#he's so fucking hard to draw brah

[the-forgotten-narrator]

getting used to drawing him

[nonoqy]

Your post did make me reevaluate some things.

Like you do have a point that george should have been more empathetic to the pain he caused in his first response.

I just hope this will spark more on a discussion on how men treat women, especially in CCs spaces.

But can't help but also feel bad for them after the past year where they suffer from a false allegation, especially dream, which people are still targeting even tho he's not the main focus (but still in part responsible)

You got a point, it's only just unfortunate that just before this they suffered for things that actually wasn't their fault and it's still affecting them to this day.

And I know they shouldn't be the main focus other than caiti

i think a lot of men are very ignorant even if they themselves think they aren't. some of those men who are replying to george's tweets right now and condemning him have probably done bad things as well without realising it, which is kinda fucked up, but i hope george serves as an example for them and all of them, especially george, will be more caring towards women around them, whether they've been friends for a long time or just met them. as a content creator george has many responsibilities, and he clearly haven't been "cautious", as he said, enough. i think when your best friend has been dealing with grooming allegations for like eight months (at that time) it is logical to be INCREDIBLY careful around women noticeably younger than you. and i'm obviously not blaming caiti, she is the victim in this situation and george is paying the price for that right now, what i'm trying to say is it's fucking stupid to flirt with someone without learning their age in this context, i would be so fucking paranoid to do that while witnessing dream's situation up close, no matter how drunk i am. so what he did was stupidly irresponsible, and i cannot begin to express how much i feel for caiti, i hope he releases a proper apology (and if possible contacts her privately because she deserves to hear this directly i feel like) and she heals from this.

now, the hate! i think both dream and george have been blinded by the hate they have been receiving, and this part of george's statement made me particularly angry. they've been so caught up in the hate they get from that cc group, it made them completely overlook caiti's feelings. and i would understand that to some degree but george took more than twenty four hours to release his statement. i think he (and dream) had had plenty of time to realise that this should not be the main point of what's happening. the main point should be the girl that george has unintentionally hurt who deserved an apology for that, and this is what he was supposed to end his statement on. i get where he was coming from, but instead of trying to search for a reason of "why she's doing this to me" he should've been Empathetic. she cried so fucking hard during that stream, and if that wasn't enough for him to start feeling bad, then he needs to go to fucking therapy and learn to be an emotionally responsible adult. you are twenty seven, she is nineteen. come the fuck on

[ajkal2]

I heard there's this #WIPitgood thing going around where we all post WIPs! This is a WIP I had from ages ago, based on a tumblr post. Cannot remember for the life of me who posted it, just that it had the idea of Jack being secretly in the Harry Potter fandom and writing this mammoth fic that's the my immortal of this universe. It's actually way longer than I thought it would be? Enjoy!

Tw: therapy, discussion of overdose, Bitty hasn't read Harry Potter.

****

“Do you ever think about, like, the Big Questions?” Shitty asked, staring at Jack’s ceiling with bloodshot eyes. 

 “What questions?” Jack asked idly. 

“The big ones, y’know? Where is God? Why-Why does the universe exist?" Shitty threw his arms out, reaching up. "Do pigeons have feelings? Who... the fuck… wrote Wizarding Sports: An Analytical Narrative?”

Jack paused. “Excuse me?” He turned.

“Who wrote… wait. Waaaaait." Shitty scrambled to prop himself up, squinting in Jack's direction. "You haven’t heard of Wizarding Sports: An Analytical Narrative?”

Jack opened his mouth, then paused. 

“Brah. Braaaah.” Shitty’s head tipped backwards, thudding against Jack’s comforter. “But you are like. Obsessed with the Potter! You are so out of touch. Everyone’s heard of Wsaan.” Jack had no idea how Shitty just pronounced that. 

“Everyone?” Jack’s eyebrows creeped toward his hairline.  

“Yeah. It’s like- This huuuuuge fic. Huuuuuuge, brah.” Shitty spread his arms, eyes wide, nodding slightly.“But, get this, it’s about the history of sport. How Quidditch was invented and shit. How weird is that? Who wrote that? And it’s like, uber detailed and researched and- Who would care enough about sports, and- and history, and Harry Potter to....”

Shitty trailed off, staring at Jack. His eyes narrowed. Jack cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat.

“No fucking way.” 

****

It started like this. 

Jack stared at the ceiling. His hands wanted to tremor, but he held them still. 

The walls weren’t padded. Maybe they should be. 

“How are you feeling today, Jack?” asked the therapist he had to talk to. 

“Fine,” said Jack, without a hint of inflection. “I’m feeling just fine.”

She sighed, softly. The sound carried. 

Jack felt a bubble of anger and horror and grief rising through him, and viciously squashed it back down. He breathed, in and out, and stared at the ceiling. 

He could still feel everything from that night, a week or a century or a second ago. It roiled in his gut, churning against his ribcage. He’d been stupid to take so many so fast. He regretted it, in a dull sort of way. But he’d needed them.

If he took enough, they might work again, stop him feeling like this, feeling like shit- 

“Jack, I can’t help you unless you work with me.”

Jack didn’t move. That wasn’t a question, so he didn’t need to answer it. He could just trace the outlines of the ceiling tiles with his eyes.

“What do you want from these sessions, Jack? What are your goals?”

That was easy. “I want you to let me play again.” 

His therapist’s lips pressed together. She wrote something, the sound of pencil on paper grating against Jack’s ears. What did he want? He wanted her to shut up. He wanted everything to stop. He wanted to get out of this stupid place. He wanted Kenny’s arm around his shoulders. He wanted more pills than they'd give him.

“Any other goals?”

Jack’s jaw flexed. He pushed everything down. His head was filled with steel wire, scraping against the insides of his temples.

“Jack, I’d like you to try something new. Read a book, or draw. Find something you enjoy. Could you do that for me?”

Jack flashed her an empty smile. “Sure.”

****

Jack heard Ransom and Holster bellowing along to Hedwig’s theme from down the street. He smiled, steps lengthening, and Bittle scrambled after him. 

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” Bittle huffed, kit bag bumping against his back. 

Jack tilted his head towards the Haus. “I want to know which one they’re watching.” He slowed, matching Bittle’s pace. Bittle was probably tired, not used to waking up early.

“Which one?” Bittle’s nose scrunched up, and the corners of Jack’s eyes creased. 

“Yeah.” Jack fished his keys from his bag. “Shits usually calls me if they’re doing a marathon.”

“A marathon of what, exactly?” Bittle asked, eyebrow raising. His face was flushed from exertion, hair tostled. Jack blinked at him for a second, then the door creaked open. 

“Hey,” Lardo said, smirk curling her upper lip. “Chamber of Secrets, get your ass in here.”

Jack grinned, dumped his kit by the door, and flopped onto the couch. 

****

Read a book. Draw something. The only things Jack could draw were diagrams of pitches, player movements. The lead of his pencil kept snapping.

Jack looked blankly at the meagre shelf of books available to residents, hands shoved in his pockets. His hood was up. 

It didn’t really matter which one he picked. He thumbed down a paperback, one with a colorful spine. Trudged back to his room, book under his arm. 

He tossed it on the bed, stared at it for a moment, then flopped facedown right next to it. He used one finger to hold up the first page.

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

****

“What.” Jack said flatly, staring at Bittle. He blushed under the scrutiny, swiping at his hair. He’d left a smear of flour on his forehead. 

“You can’t judge me! You thought Rihanna was in Destiny’s Child!” Bittle snapped, arms crossing. 

Shitty’s head lifted slowly off the table. A single page stuck to his cheek. “Bitty, did you just say that-”

“Yes! That’s way worse! It’s not a big deal I haven’t read Harry Potter! So what!”

Shitty hissed through his teeth. Jack stood, slowly. His eyes were fixed on Bittle. They narrowed, suddenly.

“Have you seen the films?” Jack asked urgently. 

“I- No!” Bittle admitted, his chin jutting out.

Slowly, a smile spread across Jack’s face. Finally. He turned on his heel, abandoning his laptop, and thundered up the stairs. Where had he put it, he knew he’d bought- aha!

Prize clutched in one hand, Jack loped back to the kitchen. Bittle was fiercely rolling out his pastry, but he turned at Shitty’s indrawn breath. 

Jack held up his battered, treasured copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. “Rule 1. No flour stains.” Bittle rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to protest. “Rule 2,” Jack continued, firmer. “No folding the pages. Rule 3,” and Jack smiled like a shark. “No watching the films. Not until you’ve finished the series. Agreed?”

“You boys.” Bittle huffed. He picked up his sheet of pastry, lining the pie tin with practiced motions. “Leave it by the side.”

****

Jack stepped out of the double doors. His skin prickled in the wind, the open air harsh against his skin. He turned his shoulder against the wind, and his father’s hand landed there. 

“Ready?” Papa asked, quietly. 

Jack breathed, in and out, and didn’t immediately respond. He took one step forward, away, and then another. He didn’t look at Papa. It was easier to talk if he didn’t look. “No.”

Papa walked beside him, leading the way. “If you need more time…”

“No,” Jack said, fumbling, harsh. “It’s like- The first game. After an injury. Not going to be ready.  Might as well.”

He could feel Papa’s gaze, feel the eyes on him. He wondered why there weren’t any cameras, why there wasn’t any reporters shouting for his attention. Baying for his blood. 

“OK, Jack,” said Papa. 

Jack’s fingers tightened around the strap of his bag. His therapist had given him the book, the first. There was a whole series, she’d said, for once he got out. 

****

Jack taped his stick in precise, calm motions, focusing on the feel of it, polished wood under his palms, the tug of the tape on his fingertips. He breathed, in and out. 

Ransom and Holster yelled something in unison, part of their pre-game handshake, and Jack’s eyes snapped to the sound. He should be used to this by now, the thrill of adrenaline, the sharp smell of sweat. Everything hit him harder, before a game. But it still shook him, a little. 

Breathe. In and out. Tuck in the last bit of tape. Put the roll away. In for seven, hold for five, out for seven. 

Jack’s eyes scanned the room, and settled on Bittle. He was sitting in his stall, fully kitted out, squinting down at- Oh. 

Jack was moving before he knew it, shoulder thumping into the stall. 

“Where are you?” he asked, and Bitty gave him an unsure smile. 

“In the locker room?” Bitty slipped a piece of paper- a receipt? -into the pages.

Jack frowned. “No, the book. What part have you got to?” Jack clarified, tilting his head in question. 

Bitty laughed nervously. “Well, they’re having a flying lesson. Neville’s fallen off, poor thing.”

Jack leaned against the side of Bittle’s stall. “Tell me what you think.”

****

Jack’s shoulder thudded against Bitty’s pads, and he yelped, crashing to the floor.

“Get back up, skate through it,” Jack urged, but Bitty just shook, leaning hard against the boards. 

Jack squatted, then reached out, hand resting on Bitty’s shoulder. 

“I can't do it,” Bitty gasped, hugging himself. “I-”

“You can.” Jack tightened his grip, ducking to look Bitty in the eye. “I know you can.”

“Not everyone’s a Gryffindor, Jack! I can't- I'm not-”

“Hey,” Jack tried to make his voice soft. “You're right.”

“What?” Bitty looked up, and Jack's heart twinged at the look on his face. 

“Not everyone’s a Gryffindor. Not everyone can beat their problems on the first try. But do you know what I thought, soon as I saw you bringing pie into that first meeting?”

“What an idiot?”

“No. I thought, there's a Hufflepuff.” Jack smiled at the memory. 

Bitty laughed, bitter. “The useless ones.”

Jack nudged Bitty's shoulder again. “The ones who work hard. The ones who don't give up, who welcome anyone, no matter what. The ones who can give a frat house yellow lacy curtains.”

Bitty snorted, eyes suspiciously shiny.

“You can do it, Bittle. Just gotta get back up.” Jack stood, offering Bitty his hand. 

Bitty took a deep breath. He took Jack's hand, pulling himself to his feet. 

“Thanks.”

Jack shrugged. “Ready to go again?”

Bitty rolled his shoulders, eyes narrowing. “Come at me.”

Jack’s eyes crinkled. “Oh, and by the way?” he said, smirk flitting to his lips. “I'm a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor”

Bitty gave him a Look. "I can believe that, Mr. Lets-Get-Up-At-4AM."

Jack smirked. "Let's go, Badger. On my mark."

[cowandcalf]

Writer’s Month 2020 - To Find A Way

Prompt No.2  - Quarantine

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Danny rubs the hand sanitizer between his palms. He pulls the face mask over his mouth and nose the moment he gets out of the car. They're in a Worldwide lockdown. It's unreal and insane what's going on. Two days ago, everything has been fine and now everything has flipped upside down. He can't wrap his mind around the chaos that has taken over. Grace is safe and at home with Rachel. He still breaks out in a sweat knowing there's an invisible threat creeping into his guarded world and he can't do shit about it. He misses his baby girl. No visitations but he calls her daily via face time.

The lockdown with its rules weighs heavy on everyone. Chin, Kono and he are with HPD and allowed to be outside. The workload has reduced drastically and Danny deals with the challenge of having too much spare time at hand. And that's the main reason his thoughts circle around a big handsome guy with strong, large hands who hugs a plant like a scared kitten. This unique and invested care for a flower, a flower, Danny saw a few days ago makes him draw a shaky breath now and then.

Jesus. This guy won't leave his thoughts. The confidence and self-esteem in every move have caught Danny's attention from the first encounter. But he's also sensed the invisible cracks. The flicker of Steve's eyes when Danny wasn't in his field of vision. The slight slip of his features when Steve couldn't find a bag for the plant. And the almost scared look when Danny went out the door with a flower Steve seemed to care so much for.

Danny's legs eat the distance to Kamekona's shrimp truck and seconds later he pounds at the closed door.

"Take out's not before twelve o'clock. Don't queue up! Don't mess with the rules! No food without a face mask." Kamekona's thunder voice hollers through the closed truck.

"It's me, big guy. Open the door. I'll have take out, three times, for Chin and Kono and myself. As I've agreed." Danny waits. "My mask is on, Kame! My hands are sanitized. Don't let me wait in this heat with my face half-covered. It's brutal out here. Come on."

The door opens an inch. "There's a box to your left, put the money in there. I only take cash, no cards."

They exchange food and money and the door closes again. "Wait, Kame, wait. Steve – I,"

The door stops mid-movement and gets pushed open with a jerk.

"Whoa, careful there. I almost dropped the food." Danny grabs the bags with both hands.

"What about Steve." Kamekona looks intimidating with his face half-covered behind a black mask. His big, shovel-like hands stuck in black rubber gloves and he wears a tent-size red apron with the print of his face – covered behind a black mask.

Danny chuckles and waves with the bag in his hand. "Don't you think you overdo it with the brand stuff?"

It's uncharacteristic for Kamekona not to get lost in a speech about business and keeping up with the top seller. He comes straight to the point. "Leave Steve alone. He's not a people's guy. He likes solitude.

Danny licks his lips. "You protect him. Why?"

Kamekona gets this stoic look when Danny touches a sensitive topic. The answer surprises him. "He's Kama'āina."

"And what else?" Danny can't feel the heat, can't feel how his shirt sticks to his damp back. "I'm – look, he has this thing about him –" he hopes Kamekona would chime in but he just stares at him. "He's ex-military, right? There was something odd in his behavior yesterday. He doesn't look like a guy who deals with flowers. It wasn't even a shop. It was more – "

"Yo, brah, Steve's not like all others. You needed a flower, he needed someone to drop by. I wanted to make sure he's okay. I haven't had the time to go check up on him last week."

"You check up on him? Why?" Danny's interest peaks. His heart thumps and his mouth turns dry. "Is he sick?"

"No more information." His friend has made up his mind. Danny recognizes the tone.

"Hand me another lunch bag." Danny digs into his pocket to get more money.

"For Steve?"

"Yep. He had a hard time when I took his plant. I could tell. I go and check up on him."

Kame eyes him gently. "Don't move too fast and don't talk too much.”

Danny's eyebrows climb up his forehead. "Something else, dude? A foot-rub maybe?"

"You don't know, Steve. He's –"

"Dangerous?" Danny teases.

"Just watch out and make sure he sees you all the time. It’s Lockdown, too. He’ll be twitchier than usual." The door to the truck closes with a soft click.

 Danny watches the front door of Steve's flower shop that looks more like an abandoned building with dusty windows surrounded by tamed jungle and big bushes. Countless pots with a variety of flowers mark the path that leads to the front door. He hasn't taken the time yesterday to take the scenery in. The wild beauty isn't chaotic at all if anything it's picturesque. Danny pays tribute to the attentiveness that has shaped this place.

Who's this guy? Danny performs the same procedure with hand sanitizer and face mask before he grabs the lunch bags on the passenger seat and gets out of the car. He knows Steve watches him. No one can drop by this place by accident. But so far, Danny hasn't been yelled at and shot at. So far, he counts this as being tolerated on the property.

He lifts his hand to knock on the door when a voice sharp as a blade barks a question behind his back. Shit. Danny hasn't seen or heard anything a second ago.

"What the hell are you doing here? Kamekona didn't call to tell me someone's coming."

"Hey, I brought –" Danny is about to turn around.

"Freeze!"

Like a gun shot the word impacts on Danny's eardrum. He lifts his arms to show he means no harm. He doesn't say a word and stands still. Holy fuck.

"Turn around, slowly and keep your hands up where I can see them."

Danny turns around. He faces a dangerous-looking man with dark hair who wears a white flimsy tank top covered in smudges of dirt. He stares at the gun in Steve's hand. Kamekona hasn't exaggerated. And Steve’s looks changed. Nothing resembles the behavior from yesterday.

"Pull your mask down." Steve moves like a tiger, with grace and power. He approaches slowly.

Danny breathes the earthy air with is eyes fixed on Steve's hard features. His jaw muscles pop prominently. "Hi, Steve. I brought lunch. Kame made your special dish, extra garlic, and lots of vegetables."

Steve's shoulders slump imperceptibly. Danny exhales with care. "Can I take my hands down?"

Steve comes closer. "Why did you come? I don't sell any flowers today, not ever again."

Danny's eyes drop to the broad shoulders and the golden, tanned skin. "Are you hungry?" Danny watches how Steve works his jaw and purses his lips. He lifts the bag with a fluent, slow motion. "Smells delicious and I'm sure you could need a refuel after you crawled through the jungle."

Steve scoffs, " I wasn't crawling through any jungle."

"But you're just as dirty as if – "

Steve walks toward the door without paying attention to Danny. Yeah, that's not true. This guy has eyes everywhere. Freaking Rambo. Steve flicks the gun safety on and pushes the weapon into the waistband of the back of his jeans. Danny's abs tense hard and he holds his breath. Yeah, well. His tongue flicks over his lips and his eyes drop to Steve's ass.

"I'm not eating outside." Steve shouts over his shoulder. He leaves the door ajar.

"You arrogant sonofabitch." Danny sputters flabbergasted.

TBC

Also on AO3 - To Find A Way

[wearevillaneve]

Killing Eve’s New Blood (or “Hi, My Name Is...”)

Typically, you can expect the new season of a TV show to say “Nice to meet ya” to new characters as it says “Smell ya later” to old familiars.  Still, the influx of so many newbies to the cast of Killing Eve looks like the survivors of the Titanic scrambling to climb in the last remaining lifeboat. 

Who ARE all these gals and guys? 

Roll call:  There’s Geraldine, Paul, Jaime, Bear, Dasha, Audrey, Mo, and Helene.  That’s eight, plus all the six new faces Villanelle met in Russia, though only maybe two of them survived her visit.  Did I forget anyone?  All of these newbies come with a smidgen of a backstory, but really we mostly have more questions about all these warm bodies than solid answers.

Is Paul just some touchy-feely asshole who is trying to exploit Carolyn’s distraction with Kenny’s untimely demise, to raise his own standing in MI6?   Is someone at The Bitter Pill may not be whom they are presenting themselves as (Audrey!) and they may be a sleeper agent for The Twelve (Audrey!) who was spying on Kenny’s investigation and was instructed to take him out (I see you, Audrey!)

She hasn’t been given much to do or say, but Geraldine is an enigma.  All we know of her is she’s Kenny’s big sister from the same mister, has never been mentioned before and is a major annoyance to Carolyn,  who has little tolerance and less affection for her flesh and blood. 

Carolyn has proven herself to be more than willing to callously throw anyone to the wolves if that’s what it takes to get the job done, but there’s something slightly off in her “relationship” with Geraldine.  One woman seems overly needy for the other’s attention (and perhaps forgiveness) while the other would be totally cool if she fucked off back to wherever Geraldine has holed up for the past two seasons.

Geraldine is....problematic.  She’s the best friend of The Final Girl in horror movies.  Not conventionally “pretty” and maybe not entirely straight, whom in the final 15 minutes turns out to be the sinister ghoul who masterminded the murder of all the other dead teenagers-on-a-stick to get to the conventionally pretty girl all to herself.   Those of y’all whom have seen High Tension know what I mean.. That’s Geraldine. 

Would Carolyn’s daughter go so far to have Mummy all to herself, that she would kill her own brother?  Can we say with certainty she wouldn’t when we don’t know the first thing about her? Who is Geraldine Stowton?  Where has she been?  What does she do for a living?  What does she really want from Carolyn?   One day as Carolyn comes home early,  Geraldine lies to her face about having no visitors

Why?   What is Geraldine’s deal anyhow?  Could it possibly include murder?  Sibling rivalry is a real thing. 

 While Konstantin, shadier than ever, remains the prime suspect in Kenny’s death, I’ve become much less confident in that belief.   While he is the consummate schemer,  in three seasons, we have yet to see Konstantin commit a murder himself.  Unless he held Kenny at gunpoint, he seems less than the ideal hitman to take him out.  He’s fine at sending Villanelle off to dead someone, but he steers clear from that sort of dirty business himself.

We know less than nothing of the majority of the new S3 characters. 1.  Audrey the Receptionist:  Does she have a thing for bathrooms/restrooms too?  I’d like to know what is going on under that uni-braid ,besides Audrey keeps showing up in places when Eve is there.  If she’s not crying she has to be spying and keeping tabs on Eve for The Twelve.

2.  Paul the officious little prig., who is both patronizing and solicitous to Carolyn.  Oh, and he wears a ring on the same hand and finger Anton did, the replacement handler Villanelle shot in the head within minutes of meeting his obnoxious butt.   I'm sure that's only a coincidence.  Paul is a sneaky so-and-so.  Carolyn, better keep an eye on this dude. 

3.  Jaime:   The hard-bitten, cynical, got-no-effs editor of The Bitter Pill, which may be some sort of version of Wikileaks or an online publication.  It’s hard to tell since you never see anybody actually publish a damn thing.   He also fancies Eve (quelle surprise) and now she’s holed up at his place.  Perhaps Jaime hopes he can chip through Eve’s walls of resistance by massive exposure in a controlled environment to his sparkling personality, devastating sex appeal, and bilious clouds of vape smoke. You are circling an airport you are never going to allowed to land on, brah.  Admire Eve’s hair up close, but it is never going to get personal.  Eve is off the knob. 

4.  Bear:  What we don’t know about this guy is a bottomless pit.  We don’t even know him by anything than his superhero name.  That’s fine.  Nobody is calling for a solo episode exploring How Bear Became Bear.

His only reason to draw breath is to provide Eve some tech support after Kenny’s swan dive to the street.   Might Bear be working for The Twelve?  Sure,  but then so could anyone at The Bitter Pill   Gaslighting Eve is the show’s longest-running gag on her and she keeps falling for it.  

Bear is a nerdy Incel who is afraid of women.  Particularly smelly ones who drop their underwear in his trash basket.   He should be happy as it is the closest he’s been to a woman’s underwear in a  long time.

5. Helene:  We know zip about this extremely intimidating representative of The Twelve except she is clearly so far above the heads of Dasha and Konstantin, they couldn’t breathe in the rarefied air lives in.    Helene looks like someone who hold meetings and totally run them, kick asses both metaphorically and physically while taking  no names and  giving no fucks.  She scares the shit out of Dasha and when she and Villanelle meet, it’s going to be fascinating to behold.   Following the events of “Are You From Pinner?” if Villanelle was manic before, the pendulum may have swung firmly in the opposite direction and she’s in a distracted and depressed funk.   Murdering your mama will do that, even if she was a callous, cold-hearted asshole.  

A Villanelle on her “a” game does not show up for an interview with a powerful member of the secret organization looking like she had bed head.   That blue suit is rocking, but alas, Villanelle still be shook from the events of the last two odd-numbered episodes.   It’s to be expected even the great ones have off-days.

It’s curious Helene declines Dasha’s eager offer to take Eve out.  Theoretically, it should be super easy, barely an inconvenience to knock off a heavy-drinking, bitter, and confused former MI5/6 agent who fucked up as badly as it possible to in Rome, and ended shot low in the back high in the shoulder by a horny Russian assassin. Dasha has shown she does NOT “still got it” and she doesn’t scare me. A strong breeze would blow away a lightweight like her.  Big talk.  Small game.  Dasha is past her prime and doesn’t post much of a threat. Helene does, and appears positioned to become a Big Bad who could stick around and  make things extremely scary for Villaneve. I like Helene and hope we get to see just how bad of a bad girl she really is.

6. Moe.   He’s a handsome devil, but Eve was right when she told him he might not be cut out for this line of work.  Carolyn’s supposed “bodyguard” crapped the bed in the when he froze as Villanelle almost blew away Carolyn while gunning down her true target.  Moe hasn’t been seen since.  We may see him again, but if we don’t it won’t be much of a shock.

7.  Dasha.   The supposed Big Bad Wolf who whacked her own boyfriend when he pissed her off and went on to train Villanelle to be her replacement master assassin of The Twelve.  Alas, she has the same problem as Konstantin and 70′s rock bands; she’s  stayed on the stage too damn long, doesn’t dress age appropriately and is starting to show her age and increasing inefficiency.  The Rolling Stones and Dasha aren’t dead yet, but both are hanging on by their fingertips and need to hang it up because they are really embarrassing themselves .   

8.  Geraldine (again).  When Eve is on the roof to toss the cake,  there are two chairs and one is overturned.  Almost as though Kenny was sitting down and having a conversation with someone before things turned violent and fatal. That doesn't sound like Konstantin to me.  He sends Villanelle to take out targets. but we’ve never seen him kill anyone and why would he chat with Kenny before forcing him off the roof?  Did Geraldine commit fratricide?  Maybe. Did Kenny get taken out by his own sister?  Possibly.  Would she do such a terrible thing to  eliminate their mum’s clear favorite so she can have Carolyn all to herself?  Conceivably. Villanelle told us herself,  “Never trust people on their looks. I can see scary people a mile away - it's the good people you have to worry about” and to presume Geraldine is a good person is a risky proposition.  This is Killing Eve we’re talking about here. There are no innocents.

[askbittyerror]

Wedding RP part 12

Askbittyerror09/28/2020 Magnus steps forward, shaking, then collapses, chin cracking against the ground, black sludge and purple marrow forming a puddle underneath him. Mercury glances to Paladin thrashing against the tentacles then rushes over, kneeling by his father and scooting a bit to avoid Magnus’ weak snapping. “Dad-” He holds his hands out to heal, yanking them back when more slime explodes from Magnus’ eyes at the magic’s touch.

with-bells-upon09/28/2020 "..." Braithe tightens his grip. "Give me an excuse~" the corrupted one hisses, a dripping, oily snarl. "I'll pull your bones apart one by one, shove them in your sockets before they can dust, and twist." Coryn kneels at Magnus side, frowning. "Magnus. You have a thin choice whether to fight this off or not. If you don't, you will be corrupted forever." -to Mercury, "get his mate. now."(edited)

JusticeMom09/28/2020 Dragon slides into the space cursing over and over as they scale down to move to the bitty "what happened!?" they cry stopping before they reach the protective wall of bitty(edited)

Askbittyerror09/28/2020 “Dad and Pal fought.” Mercury says before vanishing to grab Blue. Magnus growls and whines softly, eyelights gutted out and joints turning black. “Fuck you.” Paladin hisses, his magic flaring, wings glowing blindingly bright.

with-bells-upon09/28/2020 A deep, cold chuckle. "Ribs first then~" He falls silent as Coryn glares briefly, then rests his hands on Magnus, trying to heal... and also summon enough aura to possibly help, if it can. Blue Is surprised by the sudden return.

JusticeMom09/28/2020 They see which one to deal with first and they rush over to Pal and Braithe "stop! he is not himself!" they snap at the grumpy corrupted bitty(edited)

with-bells-upon09/28/2020 Very brief pause. "...and?"

Askbittyerror09/28/2020 “Fight bad, Dad’s corrupting.” Mercury says quickly, tugging on them, the entire family making incredibly worried noises. The healing seems to be helping, at least a little. The pool of marrow stops spreading and the slime sizzles, Magnus letting out a weak wail and trying to squirm away. Paladin is being an unhelpful growly boy and is biting at any tentacle within reach of his mouth.

with-bells-upon09/28/2020 Braithe starts to respond with the intention of shoving an entire tentacle down his throat, and seeing what he can rip out... but a glare from Coryn, and he grumbles, simply holding on. Blue manages to set everyone down, without dropping anyone, and shrink in an instant, grabbing their son's hand, even as they stumble. "Please, please, please get me there!" Tumbles out in a rush

Askbittyerror09/28/2020 Paladin continues to be deeply upset. Mercury grabs them and they’re back by Magnus’ side. The family follows.

with-bells-upon09/28/2020 Blue skids and stumbles to their mate's side, attempting to half pull him I to their lap, and adding their own healing magic to Coryn's. "Beloved? Beloved, listen to me... whatever happens, whatever kind of nightmare bitty you become, I'm still going to love you, okay?" ...Braithe stares at the multiple corrupted nightmares now in the room. he's just watching, but if they try anything, he's very willing to snap this glowing flyboy in half.

Askbittyerror09/28/2020 Domino carefully approaches Braithe, Licorice at his back. “Hand him over.” He softly requests. “Please.” Magnus whines, barely conscious. He coughs, spurting black sludge. “B…Blue?”

with-bells-upon09/28/2020 For just one instant, it seems like he'll refuse- Then, begrudgingly, he lets go, and vanishes back into the shadows, with the low growl that if they lose control of him again, they won't get him back again. Blue strokes his head, "Mmhm, I'm here... it's okay. I'm safe. You're safe... it's okay."

Askbittyerror09/28/2020 The bitties catch Paladin and Licorice coils tendrils around his neck, squeezing and gritting his teeth from Paladin’s frantic clawing and explosions of light until the Dream finally loses consciousness. The goopdads drag him off to the side, keeping him secure in their tendrils, ready to knock him right back out again should he wake up in the same mood. Magnus whimpers and moans, leaning into Blue’s touch. “What’s…. happ- happening?”

with-bells-upon09/28/2020 "...easy," Blue whispers, "there was a fight, you got hurt- but you're safe. you just need to heal. focus on me, please... beloved." healing magic all but encapsulates them both, and Coryn yields to it, letting them take things from here. He gets to his feet, staring at the place his brother had been, breathing hard from the magic use- - then starts out after him.

Askbittyerror09/28/2020 Magnus whimpers. Huitzi appears, picks both of them up, and frantically blasts through the two such a powerful burst of positivity that Magnus screams, vomits sludge and loses consciousness, every last bit of corruption exorcised from him all at once. September 29, 2020

with-bells-uponYesterday at 11:57 AM The massive positivity hits them, and a sense like relief, as still they struggle not to let go of their mate- followed by unconsciousness, because so so much aura, if largely happy unconsciousness. Coryn can be heard calling for his brother with increasing franticness, not far in the distance.

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 1:09 PM The Nightmare bitties are on the ground, wailing, those with goop sizzling. "Brah!" Fresh flies over, battering Huitzi's face with his wings. "Aura off! You're hurtin' everybody!" Huitzi gasps, the positivity immediately vanishing, placing his unconscious passengers on the ground and taking several steps back. "I'm- I'm sorry!" He stutters.(edited)

with-bells-uponYesterday at 1:11 PM ...Blue doesn't stir. they'll be out for a while. Coryn flies back in, does a double take at Huitzi, looks at the damaged nightmares, and flies closer to the tall paladin. "easy." he soothes, "look at me, okay big guy? don't run away,  its going to be okay... dont leave, your friends still need your help."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 1:18 PM "I- I can't-" Huitzi shakes, hiding within his wings. "I'll just hurt them more!"

with-bells-uponYesterday at 1:19 PM "...hold out your hand for me. your aura can't hurt me." [1:23 PM] some short distance away, a skelegoat bitty 'drops' by the corrupted nightmares, teleporting in, and for a moment just stares at the injured bitties. ...a sigh, and the phantom winged one kneels by the closest, and begins offering heals... stars, the smell...

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 1:25 PM A shaking hand pokes through the feathers. Mercury whimpers, leaning vaguely toward the source of healing.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 1:28 PM Uriah rests his hands on the younger goop, mumbling quietly about how he'd better not get stabby like his uncle does... "well, not to me, but-" Healing magic flowing through him, curious, tingling gold and silver magics. Coryn lands lightly on the hand. "-listen to me, okay?" Fluff dad is in, well, dad mode. "I know what it's like to hurt someone with my aura. My brother is corrupted... it happened more than once, especially when we were younger. Are you listening?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 1:30 PM Mercury's whines fade to purrs. A tentacle gently curls around Uriah's hand. Huitzi nods, wings gently parting. He's crying.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 1:37 PM Coryn approaches, slowly. "Braithe and I were taken to a fell world, shortly after we came to be. We were all the other had, and in a world where we were 'valuable commodity.' Especially me. My brother broke more than one of my bones, I left him with more than one burn. " "-we did everything for each other, even when we fought. and sometimes it wasn't possible to protect without hurting at the same time. But every time, we would heal the damage we did. Because our magics might be opposing, quick to hurt, but healing magic doesn't care about that." "They need healing. And I can't do it. I spent too much time in that world, and ut took it's toll. my magic will never be strong again." "...If theres going to be healing, you need to do it. Uriah gives Mercury soft pats as he heals. "Dad's right, you are cuddly." He whispers.

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 1:39 PM "I- I-" Huitzi looks to the bitties, uncertain. "I don't know if I can-" Mercury purrs, nuzzling into the pats. Happy, mostly non-hurty boy.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 1:47 PM "...why? is your healing ability connected to your aura? have you never healed your friends before?" he was pretty sure this was unlikely, so- "-accidents happen. we hurt people we care about. no matter how hard we try not to... everyone does. the important thing is to make sure we do our best to make it right." Uriah looks up at the pair, then pats Mercury one more time before drawing away. "Okay, i need to go find my uncle now... dumbass got himself burned somehow. think you can help heal the others, or convince the tall feathery glowstock there to do it?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 1:50 PM Mercury whines at new healy friend leaving. "You're- you're right." Huitzi exhales, trying to calm his shaking. "I will do my best to repair them."

with-bells-uponYesterday at 2:02 PM Coryn sighs in relief, patting Huitzi gently. "Now I've gotta go find my brother... again. I don't know where he's hiding, but I felt when he picked up burns from your smaller doppelganger there. And, probably get between him and my son. Again."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 2:35 PM "Please call me if you require any help." Huitzi says, gently petting the bitty back and placing him on the ground. "...and thank you."

with-bells-uponYesterday at 2:53 PM Coryn climbs down, pauses, and smiles up at him softly, before lifting his wings, and flying off again. Tired fluffdad...

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 2:57 PM Huitzi approaches the bitties, healing them slowly and carefully, making sure to stop when they show any signs of discomfort, soothing them with pets, and getting back to healing until their smiling and purring.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 3:00 PM ...Fluffdad doesn't return... After several minutes though, his son does, looking over the group curiously. The skelegoat bitty adjusts his glasses, waiting to be noticed- or not, in which case he'll just continue eavesdropping.

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 3:22 PM Huitzi sits, the bitties (and Blue) gathered in his arms. The Nightmares purr, fully healed and drowsy, gently nuzzling him. Huitzi gently pets Magnus and Blue, eyes sad and full of regret.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 3:25 PM ...good enough, then. Uriah moves to slip away, not liking to leave his biggie alone-(edited)

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 3:33 PM "Fwiend?" Mercury mumbles, looking up, tentacles wagging weakly.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 3:34 PM Uriah pauses, and looks back, a smile playing about his expression. "Caught, huh?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 3:47 PM "Fwiend!" Mercury wiggles, holding out his hands. "Wan' hug!"

with-bells-uponYesterday at 3:52 PM "...sure?" Uriah heads closer, made curious by this behavior. The skelegoat bitty has unmistably fellish features, the sharp teeth, the added but of claw, the scattering of scars here and there across bone, including one that just grazed his socket. His eyelights are a light, easy going sort of gold however... a gold that extends in faint stains beneath his eyes, like tears that never quite faded. ribbons of faded black can be seen here and there as well, like more stains... left by corruption this time. ...his wings are a faint silver, almost more felt than seen, phantasmal things... Uriah reaches down to accept the hug, humming softly. "Feel better, do you?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 4:10 PM "Yuh huh!" Mercury nuzzles him, purring softly. "T'ank you for healies!" Huitzi looks down on them, smiling.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 4:12 PM A sound of amusement, rubbing the others back. "Well I mean, if your dad adopted my dad's son, I'm pretty sure that makes us family, right?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 4:14 PM Mercury makes a delighted noise, squeezing him. "New brudder! Yaaaaaay!!!"

with-bells-uponYesterday at 4:16 PM ...more pats. Uriah's a bit confused, but oh well. "New brother." He agrees. "That means you have another brother, and a baby sister too. But let's take this one step at a time."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 4:25 PM Mercury squees. "So many family!" He purrs, nuzzling. "Best day ever."

with-bells-uponYesterday at 4:33 PM "...it's not on my list of worst, anyway." the skelegoat hums, "my name Uriah, what's yours?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 4:45 PM "Mercury!" He says, a bit of clarity coming back to his eyes. "You gots a pwetty name!"

with-bells-uponYesterday at 4:48 PM "Thanks, you to-" a snarl comes from a room nearby, and Uriah smiles, relaxing. "Good. Dad found my uncle... he's gonna grumble and growl and curse the whole time he gets healed. Always does."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 4:50 PM "Is gonna be okay?" Mercury looks towards the sound.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 4:55 PM a chuckle, "yeah. he'll be fine. those two know each other's limits by now- and I'm pretty sure dad is on a short list of people he makes a point not to hurt. not anymore anyway." maybe a bit ominous... but he seems pretty confident. "-uncle just doesn't like admitting weakness. so he gets extra snarly when anyone suggests he needs help with stuff."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 4:58 PM "Sounds like Nightshade!" Mercury giggles.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 4:59 PM "...maybe. wanna know a secret?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 5:03 PM "Yah!" Mercury nods.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 5:05 PM A smile, kind of hard to read, but not unfriendly. "I'm pretty sure you lot are the first time either of them have even laid eyes on another dream or nightmare bitty. Bet they both did a few doubletakes, huh?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 5:06 PM "Your dad thought I was gonna stab him when I asked for a hug." Mercury giggles. "Was really happy when I was all cuddly instead."

with-bells-uponYesterday at 5:15 PM Uriah laughs, despite himself. "Well, like I said, the only other nightmare bitty he's ever met is my uncle... and while dad might be safe from him?" maybe less humor now, as he admits with a soft hum, "well. let's just say dad wasn't well suited for a fell world- but my uncle fit in just fine." "...and you should definitely cuddle him at every opportunity. definitely."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 5:16 PM "I will!" Mercury smiles. "I love cuddles! Cuddles are the best! I used to be real small and my momma could pick me up and hug me and it was awesome!"

with-bells-uponYesterday at 5:21 PM Something soft briefly touches Uriah's gaze. "Huh. Sounds nice." "...my biggie is really cuddly with me. carries me around in his scarf, that kind of thing. we have fun together."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 5:27 PM "Your biggie sounds really nice!" Mercury smiles.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 5:29 PM "...opinion varies." he admits, somewhat ruefully. he's quiet for a few seconds after this, before sighing, and smiling ruefully. "yeah, I'm gonna go check on him. I don't like leaving him around his stepbrother for too long without anyone to run interference for him."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 5:35 PM "Okay!" Mercury squeezes him. "Be safe!"

with-bells-uponYesterday at 10:19 PM A sound of, maybe find amusement, as he squeezes back. "Sure. Probably." Before this can be questioned, he's managed to slip free and teleport away. Slippery fellow.

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 10:21 PM "Bye Uriah!" Mercury waves after.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 10:23 PM ...Blue finally shifts, just a little.

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 10:25 PM "Mom!" Mercury is by their side instantly, Huitzi gently putting the lot of them down and taking a few steps back.(edited)

with-bells-uponYesterday at 10:38 PM Blue sits up, blinking slowly... they brighten to see Mercury, than freeze for one full instant, turning quickly back to their mate. Safe?

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 10:39 PM Safe. Magnus nuzzles against their side. Safe, but still asleep.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 10:42 PM Deep relief... Blue pulls Mercury close with one arm, Magnus with the other, and just, holds them. It takes several more seconds before they think to look over, and account for the others- -and. Paladin. Oh.

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 10:44 PM The others are sitting up and leaning on each other, still a little groggy. Paladin is still unconscious, nestled between the goopdads, overloaded by positivity and from being choked out.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 10:48 PM "..." a shaky breath, before they look back at Mercury, and up to Huitzi, seeking answers. "What. Happened?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 10:52 PM "...I wasn't careful with my magic." Huitzi says softly, ashamed. "It affected more than just Magnus. The others were hurt." "I healed them the best I could." He bows his head, awaiting judgement. "I deeply, truly apologize for my actions. If you want me gone, simply say the word."

with-bells-uponYesterday at 10:54 PM Blue looks puzzled, having, largely missed this part. "i dont know what you're talking about, but... you wouldn't hurt any of us on purpose. And, we missed you too much, and wanted you back too much, to want you gone." "...I meant... what happened with Paladin?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 10:58 PM Huitzi looks beyond relieved. "Thank you for your kindness." He says before looking to Paladin. "...I do not know. He was unconscious when I arrived."

with-bells-uponYesterday at 10:59 PM "...he, stabbed Magnus..." [10:59 PM] "..." "Why?"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 10:59 PM Huitzi frowns. "What led up to this?"

with-bells-uponYesterday at 11:03 PM Blue goes quiet, thinking. "We, met Bells' sibling. Er, brother. An Ink with a soul, and a cute smol. And, a lot of hurt, i guess. It involved black 2.0 and- also hurting someone out of jealousy. It was honestly a lot all at once, but-" "-Pal got bristly, Magnus informed everyone he was our son now too, and refused to get away from him when Pal said and-" "And Paladin tackled him, and they vanished, i- I should have followed sooner, but i didn't think-!"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 11:20 PM Huitzi is quiet, looking at the brothers. “I assume you are aware that when a pair of apple twins spawn, it is a 50/50 chance of them being bitter enemies or loving brothers. Sometimes, even after their dynamic has been decided, it is possible for them to switch, albeit temporarily. When tempers get heated, or things get emotional.” He looks to Blue. “It can be impossible to detect when this sort of thing is going to happen, when a simple argument can escalate into a battle to the death. Please, do not blame yourself.” He holds out his hand, a gentle offering of comfort. “They will likely be fine and deeply regretful once they awake, but it is likely best to keep them apart for the time being. Just in case.”

with-bells-uponYesterday at 11:24 PM ...okay. they'll just, never trust them to ever go off alone when they're angry again. but. they shouldve gone after them... Blue closes their eyes, nuzzling their large friend. "I didn't know." They whisper, voice shaking softly. "That's... terrifying. I- I'm glad they won't still hate each other later-" probably "but, it could happen again. I don't know what I would do, if-"

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 11:28 PM His thumb strokes their head. "Lucky we know several necromancers, yes?" An attempt at a joke. A bad one, but an attempt nevertheless.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 11:34 PM "..." it, successfully does manage to summon a smile, if a weak one. "yeah. guess so."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 11:35 PM Huitzi looks pleased. Magnus grunts, and starts to stir.

with-bells-uponYesterday at 11:37 PM Blues attention immediately turns to him- then to Pal- then to Huitzi. "Um. Maybe you could... see that they have that 'some time apart' thing?" They plead.

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 11:40 PM Huitzi's hand withdraws and he carefully extracts Paladin from between the goopdads, holding him to his chest and taking several steps away. Magnus' eyes open slightly. "Hmmwhazzuh?"

with-bells-uponYesterday at 11:44 PM Okay, relief... Blue wraps their arms around Magnus, nuzzling him gently. "Beloved~ Feel any better? You had me worried there."

AskbittyerrorYesterday at 11:50 PM The eyes close again and he purrs, nuzzling them back. "'m not dead, so I think I'm good."

with-bells-uponYesterday at 11:52 PM "Good..." they're just, gonna hold him. A lot. "I love you, Magnus. And I swear if you die, I will so send our kid after you." September 30, 2020

AskbittyerrorToday at 12:00 AM Magnus snorts. "Right back at you." A soft kiss. "Love you too, Blue."

with-bells-uponToday at 12:16 PM a kiss, deep, deep relief... and another... and, another... and then they just hold onto him, and pull Mercury close again too. "No more scary stuff for one visit, okay?"

AskbittyerrorToday at 12:19 PM "Agreed." Magnus nods, Mercury vibrating and nuzzling his parents. "...where's Pal?"

with-bells-uponToday at 12:22 PM Blue hesitates at this, drawing back enough to meet their mate's gaze. "...he's with Huitzi." they answer, unsure how he's going to react, whether he remembers, what will happen if he still needs to remember...

AskbittyerrorToday at 12:31 PM Magnus winces and rubs at the new scar on his chest. "Can't believe I actually pissed him off enough to try and kill me."

with-bells-uponToday at 12:41 PM "..." nuzzles again, sighing, "Huitzi... says it's something thst can happen sometimes, when tempers are heated. with 'apple twins.'" The enchanter rests their hand over his, where it rests over the scar. "Please tell me it's only as deep as bone?" They press, unmistakable worry here "...tell me you don't have a scar to match mine?" damaged bone, healed more easily then a damaged soul...

[alexandrasavior]

Alexandra Savior AMA !!

COMING IN HOT BITCHES!!!!

Hi Alex! How much of the instrumentation was figured out before heading into the studio? Did you just bring in bare minimum demos and then fleshed them out in the studio? Or did you have most of it prepared and just recorded it? I really loved the album by the way!

Thank you! It was different for each track. A lot of the songs I had full fleshed demos that my band and I had recorded in Portland, and Sam Cohen and I worked around those. Some of the tracks like "But You" I had some Garage band demos I made on my own that we worked around, and some of the tracks like "Soft Currents" were just raw iPhone recordings of me playing and singing, and Sam and I worked out together in the studio.

Your music has some really interesting chord progressions and melodic phrases. To what extent do you consciously apply music theory to your songwriting, and how much just comes naturally from ear and instinct?

To no extent :/ I am not super skilled in music theory, I just play around until it seems like it makes sense to me

You described your desire for Belladonna of Sadness to sound "murderous", and I thought that darkness and dangerous feeling really shone through. What adjectives would you powerfully ascribe to your sophomore album? What tonal differences were important to you while recording?

I like this question! hmmmmmm. “honest"

I'm pretty new to your music, but, everyday I can't stop myself from liking it more. My two current favorite songs are “The Phantom” and “Bad Disease”. I've seen that many people prefer other songs from the album, so that made me think. What is your personal favorite song from your new album? Thanks!

“But You”!

Hypothetical: You’re making a new album and need to assemble your dream band. Anyone dead/alive. Who are you choosing?

My best friend Emma, my boyfriend, Mel, and like my therapist

Is there anything that you do in terms of practice when it comes to vocals/guitar/songwriting to improve yourself? Interested to hear

Try to play everyday

I'd love to know if you've got any cool, hidden talents that you haven't shown in public. Also I badly want to know who's done the cover for both “Saving Grace” and “Crying All the Time”.

ME! I painted them

What are your tips for marketing your music and getting more people to stream/buy your music?

I am lucky because I have a team that guides me through social posts, and a publicist. But don't post pics of your butt

Your music and music videos have so many cinematic elements to them. Does an affinity for film influence your music? If so, do you have some favorite films you can mention?

yes! Bonnie and Clyde, Rosemary's Baby, Don't Look Now, Fargo, Daisies

I've seen a few people comparing your latest work with Lana del Rey's. Do you listen to her? Was she really an inspiration for the record?

I like Lana she's talented, I understand the comparison in some ways , people tend to compare things naturally. But, no she wasn't my personal inspiration in any conscious way

Did you make a conscious effort to distance yourself from the sound of Belladonna of Sadness with this new album?

No, I have gotten mixed feedback some people say its the exact same sound, some say it is different, I just created what came naturally to me and used sounds that I am personally drawn to.

If you were to try to make someone a fan of your music, but could only show them three of your songs, what songs would you show them?

oooooh! hmmmmm. “But You”, “Audeline”, “Crying All The Time”.

Excuse me Ms. Savior - I fell in love with your duet "We're Just Making It Worse" many moons ago. What can you tell us about that song?

Thanks! Well my homie Cameron Avery wrote that tune, he just asked me to sing on it and I was glad to!

What do you think was the biggest difference between writing The Archer and Belladonna of Sadness?

i was alone

What advice would you give to up and coming musicians in the LA scene? Any Dos or Don’ts? Thank you :)

Don’t be gross and creepy! Don't worry about that hipsta shit. Do be nice and make your own shit!

What is the most unusual thing that you do to help you write or to help you get some inspiration?

Stalk all my exes’ new gfs on insta and then eat an entire chocolate cake

Will we ever get to hear your version of “Miracle Aligner”?

probs not

When does the vinyl for The Archer ship? I am hoping to get one of you drawings with mine!

First batch tomorrow 1/17/2020. Second batch Tuesday 1/21/2020. Thank You!

I saw a clip from a concert you gave recently. It was you with a couple of bandmates singing something acapella. What's that song? Is it yours? It was gooorgeous. Any chance you're coming to Barcelona?

"The Oak and The Ash", an old celtic song. I will be playing Sala Nau May 13th!!!!!!!!

Can you talk about the differences in recording your first album while signed to a major label and this album while signed to a indie label? I know you’ve spoken about why you left Columbia, but I was wondering how your personal process differed this time around, especially with different resources and personnel?

Yeah it was a lot less pressure making this record, I had more say and more freedom of expression.

You said in an interview that you wrote the songs for The Archer on piano or guitar and brought them to the studio recorded on your phone. Would you ever consider releasing these as bonus tracks? 

I might ya! They’re probably a lot less interesting than you think

Do you have any tips on how to overcome writers block/find new ways to approach writing ? I've been struggling a bit lately... Have you been reading lately? If so, what books would you recommend ? :)

Just be kind to yourself, do what is natural, don't beat yourself up. I just re-read "My Year of Rest and Relaxation" by Otessa Moshfegh, now I am ready " Conversations With Friends" by Sally Rooney. I would recommend any Joan Didion, also I enjoy Salingers "Nine Stories"

This album feels a lot more personal than the first one. How would you say it compares in relation to how you expressed yourself as an artist?

I was very insecure while writing my first record, and I was co-writing so I used a lot of techniques to shelter my own opinions and feelings, in The Archer it was just me, so it was more of a journal entry than a big fancy record

Which artists did you grow up admiring, and inspired your style? Also, do you have any poetry recommendations, seeing how all your lyrics are poems in their own right?

hmmmm. ok Hilary Duff, Elvis, The White Stripes, Billie Holiday. Poetry: I don’t read much poetry but I like Rimbaud and Sylvia Plath

How did you feel when you found out “Risk” played on True Detective?

I cried

On Belladonna, what inspired the lyrics and melody for “Till You're Mine”? That song is always on repeat in my household.

Thanks! I would say my own insecurities and jealousy towards a specific woman in my life

Do you write the melodies as well as the lyrics or is it a collaborative effort?

For this record I wrote the melodies, lyrics, and chords for every song aside from "The Phantom" which was a collaboration with Sam Cohen.

What inspired you to make this new album?

I just make songs, and each song was inspired by something different, but mostly I needed to show people I WRITE MY SONGS

Do you have plans to sell more merch? I would really love to get my hands on signed stuff or one of your drawings/crafts.

yes workin' on merch now! <3

As a budding songwriter and musician myself is there any advice or wisdom you could pass on when it comes to making a career out of it?

I think writing as much as you can and trying to write honestly is important. I was lucky in a strange string of events that started my career, and every dream is different, but I suppose just keep writing and releasing your songs wherever you can

Often when I listen to music I tend to relate the song to places I've been to or places I'm at while listening. Is it the same for you when you write your songs? Do you think about a specific place for each song?

Yeah totally!

Would you ever be interested in collaborating with another artist on their record?

Yeah! Depends on who, I have always wanted to sing on a rap song.

Collab with Weyes Blood coming anytime soon?

i wish brah

Any tips on staying sane with dating apps?

don’t do dating apps

Romance is a topic which you touch upon in both of your albums. Do you have any words or phrases that have helped you through a difficult time, both in dealing with or exploring relationships past or present, if so what are they? What is your favorite set of lyrics ever, i.e. phrases etc.

"fuck hem he's a deck", "Kathy's Song" Simon and Garfunkel, "I Remember" Molly Drake

Do you use more real life experience or do you use more imagination/creativity when writing lyrics?

Depends how boring my personal life is at the time haha

What's your favorite Beatle, favorite Beatle album and favorite Beatle song?

Georgie boy <333333333

Are there any plans to record/release that “political song” with the violin that you played at Homiefest last year? For a third album maybe? Thanks, loved you since 2015 when I first heard that “Risk” demo for True Detective. The Archer is a masterpiece no bullshit.

maybe! lol

Where is the love for Chicago? How come we haven't had any shows yet?

Give me a break homie I don't plan this stuff! Would love to come to Chicago! It all depends on timing and $$$$

What was the most challenging song to write on this record?

maybe bad disease

Will there be more music videos?

I dont think so :/

I noticed for both of your releases, theres been a decent amount of time.. between when they were recorded and released. Have you found this frustrating more than anything or is it nice to have time to sit with the album?

Well, sometimes it is hard to move on and write more, with so much time between the final touches of the record and the actual release.... But, it ebs and flows and its out now so its no difference to me now

Who are some artists/bands that you personally enjoy listening to?

Jessica Pratt, The Jhamels, Molly Drake

You also seem like a prolific painter, who would you point to as inspiration/muse? My best guess would be Picasso.

Alice Neel 100%

When you feel like you’re stuck when you’re writing a song, what do you do to get around it?

I stop writing for a while, don't force it. Everyone's process is different so I try not to beat myself up too much about it

When Kevin Parker hit reddit someone asked him about if he can upload a new song and he did so... Can we hear a new song ?

If Kevin Parker jumped off a bridge WOULD YOU ?!

Who's your dream musical collab? If you were to make a soundtrack what director would you work with?

dream collab: Snoop Dogg, director: Quentin

Can you say a little bit about the creation of the album art? It's understated but there is definitely a mood there!

my dear friend Dana Trippe took the photos, and my dear friend Aaron Mitchell did the fonts

Noticed your music has a very “old horror movie/spaghetti western” vibe to them. Any films/soundtracks that inform your sound you’d recommend?

ooooh Anything Coen Brothers or Wes Anderson

How much was growing up in Portland an influence on your music?

I would say the rain had a lot to do with my melancholy, but also the music scene in Portland has always been very DIY and rock-based so “ guess that influenced me in some way.

What’s your favorite song of your’s lyrically and your favorite song to perform?

fave lyrically: Bad Disease, fave to perform: But You or Mystery Girl

The whole record was amazing but “Soft Currents” keyboards are really something else, are you planning to write more on the piano?

thank you! yes been writing a lot on the ole ivories

I love how a lot of your songs sound very cinematic - would you like to get into movie music in some capacity? Either scoring or soundtrack?

Awh hell yeuh

Is there a particular song that you're most proud of?

But YOu!

What would you say is your favorite guitar that you own and what is your dream guitar to own?

I am not much of a gear-head though I would love and old nylon string

Do you think that “Risk” will ever be made available on Spotify and Apple Music?

Unfortunately, because it was released on T-Bone Brunette's label, there was a legal situation that made me unable to release it separately. :/

Will you be making more of those amazingly weird embroidered underwear for your new tour? Obvs need some Savior swag on this tush.

I wish! I don’t have a sewing machine anymore but I will be selling my lil boxes online soon

Any chance for a show in Toronto? I'm a big fan, and I introduced my mom to your music and she absolutely loves you (her words) so I'd love to take her to one of your shows

hahah awh <3 None planned at the moment :(

What song on The Archer was a struggle to finish? Or were they all easy?

easy peasy lemon squeezy

Don't want to take away from your latest release (because it is an amazing album) but was there a reason you decided to not work with Alex Turner or James Ford for any of the new songs, writing or producing?

-__-

Since both your albums have been about relationships mostly, would you ever consider making a political song/album? What is your stance on that old debate?

I write what comes naturally to me

What should I name my snail stuffed animal?

gail

Why didn’t you get a proper promotional run from Columbia for Belladonna? It’s an amazing album but I just found out about you through The Archer (which is equally amazing).

I can't really say, but I don’t think I was ever gonna make the kind of $$$ Columbia wanted

Would you like to tour South America at some point in your career?

awh hell yeuh!

Is there any particular era/motive which inspires your music visuals (album covers, music videos)? All the best from Split, Croatia!

70s!

Based on your Spotify stats, what are the countries that listen to you the most?

IDK! France seems to be very supportive

Any artist that you like that you could recommend?

Jessica Pratt, Sudan Archives, Vagabon

What's your favorite thing to draw/paint?

women

Who is your favorite artist / what is your favorite album at the moment, and how would you say this impacted on how The Archer sounds? Also please come to the North of England 😂

I AM!!! CHECK MY TOUR SCHEDULE AND COME BB!! favorite album rn "The Colour Green" by Sibylle Baier

What’s playing in your head now?

the click clacking of a mac keyboard

How do you like your coffee?

a lil bit of almond milk

Will The Archer be getting a cd release?

no :(

That's all folks! Thank for all of the questions, and most of all thank you so much for listening to my songs, it is a dream come true <3 Come see me play at my upcoming shows ! Can't wait to see you there <33333 amour my homies

[tessatechaitea]

Black Canary: New Wings #2

"How about a photo-realistic view of Downtown Seattle and then I'll just scribble in some mountains up top?" -- Dick. "Please add some Black Canary Colorforms too." -- Editorial.

Even after giving Issue #1 an "A" rating, I still can't believe this issue is going to be anything but boring. Just look at this fucking cover! This is the kind of image a D-list publishing house puts on the cover of a biographical comic book about David Faustino. Did editors at DC think highlighting the city of Seattle in 1991 was going to move units? It's not even recognizable as Seattle! Okay, okay, you fucking Seattlites. Great, you recognized your city instantly! I guess this fucking comic book was for you then, you know-it-all twats. For the rest of us, we need the Space Needle front and center, not washed out in the pink morass over Black Canary's shoulder! You never see an artist for DC drawing an image of Paris without the Eiffel Tower. I mean, maybe not never, exactly. Sometimes they'll throw in the Arc de Triomphe or the Louvre or Notre Dame. But that's kind of the point! All Seattle has is the Space Needle! I'm not shitting on Seattle for that. I live in Portland and what the fuck do we have? A big pink corporate office building?! Oh, sure, we have some spectacular bridges! I forgot about those! Portland is better than Seattle when it comes to recognizable architecture. Although we don't have a troll sucking off a VW Bug under any of our bridges or a huge black cock jutting out of downtown (Big Pink is the best we can muster). I don't really care which city has better architecture! I can't stand people who feel pride for living in a specific city and then try to emulate the stereotypical person who lives in that city. If you're wondering who the fuck would do that, just watch any local newscaster in any city and watch how they try so fucking hard to be representative of the stereotypes of people who live there. Local news stations should stop airing promos that say shit like "First. Live. Local." Instead, they should just say, "We have no dignity. But we have the news! Although, to be fair, half of it is composed of viral videos everybody but our oldest of olds audience has seen." Another reason this cover sucks is that it declares the title of this chapter is "Home is Where Ya' Live." Is that some sage Midwestern non-wisdom that people spout in reply to some other person moaning about some problem? Like how when somebody in Lincoln, Nebraska is all, "I was shot in the leg on my way to Runza's!" And then somebody else is all, "It builds character." In California, we didn't have sayings like that. If somebody said, "I was shot in the leg on my way to Taco Bravo!", you would reply, "Dude! That's gnarly!" And they'd go, "I know, right?!" And then you'd be all, "Like, is this going to affect our, like, trip to the beach?" And they'd be all, "Nah brah! I'mma go, like, run some water on it! Good as new, dude!" And you'd say, "Tubular! Gonna go get my board! Catch ya later!" This is because nothing in California builds character. You just start off as a goofy, one-dimensional caricature of a human being and stick with it until you, like, die.

No white male has ever been called uppity and we all know why.

"Uppity" is a great word by which to judge somebody's character. I mean to say, if somebody actually calls somebody else "uppity," you now know way more than that person wanted you to know about what kind of person they are. Especially telling is if somebody doesn't understand why you're judging them for calling somebody "uppity." I stopped associating with way more people than I would have thought possible when they sided against Colin Kaepernick. Maybe they didn't use the word "uppity" exactly but they sure weren't hiding their feeling that some people should keep in a specific place and be grateful for what they've been allowed to have, so to speak. Unfortunately for them, my sister and my dad fell into that camp. Obviously they thought they claimed their dislike for Kaepernick was that he wasn't supporting the troops. But we all know how flimsy that bit of moral legerdemain really is. It takes an awful lot of mental contortion to simply disregard Kaepernick's stated protest of police violence against the black community and decide to believe right wing media that has a vested interest in a continued police state backed by corporate money. The whole "I'm a patriot so I find unpatriotic acts disgusting!" is the worst shell game every invented. All those fuckers who constantly thank members of the military for protecting their freedoms support Trump and Republicans who are fucking our freedoms in the ass (non-consensually! I support somebody fucking my freedom in the ass if my freedom feels like getting fucked in the ass tonight). I would thank a member of the military for protecting my freedom if they were ever fucking used to actually protect our freedoms. As a democracy (Don't you fucking representative republic me, you asshole), it's up to us to protect our freedoms and a good percentage of us are failing spectacularly at that job. Gan isn't just battling the small time crack dealers in his neighborhood. He's got his sights on Senator Garrenger as well.

Gan doesn't realize the opposite is also true.

Senator Garrenger is a white supremacist working with white supremacists to do white supremacy. Some of us have been fighting this shit for a long time. The problem is far more of us have been pretending it wasn't a real thing for even longer. "White supremacist Neo-Nazis infiltrating our police forces? Get out of here! You sound ridiculous!" was probably a thing said a lot in the last forty years. And yet even now that conservatives have found that they don't need to resort to dog whistles because saying the thing out loud that used to cause political backlash doesn't even cause a ripple of concern now. We have learned that a large percentage of our country doesn't give a shit if you're a racist, misogynist asshole as long as you say three things over and over again: "God Bless America," "Owning a gun is a God-given right," and "Abortions are evil." Tick off those boxes and you can dispense with all the dog whistling and just say the racist shit on national television. Dinah begins to dig up dirt on Senator Garrenger so that Black Canary has an iron clad excuse to punch him in the face. Her and Gan decide to work together to stop him and clean up the California drugs in their neighborhood. Not that they believe the two problems are actually the same problem! Not yet anyway! Dinah suspects it but Gan thinks she's seeing conspiracy where there isn't any. Dinah has more experience with how comic books work which is why she sees the entire forest already and it's only the beginning of Issue #2. Gan takes his show to the streets in front of a crack house to shame them out of the neighborhood. He doesn't realize it's run by the Senator's son who murders three of his "coworkers" to make his escape when the cops show. Gan is shot in the shoulder by the white supremacist assassin while Black Canary rushes in to help. A crack addict is blamed for the murders but Black Canary listens to his chaotic rambling, leading her to discover a shell left by the Neo-Nazi assassin. Black Canary: New Wings #2 Rating: B+. All the action is basically the last half of the comic book as a seasoned reader of comic books might expect. If a writer front loads the story with people discussing actual issues, the reader is going to get antsy for some mindless violence! Too bad for some readers the violence in this was't mindless but caused by truly awful people. People think the attitude of Comicsgate is a new thing but if you read the letters pages from the past, you'll see they existed back then as well. A lot of readers didn't want to be reminded that maybe the way they think and the things they believe put them in the realm of the "bad guy." So a comic book where the villain robs the bank or attacks Batman for the hell of it is okay because that reader would never rob a bank or attack Batman. But if you make the bad guy a senator who believes foreigners are stealing the jobs of good white Americans and maybe flooding their neighborhoods with drugs as a good way to fight against their "intrusion" into "white America," some of your readers are going to look up from the comic book and say aloud to nobody, "Hey!" And since most of them aren't in touch with their feelings or have ever really done a good, close examination of their self, they don't know how to deal with hurt feelings in any way but to be angry. It's easier to be angry at the person calling some white people racist than to have a good long think about why you might be upset about somebody pointing out racism.

[playedwright]

For the fic ask-- 17 for Shitty and Lardo (because I'm madly in love with both of them rn) or 19 or 25 for Nurseydex? (25 is just so.... them) Only if any of them strike your fancy of course!

17. “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

i chose to do shardo bc i’ve never written them before and i love a challenge!! thank you for the promptalso this turned out super melancholy and kind of sad? but like…. i like it

*

She finds Shitty sitting in the Reading Room, and it feels kind of inevitable that they both end up here as often as they do.

Lardo maneuvers herself quietly through the window. He doesn’t look up as she takes a seat next to him and draws her knees to her chest. There’s a half-smoked joint dangling between his fingers, but it looks like he hasn’t taken a pull in a while.

“Didn’t know you were still here,” Shitty murmurs. It’s rare, Lardo knows, this quiet side of him. Something only she is really privy too. Sometimes the weight of it feels suffocating; tonight, though, she just feels lucky. He offers her his joint and she takes it with a terse nod.

“I can’t sleep,” she says, like she’s commenting on the weather, like it’s not a heavy burden that feels sharp in her throat as she tries to say it out loud. She hasn’t been able to sleep in days. Her voice is too timid, not her own, when she asks, “Can I stay here?”

Lardo doesn’t wait for the answer, bringing the joint to her lips and breathing it in slowly. It might help her sleep, she thinks almost desperately. Shitty exhales as she does; he hasn’t really looked at her, she realizes, since she came out here and joined him.

“Course you can, brah,” he tells her. “Always an open invitation.”

Lardo takes another drag before passing the joint back to Shitty. He still doesn’t look at her as he takes it from in between her fingers. His eyes close as he takes a pull for himself. “If it helps,” he mutters, “I can’t sleep, either.”

“I wouldn’t describe that as helpful, no,” Lardo deadpans. Shitty’s laugh is strangled.

“I’m scared as all holy fuck, dude.”

Lardo closes her eyes. She drops her head to his shoulder. In what feels like almost no time at all, he’ll be gone. She’ll help him put a graduation cap on his head and he’ll inevitably ask her for help with tying his tie, and then she’ll send him across a stage to receive a diploma and wave goodbye as he crosses over to Harvard and doesn’t look back. She’s terrified, and she can’t say it out loud. She can’t admit it. She can’t admit a lot of things, if she’s being honest, and soon Shitty will be gone and she’ll never get the chance to.

“If it helps,” she parrots. “I’m scared as all holy fuck, too.”

Don’t leave me, she wants to say. You’re the first real thing I discovered here and nothing will be the same without you.

Shitty presses a kiss to the top of her head. They’re both exhausted, tired of running circles around each other and playing a game of will-they-won’t-they. There are appearances to upkeep and there are standards to be met; there are expectations on both sides of their families that neither of them think they can uphold. There is the undeniable reality that he’s going to Boston and she’s going to be stuck here, and there’s the looming realization that she has no fucking clue what she’s going to do this time next year when she’s standing in the same place she is.

She wants to follow him to Boston. She’s too terrified to admit it out loud.

“Can we go to bed?” she asks, instead of the thousands of other questions that whirl through her mind. Perhaps there isn’t an easy solution for them and perhaps there will be even more months of uncertainty. Perhaps she was too hard on herself when she came to Samwell with set expectations, and maybe it’s even too late to change those. But there are certain things that she can do now; she can lie with him on his bed, she can tangle her legs with his, she can listen to his heartbeat until she’s certain that both of their hearts are beating in sync. She can wake up early as she always does and slip out before even Jack wakes up, and she can wait in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a plate of cold breakfast before Shitty joins her. She can watch him stumble in, bleary-eyed and, as always, half-naked, and she can wish desperately that he’d cross the room and press a gentle kiss to her mouth before going to fill a cup of coffee for himself.

There are certain things she can do, and there are things she will stop herself from doing tomorrow, and somehow in between the mess of all of it, she will tell herself that it’s going to be okay.

Shitty stands and extends a hand to her to pull her to her feet. His fingers hesitate against hers and she knows he wants to hold on longer, too. They haven’t smoked all that much, but they can blame this on it in the morning. Lardo stretches up on her tiptoes and gently presses her mouth to his. It’s not enough, not by a long shot.

His heartbeat does line up with hers, when she curls against his chest and tries her best to fall asleep. She knows he feels the same way she does. She closes her eyes and hopes that one day it will be enough.

[hirokiyuu]

@brah-hella

“You deserve better.”

She almost hadn’t heard him, caught up in trying to split the meatbun into semi-perfect halves, but when she looks to him at her side he’s got that look on his face that he gets sometimes, when he wants to fight the world even if it’ll kick him in the face for even thinking about it. It’s not angry, really, not like she can get sometimes, but there’s a judgement in it anyways. “He always does this,” Mitsuo says, tugging on the ends of his already ragged scarf. “Just leaves everything to you --”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” Akiko says, finishing her tug and eyeing the halves for the bigger one to give to her brother. Mitsuo’s had color in his cheeks for two whole weeks now, and she’s doing her best to keep it that way. “I don’t mind taking care of you.”

“You shouldn’t have to!” Mitsuo says, even as she pushes half the bun in his hands before plopping down on their shitty bench at his side. “It’s like how Kyuger takes care of the princesses. He’s a god, and he knows better, so he makes sure they’re safe.”

Kyuger. She takes a nibble out of the bun so she won’t make a face. Akiko shouldn’t dislike Kyuger. Even if Kyuger’s sitting on his butt in the volcano, talking big about taking care of the islands while she scoops food out of the trash to feed her brother, Mitsuo likes him. Mitsuo likes the whole church a lot in general, honestly. They like him too, because it’s impossible not to like Mitsuo, but after the priest caught her filching a silver out of the donation box they don’t smile at her when she comes to pick Mitsuo up anymore.

“Dad’s supposed to take care of us like Kyuger takes care of the princesses,” Mitsuo says. He hasn’t even taken a bite of food, gesticulating as he talks, fire alight in his eyes. “Since he’s older and bigger and stuff. And he shouldn’t yell at you!”

“He shouldn’t yell at you, either,” Akiko says. She does her best to draw Dad’s line of fire, usually, but sometimes he’ll start going off about Mitsuo being a ‘fucking useless cripple’, or whatever, and Mitsuo will shrivel up inside himself and Akiko will have to shove him out of the house til he can get a little more sober. “Dad can’t even take care of himself. He can’t take care of us. Eat your bun.”

Mitsuo’s mouth sets. “Someone should take care of us,” he says, insistently. “Even if it’s not Dad. And they shouldn’t try to separate us, either. That’s just as bad.” 

Akiko nods at that, emphatically, and knocks her knee against his. He can’t actually feel it, but no one else is ever willing to touch his legs, and whenever she does it he always smiles. This time’s no exception, a small little grin aimed at her, warming her to her core. 

Still, the fire’s not quite out in his eyes. “It’s just not right,” he says again, giving a hand a sweeping gesture. “You shouldn’t have to do Dad’s job just because he’s too awful to do it himself! You deserve better. We both deserve better! We deserve to eat good food, and nice beds, and -- and -- oh!”

He’d been gesturing too much; in the middle of his sentence the bun flew from his hand. For a moment it arcs in the air, hanging suspended like a half-moon, before gravity returns all at once and sends it falling against the ground with a plop.

“I’m --” he says, and his voice is wobbling, “I’m sorry, Aki.” All the passion’s burnt out of him, leaving him sad and small and looking kind of like he’s about to cry.

“It’s okay,” Akiko says, squatting down to pick it up off the ground. She keeps their floor as clean as she can, but she’s out most of the time and it’s not like Mitsuo can sweep or whatever, so there’s still a layer of grime on the bottom of it. She starts to scrape it off carefully, making sure to get as little dough under her fingernails as possible.

“No, it’s not,” Mitsuo says. “Now I can’t even eat it.”

For a moment her hands pause, and then she gives up and just holds her own half out to Mitsuo. “It’s not a big deal,” she says. “Here, I didn’t have much of this.”

“But Aki,” he says, even as his fingers have already closed around the still-clean half. “You can’t eat that either--”

“It’s fine, it’s texture,” she says with a grin and a wink, and before he can protest she takes a bite. It’s kind of gross, honestly -- the thing was already half hard when she’d gotten her hands on it, cold and a little shriveled, and the dirt makes her want to scrape her tongue clean -- but she swallows it all anyways and then sticks her tongue out at her brother. “See?”

He smiles at that, a little, and that’s enough for the dark ugly thing in her chest to settle back down into a manageable size, enough for her to pack it back away in the dark ugly corner of her heart where it belongs. She loves him, so much. Without Mitsuo, sometimes Akiko thinks she wouldn’t even exist.

She stands back up, plops down on the bench beside him. “Can you tell me a story?” she says, pressing her leg against his. “After you finish eating.”

He laughs, unfurling a little more, and the sound of it is enough to fill her empty stomach. “Okay,” he says, “but only if you sing for me too.”

“Deal,” she says, and takes a bite of dirt.

[devilstar24]

Time to get serious a moment

Ahh I’ve never spoken out on Tumblr before, however it seems there is a problem in this foggy air and I believe it needs to come to the sunlight... But before I get to the main point of my statement and my rather vulgar call out for a particular set of people, I need you all to understand why I’m part of the issue at hand...

NOW THEN... The beginning, or rather where “solo” fits in within the situation. I came into the situation about a couple of years ago, around like the second time I was explained about the situation through Sir Teg, and Sir Star at the same time before their falling out (In which I”m not talking about lol no need)... I learned that someone Had given Teg a hard time and a hard way to go in life. Of course learning my mistake from the last time I tried to help someone, I decided to be there for teg 100% only when he needed the wolf. Turns out I did good at that point. However that Dumbass Twitch session situation occurred. And I lost Teg for the longest because he was frustrated and mad that he was talked about over a assumption in which there was no apology and the Evidence was deleted. When I managed to understand why Teg went silent, I got rather heated from the situation, however I didn’t know who caused this trouble... Meanwhile I decided to pop my twitter back into place, and low and behold, I find someone who I will not name for the point of this serious manner. Me being the guardian devil I am, decided to hop on said person’s twitter and wanted to see if I could get a follow, however I had to get approved for it. so I kindly messaged this person and even went so far as to ask for advice about some splatoon stuff being the nerd and dork I am. However, after a few posts about stuff here and there, I find out someone’s giving this person problems. Me being the kind person Literately asked if I could help, and I got told no there’s nothing I could do, so I said if there was anything I could do, please dont hesitate to ask and I got told ok. Then I went back to asking about splatoon stuff... and a couple of days later.. BOOM blocked. Got no answer rhyme or reason why I got blocked, just got blocked. So I was heated about this, and I went to my group about it. I find out this particular person has been giving Teg a whole bunch of bullshit all his life, and Teg decided now that it was time it should come out in the form of the call out.... the whole reason why I chimed in to this situation, was because It wasn’t fair I got singled as a “Friend of Tegan” just as much as all the other people who got blocked because of this shit... When the only thing I asked for was damn advice... Hell I even offered help to get the situation fixed. But no because I got blocked, a Ally was formed for Sir Teg....  NOW THE REASON.... why I’ve made this tumblr post, is because These white knights are getting the fuck out of hand here.... Everybody who I”m about to call out for reasoning needs to explain to me what gives them the right to Sham Teg just because he stood his ground and exposed the person who gave Him all this hell all his live... I need to know what kinda people you are to Allow These people to draw hate art, insult, Shame, and give the hardest time to someone who Was trying to be helpful and honest within this whole situation... I need to know where the fuck your balls go when Someone who was battle scared decided to Bring the pain and watched as People had his back soons you all tried to say he was childish and wrong for bringing up something that had This said person would’ve done, you all would’ve defended until the fucking death. ALL of you should be the fuck ashamed of yourselfs for even defending someone who was trying to Shame a friend.... #Prayfortegan? How about you use a new hashtag, #Growapair... or better yet #Beaman..... Because all of you are fucking pussies to be causing so much trouble to one person as soon as he decided to start defending and standing up for himself.... I stood at the sidelines watching and commenting of every single white knight post trying to say Teg was wrong, and I thought about it.... What If I called one of you out? What if I sat there and say come prove me the fuck wrong, Give me the reasonable doubt you all are actually good people.... So that’s exactly what i’m doing..... The following people I’m calling you out... if apparently Teg’s childish and wrong for bringing out the truth, and at the same time being salty about it by throwing more shade about it.... then clearly you can explain to me what gives you that right.... It’s because of you all that I damn there lost my homeboy not once... not twice... but fucking SIX times... and Dammit I will not let this stand.... Brah, at the end of the day, Within this whole fucking situation could’ve been avoided if the person in question could had just easily sat down like a damn adult and actually tried to arrange a sit down to get the problem fixed and resolved.... However sending your Other, and these white knights to fight your problem while calling Teg a fucking bully when clearly that’s what you were doing, is a whole pussy move...  so now I want to know who actually has a pair to come to me explaining what gives them this right... and at the same time I”m doing this callout to arrange a whole sit down with you all... It’s time this situation needs to be clipped before someone Life is taken away from the stress... I”m not regretting being involved with the call out... Personally I think it was needed to be done.. because You’re not gonna sit there and do all this shit, and not think you’re gonna be reprimanded for it and then bring all your fucking team mates or Knights to defend you when you’re clearly in the wrong.....  I kept quiet about this before I noticed that these people are throwing insults for Teg defending himself and Standing up to someone who actually deserved the bullshit that this person gave Teg....  The following people, If teg is apparently childish, then by all means, Explain it to me... I want to know fully because all of you Are Cowards... Every last one of you for doing what the fuck you did to Teg -_- Skysong,  Nyomin Dragoon , Sierra Q,  Official Agent 3,  Matt James,  TwilightGabb2010,  Damon Sunshine,  Ambunny,  Lohlite  and Most importantly the Leader of that Team, Los_inklings.... 

If you got the gall and the balls to come talk to me I”ll be waiting, but if you’re gonna skim past what I”M saying, and be a dick about my comment block me, and even go so far as to report me just as you did with Teg... Remember this one thing.... My point is proven.... I know one of you White knights are not cowards.... I want to know who so we can be civilized Adults and Try to get this situation and shit stopped...

Now that i’m done rambling I will cater back to my shadows I want these White knights to understand something... and I especially Want to let your leader know something important..... Misgendering? Tell your Other that what goes around goes around considering Both of you two did it first... it’s only natural We do it too...

I”m done Have a nice day 

[horoscopesbygil]

Horoscopes by Gil Hizon - November 19 - December 2, 2017

Rumblings on the horizon - that’s a good thing!

SCORPIES (October 23 – November 21)

For someone whose intensity usually alienates the fuck out of people, you sure can convince bitches to do your bidding. Blame it on the fact that within you, there’s been a shift in the way you approach new situations/predicaments in yo life. Dare I say you’re even optimistic AF nowadays. This is a great evolution in you and you should be able to keep up this positive momentum through the new year! =====

SAGITTICARIUS (November 22 – December 21)

There’s a lot of huffing and puffing with not much of substance where you’re concerned. But lucky for yo ass, close bitches and their moms have come up with a SAGITTARIUS filter to sift out the padding from yo truth. So rest assured that no matter how much discombobulated shit you spew out, the rest of us will be able to translate your real intent. And no worries, you’ll get all of the excess out of your system soon enough. =====

CAPRICORN-ON-THE-COB (December 22 – January 19)

Your divaness at your workplace is beginning to filter into your personal life. Usually you know how to turn the switch off that shit, but with the stress permeating throughout the many facets of your life, it’s hard to keep track of how to be anymore. Use the guidance of a good friend to steer you in the right direction, and for godsakes, don’t boss that bitch around! =====

AQUEERIUS (January 20 – February 18)

You’re the guy who wins one game of rummy and all of a sudden thinks he’s the shit. All of a sudden, you’re this cocky ass motherfucker who doesn’t know how to quit, betting on all them games and stuff. Before you know it, you have a gambling problem, a massive load of debt and everyone hates you. Don’t be that guy, dude. And just between the two of us, I let you win that first game, brah. =====

PI-SHEESH (February 19 – March 20)

Just because you’re feeling like your career is whooping yo ass it don’t mean that you should start setting the bar low. I know that second guessing yourself is your version of being realistic but what you’re not realizing is that some career paths take a fucking long time. If this is what you really wanna do in your life, you will stay and per-fucking-severe. Okay, queen? =====

ARIES IS BURNING (March 21 – April 19)

We’re tired of the gimmicks and the smoke & mirrors. It is time for you to set your sights on one of your big visions and follow the fuck through. There is a part of you that fears the unknown, so you’d rather jump from one big idea to the next, non-committal, rather than making an investment on one particular thing. We know you have the chops to make things happen. All you gotta do is see what we’re seeing. =====

TAURY SPELLING (April 20 – May 20)

Take it from me, this is not the time to make big swings - especially in the comedy department. Peeps are verrry sensitive these days that even one misunderstanding of your intent can turn your future into complete doodoo. Whatever instinct you may have, if there’s even a part of you that feels like it may be risky to carry out, then don’t even. Wait a few more months. =====

GEM IS EXCITEMENT (May 21 – June 21)

We love your big ideas, gurl, but right now, we need you to stick to the muthafucking outline. If it were just you on the chopping block, then we would be leaving you to your own devices, but there are other hos out here who will be affected if we don’t turn this shit in on time. So, please, queen. Save the dragons and gargoyles for another script. =====

KUH-KUH-KUH-CANCER (June 22 – July 22)

You’re not very good at saying no, are you? Especially when it comes to loved ones. Look. Being a full-time Yasss Queen takes a lot of fucking energy. And if you run yourself ragged, you will not be of any good to the bitches who you’re saying “yes, I’ll help you” anyway. You need to start setting limits and you need to start drawing lines. Save yo ass from possible immense exhaustion. =====

LEO MCQUEEN (July 23 – August 22)

Now that you’re back from vacay, it’s time to put in a few more weeks of hard work before the entire town shuts down for the holidays. I know that your mind will be tempted to get lost in the sea of commercial holiday spirit, but you have to rein that in, gurl. Crucial times call for crucial queens like you who can do the job and who lots of bitches depend on. Be a trooper. Not a daydreaming ho. =====

VIRGO/BEYONCÉ (August 23 – September 22)

As your responsibilities erode over the next few weeks, you may think that you’re in the clear. Not necessarily. Giving in to being unproductive will just leave you feeling restless and useless. You live to stress, and strategize, gurl. You must keep that struggling, survival instinct within you. Let’s face it. That shit is lifeblood for yo thirsty ass. =====

LIBBY JUJU (September 23 – October 22)

Just because one of your projects got pushed, it don’t mean that you’re in the clear. Things are actually tougher now because although you are allowed to start late, the deadline still stays the same, queen! You actually have less time now than you anticipated, brainiac! So stop procrastinating and keep yo ass in the game, honey! =====

(DISCLAIMER for all entries: This is all a shitshow!)

For more Horoscopes By Gil Hizon, click here, gurl!

And look! Mama made the news!

[cowandcalf]

Writer’s Month 2020 - To Find A Way

Prompt No.14 - Metamorphosis Part I

Chapter 1-6

Chapter 7

"Hey, Tanaka wants results on the case, asap. We need to come up with something useful today. He's pissed. He breathes down our neck. I hate it when he does that. We need hard proof to get that damn search warrant." Kono shoves a coffee to go under Danny's nose and hops up to sit on his desk.

Danny turns his phone upside down and pretends he hasn't been checking again if Steve had texted.

"What are you doing?" Kono's eyes are on his cell.

"Nothing."

"Uh-huh."

The hustle and bustle at HPD is intense with all the cops coming and going. An angry drunk shouts obscenities into the open space of the office where he sits cuffed to the chair next to Meka's desk. Danny watches the old woman who has lost her parrot. The poor woman clutches her purse and looks overwhelmed with what's going on at the police station.

"Kono, make sure Duke takes care of that lady over there. She's too old to sit for so long and she misses her pet. Can you do that?" Danny grabs his coffee and hopes Kono drops the thing with his phone. "Duke's always good with confused, old ladies. He'll make her feel safe and he'll find her bird."

"He's on his way back from questioning a witness. I'll call him and tell him. What's the plan for today?" Kono dials a number on her cell and looks expectantly at Danny.

"Let's check those bank accounts again. We need to find out how they get that money off the island. How they sell the puppies." Danny rattles down the points on their to-do list. He reaches for the case files with their suspects. "I'll comb through our interrogation protocols again to find the needle in the haystack. This lumberjack guy lies. We need some results fast. I wanna get back to the guy's house. I don't mind to punch the asshole in the face. We need to find the drugs and the puppies. God, I hate cases with puppy trafficking. People are so sick." Danny gets up and signals Kono to follow him.

"Where are we going?" Kono hops off the desk to catch up with him.

"I need a quiet place. I can't think in here. It's a mess and too loud. Let's go and sit at Kame's place. Maybe he knows stuff we don't. Let's work together."

"Tanaka wouldn't approve." Kono teases.

"I don't care shit about what Tanaka approves. He wants results. He'll get results. Come on, let's get out of here."

Danny checks his phone again. He can't fight that strong pull to just check on the incoming texts. It's pathetic and he's aware of that. But still. Damn it. Nothing. Danny senses the same dull tweak of disappointment when all he sees is the screensaver. It's Grace's picture. He loves Grace but still, he had expected a least one text from Steve. It's been days since he's watched Steve getting smaller in the rear mirror.

Grace's beloved face makes him smile of course. It's not that he doesn't love to look at a picture of his baby girl. But he would have liked if Steve had acted on that rain check. Steve hasn't texted in nearly six days. Not one lousy letter and it's messing with Danny's mood. No one needs to point out how stupid he behaves. Rationally Danny can deal with it, emotionally he can't. He worries Steve might have forgotten his number. But hey, he's ex-elite force. He should draw those few numbers from his mind with ease. And that leads Danny to the conclusion he tries to avoid. The one where the only logical explanation would be that Steve's just not interested and that he's forgotten about Danny.

Danny checks again, just to be sure he hasn't missed anything. He waits until Kono opens the door for him. His eyes are glued to the small display.

"Danny, we need to talk." Kono pushes the door open.

"About what?" He slips the cell into his back pocket.

"I've created a tally sheet to log how many times you've checked your phone since you've walked through that door this morning." Kono grins. "The log-ins are from five days. There's something going on. You never check your phone that often unless you expect something. It's not work-related I can tell. I smell romance in the air." Kono has this predator smile on her face Danny has learned to fear. She has tasted blood. Danny's in deep trouble. "You've met someone." That's not even a question. She's made a statement as if she sees right through him.

Danny's lost for words. "You did what? A tally sheet? What happened to privacy? And by the way, it's none of your business."

"You work with a bunch of crazy cops. Yes, it's my business. You're distracted all the time. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"I don't know? I guess? Could you just shut up about it? It's nothing." Danny defends himself.

"Hey, you just stood there, waiting for me to open the goddamn door for you because you were so busy with checking your phone!" Kono shouts. "Tell me!"

"No."

"It's my business too when it affects your work."

"It doesn't affect my work!"

"I brought you coffee. Every damn day! Give me at least some details. The big picture! Who's this person who makes you forget about everything around you."

Danny stops dead in his tracks and gapes at her. "You brought me coffee hoping I would feed you some rom-com shit you just made up?"

"It was your favorite coffee, brah! Kamekona doesn't break either. He won't say a damn word!"

Danny can't even throw his hands in the air. He holds on to his coffee and to the files he picked from under his arm. "You did what??"

"I asked Kame what's up with you. He wouldn't say but his face twitched. You know the way it does when he hides something. But he wouldn't budge. So, that only means that something important is going on and you guys, have a secret you won't tell me. And that secret is related to you and the constant checking your phone!"

The smile splits Danny's face in half. "You're a damn good cop, Kono-san."

"Don't, nuh-huh, don't Kono-san me, not working, Danny! Who is it? You try to hide everything. It's extremely suspicious."

"Get it, shut up, and don't make me push you out the door when we're on the highway," Danny grumbles. "We take your car. You drive. I go through the files on our way to Kame." Danny inhales and rolls his eyes. "And no more questions, Kono, I mean it."

Danny's phone rings. He jerks to the unexpected sound. Kono snickers with her eyes all over him. She doesn't miss a single detail.

"Eyes on the road, Kono. Jesus!"

"You're smiling like a stupid idiot." She says.

Danny's too busy to reach for his phone. It's Rachel. His stomach drops fast. The disappointment makes him bite the inside of his cheek.

"That's not the person you have expected." Kono leans in and reads the caller ID on the screen. She has no feelings for personal boundaries. She's a pain in the ass today.

"Kono! For fuck's sake, watch the road!"

"Brah, you act strange. All tense and shit. I don't like it. Spill it already, dude."

Danny scoffs an answer but takes Rachel's call. "Rachel, what's up? Everything's fine? Is Grace okay?"

When he hangs up Kono just takes one look at him and is all serious again. "Danny? What's up? What do you need?"

"Can you drive me to the hospital?"

"Whoa! Something happened?" She shouts.

"No, God no. Nothing. Rachel's fine, Grace's fine." Danny runs his hand over his face. "You know, I told you Rachel undergoes in vitro fertilization because she and Stan can't get pregnant. She got the call. She has a two-hour window to harvest one of her eggs. She's at the hospital. Stan's in a meeting. She has Grace and she's scared and upset. I'm her backup if Stan can't be there.  I'll look after Grace when she's under. Can we make a detour to the hospital?" Danny explains.

"Sure, brah, whatever you need."

Kono drops him off and snatches the case files out of his hand. "Leave this to me. I'm at Kame's. Call me if you need anything. Be with Grace and let Rachel do what she came to do. Stan's on his way. I called the office. I'll come and pick you up. Call me, okay?"

"Thanks, Kono. I owe you." Danny's thoughts are already somewhere else.

"No, you don't owe me a single thing, Danny-san. You're ohana but you're not off the hook about your secret romance."

Danny sighs and shakes his head. He combs his fingers through the ruffled hairdo. He watches how Kono filters back into traffic.

The reception at the fertility center/the child birthing ward is painted in calm and friendly colors. The staff is always caring and supportive. Danny has mixed feelings to step into this realm where sadness and happiness are equally balanced. He and Rachel had never any difficulties getting pregnant. He feels deeply sorry for Stan and Rachel.

"Danno!" A loud, high-pitched voice called his name. With her pigtails flying Grace runs right into his open arms.

"Hi, monkey! Hey, love to see you, baby-girl. Everything's fine?"

"I don't like this place." Grace wraps her small arms around his neck.

"I'll make sure mommy is fine and then we head outside to check-out that awesome-looking playground, okay?"

Grace nods and holds on to him. Danny carries his daughter over to where Rachel gets checked her personal details. "Hi, Rachel, how are you?"

"Hi, Daniel. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. I didn't have anyone else to call." She sniffs but stands tall. She's a brave woman. Danny's glad they've worked hard to become friends for the sake of Grace's happiness. They're good parents.

"Hey, everything's going to be fine. I'm here. I'll take care of Grace. Kono called Stan. He's on his way. You go and make sure you're one step closer to having a baby, okay?" Danny gently pets her shoulder. She seems so upset and nervous. Her eyes are big. She wears the stress like a cloak around her shoulders. The mood of her mother makes Grace cling to Danny. He holds her tightly to assure that everything is okay.

Rachel bites her lips. She shows a watery smile. "Thank you, a lot, Daniel. Can you – can you make sure Stan comes and finds me once he's here?"

"Yes, will do."

"Okay, I'll give you a call when I'm done." Rachel strokes Grace's back, "bye baby, mommy's back soon. Stay with Danno, okay?"

Danny and Grace wave Rachel goodbye. They watch until the automatic doors with the blinded glass close behind her back. Danny's gaze falls on a heavily pregnant woman who sits in the waiting area holding her round belly with her arms. She looks a bit stressed and her bangs are wet. Her cheeks are flushed. She sits there with her eyes closed and seems to breathe in a calming pattern. She's so young. Danny feels the distinct protective instinct kicking in. He hopes she's not alone and there's a loving husband who takes good care of her.

Grace wiggles in his arms. "Danno, can we go now?"

"Of course, monkey. Let's go and have some fun."

The automatic doors open again and a tall, dark, handsome man walks over to the blond, young woman. He wears cargo pants, dark, solid boots, and a rumpled navy-blue V-neck shirt hanging out of his pants. Danny recognizes the tattoos first. The way the guy walks over to the pregnant woman looks so familiar. Danny imagines bare feet and worn blue jeans and a lot of dirt.

Steve.

Danny hears Grace babbling and complaining. He holds onto her and watches Steve. He carries a bottle of water and sits down next to the beautiful-looking soon-to-be-mama. He gently brushes at the wet strands of hair to get it out of her eyes. Danny just stares at the perfect picture. He should have known it. Guys like Steve are taken, no matter the damage they carry around. Danny bites his tongue and swallows a pain so sharp as if stabbed in the gut.

The young woman must have said something because Steve's head darts around and he meets Danny's eyes. Danny hears the nurse at the reception talking on the phone. He realizes how Grace wants to be let down but he only sees Steve and the way he takes him in. The way his eyes shoot to Grace and back to him, and how he shuts down. How he pushes Danny away without saying a single word, or even twitching a finger. Steve doesn't smile, doesn't show he knows him. Danny feels deeply hurt and when he's hurt, he gets bold.

"Come on, Grace. I need to say 'hi' to a friend and I promise we're leaving after that." He puts Grace down and takes her small hand in his.

"Hi, Steve. Nice to meet you. I didn't know you're going to be a father soon. Congratulations." He says with the sweetest smile he finds in him. The hurt is like wet sand that pulls him down.

Steve clenches his jaw and stays silent. His gaze gets all soft when he looks at Grace though. "Hi, sweetheart, what's your name?"

Grace hugs Danny's leg and hides her face at his thigh. He protectively shields her by hugging her shoulder before he cups the back of her head. "That's Grace, my daughter."

Steve withdraws even more. He shuts down in a way Danny only senses and it hurts. It hurts. And he knows he has no right to feel hurt because he has no claim on this man.

"Okay, guys, I don't know what's this all about but Steve, you're rude. Just say 'hi' to your friend. God, Punk, where are your manners?" The young woman grunts and pushes herself to sit upright with her legs spread wide to make space for her round belly. Steve's immediately at her side to help her.

Danny's afraid she's going to pop any minute. "I'm Danny, hi, nice to meet you. Steve and I only met once. He might not recognize me. I wish you all the best and I hope you're doing fine. When is your due date?"

The woman's mouth falls open. She grabs Danny's hand with both hands and keeps it sandwiched in hers. "You are Danny?" She gasps. "Wow!"

A shudder of excitement ripples through Danny's chest.

Steve jerks out of his stupor. "Mary," his voice carries a warning tone, "just – please? Could you not?"

Grace whispers too loud that this woman has a baby in her belly. This makes even Steve smile.

"I'm Mary. It's so nice to meet you, Danny. Steve talked about you and I'm so happy to meet you. He promised I might one day but you know I'm impatient. And here you are. And I'm not due for two weeks. But our little sweetheart makes her own rules. It was a false alarm. I told Steve but he freaked out and wanted to go to the hospital to be sure. He's my brother, by the way, my big brother. Kawika, my husband, is on his way but he wasn't there when it happened."

Danny has a tight grip on his features. The odd mix of emotions makes him sleepy. What does all this even mean that Mary just spilled with this cute smile on her face? He can't look at Steve.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mary. I'm glad everything's fine." He wants to add more like thank you for taking good care of Steve or any similar, emotional shit he has no right to say but Mary's name gets called.

Danny turns to spot a good-looking man, dark skin, curly hair who jogs over to kneel at Mary's side. "Hi, baby, I came as fast as possible. How are you? How's our little nuglet?" The man kisses Mary's belly with so much love and devotion Danny has to look away.

"All the best to you, guys. I take Grace outside to play."

"Danny, wait!" Mary speaks up. "Kawika I want you to meet Danny. Danny, meet Kawika, my husband."

There's a glint of recognition in Kawika's eyes. His handshake is solid, strong, and full of trust. "Nice to finally meet you, Danny."

Danny's isn't far behind with being brilliant at filling in the gaps. "You're a friend of Kame."

Kawika's smile is blindingly open and kind. "Yes, and thank you."

Danny knows instantly he's referring to Steve and what has happened almost a week ago. Steve has talked about him with his loved ones. Danny's mood rises like a morning sun. He feels great. "You take care of your sweet wife."

"I will." Kawika turns and pulls Steve into a fierce embrace. They seem to be very close.

"Danny," Steve's voice makes him stop again, "I'll come with you and Grace if you don't mind?" That's the first sentence Steve says since they've met again.

"Sure, let's go."

On the way out, Graces holds on to Danny's hand and peeps up at Steve who walks beside her. Out of the corner of his eyes, Danny sees how Steve gifts her with lovely smiles until she giggles. Danny's heart just flips over in his chest.

TBC

Also on AO3

[justlookfrightened]

Just an Old, Sweet Song

I was struck by the thought for this after I read First Skate by flaming_muse. One of the reasons Jack finds it so easy to spend time with Bitty is because when he does, no one is focusing on Jack. It's probably a load of self-indulgent nonsense, but I had fun with it!

Read it on AO3

Fall 2013

Jack shook his head again.

What was it with that kid, Bittle? Bringing a pie to the first team meeting? Fainting at practice when someone just barely touched him? And what was with the rest of the team? Ransom and Holster were acting like he was the younger brother they never had, and Shitty had all but adopted him.

Shitty had barged into Jack’s room through their shared bathroom and accused him -- accused him -- of being too hard on the kid. This was after Jack woke up at 4 a.m. three times a week just to make it possible for Bittle to take the ice as a member of the team. What did Shitty want from him? He was doing his best. It wasn't like if this team fell flat on its face anyone was going to blame Bittle.

Did Shitty want Jack to embrace Bittle and act like he was an asset to the team? When he was so scared of being hit he couldn’t even keep his eyes open to shoot? Sure, the puck went in, but it was a lucky shot. It was.

But now Bittle had won over more than the team; Jack’s father was a fan.

A “clutch shot”? Really, Papa?

Jack knew Bad Bob and his enthusiasms. Now he would have to hear Shitty’s odes to Bittle’s pies, Ransom and Holster trying to figure out what date would be good enough for him, and his own father, probably extolling the benefits of figure skating training for hockey skaters. Not that Bad Bob had ever in his life worn figure skates, to the best of Jack’s knowledge.

“I just want him to take the game seriously,” Jack told Shitty. “This is important.”

“Jackabelle,” Shitty had said. “Canadian hockey Adonis. It’s a game. Why can’t you see he’s a fucking ray of sunshine? And if that’s not enough, he’s fast as fuck and none of the other teams expect it?”

Spring 2014

Shit. Shits was right. Bittle was really fast, and while other teams were trying to catch up to the red-and-white blur that was No. 15, Jack could get into position and be ready to catch the passes that Bittle threw to him.

When Bittle drew all eyes to him, Jack scored, and each tally brought him one step closer to his goal. One step closer to claiming a place on an NHL team, a chance to play for the cup, to write his own hockey legacy.

Almost as important, Bittle was paying attention to the game, to the way it should be played. He’d practiced checking with Jack without complaint, he kept his head up, and he listened to Jack.

Jack was pleased.

Until it all fell to pieces.

Jack thought it would be fine. It had always been fine before, when they ran that play. Sure, Bittle would draw the D behind the net -- that was the point of the play, to get them to clear out from the front of the goal, leaving Jack one-on-one with the goalie, whose head would have to be on a swivel to track the puck.

But once Bittle passed to Jack, the D should follow the puck. Bittle should be safe.

Jack didn’t count on a late hit that would send Bittle airborne. He didn’t count on Bittle crashing down, his head bouncing on the ice as his helmet skidded away.

Once again, all eyes were on Bittle as he struggled to his feet and skated off.

Jack didn’t need to see the trainer run the concussion protocol to know that Bittle was done for the foreseeable future, most likely the rest of the season.

So much for using him to distract their opponents.

But of course Bittle deserved the Carlisle. He did his job, he drew the attention, and he paid the price.

Shitty agreed, Jack knew. When they discussed it, Shitty said, “Yeah, brah. And don’t forget, he does it all with pie and a smile.”

Fall 2014

Jack thought he'd gotten to know Bittle pretty well during Bittle’s frog year -- better than he'd gotten to know the other frogs in that class, at least. Part of it was the way the older team members had adopted Bittle, part of it was the way Bittle had taken up residence in the Haus kitchen, and part of it was all the time Jack spent with Bittle to help him learn to take a check.

But nothing prepared him for the reality of living across the hall from Bittle. From the day Jack returned to campus and was greeted by Bittle in a pair of shorts that barely deserved the name, to the near constant scents of butter and sugar as Bittle tried to single-handedly ruin the entire team’s nutrition plans, to the strong tenor belting out pop songs at 8 o’clock on Sunday morning, the one day of the week Jack could sleep in, Bittle’s presence was everywhere.

That might have been why Jack was so shocked when he heard that Hall and Murray were thinking of taking Bittle off the roster. Sure, he'd noticed that Bittle wasn't quite up to his level from the end of last season, but he hadn't even been cleared to skate until just before practice started. And of course he'd noticed Bittle collapsing on the ice, but it was better. It was only twice the first week, not twice the first day.

Still, it got the new frogs looking at Bittle, and not in a good way. Jack had never had to fight for ice time, not at any level of hockey he'd played. But he knew that on most teams, the competition between the players was almost as fierce as the competition with their opponents. As a captain, he had welcomed that; the harder the guys fought, the better players they would become.

Bittle was still the fastest skater on the team, on pretty much any team they would be facing, and Jack wanted him on his wing. So if he had to start 4 a.m. checking sessions again, that's what he would have to do.

Ending up in Women, Food and American Culture with Bittle meant they left team breakfast together as well as arrived together three days a week. Jack couldn't say he was impressed with Bittle’s study habits, but he seemed to get at least the food part of the material with no effort.

Jack knew he shouldn't have worried about Bittle and the frogs. By Hazeapalooza, Bittle had them thoroughly won over, and none of them seemed surprised by his offers of sweaters and pie. Jack surprised himself by how much he enjoyed being “hazed” by Bittle and Shitty. It wasn’t really an initiation for him. For him, it felt like an acknowledgement from the team that he could be one of them. In spite of everything.

Jack found himself fitting into a team better than he ever had, even in juniors, when he and Kent had more or less closed everyone else out. No one else had their talent, no one else had their work ethic, no one else was going to be drafted, at least not in the first round.

This team was less talented, and had to balance their hockey with classwork to prepare for real lives that wouldn’t be focused on the game. No one on the team as yet had been drafted at all, although Jack thought each crop of frogs got closer to the mark. And yet, for the first time, Jack felt like he had friends, guys who liked him no matter how he did on the ice, who saw him as a person first, not just their best chance to improve their game and get noticed and make it further than they could on their own.

It was that sense of belonging that led Jack to stay downstairs during Epikegster. Well, that, and Bittle asked him to stay. Jack might be the captain, but he was coming to see Bittle as the center of the team, whether he was belting out Beyonce lyrics (and yes, Jack could recognize at least a half-dozen Beyonce songs by now), spinning around defensemen or baking his teammates’ favorites. It was no wonder Jack felt his attention drawn to him, no wonder that he looked happy in the selfie they took together.

Then Kent showed up, sucking up all the attention in the room, and the air from Jack’s lungs. Jack tried to escape upstairs, but Kent followed him, and it took less than five minutes for Jack to be right back where he had been, having to work to remember who he was now, where he was now.

When he finally got Kent to leave, Bittle was there. Bittle, who usually had everyone looking at him, was looking at Jack and seeing him in all his weakness for the first time.

Spring 2015

Jack wasn’t sure how to get back onto the easy footing he had shared with the team when he returned after the holidays. He didn’t think Bittle would have told anyone what he had seen and heard, but what if he had? Or what if Kent’s appearance had done enough to remind everyone of who he was, what he had done?

This time, instead of arriving to Bittle in tiny shorts and a tan that looked like it covered his whole body, he walked in the Haus to see Bittle and Ransom doing squats to music. This time, it was cold outside, cold enough for pond hockey, and if Jack wanted to take everyone’s mind off what happened before break, he had only to invite them to play in the ice and snow.

Bittle was the only person who seemed to remember what happened before break. He accepted Jack’s assurances that all was well, then once again stole the attention by executing some kind of figure-skating jump on the rough outdoor ice -- in hockey skates and full pads, no less.

The grin on Bittle’s face rivaled the January sun breaking through the clouds and Jack basked in it.

After that, it only seemed natural to enroll in Bittle’s food science class, and if the pictures Jack shot for his photography class tended to feature Bittle more than anyone else, well. He was photogenic, and usually doing something that wasn’t MarioKart.

Jack started bringing his laptop and thesis notes to the kitchen table in the afternoons and evenings, when Bittle would feed the boys samples of whatever he was working on while pretending to do classwork. Jack didn’t think it was strange that he was developing new study habits as a senior; Shitty was almost always down there too, as was Lardo, even though she didn’t live in the Haus. Rans still preferred the library when he had an exam coming up, but otherwise, he and Holster also pulled up chairs in the kitchen.

The thing was, all this camaraderie and togetherness was binding the team more tightly together than ever, and they were playing by far the best hockey of Jack’s college career. They were doing it despite more pie than was strictly healthy, a freshman goalie and a new D pairing that was at each other’s throats when they weren’t reading each other’s minds on the ice.

Maybe Bittle’s good grace about being stuffed into a hockey bag before any game was what did it. Bittle said he had to go along with the superstition and do it for luck since he still couldn’t grow truly visible facial hair.

SMH didn’t so much slide into playoffs as charge into them, and Jack knew that however the season ended, he had a good seven or eight NHL teams interested.

He couldn’t sign anywhere until the college season was over, but he was pleased that he would have choices.

When the season ended with Samwell coming in second, Jack felt the letdown, felt that he was a letdown, but it didn’t last. Soon, he understood that the real loss was this team that had accepted him as their own. Graduation was rushing up to meet him, and Jack wasn’t ready.

Sure, his thesis was done, and he’d made his decision and signed with Providence. Not just because it was only 45 minutes away from Samwell, but the easy distance was a point in its favor.

No, Jack didn’t want to leave this team behind. He finally understood what his father meant about the best teams being like families. It didn’t happen very often, Papa said, but when it did, it was something you wanted to hold onto. When he was younger, Jack thought the best teams were the ones that won championships. That hadn’t happened for Samwell, but it was still the best team he’d ever been on.

Of course he would do whatever he could to keep that going, even if he was moving on. A new stove for Bittle was a small price to pay for the continued comfort of the Haus and its inhabitants. He made sure Ransom and Holster knew they could contact him for advice whenever necessary, and promised himself that he would keep in touch with Shitty.

When it came time to kiss the ice and then keep vigil on Faber’s roof, he saw the way Bittle was curled in on himself, hugging his knees. Bittle had grown so much, but he was still a Georgia boy, Jack thought, taking off his own jacket and draping it around Bittle’s shoulders. When he tugged Bittle closer, the better to stave off the cold, Bittle leaned into him, and Jack felt the warmth they shared spread through him.

He really should have known then. He shouldn’t have been surprised at the vague sense of unease after graduation, after saying goodbye to his friends. Papa had always liked Bittle, but still, shouldn’t Jack have realized before his father? Had he been so busy looking at Bittle he forgot to look at his own feelings?

All Jack knew was that when he found Bitty crying in Jack’s old room, the only thing he could do was kiss him.

Summer 2015

Jack was scanning the baggage claim area as soon as he got past the security gates. Hartsfield was busy, but Bitty was always easy to find. He was easily the most luminous person in any group.

But not here, apparently. Jack’s eyes had passed right over Bitty leaning against a pillar near Jack’s baggage carousel. He was dressed in faded khaki shorts and blue polo shirt, tan deck shoes on his feet and his phone in his hand.

He was just as beautiful as Jack remembered. His hair was maybe a touch blonder, and his skin a shade darker -- he’d spent some of the last six weeks in the sun, then. His smile when he looked up and saw Jack staring was just as warm. But somehow, he seemed to blend in to the background more.

It wasn’t that the other people in Georgia were as radiant as Bitty was. It didn’t take Jack long to figure that out. No, they were all unfailingly polite, in that way Bitty was with people he didn’t know well. Or the ones he knew and didn’t like much.

Everyone was very hospitable, as well, from Bitty’s parents and relatives to the clerks in the stores and the other people at the community picnic. They all wanted to know if Jack had everything he needed, if he was enjoying himself, if they could do anything to make his visit more comfortable.

Jack wanted to tell them they could leave him and Bitty alone, let him hold Bitty’s hand, let him soak up Bitty’s warmth and count every freckle on his face.

He didn’t think Bitty would mind that he wanted to do those things. But the way Bitty held himself -- always a hard six inches between himself and Jack whenever there was a chance anyone would see -- and looked at him -- or rather, didn’t look at him, not like he did at Samwell -- made it clear that Bitty didn’t think that would be a good idea.

If it wasn’t for the way Bitty burrowed into his arms as soon as his parents’ bedroom door closed for the night, Jack might have worried that Bitty’s feelings had changed.

That first night, Jack tried to bring it up. He knew Bitty made the pie they had for dessert as soon as he saw it, but no one exclaimed over it, no one thanked Bitty for the effort he’d made. When Jack did, Bitty just blushed and looked at his plate. Coach made a sound that might have been a snort, and Bitty’s mother just said softly, “Yes, everyone likes Dicky’s pies. They always sell out when the church has a bake sale.”

“I bet you’ve never baked a pie, have you, Jack?” Coach asked, as if a lack of baking experience was something to be proud of.

“Actually, I have,” Jack said. “Eric helped me bake a pie for a final project last fall. He was an excellent teacher.”

After that, the conversation dropped, and Jack wanted to know why.

“How come you didn’t talk about your baking at dinner?” he asked.

“No one wants to hear it,” Bitty said, his face still pressed to Jack’s chest. “They think it’s weird, a boy who bakes. But they still like the way it tastes, so no one actually gets upset about it.”

“It’s not weird,” Jack said.

Bitty pulled back a fraction so he could look Jack in the face.

“It is, at least here,” he said. “Best not to draw too much attention.”

“No, I guess not,” Jack said, understanding only too well. “But Bitty -- this isn’t good for you. You know that, right? You should be where you can have all the attention you want. People should look at you, Bits, and they should see you, because you’re amazing.”

Jack leaned down and kissed Bitty gently, afraid to push the moment too much.

Bitty kissed back, then kissed Jack again for good measure.

“You too, sweet pea,” he said. “You too.”

[porcupine-girl]

Today's theme for @omgcplovefest is your top 5 favorite fics in this fandom!

As I have before with rec lists, I'm disqualifying anything on the first two pages of the CP tag on AO3 sorted by kudos - everyone knows and loves those fics, they don't need my rec. Some of them are amazing stories that I've read multiple times, but so have most people.

But that still leaves so many great fics, and this was so hard! So this is not quite a definite Top 5 and more like Five Fics That Are Definitely In My Top 20 And You Should Read. Ask me on a different day and you might get a slightly different list, but these are all way way way up there.

Finally I'll Be Yours by @angryspace-ravenclaw

When Jack uses a youtube tutorial to make cupcakes, he doesn't expect his entire life to be turned upside down by the charismatic Eric Bittle--YouTuber extraordinaire.

I think one of the first WIPs I followed in this fandom. Bitty has cystic fibrosis and is Deaf, and since the author has personal experience with both of these it’s very realistic and deals frankly with Bitty’s health problems. But it’s also incredibly sweet and fluffy as these two fall for each other immediately, before they can even meet in person, and there is hurt/comfort all around.

---

baking is punk as fuck by @heyfightme

“Yeah, dude, I guess. But, like, this is a fuckin’ liberal arts college, brah. Isn’t everyone in a band?” “I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone in a band before. I’m not in a band. Well, I’m in some school bands, but that’s not really… um. What kind of music do you play?” “…Well.” --- in which instead of actually playing hockey, the guys play shitty (pun intended) DIY punk in a band called Soft Hands. classically-trained pianist eric bittle doesn’t quite know what’s hit him.

Ok, this one doesn’t really need the rec either tbh - the only reason it’s not on the top two pages is because it’s so recent, and it’s on the third page as it is. You’ve probably all read this amazing and fun AU, and if you haven’t, you are missing out. Again, the author having personal experience with the AU setting gives it a realism that makes the story that much more immersive. Plus lots of good music recs built in!

---

Scar Tissue (That I Wish You Saw) by sysrae/ @fozmeadows​

For the longest time, Kent thought what happened to him before the Q was normal.

Or: a study in Kent Parson, past and present.

The only non-Zimbits on the list (they’re in the background, though). This deals frankly and harshly with one possible backstory for Kent, and what happens when he finally starts to deal with it. Answer: Gets a really hot boyfriend. For real, I want Ngozi to draw Day into the comic so I can ogle him. But seriously, shit goes down in this story, but it has a happy ending with Kent on his way to healing.

---

Two Things Only by @thewesternredcedar

Bitty sighs. “So now everyone in the Haus thinks I’ve started a long-distance relationship with someone from California named Colton who I met through Twitter…” “Colton?” “I know, Jack. I was panicking!” Jack has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “Okay. Colton.”

Or, the one in which Mashkov says the line, “Soon you get head here, too,” and it’s not a sex joke. Enjoy.

I won WRC’s auction in FTH, and this is what I got and it’s so good. I just scream and reread it and scream some more. From Jack’s ridiculously awkward attempts at tweeting as Colton, to Bitty being prepared for Jack’s visit to Madison, to the ending that I did not see coming, it’s just adorable and perfect.

---

Journeyman by imamaryanne

Journeyman - an athlete who plays for a large number of clubs over his professional career.

Jack Zimmermann signs with Providence, but winds up playing for five clubs in his eight year career. Good or bad, Bitty is with him every step of the way.

This fic does such a great job of showing the ups and downs of Jack and Bitty’s life together over time as Jack gets traded repeatedly. It deals really well with the realities of negotiating a marriage where you can’t always control where you live, or whether you’re living together (a topic I am all too familiar with), medical problems, Jack’s addiction, all sorts of things. Like, so much happens in this fic, it’s hard to believe it’s under 40K!

[piesforjack]

conscientiouscoattwirling replied to your post “fic prompts?!?!”

i would really love to see a story where bitty is getting hit on aggressively by a drunk guy and jack jumps in to defend/protect him ive seen a few like these and i know bitty can stick up for himself but i really want to see one where jack is protective over a bitty who maybe doesn't know how to handle the situation ����

@bittysbowtie ask and ye shall receive! sorry it took so long, my friend!!!

(tw: for slight non-con (NOT sexual, but aggressive flirty behaviour) and description of an anxiety attack)

Bitty is used to sloppy drunk jocks, he lives in a house chock full of them, sometimes he is the sloppy drunk jock. So he understands just how not easy it is to be suave and gentlemanly three cups of tub juice in, really, he does. Normally, Bitty can handle even the sloppiest of drunk jocks (aka Holster, nine beers in, warbling out Adele at 3AM) but his tolerance might draw the line somewhere between obscene dance moves and uninhibited karaoke, and aggressively crowding into someone’s space with the most abhorrent liquor breath known to man.

He definitely isn’t a LAX bro, which thank God, he’s a new face. Bitty doesn’t recognize him at all, and even at his sloppiest he’s always able to recall familiar faces and their pies of choice.

This boy is tall, not quite Holster height but getting there. He has dark, heavy brows and a chin strap beard that Bitty’s itching to peel off like a sticker. Overall, he isn’t terrible looking, but Bitty doesn’t care for how close he’s standing, especially how his arm is squaring Bitty into the corner of the room, boxing him with no sight of almost anything other than this guy and his smarmy grin. Bitty is trying to stand on his tiptoes to make eye contact with any of the Haus boys, but he can barely catch a glimpse before his feet give out and he falls back to his normal height, cursing under his breath.

“So what’s your like, hockey spot?” The boy slurs. Bitty narrows his eyes.

“What? Hockey spot? Like, where we play? We play at Faber, obviously.” Bitty bit back an eye roll, his Mama raised him better than that. The boy just chuckled lowly, his mouth moving uncomfortably closer to Bitty’s ear.

“Like, I don’t know how to say it. But like, you seem a little small for a goalie.” The boys breath was warm and wet and almost sticky and Bitty shivered for all the wrong reasons. He needed to get out.

“Position, those are positions.” Bitty was choking out the words, trying to hold his breath and put as much distance between him and the stranger. He could distantly hear the front door open and close and a whirl of cheers spreading through the front hallway. 

“Position, that’s the word. What’s your position, uh...” The guy was fishing for a name, trying to be subtle in his execution, but Bitty didn’t take the bait.

“Right winger,” Bitty answered, trying to rise again to see what all the commotion was. He could catch flashes of Haus boys swarming to whomever had just come in the door. Bitty fell back to his normal height, puffing a loud sigh and crossing his arms; it seemed that Sir Chin-Strap was trying to close in even further and Bitty was running out of space to back in to.

“I have no fuckin’ idea what that is, but that’s hot.” The strangers words were dripping with an attempt at seduction, Bitty was squirming as the man’s lips brushed the skin just south of his earlobe.

“Where’s Bitty? He’ll want to say hello, for sure!” Bitty could overhear Chowder shouting. If someone would just look over this way. 

“Bitty? Itty Bitty, wherefore art thou?” Dex was calling out.

“Dude, wherefore art thou doesn’t mean ‘where are you’, it means ‘why are you’, brah,” Nursey slurred matter-of-factly. Bitty could almost see Dex’s face fuming.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Bits in a while,” Holster voice was edging with concern.

“Maybe he called it an early night? Maybe he was drinking more than we thought he was?” Ransom was reasoning with him.

“Should we check upstairs? I’ll check upstairs.” Chowder’s feet began pounding up the staircase.

“I’ll check the bathroom, Dex can check the basement, Nursey check the porch, Ransom can check the kitchen. Make sure the roof too, Chow!” Holster was dishing out orders. They were looking everywhere except where Bitty actually was.

No, no, no, no, no...Bitty’s fingers began twitching.

“Uh, I think I need to, go...over there, away, um, something--” Bitty was reaching out to gently shove past this stranger who had transitioned from uncomfortably close to actually touching, and Bitty was far from okay with that. But the man misunderstood (or simply ignored) the motion and crowded in further, pressing his chest flush with Bitty’s and dragging wet, sucking kisses down the column of Bitty’s throat. Bitty began clenching his fists, attempting to push back at the stranger, but the stranger was just a little too hefty for Bitty’s small range of motion to do much of anything.

“I have a boyfr--” Bitty was twisting his neck, trying to unlatch the leech of a human, while simultaneously pushing on the boys chest with his open palms to almost no avail. This only spurred the stranger on further.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re all...pushy. It’s sexy.” The man tried to bite at Bitty’s earlobe, and Bitty found himself whimpering in disgust, pushing harder still. The boy only laughed in his ear, pushing back harder. 

“Get. Off. Of me. I said I have a b--” Bitty was grunting out the words trying to push harder than his arms would allow, but the boy had a height and weight advantage. Just as Bitty was about to pull his trump card, a well-placed knee to the dick, the intrusive body was pulled from in front of him in a single swift movement.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jack. Bitty felt his tongue catch in his throat. Jack with his red flannel pulled tightly around his shoulders, Jack with his lips in a fury-fuelled snarl, Jack with eyes so sharp they looked like they were trying to slice the other boy in half. Jack who was supposed to be back home in Providence right now, Jack who Bitty wasn’t even expecting to see right now, not like this. 

Jack was...angry, angrier than Bitty had probably ever seen him. Jack held the stranger by his biceps, squishing them in in an uncomfortable looking way, forcing the guy onto his tiptoes with how hard Jack was gripping him.

“Hey fuck off, why don’t you. Just having a little fun, you fuckin’ shit disturber.” The drunk guy was laughing, laughing, as he spoke. Bitty feared for the stupid lumps life. The music was switched off, someone catching on to what was happening, a potential fight brewing in the corner of the main room.

“A little fun?” Jack’s voice was dangerously low-pitched. “You think kissing someone without their permission is a fucking game?” Jack’s nostrils flared. «You fucking piece of shit I swear to fu--» Jack was obviously winding up for a punch, but before he could pull his arm back to swing, Dex, Nursey, and Chowder were on him, grabbing his shoulders and arms in a tight grip to keep him from going for it. Just what he needs, one week into his NHL career and already in the news for punching a guy at a frat party. Bitty didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it rushed out of him all of sudden. Holster and Ransom rounded on the stranger and grabbed him by both his arms, respectively.

“Hey here’s an idea,” Ransom snarled. “How’s about you fuck right off.”

“Yeah, this is a consent only zone, you nasty fucker. Get the fuck out,” Holster growled.

“And stay the fuck out.” Ransom continued.

Bitty was watching as the boys promptly threw the stranger onto the porch, slamming the door behind him. In front of him, Dex, Nursey, and Chowder were easing up their grip on Jack, taking a few steps back as Jack’s face returned to its normal cloudy expression. Bitty was sheepish, he was bowing his head to avoid eye contact with anyone. It was embarrassing, everyone in the party was watching him, eyes flitting between him and Jack trying to put puzzle pieces together.

“Alright party’s fucking over, shape up and ship out, motherfuckers!” Holster and Ransom began shuffling people out and the frogs began a shakedown of the Haus for any wandering stragglers.

Bitty stood, feeling glued to his spot in the living room. It was just him and Jack now, standing in a thick silence.

“Jack I--” Bitty began.

“Let’s go upstairs, Bittle.” Jack’s voice was clipped, it was loaded with something, something Bitty could only foresee as disappointment or frustration, or maybe a mix of both. It was no secret that Bitty had had that effect on Jack in the past.

Instead of turning away immediately, Jack was waiting for Bitty to begin his ascent upstairs. Bitty kept his head down as he made his way up, Jack was following close behind, but not too much so. They boys still didn’t know about them, so Jack kept a reasonable distance. Regardless, Bitty felt a chill run up his spine, he may not have been able to feel Jack’s actual touch, but he could most certainly feel Jack’s stare burning right through him, slicing right to his core. It was a mix of both comforting and off-putting.

They climbed over the caution tape, and Bitty was reaching into his pocket for his key, sliding it into the lock and turning for the click. Jack was waiting, patiently, his expression calculatedly neutral. Bitty swallowed the lump growing in his throat.

Once beyond the threshold of his room, Bitty felt his shoulders relax; he didn’t realize they’d been hunched so tensely. Letting out a shaky sigh Bitty sat on his bed, his whole body seeming to sag with relief, the realization that he was safe and he was okay was finally starting to sink in. 

Jack stood in front of Bitty, unsure of what to do or say. Bitty felt much the same. 

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Bitty was mumbling. “I...I don’t know what I would’ve--What could’ve--I just, I’m sorry I let it get so far, I wish...I’m so stupid, I could’ve done something more. I’m so sorry.” Bitty felt his chest getting tighter as he spoke, his whole body felt like an elastic strung too tightly, ready to snap. Bitty was clenching his eyes shut, his foot tapping and his leg bobbing as his nerves wound him up further still.

“Bittle, Bitty...Eric,” Jack’s words were much closer than Bitty was expecting, he opened his eyes to see Jack on his knees in front of him, hands tentatively reaching out to rest of Bitty’s knees. “Please, please don’t be sorry.” Jack’s eyes were so sad, so full of a soft kind of sorrow that Bitty had only ever seen when Jack was wounded or heartbroken. “This isn’t your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong, you shouldn’t--Bits, you can’t blame yourself.”

“Must be tiring, having to go the extra mile for me all the damn time, I’m so...I’m so bad at everything I can’t seem to get it right ever, God dammit! I’m so--” Bitty felt himself shaking, his breath coming quicker and more shallowly, he felt his hands start to shake and his breath felt wonky in his chest. Jack reached out more firmly, gripping Bitty’s knees tightly, attempting to ground him in this moment, in reality. Bitty was trying to force his breath even but it wouldn’t cooperate. Jack folded Bitty’s hands in his, pressing them to his own chest as he took slow, even breaths. 

“Easy, breathe easy, just like this. Breathe with me, mon cher.” Jack was maintaining eye contact, the blue of his irises seeming warmer and gentler as he breathed slowly and surely. Bitty felt the tension in his neck release as he breathed slowly, he didn’t notice when he’d started crying, but he felt the tears slow to a trickle as his breath evened out and his hands stopped shaking. Jack held him like this for minutes, maybe hours, Bitty couldn’t tell. There was nothing around them, not even time itself, just Bitty, Jack, and the moon, breathing and existing together.

Jack began pressing soft kisses to Bitty’s hands, his wrists, his fingertips, slowly bringing Bitty back down to earth.

“I’m sorry I didn’t...I should’ve...” Bitty trailed off, he didn’t know how to finish that sentence, everything he thought of saying felt hollow and redundant, instead, he tangled his fingers with Jack’s. “What--what are you even doing here, anyhow?” Bitty spoke softly, not quite trusting his voice. “Lord knows I’m glad you are, but, I thought you had practice? And meetings? I thought--” Bitty paused as Jack chuckled softly, but not unkindly, pressing another flurry of kisses to Bitty’s hands.

“I do, and I did, but I figured I still had some spare time to make an appearance, I was invited after all.” Bitty’s mind wandered to the off-hand text exchange from earlier that day, though he didn’t really expect Jack to take him up on his offer. 

“It feels like it’s been forever since I saw you in person. I’ve been missing you.” Jack squeezed Bitty’s hands a little more firmly as he spoke; Jack was smiling now, a small curve, but a smile nonetheless. “I’ve missed getting to hold you, even if it can only be for a few hours. I wanted to see you, kiss you goodnight, maybe even lie with you for a while. Just wanted to be with you.” Jack always complained how bad he was with words, but what Jack was saying was like music to Bitty’s ears. Bitty felt himself start to blush all over, his cheeks feeling warm, his heart beating a little bit quicker. Jack would never know just how good he was with his words.

Bitty leaned forward to rest his forehead with Jack’s. “Oh you fool. You sappy, silly, boy, I--Thank you, is what I think I mean. Thank you, just for bein’ you.” Bitty shook his head lightly in disbelief, this boy.

Jack smiled more fully, pulling back to place a small kiss just on the tip of Bitty’s nose.

“Tourjours, mon cœur,” Bitty giggled softly, his whole body feeling lighter and calmer and oh boy was he tired.

“You should get some sleep,” Jack spoke as if he was reading Bitty’s mind. Bitty let out a yawn as a response.

Changing into one of Jack’s Falconers shirseys and a pair of thick sweatpants, Bitty slid under the covers, Jack sliding in alongside him.

“I have to leave in a few hours, and I should probably talk to the boys before I go, but I’ll stay until you fall asleep. I promise.” Jack drew a little ‘x’ over his heart with his index finger, Bitty found it hopelessly endearing.

“What will you tell ‘em? What will they...?” Bitty trailed off on another yawn.

“I’ll make something up if it comes up, don’t worry. You are, this, is more important.” Jack allowed Bitty to snuggle up right under his chin, folding his arms around him easily, rubbing small, slow circles into Bitty’s back and shoulder blades.

“Mmph...” Bitty trailed off, his mind going blank as sleep took hold. He felt so safe and warm and loved, even if the word hadn’t come up yet, maybe his heart knew something Bitty’s brain hadn’t caught onto yet. If his heart was right, which Bitty was almost certain it was, he new the feeling on his part was the same. And that was good enough for right now.