#gadzooks is out for blood

[ink4spots]

some doodles from class skwhsj

If you can't read my atrocious handwriting... The first bubble says (Aren't you the sweetest little thing?)

[theamityelf]

i am eating and chewing your yandere content, its so good, i love it so so much, if youre still taking requests maybe some yandere mukuro and naegi? I always think there's a lot of potential there but there's not a lot of content for it

Oh, I love it. I need to pick what time period I'm going with...

----

It didn't take much.

A smile, a greeting. Asking about her opinions and experiences. The time he asked if she needed help carrying her bag (and she had to run away because if he came any closer he would notice the smell of blood coming from inside it), the time he asked her if she was coming to lunch (and she blushed so badly, Junko later said her face looked like one big zit). Or maybe it was nothing to do with her at all; maybe it was because of how he was with everyone else, or how they were with him.

Maybe it was even as simple as the fact that she was used to traveling light, used to picking a few things she could carry and disregarding everything else.

She could carry him easily.

"Uh, Mukuro?" he said. "Are you okay?"

Right, she'd been staring. He'd taken the time to ask her if she wanted to join his group for ice cream after school, and she was being weird.

How embarrassing. She was definitely blushing again, now.

Well, it wasn't like that mattered. She was weird. She was socially inept and ugly and useless, and none of that mattered. Because the world was going to end soon, anyway. Maizono or Kirigiri could take him to a school dance, but Mukuro could pull him from the school before it turned into a warzone.

"Go on without me," she finally said. "I need to discuss something with Junko."

"Oh, okay. See you tomorrow!" Makoto and his friends vacated the classroom, leaving only...the 'despair sisters'.

Junko was sitting in her seat, filing her nails. Mukuro walked over to her and just stood there, waiting to be acknowledged. There was no doubt that her sister already knew everything she was feeling. She always did.

"Well?" Junko eventually said, her eyes meeting Mukuro's with cool amusement. "Are you too scared to ask, or do you just love wasting my time, skank?"

"I'm not scared," Mukuro answered. She did have a heightened awareness of the seriousness of this situation, but what she felt wasn't fear. "And...I'm also not asking."

"Gadzooks! Could it be that the worm has grown a spine?!"

"He can easily be spared from the plan. We don't need him in order to do what we intend to do."

"No sh!t, dumb*ss! The despair doesn't kick in when it's fvcking necessary!"

"The despair doesn't kick in if the plan doesn't happen, either." Mukuro's fingernails bit into her palms, as she forcibly steeled her tone and held her sister's gaze. She'd never threatened disobedience like that before. "You have everyone else in the class. You have me. You don't need him. Really, for a guy like him to keep his memories and watch them die that way...it would be more despairful than losing his memories and getting killed in the first or second round without understanding anything."

"So. You're suggesting he languishes in the data center while the killing game plays out, then you collect him in your nasty little arms once it's all over? Once the world is in ashes and there's no one else to love but you?"

"Essentially, yes."

Junko's lips curved. "And what's your contingency plan for how he'll react to knowing your designs for him?"

"He won't know about it until it happens."

And Junko's expression went blank, as though she found Mukuro's answer terribly boring. She rolled her eyes. "Fvcking atrocious. I can't even hint with you. Hey, Ultimate Soldier. You didn't secure your perimeter. Kind of a rookie mistake, dontcha think?"

"What?"

She dipped her head to the side, indicating a desk a few seats away where a familiar composition book lay open. "He forgot his notebook, smart*ss."

Mukuro wheeled around and heard a gasp from the doorway, and then retreating footsteps.

She broke into a sprint. Naturally, she was able to catch him, hand-gag him, and drag him into an unoccupied classroom before he could even think to yell.

Makoto's ineffectual squirming, his kicking and his elbowing, his growling and his vain attempts to speak...Mukuro was sure that she was blushing again, as she allowed more of her body to touch his than was strictly necessary to subdue him.

She was restricting his airflow, so he was going to pass out very shortly. And then she would have to contend with her sister. But for now...

"H-Hi," she said awkwardly, as he struggled in her arms. "Um, sorry. Sorry that I, uh...If I'd known that this would happen, I would've laid down a rug here. And maybe worn some perfume. I mean, I guess you can't breathe anyway..."

Fortunately, Makoto lost consciousness before she could say anything else.

She let go of him, so she could watch him slide out of her arms and rest on the tiles, all helpless. She took stock of what he must have overheard. Jeez, she must have sounded like such a pathetic, lovesick...

She heard Junko coming before the door moved. Immediately, she positioned herself defensively in front of him. Her sister was not allowed to kill him. That was the one thing in the world she wasn't allowed to do.

"Well, this is a clusterfvck, isn't it?" Junko deadpanned. "I guess not much of a cluster. It's just him. This one tripping hazard of a guy. I could just bite his little cheeks."

"I've never asked you for anything. Just him."

"Au contraire! You're not asking, remember? Where did that spine go? Did your body reabsorb it?"

"I-"

"This is boring. Take him to your dorm room, keep him there. I'll figure out what to do about this, as always. Can you manage an iota of stealth this time, you troll?"

Mukuro's heart soared. "Yes. Thank you."

"Oh, shut up. Out of my sight."

She princess-carried him to her room.

----

(I thought about making Kyoko the one who overheard, but the outcome there would be too similar to the Yandere Taka one.)

[clown-sip]

Cad Darling, you are more than your namesake. I assure you, I am not a Silver Spoon. I am a gray Earth Pony. And you are one of my tribe.

It does not matter if your other parts may come from other tribes because I too am not pure blooded.

I am half Unicorn on my mother's side.

You are a miracle of science but also your own person.

Take your time. Take all the time you need to chose who you want to be.

"That counts for something, right? And when Twilight gets back, I can visit Thunder, maybe. To answer gadzooks, yes. My creator and his doctor have frequent meetings. He's a good friend... I do like Coreposis or Cadillac. Maybe I can use those when I'm ready to go out into public. Thank you all for your support. It means a lot." -Cadaver

[ @ask-gadzooks @burnt-cheese-toastie @art-beyond-the-stars ]

[mrsdooggle]

@ask-gadzooks Bab: A very long time ago I was a guard on Luna’s night guard. We had orders to attack a dangerous thread. A village full of alicorns that use dark dark magic. We did and ran them out, but not before a survivor had placed a curse on me. She turned me immortal and into a creature that thirsts for blood…. So I’m not a bitten or born vampony I am a magic induced one. Hence why not all typical vampony ailments affect me.

[onippep]

(LET'S GO!!! I have a few ideas. Gather around. Let's get talking.)

(GOOD. YES. The least amount of pressure on him, the better!.. DO THAT! You guys will be AWESOME!)

(I'm...!! Struggling a bit to think of any, myself, but he won't ever say no to food! Rule of thumb!... Or money!)

RRrrrRR...!! (Making me blush...! Stop that. So nice...!)

(This is so haaarrrd. I think I'll need to delegate the nitty gritty and logic of planning this to someone else while I sort out my own ideas..!!)

(I am his roommate and I shower him with my affections at the limits he enjoys them, and I can dish out compliments and praise unto him whenever he needs it. However, to gift him something physical-- I do that every day! So something more meaningful than everything else... Rrrrrmmgf... I'll keep thinking. Big brain. Thinking takes energy. Takes time.)

(GOOD IDEA. I've got their number, I just need to grab Red's phone. I'm sure they'd love to help out. Gadzooks! You're all wonderful and smart! Making this so much easier for me!)

(BE ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOUR OR WE'LL HAVE VENT DAY PART 2. BLOOD AND GUTS EDITION. CAPEESH?!)

(Sorry! Sorry! Please. Please. Handle that. BWEE.)

(MOTHER MARY JESUS AND JOSEPH. WHERE DO YOU LOVELIES GET THIS MONEY?? SHOULD I BE CONCERNED?! I-- TH-THANK YOU, I'LL-- I'VE-- GOT A LOT TO THINK ABOUT NOW! BUON DIO!)

--Oni?? All good in here???

(Y-YEP--! EEP--! EVERYTHING'S FINE! QUIT SNOOPING. GIT.)

I ain't snooping-- I just though I'd check on what that noise was--!

(SHOO. SCIO. Go take your shower I'll be in shortly NOTHING IS WRONG HERE.)

Pfffbt, fucking goober. If you say so.

[sleepyowlwrites]

wip files tag fanfic edition

this time from @stuffaboutwriting

I said I was gonna do my fanfic doc the next time I did this, so that's what we're doing. the doc is called "Collections" and it's a scrivener doc so it's all organized.

Fandoms:

The 100 >

Punctuation > Question, Exclamation, Semi-colon, Comma, Full Stop, Ellipse

Sage/Clarke > Sage, Clarke

Other > Rowan

Shadowhunters > crash at bane's

Avengers (lordy this one oof) >

Guide to Caring for Your Spiderman > has a cold, isn't sleeping, is bleeding, is freaking out, awkward teen, needs his friends

Personal Protocol > Code: Night Troubles, Earth: 21st Century, Kitchen Manners, Leave of Silence, When You Can't Say Anything Nice, Training, Not Maiming, Benevolent AI

Battle Tactics > discuss crazy plans beforehand, have a little self-preservation, don't take unnecessary bullets, listen when your teammates talk, tell someone when you're going on a mission

Family > midnight ice cream, i'll get my shoes, stars in the city, hugs, hugs everywhere, kids these days, nobody hurts alone, i love you, too

Chicago P.D. >

Shots > Meeting, Blue Jay, Care About You, Olly and Spice, First Time, The Wayfarer's, Secrets

Power Rangers >

Samurai > Forest Secrets, Forest Secrets 2

Wild Force > Wishes on the Water, The Bear Necessities, Soul Searching, Curse of the Wolf, Battle of the Zords, Rlexiw

RPM > Dome Dolls, Rlexiw

Dino Charge > A Fool's Hour, Double Ranger, True Black, Wings of Danger, Rlexiw

ATLA > blood bending, character study

Misc. > The Chamber of Restitution

NCIS > Original > The Bulletproof Girl

Emberverse > ARMV > test run, irregular cartographies, IC: cast list

OTH > indulgence!

Top Gun > Reckless Endearment > Background, let's write scenes

Other Stuff >

Dialogue Prompts

Sentence Prompts

Conversation Prompts

Setting Prompts

Title Prompts

Templates

I said there were so many never to be written/finished avengers fics! there are 25. gadzooks.

anyway, uh, @flock-from-the-void @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @mjjune @wild-selenite-caffine OR ANYBODY list your wip files (and be as specific or general as you want. I'm just a weirdo)

[pesterloglog]

Jake English, Dirk Strider

Meat, page 39

JAKE: DIRK!!!

DIRK: Hey Jake.

JAKE: Well isn’t this a heap of shillelaghs and shamrocks!

DIRK: Uh...

JAKE: I had no idea you had plans to visit my humble abode!

JAKE: To swing about the ole manor du chez ingles as they say.

DIRK: That’s three different fucking languages.

JAKE: So what brings you here pal?

JAKE: I seem to recall the last time we were bumming about the rumpus cabana you swore some sort of blood oath youd never set foot in here again with one of your customary dramatic flourishes.

DIRK: Yeah, well.

DIRK: I meant it at the time.

DIRK: Let’s just leave it at that.

JAKE: Okie doke!

JAKE: GOSH its so good to see you.

JAKE: SO good.....

DIRK: Listen, man.

DIRK: You got a spare spaceship lying around?

DIRK: We’re going on a trip.

JAKE: Oh! I didnt even notice rose there.

JAKE: Wow she looks really zonked. Bad hangover i presume?

JAKE: Hold the phone wasnt she supposed to be off the sauce? Or is that not a thing anymore?

DIRK: It’s not a hangover. She’s just tired.

DIRK: Can you help us out?

JAKE: Of course mate. Ive got frickin scads of the things lying around.

JAKE: Prototypes. Top secret experimental models. Galaxy class ball busters dogeared for the whiteshirts in the gubmint! ;)

JAKE: They pay some tidy coin for all this industrio military whatsit you know.

DIRK: Yeah, um.

DIRK: I don’t know, dude. Anything, really.

DIRK: Something fast.

JAKE: Fast! We can do fast.

JAKE: Heres one! Oughta do you splendidly.

DIRK: Thanks bro.

JAKE: So where are we going?

DIRK: Yeah, I thought this misunderstanding might happen.

DIRK: My bad, man. I wasn’t that clear up front.

DIRK: “We” aren’t going anywhere.

DIRK: It’s just me and Rose on this trip.

JAKE: Ooh! I see.

JAKE: Well when you live the married life i suppose from time to time one must get away from the old ball and chain one way or another.

JAKE: So its a stag night of sorts. In space. With a gay girl instead of a fella!

JAKE: And... not me.

DIRK: Yes.

JAKE: Gadzooks...!

JAKE: Well say no more then.

JAKE: So um... how long will you be away? Does kanaya know about all of these shenanigans?

DIRK: Yes.

DIRK: We’ve discussed it. She’s ok with it.

JAKE: Whew good to see theres no trouble in paradise. Theyve always had the most lovely marriage.

JAKE: On the other hand you know how those dames can be... rargh!

JAKE: There are times let me tell you how i feel like i dodged a bullet by not jumping the matrimonial broom with jane.

JAKE: I love her to death obviously and id do fucking anything for her especially now that shes EL PRESIDEÑTE!!

JAKE: Cripes... woo boy sometimes i can hardly believe how that sounds but it sure is what happened isnt it?

JAKE: Partly thanks to a humdinger of a speech by yours truly but... um... but WOW never mind THAT old saw!

JAKE: What im saying is... i dont know what im saying? We guys need to stick together sometimes and live our lives and not...

JAKE: Well. Play such ornamental roles in the lives of our important and powerful womanly counterparts dear to us though they be!

JAKE: I think maybe im saying we should hang out more dirk??

JAKE: No pressure i mean! When you get back from your extraterrestrial camping trip of course!

JAKE: Um...

JAKE: When did you say you were coming back?

DIRK: I won’t be coming back, Jake.

JAKE: Like

JAKE: Wait.

JAKE: You arent...

DIRK: Coming back.

DIRK: Ever.

JAKE: Ever???

DIRK: Yeah.

JAKE: But...

JAKE: I dont

JAKE: Why dirk?????

JAKE: Please...

JAKE: Please take me with you dirk.

DIRK: I can’t do that, Jake.

DIRK: It’s not within the parameters of the mission.

JAKE: But...!

JAKE: What mission!

JAKE: I... cant do this alone dirk!

JAKE: This life... this... whatever is happening now. Whatevers expected of me...

JAKE: I cant do it.

JAKE: Not without you!

DIRK: You’re going to have to, man.

DIRK: Jane needs you now more than ever.

DIRK: She has a tough road ahead.

DIRK: It’s hard running a planet, but she’ll whip it into shape.

DIRK: I trust her, and so should you.

JAKE: B-but!

DIRK: She needs you at her side.

DIRK: If all goes well, she’ll rule Earth C for millions of years, and you’ll be critical to that reign.

JAKE: But i dont know what to DO dirk!

JAKE: I dont know HOW to help someone rule!

JAKE: I wouldnt know the first thing about... strategy or advising or policy or...

DIRK: Uh, Jake. Nobody wants you to do any of that.

DIRK: Well, I know Jane sure doesn’t.

JAKE: Then... what...

DIRK: You’ll just be, you know.

DIRK: Her candy boy?

JAKE: CANDY BOY???

DIRK: Yeah. Being on call.

DIRK: Serving a multimillion-year term of giving her the right kind of “presidential action” she needs to keep going. To keep her morale up and such.

DIRK: To provide her with many heirs.

DIRK: Doesn’t that sound cool?

JAKE: HEIRS??

DIRK: Yeah, like. Kids. A lot of them.

DIRK: Think about it. You could have thousands of kids.

DIRK: They’ll all grow old and die, because they aren’t god tiers like both of you are.

DIRK: But you just keep having more.

DIRK: Sounds pretty badass to me. Like getting to live through your entire future family tree.

DIRK: To watch your own endlessly branching dynasty flourish.

DIRK: I’m almost a little jealous.

JAKE: NO!!!

JAKE: That sounds... DREADFUL!

JAKE: DIRK PLEASE!

DIRK: Time to man up, Jake.

DIRK: This is what your life is now. It’s only bad if you treat it this way.

DIRK: It’s actually fantastic. Someday you’ll get it.

JAKE: No dirk!

JAKE: I cant bear to let you go!

JAKE: Youve... youve meant so much to me my whole life!

JAKE: I probably did a bad job of showing that because im such a shitty blubbering fucking numbnut IDIOT!

JAKE: You dont think i KNOW im a fucking bonehead who no one respects!!!

JAKE: But youre all i have to keep me anchored to ANY feeling of true self worth i ever had!

JAKE: You taught me so much! Remember the old days in sburb dirk?

JAKE: Those days were the absolute BEES KNEES! Jesus christopher CLOWNCOCK dirk!

JAKE: You taught me... taught me about...

JAKE: Combat! Philosophy! Life! Love!

JAKE: LOVE dirk!

JAKE: I dont... im so bad with feelings... i never said it when we were together but i... i...

JAKE: i LOVE you dirk!

JAKE: I LOVE YOU!

JAKE: THERE I SAID IT I LOVE YOU!

JAKE: IVE NEVER LOVED ANYONE SO MUCH IN MY WHOLE LIFE!

JAKE: Dirk im BEGGING you just take me with you!

JAKE: Its... its fine! You dont have to love me!

JAKE: Im ok with that! Whatever you want!

JAKE: I just need to be with you! Near you! ANYTHING!

JAKE: I cant stay here! Please not without you!

JAKE: I want to be anywhere but here as long as its with YOU!!!

DIRK: I’m sorry, Jake.

DIRK: But I’ll never let you break my heart again.

[finxwrites]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | on ao3

“—get help,” Tim finished when they stopped.

They were in the infirmary, three floors down. “Who was that?” Bart demanded as he deposited Tim on a cot and grabbed the nearest first aid kit. “How did he get in? How did he get the drop on you? Why is he here?” He assessed Tim’s injuries as quickly as he dared. Left leg broken below the knee, glancing gunshot wound to the right thigh, gunshot wound in his right shoulder—the bullet had gone right through, Tim’s shirt was soaked with blood both front and back and more kept pumping sluggishly out with each beat of his heart—bruised ribs, possibly broken, some of his fingers might be broken too—

Tim grabbed Bart’s hands and pulled him close. “Bart. Stop. You have to get help,” he ordered, staring Bart right in the eye with enough ferocity to cow Superman. “You can’t fight him, okay? You can’t outsmart him, you can’t outpunch him, you can’t surprise him. He’ll know every trick.”

Bart grinned. “Don’t worry, chief. I can still outrun him.”

Tim tightened his grip so hard his hands were like claws. Bart yelped, but it was fair enough—that would have been a pretty solid one-liner to zoom off on. “Bart, no. Do you hear me? Absolutely not. You have to get Batman. Or—or Superman, maybe, that might be better, but no, dammit, he’s off-planet…Wonder Woman, then, but then again with her lasso…Batman should see this first…but if it’s not…”

He kept trailing off, unfocused and vague. Bart vibrated worriedly. There was no blood on Tim’s head, but that didn’t guarantee he didn’t have a concussion. But honestly even that wouldn’t explain it. Tim was never unfocused in a crisis, not even when he was too woozy to stay vertical. And he was moving normally, talking normally, he was just…off.

Bart squeezed Tim’s hands. Tim’s eyes snapped to his. “Tim, who is this guy?”

“He’s…he’s a Bat.”

Bart grimaced. That would do it, yeah. “Is this another Evil Future Us scenario? Is that your brother from the bad timeline or something?”

Tim’s face crumpled alarmingly. “No. No, I really don’t think it is.”

Bart’s eyes went wide. He tried to give Tim a consoling hug but Tim still had a death grip on his hands. There were tears spilling from his eyes, Tim was crying, this was full DEFCON three or possibly even two, it took way more than a bullet and some broken bones to make a Bat cry, they were scarier than most metahumans about that sort of thing. “Hey, hey, it’ll be okay, alright? Gadzooks, Tim, you’re freaking me out, let me go so I can fix up some of those dramatic gaping wounds, how ’bout it.”

Tim made a face at ‘gadzooks’, which was the whole reason Bart had started using old-timey slang in the first place—well, the reason he’d kept using it, anyway. When he’d first arrived in the past, he’d been proud to get slang from the right century, much less the right year. He caught up quick, but by the time he did, he’d realized that the psychic damage dealt by saying ‘fiddlesticks’ with complete sincerity was absolutely worth sounding like someone who didn’t know the difference between ‘gross’ and ‘grody’. 

And it was good for moments like this. Tim didn’t crack a smile, but he did take a deep breath and let go of Bart’s hands to dash at his tears. Bart bandaged him up in a flurry of motion, fast enough that Tim didn’t even have time to yelp when Bart cut his shirt off his shoulder and wiped the area down with antiseptic. He didn’t have time to stop Bart from jabbing him with a hefty dose of localized anesthetic, either, and another one in his broken leg. Robin hated being drugged in the field, complained it would cloud his thinking, but after literally hundreds of fights over this Cassie and Kon had finally gotten him to concede that pain clouded his thinking too, fancy Bat training or no, and as such some tastefully applied numbness could perhaps sometimes occasionally be a good thing. He still griped like a wet cat about it half the time, but hey, superspeed! Better forgiveness than permission yadda yadda.

Only this time Tim was silent, just hissing in pain as Bart straightened his leg to splint it. He also didn’t answer any of Bart’s anxious questions, though that might have just been because Bart was talking faster than a normal human could process. Tim did not count as normal in this case, he could parse speedster babble better even than Kon, but he’d also lost a lot of blood to…whoever that was.

Bart forced himself to talk slowly as he tied off the splint. “So a Bat, huh?” Didn’t look like anyone Bart knew, but he hadn’t even known Steph existed until she’d been running around Gotham for half a year, and the new Batgirl had stayed a secret for even longer. “Should we call Nightwing?”

Tim looked at him, and it sent a chill down Bart’s spine. That was a look they all knew, a look they all wore from time to time—it was the I may be a superhero but I’m in over my head look. The I need an adult look, the I can’t do this, please don’t make me do this look.

It wasn’t a look you saw on Robin. It would have been a running joke in the Titans and Young Justice, if it weren’t for how it was less a joke and more just true: a Bat’s real superpower was competence. Always prepared, always unflappable, always so many steps ahead of everyone else they made it all look like a dance.

You’re not alone, Bart wanted to say, or, You’re the most brilliant person I know and there is nothing you can’t do, or even, We’ll call Nightwing and Batman and they’ll fix it, I promise. The words stuck awkwardly in his throat. He almost reached to brush away the fresh tears gathering in Tim’s eyes, but people were weird about that kind of thing in the past, and Bart had been here long enough that he’d gotten a little weird about it too.

So instead he flashed Tim the brightest grin he could muster. “So he’s a Bat. So what? So are you. And you’ve got one thing that blaggard doesn’t.”

Tim raised his eyebrows in a watery approximation of long-suffering exasperation. He didn’t actually sigh, And what might that be, Bart, but the sentiment was there, so Bart zipped back a step to give an ostentatious bow. He popped up with his arms out in a gymnast’s flourish and said smugly, “Me!”

The ghost of a smile passed across Tim’s lips. Bart fist-pumped too fast for him to see. “Alright, we gotta splint your fingers or something? Also do you want a snack?” he called from the mini-fridge. It was stocked full of emergency blood transfusion stuff, mysterious vials and compounds, and little yogurt cups with the good granola. Bart swiped a handful and grabbed a water bottle for Tim, too. Blood loss was a thirsty business. 

Tim flexed his fingers while Bart polished off his first yogurt cup. “I think I’m good,” Tim said. “I just need to wash off the blood.” Bart brought him a basin of water and some soap, just in case he was thinking of hobbling to the sink on two busted legs. Tim frowned at that, but obediently washed his hands. “You need to go get help,” he said again. “Not…not Batman or Nightwing. They would…We need to know what’s actually happening before we call them in, because if this is a trap—or worse, if it’s not—” He shuddered. “Get Batgirl,” he said decisively. “She can keep a secret, and she can take him even if that is superstrength.”

Tim finished washing his hands, so Bart whisked the basin away and got him a towel. “I mean, you’re the boss, Boss, but I vote I don’t leave you here to get axe murdered by Mr. Angry Pants up there, and I can’t get us out the way I came. Pretty sure you’ll die if I phase you through concrete. And I will not die but I will probably hurt myself jumping thirty feet, so I want it on the record that I bite my thumb at this plan just, like, on principle.”

“I’m not gonna get axe murdered, I’ll—Wait, you phased into the building? That’s supposed to be impossible.”

Bart smirked. “No, it’s impossible for the first thirty feet. Then it’s no sweat. Well, for a Flash.” He buffed his nails on his shoulder and struck a disaffected pose.

Tim’s face squinched up in irritation. Bart crowed internally—he’d beaten Robin’s security system. Tim saw the glee on his face and threw the towel at him. “How did you break the curse, though? It’s supposed to knock out and trap anyone who makes it through the walls.”

“Oh is that what it does? Huh. Fancy that.” Bart nonchalantly inhaled another yogurt cup.

“Bart, what did you do?”

“Nothing bad! Don’t look at me like that! It’s actually very impressive, you should be impressed. I bet Wally will be impressed when I tell him.”

Tim moved to fold his arms, winced at the pain in his bandaged shoulder, and settled for intensifying his glare. Bart wilted a little in spite of himself. Robin glares were no joke. “I didn’t break the curse,” he admitted. “I’m kind of outrunning it in the Speed Force.”

Tim gave him a look of such baffled, offended outrage that Bart almost ran to get a camera. “How—That’s—You—How—”

Bart winked.

“I hate you,” Tim settled on, nearly sputtering with fury. “I hate you and your stupid Speed Force so much. That doesn’t even make sense, why is magic like this, I am going to strangle the next wizard I see—”

Bart cackled and cracked open another yogurt cup. “We should probably deal with that at some point, by the way, I don’t know how long until it catches up to me.”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. But it was an exasperated sigh of Why is my life a comedy of errors, not a fragile, miserable sigh of Bat drama turning into Bat trauma, so Bart did a little jig as he finished his yogurt.

[sir-subpar]

Samwell Lore Post!

Below the cut!

Samwell is Pansexual

I have kind of a headcanon voice for him: I imagine he has a slight southern accent

He's 28 years old

He's the second tallest out of the main cast, over 6ft tall.

Samwell's rib bones aren't his clothes, they're part of his actual body. He can move them, they can retract into his body, and he can open them, which kind of exposes his torso a bit, so it's not his favorite.

Samwell is, as you know, a scarecrow! But he isn't entirely fabric and straw- he actually has some blood, bones, and other anatomical insides. No one's quite sure how he was brought to life.

In this world, scarecrows are common, but sentient ones like Samwell? With (some) anatomy? Not common.

Samuel's anatomy and overall sentience fascinates Dr Damus. He wants to study Samwell, but Sam doesn't like the fact Dr Damus asks so many personal questions about his anatomy. He finds Dr Damus unsettling. 

His ribs are ticklish ;) play em like a xylophone! He'll die laughing.

He has teeth. A surprising amount of teeth. 

He has a spine.

He actually has a last name, it's Proctor. Samwell Proctor.

Samwell, despite his soft appearance and voice, is actually really strong. He was designed to be the protector and caretaker of the farm, so he was given a lot of strength.

He could break someone's upper arm by punching it

Samwell can eat, but he has no necessity for it. He doesn't need food or water to survive, so he doesn't eat often. He only really needs to sleep occasionally and he's all good.

That purple part of his face is actually stitched on, as you can tell. He hurt his face years back, real bad. Patches like that are basically the Scarecrow equivalent of having scars. He has a lot of them on his body, he's been in some nasty fights.

He has a shotgun.

Before he learned how to properly control his strength, he tried to give someone a handshake... he broke their hand. (It was accidental, of course.)

His creator died years ago, so he lives alone on the farm. It gets lonely out there.

Having Y/N with him, getting to share the farm with someone he loves- priceless!

He's kind of a hopeless romantic.

He's one of those people who doesn't really like to swear, and so he says random food things instead of swearing, like "sugar honey iced tea", or "sweet hickory ham!" Either he'll do that, or he'll say one of those old-school "swears" that barely mean anything nowadays like "Gadzooks" or "Balderdash" 

I mentioned before that Sinthia pranked him by enchanting part of the farm to grow nothing but zucchini. It always grows no matter what. At first, Samwell was just confused, but didn't mind it so much. He just occasionally thought "I don't remember planting zucchini," and shrugged it off. After a while though he started getting sick of zucchini, so he stopped watering it and hoped it would just wilt. It didn't. No matter how little he cared for it, it always grew.

Over time, he got so done with it, he just went out there and ripped all the plants out by the roots with his bare hands. It took him hours. The next day, he woke up and went outside, and saw that all the zucchini Plants had grown back good as new. 

Now he just harvests those zucchini, and leaves crates of them on people's porches every morning. (It's actually how he meets Y/N) 

~How about some Samwell x Y/N stuff?~

Since I already started talking about the zucchini stuff, here's how he'd meet Y/N:

Y/N has just moved into town, they're finally settling in their new house. Early in the morning, to hear something on their porch. Terrified by this possible intruder, they grab something for self defense, and throw up in the front door- bracing themself for a fight! Only to see a farmer crouched on their front steps with a wooden box. Startled, he freezes, looking at Y/N wide-eyed. He awkwardly sets the box down, and backs away slowly. Once he reaches the sidewalk, he books it. Running away.

As I've mentioned, Samwell was made to work and care for others. Because of this, he's not accustomed to others taking care of him and he doesn't do much besides work. He's internalized this belief that it's silly for others to care for him, and that he has to be productive. Thanks to this, he doesn't really have many hobbies, and he's hard on himself if he's not being productive. If Y/N can get him to relax, kudos to them! Helping him find and explore new interests and hobbies, awesome!

He's never been in a romantic relationship before Y/N, but he's always wanted a family. The closest thing to family he had was his creators, and they were more like bosses to him. He longs for connection.

As Y/N will learn, Samwell is actually pretty affectionate once they're together. He loves to do nose nuzzles!

He can carry Y/N on his shoulder. He absolutely spoils Y/N if they let him. He's not good about being spoiled though. He doesn't know how to handle someone caring for him. He doesn't see himself as deserving of spoilage. 

Kissing him might be tricky with his mouth stitches, but Y/N is welcome to try.

He's always had to be strong, always had to keep his pain to himself. He has trauma he's never really addressed. (You know that thing where a character doesn't realize they're crying until they touch their cheek and see it's damp? And then they just… break? That's him.)

He's not used to someone comforting him, so finally having a shoulder to cry on for the first time in his life, someone who won't judge him for being vulnerable, someone who just… loves him? Best thing he could ask for.

As Samwell and Y/N's relationship develops, they'll discover what kind of things they like, affection wise. (He didn't know this until this point, but he likes it when someone holds his face/head. Caressing his cheek, lightly moving his hair out of the way… and if he really trusts them, he'll let them touch his stitches/patches/scars)

If Y/N has hair or fur, he likes to run his fingers through it.

He likes… for lack of a better term, belly rubs. He finds it relaxing when someone rubs circles on his stomach (and chest).

He is 100% willing to give his significant other massages. ( Thanks to his strength, he can really work out knots in muscles)

Hugs. Yes. He never hugs people with his full strength, because that would literally crush most people to death, and he doesn't like to hurt people unless it's necessary. You can hug him as tight as you want though. He can take it.

He can be protective, but he's not a jealous person. He understands that Y/N has a life outside of spending time with him (like a normal person)

If Y/N is stronger than him, then he won't lie, he thinks it's kinda hot.

If Y/N holds him in a bridal style? Oh he will MELT. He's strong, but not really dominating, personality-wise.

He's easily flustered. Flirting with him turns him into a stuttering, giggling, mess. 

That's all for now. Any questions? Ask away!

[jgthirlwell]

2021 Year In Review

This year once again I invited some friends and colleagues to reflect on 2021

JG Thirlwell

Composer 
Foetus Xordox Manorexia Steroid Maximus Venture Bros Archer

Here are a lot of albums I enjoyed in 2021, in no particular order.

Low Hey What (Sub Pop) Amon Tobin How Do You Live (NoMark) Caterina Barbieri Fantas Variations (Edition Mego) Michael Gordon and Cello Octet Amsterdam 8 (Canteloupe) Gazelle Twin and NYX Deep England (NYX Collective Records) / Gazelle Twin Welcome to the Blumhouse Nocturne OST (Lakeshore) Floating Points & Pharoah Sanders Promises (Luaka Bop) Damon Locks Black Monument Ensemble NOW (International Anthem) Murmuüre Murmuüre (Bandcamp) Le Silo 3.27830 (Disc Union) Black Midi Cavalcade (Rough Trade) Red Fang Arrows (Relapse) Gojira Fortitude (Roadrunner) Royal Blood Typhoons (Warners) Alarmist Sequesterer (Small Pond) Melvins Working With God (Ipecac) Danny Elfman Big Mess (ANTI) Gaspard Auge Escapades (Because Music) Noveller Aphantasia (Bandcamp) Cheap Trick Another World (BMG) clipping Visions Of Bodies Being Burned (SubPop) The Bug Fire (Ninja Tune) Pan Daijing Jade (Pan) Blanck Mass Calm With Horses OST (Invada)/ In Ferneaux (Sacred Bones) Converge and Chelsea Wolfe Bloodmoon I (Epitaph) Hiro Kone Silvercoat The Throng (Dais) Space Afrika Honest Labor (Dais) Rob Aiki Aubrey Lowe Candyman OST (Sacred Bones) Andrew WK God Is Partying (Napalm) Jonny Greenwood The Power Of The Dog OST (Invada) The Fraternal Order of the All The Fraternal Order of the All (YouTube) Giant Claw Mirror Guide (Orange Milk) Sourdure De Mort Viva (Les Disques du Festival Permanent) Manchester Orchestra The Million Masks of God (Lomo Vista) Teho Teardo Elipses dans l'Harmonie (Specula) Idles Crawler (Partisan) Suryummy Polynators (Constellation Tatsu) The Armed Ultrapop (Sargent House) VoidDweller Employee (Bandcamp) Daniel Davies Spies (Sacred Bones) Muqata’a Kamil Manqus (Hundebiss Records) Sparks Annette OST (Milan) Caleb Landry Jones Gadzooks Vol 1 (Sacred Bones) Lana Del Rey Blue Banisters (Polydor) Zombi Liquid Crystal EP (Relapse) Ursula Sereghy OK Box (Gin and Platonic) Helm Axis (Dais) Squid Bright Green Field (Warp) Kyoka Is (Is superpowered) (Raster) Bryce Dessner / Ensemble Resonanz Tenebre (Resonanz Raum) All Traps On Earth A Drop of Light (AMS Records) Kemper Norton Troillia (Bandcamp) Real Loud Real Loud (New Focus)

Film and TV

Year of the Dog Bacurau Zola The French Dispatch Pen 15

Live performances

Didn't see too many this year but standouts were Tredici Bacci (three times) Idles Human Impact Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe King Crimson LustSickPuppy Lydia Lunch Tyshawn Sorey

Books

I read a ton of memoirs this year. Standouts were Mark Lanegan Sing Backwards and Weep Duncan Hannah Twentieth Century Boy Bruce Springsteen Born To Run Edward Norton Permanent Record John Lurie The History Of Bones David Crosby Long Time Gone Wayne Kramer The Hard Stuff

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Thurston Moore

Thirty killer recordings I had the pleasure to come across in 2021, all new performances from a galaxy of inspired lights. Keep on shinin’, friends! ---Thurston Moore / Sonic Life

1. Seafoam Walls - XVI (Daydream Library LP) 2. Xopher Davidson - Lux Perpetua (Daydream Library LP) 3. Wobbly - Popular Monitress (Hausu Mountain cassette) 4. Farida Amadou & Pavel Tchikov - Mal De Terre (Trouble In Mind cassette) 5. Luke Stewart - Works For Electric Bass Guitar (Triptickstapes cassette) 6. Ana da Silva & DJ Mooncup - Shouting Out Loud (Noods Radio cassette) 7. Joseph Nechvatal - Selected Sound Works (1981-2021) (Pentiments cassette) 8. Wharton Tiers - Wharton's Expanding Jazz Band (self released digital) 9. Moor Mother - Circuit City (Black Quantum Futurism LP w/ Playbill) 10. Michael R. Bernstein - Blind In Sight (self released cassette) 11. Marshall Trammell & Aaron Turner - Experimental Love I & II (Sige cassette) 12. Jaimie Branch - Fly Or Die Live (International Anthem 2XLP) 13. Twig Harper - Classical Electronics (Radical Documents cassette) 14. Ava Mendoza - New Spells (Relative Pitch cassette) 15. Michael Morley - Electric Guitar (Radical Documents cassette) 16. Gerald Cleaver - Griots - (Positive Elevation LP) 17. Title TK - Metallic TK (self released cassette) 18. Sophie Cooper - Goodbye Gemini (Borley Rectory cassette) 19. Co-ed - s/t (Sludgepeople cassette) 20. Gergesenes - Exorcism of the Gerasene Demoniac (Banner Of Blood cassette) 21. Orphan Fairytale - Titania Moon (Ultra Eczema LP) 22. Joe Morris & Damon Smith - Gusts Against Particles (Open Systems LP) 23. The Bohman Brothers - In Their 70s (Fort Evil Fruit cassette) 24. Natalie Beridze - Mapping Debris (Monika Enterprise cassette) 25. Tasos Stamou & Alan Wilkinson - Whenever (Ikuisuus cassette) 26. Irons - Unto The Kingdom (self released digital) 27. Alan Braufman & Cooper-Moore - Live at WKCR May 22, 1972 (Valley Of Search 12”) 28. Nihilist Spasm Band - Nothing Is Hard To Do (But We Try) (We Are Busy Bodies 7”) 29. Gaahls WYRD - The Humming Mountain (Season Of Mist 10”) 30. White People Killed Them - (Sige LP)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tom Recchion

LAFMS

Best of 2021

Music Elephant9 - Arrival Of the New Elders and their whole catalog (Rune Gramophone) Gentle Fire — Explorations (1970 - 1973) (Paradigm Discs PD 35) Allen Ravenstine - Shore Leave & Electron Music (Wave Shaper Media WSM 05.6) Allen Ravenstine - Nautilus & Rue Du Poisson Noir (Wave Shaper Media WSM 07.8) Joni Mitchell - Archive Vol 1 & 2 -plus the whole initiative (I’m waiting on the vinyl for #2) (Rhino) Needlepoint - Walking Up That Valley and their whole catalog David Toop and Ryuichi Sakamoto LIVE (ThirtyThree ThirtyThree Records TTTT0070) David Toop, Akio Suzuki & Lawrence English - “Breathing Spirit Forms” (Room 140 RM4171) Doris Wishman - “The Best Of…” (Modern Harmonic MH-8236) Something Weird Spook Show Spectaular A-Go-Go (Modern Harmonic MH-8205) Psychedelic Sex Kicks -soundtrack (Modern Harmonic MH-8223) CAN - the 2 LIVE albums (MUTE/SPOON) Evind Aarset/Jan Bang - Dream Logic - “Surrender” in particular 2012 (ECM) Thomas Stronon - Mercurial Balm (ECM) Smegma - Name Of the Frame (Molokoplus Records Plus 135) Jefferson Airplane - Acid, Incense and Balloons (RCA 194398442617-RSD) Jimi Hendrix Experience - :Paris 67 (Dagger Records 19439893031) LAFMS - Los Angeles Free Music Society VOD box (Vinyl On Demand VOD171)

Music Rediscoveries/Reappraisals/New Appreciations John Lennon Plastic Ono Band The entire Jefferson Airplane catalog Radu Malfatti/Stephan Wittwer - Und? (FMP 0470)

Viewings Succession (HBO) Get Back (Disney+) P.S. Burn This Letter Please (Kanopy)
Plan 9 From Outer Space (b/w & colorized) Anytime day or night The Mandalorian (Disney+) The White Lotus (HBO) Blown-Away (Netflix) The Great British Pottery Throw-down (HBO Max) What We Do In The Shadows (EFX) Velvet Underground  the Todd Haynes doc (AppleTV) Jorma Kaukonen Quarantine Concerts from Fur Peace Ranch with on occasion Hot Tuna. Streaming performances every Saturday night. For Free. Stunning and so generous. (YouTube)

Books Joe Potts - “Daily Planet” Hesse Press Butte Free Music Society “Sputterring and Distorted/A Reluctant History Of the BUFMS/Butte County Free Music Society/ Encyclopedia Spastica by Fen Addison with S. Glass That's How Strong My Love Is by David Loehr Organic Music Societies by Lawrence Kumpf Along Comes The Association by Russ Giguere Canyon Of Dreams by Harvey Kubernik The World’s Worst: A Guide To the Portsmouth Sinfonia by Christopher M. Reeves, Aaron Walker, et al. The Lyrics of Syd Barrett by Rob Chapman A New Day Yesterday by Mike Barnes Side By Side by Robert Wyatt & Alfie Benge When Can I Fly/The Sleepers, Tuxedo Moon & Beyond by Michael Belfer Creatures of the Night That We Loved So Well/ TV Horror Hosts of Southern California by James M Fetters The Art of John Schroeder - Private Press Bruce Houston - An Exceptional Artist with an Odd Sense Of Humor - Private Press Bruce Houston - Hospital Drawings - Private Press

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tim Parkinson

Composer

BOOKS Helen Marten - The Boiled In Between Polly Barton - Fifty Sounds The poetry of Jeff Hilson 3 volumes of Picasso biography by John Richardson James Castle: Memory Palace by John Beardsley

MUSIC Minds in Flux by George Lewis Xanadu by Mildred Couper String Quartet No.5 by Matteo Fargion Natural World by Laurence Crane The amazing live performance by Siwan Rhys and Mark Knoop of Çoğluotobüsişletmesi by Clarence Barlow Gated - Alex Ward (Discus) Electric music - John White (ANTS) Pain Olympics - Crack Cloud (Meat Machine) gwneud a gwneud eto/do and do again - Angharad Davies (all that dust) The Boring Music Show (keithfem.com)

TV/FILM P’tit Quinquin In Between Portrait of a Lady on Fire Vivarium Parasite Roma Bacarau Capernaum

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Felix Kubin

Composer

Some wonderful (re-)encounters and sad farewells.

Francoise Cactus (1964 - 2021) The queen of the Berlin underground. A real anarchist and a very dear friend who died much too young.

Peter Rehberg (1968 - 2021) A great personality with a true passion for independent, experimental music and a cutting sense of humour. His brilliant mind will be missed.

Alvin Lucier (1931 - 2021) One of the most important encounters of my life. I interviewed him in 2004 in New York for my radio play „Paralektronoia“. His idea to focus on the room reflections instead of the original sound source changed my view on music profoundly.

Bernd Schurer Suisse Klangkünstler, psycho-acoustician and film composer who I met 20 years ago. One of the last romanticists who has always lived his life to the extreme.

Victoria Keddie A brilliant video artist, musician, telescopist and curator with a glint of flamboyance in her eye.

Matt Wand Genius quick-change artist, transformer and plunderphonic confusionist. A collaborator of things unreal.

Lucrecia Dalt A sculptor of romantic electronic songs on the edge of the unorganic. Our messenger of alien night life. Outlandish, poetic and courageous.

Doug Shipton Doug, half of Finders Keepers Records and half a cypress tree. His friendship is a constant breeze of fresh air in my mental locker.

Booty Carrell One of my oldest friends. A fantastic (radio) DJ and archaeologist of the obscure paths of world music. Also a great supporter of young musicians. I need to visit him soon.

Knut Aufermann & Sarah Washington The most inventive and (in the best possible sense) megalomaniac radio artists and curators I know. Close friends and wine enthusiasts, too.

Lucile Desamory A supernatural film maker, performer, martial arts fighter and telepathic friend.

Marie Losier My dear Marie! A brilliant film artist who breaks all the rules with a thunderous laughter.

Sven-Åke Johansson A genius performing artist who - at the age of 78 - constantly amazes with inventive, bizarre and cheeky ways of playing his "exploded drum set".

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Teho Teardo

Composer

I dreamt the pandemic would have stopped us all being able to learn. Like a fracture, a refusal to absorb anything further. We didn’t understand it was happening. Unconsciously I guess I’ve been looking for answers in books, films, music. More than ever. Here’s something I think I’ve found:

3 books Claire Keegan - Small things like these Max Porter - The death of Francis Bacon Ernesto De Martino - La fine del mondo

3 music books John Lurie - The History of Bones Gilbert Rouget - La musique et la transe. Esquisse d’une théorie générale des relations de la musique et de la possession Eliane Radigue - Intermediary spaces

3 books I gave as presents Carlo Ginzburg - I Benandanti Chandra Candiani - Questo immenso non sapere Graham Duff - Foreground Music

3 books given to me Claire Keegan - Foster Kae Tempest - On connection Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing - The mushroom at the end of the world

3 albums Lump - Animal Masma Dream World - Play at Night Richard Skelton - Four Workings

3 albums I gave as presents Matt Sweeney & Bonnie Prince Billy - Superwolves Giancarlo Toniutti - Batlahatli David Shea - The Art of Memory

3 albums given to me Luigi Maramotti - Knot Music Xordox - Omniverse Massimo Toniutti - Il museo selvatico (reprint)

3 songs I wish I had written Pino Daniele - Appocundria (Because of my reoccurring dream in which I call a friend in Napoli pretending to speak neapolitan) Robbie Basho - Blue Crystal Fire The Ghost of Sauris (I suppose I wrote it, but I dreamt it was written by someone else, since I couldn’t fine anyone who has written it I guess it came to me as a dream, but I keep thinking it belongs to someone else)

3 songs discovered by chance using Shazam Charlie Megira - The Coochimama Swingers (bookstore in Brooklyn) Lee Scratch Perry - Having a Party (record store in Roma) Blake Mills - Vanishing Twin (taylor in Roma)

3 films L’isola di Arturo (Damiano Damiani) The Power of the Dog (Jane Campion) Todo Modo (Elio Petri)

3 albums I’ve just picked up from a shelf using a random numeric generator Vivenza - Réalités Servomécaniques P16D4 & Swimming Behaviour of the Human Infant - Nicht Niemand Nirgends Nie! Steroid Maximus - Quilombo

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

MV Carbon

Composer / Perfromer

2020-2021 Abounding Sound

impaired data declares achievement sensitive souls drown in bereavement maskless spew infiltrates dew hope maneuvers the residue spike proteins, vaccines gouge our arm hinting we are far from harm delusions dissolve contemplation assumptions contaminate the population social media distorts our sense with vapid poses of self pretense grotesque beauty smears the screens comparing bodies, achievements, dreams deep fakes intimidate misinformation procures high rates speculations bubble on exposed lips supply chains coagulate with skewed ships consumerism blasts junk into space   the wheezing earth melts in place landscapes rise like a tainted lung repulsions leech onto songs unsung games of stillness heal stress friendships seek more realness constrained voices contend to shout compassion eradicates fear and doubt rhyme rhythm music meaning dancing kissing crying gleaming abounding sound inspired together shifts life altogether

-MV Carbon

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Steve Moore

composer, Zombi

2021

I don’t know too many people who can honestly say they had a great year. I certainly can’t, but here are some things that helped get me through this mess.

Psycho Goreman It’s funny, violent, gory and even heartwarming at times. Great practical effects and creature design, and the cast was incredible - especially Mimi. Fantastic film, highly recommended.

Marvel’s What If… Full disclosure, most of what I watched this year was with my kids, so that skews things a bit. But having been a fan of the “What If…” comics series as a teen in the late 80’s/early 90’s, I truly appreciated the work they put in on this one. Some episodes are better than others, but the season finale pulls it all together in an incredibly satisfying way. And fun for the whole family!

Keith Mansfield - KPM ‘Vivid Underscores’ This album was originally released in ’77, but it just received a well-deserved reissue from Be With records. Library music is absolutely my jam, and this has been on my want list for years. Evocative underscores that will make your life feel way more exciting. I like to listen to it while cleaning, or driving.

Night Lunch - “House Full of Shit” I don’t know anything about this band and have not heard any of their albums, but a friend hipped me to this tune and it’s incredible. Definitely watch the video.

Pino Palladino + Blake Mills - “Ekuté” My favorite 5 and a half minutes of music released this year. I’ve been a fan of Pino since Paul Young covered Hall & Oates’ “Every Time You Go Away” back in ’85, and I love watching him mature and grow as a musician. The entire album, ‘Notes With Attachments,’ is incredible, but this song really does it for me. I’m a big fan of 70’s West African music and these dudes really nail the groove, and add their own special touch.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

John King

Composer

My 2021 Highlights:

music - (in no particular order)

Future Faith - Lime Rickey International

Dirge - Joanna Mattrey

Work for Upright Bass and Amplifier vol.1 (vol.2 releases 2022)- Luke Stewart

That Was Then, This Is Now - Christina Wheeler

Afrofuturism - Michael Wimberly

Migration of Silence Into and Out of The Tone World – [Volumes 1–10] - William Parker

Wild At Heart - Pauline Kim Harris; Chaconne Project

Cairns - Gelsey Bell

Coin Coin Chapter Four: Memphis - Matana Roberts (released 2019, acquired 2021)

i was gifted by a friend the complete live Hendrix/Band of Gypsys at Fillmore East 1969-1970 - "Songs for Groovy Children” - spent a good part of Jan/Feb 2021 with my guitar tuned down a half-step, playing along with, re-learning the tunes, licks, solos from this amazing set of 8 LP’s

Before going into live in-person recording sessions in the fall 2021, I re-discovered and also played along with the tunes/energies of: Sonny Sharrock - Black Woman

Black Unity Trio - Al-Fatihah

Julius Hemphill - Dogon A.D.

movies - The Present - Farah Nablusi (BAFTA-winning and Oscar-nominated) a beautiful 20min long film, which captures the brutal, unjust inhumanity of Apartheid Israel through  the reality of what a Palestinian family must go through following “a day in their life”. A MUST SEE FILM.

Summer of Soul (…Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised)” - Ahmir “Qwestlove” Thompson more than a live concert film, this is about an era, the time of a “before/after” moment in culture and society. I hope Qwestlove makes a director’s cut that in 24 hours long, with ALL the live concert footage.

books - Against The Loveless World - Susan Abulhawa

You Exist Too Much - Zaina Arafat

The Little Edges (pub. 2015, acquired 2021) - Fred Moten

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jason Berry

Nubdug Ensemble / Vacuum Tree Head

Favorite musical releases of the past year-or-so:

G Calvin Weston - Hydrogen 77 Frank Zappa - 200 Motels (50th Anniversary Box Set) Jair-Rohm Parker Wells / Robert Musso / G Calvin Weston - Wells Musso Weston Prince - Sign 'O' the Times (Box Set) The Galaxy Electric - Tomorrow Was Better Yesterday The Splatter Trio with Steve Benson - It's a Stool Pigeon Universe (book + CD package) Headboggle - Digital Digital Analog Pat Metheny - Side Eye NYC Pas Musique - Psychedelic Talismans Chris Potter Circuits Trio - Sunrise Reprise Dax Pierson - Nerve Bumps Stereolab - Electrically Possessed (Switched On Vol. 4) Pino Palladino and Blake Mills - Notes With Attachments Chansons du Crépuscule (Elliott Sharp + Hélene Breschand) - Aube Henry Threadgill Zooid - Poof Amanda Chaudhary - Meow Meow Band Xordox - Omniverse Interstellar Grains - Cubed

Recent reading, maybe not all were published this past year: Joy Harjo - Poet Warrior: A Memoir Malcolm Gladwell - Talking to Strangers Yuval Noah Harari - Sapiens Colson Whitehead - Harlem Shuffle Elliott Sharp - IrRational Music Jim Woodring - And Now, Sir - Is This Your Missing Gonad?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

DJ Food

Music: Snow Palms - Land Waves LP (Village Green) Robert Fripp - Music for Quiet Moments (DGM) DJ Format - Devil's Workshop LP Trevor Jackson - Underdog 1993-1998 radio mix (NTS) CAVS - CAVS 12" (PHC) The Nevermen - Treat 'Em Right (Boards of Canada remix) DL (Lex) Vanishing Twin - Ookii Gekkou LP (Fire Records) Jay Glass Dubs - Jungle Shuffle 12" (The Wormhole) Brian Eno - The Lighthouse (Sonos HD) Regal Worm - The Hideous Goblink LP (Quatermass) Ternion Sound - Dovetail (Kursa remix) 12” (Next Level)

Podcasts: Martyn Ware - Electronically Yours Ed Piskor / Jim Rugg - Cartoonist Kayfabe (YouTube) Stephen Coates - The Bureau of Lost Culture We Buy Records (Apple podcasts) Matt Black - Pirate TV (Twitch/FB/YouTube)

Gigs / Events: Vanishing Twin - Pensiero Magico live stream Jan 20th Alice In Wonderland @ The V&A Museum, London Savage Pencil @ OrbitalSpace, London The Light Surgeons 'Atemporal' @ Iklectik, London The The's Comeback Special premier @ Troxy Cinema, London Jonny Trunk's Groovy Record Fayre @ Mildmay Club, London People Like Us - Gone, Gone Beyond @The Pit Theatre, Barbican, London Anicka Yi - Aerobes @ Tate Modern, London

Design / Packaging: Hattie Cooke - The Sleepers LP (Spun Out of Control) King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - live bootlegs series LP (Fuzz Club) Une - Spomenik LP (Spun Out Of Control) Cos - Mix LP (Finders Keepers) The Third Man Records shop in Soho, London Pepe Deluxe - The Phantom Cabinet vol.1 LP (Catskills) The Zen Delay (Ninja Tune / Erica Synths) Kingston University Stylophone Orchestra - Stylophonika (Spun Out Of Control) Brian Eno's turntable

Books / Magazines / Comics: Rain Like Hammers - Brandon Graham (Image) Bedroom Beats & B-Sides - Laurent Fintoni (Velocity Press) Decorum - Jonathan Hickman & Mike Huddleston (Image) Ultramega - James Harren (Skybound/Image) Anatomie Narrative - Samplerman The Black Locomotive - Rian Hughes (Picador) Kane & Able - Shaky Kane & Krent Able (Image) Tales To Enlighten - Matt King & James Edward Clark (Kickstarter) The Out - Dan Abnett & Mark Harrison (2000AD) 99 Balls Pond Road - Julie Drower (Scrudge Books)

Film /TV: Bathtubs Over Broadway (Netflix) Wandavision (Disney+) Sisters With Transistors - Lisa Rovener (BFI) What We Do In The Shadows Season 3 (BBC2) Martha: A Picture Story (Projector Films) Records - Alan Zweig (TVO) Big Mouth (Adult Swim)

[racefortheironthrone]

Did people in the middle ages swear like they do in a lot of fantasy fiction? With all those f- and c-bombs? "I read somewhere that swearing had a lot more to do with religion than sex.

That’s a great question, you [BLEEEEP]!

So one thing that’s important to keep in mind is that in many cultures, there historically was a linguistic/cultural/conceptual link between swearing as in expletives and swearing as in making a binding pledge (the word “oath” has both meanings, for example), and between cursing in the sense of expletives and cursing in the sense of a magical spell. 

The basic idea was that words had power to affect the real world - Celtic cultures believed that a bard’s satire could cause physical harm, and since monarchs had to be physically perfect, potentially cause political harm - often by calling upon the supernatural. Hence why there were taboos about doing so out of anger, especially anger directed at someone else in the community.

So as scholars like Melissa Mohr have written about, medieval profanity was quite different than in modern English, because cultural attitudes were different. Things having to do with “rude” bodily functions or body parts weren’t considered hugely profane, so as people have pointed out, you see a lot of medieval street names in England that have the “c-bomb” in their name, because that’s where the red light district was, or that refer to bodily fluids because people used to throw their waste there. 

By contrast, religious swear words - especially ones that referred to the crucifiction like “by God’s blood” (shortened to “zblud”), or “by God’s wounds” (”zwounds”), or by God’s hooks” (i.e, nails, “gadzooks”), or that called down damnation on someone, but also that mentioned important things in the liturgy - were treated really seriously, because they involved things of eschatological importance or because God might listen and smite someone. Interestingly, this custom persists in Quebec, where various elements of Catholic services can be strung together in a chain. I had a friend in high school who was Quebecois and swore like this, and I thought the “intricate form” of swearing was really cool. 

The reason why you see “modern” swearing idioms in fantasy fiction as well as period pieces is that religious swearing just doesn’t scan to modern sensibilities. This came up when David Milch was writing Deadwood. Milch can claim that he was being super-authentic, but what he was probably doing was trying to avoid audience confusion of why one miner might stab another after one of them said “goddamn you” too many times. 

[ink4spots]

CON! TROL! YOUR! SELF! /ref (warnibg gross + the substance spoilers)

[dandelionflower]

Felinette Month Day 9

Villains

“I am going to kill Hawkmoth!” Marinette groaned into a pillow.

“I’m afraid you can’t, but may I ask why you plan to?” Felix chuckled, rubbing her head.

“Did you see that akuma’s design? It was atrocious! Definitely worth murdering a villain.”

“I don’t know, it seemed at least punch-worthy, but murder, Nette?”

“Magenta boots and neon green.” She looked up. “Magenta boots and neon green!”

“She was called Fashion Disaster.” He pointed out.

“Nothing is a good excuse for magenta boots paired with neon green!” She pointed a finger in his face. “I swear, when Hawkmoth gets exposed, he better be a child or I will kill him.”

“And Mayura?”

Marinette froze for a moment before falling down. “She’s even worse! She made her own costume awful! She gave herself blue skin! Like she’s Megamind!”

“Well, what would you do?” Felix asked, knowing full well where this was leading.

“I’M GLAD YOU ASKED!” She shouted, pulling out a sketchbook.

“Okay, so I’ve been thinking of couples coustumes for Halloween, and I thought we could go as Mayura and Hawkmoth, ‘cause there’s at least one couple bound to dress like Ladybug and Chat Noir, probably gonna wear cheap store bought costumes too.”

“What are your plans, Nette?”

“I’m going as Hawkmoth, because I have fashion sense, and you can be Mayura, ‘cause you have enough creativity to make a sentimonster.”

“Okay, what do we need?”

A devilish smile crawled on her face. “I’m glad you asked.”

—————

The Halloween party was a mix of red and black.

Almost every couple in the vicinity was wearing a Ladybug or Chat Noir costume.

Almost.

The doors swung open, and two fashionably late figures appeared, shrouded in smoke, that no one remembered being there.

A figure in a blue cape with pink spots flew from the doorway and perched easily on a pedestal that no one noticed.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir!” He bellowed. “You are trapped! Give us your miraculous!”

There was lots of murmuring among the group, but one question rang out.

Us?

A figure in purple walked out, heels clicking against the tile.

“Well done, Felix Fowl,” she did a double take, “but why are there so many?”

“That would be my amok, Marimoth.” He pulled out a calculator with little pipe cleaner limbs. “Multiplus, it must have hit Ladybug and Chat Noir in a battle.”

“Gadzooks! Then how will we get the miraculous?” She pressed her hand to her head.

“Is it possible, that the miraculous multiplied with them?”

Her eyes widened. “Of course! Ingenious, Felix Fowl! Let us get the miraculous.”

‘Felix Fowl’ stood, allowing the room to see all of his costume.

He was wearing navy boots up to his knees, and lighter blue pants, with navy stripes on the sides. His shirt was the same light blue with slightly lighter splotches that were barely noticeable. He wore navy gloves slightly above his wrists, that ended in dark peacock feather-like loops.

His mask was the light blue with a navy line on the top and magenta dots tracing the bottom. He wore a wide rimmed hat with a magestic blood red feather sticking out.

His cape was a navy with lighter blue tips at the ends and magenta spots at the ends of a tip.

He had a epee that was teal with dark splotches, and stood out from the rest of the dark blue.

‘Marimoth’ was wearing a long-sleeved violet dress that cut off in an inverted ‘V,’ showing her black leggings. She had boots that went up to the middle of her calf of the same shade of violet, with a light lilac butterfly with silver accents on the front of both.

She had a grey vest with another lilac butterfly where the breast pocket would be over the dress. Her gloves went up to her elbows and also were silver, spiraling up her arms.

She had a lilac butterfly mask and violet ribbons tying up her pigtails.

The class was stunned, unmoving except for one pair.

Chloe and Sabrina stood side by side, grinning in defiance of the villains.

“Beware, Marimoth and Felix Fowl! For we will be the ones taking your miraculous!”

Suddenly, the class erupted and charged at the cold-colored pair.

Felix Fowl easily fended off all attacks, protecting Marimoth the same way Mayura protected Hawkmoth.

Marimoth was cool as a cucumber, directing her ‘akuma’ with ease.

The class soon realized they were outmatched and surrendered.

As they tore of their masks and cooled down with drinks, Alya approached the villainous pair with her phone ready for an interview.

“So, Felix Fowl, Marimoth, do you think you guys are as good of villains as Hawkmoth and Mayura?”

“We are all they are, and better.” Felix said coolly.

“Why do you say that?”

The pair met eyes and turned to the tiny phone camera, speaking in unison.

“We have better costumes.”

[ninjagoat]

Orange

Winn was sure she hadn't meant to stand him up. It wasn't like her.

But yet, he'd spent half an hour, alone, sitting in a restaurant he couldn't hope to afford; and it had gotten to him.

So he'd sent her a text. Read 8:32pm. No reply. He waited some more. Still no reply.

Then he read the text back to himself. And then hurriedly sent a clarification.

Still nothing.

So he'd gone home, panicking the whole time. Oh God. What if she never spoke to him again?

He'd tried to pass the time with one of the many projects he needed to do, but it was no use. He wasn't even hungry. He was just... wound, tight as a guitar string.

No, don't build James a jet-pack, Winslow. That's just asking for trouble.

There was a knock at the door.

Please be her, please be her...

He opened the door. It was her. It was Lena.

In a magnificent overcoat, one that probably cost more than his rent.

She'd probably come straight from the office.

Winn found he had nothing to say.

"Winn," she said, a slight tone of anger in her voice.

"Lena," was all he could respond with. Great job, genius.

"Have you eaten?" she asked, in the same clipped tone.

"No, I-" Barely was the first syllable out of his mouth, when Lena looked out into the hallway, and stepped to the apartment, away from the door; follwoed by a team of uniformed waitstaff who filed into Winn's apartment with a portable table and two chairs, moving Winn's things out of the middle of the living room to make way, then setting them up with a silver service.

Winn looked at the flurry of activity, then back to Lena, whose eyes were boring into him.

A thought occurred to him.

"If you even *think* of humming the Imperial March right now, you will have seriously misjudged the mood of your audience."

Ok then, maybe not.

The wait staff filed out, dinner for two by candlelight, under silver platters, set up right in the middle of Winn's living room.

"Thank you. Be ready with dessert," she addressed one of the staff.

"Of course, Ma'am," he replied, and closed the door behind him.

Silence hung in the air.

"So...hi?" Winn began.

"I know when I am late, Winn."

"Ok, I get that," he said, not sure where she was going with this.

"I do not need multiple messages telling me."

"Right, that was just because I thought you'd taken the first one the wrong way," Winn replied, anxious.

"I hadn't."

"I did not know that," he said, cautiously, "I am sorry if it made you feel like you needed to hurry."

"It didn't. If anything, it made me take my time."

Winn had long since accepted Lena was a complicated woman; but surely there were limits.

"That being said, I accept your apology; and for my part, I am sorry I made you wait in the restaurant for so long, and it won't happen again. Were they rude to you?"

"A little bit," he confessed, "But they're supposed to be, I think. Don't get anyone fired or anything."

"Very well, I won't," she said, with a finality that suggested the matter was closed. "Are you planning on taking my coat?"

"Oh, please-" Winn turned to the closet, to grab a coathanger so he could hang up the beautiful garment, then turn back to see-

GadZOOKS.

"That's... that's a very lovely dress you're wearing," he said, through the greatest case of drymouth he'd ever experienced, as she handed him her coat.

"Yes, I thought you might think that. I chose it especially. Are you hungry?"

Suddenly, he was starved. But he couldn't seem to answer. Hell, he couldn't even figure out how to hang her coat.

Who would ever have thought blood orange would be her colour?

Yes, Winn, because it's the *colour* that's making you like this.

"Uh," he managed, struggling with the coat problem in front of him, "What are we having?"

Lena lifted up a cover from one of the serving plates dramatically.

"Macaroni and Cheese."

"Gourmet?" he asked, finally getting it on the hanger.

"Kraft."

He hung the coat up in the closet.

"You did that especially?"

"You don't like it?" she said, picking up on his hesitance, "You have boxes of it in your cupboard."

"I do. And I appreciate the gesture, it's just- may I?"

She stepped aside, and Winn pulled out her chair like a proper gentleman.

"Do you think me having it in my kitchen means I have an unsophisticated palate, or something? I mean, I do eat grown-up food, on occasion."

"So, you *don't* like it?" she asked, confused, as he lifted the other plate cover, and then tried to figure out where to put them both. He paused, preparing his next sentence very carefully.

"It's more a comfort food, you know? You move from foster home to foster home, not a lot of stability in your life. But at least the blue box is consistent wherever you end up, right?"

He finally sat in front of his plate.

"This is amazing, by the way. All of this. Thank you."

He picked up his wine glass, and raised it. Lena responded in kind.

He sipped, and saw her look at her own plate nervously.

"You're not familiar with this as a food, are you?"

She sipped her wine. "Is it supposed to be this orange?"

"It is. They dye it that colour on purpose. Don't worry, it won't kill you."

"I'll admit, I was hoping for a slightly more optimistic worst case scenario than death," she replied.

"Well, I've eaten it before, and I'm okay," he told her, "I'm not dying, at any rate. Come on, count of three."

He picked up his fork, as he watched her investigate a macaroni elbow suspiciously with her own.

"One." She nodded along with his count.

"Two." He picked up a forkful, as did she; she sniffed it, more curious than reviled.

"Three." And, after a moment's pause, she put the forkful in her mouth, and chewed.

Winn did the same, and watched her. She looked a little grossed out, but also confused. She was trying to figure something out.

She quickly scooped up another forkful, putting it into her mouth before swallowing the first one, and chewed.

Still trying to work the problem. This was fascinating. Winn could have watched this all day.

She swallowed, finally; still pondering the dubious concoction.

"How is it?" he asked. She gestured at it with her fork.

"Turns out I *have* had this before," she said, quietly.

"Really? When?"

She avoided his gaze, and took a deep breath. "My mother used to make this for me."

Winn laughed. "Wow. You know, I would never have guessed that..." his voice trailing off as he realised her true meaning, "You're not talking about Lillian, are you?"

She shook her head, still unwilling to look at him. He quickly got out of his chair, and kneeled next to her chair; taking her cheek in his hand.

"Heyheyhey-"

"Please," she began, "I can't look at you right now."

"Why-"

"Because if I look at you, I'm going to see those big sympathy eyes of yours because you're making way too much out of this, and if I see them I'm going to start making too much out of this and then I'm going to cry."

He pulled himself into her, resting his forehead against hers. She still wouldn't look at him.

"Lena. Look at me."

She took another deep, and finally brought her eyes up to meet Winn's; and she took in his hopeful gaze and joyful smile. She held it for a moment, then spluttered out a laughing sob.

"Goddammit," she said, sniffing through her tears.

"No, no," he said, wrapping his hands behind her neck, fingers into her hair, carefully fitting her ears between thumb and forefinger, and kissed her wet cheek. "This is a good thing. An *important* thing."

"It's just a snack food, Winn-"

"-That *she* used to make for you," he reinforced, "That's allowed to mean something. You're allowed to let if affect you."

"Not like this."

"*Exactly* like this," he finished, and leaned in; placing his lips on hers, waiting that brief moment for her to respond, squeezing his bottom lip between her own just once before completing with a brief peck, and pulling away, just a little.

"Winn?" she breathed, interrupting his second approach.

"Yeah," he said, giant smile on his face.

"This is lovely... but I actually haven't eaten in nearly ten hours, and the food itself isn't too bad; so, if we could put this on pause for a little-"

"Oh, totally-" he said, planting a kiss on her forehead before getting to his feet and heading back to his seat, to find Lena shovelling the next forkful of yellow-orange goo into her mouth accompanied by a breath of relief through her nose; the kind from when at least a part of you genuinely thought you might never taste food ever again.

"Hey, slow down, you should save room for dessert."

"That's not really a problem right now," she said, garbled by food, hand covering her mouth, "There will definitely be room."

"What are we having anyway?"

She swallowed quickly. "Selection of Hostess Snack Cakes."

"Score!" Winn said, happily.

"Damn right."

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hi, could you consider? Jason Voorhees x reader thing where the reader was Jasons friend before he died and now they visit the camp every year to pay their respects on the aniversity of his death and they sorta rekindle their friendship after a while?

I tried to go with big events or staples in Jason’s life ^^ But my knowledge of Friday the 13th movies is… a bit limited… my bad.  I hope you like it anyway!! I hope its what you wanted ^^

1958 (Reader and Jason are like, 12 here): 

When I… saw him, I was scared. At first. Not of him exactly, I don’t think at least, but of the entire situation. He was supposed to be dead, and things that are alive after that are never showed in a sweet light. Vampires, zombies, ghosts.

But then he held my hand like he always would and gently lead me to his old cabin, where apparently, he was still living. I felt happy, I gave him the picture I drew him, and he smiled at me. I thought he could come home with me now, and everything would be okay! But… something was different about it all. His hands were always cold, but now they felt freezing. He spoke even less then he used to, as well. And the cabin was dirty, and he couldn’t possibly live here comfortably.

And then, I asked him to come back with me and mum. “Its okay! Jason, now we can go back home, and you won’t have to live here! We can still be friends! I’ve missed you.”

He gives me a tiny smile back, but awkwardly pulls his icy hand away from me. Shaking his head, he steps back and sits on his mother old bed. Which is mouldy and where the sheets to be white, are brown now. So, I don’t sit with him. “I… can’t go… “

My heart sinks, because of something worse than disappointment. “But… you can’t live here!” There’s no food, or clean water, or proper shelter! And… no parents. The idea is insane!

I watch while his fingers clench into the mattress his mother used to sleep on, and feel a dull, slow realisation dawn on me. Like when you’re three days from having to go back to school after a wonderful holiday. “M-my… my mum… “ I look up him with wide, furrowed eyes while thinking about all his changes. He died, even though its hard to believe, looking at him. The cold isn’t bothering him, in some places moss from the water still clung to him in some places, he was comfortable in this place that I couldn’t ever stay in no matter how much someone paid me. He’s changed so much… to the point where, weirdly, he fits here. And I can’t think of a thing that I could say or do to change his mind.

For the first time in my life I feel completely, wholly helpless. There’s nothing I could ever do, to… save him. His eyes are duller than they were when… we were friends… and he’s not him anymore. Even though it look, and feels like him. My friend Jason is gone.

He’s gone somewhere I can’t follow him.

1983: 

Awkwardly, I purse my lips, looking around at the forest while Jason carves into some wood, bored himself. I think that’s the piece of wood he was working on last year. “Okay… well, bye Jason.” I have been waiting for this all day! I want nothing but to leave Jason and get back to my family, the people I chose. It no longer feels like a choice to see Jason, even if it only once a year.

Its not like he makes me, its more that I force myself to come because I have my whole life since he died and if I couldn’t handle the guilt if I left him alone on his anniversary day one year. It used to be nice, when once a year my mum would drive me up and here and I would get to see my friend, even if it was different and weird. But soon enough, somewhere between high school and getting married, it became a burden. Because, really, what do we have in common?? Nothing. Why are we dragging this on, when all we have in common is history? History means very little when theirs no good memories to give it substance.

Oh… shit. Even thinking that sentence in my head felt bad. Of course, there were good memories… but its been so long since we’ve made a new one that I’ve forgotten what it felt like. What little I do remember, from when we little, feels made up. That’s how little it surfaces now.

As I pat his shoulder and get up from the porch where we were sitting for 4 hours -Four long, painful hours, - I accidentally wobble a bit and get a glimpse of the back of his head on accident. For a moment I keep going, getting to my feet and turning to walk off to my car, before I realise that what I just saw was not normal. People do not have dents like that in the back their head. Well, I mean, some people with the same condition Jason has sometimes do, but he was not born with this particular depression. I whip back around, surprising him and look shocked at him. “What the hell is that!?” He grunts, and shifts uncomfortably at that because he doesn’t talk anymore, and I soften my look a tiny bit in apology, knowing he doesn’t like swearing. “Right, sorry.” I roll my eyes. “But what is that crater in the back of your head Jason?!”

He sighs, deeply and shrugs.

“No, don’t you give me that. What is it? You bang your head on a branch or something??”

Not sure how a branch would make that kind of dent, but, it works to get the ball rolling. Maybe he’ll think the idea is so ridiculous that he communicates to me what it was just to set me straight. He does think I’m kind of ridiculous.

Yea, because he’s a hobo recluse who lives in the forest all alone, so he’s wiser apparently.

I watch him roll his eyes, before thumping on away from the cabin, leaving me alone abruptly, before coming back with an axe which is… not comforting. I glance from it to him and back again a few times, and he just rolls his eyes and shakes his head again.

Then he holds it up to thoroughly show me, causing me to notice the blood on it, then touches it to the dent. Finally, he grabs my hand -his is still cold as fuck, -, and holds it to his chest. Where there’s no heartbeat.

“What?” At first, I don’t get it at all, scrunching up nose in obvious confusion.

Then… slowly… it dawns on me. I gasp. “Who hit you in the head with an axe??!” He was already pretty dead, but this is new. Can’t say I feel surprised at all that he can live without a heartbeat, seeing as he survived drowning when he was 11, but this is new, at least.

Now he’s really gone somewhere I can’t follow. And can’t relate to.

2003:

I don’t know how long I’ve been out for, but it can’t be long when I open my eyes -the word a little blurred at first. The only things I can make out being a giant dark looking thing that could be a rock looking very still and another, brighter coloured one jumping on it.

Eventually those figures turn into Jason and that fucker that slashed me, - because they’re both still there near me. As far as I can see from the fight, as I get up from the earth and leaves and little twigs and dirt drop off my clothes and the wounds across my abdomen hurt like hell, is that Freddy’s doing most of the fighting, but Jason isn’t taking much damage. Good… okay… what can I do… I think, as I look around for a weapon.

Gadzooks! It’s my lucky day. Behind them, near me, I catch sight of Jason’s machete. He must have dropped it… Works for me.

On my way over to them, watching to see if either of them notice me back up on my feet, I pick up the weapon. Luckily, I’m pretty sure they both think I’m dead. So, it’s that much sweeter when I reach them and tighten my grip on the very long, sharp sword thing. Then I grit my teeth and ram the disagreeable thing into someone even more disagreeable.

Jason watches with a sense of surprise that I’m only just able to pick up on, because I know him so well, and a tiny flutter of a smile crosses my, probably terrible looking at the moment, face. “You couldn’t get rid of me when you died, and you certainly won’t just because I do.” I say, out of breath. These two may be immortal with the freaken stamina of 30-year old’s but I, am an old woman now. And kicking ass takes a bit out of me. Being too smart to drop the machete, instead roughly pulling it out of the sweater-wearers spine and walk with a slight limp, away from the scene. God, fucking… I really, almost died just then. And it feels like it. Where’s my phone? I need a goddamn ambulance.

Freddy, still alive I’m sure - a stab in the back is not going to keep him down, but I figure it’ll handicap him enough for Jason to take a good lead, - slips to his knees and I listen to the sweet melody of him groaning in pain as I hobble over to a considerably clearer area of earth, to sit down on and assess my injuries. “Bitch… “

Serves him right, the bastard. There are three deep scratches in my stomach, thoroughly ruining my one good white shirt, and making me a little woozy due to the blood loss. I look up from them to Jason, who’s staring at me in worry instead of finishing the fight. To reassure him, I flash a bigger smile and nod, gesturing for him to go on. “I’m fine, Jason. It’s okay. I’ll be waiting right here when you’re done.”

“Yeah- Hockey Puck -Fight hard for your girlfriend, heh heh,”

I look back down at my wounds and start thinking about what I need to do about them, ignoring the goblin completely. I hear a terrible, raspy gasp and then some screaming, and I know Jason’s thrown Freddy somewhere again.

An hour later, I’ve watched the teenagers leave, the group now cut cleanly in half and wait patiently, anxiously for Jason to come back too. The longer I wait, the worse I feel. dread fills up every part of my body that isn’t already full with pain from my wounds and a plain, dull, aching fear and I’m suddenly struck in the face with the thought that maybe Jason won’t come back. Maybe he’ll really lose this time.

He’s never fought someone like him before. This whole time I thought he was some invincible, super monster but, what if by monster standards he’s not??

I’ve never really felt the worry I’m feeling now. Not since he drowned, the first time. All these years after I’ve just coasted along with him, visiting once a year and forgetting about him the rest. It was like a chore, like something I had to do.

But now I’m afraid to death that he’s actually gone, and I’m stuck, stewing in the fact that I care about him. He’s an old friend, I love him. He can’t… he can’t die first. I’m the weak human!

I can’t believe I’m only realising this now. What an absolute idiot.

Just as I’m pushing myself up to my feet, to go searching in the direction he went in, I hear familiar, heavy footsteps and nearly damn well cry suddenly with immense relief. I sit back down, heavily and hide my face in my knees once I’ve seen him, trudging towards me. He looks so bad, but… animated. And that’s the main thing.

Ohhhh my god…

I feel the behemoth of a zombie, familiar to me in every sense of the word, like childhood, teenage, young adult, middle aged, and every other kind of memory put into one sit down on the grass with me. I peak up at him and can’t help the smile on my lips, tugging at the corners of my lips as the sun starts to come up over Camp Crystal Lake.

Sighing in relief, I explain my reaction to his return. “You’re okay?”

He nods, and raises 5 thick fingers to my stomach in question. I take his hand in mine, instead of leaving it to hang, and it feels good. “That’s fine. I’ll be okay. Thank you for asking, Jason.”

He curls his hand around mine in turn, as I lie down on the lush green grass, and try to rest. Finally, things feel alright again.

My eyes fall gently closed. Now I’ll go somewhere he can’t follow me. He’s never been good at death.

[nonbinary-octopus]

Virgil the Wee Vampire Part 2

Stargazing and What Came of it

Summary: While out stargazing, Roman, Patton, and Logan discover a tiny vampire.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Blood, (mild) injury, biting, fear, kidnapping

2257 words

Chapter 1: The Hungry Little Vampire

Masterpost

More stories

~~~

It was a perfect night for stargazing. The air was warm but not muggy, and the skies were clear. Logan carried a large blanket for them to lie on, as well as a book of constellations that they might or might not open. Patton carried the big, comfortably heavy flashlight that they technically didn't need since all their phones had flashlight widgets, but which was a comfort to have anyway. Roman had a large jar in which he planned to catch fireflies. (Logan had told him that it was the wrong season for fireflies, and too late in the evening besides. Roman said he didn't care and was going to try anyway.)

They spread the blanket out in their favorite stargazing place, an open grassy space far enough from any buildings that light pollution was at a minimum, and near some trees that, during the day, Patton would gladly climb.

The three of them sprawled out on the blanket together, with Logan in the middle and Roman and Patton on either side. Roman hadn't seen any fireflies, and he set the jar aside. The flashlight lay next to it.

"Look, there's the big dipper," Patton said, pointing.

"And there's Andromeda," Logan replied.

Roman gazed up at the night sky. "Orion," he said after a bit.

For several minutes, the three of them pointed out constellations. After some time, Patton nuzzled up against Logan, requesting to be told the stories behind some of the constellations. His two housemates told story after story, Logan pulling from myth, and Roman making them up on the spot. Roman made up several new constellations, too.

Soon Patton was half asleep, letting their words flow over him without fully paying attention. It was warm, and he felt quite safe with his two best friends beside him. But his leg felt a little weird, and the strangeness woke him back up. He shifted.

Logan broke off in the middle of a sentence. "You okay, Pat?" he asked.

"M' leg's asleep," Patton answered, moving to scratch the spot. It was on his calf, just above the top of his sock, and Patton, sleepy as he was, wondered why only one spot felt numb, rather than the whole leg. He pulled up his pants leg to scratch it, but froze. In the low light, he could see a dark shape clinging to his leg. Patton screamed, shaking his leg with fright. The thing flew off, landing a few feet away.

Instantly, the other two were sitting up. Roman had the flashlight in his hand like a club. "What ails you?" he exclaimed, while at the same time Logan asked,

"What happened?"

"Something was on me," Patton whimpered. He clutched the place where it had been, only to pull his hand away, wet, and cried, "It bit me!"

"Roman, turn that on," Logan said in his no-nonsense voice. "Patton, let me see."

They both obeyed immediately. Roman shone the flashlight on Patton's exposed leg, and Logan bent over it. He frowned.

"We should go back," he said.

"Is it bad?" Patton asked, his voice quivering.

"It's a small wound, but it's bleeding freely," Logan answered calmly. "I think you'll be fine, but we ought to clean and bandage it. Do you know what bit you?"

Patton shook his head, pointing in the direction it had gone.

Roman swept the flashlight beam in that direction. There, lying crumpled against the green grass, was something dark. Roman approached it, squinting curiously. The tiny creature was cowering under the flashlight beam, curled up tightly, but Roman could have sworn he saw a tiny face peeking up at him for a second. He brought the light closer, peering at it. "It's… it's a little man," he said in wonder.

"A what?" Logan sounded surprised, as well he ought.

"A tiny man," Roman repeated. "He looks stunned."

"Well, he injured Patton," Logan said, mind made up. "Capture him, we need to know what he is."

"Right," Roman said. But he hesitated. He didn't want to touch the little thing. What if it bit him too? "Lo, pass me the firefly jar," he said.

Logan rolled it to him, and Roman put it over the top of the little man. Breathing a bit more easily now, he added, "Can I borrow your star book?" Wordlessly, Logan gave it to him. Setting the flashlight aside on the grass, Roman slid the hard cover under the jar and the little man, same as he'd slide a paper under a cup and a bug, and carefully tipped the jar sideways. The tiny man, limp now, slid to the glass side. Roman took away the book and quickly screwed the lid on.

"Got him."

"Good," Logan said. Roman carried the captive, the flashlight, and the constellation book back to the other two. Logan had gotten out the basic first aid supplies he kept in his wallet, and now Patton's leg had a bandaid on it. Logan put the bandaid wrapper, the used alcohol wipe, and its wrapper all in his pocket.

"Can you carry our damoiseau in distress back to the house?" he asked Roman. "I don't want him to move much, in case it was venomous."

"Of course," Roman said. He unloaded his arms onto the grass and knelt beside Patton. "I've got you, Patton," he said tenderly. "Ready?"

Patton nodded, and Roman scooped him up bridal style, blanket and all. Logan gathered up everything else, and they headed back to the house together, Logan lighting the way with the flashlight. Patton rested his head against Roman's chest, feeling safe even though he was scared about the bite on his leg.

As they walked, Logan examined the tiny man in the jar as well as he could in the low light and while moving. He looked human, aside from his size. His clothes were either black or a very dark purple.

He was also completely unconscious. It wasn't from a lack of oxygen, of that Logan could be certain; Roman had punched several holes in the lid of the jar before they had set out. Logan didn't see any injuries, either, nor was the man lying as though he was in pain.

At the house, Roman sat Patton on the kitchen counter, and Logan set the jar on the couch so that it wouldn't roll away. "How are you feeling?" he asked gently.

"'M okay," Patton said softly, holding the blanket close. Roman kept one hand comfortingly on Patton's back. "Doesn't hurt."

Logan nodded, getting the first aid kit out from under the sink. He crouched in front of Patton to get a better look at his wound. "I'm going to take the bandaid off," he warned, and did it. Patton winced a little, but made no noise of protest. Now that they had proper lighting, Logan could see the injury much better, though it started bleeding again at once. Tearing open an alcohol wipe, Logan cleaned it off. "Two punctures," he murmured to himself, "very neat. No swelling, no color change." Speaking aloud again, he asked Patton, "And you said you feel well?"

"Mm-hm."

"No pain? Nausea? Blurriness of vision? Breathing okay?" To each question, Patton answered agreeably, and Logan relaxed. "I don't think it was venomous," he said. "It does bother me somewhat how easily it is bleeding, but I suspect that the creature had some sort of anticoagulant in its saliva, and it will wear off soon." Logan cleaned the wound again and rebandaged it. "Let me know if anything feels odd, Patton," he said, standing. "Even if you think it's unrelated, and even if you have to wake me up."

"Okay," Patton said.

Roman rubbed Patton's back. "Bedtime, Specs?" he asked. Patton nodded with a yawn, and Roman smiled. "Want me to give you a lift?"

"No…" Patton said softly. The other two helped him down from the counter. "But," Patton said, shyly, then stopped. Roman gave him an encouraging smile. "Will you tuck me in?"

"Of course, Pat," Roman said, taking Patton's hand and leading him off to bed.

Logan put the first aid kit back away and went back to the living room. He picked up the jar, sinking into the couch where it had sat, and peered thoughtfully at the small figure inside. His clothes were in fact a dark purple. They fit him well and looked very dapper, if at least a couple decades out of style. He was breathing, Logan noted with relief, tiny chest rising and falling. It seemed shallow, but he wasn't sure how much of that was due to the creature's small size.

Roman came back while Logan was still gazing into the jar, and he sat next to him. "Patton's asleep," he reported.

"Good."

"So, you figure out what that is yet?"

"No." Logan looked up, linking eyes with Roman. "Other than its size, it appears to be human. Based on Patton's bite, I would guess that it is hematophagous — It drinks blood," he added, as Roman gave him a blank look for the long word.

Roman gasped. "He's a vampire!" he exclaimed.

"A vampire," Logan repeated flatly.

Roman spread his hands and raised his eyebrows. "What other human-shaped thing drinks blood?" he asked.

Logan made a face. "As much as I hate to admit it, 'vampire' is no more implausible than a human this small existing in the first place," he conceded.

Suddenly, Roman rocketed out of his seat. Before Logan could say anything, the other man was already halfway down the hallway. Logan sighed, looking into the jar again contemplatively.

Roman was back a few moments later, holding a hand mirror. Logan gave him a quizzical look.

"Vampires don't have reflections," Roman explained, holding the mirror up beside the jar. They both looked.

The jar in the reflection was empty. Roman gasped, and Logan said "Gadzooks," under his breath.

"Vampire," Roman declared. "Definitely a vampire." He frowned. "This doesn't mean Patton is going to turn into a vampire, does it?"

"I don't know," Logan admitted. "There are many conflicting lores." He paused. "Perhaps you should draw the blinds in his room just in case."

Roman rushed off to do just that, taking his mirror with him to put away.

Logan eyed the tiny vampire. He wanted to talk to it once it woke, but he didn't know how long that would be. Perhaps it would wake sometime in the night, in which case he didn't particularly want to leave it by itself. Logan frowned at himself. He didn't want to leave him by himself, he corrected sternly. This creature certainly wasn't human, but that didn't make him less of a person.

Roman came back, sitting down next to Logan again. "They're closed, and I hung a blanket across the bar as well," he reported. "I didn't want to wake Patton up, so he doesn't know yet." There was a worried edge in his tone, and though he didn't say it, Logan knew his roommate to be worrying, what if Patton actually is a vampire but he doesn't realize and opens the blinds and turns to dust?

"I'm always up earlier than either of you," Logan said. "I'll check to make sure he still has a reflection when I get up."

Roman breathed a sigh of relief. "He still has one now," he said. Leaning over to look into the jar in Logan's hands, he asked, "What should we do about this little guy?"

Logan pursed his lips. "I want to question him," he answered. "But I don't know when he will wake up. Perhaps later tonight. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps not even until tomorrow night." He paused, thinking. "It would be best to secure the jar so that he cannot roll it away if he wakes while we are asleep. But we must put it somewhere dark, where the sunlight cannot reach."

"Bathroom hasn't got any windows," Roman suggested. Logan nodded. They had two bathrooms, and one was in the middle of the house, where it was unlikely that any sunlight could get in. "And," Roman continued, "we can put a salt line around the jar to make him stay put even if he does get out."

Logan wasn't sure that was right, but he didn't know enough about vampires to dispute it. "I'll have to do a lot of research," he realized aloud.

Roman was looking at the vampire again, and Logan followed his gaze. "Do you think he's hungry?" Roman asked. He was still annoyed at the vamp for biting Patton, especially if he'd turned him, but all the same, he didn't want him to starve. "How much blood do you think a vampire that small would need, anyway?"

"I would expect he'd need much less than one our size," Logan answered. "I don't know how much he drank from Patton, but most likely he will not starve before we can talk to him." Thoughtfully, he added, "The bags of blood they draw during blood drives are larger than he himself is. I doubt it would be harmful to us to supply him with enough sustenance for long enough to get our questions answered." He frowned. "Given that we draw it ourselves, rather than allow him to bite us, of course."

They found a small cardboard box, and Logan lay the jar lengthwise in it, placing it in the bathroom. Roman took a canister of salt and poured it in a rectangle all around the edges of the box, completely surrounding the jar and the tiny vampire.

Then, finally, they went to bed.

~~~~~

Chapter 3: Trapped in the Home of Humans

~~~~~

Taglist:

@yourfreindlyneighborhoodnerd @aroundofapplesauce @kaytikitty @kitkat-kiwikat @panic-at-the-everything27 @darkle-elkrad