Dark Miette” goes to @rebornofstars: An inside joke that I don’t understand. Also thought you should know that you got [insert bee pun].

“The Memer” and “Literally Wind” @savimatteo2810: These are related.

“The Quoter” @whatvioletdoes-blog: For spending the event harvesting quotable quotes for their chat-fic.

(freyja overshot all potential funny numbers, but is a member at heart)

Most Likely to Get Fangirled (Gender Neutral) Over Club

“Literally Hyrule” @across-violet-skies: Also called the Spunky Sidekick and a calming jasmine tea type person. Hopefully your ghost pepper recovery goes well. 

“The Snippeter” @imperialkatwala: For sharing so many snippets to us hungry folk. Thank you kindly.

“Friend Shaped” @polynomialpandemic: A friend to all. Also a “Snippeter” - thank you for feeding the masses!

“Four Tormentor” @undertheopensky: For really obvious reasons. Also managed to make Freyja scream for 10 minutes with your mere presence alone!

Other Friend Groups

“Sad Wet Cat Club” @cinis0 and @lunaopus, you two seem to have nominated one another, so you get this club all to yourselves! However, I would love to know what the talk of forgetting that the Queen died was about…. (Qar has requested to be an honorary member of this club)

@awildsilver and @four-eyed-nerd, you two get to come together as “Four-Eyed-Nerd’s Rat” and “AWildSilver’s Cat,” which is I think our favorite group of all in this month’s running. I do have some additional questions for you two, however, about a mention of the bee movie as an original work (allowed as long as it’s not copy pasted and also hilarious) for you Wild and the title “Honey I shrunk the Links” for you, Four. 

The Community Support Team

“The Commentator of All Time” @1-renegade: To directly quote, “Ain't NOBODY give better feedback and comments than lawlessland.” 

“Will Make You Cry” @artsyanonymity: Anonymity is the sweetest and kindest commenter in existence! SHE. WILL. MAKE. YOU. CRy. Writes the nicest comments and they make me (and apparently several others) cry

“The Encouragement Itself” @cat-at-a-writing-desk: For encouraging others to reach their goals. We appreciate you!

“Drill Sergeant” @gintrinsic-writing: Made Qar get 5k and scared everyone else into writing. (You did it! I got 5k! The fear (with funny intonation) dragged me over the finish line -Qar)

“Drawer of A Thousand Words” @la-sera: Ruler of the Legend and Hyrule brotherhood, inspirer of writers, and the spreader of so much love with your art this Fan Joy July with the art you spent the marathon working on. Can’t wait to see it all as the month goes on.

“The Reader of all Time” @life-in-winter: Or as you all probably know her, passerine44, the writer of the best ao3 comments of all time. Thea, you walk into a digital room and every writer there makes heart eyes at you. Cannot wait to read the writing you’ve been working on (and leave a comment) to return the favor.

“The Respondent of All Time” @silvrash-797: Silvrash had over four months of unanswered ao3 comments that she caught up with, congrats!

“Lives up to the Screen Name” @sunny-porridge: To quote: “Sunny is 100% a ray of sunshine and anyone who says otherwise can FIGHT ME” and I think we all agree.

“The Wildest Supporter.” @twilightangel83: Supported people and sent a lot of Wild emojis, so much so that we started picturing you as Wild!

“Poet” and “Master of the Shrimp Check” @winterfen: Writes good poetry, and also made sure that everyone was appropriately fed, hydrated, and rested for this event. 

Transfer Students

“I don’t work here, Lady” goes to bArk who neither has a tumblr nor writes for this fandom, but showed up and had fun anyways. Thanks for joining us!

“He Who Finished His Book” goes to jr_for_potus44 (not on Tumblr). Congrats!

“Split Screen” goes to @straight-outta-hobbiton for writing two fics on two screens at the same time, neither of which were LU. Frightening.

The Silent Ones

@pelicanpig, @mmelete, @wayfayrr, @raeofsky, @summaryscar @sunkissedkales: You guys came, you wrote, you did not elaborate. How mysterious your aura is (positive, deeply positive.)

"The Almost Silent One" @the-au-collector: Talked before and after, but not during the event. Probably too busy writing, or busy in general - good job either way!

Everybody else!

“Frequent Flier (WPM)” @anime-obsessed: For participating in so many sprints. Also earned “vocaloid enjoyer.”

“Keyboard Warrior” @august-the-friend: You fought autocorrect and lost 3-0, but it was a valiant fight nonetheless. You did great.

“Artist turned Writer” @aurora-boreas-borealis: Took a break from streaming to write—a huge shout out for all your hard work and your help with colors! (~the actual pigments, not the Links ~Lawn) 

“Literally Sun” @beesandhoney1219: Warmer than sunlight, sweeter than sugar, and absolutely obsessed with Sky’s girlfriend.

“Most Likely to Include Raccoons in their Fic” @bittirsweeteer: They Who Has Given Legend Espresso (thank you for your service).

“Last Minute Vidow” @deleetrix: Something that should always be encouraged. Thank you for feeding us.

“Stargiver” @emberlylion: For starring in a lot of posts, especially cat pics. Thank you for your service.

Move over Time, @estelian-01 “Will Fight Majora and Win” and then go back to studying.

“Studious Student Who (has not) Studied” @gerudoevernight: Self nominated for “Studious Student who Studied” for hitting their goal while in school. The mod team disagreed with the accuracy of that title and affectionately chose this one instead. Good job hitting your goal!

“The Outliner” @gia-d: Accidentally wrote a first draft. Also think it should be noted that everyone is convinced you either could kill a god or that you carry one around in your pocket.

“Onomatopoeia Outrage” @haloburns: Who debated the word “ow” so hard they inflicted it on the people around them.

“The Scholar” @irenkaferalkitty: For her extensive collection of well-researched data, presented in charts, documents and yes, excel sheets. We appreciate you.

“Most Improved” @labyrinthdancer: Their writing has improved a lot since they started posting! also they write really dark twilight & the chain fics. Being a new writer is scary, but they kept at it and are doing so well!

“Writer of Most Cursed Victorian Child” aka their take on Ravio, is @lele5429 with their first ever fic, which is as gorgeous in words as your art is in ink.

“The Hype Man (gender neutral)/Moral Support” @lemoncatssss: For all the encouragement that you gave others. Also the cat photos. Especially the cat photos.

“The accidental friend acquirer” @lennsart: For somehow befriending literally every single person you talk to.

“Severe Case of Clacking” @lerikwrites: You know why. Pennies in a washing machine my friend.

“Hyrule Hurter” goes to @linkiscool333: We all have the blorbo we love to put in the blender, but no one blends Rulie like you do.

“Marcus Actually Writes!?” @marcusdoodlesalot: For a second month in a row, some of us are still befuddled that Marcus is actually a writer, and not just an artist. Hard to believe that someone can have that much talent in both fields.

“Soup Soup Soup Soup Soup (Soup Soup Soup Soup Soup)” @marsnoodlesoup: I... do not know what this means. Congrats, it seems you’re soup.

“The Veteran” @musical-chan: For sharing stories of the early days of fandom. Back in my day but the most positive way possible

“Artist Turned Writer” @mysticstars105: Came out and wrote a whopping 400 words, which is so many words especially when you’re new. Gold Star!

“Art Fight Pre-Gaming” @nebulapaws: For their talk of Art Fight. Hope you have fun participating this month!

“Resident Audiophile” @needfantasticstories: Not just for writing with speech-to-text all day, but for your constant enthusiastic screaming about Epic the musical.

“Most likely to fight God and Win” and “The Modderrrrrr” @noorahqar: Who is actually Sky. Not with the sleepy part though. She actually wrote so much about Sky that he stole all her sleepy. Number one on the starboard, with the proud title of MVM (Most Valuable Mod) for sticking the landing as midnight hit. Also the one with “The Most Sigmas to Grindset” whatever… whatever that means. (Please help what does that mean?) 

“Picture Perfect Exhaustion” @nyastri: Their PFP (Four Doubled Over, hands on knees) combined with the announcement they'd reached their writing goal at the end of the marathon really just sold the picture for me. Well done.

“The Sleepy One” @ocha-blue: who justifiably went to bed as soon as they finished. (Hope you're recovered by now.)

“First Time Fic Writer” @peepthatbish: for breaking into the fic scene and boosting morale for our mod team, especially Lawn. We appreciate you!

“Slow And Steady (WPM)” @pokegeek151: Who was chugging away all day long.

“Doomed by the Narrative” @ra-archives: Google docs acting up, cat sitting on lap, and yet you persisted. Good job.

“My Little Friend Who I Love (This Is Qar Btw) (This Is Part Of The Title)” and “Wordsmith” @rosehipandroots: This is a direct copy paste from your submissions, Rose. Hope you enjoy it. But your amazing descriptions really make you a wordsmith. “The SkyBoy Enjoyer of All Time” @sapphicseasapphire: for your lovely art and writing of the boy!

“Task Succeeded Successfully” @screaming-but-i-have-four-swords: was an artist turned writer that tried to write words, and did! Good job.

“Artist Turned… More Artist” @seaotter-17: We were told you write descriptions like a poet, but in this event, you were most recognizable by your drawings of Nina the cat. Thank you for sharing. 

The “Person with a Passion for Pudding” (which is definitely an inside joke I do not understand, so I hope it makes you laugh) @somanyfanficssolittletime: Thanks for participating!

“The Fic Reccer of all Time” @staring-at-a-blank-page: For recommending so many fics, their own and others, up to read. Thank you!

“The Drabbler” @tenderleavesbob: For their lovely drabbles, of which they wrote around 10k of. The title is appropriate - it seems your drabbles have taken Tumblr (and the participants in this survey) by storm!

“100% Bunny Accurate Fiction”  @toyouhellohowareyou: writer of the most rabbit-fact-checked fics of all time by our own Bunny Lord [Beloved Pet and Bunny Boy (Legend) Himself]

“The Podficcer of All Time” @unexpectedstormy: For podfic making, promoting, and educating. And if that wasn’t enough fae is also our very own “Dragon Tamer” who spent the event working on their HTTYD WIP!

“The Dashshunder” @vivalaplutothedachshund: For sharing your lovely menace of a dog Pluto with us all. We also appreciate you both in the chats and in our rampage to give PolynomialPandemic 109 hugs. 

“Mod Emotional Support. We love you” @wanderlustmagician: You know what you did, and Cheeto’s firstborn deservedly belongs to you.

“Word Weaver” and “Fanfiction Foul---was writing at work instead of working” @weavingstarlight: Your words sparkle as bright as you do, glitter jar.

“Literally First (also shared cat pics)” @witchdoctor39 : Even Hylia can’t hold a candle to how much you love that poor poor man!

Thank all of you for participating, we appreciate each and every one of you so so so much! Please note that we had 90+ participants, and as such, there is probably guaranteed to be some mistakes on the list above. If you find any typos or pronoun goofs or anyone that was put on the list twice or missing or under the wrong name or put under the wrong name or any error that comes with having different discord and tumblr names or if you were left off the list in error or if you want to request a different name than the one you received or you want to be put into or removed from one club or another or anything else that could have gone wrong—please feel free to contact @hotcheetohatredwastaken or @not-freyja with your concerns here on tumblr!

Again, a big thank you to everyone for coming to the event from all of us on the mod team! Can’t wait to see you guys next month! And stay tuned---there will be another post with more information about the next event within the next couple of weeks!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Cloudburst

Enshittification isn’t inevitable: under different conditions and constraints, the old, good internet could have given way to a new, good internet. Enshittification is the result of specific policy choices: encouraging monopolies; enabling high-speed, digital shell games; and blocking interoperability.

First we allowed companies to buy up their competitors. Google is the shining example here: having made one good product (search), they then fielded an essentially unbroken string of in-house flops, but it didn’t matter, because they were able to buy their way to glory: video, mobile, ad-tech, server management, docs, navigation…They’re not Willy Wonka’s idea factory, they’re Rich Uncle Pennybags, making up for their lack of invention by buying out everyone else:

https://locusmag.com/2022/03/cory-doctorow-vertically-challenged/

But this acquisition-fueled growth isn’t unique to tech. Every administration since Reagan (but not Biden! more on this later) has chipped away at antitrust enforcement, so that every sector has undergone an orgy of mergers, from athletic shoes to sea freight, eyeglasses to pro wrestling:

https://www.whitehouse.gov/cea/written-materials/2021/07/09/the-importance-of-competition-for-the-american-economy/

But tech is different, because digital is flexible in a way that analog can never be. Tech companies can “twiddle” the back-ends of their clouds to change the rules of the business from moment to moment, in a high-speed shell-game that can make it impossible to know what kind of deal you’re getting:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/27/knob-jockeys/#bros-be-twiddlin

To make things worse, users are banned from twiddling. The thicket of rules we call IP ensure that twiddling is only done against users, never for them. Reverse-engineering, scraping, bots — these can all be blocked with legal threats and suits and even criminal sanctions, even if they’re being done for legitimate purposes:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Enhittification isn’t inevitable but if we let companies buy all their competitors, if we let them twiddle us with every hour that God sends, if we make it illegal to twiddle back in self-defense, we will get twiddled to death. When a company can operate without the discipline of competition, nor of privacy law, nor of labor law, nor of fair trading law, with the US government standing by to punish any rival who alters the logic of their service, then enshittification is the utterly foreseeable outcome.

To understand how our technology gets distorted by these policy choices, consider “The Cloud.” Once, “the cloud” was just a white-board glyph, a way to show that some part of a software’s logic would touch some commodified, fungible, interchangeable appendage of the internet. Today, “The Cloud” is a flashing warning sign, the harbinger of enshittification.

When your image-editing tools live on your computer, your files are yours. But once Adobe moves your software to The Cloud, your critical, labor-intensive, unrecreatable images are purely contingent. At at time, without notice, Adobe can twiddle the back end and literally steal the colors out of your own files:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

The finance sector loves The Cloud. Add “The Cloud” to a product and profits (money you get for selling something) can turn into rents (money you get for owning something). Profits can be eroded by competition, but rents are evergreen:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

No wonder The Cloud has seeped into every corner of our lives. Remember your first iPod? Adding music to it was trivial: double click any music file to import it into iTunes, then plug in your iPod and presto, synched! Today, even sophisticated technology users struggle to “side load” files onto their mobile devices. Instead, the mobile duopoly — Apple and Google, who bought their way to mobile glory and have converged on the same rent-seeking business practices, down to the percentages they charge — want you to get your files from The Cloud, via their apps. This isn’t for technological reasons, it’s a business imperative: 30% of every transaction that involves an app gets creamed off by either Apple or Google in pure rents:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/red-team-blues-another-audiobook-that-amazon-wont-sell/posts/3788112

And yet, The Cloud is undeniably useful. Having your files synch across multiple devices, including your collaborators’ devices, with built-in tools for resolving conflicting changes, is amazing. Indeed, this feat is the holy grail of networked tools, because it’s how programmers write all the software we use, including software in The Cloud.

If you want to know how good a tool can be, just look at the tools that toolsmiths use. With “source control” — the software programmers use to collaboratively write software — we get a very different vision of how The Cloud could operate. Indeed, modern source control doesn’t use The Cloud at all. Programmers’ workflow doesn’t break if they can’t access the internet, and if the company that provides their source control servers goes away, it’s simplicity itself to move onto another server provider.

This isn’t The Cloud, it’s just “the cloud” — that whiteboard glyph from the days of the old, good internet — freely interchangeable, eminently fungible, disposable and replaceable. For a tool like git, Github is just one possible synchronization point among many, all of which have a workflow whereby programmers’ computers automatically make local copies of all relevant data and periodically lob it back up to one or more servers, resolving conflicting edits through a process that is also largely automated.

There’s a name for this model: it’s called “Local First” computing, which is computing that starts from the presumption that the user and their device is the most important element of the system. Networked servers are dumb pipes and dumb storage, a nice-to-have that fails gracefully when it’s not available.

The data structures of source-code are among the most complicated formats we have; if we can do this for code, we can do it for spreadsheets, word-processing files, slide-decks, even edit-decision-lists for video and audio projects. If local-first computing can work for programmers writing code, it can work for the programs those programmers write.

Local-first computing is experiencing a renaissance. Writing for Wired, Gregory Barber traces the history of the movement, starting with the French computer scientist Marc Shapiro, who helped develop the theory of “Conflict-Free Replicated Data” — a way to synchronize data after multiple people edit it — two decades ago:

https://www.wired.com/story/the-cloud-is-a-prison-can-the-local-first-software-movement-set-us-free/

Shapiro and his co-author Nuno Preguiça envisioned CFRD as the building block of a new generation of P2P collaboration tools that weren’t exactly serverless, but which also didn’t rely on servers as the lynchpin of their operation. They published a technical paper that, while exiting, was largely drowned out by the release of GoogleDocs (based on technology built by a company that Google bought, not something Google made in-house).

Shapiro and Preguiça’s work got fresh interest with the 2019 publication of “Local-First Software: You Own Your Data, in spite of the Cloud,” a viral whitepaper-cum-manifesto from a quartet of computer scientists associated with Cambridge University and Ink and Switch, a self-described “industrial research lab”:

https://www.inkandswitch.com/local-first/static/local-first.pdf

The paper describes how its authors — Martin Kleppmann, Adam Wiggins, Peter van Hardenberg and Mark McGranaghan — prototyped and tested a bunch of simple local-first collaboration tools built on CFRD algorithms, with the goal of “network optional…seamless collaboration.” The results are impressive, if nascent. Conflicting edits were simpler to resolve than the authors anticipated, and users found URLs to be a good, intuitive way of sharing documents. The biggest hurdles are relatively minor, like managing large amounts of change-data associated with shared files.

Just as importantly, the paper makes the case for why you’d want to switch to local-first computing. The Cloud is not reliable. Companies like Evernote don’t last forever — they can disappear in an eyeblink, and take your data with them:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/7/9/23789012/evernote-layoff-us-staff-bending-spoons-note-taking-app

Google isn’t likely to disappear any time soon, but Google is a graduate of the Darth Vader MBA program (“I have altered the deal, pray I don’t alter it any further”) and notorious for shuttering its products, even beloved ones like Google Reader:

https://www.theverge.com/23778253/google-reader-death-2013-rss-social

And while the authors don’t mention it, Google is also prone to simply kicking people off all its services, costing them their phone numbers, email addresses, photos, document archives and more:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/22/allopathic-risk/#snitches-get-stitches

There is enormous enthusiasm among developers for local-first application design, which is only natural. After all, companies that use The Cloud go to great lengths to make it just “the cloud,” using containerization to simplify hopping from one cloud provider to another in a bid to stave off lock-in from their cloud providers and the enshittification that inevitably follows.

The nimbleness of containerization acts as a disciplining force on cloud providers when they deal with their business customers: disciplined by the threat of losing money, cloud companies are incentivized to treat those customers better. The companies we deal with as end-users know exactly how bad it gets when a tech company can impose high switching costs on you and then turn the screws until things are almost-but-not-quite so bad that you bolt for the doors. They devote fantastic effort to making sure that never happens to them — and that they can always do that to you.

Interoperability — the ability to leave one service for another — is technology’s secret weapon, the thing that ensures that users can turn The Cloud into “the cloud,” a humble whiteboard glyph that you can erase and redraw whenever it suits you. It’s the greatest hedge we have against enshittification, so small wonder that Big Tech has spent decades using interop to clobber their competitors, and lobbying to make it illegal to use interop against them:

https://locusmag.com/2019/01/cory-doctorow-disruption-for-thee-but-not-for-me/

Getting interop back is a hard slog, but it’s also our best shot at creating a new, good internet that lives up the promise of the old, good internet. In my next book, The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation (Verso Books, Sept 5), I set out a program fro disenshittifying the internet:

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

The book is up for pre-order on Kickstarter now, along with an independent, DRM-free audiobooks (DRM-free media is the content-layer equivalent of containerized services — you can move them into or out of any app you want):

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

Meanwhile, Lina Khan, the FTC and the DoJ Antitrust Division are taking steps to halt the economic side of enshittification, publishing new merger guidelines that will ban the kind of anticompetitive merger that let Big Tech buy its way to glory:

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2023/07/biden-administration-corporate-merger-antitrust-guidelines/674779/

The internet doesn’t have to be enshittified, and it’s not too late to disenshittify it. Indeed — the same forces that enshittified the internet — monopoly mergers, a privacy and labor free-for-all, prohibitions on user-side twiddling — have enshittified everything from cars to powered wheelchairs. Not only should we fight enshittification — we must.

Back my anti-enshittification Kickstarter here!

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad- free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/03/there-is-no-cloud/#only-other-peoples-computers

Image: Drahtlos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Motherboard_Intel_386.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

—

cdsessums (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Monsoon_Season_Flagstaff_AZ_clouds_storm.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[weeeeeekly]

“are you okay?” – mark lee x gn!reader

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blurb On Earth-127, Mark is an ordinary biomed major at Neo Culture Institute of Technology, but when he’s not studying for class, he’s out saving New York City as Spider-Man. The job is hard, but he manages it. It also doesn’t hurt that his new friend is just his type.

info not edited, no afab/fem mention, mainly gender neutral, no reader body shape mention, no use of y/n, swearing, non-idol au, college au, college student!mark, spiderman!mark (obvi), reader is assigned lactose intolerant. johnny & jaehyun as mark’s besties. mark & reader are 22 and johnny & jaehyun are 24. everyone else is 21. ft. jungwoo & 00 line of nct/riize as frat bros. loosely based off a combo of the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house, 200 music video, & superman ii

WARNINGS!!! SFW but MDNI 18+ blog, kinda suggestive but nothing explicit in this, swearing, mentions of almost dying, not proofread just pure free flowing thought, mention of vaping (not by mark or reader), & mention of consuming alcohol

wc: 7.8k

author’s note !! HAPPY belated MFING BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL BOYF MARK LEE. i meant to post this right after 200 came out, then for his birthday, and now it’s finally finished as an early birthday present for myself… this is very much self-indulgent.

a passion project if you will. i hope there are others that also have spider-mark brain rot. ESPECIALLY AFTER 200!!! it was bad before like in the ncit house video, but it’s even worse now. a real labor of love except everything i do is a labor of love because why would i write about something i’m not passionate about in my free time.

this is FICTION!!!!! everything is made up by me or inspired by the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house video, & mark’s 200 music video. the stuff written out is not meant to be a representation of the people, places, or ideas mentioned.

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Mark loves his job.

Nothing made him happier than donning the red and blue one-piece suit with the arachnoid symbol on the center of the chest and pulling down the matching mask. He was pretty proud of his sewing skills. Hopefully the elderly owner of the downtown fabric store never puts the puzzle pieces together.

He was still fairly new to being Spider-Man – only being bitten at the beginning of last semester and using the summer to work out the kinks – this spring semester would show his improvement.

His school schedule was class schedule was calm with classes only on Tuesday and Thursday in the morning and evening with the rest online. With the perfect amount of time throughout busy days to sneak away to patrol the city. The rest of the weekdays were dedicated to working at the college radio station. It allowed Mark to work around his own schedule as he could pre-record segments and cue up pre-made playlists.

The morning of the first day of the new semester was looking like an average day, helping civilians with minimal tasks like crossing busy streets and saving pets in trees.

Swinging to university was his favorite form of transportation as it was convenient but at the same time fun as sailing through the air was incomparable to any other experience. Mark landed on the roof of the old bell tower as he quickly changed into a pair of clothes he stashed in a hidden backpack on the ceiling ledge. Nothing too exciting, just a maroon tee, brown cargo pants, and black converse. He made quick work to stash his suit inside his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

He walked down the spiral staircase as he put on his headphones and checked his phone.

            apartment 721

johnny dude r u coming to shoot some hoops?

jaehyun are we playing basketball or should I skip for football practice?

mark be there in 5

Mark raced across the university lawn, passing unassuming students that would never know his secret. The early morning hours provided more security for his secret as most people around him were either too busy rushing to their 8 AM lecture or too tired from pulling another all-nighter.

When he reached the basketball courts, Mark tucked his bag in between Jaehyun’s massive athletic bag and Johnny’s decked out in pins and patches. The duo was goofing off with a basketball as they made obnoxious moves before shooting for the hoop.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.”

Johnny pauses as he turns toward his best friend before tossing the ball. Mark effortlessly catches it due to his built-up reflexes from stopping local crimes.

“Yo guess who finally decided to show up.” Johnny remarks as Mark makes a 3 pointer.

Jaehyun and Johnny both share a look as the former greets Mark, “You’ve gotten really good at basketball in a short amount of time… like crazy good.”

“Yeah man. You used to not be able to even get the ball in while standing still, but now you’re even better than Mr. Team Captain over here.”

Mark shrugs as he dribbles the ball, “I’m not even close to Jaehyun’s level, dude. He’s the best player.”

“Okay then go to the other side of the court and make it in.”

Mark looks at Johnny as Jaehyun chugs some water but gives in as he walks to the end of the court.

Mark is pretty sure that his sharp reflexes only work for short distances or when he’s out being Spider-Man, so the dare shouldn’t tip his best friends off. Mark dribbles the ball a bit before throwing the ball in the direction of the hoop.

Luckily, the ball goes over the hoop and proving to Johnny and Jaehyun that he still sucks at basketball, but unluckily almost hits a passerby.

You.

“Airball!”

You turn to the source of the noise as you let out a surprised yell as you duck to avoid the rouge basketball, falling to the ground and letting out a string of curses. Mark rushes over after his Spidey senses went off, shooting a ball of webs to knock it off its course of hitting you.

“Are you okay?”

You look up to see a concerned Mark as he helps you up, “Dude, I am so sorry. That could have ended really badly. Did you get hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Johnny and Jaehyun follow Mark to check up on you as you stare at the 3 attractive men paying too much attention to you.

“I’m okay, really. I didn’t even get hit. Just was caught off guard.”

The trio are unconvinced as they inspect your arms and head. Mark is focused on checking for any injury – even a millimeter of a scratch – on your right arm as Jaehyun checks the range of motion on your left arm and Johnny is asking you how many fingers he’s holding up.

“I’m not hurt, but I’ll still get checked up the clinic.” You bargain to get the attractive strangers to stop dotting over you.

“I’ll walk you!” Mark volunteers as he grabs your backpack off the floor and waves bye to his friends. Johnny and Jaehyun refuse to leave until they exchange their number with you to check up but also to make it up to you later. You tell them that it’s not necessary, but the pair insist as Mark gets you to leave.

He quickly introduces himself and you do it in return. Walking to the clinic was peaceful as both you and Mark’s steps were in sync. The crisp spring air helped calm your nerves. You know that you weren’t hurt but it would be best to get a check-up by a nurse.

“I’m really sorry again.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Let’s just get you to the clinic.”

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After a quick check-up with a nurse, you are deemed “okay” with no external or internal injuries. Mark gives you back your backpack as you thank him and are returned with another long string of apologies.

“Here, let me – no us – make it up to you.” Mark opens his phone to create a group chat between the four of you.

            we’re sorry

            mark if ur free this week we would like to buy u lunch

            bc dinner sounds like a date

            not that we wouldn’t date u

            u seem great !

            this is mark btw

            johnny what mark is trying to say is that we don’t want to make you uncomfortable

but we also want to make it up to you so lunch this week - johnny

            jaehyun it’s jaehyun i know a great café w vegan options

            you you guys really don’t have to make it up to me

            i’m okay !! a nurse checked me

            johnny thank god ur not hurt

“So, are you free this week?”

You look away from your phone at Mark staring at you. You quickly look away at the students walking past you. You feel nervous as Mark is cute and being near him is not helping your poor heart.

“Yeah, I can do Wednesday or this weekend.”

You have to work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with your two in-person classes on the other days and your two fully online classes spread throughout the week. Luckily, working at the bookstore on campus was flexible and allowed you to complete homework whenever you had free time.

“I know this is an annoying question, but what’s your year and major?”

“I’m a sophomore majoring in Health Sciences.”

Mark’s eyes light up, “I’m a sophomore too! But I’m a Biomed major. We’re kinda in similar majors.”

“We might even have a class together.” You joke and let out a laugh, but your mouth shuts as Mark has his printed schedule in hands and extended in your direction.

Your joke turns out to be true as you both share the same evening class on Tuesday and Thursday. Which is a good thing because at least you know someone in that class. A friend possibly.

“Do you work?”

“I work at the radio, so if you ever tune into 27.1 FM you will hear playlists I put together.”

“Ugh, that sounds like such a fun job. I work at the bookstore. I mean, don’t get me wrong I like it there, but it’s never busy for my shifts.”

A notification on Mark’s phone makes him freeze up, but before you can ask what’s wrong he quickly bids you goodbye as he rushes off. You decide to head to work and hope that nothing else out of the ordinary happens today.

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On the plus side, your shared class with Mark has been going well so far. During the first class the day after you met him, you got to the classroom early and saved him a seat.

You watch as people slowly trickle into class as you held out a small hope that Mark would want to sit next to you. The class was almost full with just a handful of seats left – two directly in front of the professor’s podium, one in the very back by the other door, and the one you’ve been saving. He arrives at the last minute, and you watch him scan the room, hopefully looking for you, but once your eyes meet and Mark grins, your heart started racing.

Squeezing between people already in their seats, he reaches the open seat as you move your backpack from the chair to under the table. The professor starts the first day lecture of going over the syllabus, but you tune them out as your attention was… elsewhere.

Mark sits next to you, typing on his laptop as the professor talks. His outfit is a simple green hoodie with tan cargo pants and beat up black converse, yet the outfit compliments him. His hair is fluffy and a little messy as he runs his hand through it in an attempt to fix it. You notice that he’s breathing hard like he ran to get to class. You reach into your backpack to grab your water bottle and place it next to his hand. Mark pauses from typing notes as you turn your head back to the professor.

“Thanks.” He mumbles as he drinks the water.

“Don’t worry, I have another water bottle in my car. You can just give it back to me next class.” You whisper back while pretending to be interested in the professor’s grading policy.

When the second class rolls around, you’re surprised to see Mark is the first person in class, sitting in the same spot with his backpack on the seat you were sitting in last time and your water bottle on the table.

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Saturday is the only day you are all free for lunch. Jaehyun, who keeps telling you to call him Jae, promises that this lunch will be the best lunch of your life and how he knows a worker. He’s brought it up every time he saw you while you were working. Johnny was no help either as he kept asking you super specific questions you would have no idea how to answer.

Johnny leans on a display table full of notebooks while flipping through a psychology textbook, “What kind of wood is this table?”

You let out another deep sigh as you put on your customer service voice to answer yet another question from Johnny Suh. “Sorry, I don’t know.”

“Do you know someone who would?”

Johnny smirks as he puts on his sunglasses. You turn around to reshelve new chemistry textbooks when a tap on your shoulder has you seeing Jaehyun holding a cookbook open.

“Do you like” He turns the cookbook back to himself as he squints, “Maultaschen?”

“What do you know about Germany?”

Jaehyun closes the cookbook as he shoots you his best dimpled smile, “Nothing.”

“Guys, I’m trying to work.”

“Yeah, and we’re being customers.”

Johnny sasses you as he pushes the cart of textbooks away from you. “Don’t pretend that we don’t make your shifts better.”

You can’t argue that because it is true, but you’re also afraid that your boss might think you’re slacking and goofing around with friends on the clock.

“I do love it when you guys come see me while I’m working, but I don’t want my boss to think I’m slacking.”

Jaehyun leans on your shoulder as he looks around the empty bookstore. “Bro, you’re the best employee here by far, but if your boss thinks otherwise, we can give a good review.”

“You? Slacking?” Johnny lets out a laugh as puts some textbooks on the highest shelf. “Slacking is scared of you. And Spider-Man.”

“Here he goes.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes as Johnny scoffs.

“Spider-Man is the coolest superhero ever. I’m jealous of all the people that get to see him work in real time.”

“Spider-Man?”

Johnny’s jaw drops, “Yo… you don’t know Spider-Man? You know, the masked guy in blue and red and has a spider sign on his chest. Stops bank robbers and saves people in car crashes. The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

“Oh… his name is Spider-Man?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna brag, but” Johnny leans closer to you, “I basically coined the name. The story’s really cool and super long, so I’ll save it for lunch.”

The other brunette fixes his backpack straps, “I should head to basketball practice soon, but we’ll text you later with the details. See you tomorrow.”

The duo leaves you to finish your tasks, but with less work as they helped while talking to you. You can’t help fighting the smile on your face at the idea of having plans with friends.

Lunch! With friends! Friends that you made in university and not the same friends you had back home that you knew from elementary school.

Maybe things were looking up for you.

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Spider-Man business had never been easier. Petty thefts had gone down. The city was running smoothly like normal, which was great for Mark as he could focus on schoolwork and improving his swinging skills.

Currently, the vigilante was patrolling the city on the lookout for any danger. Nothing was coming through the crime watch app connected to his watch. He has 10 more minutes until lunch with Johnny, Jaehyun, and You.

Once he reaches the café building’s rooftop, Mark drops down and enters through the stairwell door going directly into the janitor’s room to change. The doors are unlocked, which is not the safest but it’s convenient for Mark, he quickly changes into a white tee, light wash jeans, and the same black converse. The suit and mask are stuffed into his backpack as he goes back out to the roof to web down to the ground to enter through the café entrance like a normal person.

He's constantly on the lookout as he drops down near the trash bins. When he walks in, Mark is the first out of your group to arrive. He snags a booth in the corner as he checks his phone.

            we’re sorry

            mark i got us a booth

            jaehyun be there in 5

            image attached

Mark smiles at the selfie Jaehyun took with him and Johnny on either side of you. Jaehyun does a peace sign pose, Johnny is making a kissy face, and you’re just softly smiling. A smile that Mark Lee cannot look away from.

“What are you looking at?”

Mark gets spooked by you as Johnny and Jaehyun slide into the opposite side leaving you to sit next to him. He quickly locks his phone as his roommates give him teasing looks.

The server, Na Jaemin from fraternity Dream, hands out menus and readies his tablet. “Hi. Can I get you all started with any drinks?”

“2 vanilla iced coffees, 1 mango smoothie, and 1 ice matcha latte with coconut milk.” Johnny easily recites as Jaemin types it.

“I’ll be back with those as you look over the menu.”

As Jaemin walks away, you look surprised at Johnny, “How did you know my drink order?”

“You’ve sent a selfie with the same drink the past three days.”

You slump back against the cushion. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Not as embarrassing as Johnny thinking he named Spider-Man.”

Mark tenses at the mention of his other identity. He steals a glance in your direction to see if you noticed, but you’re too busy watching his friends start bickering.

“Bro! I totally did!”

“No, dude. You did not.”

Before the duo can start up another pointless fight, you remind Johnny of his story time.

“At least someone’s interested. As I was saying before, it was early October last year and I was walking to the subway when this massive car crash happened in front of me. I thought I was going to get killed, but then I was suddenly out of the way. Some dude in spandex had pulled me out of the way of one of the cars and then he started pulling people out of the wreck. He even jumped over a 10-ton truck. It was insane. After the fire department and ambulance came to help, the dude shot out a web and it came to me, “Spider-Man”, so I yelled that, and he turned around to give me a thumbs up before swinging away. So basically Spider-Man owes me for that copyright, but I’ll let it slide because he saved my life.”

Mark laughs at Johnny’s retelling of the story because of the way he tells people. The superhero was just glad that he had the spidey sense to save one of his best friends.

Jaemin comes back with the drinks and takes food orders.

“Spider-Man is cool. I’m a fan.”

Mark chokes on the first sip of his smoothie from your casual confession as Johnny high fives you.

“Why do you like the Spider Boy?” Jaehyun questions you. Mark sits up slightly straighter in his seat as he focuses all his attention on your answer.

“Do you remember that major subway incident where some asshole pushed that lady onto the tracks?”

The guys nod their heads.

“I was waiting for the train when it happened. I didn’t see the asshole that did it as I was on my phone, but then the frantic yelling of people started and some good samaritans trying to help the lady off the tracks. Then, all of the sudden, Spider-Man runs in and saves her. Thank god he did before the train arrived and he calmed her down while she told him about the person who did it. I just remember feeling so useless but wanting to do more.”

Mark looks over at you as you stir your drink with a spoon, his heart sinking as he remembers. It was the first time he became a hero. The first person he saved – Ms. Smith works at the corner flower shop that his mom loves.

“And I even… never mind.”

“No finish your sentence.”

“Johnny’s going to make fun of me.”

“I won’t let him.”

“Well, I kinda have a crush on him.” You immediately put your head between your arms on the table in an effort to hide away.

Mark freezes at your confession as Jaehyun lets out an “awe” and Johnny’s jaw drops.

“You like Spider-Man?”

“I know. How do you even like a person when you’ve never seen their face, but it’s his personality. In every story about him saving or helping others, he’s always described as the nicest person ever.”

Mark’s ears are turning red from the compliment. He would have asked for what else you thought about Spider-Man, but Jaemin came back with their orders.

“Yo Jaehyun, are you coming to DREAM’s party Friday?”

“I should be free next week if that invitation extends to my friends.”

“Any friend of Jaehyun’s is a friend of mine. Can you get the football team to bring kegs again? Haechan’s throwing the party this time and he won’t shut the fuck up about it.”

“I can get the guys together to do that. I’ll text him.”

“Thanks man. Enjoy your food, guys.”

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You and Mark meet up and walk to class together. He fills you in on all the bullshit Johnny and Jaehyun got into over the weekend. Something about making a short film where they switch bodies and tried to get Mark to film it.

Before you both can enter the building where your class is, the distant sound of sirens gets closer. You ignore it as you go to open the door, but Mark stops you.

“I, um, have a family emergency so I’ll miss class. Text me. Bye.” Mark weirdly stammers before giving you a quick hug.

You’re left standing in shock as he runs away.

Mark runs to the dumpster behind the university as he quickly changes into his suit. He stuffs his clothes in his backpack and webs it to a lamppost before heading into action. His spidey sense alerted him as soon as the sirens passed, and the app informed him of a fire in an apartment complex a street up.

Once he swings onto the scene, firefighters are battling the fire and evacuating the building. Mark propels himself to the top floor to check for any civilians.

You’re concerned about Mark as he left abruptly and isn’t responding to any of your texts.

            you i hope your family emergency isn’t too serious

            just let me know you’re ok!

            we didn’t do too much in class, but i’ll send my notes

            going to the library after class to print something for a class

You’ve never been to the library at 10 PM on a Tuesday night, but there’s a first time for everything. It was shitty that your printer in your dorm had to stop working last night. The first floor of the library was unsurprisingly packed with students as the university’s coffee shop was adjoined and open until 2 AM.

You got into the elevator as the printers were located on the fourth floor. The fourth floor was empty because most people preferred to keep electronic files electronic, but of course your morning class’ professor made the class print their papers to turn in.

Printing the paper was a quick task. There was certainly no line to wait in. You tuck the sacred 5-page paper into a folder to keep pristine and leave the library. You check your phone again for any word from Mark, but nothing. You go to call him, but then the elevator jerks to a stop as the light shuts off. You press the emergency call button and wait for an operator. You try calling Mark again, but your phone can’t get cell service and your battery’s dying.

Sinking to your knees, you hang your head between your hands as the ringing becomes background noise.

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Mark rushes back to university after the fire, swiftly changing back and shoving his suit into his bag. He checks his phone to see the texts from you and calls you. When your call goes immediately to voicemail, he knows something is wrong.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up and Mark books it to the library. The first floor is filled with chatter and students looking normal so he knows that only you must be in trouble. He goes to the elevators where there’s a student waiting for one.

“Are you waiting for the elevator?”

The girl looks up from texting, “Yup, the other one isn’t working again. Ugh so annoying.”

Fuck.

The other elevator returns and Mark steps in with the girl. She presses the next floor and goes back to her phone.

A million scenarios play out in Mark’s mind. Were you claustrophobic? How long have you been stuck in the elevator? Were you alone?

The silent ride was eating him alive as every second felt like an eternity.

When the doors open and Mark basically throws himself out of the elevator as the girl walks around him, judging. Mark’s senses aren’t going off on the second or third floor, he goes up again.

The second the elevator starts moving up to the fourth floor, his senses kick in. When the doors open, Mark calls out your name. When your muffled voice responds from the neighboring elevator he sighs in relief.

“Mark, can you help me?”

“Is help on the way?”

“No.” Mark starts freaking out. “The emergency button doesn’t work, and my phone died a little while ago, but it wouldn’t even help because my service wasn’t working.”

“Why didn’t you call 911?”

“I’m not dying or in serious trouble!”

“W-what? This is an emergency! Hold on let me get someone!”

Mark runs down the hallway and quick changes into Spider-Man. He shoves his backpack behind a printer in the back corner and runs back to you.

Mark clears his throat before speaking in a lower tone, “Hi!”

“Um hi?”

“I’m going to open the elevator doors, so please stand back!”

“Okay!”

Mark places his hands in the middle of both doors as he pushes the doors open by force. After getting them open he holds out a hand to you as you look at him, well Spider-Man, in shock.

“Spider-Man?”

“Are you okay?”

You feebly nod as you allow Mark to pull you towards him.

“Are you sure you’re fine? I can take you to a clinic.”

You shake your head as Mark leads you down the stairs to the first floor while calming you down, passing confused or excited students. When both of you reach the entrance, Mark tells a skeptical security guard about the broken elevator.

Mark is about to swing away to change when you grab his hand. “Did you see my friend? He has brown hair, brown eyes, wearing a yellow hoodie?”

“I sensed there was someone in trouble and he said he was finding a janitor.”

“Thanks, I’ll go find him. And, um, thank you again.”

Mark looks into your eyes full of gratitude and sends you a wave before swinging away. He makes sure to get far enough before u-turning to the back of the library to change. 5 minutes later, he’s running around to the entrance where you are still standing in shock.

Mark pulls you into a hug as you tell him how Spider-Man saved you.

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Haechan’s party was tonight, and you had no idea what you were going to wear.

Jaehyun had surprised you at 8 in morning by waking you up, endlessly calling your phone until you told him the password to open the door. A code you were going to immediately change after he leaves.

“Jae, it’s too early for any bullshit.”

He moves his sunglasses from his face to push back his hair, looking dangerously sexy. You have to shield your eyes from his blinding attractiveness.

“I need some help getting the kegs from Jungwoo.”

“Ugh,” You draw out the word as you throw one of your extra pillows at him which he catches, “I don’t want to get up.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun says as he effortlessly picks you up from your bed. “Now you’re up.”

“Put me down, Jeong.”

“Woah, not the last name. Putting you down.”

He gently sets you on your feet from the princess carry he was holding you in.

“I don’t want to know where you’re storing all that muscle to be able to pick me up.”

He smirks, “Wanna see my 8 pack?”

“Absolutely not. Now stand outside in the lobby so I can change.”

You meet him in the lobby after quickly throwing on an oversized shirt and biker shorts. You check over your bag that you have everything you need for the day – your phone, lip balm, sunscreen, your wallet, hand sanitizer, blotting sheets, and your water bottle.

“Okay, I guess I’m ready to tackle the day with you.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not doing anything too crazy.”

“I have very little trust in you at 8:30 AM.”

He puts his free hand on his chest as he fakes getting hurt, “You wound me.”

You roll your eyes in response as you start walking out of your dorm building, Jaehyun following you from behind.

Jaehyun leads the way to the football field as you walk next to him. The walk isn’t too bad and soon enough you hear various guys yelling and spot footballs flying through the air.

“Hey Jungwoo!”

A shirtless, blonde guy jogs up to the you two and dabs Jaehyun up.

“Hey Captain! I thought you weren’t coming to practice until later?” Jungwoo smiles before turning to you, “Oh, and you are?”

You politely introduce yourself as Jungwoo stares into your soul. “It’s a shame I haven’t seen your pretty face around.”

His remark takes you aback as you turn in shock to Jaehyun.

“Right? Imagine my surprise when I saw her for the first time.”

You avoid eye contact, not sure how to respond. “Um… thanks. We’re here to pick up some kegs?”

“Oh right! Let me get Yangyang.”

Jungwoo calls out to another guy behind him, thankfully he is clothed because you don’t know if you could survive another attractive, shirtless guy. He runs up as he greets you.

“I have it in my car, so follow me. Jungwoo, tell coach I went to the nurse or something.”

“Okay!”

Jungwoo jogs off to get back to practice. You and Jaehyun follow Yangyang to his car so he can drop you off at the DREAM frat house. The drive is short since the fraternity and sorority houses are near campus and the sports facilities.

Outside of the DREAM fraternity house on the front lawn are a few guys running around with water guns. The three of you get out of the car, grabbing their attention. Yangyang and Jaehyun wave at them causing one of them to run inside. As the kegs are being unloaded from the trunk, who you presume Haechan is, walks out.

The pretty boy with purple hair waves at you as he takes a hit from his neon green vape. He walks over as he blows a fat cloud into the air and pockets the vape.

He nods his head at you and leans against Yangyang’s car. “Hey.”

“Hi?”

“Are you coming to the party tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Cool.” He wets his lips as he looks you up and down, “Wear something hot, ‘kay?”

“Okay?”

He gets off Yangyang’s car as he winks at you.

“Thanks for the kegs. I’ll get the guys to bring them into the garage.”

Haechan taps his phone causing the garage door to open showing you the set of workout equipment on the side and a black Porsche parked inside. 2 guys with blonde and Oreo hair come out from the door inside and start moving the kegs.

“Hey Shotaro! Hey Renjun!”

Jaehyun calls out as the frat bros wave back at him.

“So, are you ready to go?” Yangyang stands next to you as you nod. He opens the passenger door for you to get inside. Jaehyun sits smack in the middle in the uncomfortable seat so he can talk to you.

“What next?”

“Our pretty girl might need a shopping trip.”

You felt like the “ugly” but actually stunning main girl whose only transformation is taking off their glasses or hair out from a ponytail and it’s the makeover montage scene in a 2000s romcom. Jaehyun and Yangyang were running around in the local mall piling on different types of clothes into your arms to try on.

Two hours passed by already and you were getting sweaty from trying on the various combinations of tops, skirts or jeans, and dresses. It was annoyingly sweet of Jaehyun and Yangyang, who you just met today, to go out of their way to help you find something to wear.

“Honestly, I could find something in my closet or a thrift store.”

“If we don’t find something in the next 30 minutes I know a good thrift store.” Yangyang throws a black minidress at you and you let it hit your face.

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As you walk down the street where Johnny parked while fixing the biker shorts under your dress.

Johnny opens the front door of the fraternity only for you to be greeted by the sight of a hundred or so people engaging in various acts of grinding, making out, drinking, or dancing to whatever playlist DJ Yangyang picked.

“Oh my god.” You walk in as Jaehyun and Johnny tail behind you, making sure to stare down anyone who looks at you in a mean or creepy way.

You smile and wave at Yangyang in the corner of the living room as he motions at your trio to come over. The three of you move through the crowd of people partying and try not to have any kind of alcohol accidentally spilling on your new outfit.

Yangyang removes the headphones from his head to his neck and talks in your ear, “You look hot!”

“Thank you! Can we get you anything?”

“Whatever has the least amount of alc by volume.”

“Got it.”

Johnny, Jaehyun, and You find the kitchen entrance behind Yangyang’s DIY DJ booth and open the various coolers filled with alcohol. Johnny helps you pick out Yangyang’s drink from the sea of canned beverages while Jaehyun gets drinks for you all.

As you walk back to give Yangyang his drink, Haechan is talking to him and spots you getting closer to them.

“Well, aren’t you a sight to behold.”

Haechan holds a handout as you take it, spinning you around him.

“That dress fits you perfectly.”

You shyly thank him as you did feel amazing in the red and black dress you bought at a thrift store after the three of you gave up at the mall earlier, but you hid the dress from them so you could pay for it. Jaehyun couldn’t stop staring at you and Johnny couldn’t stop complimenting you when they picked you up from your dorm. You felt that you needed to donate some of your old clothes to keep the good streak going.

The people around you start yelling and both of your heads turn in the direction of the kitchen when a loud crash is heard.

“Fuck. I bet someone tipped over a keg stand. Gotta go.”

He winks at you as he walks into the kitchen. You look around the room to see that J² are nowhere to be seen.

            you hey!! where did you guys go??

            johnny  we’re upstairs hanging with mark

            johnny jeno and jaemin are coming down to get u

You stand by the end of the staircase as you scroll on your phone when someone taps the back of your shoulder. Turning around to see 2 more beautiful guys as they smile at you. The guy with black hair and an undercut introduces himself as Jeno and the guy with brown hair introduces himself as Jaemin.

J² sent 2J to get you. Funny.

They kindly escort you upstairs, down a hallway on the left, and to the room at the end. The door has a sign that says

“HAECHANNIE’S ROOM!

LADIES - FREE

GUYS - $20”

You knock on the door and walk in after Johnny says it’s open.

“Hey.” You greet Johnny, Jaehyun, and Mark who are sitting on the bed with various drinks and snacks surrounding them. Mark moves a reuseable bag full of chips so you can sit next to him as Jeno and Jaemin sit on beanbags.

“So, how’s the party going for y’all?” You ask the frat bros as you dig into a bag of your favorite chips.

Jeno and Jaemin jump into a story of how Renjun challenged Haechan and Shotaro to a keg stand contest where Shotaro won and Haechan complained the rest of the time setting up. Haechan also must carry out a dare later tonight, but Renjun is keeping it a secret.

During the story, you keep looking at Mark to see his expressions throughout the story time. You like him, you realized this after Spider-Man saved you in the elevator, the way Mark comforted you and stayed with you the entire night. Even sleeping on the pull-out bed attached to your bed that was a little too small for him. Mark was paying attention to the story, but right after 2J finished telling the story, he abruptly gets up and runs out the room.

“Is Mark okay?” You ask bewildered as the rest of the guys are nonchalant.

“Oh yeah, Mark does this a lot.” Jaemin tells you as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Really?”

Johnny nods, “Yeah ever since the start of last year Mark’s been really weird like weirder than usual.”

“And stronger for some reason.” Jaehyun adds. “We started working out together last semester. When he thought I wasn’t looking, he maxed out the bench press. I can’t do that and I’m active in sports.”

“So now we think he’s doing steroids.”

“Dude don’t say that.”

“Kidding,” Johnny says as he looks at you. “But there is something going on… like he’s keeping a secret from us.”

“Are you insinuating that Mark is Spider-Man?”

Johnny shrugs. “I didn’t say that, but I also did not not say that.”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink, dude.”

“I’m literally sober. I have to drive you and Jaehyun home tonight.”

As you’re handing Johnny a bottle of water, Shotaro opens the door.

“Johnny or Jaehyun, can you please talk Haechan out of jumping from the roof into the pool.”

The two oldest guys let out a sigh as they get up to stop Haechan from doing something stupid and getting hurt.

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Your little group stands outside on the pool deck as people crowd around the pool chanting at Haechan to “jump”. Johnny and Jaehyun are sticking their head out of someone’s room scolding a tipsy Haechan who is standing near the ledge. It’s only 7 feet between the roof and the pool, but the pool is another 6 feet to dive into and the entire situation just screams “danger” to you.

Haechan is getting dangerously close to the edge causing Johnny to step out onto the roof as Jaehyun holds one of his hands.

“Haechan, we’re bringing you inside.”

“No.” He puffs a cloud of vape into Johnny’s face.

“You’re being an asshole, get in.”

Haechan’s balance is off because as he steps back a bit, his right foot misses the ledge. You can’t watch. The crowd is yelling. You look away only to see a figure jump over the fence.

Spider-Man thwips a web to put an inflatable pool floatie a foot of the ground with another floatie under it to cushion Haechan’s fall. Thankfully, Haechan falls right on the floatie and is safe from breaking a bone or something worse on the concrete.

“Are you okay?” The masked hero asks Haechan as he helps him stand up and check his body.

An eerily similar situation that mirrors exactly what Mark did when you were almost hit by a basketball.

Rushing over to Haechan, you hug him as you’re actively scolding him.

“Never do that ever again! You could have broken your legs or spine or died!”

“Excuse me.” Spider-Man clears his throat as you turn your head to him. “Are you a friend of his?”

“Yes.”

“It would be best to check that he doesn’t have any injuries and keep him inside.”

“Johnny’s probably going to bubble wrap him now.”

“I have to go now but have a good night.”

Spider-Man waves you and everyone else at the party bye as the crowd cheers for him. He then swings out of DREAM’s backyard as Johnny, Jaehyun, Jeno, and Jaemin meet you outside. They all hug Haechan and scold him as well.

“You’re cut off.”

“Seriously?” Haechan whines.

“From everything. End of discussion.”

Most of the crowd disperses inside to tell or show their friends a video of Spider-Man saving Haechan. You’re putting the pool floaties back in the pool when you almost fall in.

“Hey–woah there!”

You look wide up at Mark, who appeared out of nowhere, holding your waist to stop you from accidentally falling in the pool.

“Mark! Thanks for saving me.”

“Anytime.”

You stand back up away from the pool ledge as you smile at Mark. You notice that he’s sweating a bit.

“Could we head inside? I, um, wanted to ask you something.”

He nods his head as the two of you walk inside and then upstairs where there aren’t that many people. You hear commotion in the hallway that leads to Haechan’s room. You’re both curious, so you walk down the hallway to see Jaehyun standing guard outside his room.

“What is happening?”

“Johnny is inside making sure Haechan can’t escape out his window. Well, if he can get out of the bubble wrap duct taped to his body.”

“Figures. Mark and I are going to talk in someone’s room.”

“Oh?” Jaehyun gives you a look.

“We’re not going to fuck in someone’s bed.”

“Sure it isn’t.”

Mark blushes as you grab his hand to walk away down the other hallway. You spot Shotaro standing outside his door.

“Hey Shotaro! Can we borrow your room to talk quickly?”

“Yeah! Just lock the door after and find me at the DJ booth when you’re done. I don’t want a repeat of the first day of summer party where someone threw up in my bed.”

“Of course, and don’t worry, we won’t fuck in your bed.”

You make Shotaro speechless and Mark blushes even harder. You open the door to Shotaro’s room and get inside. His room is cutely decorated with pictures of him alongside the rest of the fraternity and tiny little trinkets sprinkled throughout. The window is open and as you look out of it you can see that his room overlooks the grassy area beside the pool.

A thought comes into your head as you look at Mark who is sitting on Shotaro’s bed across from you.

“I’ve got a lot to say so please hear me out for its entirety.” He nods his head as you stand in front of him. “Mark, I have a crush on you. I thought you were cute the first time I saw you after that basketball almost took me out. I was so excited when we ended up sharing a class together and you sat next to me the next class after we met. Then when you comforted me after Spider-Man saved me. That was the moment I knew that I liked you. I like you, Mark. Maybe even more than that.”

He stares at you awestruck.

“It’s okay if you don’t like me back. Hope we can still be friends no matter what. I just want you to know.”

“I like you too. A lot. I liked you ever since I almost accidentally hit you with a basketball. I liked you when you were excited when you found out we shared a class. I liked you when you saved a seat for me and let me borrow your water bottle. I was so happy when you were safe from being trapped in an elevator. I really like you and, if you want to, I hope we can date.”

“I would love to date you, Mark, but now I’m going to do something that might ruin our relationship before it even starts?”

Mark looks adorably confused as you walk backwards to stand in front of the window.

“You know that I also have a crush on Spider-Man. And I’ve had this hunch since he saved me in the elevator. I didn’t realize it when it was happening due to the adrenaline, but then thinking back on it – when you left while we were walking to class that one time for a “family emergency” and Spider-Man had been spotted right helping firefighter put out a nearby fire. Then, I got stuck in the library elevator and Spider-Man miraculously came to save me. Sure, it could have been a coincidence since the fire was near the university, but I wasn’t in that dire of a situation. I could’ve waited for you to find me after I texted you. Then, just right now, you leave as we’re talking with 4J then when Haechan is in danger Spider-Man shows up in the nick of time to save him? In every situation I brought up, you were there then gone, Spider-Man shows up then leaves, and then you’re back? Never in the same room to witness the masked hero. Something’s not adding up.”

“Am I Spider-Man?” Mark asks while nervously laughing. “You mean you think I’m Spider-Man?”

“I’d bet my life on it.” You tell him seriously as you sit on the window ledge.

“That’s serious.”

“I am serious.”

You continue getting farther out of the window as you possibly can.

Mark slowly stands up, “What are you doing?”

“If I’m wrong… have 9-1-1 ready.”

You then lean back as you fall out of Shotaro’s window hearing Mark yell your name, you barely have your entire body out the window when you stop moving. Opening your eyes, bunches of white strings surround your head and shoulders – Mark slowly brings you back inside Shotaro’s room.

The silence between the two of you is deafening until you open your mouth.

“I fucking knew it.”

Marks hugs you tightly. “Please… never do that again. You scared me.”

“Do you still like me?”

“D-Do I still like you? Yes, I still like you very much.”

“I scared you that bad, huh?”

“What if I wasn’t Spider-Man? Then what? You fall and die?”

“I wouldn’t have done it unless I was sure. Would a kiss make you feel better?”

“A kiss away from the window and maybe on solid ground would.”

masterlist | bonus chapter

BONUS CHAPTER NSFW MDNI 18+, instead of a sweet confession to Mark you decide to tease his masked persona, the ending in an alternate universe like the alternate universe where this story was real life – posted 9/24/2024

[poledancingdinos]

BFF Sy

Pairing: Young!Syverson & OFC (Gen fic)

Word Count: 1670 words

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @rosecentury @shellyshellshell

A/N: I haven't been able to write anything for a while so instead of making actual progress on a WIP, I spent way too many hours formatting this for AO3 to justify having only written dialogue. So if you want to get the full experience, I recommend checking it out here. Made a creator skin and everything.

Masterlist

You 12:47 A.M. : Desi’s new friends are EXACTLY like Chris’ friends used to be, it’s almost disturbing

Sy 12:53 A.M. : Ain’t that a good thing? I thought ya missed the metalheads after the breakup.

You 12:54 A.M. : I did. It’s just so out of character for Desi, you know? Her new BF is so different from others before

Sy 12:55 A.M. : But yeah, when me and L left your place I joked that it felt like Desi was sitting between you and your boyfriend rather than her sitting next to her own BF. So weird to see her with an emo kid instead of a suit.

You 12:56 A.M. : I’m headed home

You 12:57 A.M. : It’s about an hour

Sy 12:57 A.M. : RIP

Sy 12:58 A.M. : Didja take your sleep aids so you can just go to bed when you get home?

You 12:58 A.M. : Not yet

You 12:58 A.M. : Don’t want to risk having a dizzy spell on my solo walk home

Sy 12:59 A.M. : Fair.

You 12:59 A.M. : I’m pretty far from home so I’m being a little more safety minded

Sy 1:00 A.M. : Good. We just finished up a bit of cardio so now I’m wide awake and L is passed out 🤣

You 1:00 A.M. : Funny, it’s usually the other way around

Sy 1:01 A.M. : It’s the clean up afterwards that always wakes me up.

Sy 1:02 A.M. : I can doom scroll a bit and keep ya company if ya want.

You 1:03 A.M. : I wouldn’t mind a witness to my survival

You 1:04 A.M. : Right now I’m sitting in the first subway car behind the driver but as I walk I may call you

Sy 1:05 A.M. : Sure thing.

You 1:06 A.M. : Anyway, the guys were nice but loud as fuck

You 1:06 A.M. : Very into screaming along with the music

Sy 1:07 A.M. : Oh boy. How was Desi handling it?

You 1:07 A.M. : Well actually

You 1:08 A.M. : Even when her BF’s band showed up and things got extra loud

Sy 1:09 A.M. : You know, I was a little bummed I missed the night out with you guys when ya texted me earlier.

Sy 1:09 A.M. : Doesn’t sound like something I would have enjoyed after all lol

You 1:10 A.M. : Not at all. You like good music but not at that volume

You 1:12 A.M. : I wasn’t supposed to go but Leon said I was welcome as he left and Desi confessed that she had never met most of the people that were there and that she would appreciate a familiar face so I went with her after supper

Sy 1:13 A.M. : That’s nice

You 1:14 A.M. : But it was loud enough that my throat is a little raw now. I was honestly concerned that someone would call the cops

Sy 1:16 A.M. : Maybe with enough alcohol I would have been able to have fun lol

You 1:16 A.M. : I was the only sober person. The others had either had copious amounts of alcohol or copious amounts of weed

Sy 1:17 A.M. : It’s better you be sober for the return trip anyway.

You 1:18 A.M. : Leon and his back up vocalist were singing Bohemian Rhapsody at one point and Leon was chugging beer to rehydrate between the different parts 🤣

Sy 1:19 A.M. : Isn’t that how the professionals do it? 😅

You 1:20 A.M. : Only the ones in need of weekly meetings in church basements

Sy 1:21 A.M. : To be fair, the fact that he was able to both remember and sing the lyrics while drunk and high is impressive.

You 1:22 A.M. : Gotta give credit where credit is due, I guess 🤷‍♀️

You 1:23 A.M. : Getting off at the next stop

Sy 1:24 A.M. : Alright.

Sy 1:24 A.M. : Then you catch a bus?

You 1:25 A.M. : No, it’s a 15 minute walk

You 1:26 A.M. : Out of the station and walking

Sy 1:27 A.M. : Call whenever.

I wait until I’m across the street from the station to lift my phone to my ear. It only rings once before the call connects and I hear Sy’s deep voice.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

I hop down from the sidewalk onto the street to pass a man walking ahead of me. Why do people insist on moving at a crawl dead center in the middle of the sidewalk I will never understand.

“Didja have fun tonight?”

“Surprisingly, yes but not as much as you, I bet.”

Sy chuckles on the other end of the line. “Matter of perspective.”

“How was your family dinner?”

“Painful. Except for the dog. It was nice to have her around again.”

Sy’s apartment doesn’t allow pets other than for short visits so he wasn’t able to get his own dog after leaving his mother’s. Frankly, the dog is probably the main reason he didn’t move out sooner. He held out way longer than I would have. He’s also a good southern boy and doesn’t ever talk back, unlike me. I’ve got a mouth on me and I ain’t afraid to use it to tell people where they can shove it.

“What about you? Anything interestin’ happen after I left?”

“Not really, we mostly got caught up on our girl talk. Leon left around five to get to his mother’s day dinner. Desi and I left my place around eight. We ate at the little burger place on the corner then got to Leon’s a little before ten.”

I walk past the restaurant in question as I speak.

“Did it start rainin’ out?”

“More like lightly drizzling.”

“Are you still only wearin’ your shorts and crop top?”

I know he’s mostly asking out of worry that I’m going to get cold but I have no doubt there’s also a little part of him that’s worried my outfit from earlier would attract unwanted attention.

“I changed into jeans before leaving since I knew the walk home would be chilly and I put my giant hoodie on for the trip home.”

It’s a triple XL zip front I got from my old job. I found a bunch of old seasonal shirts when cleaning out the store room and my boss had let me take my pick of the leftovers before donating the rest. There had been one hoodie at the very bottom that had likely remained unclaimed because of the size. You could fit three of me in it at the same time but it’s comfortable and right now, it’s a small protection against potential unwanted attention.

“I’ve only seen, like, three people on the street and the road is well lit but, you know…”

“Better safe than sorry. I don’t mind darlin’.”

I can tell he’s getting tired since it’s about three hours past his normal bedtime. I’ve never been particularly worried about walking home alone at night. Hell, I’ve wandered around strange cities in the middle of the night to sober up in the hopes of avoiding a nasty hangover. Just the other day the girls I work with were saying how they don’t like taking the subway at night because they had too many bad experiences with being catcalled or with other passengers making them uncomfortable.

Me? Well, I’ve never been catcalled and men don’t normally look twice at me. I guess my above average height and my resting bitch face have made me overly confident. Or I’m just proof that women don’t come out of the womb feeling the need to clutch their keys in their fist at night unless men have done something to make them feel unsafe.

“At least I remembered to charge my phone before leaving.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

I wasn’t expecting Sy to actually be awake when I texted so the phone battery was more to make sure I knew when the last subway was and to call a cab in case I missed it.

“So are you camping out on the couch while we talk?”

L is surprisingly cool with our friendship but I’m pretty sure being woken up by your boyfriend talking on the phone with another woman in the middle of the night is a no-go for even the most laidback of girlfriends.

“Yeah. I got up for some water so I figured I’d just stay out here and avoid wakin’ L.”

“How dirty did you get her that the clean up pulled you out of the post nut drowsiness? You start dabbling in watersports or something?”

“Fuck off, there were no water sports involved.” Sy releases an audible yawn. “I didn’t think I’d miss condoms but they sure as hell made cleanup faster. By the time we both finish up in the bathroom I’m always wide awake.”

I hum in understanding. L is Sy’s first long-term girlfriend and they just recently dropped the latex after L got on birth control. “Do you have to get up to do that?”

“What, ya want us to just roll over and go to sleep? I already sweat my balls off at night, I don’t need to add wet spots into the mix.”

“You could keep baby wipes by the bed for late night cardio sessions. Avoid having to get up and go to the bathroom. Or bring a wet rag in with you beforehand.”

“That’s… not a bad idea actually.”

I pull my bag off my shoulder as I wait for the light to change. Might as well dig my keys out since I’m almost home. “Yeah, I’m full of good sex advice.” 

“I knew I kept ya around for a reason.”

I smile to myself. We both know that we wouldn’t have made it to ten years of friendship if all I had to offer was sex advice.

“I’m about to turn onto my street. I feel like the walk was shorter than usual.”

“Well, you’re breathin’ kinda heavy. You must’ve been walkin’ faster.”

He’s not wrong. I must be really out of shape if I can’t walk and talk without getting winded. Holding my phone between my cheek and my shoulder, I put my key in the lock and pull the door open.

I don’t remember what time it is until the door slams shut behind me. Oops.

“I’m safely behind a locked door. You are relieved from your babysitting duties.”

I linger in the entrance for a few seconds since the call would probably cut off if I stepped into the elevator.

“I’m up for babysittin’ whenever ya need it. Glad you’re home safe. G’night.”

“Good night.”

[astrangetorpedo]

IN INTERVIEW

Julien Baker, the interview 6/8/2016

At just 20 years old, Julien Baker gave us last year a first album of intense and rare emotional force, the superb Sprained Ankle reviewed here . A moving record that left a deep and lasting mark on me. It was therefore impossible to miss the young American's arrival in Paris and not to take advantage of the opportunity to try to get to know this outstanding artist a little better. A meeting was thus organized thanks to the invaluable help of Sean, her manager, in a café in the 12th arrondissement, two hours before the young lady's very first Parisian concert, on May 24. A one-on-one meeting that revealed to me an adorable and voluble young woman, incredibly touching and sincere, and above all determined to seize life with all her might! A moment of exchange and sharing that I am not ready to forget.

Hello Julien!

Julien Baker : Hello!

First of all, thank you very much for granting us this interview. I am a big fan of your music and it makes me really happy to meet you!

Oh, thank you! It's a great pleasure for me too, you know! I still can't believe that people like my music enough to want to meet me to talk about it. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, really!

Perfect! Let’s start at the beginning of your story. I read that you’ve been making music for a while now. Could you summarize the journey that led you to where you are today?

Yeah, sure! I started listening to music in middle school. It was rock, I was really into it with painted nails, black eye makeup, all that stuff! [laughs] Then I started playing in bands, punk bands mostly. Then I joined Forrister which is the band I still play in today. We were playing shows in cities around our area. Then I went to college and a friend of mine who worked in a studio there offered me to record with him for free. Since my band couldn't be there, I did it solo, without any specific plans. I put the album out on Bandcamp for $2 or $3 a copy.

That's when Sean [Julien's manager] contacted me and suggested we release the album in a more official and professional way. I told him that I was actually in a band, Forrister, and that no one would be interested in me as a solo artist. He insisted and even though I didn't believe it at all, I agreed to give it a try. I'll always remember the day he called me to tell me that NPR [National Public Radio] was going to play my single. I hung up crying and immediately called my mom all excited to tell her the news! But then, as things seemed to start to take off for me, I started to doubt myself. I felt guilty towards the rest of the band, thinking that they would resent me for doing this project without them. So I called the drummer and asked him what they thought and he said they were just proud and super happy and not mad at me in any way. So I kept going and here I am! I never thought I would come to Europe and do all this, it's crazy, really!

During the band's time, did you already have this desire to write your own songs?

I don't think I had any real unfulfilled desire to do this.

But you were writing?

Yes, I wrote my own songs. But not because the band was holding me back or preventing me from doing it within the collective. It's just that sometimes you write songs but they don't fit the moment. So I put those lyrics aside, like that, without any specific goal. I've always written and played in different bands. There was enough space for all that, things didn't have to be done exclusively in one framework or another.

Were your parents musicians?

Not really. Well my dad bought me a guitar and showed me how to play it. So I started playing by practicing at home on my own. I also took piano lessons but for a very short time. My teacher didn't really like me because I didn't work hard enough. I just played by ear without wanting to learn to read music and he didn't like that. So I taught myself. But my parents were big music fans. They played records all the time at home. When I was younger I wanted to go to a concert, my dad would come with me to make sure I was safe! He was the only adult in the middle of all these tattooed and pierced kids! [laughs] Oddly enough it never bothered me. When he made a surprise appearance at the Bowery Ballroom for my concert in New York, I was so proud! He and my mom have always been a great support!

This is really great!

Yes I know !

In addition to being an author and composer, you are also a student. Are you still going to university?

I just finished my semester. It's currently summer vacation. But I think I'm going to take a break in the fall. I completed the theoretical part of my literature course thanks to online courses. The last thing I need to fully validate my teaching diploma is the practical part, in school with students. I tried to do it last fall but it's complicated to carry out both projects at the same time: give lessons during the week then take a plane to California or New York on the weekend to play a concert, before returning to teach on Monday morning! So I'm going to take a break to devote all my time to music.

Do you want to teach one day?

I think I would really enjoy teaching. I love it. As a teenager I was a summer camp counselor, I love children. So yes it would be really cool to teach!

You studied literature. Did that influence your way of writing?

Yes, totally! I try to feed myself as much as I can from all these different ways of perceiving life and emotions that I find in books. It enriches me intellectually speaking. I have the feeling of learning new things about myself each time I discover a new author and this is then reflected in my writing I think, consciously or unconsciously.

Are you familiar with French literature?

Voltaire! I often joke with my professor friends that I would really like to have a big Voltaire and Cervantes tattoo! I already have a Gabriel Garcia Marquez tattoo [Julien then shows me his 2-part tattoo on the inside of his 2 wrists]…

Is he your favorite writer?

One of my favorites, I can't choose just one! And so when my students would complain that Voltaire is an old man who's not cool, I could show them my Voltaire tattoo and prove to them that it's really cool! [laughs] Reading Candide really changed my life. It was incredible! I think the translation of the title is The Optimist , which is quite ironic. Cervantes wrote Don Quixote and we have this word in English, "quixotic" which means optimistic but optimistic to the extreme, to the point where even if everything is going wrong in your life and you know it, you continue to believe in it despite everything. There is a really romantic and admirable dimension to that attitude I find. Same for Candide where there is this quote that I always come back to when I feel really bad and which says: "I wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but I still loved life" . I think I cried when I first read that sentence. Anyway, I could talk about literature for hours, don't drag me down that dangerous path! [laughs]

Haha, ok. So back to the music! Listening to your album I couldn't help but think of two other artists I really like: Sharon Van Etten and TORRES…

I love TORRES!

Me too! I even did my very first interview with her!

Wow! She's amazing!

Do you agree with this comparison even if the artists in question do not come from the same scene as you?

I totally agree with this comparison! As a teenager I only listened to punk and thought that anything that wasn't punk was worthless. Then I grew up as a musician and learned to appreciate all styles. When you really love music, you love an artist as long as their music is honest and good, no matter what the style. It doesn't matter if it's hip hop or country or whatever!

I totally agree!

And so I'm a big fan of TORRES! I loved her first album, the one before Sprinter . The song Honey is the very first one I heard from her.

The same !

And oh my god, what a song! I played with her in Chicago, I was added as the opening act at the very last minute, I felt so honored! On my way to the dressing room, I ran into her and as I was saying "Oh sorry, I don't want to bother you" she said "No, come on, this is a shared space, you have as much right to be here as I do" and she kindly invited me in. As for Sharon, it's funny because the first time I met her, she asked me to have lunch with her, can you imagine having lunch in New York with Sharon Van Etten! And she told me she was also going to invite her friend Mackenzie [Mackenzie Scott aka TORRES]. But our phones died and we couldn't get a hold of her. So in Chicago TORRES couldn't make the connection, I was just the little girl at the door!

Excellent! Are there any other musical influences that you would claim?

Do you know David Banzan?

Nope…

Ok. There's a band called Pedro The Lion and David Bazan is the lead singer. He influenced me quite a bit. And do you know Death Cab For Cutie?

Yes of course !

They were the first non-punk band I listened to. At the time I only listened to loud and fast music, but when I heard Transatlanticism for the first time it was a shock, everything changed. They really meant a lot to me.

Your texts are very strong and very personal. When you wrote them, did you think about the impact they could have on those around you first and then on the general public?

Well, at first, I didn't imagine that this solo album would lead me anywhere, I was convinced that my music would only be made with my band Forrister. So when I released the album on Bandcamp, I really thought that only my friends would listen to it. So I wrote all these songs like that, just for me, without really thinking about the scope of the lyrics. And I'm ultimately happy that I didn't think about it because if I had known what was waiting for me, I think I would have most certainly changed things, I would have probably been more reserved in my words. But if it's difficult for me to show my vulnerability, I realize that it's totally worth it when young people come up to me after concerts to tell me that my music has helped them in difficult times in their lives. It's of course a little embarrassing for me to share such intimate things but if these things make others feel good, then I think it's worth it in the end.

But isn't it a little scary to expose yourself so completely naked and transparent? It's so brave, I don't know if I could do it myself!

Well, you see, it's exactly the same for me, I'm not sure I would have been able to do it if I had known everything in advance! But now that it has happened, I feel that from now on I have the right, the license to be brave. Perhaps it was the plans of destiny or God, something like that.

And isn't it too difficult for you to sing songs every day that inevitably bring you back to painful moments?

I think there are two options. Option one: I can sing these songs every night, let them take me back in time and feel sorry for myself. Option two: there is the quote from this poet that I love who says that all the horrible things in life just need to be seen from a different and courageous perspective. Things that seem bad can indeed turn out to be good in the end. So I have chosen to let the dark and sad aspects of my songs become pretexts to be positive and happy. Because yes, all these things have happened to me but if that had not been the case, I probably would never have written these lyrics and I would not be here today in Paris talking to you, Laurence! In the grand scheme of things, everything has a meaning and works for our good in the end.

That's very beautiful what you say! [laughs] To talk about lighter things, this is your first time in Europe, isn't it?

Yes !

How do you feel?

I love it! I have such a good time. Well I don't sleep much... [laughs]

Is it the time difference or the excitement?

Well now it's the excitement! But a week ago it was also the jet lag [laughs]. Imagine, we traveled for over 30 hours straight to get here! I first took a plane to Richmond and then a train to Washington DC. We then took a flight to Iceland where we took another flight to Copenhagen. Once there we took a train but due to a problem on the tracks we had to take a bus that took us to another train! When we arrived at the hotel, we were totally exhausted! [laughs] It was 11 o'clock in the evening but at that time of year the sun hadn't set because we were so far north and my body didn't understand anything at all! But hey after a good night's sleep everything was better! And now if I don't sleep it's just because I don't want to miss anything, not a single minute you know! I thought I would never be able to afford to travel and once again it seems that Destiny's plans are extraordinarily kind to me. I feel so grateful and lucky!

And that's just the beginning!

I hope so! But you know, even if everything had to stop, well in any case it would have been much, much more than I could have imagined! I am so grateful for everything that is happening to me!

Are there any particular places you want to discover?

Sean has been here before and wants to show me places he liked. Today he took me to see the Sacré-Cœur which is beautiful. On my side, there are also places I would like to visit, especially in Barcelona, ​​because I am majoring in Spanish literature. I would like to go to the café where Picasso had his very first exhibition, long before he was famous. I would also like to see the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's work, visit a museum, buy a Viva Cataluña t-shirt and eat paella. I am so excited to be able to do all these things!

That's great! But it's going to take you some time to do all of this!

We are staying there for the whole festival [Primavera Sound Festival]. So we should have some time. Of course we won't sleep much because in the evening I also want to attend the concerts!

You'll sleep when you get home!

Exactly! Since I am a big coffee drinker, one of my friends gave me a badge for my jacket that says "I will sleep when I am dead" ! [laughs] There are indeed so many things to experience in one life! [laughs]

And what are your plans for after the European tour?

We're actually going to be touring until the end of the year.

Will you come back to Europe?

We're going to Australia in November I think. I can't wait! We're also going to tour the States so as for Europe I don't really know... And then I hope to have some free time early next year. I'm always writing new songs that I play live. I must have 30 demos on my computer and I'd really like to record them. So it would be great if I could get into the studio early next year!

Last question: do you have one or more musical recommendations to share with us?

Lucy Dacus!

Oh I love it!

We played together in Washington DC. I had never heard her songs before Washington and I remember hearing the lyrics to Map On A Wall which say "I hope good comes from good and good comes from bad anyway" and I started crying all by myself watching her play. Her music is so beautiful, so powerful! And we have so much in common: questions of spirituality, sexuality and faith, questions about gender too and the place of girls in rock music. We are really like two halves of the same person. We have the same booker and were approached by the same label. And when I saw her again in Richmond I knew we operated exactly the same way. So our biggest fear is that we will one day become jaded and arrogant. We want to remain grateful, sincere and enthusiastic. There are so many people who do this for a long time and end up jaded. It's really great to find someone who feels exactly the same way you do, and that's the case with Lucy. We're platonic soulmates! She's a very, very dear friend.

You must tell her at all costs to come and shoot in Europe and in Paris because there are people waiting for her here!

Promise! I'll send her a message as soon as I have wifi!

Lucy Dacus! A perfect choice! Thank you very much Julien!

Thank you! It was great!

photos by jean-marc ferré 📸

interview by lolo from paris (who has great footage of that paris show on his youtube account) 📝

wayback link for the interview 🔗

[wings-of-ink]

I'm trying to make my own IF story, if it's ok to ask how'd you come up with the ideas? Or how'd you build off it to make a whole (beautiful and amazing) story?

I've had a few ideas but get caught up in trying to make everything in one section fit, and then I feel like I'm getting no where

if you have any tips Id love to hear (your game has become one of my favorites in the 24 hours it took to play ♥️)

Hello Nony! I am so glad you enjoy GC, and am happy to answer that question as best I can. I'm free-styling here, so this will be a bit long.

For me, most ideas just sort of spring up, but they aren't full ideas when they do. GC started from a thought about a cursed MC. That was it. I just dwelt on it and sort of answered questions about it - where did the curse come from, etc... It grew a lot from there as I tried to answer questions about it. The nature of those details gave me my fantasy setting, which I grew as well. I just started small and found a place for each layer that I needed to add to the structure. This can take quite a while depending on what you're cooking up. GC had months and months of building and background before I ever started writing the actual story.

In this poll, the IF idea I had for "Shivers" was literally inspired by my brother-in-law. He actually has that nervous tick, and he jokes about it, and we tease him (good-naturedly). He says that his future gravesite must be under a parking lot or a sidewalk because people keep walking on it, lol. It just made my imagination spin.

The "gritty drama" idea from this same poll stemmed from one of my OCs. I just made a setting for her and then thought of the type of world she lives in and what I could do with it.

Other ideas I have had came from thinking of a cool "scene" while listening to music. Music is a great medium for me to help me think about my characters especially. Just listen to your favorite tunes and let your brain go wild.

It just sort of also depends on how you think. There's nothing that says an idea just needs to come to you, you can set out to find one.

I would recommend focusing on themes and genres that you enjoy reading as well. I am a long-time fan of fantasy, I have written several fantasy stories in the past, and it just feels comfortable for me. You are more inclined to think of story ideas in the niches that you love the most.

One thing I would highly recommend for IF's especially is that you make sure the MC is the center/focus of your story. Some IFs can feel like the MC is a secondary character, and the story is really about the ROs. They can still be great stories, but your reader is often looking for a personal experience in addition to the story and romances.

And just an aside that I think is important, since in the IF communities you see themes repeated, especially popular ones. Do not worry about if your story is completely unique. As long as you do not pluck ideas and words directly from others, it's okay. In the literary and entertainment world, truly unique ideas are very rare if not non-existent, but your version of it has not been told before. You also don't need an earth-shattering idea to make it interesting.

I hope this helps you a bit. If you have more questions or comments about any of this, feel free to send in another ask. If you tell me more about your personal process and experience, maybe I can think of other things that would help if you like. ^_^

[bqstqnbruin]

Matt Rempe Teacher AU

I have actually written four little teacher au blurbs in less than 24 hours out of sheer boredom but I don't like one of them so here's the third one you get have fun

Teacher AU Series

Warnings: None

WC: 1848

“What are you doing?”

Leighton jumps when she hears his voice, not noticing the door even being opened as she scrambled to turn off her music so she could have a conversation with him. “I’m putting together first day of school gifts for my homeroom.”

Matt scoffs, inviting himself over to her lab tables, shuffling through the things she had scattered on the black table tops. “Why?”

“It’s their last first day of school, I wanted to do something nice for them.” 

“Something nice is a plastic lei, beads, and a wooden letter?”

“A: it’s something small for the first day, it doesn’t have to be that elaborate. B: I spent time painting these their class color and it’s their initials, not just a random letter. And, C: have you seen them on spirit day? They eat this kind of shit up,” Leighton scolds him, trying to push past him to get the bags together. She knew her homeroom students. She knew this was the kind of stuff they loved to get, and she wanted to make their last first day just a little bit more special if she could. Not to mention, it was all in a reasonable budget for having to make fifteen gift bags.

Matt scoffs again, making Leighton’s blood boil. “They’re seniors in high school, not first graders.”

“And what do you do for your homeroom?”

“Nothing. I don’t have to buy their affection the way you apparently do.”

“It’s not buying their affection if they were giving it to me for free to begin with. Now get out and go back to your own classroom, you have your own prep to do before students show up on Monday,” she says, trying as hard as she could to physically shove him out of her classroom, unable to see the smile on his face. 

“Did it already.”

Leighton steps back, throwing Matt off balance. “How?”

Matt shrugs, a smirk on his face. “It’s not that hard. I don’t need things on my walls and Mary already ordered all the supplies we need for this year when we were clearing out the budget last year.” 

“I don’t understand how you don’t decorate your classroom at the beginning of the year.” 

Matt gestures to the posters behind her desk, knowing that they were things for her homeroom from the previous years that she put back up every year. “I hang up students' work new each year. Let them decorate my classroom, not me.” 

“Get out,” Leighton says again, Matt laughing on his way to the door. 

That Monday, Leighton’s seniors loved their gifts, their classmates from Matt’s homeroom coming flying into her classroom to show off their brand new Stanley’s with their names embossed on them. Personal, flashy, and expensive. Not to mention, one of Matt’s girls, Vikki, placing one with the name ‘Ms. Cunningham’ on her desk, just for her. 

As soon as her students left, she took the cup with her down to Matt’s classroom. “What is this?” she asks, bursting into his classroom, thankful that he was alone in his room instead of with a student to see this. 

“It’s called a water bottle. Kind of. I don’t know if it counts as a bottle or a cup, but either way, you drink water from it.”

Leighton groans, turning on her heels before he can say anything else. She put the cup in one of the cabinets in her desk, hoping she could forget about its existence since she couldn’t forget about the person who gave it to her.

She avoided Matt as much as possible, knowing that anything he did would get under her skin and make her irrationally angry, a pit in her stomach whenever she saw him.

Christmas was coming up, Leighton already planning her Christmas gifts for her homeroom. They had gotten together and bought her a Ranger’s jersey with the name her favorite player from her childhood on the back for her birthday (apparently getting a bunch of anonymous students in on the gift to get around the ‘teachers can’t accept gifts of more than $25 from their students’ rule in the handbook), so she had to do something for Christmas.

She found someone on Etsy who made personalized necklaces for not much money, letting her put their names, their school name, and their graduation on charms for them. She stayed a little later before their last day of the calendar year to wrap their gifts for them, enjoying the peace she had in her room with the lights slightly dim, the sun already set, and Christmas music playing over her speakers.

“Now what are you doing?” Matt asks, his coat and hat already on, his keys in hand. Good, he had to be leaving soon. 

“Wrapping my homeroom’s Christmas gifts. And you look like you were leaving, so you should do that.” 

“Let me help,” he says, putting his bag down and taking off his hat. “It’s already after five, the faster this gets done, the faster you can go home and plan my demise or something.”

Leighton tries to hide the smile she wanted to mirror back to him. “That would imply that I think about you outside of work.” 

Matt shrugs, taking the necklace for Leah and wrapping it with more care than she had been. “I think about you outside work.”

Leighton rips the wrapping paper, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

“Yeah, wondering why you do this type of stuff.” 

Leighton swallows. “A couple of my girls' parents don’t have a ton of money. They can’t really afford to get them all the nice gifts that some of the other girls get. At least this way, I know they get something, and I know that it’s something that’s just as nice as the other girls get. I was that kid who would watch their friends opening these amazing presents, knowing that I would never get anything that nice until I could afford it myself.”

“So you buy yourself nice things now?”

Leighton laughs. “No. I spend pretty much all my extra money on stuff for the girls. Especially since it’s their senior year, it’s my last chance with this group to show them that there are people out there who are willing to do nice things for them.”

“What do the parents think?” 

“Most of them don’t care. But the ones that don’t have the money told me they like that there’s someone who can surprise their girls. They do what they can, but they can’t do everything, you know?”

Matt nods, giving her a soft smile. 

The next morning, her homeroom girls, again, loved their Christmas gifts, only to be interrupted, again, by Matt’s girls rushing in. Soph showed Leighton that Mr. Rempe had picked up every girl their Starbucks or Dunkin orders that morning, along with a Christmas ornament that had their name, the school name, and their graduation year on it, shockingly similar to the necklaces from her. Katherine hands her the same; her coffee from Dunkin and an ornament with Ms. Cunningham and the year she started teaching there on it.

Her students leave, and again, she storms down to Matt’s classroom, the Dunkin and ornament in hand.

“What is the matter with you?”

Matt turns to the student sitting at one of the tables, making up a test. “Jessie, I’ll be right back,” he says, grabbing Leighton’s wrist and dragging her into the prep room connected to his classroom, sending a shiver down her spine that she decided to ignore. “That’s an interesting way to say thank you to someone who got you a Christmas gift after telling them you didn’t have anyone who bought you nice things.”

“You keep one-upping my gifts to my girls,” she points out. “You’re doing the exact thing I watched when I was a kid with my friends getting better stuff.” 

Matt holds his hand up as if he were surrendering. “I like to get my students things I know they’ll like, just like you do.” 

“You are an insufferable walnut,” she lets out, not sure what else she could really say knowing there was a student within earshot of them. “Do not come into my classroom unless you’re told to, please. I am begging you.”

She leaves again before he could say anything, throwing the Dunkin in his trash can so he could see she didn’t take it with her. She sits down in her chair and lets out a long sigh, opening the cabinet to throw the ornament in with the cup from the beginning of the year. 

The rest of the year passed without much fanfare, Matt doing what he promised and leaving her alone. The last day of school and, therefore, graduation, was coming up quickly for the girls she had come to know so well over the last four years. She bought them custom wall art for their dorms next year that had their college colors on it. It was easily the most expensive and most difficult thing to get them, but it was the last thing she would get for them, it had to be special. 

“Are you ok?”

Leighton nearly jumped out of her seat at her desk, dropping the pen she had been using to write a letter to Katie, one of the last letters for her girls she would write. “You’re like the mold on my ceiling that keeps growing back.”

Matt looks up above her, a horrified look on his face. “You have mold?”

“Why are you here?”

“I was heading out and I saw you were crying.”

Leighton holds her hand up to her face, the tears on her cheeks long unnoticed. It was easy to get emotional writing about her girls; she watched them grow from scared freshmen into the women they were today, ready to set out into the world and hopefully change it for the better. “I’m gonna miss this group.” 

Matt nods, walking over to her desk, kneeling down in front of her and placing his hand on her knee. “They’re gonna miss you, too.”

Leighton laughs. “Do you remember your homeroom teacher from high school?”

“No, but I remember the ones who cared about me and my classmates.” The two of them sit there for a moment, Matt getting up off the ground. “Why did you never answer my questions?”

Leighton looks at him, clearly confused. “I have answered every question you asked me. All the annoying ones, too.”

Matt laughs, shaking his head. “No, the ones I asked you with the gifts.” She gets the gifts out of her desk, where they had been sitting all year. Matt takes the Stanley, opening the cup to reveal a note stuffed inside. He unravels what she thought was ribbon tied to the ornament that was another note. “I’ve been asking you to dinner all year,and you never said anything.”

“I ignored these gifts all year,” she says, bluntly. “I didn’t know you wanted to get dinner.”

“I would like more than just dinner, but I’ll settle for anything.”

[lowkeyrobin]

hey!

idk if you’re still writing but if u are - and have the time - could you maybe write fourth grade or ray seeing the readers sh scars? totally understandable if not :))

ooo yeah sure! ; also I'm still active I promise haha, if I ever had to retire (which will hopefully never happen) I'd probably but a thing in my bio to detail that I'm gone temporarily/permanently ; but yeah, it's all cool, I've written ab sh plenty of times before and I'm fine with writing about it ; decided to do ray on this one cause I've given fg enough attention atm haha ; and thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy!

RAY ; don't hurt yourself again

summary ; he finds your sh scars

warnings ; language, substances, self harm & weapons (razors/scissors iykwim) used (slightly) in detail to cause physical harm

disclaimers ; pre-stevie era

word count ; 1.3k

masterlist

This hot, sunny summer day was no different than any other. Patsy Cline's Walkin' After Midnight rung in your headphones, your cassette player quietly whirring as it plays your mixtape. The summer vibe had finally hit you, inspiring you to get with the theme and listen to some more beachy/summery songs for the season.

Ray always found it funny how you had such a taste for music. He didn't get how certain music was only for certain seasons or only gave you the vibes of a certain time, but he wasn't against it. You were way better at making mixtapes than he was.

Speaking of him, you were on your way to meet him at an abandoned pool you'd found a couple months ago. It was around sunset, the heat wearing down against your back.

Trust, the pool was clean, you made sure of it. But you found it as some hole in the concrete by some unused project apartments, water just sitting stagnant inside. You pick up your pace a bit, wanting to hurry before the sun completely set.

As you arrive, you see Ray, Fuckshit, Fourthgrade, and Ruben, dressed down to their boxers as they fuck around in the water. You wave hello as they welcome you, watching as you strip down into whatever you preferred to wear in the water.

You join them as the moon illuminates the pool, the only other slight source of light being the mostly burned out street lamps.

You end up starting a little water war, with you, Ray, and Fourthgrade against Fuckshit and Ruben. It was mostly just a splash party, with lots of shouting and yelling. Said shouting and yelling earned you a noise complaint, causing police to come deal with you.

"Hey! Hands up, get out of the pool!"

As flashlights are pointed at you all, you quickly scramble out, grab your belongings, and run barefoot down the street to avoid the police. You laugh and yell to one another as you sprint down the road, adrenaline fueling you as you aren't able to feel the rocks in the road wedge into your feet.

You hide in a garden, lit up just enough so you'd be able to put your clothes on properly and be able to tie your shoes. You shove your dry clothes on over your wet ones, attempting to warm up before you begin to freeze due to the cold water soaked in your under clothing.

You notice Ray staring at you a little too long before looking away as you slide your shirt on. You brush it off, maybe thinking he was looking over at one of the other guys, and you happened to be in the way, or maybe he saw a rabbit or a squirrel run through the lawn.

You and Ray separate from Fourthgrade, Fuckshit, and Ruben, as the trio were planning to go to some 24 hour diner to eat dinner before heading home. You and Ray head the opposite way, wanting to go home as sleep slowly creeps up on you both.

Your walk home is mostly silent, warm street lamps lighting your way down the sidewalk. You slowly glide on your board next to Ray, who decides to walk. He shakes his locs out of his face to look up at you.

"Do you hurt yourself?" He asks bluntly, unable to word what he wanted to ask any differently.

"What?" You quickly look at him confused, almost shocked. "No"

"I saw scars on your arms earlier when we were in that garden," He speaks, "Those weren't cat scratches or just rush burns or some dumb shit, those were cuts. It's fine if you don't wanna talk about it, but it's not fine to bottle it up and just hurt yourself. Like, we're here for you, okay?"

You slightly shrug and look away, your foot hitting the pavement as you give yourself a little push. "I don't hurt myself anymore"

"Oh"

You hold back a light smile. "Yeah"

"When did you hurt yourself then?" He asks, almost disappointed in himself that he never caught onto it if it was in the past. "Why?"

You shrug as you give him a blunt explanation. "Long ago. They're just scars for a reason. Life got rough, and I didn't know how else to cope. I was too scared to drink or smoke like you guys, but I was somehow able to hurt myself instead."

He nods. "Sorry"

You nod, "It's cool. I was waiting for it to happen anyways. Just another consequence of my actions, but I've grown and yknow, sappy shit"

He chuckles, "Yeah, yeah."

He pulls a blunt from his pocket, like he'd pulled it from Mary Poppins' bag, considering he just randomly had it and a lighter. He lights it up, puffing it to feel a little calmer about what you'd told him. He was such an extreme empath when it came to shit like this because he knew what the bottom felt like after losing his brother. He understood but didn't know how to help, so he just listened.

The rest of the walk is fairly quiet, the smell of weed filling your noses while the sound of your board rolling on the concrete whirs in your ears.

He waves a slightly awkward goodbye as he walks up to his front porch, knowing you'd stay on the sidewalk until he actually got inside. He grabs at the screen door, pulling on it to realize it was locked. Within the Marry Poppins pockets he had, he surprisingly didn't have his housekey.

He turns back to look at you, giving you a look you knew all to well. You laugh before waving him down to you, offering up your bed for him. He jogs back down the sidewalk to catch up as you'd already drifted away, knowing he'd follow like a lost puppy.

He holds onto your hand as you trail down the neighborhood towards your house, trying to hide the fact that holding your hand was his only comfort that he knew you weren't currently hurting yourself.

You open your front door to let him inside, placing a finger over your mouth to tell him to hush as you walk toward your room. You close the door and hand him some clothes he'd be able to wear to bed, allowing him to go to the bathroom to change while you also change.

You both flop down on your bed, sitting in silence as you stare up at the ceiling covered in glow in the dark stars. A lamp illuminates the room, covering it in a warm blanket.

He turns to look at you. "Do you wanna talk about it at all? Get it off your chest?"

You shrug before answering, "Yeah. I mean, what do you wanna know?"

He shrugs in response. "What'd you use?"

"Scissors, razors, pencil sharpeners. Anything sharp, used a knife once."

"Damn" He mutters. "How often did you do it?"

"About multiple times almost every day" You answer. "I was at the bottom then"

"When was then?" He asks, "A few weeks, months, years ago?"

"Months" You answer carefully. "I'm not anywhere near depressed like that anymore, I swear"

He nods, turning on his side to look at you as you speak. "You know you can reach out for help, right? Like, we aren't gonna yell at you or something, we wanna help you, I promise"

You quickly nod. "Yeah, it's just, when you're that low, you don't think help will actually help. I was worried if I reached out, I'd just be thrown to the side or I'd be yelled at and lose everything I have left."

He nods. "Can you promise me you won't hurt yourself again?"

You smile, appreciating the thought of those words. You hold your pinkie out to him, allowing him to shake his with yours to pinkie promise on it.

"I promise"

[popcornforone]

One Last Dance

A Max Phillips Fic

Day 24 of Pedrotober (Sundance Prompt)

Masterlist

Dramatic licence time. This is the one I had a hard time competing up with a concept for. I didn’t want to do more of our general, I know Joel is coming up soon so I didn’t want to do his hair, & I’ve done 3 for Dieter. So I’ve gone to our wonderful Bitey Maxie, to take thing literally.

Synopsis:- Max wants you to have vivid memories before you are turned.

Word Count:-1200

Warnings over & above:- death, fear of death, vampire lore, oral sex, ptsd, overwhelmed, swearing, blood drinking, possible manipulation but not too much.

Thanks as always for the read peoples. It’s a bit scary there’s now only a weeks to go, I can’t believe how much I’ve written. Thanks @alyssamariag & @norththelemon for the prompts as always.

When max asked you if you would like any last requests, he was thinking like a last meal or maybe a holiday with friends or if you wanted your family to know before you were turned. But instead you asked for something surreal. A Sundance.

You wanted to spend the afternoon on the night of your transformation dancing on the beach, in the midday sun. Days like this are the reason why for the last 3 years you have put off agreeing to Max turning you. You are a beach bunny & you love to swim In the sea & get tanned. But that will no longer be an option. Vampires don’t set a blaze like they do in fiction, but more than an hour without protection & precautions & they fade fast. Turning grey, needing blood, needing sleep. It’s not a nice sight. So this is your last day to enjoy being mortal, & going to the beach is how you want to spend it.

You were shocked when you saw Max ready & waiting for you that morning by the front door of your house with a bag full of stuff.

“Omg Maxie” you say excitedly.

“Only the best for my bride” he giggles “I got you a bucket & spade, a water pistol, a picnic with garlic dip” you both laugh”& I got you a new sun hat” you laugh as he hands it to you. It reads “it’s burning hot”

“Oooh Max thank you baby” you hug him & go to grab the car keys, but he’s holding them. “Max?”

“I’m coming too”

You look in shock.

“You can’t”

“Yes I can” he then reaches up & puts on a huge grey coat & a huge sun hat. Once you thought people only wore to look funny.

“Your gonna die wear that or not wearing that.” You exclaime trying to protect him. It’s such a thick padded coat.

“Not when the left side is filled with blood & the right side is filled with our vampiric supplements”

“It’s padded with that?”

“Yep I’ve thought of everything” you leap into his arms & he holds you as you wrap your legs around him. He’s got a beard today, he says he will be clean shaven on the day you awaken from your transformations.

“Oooh Maxie” you give him a deep seductive kiss & he smacks your bum. You smirk.”we could stay here all day & have sex” you lick your lips & look deeply in his eyes.

“Nah, we have eternity to do that, this is your last mortal day, my bride gets what she wants”

You sit on your bed at 7pm flicking through the photos that Max took of you on the beach today. You look so carefree & happy. He sat in a coffee shop making sure he had the perfect view so he didn’t get to hit. You then skip to a video of you & 3 others listening to some loud drum & bass music on the beach. You’re in your swim suit & coverall, dancing away, singing your heart out, as the sun gives you a glorious glow. You smile & start to well up, it suddenly hits that this will never happen again to you. Max had always said that if you have a choice to turn on the day, you will always second guess it. It’s almost like he knew this would set you off because as soon as your eyes sting a comforting hand caresses your shoulder.

“Still not too late my love” he says, that large hand a comfort that you grip to. You turn your head & look up, a single tear drops.

“Max I want to be with you, I want to be your vampire bride, we’ve been through this hundreds of times over the years, if we don’t do it now I’ll never do it”

“You have a choice, I didn’t, I don’t want you to do something that will make you sad” he sounds soft & genuine as he sits next to you wrapping his arms around you.

“I know Max, but I don’t want to get it wrong”

“The transformation?”

“No!” You say firmly. “If I stayed mortal, I’d be a huge target, I’d be open season, & it would kill me to know that I could have a life with you, but you wouldn’t get immortality with me” you hug him & he kisses your forehead.

“Damn, even now your still trying to comfort me, I can’t believe your more worried about that than anything else”

“I love you Max, I’ve made you wait long enough” you stroke his curls & beard. Yes his hair has grown too. “Also I need to be turned, I can’t deal with this hair & beard anymore” you giggile & give him a small peck on his lips.

“What if I like my hair like this?”

“Maxie, you kept pushing it out of your eyes earlier”

“But it’s a …”

“No Max” he then pushes you into the mattress & spreads your legs. God he’s a strong vampire.

“You’re saying you don’t want to run your hands through these luscious locks once more while I lick your pussy one last time as a mortal” you smirk.

“Well when you put it like that…” your panties are down under your dress in seconds flung across the room as Max licks a long stripe across your entrance to your clit.

“I’m gonna miss tasting this for 3 weeks…”

You sleep. Unaware you are asleep. Unaware you are dead. Unaware of the days passing. The last thing you saw before you were injected with the venom was Max kissing the back of your hand wishing you the soundests of sleep & devoting his immortal life to yours.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

You jolt up right & realise your lying sat up in bed. You clutch yourself. You feel like you. Had it been a weird dream? what was going on? Where were you? Your eyes readjust to the light. You hiss. You’re in his basement as promised. His coffin empty. Your blink readjusting & then realise where the light is coming from. The tv. It’s showing on loop you on the beach on your last day as a mortal. You hear the sound of the sea, the laughing & the light & you smile. Your eyes almost completely working. That’s when you realise you’re not breathing, & you start to shaking suddenly feeling cold. But something less cold holds your hand quickly as you silently panic.

“Hey hey hey baby” Max whispers “I’m here, I’m here, it worked, your with me now, your safe”

“I’m dead?”

“Oooh far from it” he giggles kissing your cheek. You can’t help but smile. Your hand caresses his face. Clean shaven, no curls, he did as he promised.

“How long have I been out”

“16 days, you started to fidget on day 13, so we knew you’d be awake soon & that the transformation was a success”

“Any issues?” Max had told you there could be issues with your transformation & that 25% end in death.

“Just the one”

“Oooh what is it Max?”

He chuckles & your red eyes lock with his.

“I’ve not been able to fuck my vampire bride for 16 days”

[insanityclause]

Tom Hiddleston was given a royal assignment on Thursday evening. An ambassador for the Prince's Trust, the Loki actor, 43, attended the charity's Invest in Futures event, where he relayed a poignant message written by King Charles. 

"I really am so pleased that The Trust's work continues to go from strength to strength, having, in recent years, expanded from its mission in the United Kingdom to now supporting young people in twenty-three countries," read Tom. 

"Celebrating the global impact of this work is an achievement which, I must confess, I could not have dreamed of back in 1976 when I started The Trust, using, at that time, my Royal Navy severance pay when I left the Service to help disadvantaged young people achieve their full potential.

"I am thrilled to say that it has now worked with over one million young people, helping them to start careers, launch businesses and re-engage with education. I am enormously inspired by the determination and commitment of young people, one of whom you will hear from later. They are changemakers; they will shape the world's future and we must support them to realise their dreams."

A momentous occasion for the Prince's Trust, the annual Invest in Futures gala is the charity's principal fundraising event, and this year it was held at The Peninsula London in Belgravia. While King Charles has historically attended the annual event, this year, his letter proved extremely powerful, conveying the importance of the charity's work.  

A star-studded affair, Tom was accompanied by his fiancée Zawe Ashton for the festivities. Posing for photos together, the loved-up couple held hands and stared into each other's eyes. HELLO! even spotted lady in red Zawe telling Tom how "gorgeous" he looked in his tux. 

Rounding out the guest list, Prince's Trust ambassadors Joseph Fiennes, Jeremy Irons, Naomie Harris, Major Tim Peake, Luke Evans and Myleene Klass were also in attendance. 

Meanwhile, musical duo Rod Stewart and Jools Holland provided the entertainment, performing songs from their newly launched album Swing Fever, before handing the baton to DJ Cuppy.

It's been a royally busy week for A-lister Tom. Just 24 hours before the letter reading, the actor had been photographed meeting with Queen Camilla at Buckingham Palace. Attending a reception for the BBC's 500 Words Finalists on Wednesday, Tom appeared engrossed in conversation, enjoying a laugh or two with Camilla, and music star Olivia Dean.

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Before death. 3170 words.

1986

Led Zeppelin.

Talking Heads.

Public Enemy.

The Grateful Dead.

Brian Eno.

The Clash.

Metallica.

New Order.

N.W.A.

The Cure.

Tori Amos.

Black Sabbath.

Cat Stevens.

Patti Smith.

Fleetwood Mac.

There were a lot of cassettes in your car. Eddie looked through them with interest. Some were store bought, their original sleeves intact, and some were mix tapes you’d made yourself.

“This is the more modern stuff. It’s easy to fall behind when you live so many lifetimes. So, I try to update what I’m listening to every decade. This is mostly 1970s and 80s,” you told him.

“Where shall we begin?”

“With hair like yours… Metallica?”

Key turned in the ignition, you ran the car and pushed the cassette into the player. Fight Fire with Fire began, the first few bars melodic and calm. Then, it kicked in. Eddie flinched at the noise, surprised but not alarmed.

He leaned forward, like he was trying to decode something hidden deep within the music. Slowly, a wide grin crept across his face. He snapped to face you. “What is this?” he demanded in pure delight.

“This is music,” you replied with a casual shrug. “Specifically, this type is called metal,”

“I like it.”

Eddie looked like he was going to cry when For Whom the Bells Tolls played. Like the guitar riff and gothic sound effects were going to heal the undead body he lived in. Fade to Black made the vampire melt into his seat. He laughed then held a hand out to you. You took it, letting him thread his fingers through yours.

“I do not know what happened to me. But if it was the only path I could have taken to being here in this… car… with you and this music, then I am glad I took it,” Eddie said, closing his eyes before you could respond with expression or word.

You watched him for a moment. Something about him like this – relaxed, weird, beautiful – made you want to squeeze him. Dig your nails in. Bite to test for firmness. It was muscle memory, you realised. Your mind didn’t know Eddie, didn’t remember him, but your body acted as though she’d been by his side forever. It was too easy.

“Since we’re already in the car, should we go get you some more appropriate clothes? Maybe some other supplies too?”

One of the large neighbouring towns had a Walmart that had just been built, and it boasted 24/7 opening hours.

Eddie opened his eyes and cocked his head. “Little witch, are you attempting to court me?”

You laughed. “Are you asking me if I’m asking you on a date?”

“A date,” Eddie repeated. He was a quick study. “Little witch, are you asking me on a date?”

He expected you to blush or groan with denial. The anticipation of your reaction was written all over his face. You’d not play into his trap so easily. Instead, you shrugged and casually replied, “What if I am?”

Eddie couldn’t control his face entirely; his eyebrows shot up and he smiled. “Then ask,”

“Eddie the unhexed, my mortal enemy, will you accompany me on a date to Walmart?”

…

1587

At the age of twenty, Edward felt old. Although he had only graduated from his teenage years days earlier, as he stood on The Lion’s deck face to face with the Atlantic Ocean, he was weary.

His mother had died in childbirth, which was not uncommon. The world hadn’t begun to record statistics on such occurrences, but all things averaged, eighteen of every hundred women would perish before the birth day of their baby was done. Likely, it was much more.

Edward’s father looked at him like he was the murder weapon of his wife, life-taking and constantly reflecting a bloody image back at him. He treated his son worse. Not as a loaded pistol or sharpened axe, but as a contagion. The plague or measles. Typhoid or smallpox. Something that elicited disgust, a disease to rid himself of at the very first chance.

Edward was sold to a farmer at age seven, destined to a life of hard labour and loneliness.

However, Edward was a fighter. He fought the conditions of his gory birth. The miserable childhood. And the farmer’s distrust of him around his daughter, Lizzy.

He didn’t have eyes for Lizzy. He kept his head down, tended to the animals, worked the land, and waited to be released from his workman’s contract. For eleven years, the farmer underfed Edward. He staved off malnutrition through the kindness of the farmer’s wife, the only person the farmer treated worse than Edward.

He was beaten and broken in, the subject of the farmer’s displaced rage at not fathering any sons of his own.

On the morning of his eighteenth birthday, Edward stood at his post expectedly. The contract was done. He had earned his freedom. Perhaps there would be an offer of legitimate farm work, which Edward would decline regardless. Perhaps a parting gift of a letter of recommendation. Perhaps simply a nod of acknowledgment. But nothing came.

He knew better than to go inside the family house, but by mid-morning, Edward couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. Slowly, quietly, he crept in. Lizzy had grown up and left the farm, but there still should have been the noise of the wife.

The quiet was worse in some rooms than others. Edward followed the silence to the study.

The farmer was sitting in the corner of the room, curled up as if he weren’t the God-fearing iron-fisted master of the house. His rifle was held under his chin, ready for suicide.

The wife was sprawled out on the floor, eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, bleeding from somewhere Edward could not immediately see.

“Is she dead?” the farmer asked.

 Edward didn’t move.

“This is your fault, boy… Look what you made me do.”

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t Edward’s fault. A second dead mother would haunt him.

The gun went off, Edward flinched, half expecting to feel the bullet pierce through his body. His eyes were screwed shut and he was terrified to open them. He stood in the void of unknown for an entire minute. He counted the seconds in his head, one… two…, while he tried to imagine how he could have been the catalyst for the violence.

The sight of the farmer, face torn off and entirely limp, was seared onto the lens’ of Edward’s eyes forever.

On the desk was the contract signed when he was seven. His father’s signature had faded, the sign of cheap ink. Other documents were strewn around, including some that indicated to Edward that it was a possibility the farmer had no intention of honouring the contract’s end.

Among the papers, Edward found the key to the safe that was hidden beneath the staircase. Inside was what he considered to be a small fortune, but to the farmer it was pocket money. Edward took the cash, knowing he was incriminating himself, and returned to his post. He slung his one bag over his shoulder, took a horse, and never returned.

For days, weeks, and months after, Edward sat on the cusp of calm, always expecting to be hunted down and hung for a double murder. After a year, he slipped from the cusp and into a sense of normalcy.  

Edward found work in Plymouth, the port city home to enough taverns and underground establishments that he could choose between the kitchens or the brawling rings. He could butcher a pig as easily as he could take a punch. Ultimately, he earned the most when he picked up the lute and made music.

Despite landing on his feet, Edward lived in solitude, afraid that any woman he loved would meet an early death, and any man he trusted would turn on him for no reason. He went by the name Wayne, simultaneously distancing himself from his past while tying himself to it. Edward had only met his Uncle Wayne once. He had come for him when he was four, claiming that he could care better for his sister’s son than Edward’s father ever could.

When Edward was free from the farm, he considered trying to find Uncle Wayne. His father has ensured he knew nothing of the man though. He wouldn’t have known where to begin. Taking his name was all he could do.

For two years, Edward eavesdropped on the comings and goings of sailors, pirates, and kingsmen. In June of 1586, he heard of the return of ships from somewhere over the sea. They had run out of provisions. The attempt to colonise had been a failure. Next year. That’s what he had heard. Next year, they’d try again.

Edward felt, for the first time in his entire life, that he knew where he should go. The Lion’s manifest read Wayne Munson, birth 1567, and set sale on May 8 1587 with Governor White at the helm.

Sea travel was horrific. Edward was violently ill with motion sickness, his skin itched as the salt water dried on him, and he spent more time picking splinters out from under his nails than doing almost anything else. When, after two and a half months at sea, The Lion dropped anchor on the east coast of what would be come to known as North America, Edward could have kissed the earth. However, he was trying to maintain a low profile.

That is exactly how he came to learn that the violence he had been running from was an unstoppable force. In all his hope, Edward had underestimated the British’s capacity for it. When weapons were thrust into his hands at the turning of a war against the Native people of the land, Edward swallowed the stomach bile that had burst its way up into his mouth.

His mother’s death weighed heavily on him. The farmer’s wife too. Edward wasn’t a passivist, he had earned coin by beating men bloody, but he was not a killer. Certainly, he would not unjustly kill.

He thought maybe he could lie to the kingsmen, weave a story of priesthood. Here, in this new place, he would bring the holy word of God. A task the Queen herself would find more than noble. A task that could not begin with red on his ledger.

Alas, a colony of only a hundred would rely on each other. He had not the economic or social currency to show weakness. So, he fought.

Edward volunteered for any role that would take him out of the offensive lines. He went on reconnaissance trips and kept watch as others slept. He learned how to offer the most basic of medical aid, and how to sneak away from action without being missed.

It was on one of these secret trips that Edward came across a Native American who looked equally as surprised to see him. Edward had wandered off into the woodland that surrounded the colony, his weapon slung lazily over his shoulder, and his attention on the strange mushrooms growing along the forest floor.

The two men saw each other at the same time and froze in almost mirror positions.

Edward watched the man’s eyes flick to the weapon, then back to his face. He could tell he was reading him. Assessing what kind of White man Edward was. Slowly, Edward opened his hands and held them up, palms showing in a sign of submission.

“Peace,” Edward said softly.

The man took a step forward, a steely expression held firm. Edward tried not to flinch, instead offering a nod. The man came closer and closer until he could really see him. Neither of them wanted to cause the other harm. Edward knew that his individual intentions were irrelevant. He was part of a brutal regime.

In the distance, a gunshot echoed, startling both men. They ran in opposite directions, like two same-sided magnets repelling apart.

Edward told nobody of the encounter.

Just over a month later, the colonists were in a tense sort of truce with the Native Americans, but their resources were diminishing faster than they could be regenerated. They moved up the coast while the British fleet prepared to leave for England.

“If this is to be a true settlement, not a failure like Lane’s, we need provisions,” Edward listened to one of the colonists beg Governor White. It was a town meeting of sorts. “Return home. Tell them it was a mistake to come without a proper show of force. We need help.”

The fleet disappeared over the horizon near the end of August.

Within days, the knocking began.

Knock, knock.

When the sun set, a low mist would bleed out from the woodland. It came over the ocean, crossing the beach to get to the colony. Somewhere deep within it, something knocked twice, as if at a door asking for entry. They knocked on the hour, every hour until sunrise.

Knock, knock.

At first, the colony responded with a British stiff upper lip. They ignored it. They swallowed their fear. Then, when the cause for concern couldn’t be contained, they blamed the Native Americans. Except, it wasn’t how the Native Americans operated, and they hadn’t seen anyone but their own since the ships left.

Paranoia and dread set in. Superstition followed.

“What ungodly force has come for us?”

“Could it be the witches? They’re all over this land, you know!”

Edward listened to the unraveling of the people around him, but never offered his own theories or fears. Instead, one night, when the mist came in and the colony locked itself away, Edward found higher ground and watched. The mist was alive. There was simply no other conclusion to draw. It moved too quickly and appeared to have no relationship with the weather. It had a purpose. It licked around the settlement like it was hunting for something. Someone. Anyone.

Knock, knock.

Come morning, the colony’s livestock were slaughtered. Edward had stayed up all night, but he hadn’t seen it happen.  There had been no devils in the mist.

Knock, knock.

The children cried and the women kept themselves busy with work. The men burned the animals�� bodies, too afraid to eat any of the meat.

Knock, knock.

The next night, Edward took his perch again. And the next. And the next. Until, a week later, they came from the darkness.

He knew that they wanted to be seen. They knocked on doors, rapped knuckles on axes left in stumps. They knocked on trees and rocks, riding the fog in.

Edward saw them and there was nothing to be done about that. He saw their human forms wear human clothes but make inhuman movements. He saw them dancing, dragging animal carcasses behind them like royal capes. He saw them, and they saw him.

The colony was ripped apart. Men, women, and children all treated with equal brutality. Edward stayed positioned in his higher ground perch, witnessing evil while he held his breath and tried not to scream. Bodies limp like rag dolls. Blood drip drip dripping into buckets when neighbours were hung from trees. Horror. Carnage. Damnation.

It almost felt like mercy, Edward thought, the moment the warmth bloomed across his neck and down his chest. He stumbled as he stood from his hiding spot. The vampire was watching him curiously. Edward held a useless hand over the bite. It was mercy that he hadn’t seen the monster coming. He hadn’t felt the pain of the injury. He could just die, easily, simply, finally.

The vampire’s face broke out into a gleeful smile, its teeth off-white and sharp.

“Filius,” it hissed. Son.

The vampires had come for misery, mostly, but they had been watching the colony. They had watched the violence leveled at the Native Americans. They picked out their favourites, like children at a petting zoo. Favourites would be turned.

Edward had never been anyone’s favourite anything, until then.

When he dropped to his knees, the vampire was crouching before him. It reached out and patted Edward, watching his skin’s colour fade. Then, it pushed him onto the ground, leering over him.

Edward could feel himself dying. It was a strange sort of fading, unlike falling asleep, and nothing like he’d have expected. His senses were somehow still sharp. The sounds of the colony being bled and burnt. The smell of death and fire. He could see it all then, when the vampire bit down hard on its own wrist, tearing a gaping wound.

“Pótó,” it said to him.

Edward didn’t understand Latin, but he knew what it was saying. Drink. He held his lips together tightly. He would not follow at the heels of a monster. Whatever it wanted with him, he would not abide.

At first, Edward’s resistance amused the vampire. It let its blood drip and dribble onto his face. It grew bored quickly, clutching Edward’s head in its hands, its nails digging in, ready to pry his jaw open.

It was a blur. A weapon. Not enough to kill a vampire, but enough to send it tumbling away from Edward’s body. He felt strong arms wrap under him, pulling him up. Someone was dragging him away, yelling in a language he didn’t understand. There was fire, arrows dipped in it. Then, there was blackness.

Edward dreamed one last time.

The mist, it had still set itself upon the colony, but it wasn’t vampires. It was the witches. They looked like his mother and the farmer’s wife. Like the girl who could carry more pints at once than anyone else in the bar. Like the kid who lived on the streets that Edward would spare more money for than he could really afford.

The witches came with spells to heal and potions that tasted like warm honey, and reminded him of something he couldn’t place. They told stories to the children and baked enchanted bread with the women. For the men, there was nothing, but they watched from the sidelines with humility.

When Edward woke, the magic was gone.

He roared in pain, shooting up and panicking when his body was entirely out of his control, raging in agony, thrashing. Hands held him down, a voice doing its best to soothe him. It wasn’t enough.

Edward’s body felt hollow, like all his organs had shrivelled up, the blood lost through the septic wound in his neck. And, like any bones left inside him had shrunk too, turned brittle and too small to let him move as he wished. His flesh burned as if he’d been roasted on a spit. Everything was pain. There was nothing else.

It took only minutes for Edward to collapse again. He was vaguely aware of his own consciousness. Vaguely able to tell he was in some sort of cave or tree hollow. Something naturally formed and sheltered. Vaguely aware of a face he recognised hovering above him. As hands tried to stop the bleeding, Edward’s eyes closed.

End Note: For the anon that suggested it - 1986 Eddie listening to metal for the first time.

A huge thank you to @jo-harrington, who models exactly what it means to be a thoughtful writer. You help me navigate the writing world.

So... Did you ever think you'd get an Eddie origin story?

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel

[jokeroutsubs]

[NEW ENG TRANSLATION] I write songs in Serbian so my grandma can understand us too: The Joker Out frontman talks about Eurovision, his origins, and Belgrade Beer Fest

original article Written by Ljubomir Radanov for Kurir.rs english translation by @moonlvster proofread by X @ klámstrákur

Even though this year's Eurovision ended a while ago, some of the participants, like the band Joker Out, are still talked about. We're referring to one of the most popular pop-rock bands in Slovenia, whose frontman, Bojan Cvjetićanin, has become a real music star. It was this great European festival that allowed his popularity to reach beyond the borders of Slovenia. Ahead of their performance at the next Belgrade Beer Fest, which will be held from the 15th until the 18th of June [2023] in Belgrade, the 24 year old of Serbian origin, otherwise a sociology graduate, talks about his Serbian origins and upcoming visit to our capital city.

This is not your first time in Belgrade?

We had our first performance at the MAC event, but this is our first concert.

What do you have planned for it?

We'll perform as long as scheduled, around an hour, plus two songs, just enough to go over the limit (laughing). We are scheduled to play for about an hour, which means we'll be able to play a good percentage of our repertoire. If the audience is quiet, we'll have to talk to them and we'll play more songs (laughing).

Will you have some time to visit Belgrade?

Unfortunately, our plan is to leave immediately, because we are to perform in Slovenia the next day. Last time, we visited commercial places, met lovely people who promised us they will show us the real Belgrade and the places that only the locals know sometime. Ask me in a year and I believe I'm going to give a much better answer.

You attracted a lot of attention with your Eurovision performance.

How satisfied are you?

Eurovision is one of the biggest festivals in Europe, maybe even in the world.

It took six months of our lives and it was like a giant school trip or a travelling circus, carried out on the most professional level. We met a lot of creative people with whom we will be able to build a career abroad. We have gained a huge amount of fans. The only thing that didn't turn out how we imagined was our result, but in the end, that's less important to us than what we achieved with the audience.

Were you pleased with the score from the Serbian jury and the audience?

I thought I was going to burst with happiness when I heard we received 12 points! It was a magical moment.

Have you stayed in contact with the Serbian representative, Luke Black?

Of course. We became friends and we will probably meet at our concert in London in July.

Did you actually lose your phone at Eurovision?

It happened after the final, at an afterparty. I left it somewhere and it ended up with another country's delegation, but I got it back two days later. Still, I enjoyed not having a phone. The day after Eurovision, everyone was writing messages and being active on social media, and I spent that time with my family and friends. It was like I was in a different universe, completely calm and relieved.

How would you explain your music in terms of genre?

In 2017, we called our music 'shagadelic rock 'n' roll', based on the movie 'Austin Powers', which we adore. Our sound is an interesting mix of ex-Yu rock and roll and British pop-rock.

Who are your idols?

The Beatles, Arctic Monkeys, and Slovenian bands such as Siddharta and Big Foot Mama, and the Balkan bands Bijelo dugme, Indexi, Idoli...

What do you listen to in terms of modern sound from these areas?

The bands Buč Kesidi, Keni Nije Mrtav... We haven't had time to listen to music in the past year, we were constantly in some kind of chaos and noise.

Where did the idea of expressing yourself in your mother tongue come from, like, for example, in the songs 'Ona' and 'Demoni', which are in Serbian?

Every time I play our songs to my family, my grandma, who is from Banja Luka, can't understand the lyrics entirely. I wanted her to be able to understand perfectly what the poet wanted to say, and that's how the songs 'Ona' and 'Demoni' came about. With the song 'Ona', we wanted to capture the essence of the band Idoli¹.

¹The band 'Idoli' was one of the most remarkable new wave bands based in Belgrade, active during the early 80's. They are considered one of the most outstanding and influential representatives of the Yugoslav rock music and their album 'Odbrana i poslednji dani' ('Defense and The Last Days') was voted as the greatest Yugoslav rock album of all time.

Your family's origins are interesting.

My mom's side is from Banja Luka and Lebane, and my dad's side is half from Ličko Petrovo Selo, and the other half from Croatia and Slovenia.

You also act and host. Do you have ambitions in acting?

I would love to act more and I would be very happy if I acted in more serious roles. I've always played characters that were similar to me and I couldn't fully surrender to the charms of this profession. In high school, I acted in theatre, and if I get the opportunity to do that again or to film a movie, I wouldn't run away from it.

How do you see yourself in ten years?

I would love for Joker Out to be an established band around Europe, to have two children, and to live a normal life.

[reminiscingtonight]

Why Are You Here

Alex Morgan x Reader

Word Count: 892

A/N: This was originally part two of If I Hated You, but I took that in a different direction and already written most of this so I thought I’d just post this as a separate piece anyways.

[WOSO Masterlist]

We can never be friends. 

You hate those words. Hate them especially more when you see the way Alex is dancing with one of her teammates. Close. Bodies pressed tightly together. 

You down your drink, ignoring the way it burns on the way down.

It’s not like she knows you’re here. 

When Kristie had first asked, you told her you wanted to go home. The blonde gave you a pout. “We haven’t been to the club together in a while.”

You had just finished 90 minutes against San Diego. The last thing you wanted to do was go out to the club. Especially when all of you had to be on a plane again in less than 24 hours. 

Good thing you don’t like doing what’s good for you. 

You showed up to the club late. It’s hard to pretend you didn’t dress up just in case you run into your ex. Though the way you haven’t left your seat and she hasn’t left the dancefloor makes all of your efforts seem for naught.

You can tell the second Alex notices you. Her body stiffens, still dancing with her friends but not as fluidly as before.

You turn away. An excuse is muttered to your teammates before you’re heading for the bathroom. 

The walls are thin, but still thick enough to mute the thumping of the music outside. You sigh out a quiet breath, needing the slight reprieve. 

When you exit the stall, Alex is already there. 

Neither of you say a word as you wash your hands. You eye her warily, but Alex doesn’t make a move to enter your vacated stall or leave. 

You try to walk past her. She doesn't let you.

You try to breathe through your nose when she backs you up against the door. She reaches past you, locking the door. 

Alex pulls back just far enough so she can look into your eyes again. You raise your eyebrow, daring her to say something. 

She doesn’t. 

Instead, she kisses you. 

You kiss her back. 

You don’t stop her when she slides a hand down your jeans. 

---

Alex is already sitting with the others when you stroll in for brunch. 

Kelley glares at you for being late. You pretend not to notice it. 

You take a seat next to Kristie, making sure not to sit directly in front of Alex. Neither of you acknowledge the night you had. The morning you spent cherishing the other. 

When you catch the waitress, ordering your choice of brunch, you know Alex is thinking the same thing as you. How you led her back to your place, despite both of you too sober to be doing so. How she pressed you against your mattress, not letting you up until she was more than satisfied and your bones felt like jelly.

When you take a sip of your water, you make brief eye contact with her. You’re thinking about the way you pressed careful kisses against her skin as you helped her put her clothes back on. The way you rubbed away a smudge of lipstick you had missed on her nose. 

When the food arrives, you’re both thinking about the way Alex held you tight as she made her way to the door. The way she pressed a kiss against your lips before she slipped out into the early morning light. 

Kristie’s hand dropping on yours pulls you back into the present. “Where did you go last night? I went to the bathroom a little bit after you did, but you were gone.”

“I got tired. Went home early,” you shrug, keeping your eyes glued to your plate.

“Party pooper,” Kristie rolls her eyes, oblivious to the way Kelley’s glare kicks up two notches. 

You pretend not to notice it again. 

Alex doesn’t say a word either. 

Thankfully Kristie lets the subject drop, quick to talk about her holidays with Sam when you plant the seed.

Brunch passes without much fanfare. 

You’re quick to head to the bathroom before you all leave. Another brunette follows you to the bathroom this time. 

You’re washing your hands in the sink when Kelley lets her disapproval be known. 

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t.” Your words are deadly sharp. 

“You told me you were going home,” she reminds you. “You said you wouldn’t let Alex get to you again.”

“Why does it matter? We aren’t friends,” you snap, echoing what Alex had muttered into your ear before she resumed sucking a hickey into your neck. “No one’s getting hurt.”

“No one but you,” Kelley sighs. 

When the two of you leave, you pretend not to notice the way Alex watches you and Kelley with narrowed eyes.

---

You’re not sure how you got here. Everything happened in a blur. The celebrations. The drinks pressed into your hands. 

You’re not sure how you got here. But you can’t find it in yourself to complain. 

Alex tightens her grip on you, pressing herself closer against you. 

“We can never be friends,” she mutters, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself of her words. She only leaves your neck long enough to mutter those words before she’s kissing her way up your jaw again. 

You hum, but don’t say a word. 

No. You can’t be friends. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this while it lasts.