#i miss being able to start bigger projects but the house is a mostly open floor plan and it would disturb everyone

[jedi-bird]

Woke to at 2 am and just couldn't go back to sleep (too hot, too much pain, bad dreams). Wound up sitting in the kitchen sorting through the little packs of condiments we've collected over the last few years; tossed out all the old ones and cleaned the containers and counter before putting the good ones back. Did the dishes and fed the cats. Played some games on my phone. In about twenty minutes I can take my pills and eat some food and hopefully go back to sleep for a bit.

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter twelve

Chapter Twelve

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: spencers mom has a bad day at the doctor's and so spencer thinks he's going to have a bad day too but he ends up having the best day of his entire life.

talk of pregnancy, celebratory sex, oral (female receiving), grinding, no penetration, serious deep talks after sex about their most depressive episodes, sharing trauma and making sure they know the other is loved regardless of what goes on in their mind. it's a rough one so read with caution

word count: 4.5K

from the beginning <3

He was up before Amoreena, awaking for the second time that morning to the sound of his alarm, kissing Y/N on the forehead before leaving their bed, she simply laid there and watched him get ready.

Most of his clothes were here now, every time he was near his apartment he brought more and more things home with him. Because that wasn’t his home, it hadn’t been for a long time, even when he lived there it was just a trove of books and a bed he slept on occasionally.

They were probably going to move all his stuff over in the summer, after the second wedding… after the girls meet Taylor, and hopefully when Y/N’s actually pregnant and not too sick or tired to help.

“Come here,” she whispers before he can slip out of the room, “kiss your wife.”

He can’t help but smile as he bounds towards the bed, jumping in and wrapping her up in his arms. He smothers her face in kisses, making her laugh, still half asleep as she let him manhandle her.

“I love you,” he reminded her.

“We love you too,” she replied with a smile, answering for Amoreena even though she was still asleep down the hall, “don’t wake her up yet, she needs all her rest for today.”

“I’ll be quiet,” he responds with a smile, kissing her again before he finally gets out of the bed, if not he would have stayed there forever.

He tiptoes down the hall and into Amoreena’s room, kissing her sweet little forehead lightly before exiting just as quietly. It was like he was never there.

He snuck down the stairs quietly, locked the door behind himself on the way out, and took off down the driveway in his old blue Volvo amazon, paying extra attention to the path for any kitties or Rufus out on their morning strolls.

It didn’t take long for a happy day to go sour when he was in a doctor's office with his mom. Those were the worst places he could go with her, especially on a bad day. Her mind was playing tricks on her, she really didn’t like hospitals or government buildings, even lawyers' offices stressed her out.

Today she was convinced he wasn’t really her son, Spencer, and that he was actually leading her to be a government experiment. It was hard to see her struggle, especially on a day they needed to ask her serious questions while she sat still. It was the fact she had to stay awake for 24 hours that triggered the episode, the EEG requiring her mind to be deprived of sleep. It was rough, she barely knew him. They wouldn’t have the test results for a while but he already knew it wasn’t good.

He dropped her back off at the home as quickly as he could, not able to deal with the verbal abuse any longer, he didn’t even say goodbye. The woman he dropped off was his mother on the outside but not on the inside today. It was really hard to look at her and know her, but not see that same look in her eyes.

By the time he’s returning to the farm, it’s 11:45 and he’s exhausted.

He finds Y/N in the bedroom, lying in bed in just a t-shirt and her underwear, completely sound asleep with the blankets thrown off the bed. She looks so beautiful, he slips out of his clothes to match her, sliding into bed beside her and just looking at her perfect face.

He presses a kiss to her shoulder that startles her awake, “oh god, Spencer!” she places her hand on her heart as she calms down.

“Sorry,” he smiles, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in closer.

“How’s your mom?” Her tired words meet his ears and his smile dies.

“Not great, really don’t want to talk about it yet,” he was honest with her, snuggling in closer as she hummed in agreement to drop it. “How was Amoreena’s morning?”

“I told Amoreena I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t need to you to freak out in front of all the kids or cry or pass out in front of all them, but there’s a positive pregnancy test on her all about me project,” she explains it like she’s about to say it’s just Amoreena’s from 8 years ago…

He pulls back slowly, looking into her eyes as she smiles wider and wider, “you’re pregnant?”

She nods her head as her smile gets bigger and toothier, she’s wrapping her arms around him so tight it’s like he can’t breathe for multiple reasons.

“We did it, Spencer, I made you a daddy again,” the words carry from her mouth in a beautiful tune.

He’s holding her back so gently, afraid to squeeze too hard and hurt her and the tiny little life that’s starting inside her. He’s silent, overjoyed but absolutely dumbstruck at the fact it’s real. A month ago he thought about walking into traffic after work and just seeing what happened, now he was a father of 2 with a wife and a happy farm and a life that was good.

A life he deserved.

All thanks to a beautiful little girl with an interest in dinosaurs and making new friends. Amoreena was an angel sent from heaven, improving both of their lives greatly, and now they were making another.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, oh my god yes, I’m just,” he didn’t know what words to say and it was evident. “Amoreena knows?”

She nodded softly, “she now knows girl parts make eggs, boy parts make sperm, and that adults have sex but you can only make a baby at 25, she really didn’t seem to be all that interested in the science, but she’s excited to be a big sister.”

“Wow,” it all caught up to him then, he placed his hand on her stomach softly, “hi little one.”

Y/N laid back against the bed, pulling her shirt up so he could see the barely-there bump, “It’s mostly leftover’s from Amoreena, but yeah, there’s another one in there.”

He couldn’t help himself from running his hands over the curve of her stomach, thinking about Amoreena being in there once upon a time and how tiny she must have been. It was even weirder to think that a part of her was once even in him.

“It’s strange to think that I jerked off into a cup and you made the most perfect kid on earth with it… it just feels like it doesn’t add up. She’s so perfect I can’t believe she was once a part of us both,” he can’t help but let his inner monologue seep out, she didn’t mind it, she loved hearing how his mind worked.

“I can’t wait to see you holding this little one,” her hands joined his on her stomach, the shape of her forefingers and thumbs making a heart over her bare belly.

Spencer leaned in and kissed right in the middle, beside her belly button, in love with whoever was in there already.

“Amoreena had a dream last night too,” Y/N cuts into his little moment, “guess how many sisters she said she had.”

“8?” Spencer can’t help but smile.

She nods, “I don’t know what it is about this house but the good dreams always come true, who knows how many babies are in there right now.”

“I hope just one for now,” he says in all honesty, “I really want time with just one little one, you and Amoreena. A family of four for a bit and then the twins, that’s how it was in the dream.”

“Did they have names?”

“You called them Elly, Junie, tho and Cordelia, and you said there were 3 sets of twins, two after Cordelia,” he remembers it all as if he was really there, whispering all the words against her stomach, his cheek resting on the band of her underwear as he laid between her legs with his arms around her.

“Amoreena, Elizabeth, Juniper, Theodora, and Cordelia were all the options I was choosing from last time,” she says with the widest smile, “how the heck did your mind know that?”

“It felt very real, which is why I was so worried about where I was, I don’t know how I could have missed anything but now I know that part was just my anxiety,” Spencer rationalized it. “Amoreena probably had the better version of that future in her dream last night.”

“I was having a great dream before you came back,” she teases him, running her fingers through his hair as he continues to kiss her stomach.

He loops his fingers around the band of her underwear, sliding it down just low enough to really kiss where that baby of his is hiding out. She lifts her hips into the contact, letting him slip them down her legs and completely off, she spreads her legs even more.

He takes his time pressing a kiss to every single inch of her, her skin is soft, her leg hair is prickly on his hands and his cheeks but it’s nice, he rubs his face against her like a cat marking his territory as she continued to scratch his scalp.

He spread her open with two fingers, he presses a soft kiss to her clitoris and all the way down to her opening before licking a wet stripe up the sensitive skin. The moan she releases is the loudest one he’s heard on her yet, it was really the first time he’s been allowed to really enjoy her.

“It’s important for your partner to help with the stretching in the third trimester,” she teases him, “but they don’t mention anything about starting too early being a bad thing.”

“I don’t want to disrupt anything in there,” he worries aloud, letting her decide if it’s okay.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she laughed, “I don’t think you’d reach them, but if you’re really worried there are other ways to help.”

“Such as,” he asks, lowering his face back down to her wet heat, continuing to explore her with his tongue as he expects her to talk.

“You, um you can, shit, wow,” she props herself up on her elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing as she stalls for a few minutes, “just rub yourself over me, Spencer please, I want more of you.”

She grips him by his cheeks and pulls him up into a kiss, both of them rushing to push his boxers down and off his legs, she spreads her own once more so he can press against her.

His hard cock resting flat against her, rubbing back and forth as he spreads her wetness around with him. The head gliding over her clit just the right way as she held him close to her body, kissing down his neck and sucking marks all over his chest.

She was desperate for him and who was he to deprive her, so he rocked into her more, grinding down harder against her body and making her shaking lightly. It felt better, more intimate, more euphoric than any other sex he’s had, just being close to her had him on the edge faster than he expected to get there.

She’s chanting his name then, head tossed back against the pillow as she digs her fingers into his asscheeks, holding him so close to him he can feel her orgasm rush through her. She stills, bucking up into him one last time as he finishes all across her stomach.

His hands are curled around her cheeks then, holding her perfect face in his hands as he hovers over her, using everything in his power to not crush her or the baby. He’s trying so hard to steady his breathing, so is she, they just smile at each other, laughing lightly at how in love they are.

“I love you,” he says on impulse, “you’re so good to me.”

“Look at all the good you’ve given me,” she whispers, “it would be wrong for me not to love you for everything you’ve done for me, whether you were aware of it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to tell you about my depression while your cum dries between us like glue,” she laughed at how crude it sounded.

He laughs lightly too, rolling off her to see just how much of a mess they made. “Tell me in the shower?”

“Seems appropriate,” she agreed, taking his hand and following him into the bathroom.

He loved the old feel of her bathroom, the green linoleum and floral wallpaper, the pink towels and bright orange shower curtain, it was happy and bright and the perfect place to laugh for half an hour as they washed each other.

She has him pressed against the shower wall then, water trickling over them gently as she stares into his eyes, “I don’t know how to say it without it coming out really scary,” she finally resumes the conversation they were about to have in the bedroom.

“I’ve probably been in the same mental state, I’m not going to judge your method of choice,” he explains it in a way that she’ll know he really, really gets it.

“I had a few suicidal thoughts when my grandma went to chemo before I chose your sample and before I did all the hormones, I was thinking why should I stay and bring another life into my misery when I could just die first and not have to see her go through that anymore,” she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as she stops, letting him digest all the words.

“Did you try anything?” He’s not sure why he’s asking.

She shakes her head, the best no he’s ever seen in his life. “My grandma noticed on my birthday when I wasn't coming down for breakfast like normal, I was really depressed and so we went out and talked and had lunch together for the first time in forever cause she wasn't feeling sick, I’ll never forget it. It was the best and worst birthday of my life.”

“I’m the worst husband ever,” he says, taking her by surprise, “I don’t even know your birthday.”

It makes her laugh, taking her out of the sadness as she realizes he really doesn’t judge her, he gets it completely. “January 16th, 1986, three minutes after Evan,” she manages to say it with a smile.

“That’s the date Maeve died,” both of them stare at each other in shock, wondering just how many other coincidences they had out there to figure out.

“How many days after did you donate?”

“On the 19th,” he confirmed without taking a breath, “holy shit.”

“We both were suicidal on the same day,” she covers her mouth with a wet slap, laughing at the worst thing she’s ever said, it’s the shock and the emotions of everything catching up to her right then and there.

“Oh my god,” he laughs in response, both of them laughing as they hugged in the corner of her green shower. “we are fucked up.”

“Soulmate things,” she shrugged, holding him even tighter.

He wished she could see his face then, the looking that overcame him as he heard the word soulmates. She just called him her soulmate. He licks his lips, taking it all in and almost hyperventilating, she can feel the way his breathing changes as she looks up with concern.

“What?”

He shakes the thoughts out, swallowing sharply as he makes eye contact with her, “nothing.”

“No, I know that look Spencer, what did your brain say to you this time? I will go in there and kick its ass,” she pokes his forehead then, threatening his anxiety to fuck off.

“I never thought I’d get to hear someone say that to me, it’s stupid,” he felt too vulnerable suddenly, sky and closed off.

“Who hurt you?” She asks in complete curiosity, wanting to know why he can’t imagine someone loving him.

“My parents,” it slips out before he can catch it, “I love my mom. I always have to preface that, she did what she could but it was nowhere near enough. I don’t hold anything against her, I just hate that that’s how it was, that she had bad days at all because they always shine brighter in my memory than the good days.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you,” she worries this time, seeing the hurt on his face and feeling like she fucked up, he can read her micro-expressions easier than anyone else.

“I would have told you soon enough, my dad left because of my mom's illness and he made sure I knew he didn’t want me. I don’t care that he kept up with me on the internet, the fact he didn’t even care to let me know he lived 10 miles from me my whole life makes me feel sick. I was 14 point 6 miles away from Amoreena this whole time and I would give all my fucking organs to go back in time and be with her from day 1, I don’t get how he could just not love me?” The rant comes out of his mouth for the first time ever, the same thoughts that have been there building for 40 years bursting at the seam.

She reaches behind them to turn off the water then, stepping away from him while he cools down a bit, “Yeah, no I get it, I hate him too now. That's so fucked up, honey, I'm so sorry.”

It makes him huff out a laugh, “I’m sorry, you’re not my therapist you don’t have to deal with all that.”

“I’m your wife, I deal with that regardless. In sickness and in health remember?” She reminds him, “depression is just as real of an illness as cancer. I don’t want you to keep these thoughts from me. I want to know about every paper cut, every splinter, every bad thought that crosses that beautiful mind because I love you.”

“As long as you always remember that too,” he makes sure that she knows he feels the same. “Don’t keep anything from me thinking it’ll ruin the happy atmosphere of this kingdom, Amoreena would tell you that a castle is only as strong as its weakest brick. If you crack we all tumble.”

“My foundations are strong, if not Derek’s a renovator right?” She raised her eyebrows, making another joke. They were always going to be okay.

“Speaking of, how are we going to house all 12 of these children you plan on having?”

"We, smartie pants, we are having," she tosses the shower curtain out of the way then, stepping out and wrapping herself in a towel, “I was thinking we add a few more rooms, nanny and pop were always adding on to this place, it would be nice to fix it up a bit.”

“I can see if Derek wants to help, or we can find a contractor?”

“Well, Alli still has another 8 weeks till her baby comes, so you might as well do something with Derek here in that time,” she agrees with a smile, “my nanny left everything to me, so I have a decent amount saved still for whatever you guys think the house can handle, I just want it done safely, and it has to match.”

She was bossy, he loved every second of it. “Yes ma’am,” he smiles as he steps out, drying off beside her.

Y/N couldn’t stop smiling at him as she watched him fluff his curly wet hair in the mirror, “how would you like to go out and get our first kid a big sister present before the graduation?”

“We never had a chance to read on Saturday, would you want to get her a big sister book and read at the tree?” Spencer suggests, making eye contact with her reflection in the mirror, even backwards she’s beautiful.

She nods with a smile, “sounds great, daddy.”

He wraps his arms around her before she can leave the room, kissing her neck and shoulder as she squirms, trying to get away from him but failing on purpose. “Spencer, seriously we have to go.”

“Then don’t call me daddy,” he whispers in her ear, and he can physically feel the way it excites her.

“We will revisit this later,” she says with a stern look as she pulls away finally, dropping the towel on purpose as she walks towards her new closet.

She was going to be the death of him, and hopefully, that wasn’t for a long time. Hopefully, he thought right then and there, that the moment he finally does die, he dies is beside her. Happily in his sleep, as they’re in their 90’s, and in a perfect world she’d slip away with him.

“Can I ask a dumb question?” He rushes the words out, taking her up on that offer of hearing all the bad thoughts.

“Always,” she smiles.

“When we get to heaven, stay with me? Pick me instead of Stephen for the forever part?” He’s not sure why he’s crying, or why he’s thinking about it. But it’s where his mind went and she said she’d always follow.

She tilts her head to the side, dropping her shoulders as she sighs, “we can set Stephen and Maeve up with each other.”

It makes him smile, she always knew what to say. “Who knows, they could be the reason all this happened.”

She nods then, “I like the thought of that, they deserve to be happy together, I’m sure they would like each other.”

He really believed they were soulmates then, that something bigger set up all these dominoes and he was so excited to watch them fall. To see where they landed, the beautiful pattern that they would reveal. The wonderful world he was creating with her was always going to be amazing because something greater than them said so.

—

She looked more beautiful than he’s ever seen her as they rolled up to the school. She was physically glowing, her hair was perfect, her dress laid over her stomach in the right way that he could see proof she was with child, even if she called it leftovers from the last one. It was his favourite part of her, it was where she made the best person they knew.

They walked around to the back gate, hand in hand, smiling wide as they walked into the little classroom. There were balloons and streamers everywhere, they had little cupcakes all set up and all of them were in matching blue caps and gowns.

Amoreena waved at them when she saw them, not allowed to leave her seat from where they were practicing their ceremony. It was unbelievably adorable, Spencer couldn’t help but be that Dad who took a million photos on his cellphone. He was never going to miss another moment.

JJ wrapped her arm around him sneakily, startling him as she hugged him, “hello Spencer Reid, father and husband,” she teased him. “Still weird thinking of you as a dad.”

He wanted to tell her, but she’d know soon anyway once she saw the all about me project, “shit,” Y/N says from behind him as she realizes too. “Tell her.”

“We’re having another one,” Spencer whispers in JJ’s ear before she can even react.

She smacks his side as she pulls back, staring at him with her mouth wide open. The same face Henry made when he saw Y/N for the first time, completely shocked and nervous, “oh my god?”

He nodded, “we’re not telling anyone, I was supposed to find out on her all about me project but she didn’t want me to pass out in front of all the kids.”

It made JJ laugh, shrugging as she agreed with the idea, she pulled away from him and wrapped Y/N up in her arms, hugging her ever so softly. Y/N closed her eyes and pressed their cheeks together as she accepted the thank you, knowing JJ was just happy to see Spencer succeed.

She placed a hand on Y/N’s tummy before pulling away fully, “I always hoped I’d see the day where Spencer made a little genius, I still can’t believe Amoreena is his sometimes, that hasn’t really hit me yet, but this… this is real. I’m so happy for you.”

Y/N cried a little, wiping her eyes as she laughed it off, “okay, sorry this is a big day for me, my first baby is graduating, this baby is trying to grow a heartbeat, it’s all a lot.”

“I get it, believe me,” JJ agreed, placing her hand on Y/N’s lover back and holding her close to her side. Bonding in that moment, making Spencer’s heart swell.

“Where’s the cowboy?” She changed the subject, looking for Will.

“Oh there’s a case in Kentucky, I missed Henry’s graduation, so I’m here for Michaels while he’s on the case, it’s only fair,” she explained with a smile, content with how their life and relationship worked.

“Do you want to sit with us?” Y/N offered, pointing at the folding chairs, taking a seat with JJ in the front, sitting between her and Spencer so she could talk to both of them before the ceremony.

It was lovely having them become friends, his first love and the last one he'd ever have.

They passed out tissues (thank god) before the ceremony, Y/N and Spencer both using at least 5 as they watched Amoreena get her tiny scroll of paper, move the string on her hat to the other side and then wave at them. Spencer took at least 100 photos of her, unable to stop how proud he felt that he made her.

What Amoreena failed to mention was that she was chosen to be the class valedictorian, surprising them with a tiny speech at an even tinier podium. It was so cute, both Spencer and JJ recorded it to remember for later.

“My class chose me to talk to everyone because I’m the oldest, lots of my classmates like to think of me as an older sister,” she smiled right at her parents, hinting at the fact she knew when she thought Spencer didn’t yet.

So he played along, looking surprised at the word choice.

“I’ve had the best two years with all my friends in this classroom, Miss Kennedy was the nicest women they could pick to make sure we learned everything we need to before grade school starts,” her words were definitely chosen by her, possibly reworded by her teacher but definitely from her heart.

“My mom taught me the alphabet, she taught me how to spell and count, she taught me lots of things that miss Kennedy taught in here, at first it was hard being the kid who knew more, but then it was fun getting to help everyone else learn,” she continued with the most enthusiastic voice, going off-script as she thought of more. “My dad, though, he’s taught me how special our family is. How special it is to get to meet new people and learn about the world with them, I’m so glad my parents made me so I could learn with all of you these past 2 years.”

All the parents were crying, she was able to touch the hearts of everyone around her. At the age of 7, she was more well-spoken, more understanding and grateful than any of the adults in that room.

“I’ll see you all on the big kid yard next year!” She cheered, jumping up and down and clapping, all her friends rushed to the stage for a big group hug.

His little girl was so unbelievably loved, the way she deserved.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[mlmdarkfiction]

Communication

For Anonymous 

Fandom: The Boy

Pairing: Brahms/Male Reader

CW: Consensual Nonconsent Roleplay, NSFW Description: “I know you’d never hurt me,” Because he wouldn’t. Brahms was capable of hurting people. He’d hurt someone if it meant protecting you both. But he’d never hurt you. You have the utmost faith in him. Read Below: 

Soft early morning light fills the kitchen of the Heelshire Estate as you work on making pancakes for you and Brahms. He's sitting at the table reading the paper, and occasionally glancing up to look at you.

The radio is the only sound to accompany the sizzling of the pan. For once it didn't play the classics, instead it played one of the local stations that played the recent hits, Brahms had asked you for that after all. He'd said he wanted to see what he'd missed of the world while shut away, although you can tell from glancing at his expression that he doesn't seem to enjoy it much.

"What do you think of it?" You ask your partner, smiling at him. Even if Brahms doesn't enjoy it, you like it, humming a line under your breath.

He doesn't respond, and you have to hold back a bit of a laugh.

"You don't like it?"

"No." His voice is low, and deep.

Since he'd left the walls, since your relationship had developed, Brahms had almost entirely dropped his high pitch childish voice. It seemed to be entirely reserved now for moments when he's anxious, or in the incredibly rare circumstance that there's a stranger in the house.

"I think I prefer the classics." He continues.

"I'll turn it off for now then," It's a compromise. He's trying to branch out a bit.

"But I like this music, so."

You see Brahms roll his eyes childishly, but you don't bring it up since he doesn't argue with you on it.

"Here," You present a plate to Brahms. "I didn't burn it this time."

Taking your own plate you sit across from him, the pair of you begin to eat in silence.

It's Brahms who speaks up to break it, "I think I'll check the traps after breakfast."

"Mm." You hum in agreement.

Although he doesn't spend much time in the walls anymore, he's turned his old room there into an office for his dolls and any other projects he decides to work on, and lately he's had an issue with rats.

"A good idea. We don't want any more little visitors."

Brahms makes a face of disgust in agreement.

"The traps have been helping."

"Good." A soft sigh leaves your lips as you think of all the other chores you need to get today.

"I think after I do the dishes, I'll clean the bedroom and bathroom then."

It'll be a good use of both your time, you cleaning the visible parts of the house while Brahms cleans it's innards.

Brahms finishes eating before you do, and leaves his plate in the sink for you to wash before disappearing inside the walls.

You can hear him shifting and moving around out of sight.

It's quiet, you're sure it's not something Brahms is actually trying to do at this point, but more of a habit. If you didn't know what to listen for, if you didn't know he was there, you probably wouldn't hear him at all.

He hasn't left yet. He hasn't gone to check the traps yet, instead waiting to watch what you'll do.

You can feel his eyes intently watching you as you finish your own breakfast.

If Brahms is going to watch then you'll put on a show for him.

Humming under your breath you reach to turn the radio back on, a bit of music to set the mood, and gather your plates to take to the sink.

It's innocent, and playful, but you know Brahms is watching intently as you rock your hips and ass along with the music.

And exactly as planned you can feel Brahms’ eyes beginning to bore their way into your backside.

However you’re surprised to hear the scrapes and creaks from the ancient walls as Brahms moves away from you and the view.

You’re surprised. After all you expect Brahms to watch you for as long as he can, or at least until you’d finish the dishes and go onto your other chores.

And you do finish the dishes, alone, no longer feeling the invisible presence lingering with you.

It’s odd, but maybe he really is just looking forward to having a clean, rodent free office.

You don’t think about it anymore as you make your way upstairs, even as you hear movement mimicking your own.

Is it Brahms?

Is it the rats?

As much as you were used to listening for your lover, sometimes it was still hard to tell which was which, especially when the house was so quiet.

The sounds persist though.

You can still hear the shifting, the soft footsteps, and scratching as you clean the bathroom.

As you wipe down the mirror you can’t help but smile at your reflection. Without Brahms hovering around you for once you’re really able to take in your own appearance. You’re tall yourself, only three inches shorter than the 6’4 Brit, but between his height and width you just feel so much smaller.

Although you feel good about yourself, and your appearance, there’s something about seeing yourself next to Brahms that always has you feeling like you look soft, and squishy.

Huggable.

It’s not a bad thing, you think, after all Brahms seems to enjoy it quite a bit.

With the bathroom done now, you pull your long brown hair out of your face, and begin washing your hands.

You’re almost done with your chores and then…

A nap sounds good, although you’d hate to make the bed only to dirty it again.

So you don’t. You don’t make the bed, instead deciding to pick up around the bedroom. It’s already mostly clean, after all you tend to keep it that way to avoid having to do too much future cleaning later.

All you really have to do is pick up the dirty clothes from the floor and move them to the-

An unusual noise.

A loud noise.

It’s the sound of moving furniture, the scrape of wood on wood.

You stop, dropping the clothes into the hamper.

“Brahms?”

The noises stop abruptly as if startled by the sound of your voice, but…

It’s silent for a while, no response from Brahms, but eventually you begin to hear the regular sounds of shifting within the walls.

You shrug it off, he’s just busy after all, and there’s a chance the sound is just carrying, Brahms might even be too far away in the house to hear you calling for him.

Instead of worrying about the weird sounds you’d heard, you go back to finishing the last of your chores so you can finally take that nap.

Lifting the hamper into your arms you carry your and Brahms’ dirty clothes to the laundry room, humming the whole way.

Once again you become aware of the fact you’re being watched. There’s no proof, just that feeling , the all too familiar feeling of being watched.

Amused by Brahms’ continued attention you just smile as you start the load of laundry.

“I’m going to take a nap now, alright?” You ask the air, waiting patiently for a response you never get.

Brahms is just busy, you figure, likely working on something now that he’s cleaned and reset all the traps, and so you head back to the bedroom, not calling out again in fear of interrupting him.

Your awakening isn’t gentle or even natural, it’s not Brahms’ waking you with cuddles and attempts to get your attention, no it’s a sudden loud and distinct shattering sound that wakes you.

The shock of it all has your heart beating.

A nightmare?

Naturally that’s your first thought, it manages to calm you down, your heart rate and breathing return to normal only to immediately become erratic at a clear sound of something else breaking.

You could call out for Brahms but…

If it isn’t him, if there really is someone else in the house, that’d just make you a target.

A better idea would be to find Brahms yourself, and so you carefully get out of bed, listening for any sign of the intruder coming closer.

Nothing.

No more sounds.

You can’t stop the sigh of relief you give, inching your way to the door and peeking out.

The source of the sound from before is obvious now, a broken vase lays in the hallway, but there’s no intruder in sight.

Slowly.

Sloooowly you inch the door open just enough so that you can squeeze through.

You’ve only made it to steps from the bedroom door when you finally see them, the intruder, they’re standing at the bottom of the steps, clearly looking for something.

It’s a man.

The intruder is clearly a man, a man much bigger than yourself.

Other than his gender, and size there’s not much else you can make out since he’s covering his face with a black ski mask.

Fuck!

You want to curse, but you don’t, you can’t, not without risking being caught, but that’s exactly what you’re worried about.

He, whoever he is, is blocking the stairs, blocking your chance at escape.

Thinking fast, you have to after all, all it would wake is him turning to see you there, you decide to go back to the bedroom. Maybe then once you’re in there, safer and with the door locked, you could try to escape out the window.

Squeeaak.

Double fuck!

In your haste you’d forgotten about the age of the house, forgotten that if you weren’t careful the old floor boards would squeak.

And squeak they did.

Immediately you whip your head around to the stairs to see the intruder turn to face you too.

The sound of your heart pounding fills your ears, making it almost impossible to think, your next actions fueled entirely by adrenaline, fear, and fight or flight.

Instead of doing the logical thing; running into one of the upper hallways many rooms, and locking the door shut behind you while you try to find a way either outside or into the walls, you instead try dashing past him.

It’s stupid.

So stupid it works.

By the time the intruder reacts to you sprinting down the stairs and past him, all he can do is try (and fail) to grab you by the hair.

You don’t stop, you don’t look back to see if he’s following you, you can tell he’s following you.

You can hear him chasing after you, the floor making desperate noises as he runs after you.

Finally you do what you should have done to begin with.

“Brahms!”

It’s a panicked scream, not the gentle calls from before when you’d heard him in the walls.

You want Brahms to hear you, want him to save you.

“Brahms, please!”

Freedom is in sight running through the kitchen, you’ve almost made your way to the back door before-

Pain .

Sharp, searing pain spreading through your head as you’re forcibly pulled back and into the intruder.

For a moment you just pant in pain and panic, an arm firmly wrapped around your middle keeping you in place, when you go to scream out once again for Brahms the hand that had been in your hair instead goes to your mouth, roughly clamping over it.

You feel like you’re going to hyperventilate, forced to breath out your nose as the strong hand keeps your mouth covered.

“...Don’t scream.”

The man's voice is low, rough.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

He’s waiting for you to confirm, you realize after a moment of tense silence, and so you force yourself to nod despite his tight hold on your face.

“Good boy.”

The hand leaves your mouth, and so you take the opportunity to quickly breath in through your mouth, trying to calm your panicked heart.

“P-Please…”

Your voice trembles a little as you’re finally face to face with the masked assailant.

He’s so much bigger than you. You knew that before but now up close, face to face, you realize just how big of a difference it is.

You realize just how much danger you’re really in.

“I,”

The word barely leaves your mouth, throat feeling too dry to speak. He doesn’t seem to care though, like a predator watching his prey he lies in wait until you’re able to try again.

“I’ll do anything if you just...don’t hurt me. Anything, just...let me go.”

He laughs.

He just laughs.

Somehow that’s the scariest thing you think he could have responded with, and you can feel the ball of anxiety inching ever tighter in your gut before he finally speaks up.

“Anything?”

You gulp on instinct.

“Are you really sure you’re willing to do anything for me to let you go?”

Words leave you.

It’s too scary to think about what he’s going to make you do, so you decide not to, you just...turn your brain off, and you nod.

That’s all the confirmation the man needs, as he grabs you then, pulling you hard and flush against him, where you find that he himself is hard and flush.

Now you know where this is going and although you’re shocked and anxious, you feel a part of yourself exhilarated by the whole situation.

He’s grinding his cock against you steadily now, your body still forced against his own, and you can’t help but pant softly, your own body beginning to heat up in response.

You jump at the contact of rough, slightly chapped lips on your neck, a nervous moan leaving your own in surprise.

Although your attacker is wearing a mask, you can feel the hints of stubble below, all creating a familiar sensation of pleasure as he kisses all your sensitive spots, as if he knows from experience where they are.

“Ah~”

Teeth sink into your unmarred flesh with the intention to mark it, mark you, and all you can do is let the attacker have his way.

There’s no way for you to tell how long you stood like that with your attacker in the kitchen, his hard cock grinding against your own slowly hardening member, as he covers your neck in dark hickeys you’ll have no chance of covering.

Eventually.

Eventually though the other seems to grow tired of just grinding. He wants more. He wants something else.

“On your knees.”

Rough hands push you down and away.

You almost stumble as you do as you’re told, hurrying to get into position out of fear of what might happen if you disobey.

As soon as your knees connect with the kitchen's cold tile floor, you’re met with the intruder's cock.

It’s hard, the tip is shiny and red already smeared with his ever leaking precum.

Instinctually you lick your lips.

A firm hand rests on your lower back, scooting you slightly towards him, towards his dick.

Fearfully you look up at the masked man to see him look back, expectation clear on his half covered face.

“Well?” He asks, smugness dripping from his tone, “Don’t you know what to do?”

And you do, so you do it.

You take his cock into your mouth, just the head at first. The taste and smell completely dominate your senses as you lick the head clean, nursing the tip of any access pre.

Eyes slipping shut you focus on the task at hand. You don’t want to think about who the stranger who the cock in your mouth belongs to, or the strain that’s quickly becoming apparent in your own pants, no you just want to make this man cum as soon as possible.

“Ack-”

The rest of his cock enters your mouth, threatening to enter your unprepared throat as you jolt, a sudden stinging sensation going through your ass.

He’d spanked you!

Through your clothes sure, but it hurt nonetheless.

“Open your eyes,” He threatens, the first spank having only been a warning. “I want you to look at me.”

When you comply you’re met with a small kindness, those big hands that had spanked you before now soothingly rubbing at your covered ass.

“Keep sucking.” He says meeting your eyes as he reminds you of the task at hand, and you do as you’re told.

You tongue the underside of his shaft, looking up as you feel your shorts removed, followed quickly by your underwear.

The cool air makes you shiver, and a soft noise leaves your throat, vibrating the length in your throat, as your captor traces your own.

You feel his laughter, the way it rumbles through his body, before you actually hear it.

His hands are needing your ass forcing moans and other reluctant noises of pleasure adding to the rumbled vibrations to your captors cock.

Cum .

That’s all you’re thinking about.

Cum.

I have to make him cum.

I have to make him cum before-

It seems like your captor has tired of squeezing and toying with your ass as if it’s a stress ball, because the moments relief you feel as he finally stops is immediately interrupted by the feeling of a large finger tracing your rim.

A bit panicked you press against his thighs, but are only met with a forced buck into your throat before his free hand pulls you back and off his cock by your long hair.

No words come. You're too busy regaining air to your neglected lungs after that last harsh thrust in your mouth, and so you’re unable to protest as he forces you to the ground entirely.

“Huh? Wait! Oh~”

A finger, just one, is forced inside you, and you’re forced to silence, the air taken from your lungs so suddenly.

It’s a finger.

Only a finger.

But it’s so thick, thicker than your own.

The man says nothing, but you can feel the weight of his body atop your own, the rise and fall of his chest as he excitedly begins to pump his finger in and out, fucking you with it, as his cock grinds and thrusts against your thigh staining it as he leaks eagerly.

You remain breathless as a second finger is added, and already you feel so full.

“Please- Ah- Fuck-”

It’s hard to speak with thick fingers fucking into you, spreading and stretching your inner walls, making it so you’ll maybe, maybe be able to take that monster cock waiting for you.

Tears spring to your eyes at the realization that this is very much real, and when the fingers leave you, when you feel the man above you shift his weight to get into position you try to squirm away finally.

The kitchen door is there.

It’s right there.

You’re inches away from freedom, but....

The cock lines itself up with your stretched entrance, you cringe and sob expecting what’s to come and-

“Yellow.” It’s a whisper in an all to familiar voice.

Brahms voice.

Not just his voice, but his child voice.

Everything stops then, you wipe the fake tears from your face, and wiggle into a turn so that you’re facing the other man.

He lets you gently take his face into your hands, doesn’t react as you lift the ski mask.

Brahms looks unsure, nervous, and is clearly receding into himself as if he’d done something wrong.

It’s your job to assure him he hadn’t.

“What’s wrong?” The question is gentle, soft, the last thing you want is to make things worse. Gently you rub circles with your thumb against the scared part of his cheek, and he lets you, leaning into the familiar touch for comfort.

“You seemed...You seem…”

His voice is going back and forth between his own and the child voice, but you don’t rush him, you wait patiently for him to gather himself, no matter the voice he uses to express himself.

“You seemed really afraid.” He finally manages to tell you, moving to hug you, his body bent a bit so he can hide his face in your neck.

Brahms is supposed to be your protector. He doesn’t want you to be afraid or disgusted by him.

“I knew it was you,” It’s a soft explanation, your hands gently rubbing soothingly at his back.

“I was just acting,”

“You’re a good actor.” Brahms sounds almost as if he’s pouting.

It makes you laugh actually.

“Thank you but...I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’m sorry I ruined the roleplay you wanted to do…”

Ah.

He’s scared he ruined things.

“No, Brahms sweetie, it’s okay.” You squeeze him in the embrace.

“That’s why we have safewords.”

He nods lightly.

“I would never want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, okay?”

He nods again.  

Brahms seems a bit more relaxed now, at least enough that he’s stopped hiding behind his child voice.

“...Did I ruin the mood?”

“No,” A gentle smile takes your face. “You didn’t ruin the mood, but if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to continue, okay? I won’t be mad.”

There’s clear hesitation before Brahms answers you.

“Can we stop for today?”

“Of course-”

He shyly interrupts you.

“Could we just...make love instead?”

Your answer is given in the form of your lips on his.

A soft, loving kiss, and when you pull away you’re both smiling.

“Yeah, but...We have got to move to the bed, the floor is killing my back. “

It’s a painless enough move to the bedroom, although you notice Brahms has decided to don the ski mask once again, only slightly pushed up to reveal his lips.

“Hey…” You tell him softly, pulling him closer to you as you get comfortable in bed facing one another.

Before continuing you kiss him, it’s passionate, loving, you use the distraction to remove the mask entirely, throwing it to the corner of the room before running your hands through his dark curly hair.

“I love you,” Finally you continue.

“Nothing’s going to change that.”

He was keeping the mask on for you, but you want to let him know he doesn’t have to.

You love him as he is.

“I love you too.”

Another kiss.

This time initiated by Brahms himself.

He’s already hard from before, as are you, and so after the kisses, the reassurance, he wastes no time in rolling on top of you.

“Is...this alright?” He asks, lining up with your entrance, just as he had in the kitchen.

“Mhm.” You nod panting, reaching down to stroke your cock only to have your hand batted away by Brahms, who takes you into his hand himself, giving a slow stroke in time with his gentle first thrust inside you.

With your hands free thanks to Brahms you use one to pull him close, hooked around his neck as the other rubs his chest.

So big, broad, masculine, and hairy, like Brahms himself.

You love it.

Just like you love him .

He’s waiting for you to give him confirmation, that you’ve adjusted, that you’re ready for him to move.

Your hand curls against his hairy chest as you find yourself quickly wanting more.

“Move.”

It’s sudden.

“Please, more.”

Brahms doesn’t need to be told twice, although he’s still gentle at first. Gentle until you’re throwing your hips back against his, bucking into his hand.

The gentle administrations now are so different from before, downstairs, but it’s nice, no, wonderful, in its own right.

While you moan Brahms’ name and ask him for more, he grunts and pants almost silently above you, only occasionally giving you words of praise, saying that he loves you, that he loves being with you.

A kiss ends your kisses, now muffled by Brahms’ mouth as his hand strokes you, thumb rubbing the head of your cock and pushing you closer to the edge.

He hits your prostate, and that’s the end of that.

The moan that leaves your throat is eaten by the kiss, but your cum fills his hand, and stains your chest as you shudder with pleasure.

Brahms only manages a few more thrusts of his own before spilling inside of you.

You’re hot, sticky, and satisfied.

“I’ll...have to change the sheets,” You say dumbly as Brahms finally pulls out.

There’s only a few moments of noncontact as Brahms pulls out, and makes himself comfortable in bed. As soon as that’s finished he’s pulling you to him and on your side, spooning you lovingly, beard tickling the back of your neck.

All you need is to catch your breath.

After that you know there’s still things you and Brahms need to talk about.

You need to talk about what happened with the role play.

You need to make sure there’s no doubt in Brahms’ mind that you’re not mad at him.

“It’s fine,”

Brahms makes a soft noise into your neck. It’s clear he doesn’t really believe you, and so you continue.

“I just thought it would be fun, it’s not serious.” You continue, pressing your back more against him.

The whole concept of it all is kind of funny, in retrospect.

“It was just a fantasy...you know?” You feel Brahms shift before the gentle feeling of lips pressing into your shoulders and neck.

“I know you’d never hurt me,” Because he wouldn’t.

Brahms was capable of hurting people.

He’d hurt someone if it meant protecting you both.

But he’d never hurt you.

You have the utmost faith in him.

“But it’s hard to not think about, knowing you were in the walls for so long...watching.”

Brahms makes a soft hum into your neck. He still doesn’t really get it, and you can’t say you blame him, despite your best efforts to explain the kink.

“It’s not important.”

You reiterate, “I love you, and I’m not mad.”

More nuzzles into your back, and more tickles from the beard rubbing against your neck.

The affection hopefully means that Brahms is feeling better, less guilty about what he believes to be him ruining the night.  

“Safe words are there for both of us.”

Next time you’ll both be more prepared.

Maybe this happening was a good thing.

“If something was wrong, if you felt uncomfortable with it, or if I did...Or if either of us just wanted to stop...That’s why they’re there.”

“Right, but I…” “No,” You don’t let him finish whatever self depreciation he was starting with.

“Don’t start with that,” You wiggle and squirm your way into facing Brahms.

He’s bashful. It’s cute.

Although he stares back at you, you can see the color in his cheeks, and the uncertainty in his eyes.

“If things were reversed, would you be angry at me for stopping?”

His eyes widen just a little, and you see him shake his head quickly.

“Of course not…”

Even today he’d stopped because he’d truly believed your performance. He thought you were scared, or hurting, and he couldn’t continue without confirmation you were really okay.

So...naturally…

He would never be upset if you needed, or wanted to stop.

That’s kind of what makes it click in his mind, guilt dissipating.

“So you don’t hate me?” Now that he’s feeling more confident it’s asked mainly in jest, a small smile on his face.

“No, I don’t hate you.”

Getting up from the bed you offer a hand to him.

“Come on, we both need a bath.”

It’s true, you can feel cum starting to drip down your ass and onto your thighs.

Brahms nods.

Really, you don’t have to tell him twice.

He doesn’t like being dirty.

His time in the walls, before you knew he was there, before he was able to move around the house freely, shower freely, was hell.

The water begins to fill the tub as Brahms goes through the cabinets looking for something, bubbles.

You raise an eyebrow as he brings the bottle over, grinning a bit childishly.

“Bubbles?”

He nods, undeterred by your skepticism.

“Bubbles are romantic.”

That’s…

Well you can’t argue with that.

Pink liquid pours into the tub below, and the water becomes soapy, full of bubbles.

A sweet smell has begun to take over the bathroom.

“Brahms!”

Water splashes to the floor as he enters the tub, laying back, and making himself comfortable.

“What?” He doesn’t seem to mind the fact he’d just made a wet mess.

You roll your eyes.

It’s all you can do.

After all more water begins spilling from the tub as you enter yourself, getting comfortable before you’re forcibly pulled to Brahms’ chest.

“Hey!” You pout up at him. “I was comfortable.”

You’re comfortable like this too; back pressed against Brahms’ hairy chest, while his arms hold you gently but firmly.

It’s nice, you could fall asleep here like this, in a warm embrace, in warm bubbly water.

“Do you still love me?”

Brahms is resting his chin on your head, not looking at you, but straight ahead as he holds you.

The question takes you a bit by surprise, but you just lean more into his hold.

“With all my heart Brahms, with all my heart.”

[clumsyclifford]

lashton prompt: luke falling asleep on skype and ashton taking the opportunity to draw him, bonus if someone else finds the sketches before ashton shows them to luke

meghna this prompt is from almost a full calendar year ago. i am proud to report that after all this time i did in fact manage to set it in spideyverse because that’s how determined i am. more info in ao3 notes but it takes place in the summer before their senior year of high school, so after the events of everything else in spideyverse so far

read here on ao3

-

Ashton will have to thank Maya later for the tip about the Fine Arts Room. He jimmies the door handle and, as promised, the door swings opens to reveal a darkened room full of half-finished projects. They must really take the decency of humanity on faith here. Anyone could come in at any time and sabotage any of this work.

Ashton has less nefarious plans.

He sits at his usual spot but doesn’t turn any lights on; the big windows shine just enough moonlight into the room that Ashton can see the silhouettes of the furniture, and his laptop will be on in a moment anyway. Careful of the scattered pages over his workspace, he opens his computer and loads up Skype. 

Just in time for an incoming call.

Ashton fumbles with his headphones and plugs them in with one hand while he accepts the call with the other. The screen fills with Luke’s brightly-lit, highly pixelated face. Chin in his hands, elbows propped on his desk, hair a ruffled mess (from the mask, Ashton knows) �� the sight of him fills Ashton with warmth.

“Hey,” Luke says, smiling his usual cheeky smile. They’ve been texting sporadically, but seeing Luke’s face — hearing his voice — gives Ashton a fluttery feeling behind his sternum. Calum would call that anatomically impossible, but he’d do it with a smirk. “I can barely see you.”

“I’m sitting in the dark,” Ashton explains. His voice is a hushed whisper even though he knows it’s absurd to be paranoid. They’re supposed to be confined to their bunks by now, and the staff and counselors will all be asleep. The only reason he and Luke are calling now, past midnight, is because now is the only time they’re both available. “I’m in the Fine Arts Room.”

“Ooh, can I see?”

“I don’t want to turn on the lights,” Ashton says. “There are windows and stuff.”

“Are you not supposed to be there?” Luke raises an eyebrow and grins. “Ooh, is Ashton Irwin sneaking around?”

“Well, if we weren’t calling at the middle of the night, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Don’t they lock the buildings?” Luke suddenly looks concerned.

Ashton shrugs. “Maya told me that if I jiggle the handle, the door will open. She was right.”

“Go Maya,” Luke says. “I like Maya. Who’s Maya?”

“My new friend,” says Ashton. “She mostly paints. We’ve got a challenge going on about whether she’s better at drawing or I’m better at painting, since neither of us really use those mediums. Hannah — one of the other campers — is going to find something for us to both paint slash draw and then there’ll be an unofficial panel of judges. It’s pretty stupid.”

“You’re smiling a lot,” Luke says, and Ashton realizes he is. “Doesn’t sound stupid to me. You think you’re gonna win?”

“No,” Ashton says honestly. “I’m pretty awful at painting.”

“I’m sure you’re better than you think. How hard can it be?”

“That’s very rich coming from you, Mr. I-Can’t-Draw-A-House.”

“Hey, fuck off! I can draw a house, thank you very much.” Luke looks down at his desk and his focus shifts, and Ashton watches in bemused patience. As he waits, he draws a blank piece of paper towards him and grabs the nearest pencil lying around. His hands move almost unconsciously, drawing lines and curves and sketching the outline of something Ashton hasn’t quite decided on yet. Luke finally lifts his head up. “Here, see?” He holds up a piece of paper to the camera, where he’s drawn a box with an isosceles triangle on top for the roof, complete with a little chimney sticking out. “House,” Luke proudly declares. “Boom. Get fucked, Irwin.”

“I stand corrected,” Ashton chuckles. He hums. “They’ll probably just find us equally talented because painting is different from drawing and blah blah blah artsy hipster bullshit.”

“Stop dismissing the artsy hipster bullshit,” Luke says stubbornly. “I’ll have you know my boyfriend deals exclusively in artsy hipster bullshit.”

“You think my drawings are artsy hipster bullshit?”

“No, babe, I think you are artsy hipster bullshit.” Luke grins widely and then gets cut off by a yawn. Ashton bites back a very cheesy comment about how Luke should web himself up for being criminally cute.

“You know what, I’m gonna let you have that one,” he says instead. “Since I am at an artsy hipster bullshit summer camp.”

“I miss you.” Luke pouts. It’s a funny look on him. Ashton tries to imagine Spiderman pouting and completely fails. Sometimes it’s hard for him to reconcile Luke and Spiderman being the same person. That this adorable six-foot-and-change beanstalk who yawns on Skype is the same person who can do a double-backflip and land on his feet on the rooftop of any building. Ashton’s boyfriend stops crimes. What the fuck.

“I miss you too,” he says. “You seem tired.”

“I’m not tired.” Instant karma is a bitch. Luke immediately yawns again, this time much wider. “Okay, I’m a little tired,” he admits, smacking his lips like a child. “Summer break is deceptively boring. I…I run out of things to do all day, so I just kinda…keep patrolling. I might be wearing myself out.”

“Jesus, Luke, take it easy on yourself. Queens goes the entire school day without Spiderman’s protection during the school year. You can handle a break.”

“Yeah, but I might as well patrol,” Luke counters. “I have the time, and it’s not like I’m doing anything else.”

“I thought you and Michael were working on new specs for the suit.”

“It’s mostly Michael. Also, I think he’s kind of annoyed about the whole 24/7 patrol. He can’t work on the suit if I’m wearing it.”

“That is true.”

“But he’s been spending a lot of his time with Calum, anyway,” Luke says coolly. “So I figure he’s probably got other priorities.”

“Well, if you keep blowing him off to obsessively patrol the city, I can’t possibly imagine why he’s making other plans.” 

Luke stares through the camera. His shoulders slump. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Ashton chirps.

Luke sighs deeply. “You’re not here, Ash.”

Ashton purses his lips and frowns. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I’m just saying. I miss you. I wish you were here.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. He misses Luke too, more than is probably healthy. That’s what he gets, he supposes, for only having a handful of close relationships; Luke and Calum are his whole life, and not being able to hug either one of them for even a week has been pretty challenging. “But look, it’s only another week, and then I am all yours, I swear.”

“Don’t enable me,” Luke says, affronted. “You’re supposed to say things like… ‘You don’t own me’ and ‘I’m my own person’ and stuff like that.”

Ashton blinks, confused. “Uh…well, yeah, but we both already know that. I’m just saying I miss you too. But if it’s any consolation, Maya has ruthlessly mocked me for all the drawings I do of you. Like mercilessly. It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”

“That is super embarrassing,” Luke says, with a small, bashful smile. “You’re so fucking lame, Ashton.”

“Wow,” Ashton says. “You even sound like her.”

Luke giggles, which turns seamlessly into a yawn. “Hey, I came first. Maya sounds like me.”

“Luke, babe, just go to sleep,” Ashton says. “We can talk another night. Maybe one where you’re more well-rested.”

“I’m super rested,” Luke says in a monotone. “King of restedness, me.”

“Wow, I’m suddenly convinced.” Luke makes a half-hearted face at him and Ashton makes one back. The sketch under Ashton’s pencil has revealed itself to be Luke, yet again. Shocker. It really is embarrassing that Ashton defaults to drawing his boyfriend. If they ever break up, Ashton will be fucked.

“Are you drawing?” Trust Luke to notice. Although the fact that it’s taken him this long to notice means he must be slower on the uptake than usual. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because when is he not. 

“Drawing what?”

“Guess,” Ashton says dryly.

Luke gives a sleepy smile. “At least you’re predictable.”

“Luke, I’m begging you to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow or this weekend or something, okay?”

Luke yawns yet again. “Okay,” he agrees, right hand propping up his head. His eyes flutter shut and then open again. “Okay, fine.”

“And please let Michael look at your suit,” Ashton adds. “You know he’s only going to make it better.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Luke’s eyes fall shut again. It seems more out of tiredness than distress. “If I give it to him, then I can’t use it.”

Ashton’s pretty sure if Luke’s hero complex gets any bigger he’s going to have to start renting out rooms. “It’ll be two days, tops,” he says. “Take two days off.”

“I wanna wait ‘til you’re back,” Luke mumbles. “Spend ‘em with you.”

“You spend most of your time with me,” Ashton says gently. “Spend them with Michael. Hell, spend them with Cal.”

“But I want…” Luke yawns. He lists sideways a little. “I want you.”

Ashton chews his lip. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he says. “You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Luke hums absently. “‘Kay, g’night,” he slurs, but makes no gesture to hang up the call. He probably expects Ashton to end it. If Luke is as asleep as he looks right now, Ashton kind of has to.

The graphite on the sketch paper is smudging a little. Ashton glances down at the half-assed likeness of his boyfriend and has an idea.

Quietly, he grabs another blank page, moves his laptop back a little, and starts to draw.

-

They’re up bright and early the next day, and after breakfast Ashton follows a decidedly more lively Maya into the Fine Arts Room, where she takes her place diagonally from him at their table. They’re both mid-project; Ashton stacks and sets aside his scratch papers and pulls forth the drawing he’s currently working on.

“So? You talked to Luke?”

Ashton blinks and looks up at Maya. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks for the tip, I meant to say.”

“Hey, don’t thank me, thank Cupid,” Maya says airily. “I’m on the side of love, baby.”

Ashton snorts and rolls his eyes. “Let Cupid know I say thanks.”

Maya hums. “Cupid says you’re welcome.”

They’re quiet while Maya gets herself set up — she has to put all her acrylics back every evening only to set them back out every morning, another reason Ashton prefers pencils over paints — and Ashton picks up his pencil and starts to draw. 

“Is this yours?” Maya asks, peering at Ashton’s discarded stack of sketches.

“Yeah,” Ashton says without looking. “Just sketches and stuff.”

“Wait, this is so cute.” She’s leaning over the drawing on the top. Ashton glances up.

It’s Luke from last night, soundly asleep over Skype.

Ashton had ended the call after about ten minutes of silence, enough time to get the rough outlines of all the important shapes. The video quality wouldn’t have lent itself to a good sketch anyway if Ashton had been chasing authenticity, but fortunately he knows Luke’s face well enough — both from drawing it and gazing at it in real life — to pretend the call had had a crystal-clear picture. None of it is colored in, but it’s as obviously Luke as all of Ashton’s other drawings. Somehow, though, this one feels more personal.

“Did you draw this last night?”

“Uh,” Ashton says, reaching for the drawing. He shuffles it between several other papers so an innocuous collection of doodles is now at the top of the stack, and Maya clicks her tongue in disapproval.

“Hey, I was looking at that. It was cute.”

“Yeah, it’s— it’s just nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, it’s adorable,” Maya says. She fixes him with puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeeease can I see it? I won’t show anyone. I’m studying so I can kick your ass in our competition.”

Ashton sighs. “It’s just Luke. You’ve seen millions of drawings of him.”

“But those were obviously from memory,” Maya points out, taking his non-answer as an affirmative and sifting through the stack. Ashton doesn’t bother trying to stop her. It’s not like he has anything to hide — or at least not anything Maya could figure out by looking at the drawing.

And in her defense, Luke does look cute as fuck in the drawing, because he’d looked cute as fuck in real life.

“For all you know, this one is also from memory.”

“You drew the screen, Ash, it’s clearly from last night.”

“Well,” Ashton says diplomatically. Then he abandons diplomacy, because Maya has located the drawing and is grinning and aww-ing. “Well do you blame me? He fell asleep on our call. It was adorable.”

Maya giggles. “You guys are so fucking cute,” she says. “Y’know, most people would be insulted if their boyfriend fell asleep on a video call with them.”

“He’s been really busy lately,” Ashton says. “And it was the end of the call anyway.”

“One day, I will have someone to draw me when I fall asleep on our Skype calls,” Maya says wistfully. “I’m putting the vibes out into the universe so it’ll happen soon.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one drawing them,” Ashton points out. 

Maya finally sets down the Luke drawing. She dips her brush in red paint, clearly intending to put it into her work, but at Ashton’s words instead brandishes it threateningly at him. “I won’t be drawing anyone, buddy.”

Ashton laughs. “But you’d date someone who drew instead of painted?”

“At this point?” Maya sighs theatrically. “I’d date just about anyone who did anything.”

Ashton laughs again. They work quietly for a few minutes. Ashton starts shading.

“Why do you only ever draw Luke?” Maya asks. “You said you’ve been together for less than a year. Who were you drawing before then?”

Ashton shrugs. “Uh, anyone, really,” he says. “People. There are a lot of pretty interesting people at my school, and besides, I’m from the city.”

Maya snorts derisively. “You’re from Queens.”

“Queens is in the city.”

Another derisive snort. “Queens is in the city the same way using ink stamps is painting.”

“That’s not even a little bit the same thing, at all.”

“You’re not a city boy.”

“I am literally a city boy!” Maya waves him off, but Ashton ignores her. She’s from Massachusetts. She has no leg to stand on. “My point is that there are lot of interesting people near where I live, too.”

“You didn’t ever, I don’t know, draw your friends? Calum, didn’t you say he’s your best friend from home?”

“Ah, yeah,” Ashton says. “Calum. Didn’t like when I drew him.”

“What, seriously? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton says, and it’s true. “He just asked me to stop drawing him one day so I did.” He hesitates. “...Mostly. Sometimes I still do. But if you knew Calum you’d understand why. He’s extremely good-looking.”

“Of course he is,” Maya says. “Any chance he’s single and/or interested in women from several states away?”

“No to both questions,” Ashton says sympathetically. “But good try.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Maya says good-naturedly, and they lapse into silence again.

It’s broken by Maya, again. “Do you show Luke the drawings you do of him?”

That’s a complicated question. No, Ashton doesn’t actively show his drawings to Luke, but Luke usually sees them anyway. Some of them are more private; Ashton keeps the one of Luke in the Spiderman suit sans mask folded up in the bottom of his socks drawer where he’s pretty certain no one ever looks. There doesn’t seem to be a point to showing it to Luke now, so long after he’d actually done it. But for the most part he’s not hiding his art from Luke; Luke sees what he sees, notwithstanding Ashton’s intention.

“Sometimes,” Ashton says.

Maya nods at the drawing of Luke asleep on Skype. “You gonna show him that one?”

“Uh, probably not.”

“What, why? It’s so cute.”

“I don’t know, maybe because it makes me seem like a ridiculous lovesick borderline creepy idiot?”

“Guys love that,” Maya assures him. “Or so I’m told. C’mon, why hold out on him when he already knows you’re basically obsessed with drawing him?” She taps the drawing. “And when he looks this adorable?”

Ashton breathes a laugh. “You have a point.”

“I always do,” Maya says, and she flips her hair dramatically.

Maybe Michael would let Ashton draw him. That would be a nice change from always drawing Luke and never drawing Calum. Maybe Ashton could just do it and then ask Michael what he thinks. It would be nice to have new muses. Ashton has spent a lot of time on Luke; maybe it’s about time he branched out again.

“Hey,” Ashton says, struck with inspiration as he watches Maya make brushstrokes across her paper. “Can I draw you?”

“Hell yeah, go for it,” Maya says. “I’m not sitting still for you, though.”

“I’ll live,” Ashton says dryly. Maya grins and laughs. A fresh page before Ashton and a new pencil in his hand, he studies Maya’s profile carefully and then brings his pencil to the page.

-

“Did you break into the Fine Arts Room again?”

“I don’t think it’s breaking in if it’s technically unlocked,” Ashton points out.

Luke squints but evidently fails to argue with this logic. “How’s artsy hipster bullshit camp?”

“Really good,” Ashton says, cracking his knuckles. His parents have told him repeatedly that doing so will give him arthritis, but Ashton suspects that’s more of a scare tactic than a fact. At this point he doubts even rehab could get him to stop. It’s the only thing Ashton can think to do with his hands when he’s not drawing. “By the way, remember the other day when you fell asleep on our call?”

I fell asleep at the end of our call,” Luke corrects him. “We were done talking.”

“Okay, weirdo,” Ashton says, shaking his head. “Well, anyway, Maya convinced me that I should show you this because maybe you’d think it was cute, or something.” He holds up the drawing of Luke.

Luke leans closer to the camera. Anyone else might have trouble discerning what’s on the page given how dim it is around Ashton, but not Luke. Luke has super-senses. His visual acuity is, like, a thousand. (Rough estimate.)

So when Luke’s face splits into a grin, Ashton knows he’s seen exactly what’s there. “Oh my fucking God, you sap,” he says. “I thought you just hung up straightaway.” 

“Nope,” Ashton says. “I’m just saving moments. One day I’ll have enough for a flip book.”

Luke’s expression goes all mushy and heart-eyed. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, fond and endeared. “I can’t believe you’re not bored of my dumb face yet.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen your dumb face?” Ashton laughs. “It’s impossible to be bored of it.”

“Ashton,” Luke says, his eyes crinkling so much that the blue all but disappears. “I love you.”

And everything makes sense.

“I love you too,” Ashton says, struck by the realization that he does. The drawings, the midnight Skype calls, the death-defying trips around the city with only his faith in Luke to keep them afloat, the fluttery feeling — all of the colors lock into place, and Ashton can see the rainbow clear as day in front of him. He’s never been in love; of course he couldn’t tell. But there’s nothing else it could be.

“Oh, good,” Luke says timidly. “I was a little worried you wouldn’t say it back.”

Ashton glances from the drawing in his hand to the look on Luke’s face on the screen, and he cracks a crooked smile. “Then you, superhero, have not been paying attention.”

[oss-crime]

Chapter 2-Project “Ma” --Eve--; Scene 1

Original Sin Story: Crime, pages 16-21

This is the story of the beginning.

From where shall I tell?

.

--They say that the witch of the forest uses a blue spoon instead of a staff.

It was a concerning situation for Eve that this rumor was spreading amongst the Mogera.

She made her living selling fruits and mushrooms that she’d gathered in the forest.

Though she was the village chief’s daughter in the small village of Nemu, that didn’t mean she could escape from having to work.

It wasn’t all that hard in itself.

At the very least it was much better than having to stay cooped up in the village all the time, and fortunately she was never wanting for customers. The Mogera who worked in the plains that stretched from the east of the village were always looking for a meal.

The Mogera referred to those who excavated legacy pieces. They would come in and out from the twelve royal capitals, and though it was their fault that these plains were now riddled with holes, there were few who’d voice any ill-will towards the Mogera in the village.

It was an undeniable fact that the money they brought in had made the village prosperous.

Even the automated carriage that Eve was driving had been bought with that money. Technically her father owned it, but he’d never used the carriage once. The chief had ended up becoming confined to his house ever since he had injured his lower back two years ago.

That was why he had allowed Eve to use the tools for his trade in his place.

The carriage was on its way to the biggest excavation site, the luggage area packed with her harvest from the forest.

Though she called it a carriage, unlike the usual kind the main body wasn’t pulled along by horses or anything. The wheels were moved by special gears that operated by magic that Eve would let off.

Those gears were one of the legacy pieces unearthed by the Mogera. Eve had no idea how they were made, specifically, but whatever the case it was certain that this carriage was ordinarily a very expensive luxury item.

Her father told her that he’d been able to buy it relatively cheaply through some old connections of his, but even so it must have cost enough money to live idly for a year. It probably would have caused a big row if her mother were still alive.

She would have to use this carriage to save up quite a bit to make up for it.

.

“Everyooone, good to see you all. Eve Zvezda’s mobile sale cart is open for business!” Eve shouted when she’d arrived at the excavation site.

It was around lunch time, so a bunch of brawny men began to shuffle around the carriage.

The most popular item was pfifferling. Apparently it was a trend among the Mogera right now to cook these mushrooms alongside venison bought from hunters. After that was trauben. Though it wasn’t the fruit itself that sold well so much as the wine made with it. It was the village chief’s specialty.

Close by where Eve was selling her wares, some Mogera were lighting a fire to start cooking with.

At once they started tossing the ingredients they’d bought from Eve into a pot.

Eventually they filled some copper bowls with the food that they made from it; after receiving them the men then sat down on the ground and started eating.

Around then, having mostly run out of the ingredients in her luggage compartment, Eve started to pack up. When she did, a good-natured Mogera approached her and handed her a bowl with soup in it.

Sharing the bounty with her. She decided to accept it with thanks.

Ah…

Then she realized that she didn’t have a spoon.

“Oops, sorry ‘bout that. I forgot.”

The Mogera who had given her soup came back with a spoon.

“Oh, that’s alright, I actually already—” About to say that she had one on her, Eve clammed up. “…Thank you kindly,” she said instead, taking the spoon.

…Phew.

She sighed inside her mind.

She couldn’t very well show him her blue spoon.

Today as well, as the Mogera were eating a discussion bloomed regarding that “witch of the woods”.

“I hear the witch of the woods has driven off the ‘White Army’ again.”

“Serves ‘em right. Thanks to her this dig site is peaceful now.”

The white army was a savage tribe causing havoc in this area.

They all had white hair, and they could summon flames. Apparently they were originally nomads who came from the east, but after having a dispute with the “people of the forest” long ago, eventually they changed into a bandit clan…Or so Eve’s father had told her.

The white army had killed hundreds of citizens of the forest. And apparently they were also after the artifacts excavated here, and so had attacked the dig site several times before.

Whatever the case, there was no one more dangerous to the people who lived here than the white army.

The witch of the forest was a hero of righteousness who punished this white army…Or at least, that’s how the Mogera took it.

“But then, how does the witch of the forest counter the white army’s frightful arts? That Peck guy get a huge burn from the flames that those white-haired bastards let off, didn’t he? Wouldn’t be surprised if she died to those.”

“I hear that the witch of the forest uses some extreme lightning art. Rumor is she turns the white army to ashes before they can throw fire at her.”

“A battle between fire and lightning, that’s pretty badass. But if they overdo it the forest’s gonna vanish without a trace, ha ha.”

Eve finished up her soup and returned her eating utensils to the Mogera.

She’d have to get back to the village soon. …Right as she was thinking that.

She heard a loud scream from the north.

When she turned in that direction alongside the Mogera, she could see a cloud of dust in the air far away.

She heard another scream. Not just one, but many people.

“Is that…The white soldiers?”

The Mogera started to murmur.

“This is serious. Are they coming to attack us!?”

“No…That’s not it.”

The troupe of white soldiers appeared to be fighting with someone else.

They all fired upon a large silhouette at once.

“What’s that, a giant?” one of the Mogera said.

Eve replied in her mind that it was not.

That…was probably an automated carriage.

Something much bigger than the one Eve had been riding.

It was being attacked by the white army, and attempting to escape…that’s what it looked like.

I’ve gotta move!

Eve jumped into her carriage and poured magic into the crystal in the control console.

After quickly turning the carriage around as it roared to life, she raced towards the direction where the cloud of dust was forming.

“Oi, miss! Stop, it’s too dangerous!” she heard someone cry from behind her, but Eve ignored it and pushed the carriage onward.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[rainydawgradioblog]

RDR Essentials - Hip-Hop/R&B (4/21)

RDR Essentials is a weekly newsletter of alternating genres that outlines key releases of the past month, upcoming events around Seattle and happenings in the specified music genre.

Made in collaboration between Rainy Dawg DJs and the Music Director.

Releases:

Armand Hammer & The Alchemist - Haram

New York rap duo Armand Hammer have become known for their dreary, dense, and thought-provoking poetry, often paired with gloomy instrumentation and symbolic storytelling. Haram, the duo’s newest full-length album, marks billy woods and Elucid’s first collaboration with one producer for an entire record. The Alchemist lends his ear to the pair on this album, providing an eerie, haunting and emotive soundscape that still sounds like nothing the legendary producer has made in the past, pushing his own boundaries and proving that he is capable of evolution even after a career spanning two decades. Tracks like “Indian Summer” are laced with a menacing energy, while “Falling out the Sky” sounds almost summer-esque, like the sun peeking through an otherwise dark place, beginning with an abstract verse from Earl Sweatshirt, centered around mentions of the sky, space, and supernovas. This track starts a three-song run of the record’s only rap features, as well: “Wishing Bad” contains a furious verse from Curly Castro, transitioning with a more than menacing audio sample that forebodes in an echoing fashion: “There’s a lot of blood early on here”. This next track,“Chicharrones”, is one of the most fear-inducing beats the Alchemist has concocted thus far, and acts as an anger-fueled climax of the record. Quelle Chris delivers a seething verse, focusing on police brutality, not from a perspective of fear or sadness, but rather unrestrained rage, rife with references to George Orwell’s seminal Animal Farm but grounded in a clear disdain for the police. “If you off the pig/ Is you offin' pigs or offerin' figs?/ Oh, you big and bad?/ Blowin' hay and sticks, huffin' bricks” Quelle Chris chides in the chorus: “off the pig” likely refers to not eating pork as a convertee to Islam, in reference to the album’s title, “haram”, meaning “forbidden”, and the record’s stomach-churning cover art. The chorus seems to call out those who claim solidarity and yet “offer figs”, a phrase with roots in the biblical tale of Adam and Eve, who, in shame for their behavior, cover their genitals with fig leaves.

These guest features reinforce the record’s themes of drug abuse, class theory, racism, and the cultural ramifications of the “forbidden” in all its forms. Those who use the forbidden to cope, those who are able to get away with doing the forbidden, and everything in between seems to manifest within the record’s walls. As with every Armand Hammer release, however, it is the energy and poetry of these two MCs, seemingly almost psychically connected, that makes their staggeringly dense words so potent. At every turn, the two seem interlaced. Elucid brings invigoration to his verses, combined with sung choruses that sound as raw as can be, like on the solo track “Roaches Don’t Fly”, with soaring guitar riffs carrying an explosive verse (“My new name, colonizer’s can’t pronounce”) swelling to an enormous sung mantra: “You don’t gotta be here if you don’t wanna.” Elucid’s unique style of delivery often sees him, as many have noted, emphasizing unexpected syllables in his words, leaving his performances consistently engaging. Billy woods’ signature vignette-style storytelling and dry, dark humor are intact once again as well. The first verse of “Indian Summer” sees woods start a track as menacingly as one can (“I swore vengeance in the seventh grade/ Not on one man, the whole human race”), leading to a chilling tale of a man’s past in drug sales using a job cutting grass as cover, with detail to spare, painting a clear scene of “the stink of gas in the evening” and “the intoxication of counting cash in secret.” Highlight “Squeegee”, too, sees woods providing an unbelievable lesson in telling a full story in a short amount of time, chronicling a man’s attempt to turn his life around: eating healthy, working out before dawn, and barely smoking weed. Ultimately it’s all for naught, as paranoia takes over. He wonders if someone will follow him home, he wonders what his neighbors are doing, and it seems that old habits creep their way back in: ‘The taste in his mouth just like before.” It’s a chilling vignette, and undoubtedly one of woods’ best verses to date.

The album ends on an emotive high note; if “Chicharrones'' was the angry climax, “Stonefruit” is the album’s explosive and heart-wrenching finale. Elucid’s sorrowful chorus makes clear a turn inward, after an album focused so heavily on societal ills. “I don’t want to lose control” he repeats: “I’ve got so much left to undo.” Finally, billy woods delivers the album's most painful and emotive verse. Woods seemingly chronicles a rocky relationship perhaps interrupted by a sudden passing, a relationship filled with strife (“Said ‘OK’ to save face, but she never forgave”) that is yet anchored by an irrefutable love. The beautiful instrumental turns into a droning, and the euphoric emotional climax is once again drowned out by the ills it is surrounded by. This album is dense, difficult, and often a hard listen. But if one chooses to give it the attention it asks, it is more than rewarding enough, and once again proves billy woods, Elucid, and The Alchemist as three of the best artists we’ve ever seen.

- Casey Chamberlain

Kenny Mason - Angelic Hoodrat Supercut

Atlanta artist Kenny Mason is beginning to make a name for himself. After his impressive Angelic Hoodrat last year and a standout feature on Denzel Curry & Kenny Beats’ UNLOCKED 1.5 remix album, the 26 year old is back with a sequel project, Supercut, and continues to impress with his astounding mix of rock and rap. The project is a tightrope act that balances the genres, bringing trap beats, triplet flows, and bedroom guitar passages in equal measure. Rap cuts like the excellent “A+” featuring Denzel Curry see Kenny bringing technical flows and quick wit to the table, alongside standout “Much Money” which sees Freddie Gibbs making an appearance, bringing his signature swagger and Instagram-story quotables.

However, the most impressive aspects of the record are where things begin to change up, seeing Kenny swing more into rock and indie territory. “Play Ball” feels like a teenage anthem, accompanied by driving guitar riffs and bouncy drums and vocal mixing more reminiscent of a live performance at a house show than a recording booth. Opener “43”, too, immediately sets the tone, with a powerful sung chorus and heavy guitar rhythm and booming drums. Perhaps the biggest highlight, however, is the two-part “Pup”, which sees a low-key first half blend into a spacey and introspective second half. Not only is the production here at perhaps its most interesting of the record, combining gritty guitar and a pulsing trap beat, but Kenny’s songwriting stands out as well, with a strong emotive performance and personal lyrics highlighting insecurities. If there’s any critique to be had of this record, it would be that it most certainly feels like a part two of the first Angelic Hoodrat (in fact, the record’s title even makes it sound more like a deluxe than a separate album). Yet, Kenny’s style is most certainly exciting, reminiscent in equal measure of contemporaries across the musical spectrum, from Jean Dawson to JID. If refining his sound means putting out music as impressive as this, then Kenny Mason is on the right track, and is one to watch.

- Casey Chamberlain

Benny the Butcher & Harry Fraud - The Plugs I Met 2

Benny The Butcher has rocketed to heights previously unknown in the last year, with his full length project with Hit-Boy, Burden of Proof, being his biggest project yet, and seeing him steer into different sonic territory, moving away from the grimy Daringer and Alchemist production he had become known for on projects like Tana Talk 3. 2019’s The Plugs I Met was the epitome of that sound, and it’s perhaps inevitable that Benny would move past it at some point. Plugs I Met 2, however, feels like a marriage of those two sounds, sounding like a true sequel to the first project while still pushing into new territory and incorporating bigger features. There’s nothing as grimy here as the first album’s “Sunday School” or “Dirty Harry”, but tracks like “When Tony Met Sosa” and “Plug Talk” carry that same energy.

Highlights include “Overall” featuring Chinx, where the production feels like a brilliant mix of the street sounds and the lavish flashiness of Benny’s wordplay, alongside heavy drum kicks and incredibly dense production. Harry Fraud produced every track on the project, and this consistency shines. Each track sounds different from the last, but they fit neatly together. Even the tracks that tone down the energy feel just as lyrically impressive, such as “Live By It.” The features are mostly standout as well, with guest verse from 2 Chainz, Rick Hyde, and more. Overall, this is a solid project and logical sequel to the first Plugs I Met. Those who miss Benny’s grimy, TT3-era sound may be disappointed not to hear it return on every track here, but for those who remain impressed by Benny’s newfound flexibility, Plugs I Met 2 will no doubt remain a worthwhile addition to the Griselda catalog.

- Casey Chamberlain

Denzel Curry & Kenny Beats - UNLOCKED 1.5

Not content with waiting for the already-announced sequel to release, Kenny Beats and Denzel Curry return with a batch of remixes of tracks from last year’s excellent UNLOCKED with UNLOCKED 1.5. Featuring guest production and verses, this collection feels less like a full project on its own and more of a playful invitation to collaborators to make something brand new out of an already energetic album. The original UNLOCKED made clear its influence from MF DOOM, Madlib, and a host of others, seeing Kenny Beats branch out into new, cartoony territory and seeing Denzel Curry flex his lyrical prowess on a non-stop barrage of high-octane tracks. 1.5, in comparison, takes many of those rambunctious verses and places them over entirely new production. Standout “So.Incredible.pkg”, with production by the great Robert Glasper brings a jazzy and laid back energy, where Denzel still feels right at home, followed by an excellent and sly verse from Smino. “Cosmic.m4a [The Alchemist Version]” brings in the legendary producer for a brand new beat with beating drums and piano passages, alongside a vengeful, if not far too short, verse from Joey Bada$$. “Pyro” sees bouncy new production from Sango, with a witty and childlike feature from Kenny Mason. The highlight, however, has to be “DIET_” which, as the standout of the original project, with Denzel’s ferocious and guttural delivery inspired by the late DMX now enhanced by an effortless verse from Benny the Butcher, marking an unlikely but incredibly fulfilling appearance. The original UNLOCKED was a lighthearted project that showcased the talent of Denzel and Kenny Beats. 1.5, while not necessarily a fulfilling EP taken on its own, is something of a victory lap for the duo and their friends, a fun counterpart to the original project and a flexing of creative muscles.

- Casey Chamberlain

AG Club - Fuck Your Expectations PT. 1

When AG Club titled this album “Fuck Your Expectations”, they meant it. Fans, like me, who became hooked on AG Club after their debut melodic rap masterpiece Halfway Off the Porch, have been patiently awaiting a completed “Fuck Your Expectations” since its anticipated debut date in the summer of 2020. After months of waiting, with a few eclectic singles sprinkled in, AG Club decided to fuck our expectations once again by only giving fans part one, released April 2nd, with part two expected (I’m hesitant to use this word) on April 30th. Although it’s not the drop fans were expecting, it’s more than enough to tide us over. AG Club, now only composed of Jody Fontaine and Baby Boy on vocals, brings a fresh and exciting energy on this album that is more comparable to their early singles, like “Holy Shit” or “Ay, G”, than it is to their last full release. Tracks like “NOHO”, composed solely of bass and percussion, and “Columbia”, which features a blaring horn like they just brought the cavalry out, are the album’s “bangers”. AG Club hasn’t settled - they still have chips on their shoulders - and these songs prove that. To round the album out and further their pattern of genre-warping, tracks like “HOT PINK” and “A Bitch Curious” mix R&B, indie pop and rap to produce a completely new sound for the group. And just when you thought your expectations were certifiably fucked, the “A Bitch Curious” instrumental suddenly morphs into an EDM beat around three minutes in. Although it’s filled with an absurd amount of interludes for a nine track album, this project will still leave you saying: “Thank you AG Club, may I have another?”

- Charlie Darnall

BROCKHAMPTON - ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE

The visuals for BROCKHAMPTON’s latest record say a lot about it. The video for “BUZZCUT”, the album’s opener, is a glorious clusterfuck of outdated animation and strobing color. On Spotify, every song is accompanied by a video of each vocalist’s face slowly morphing into the next. The self-proclaimed boy band’s visuals, although abrasive at first, are full of depth; every scene in a video or clip has spot on color pallets, an energy that accurately mirrors the song and an attention grabbing theme. And ROADRUNNER is equally as dense. Sonically, the album can range from the aggressive, east coast rap inspired “BANKROLL” to the all acapella, gospel inspired “DEAR LORD”. Between these polar opposites, lie eleven eclectic, constantly morphing tracks. “WINDOWS” is an eerie, acoustic laced song about all the boys being “outside your window” (oh no!) Following it, however, is the accessible and breezy R&B/pop track “I’LL TAKE YOU ON” featuring the legendary Charlie Wilson. “DON’T SHOOT UP THE PARTY” contrasts a beat that could send an Ibiza nightclub into a frenzy with passionate lyrics about racial injustice and the media and government’s inability to condemn white mass shooters. In the spirit of a “new light”, BROCKHAMPTON decided to include features on this album - a first time for the boy band. In both popularity and sound, these features are equally as eclectic. Features range from industry titans, like A$AP Rocky, to smaller, indie pop artists like Baird. Amongst the album’s themes of religion, hedonism and new beginnings, you will find density, both instrumentally and lyrically. 

- Charlie Darnall

Young Stoner Life - Slime Language 2

The second installment of Young Thug’s Slime Language series is undeniably essential. Young Thug and Gunna together are arguably two of the biggest figures in rap right now. Do you have a cousin or sibling in middle or high school? What about a friend in a fraternity? I’ll bet you $100 they’ve both heard a Young Thug or Gunna song in the past week. Both these Atlanta artists have transcended your average rap fan; their songs might be on your dad’s favorite radio station. And I think they’ve realized that. Out of the many things this album succeeds in, its greatest accomplishment is playing into the popularity its creators have achieved. Features include Drake, Lil Baby, Lil Uzi Vert, Travi$ Scott, Skepta, Kid Cudi and even the controversial YNW Melly. The beats are accessible and lend themselves to millions of streams. Tracks such as “I Like” and “Trance” model the more melodic side of Travi$ Scott’s sound with a low tempo and spacey synths. “That Go!” sounds like Playboi Carti had a beat to spare after finishing Whole Lotta Red. In terms of lyrics, there isn’t much to say. Gunna and Young Thug are still two of the biggest rappers alive, they’re still quite wealthy and they’ve made sure to mention that, although their lines seem to prioritize memorability. Every song is either hard enough to make a JV basketball team go nuts, melodic enough for late night drive or bouncy enough to make your mom go “oh, this is fun!” The album plays on many established themes and styles, but I asked myself two questions after I first listened and these are the answers I came to: Is it trying to be popular? Yes. Is that necessarily a bad thing? No.

- Charlie Darnall

Upcoming Releases:

MIKE- Disco! (6/21)

New York rapper MIKE has released a steady stream of incredible, personal, and beautiful records over the past few years, and it seems he is gearing up to release another project, titled Disco! this June. The rapper’s raw delivery and soulful production has brought him to the forefront of the burgeoning abstract hip-hop scene, and projects like 2019’s Tears of Joy and the seminal May God Bless Your Hustle have garnered not only critical acclaim but a fanbase of passionate fans. The lead single for the project, “Evil Eye” provides a gorgeous sample and instrumentation and a short but sweet verse, and is a perfect taste of what is sure to be another personal and important record from one of the best rappers currently working. Disco! arrives June 21st on MIKE’s label 10k.

- Casey Chamberlain

Paris Texas - “BOY ANONYMOUS” (5/14)

Compton-based duo Paris Texas have announced their debut EP, BOY ANONYMOUS. The group has made a splash with the project’s lead singles after dropping the explosive “HEAVY METAL” earlier this year. The group mixes rock and rap, and brings a ferocious energy to their music while staying introspective. The group’s name comes from the 1984 movie of the same title, often cited as Kurt Cobain’s favorite film. The duo has released two other tracks prior to the project’s release, “FORCE OF HABIT” and “SITUATIONS.” The eight-track EP is out May 14th.

- Casey Chamberlain

[handsofdarkness]

Sharon den Adel (Within Temptation): "Emotions are the most important ingredient in music"

A few days ago we interviewed the singer of Within Temptation – Sharon den Adel. We talked with the artist from the Netherlands about what her life in the lockdown reality looks like, about her band's publishing plans and hopes for the coming months. Enjoy your reading!

The interview, which took place on January 14, 2021 was conducted by Mateusz M. Godoń via Skype.

MATEUSZ: Hi Sharon! First of all, how are you doing? How is your life during the current lockdown?

SHARON: I'm fine, thank you. Yeah, of course it's not the ideal situation, but, you know, we have to cope like everyone else. And that's just what it is.

MATEUSZ: So what do you do when you have to spend most of your time at home? Have you discovered any new passions recently or are you just developing some older ones?

SHARON: I'm mostly developing the older ones. But we've redone the whole house, for instance. So that's one of the things that I never thought I would enjoy that much. But if you are at home that much, it's nice to have something to do. So we’ve been redecorating, painting rooms and stuff like that just to keep busy, but obviously, we also devoted a lot of time to music.

MATEUSZ: Quite recently you guys have released your new single called "The Purge". Can you tell us a bit about this song? What is this piece about?

SHARON: Well, it's all about looking back on life and dealing with situations and decisions made in the past and living on – and because of dealing with it, you can live better. You know, sometimes you really need to look certain things in the eye to cope with it again and not take the burden along with you throughout the years – and it will be easier in life if you do it. And that's something that we had a lot of time for, I think, when we were in a lockdown to overthink life. Everybody's in a roller coaster, the whole year long and every year, so when there's a lockdown like this, you get a chance to re-evaluate your life itself and also directions and decisions made, of course. And that's, I think, why "The Purge" came together.

MATEUSZ: This is the second song after "Entertain You", which you are releasing as a part of series of singles. Why did you choose this form of sharing new material this time instead of waiting for a whole new album to be ready?

SHARON: Well, the first reason was to have some new songs while being on tour again, of course, when we are doing this co-headline tour with Evanescence. We felt like we've just been on tour, so it's nice to have on the new tour some new songs to surprise everybody that we don't just play the same - or more or less the same – setlist again, but we have some new songs added to it as well, which is always nice, I guess. And then of course, a lockdown came and we felt like: OK, you know what, we're just going to continue doing this and we're not going to release an album, because we don't know how long it's going to take before we get out of the lockdown again. And we need something to look forward to. And it's also an experiment in a way, and started with the fact that we wanted to present some new songs on tour. But, yeah, now it became a bigger experiment than we thought – it was going to be a longer one anyway [laughter]. But it's nice, because now we're right in the moment and that's good also, I think.

MATEUSZ: But after all, do you plan to release an album with all the singles you are now releasing in digital form? Fans still like to have all their favorite bands' songs on physical media, and I'm sure they'd love to have another release to add to their collections!

SHARON: Yeah, well, we are planning that still. It is still the plan to release eventually an album, but it will take us some time to get together and also record everything, of course. But we have enough time. Getting together is a bit of a problem – but we can do a lot already and we'll see how far we get. And you know, there's a lot of touring ahead of us when we are able to go on tour again. So that needs to come first, but of course, there will be an album eventually. But we're still going to keep on releasing some new songs here and there as long as this takes.

MATEUSZ: Not so long ago, you have created your own label. Why did you decide to do that? Does it have anything to do with trying to release songs in a different way than before?

SHARON: Yes, you know, we artists have different goals than record companies sometimes. And for us, this was very important to do it this way to try this out. And then you have to be, well, you know, on the same page with your record company, of course. And when it didn't happen, we decided to do it on our own.

MATEUSZ: Right! Not so long ago, because just two years ago, you have released your last longplay, "Resist", and it came out five years after the previous album. What it took you so long to release a follow-up to "Hydra"?

SHARON: Well, it was because of the fact that I had a little bit of writer's block. Little was a big one – and it was not just me, but I think the whole band was in a small identity crisis, I guess. In a way, it was a little like a lockdown for the band at that time. In a way, it was a little like a lockdown for the band at that time. You know, life can always be one big rollercoaster for everyone in this world – and sometimes, at a certain age, or maybe because of some problems (like in my case, because my dad got really ill), you can just have enough. I got into a vibe like I wanted to look back on life and started realizing: do I still want to do this? So I was a little bit in an emotional crisis in a way. And also together with this writer's block, I think, which was, of course, glued together, it was one big problem. Of course, it was all connected to each other. And it wasn't just me – I think a lot of them were like: OK, we've been doing this for so many years in our adult life, what else do we want to do? In the band, I'm one of the writers – not the only one, of course – but everyone was struggling to find a new direction, a new goal, a new challenge, I guess. And so I decided in the meantime that, just for therapy, I was going to write a few songs and it didn't have to be for Within Temptation. And it really opened the doorway of writing new stuff that I normally would never write and would come out of me. And so it helped me get rid of the blockage, this writer's block that I had. And I wrote a different album in the meantime. So that also took a lot of time. And releasing it was for me, a personal project that I needed to do for myself. It was called My Indigo. And yeah, and it helped us back on track with this, not just me, but I think everybody, because I also got some help from the other members. Everybody was, of course, in the same kind of ship and we were a little bit shipwrecked [laughter]. So it was, yeah, time for some cooling down and some distance, I guess. And that’s why it took us five years to come back with "Resist".

MATEUSZ: I'm glad to hear that the crisis is over or it's getting better at least. You've already mentioned this sideproject of yours, My Indigo. Do you plan to continue it and release more albums under this brand name?

SHARON: I'm only working for Within Temptation at the moment, but I hope to write someday again for My Indigo when I feel the need for it. It should be a project that is spontaneous and should come to me when I am ready for it, I guess. And at this moment, I don't have the inspiration for My Indigo. I hope I'll get it again – but it's also not always a good sign [laughter]. When I'm working for Within Temptation, I'm not working for My Indigo – and vice versa. I think I need both, probably, but at this moment I'm more in the vibe for Within Temptation.

MATEUSZ: Great! So, as you've already mentioned, last year you were planning to go on a big tour with Evanescence, but the pandemic thwarted your plans and the tour had to be postponed to fall 2021. Hopefully this tour will take place and there would be no more problems  –  but how do you envision the post-pandemic touring?

SHARON: I think people will be more fired up to hear music live! Fired up because of the fact that they're finally out of their houses, you know, everybody is out there and wants to be together again. And I think that it will bring a crazy kind of fire that will bring it to the next level. You know, people are really going to appreciate being outdoors again, not just for us, of course, not just our own shows, but every show that's going to happen after this lockdown. I think it is going to be crazy and so much fun. So I'm really looking forward to that. I'm really hoping that will happen soon.

MATEUSZ: Yeah, I understand you totally  –  I'm also looking forward to the return of concerts, because I'm a photographer during the shows here in Poland and I miss it so much!

SHARON: I can imagine! [laughter]

MATEUSZ: So do you do you miss playing live yourself?

SHARON: Yes, of course, I miss this interaction. I miss the people. I miss the crew. I miss the band, obviously! I miss everybody. The whole picture isn't complete without one or the other. So we need everyone and every single person that was involved in the past and hopefully will get on board again with this new tour, because there's also some problems ahead, I guess! Also because of the fact that you don't know if everybody is going to survive this lockdown – meaning like truck companies, the catering that we used to have... We know every each and every person almost who travels with us. You know, it's one big family – and that goes for every person who supports our team, like truck and bus drivers who travel with us from one city to another and to any country. And so you need everybody on board to be able to get this picture back in place again. And I really hope most people who'd worked for us, are still able to work for us when we start again, because everybody will start up at the same time more or less and there will be a lot of work. But you have your favorite team, of course, and they work for several people. So it’s just wondering, like, can we get the dream team together again? Hopefully they will choose us.

MATEUSZ: Yeah, sure! Let's hope that everybody would be available when this nightmare ends and there would be no more problems. So you are planning to perform in Poland again during the Worlds Collide tour. You have played here many times before. Which of those visits do you consider the most important? Do you have any special memories from here?

SHARON: Well, I love the city Cracow, because I think that's one of the most beautiful cities I've ever been to! So I like the Polish fans because they have a drive for music like no other, I guess, especially not in up north in Europe. You're very passionate people! And that's something that I love, because we feel the same passion for music when we are on stage. And it's easy to get in contact with Polish audience because they are so enthusiastic, so outgoing in their passion. And I really admire that because, you know, not every country has that. Not every people express themselves that easily. And that's really beautiful!

MATEUSZ: Thanks, that's very nice what you say! I've heard that you and your parents traveled to a lot of countries when you were a child. What did these experiences give you? Which of the places you have visited do you like to come back the most?

SHARON: Well, as a child I lived in Surinam, which and I think that's one of the most beautiful countries I've ever been to, and also in Indonesia. I've lived in so many countries, but also I've traveled to a lot of countries. But still, I like the people very much in Surinam. They were very relaxed, very sweet. They were very easy going to get to know and very loving people. So I'm hoping to come back to that country one day again. But there are so many beautiful countries as so many beautiful place on Earth. I've been to Australia, I've been to Africa. But I think it's the people you meet in a place that make you find it beautiful. And I met a lot of beautiful people in Surinam.

MATEUSZ: What you say made me want to go there one day!

SHARON: Yeah, it's a really beautiful country, with such a nice jungle and the people are just really lovely! You should definitely go there someday!

MATEUSZ: OK, I hope I will be able to! Speaking of memories of your youth – you started your career in the fashion industry. What made you finally decide to switch to music?

SHARON: Well, you know, music was always my biggest passion, and you guys from Poland know about passion, so that's always leading. So in fact, fashion was a second plan, more like I needed a job – I needed to get bread on the table, like they say here in Holland. So you need to have your priorities first. And music was always a hobby to us, because at the time that we started there wasn't a big legacy of bands that were world famous. There weren't bands that could live from their music. And so we felt like: OK, you know, let's be realistic – the kind of music that we make, you know, how many people will like it? [laughter] That's what they told us also from the start! Our parents were like: OK, come on, guys, you know, be realistic, you're never going to make it in music. And not only your parents, but everyone around us was saying: OK, what do you do in your life? You make music? Yeah, OK, but what's your job? And they did make us think. And so everybody has their degrees. Robert did a study for education, for human resource management, I had this fashion management. We also had some whiz-kid in our band, a guitar player, who was developing websites and stuff like that. So everybody had their jobs besides the band. And all of a sudden we broke through and then everything changed – we had a huge hit with "Ice Queen" in the Netherlands and Belgium, we felt like: OK, why not go for it for just for a certain time and enjoy this? Because might never come back, and this is our passion – so let's leave the job and go for it! [laughter] And so we did, and we never had to go back to the job again, luckily for us. But, you know, since then, the music industry in the Netherlands has been getting bigger and bigger also not just because of us, of course, but there was so many different kind of styles developing at the same time, like the dance scene was huge in the Netherlands, and it still is quite big. And so, you know, it's something we never thought would happen. Also, besides us, there are so many other bands who started touring and believing in the fact that might be a chance to do this for a living, you know, to have your passion as a daily thing.

MATEUSZ: All right, thanks for such a long, nice story! So as a songwriter, as a stage artist, where do you get your inspirations from? Do you have any favorite other acts whose work has influenced what kind of artist you are?

SHARON: Oh, many! You know, as a small girl, I lived in Indonesia and one day I went to a drive-in show with my parents, where I first saw the movie "Grease". And afterwards I wanted to have the record with the songs from that movie, because I fell in love with the vocals of this lady who could sing so well, whose name was Olivia Newton-John! I just wanted to sing those songs from "Grease" – and I did, for many years, on a daily basis! [laughter] I know every song from front to back and back to front. I was Olivia's fan for a long time, and also from her music I got into country music. My parents were playing a lot of Eagles and, you know... I'm sorry I forgot the question when I started to talk! This is a very big story. What was the original question? [laughter]

MATEUSZ: Where do you get your inspirations from?

SHARON: Which people inspired me, yeah! So, as I already said, I started with Olivia Newton-John, and then when I grew older, I got into Tori Amos. But I also liked Mariah Carey, for instance, very much because she was for me "the Steve Vai amongst vocalists". It may not be the type of music you would expect from me – and it is certainly not my favorite – but Mariah was the most technical singer I've ever heard in my life. And I think that for many singers, a great way to practice your vocal cords is to sing her songs. I have never taken singing lessons myself – but practicing on my own, I was always trying to get that really idiotic high notes from Mariah Carey and try to replicate it. And I drove my parents crazy, but she was one of my inspirations, more on the technical side. And I also love Janis Joplin. During the concerts, she was all over the floor and she was crying on stage. She was so emotional. She was giving all her passion to the audience, and that was so beautiful! I was inspired by her – and I was inspired by Kurt Cobain, who did the same thing, but with a heavier music. And that was my first encounter with really heavy music – because, of course, I knew Alice Cooper, but he was more pop or pop-rock to my opinion. So Nirvana was my ultimate favorite band. So different artists inspired me in different ways, but especially how they expressed themselves on stage and made me aware of the fact that emotion is maybe the most important ingredient in music. So that way, yeah, I was really inspired by all these artists in a different way, I guess.

MATEUSZ: It's not good to ask about plans right now, because we can plan anything and the pandemic would always destroy our schedules. So what can I wish you for this new year that have just recently started?

SHARON: Well, the tour will go on at least and hopefully also the festivals. But, you know, that's quite close in the year, and I'm not sure everybody will be vaccinated or there will be a plan for that yet, but I hope that at least some festivals will happen and the tour will happen in September, but it's quite far away. I just want to believe that it will be real to come back on stage, and I wish that to every band because everyone is waiting to somehow get back to normal life. And it's you know, it's for some people even more important because it's the only thing they have. So for me, the best wish is that we can be playing life again, not just for us, but for everyone, just as that would be such a beautiful gift for 2021.

MATEUSZ: Yeah. Let's hope that it would happen! So is there anything that you would like to say to your Polish fans at the end of this interview?

SHARON: Well, I really hope they will hold onto that passion of theirs and I hope that we'll see each other sooner or later. Hang in there and stay tough! And, yeah, we'll make that bonfire together when we get there!

MATEUSZ: Thanks! Thank you very much, Sharon, for this conversation. It was quite an honor to me to speak with you today. And as you've already said, I hope to meet you on tour this year in Poland to gather with all the fans and to celebrate the return of normal life.

SHARON: Yes, totally! Let's do that. Let's hold on to that picture, that's very important!

[cherry-moonlight]

Life Could Be A Dream - Chapter Two

{NOS4A2 - Charlie Manx x Reader}

{A/N} This story is pouring from my veins and it’s already the longest I've ever taken to introduce a main character but, I’m a sucker for suspense and a super slow burn these days! Thank you for all the love :3

Warnings: None this time!

Chapter Two - What's That Playin’ on the Radio?

I huddled into myself, the cold definitely getting to me, unlike the way the weather affected — or didn’t affect — me in my dream. The fresh snow crunched beneath my feet as I kept on, and I began to feel stupid for acting so rashly. At the same time, I knew it was for the better. There was no better time than the present they said, and if I stayed at that godforsaken place after that, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take myself seriously ever again. It was a fine line of empowered and guilty that I walked, but I knew I’d have to walk it nonetheless with the decision I made.

A of couple hours or so went by of wandering aimlessly up the road. I hadn’t realized how far apart things were in my little town without a car to take you there. It wasn’t snowing, but the sky looked as though it might open up with a flurry at any second. I was close to grabbing my phone and breaking down, apologizing to the woman who should’ve been apologizing to me instead when I caught sight of a large sign just beyond me.

“Carmody’s Car Carma,” I said to myself, cocking my head to one side.

I hadn’t noticed Carmody’s before, but as I came across it, I hoped they had a vending machine. My stomach growled; I hadn’t eaten all day, and with my nerves calming from the argument I had with my mother coupled with all the walking I’d done, I needed a snack and something to drink.

When I approached the sign, I turned down the tire-worn pathway right behind it, hoping that whoever owned the place would be kind enough to let me make use of whatever they had to offer.

The closer I got to what looked like a mechanics haven, a plethora of noises erupted from the building. The sound of a shrill kind of drill spinning relentlessly into a hunk of metal and a motorcycle being almost revved up and then cut over and over meshed together over a song on a static-filled radio I hadn’t heard before. I slowly made my way to the open garage door, finding it slightly amusing that they’d leave it open despite the freezing temperature. I guessed it was safer that way with the scents that wafted through the air.

A girl caught sight of me first, immediately setting down a spray can of red paint she had in her hand and picking up a towel, wiping both hands on it with a friendly grin as she walked up to me. She looked a little rough around the edges, her short brunette locks styled with bangs curled haphazardly around her face as though she’d been at work for a while, lost in the task at hand.

“Hey! You need some work done?” she asked.

“Oh.. No, I’m— I just need a vending machine or something. I’ve been.. on a walk, and I’m starved.”  The girl raised a brow, eyeing me for a moment. I’m sure I looked suspicious to some degree, but not enough for the way she carried herself then. She backed up, her stance becoming slightly defensive.

“Who sent you?”

Her voice was low and quiet, as though she was expecting my reasoning to be something grave.

Gee, I must really look insane.

“Nobody..” I began, confused about what she was thinking. “I can go, if you want,” I said then, turning to leave.

“Vic, who’s there?” I heard a male voice inquire next.

Almost immediately the girl's demeanor changed, as though she came to some kind of realization.

“Wait up,” she said to me, her voice softening. “We have a vending machine.. It doesn’t take money anymore, but I can just open it for you.”

She turned to the voice then as the man revealed himself in the garage’s entryway, holding a drill in one hand and wiping his forehead with a towel with the other. He also looked as though he’d been caught up in his work, his shirt slightly dirtied with oil and sweat on his brow.

“She just needs a vending machine,” Vic said, waving her hand for me to follow her into the shop.

He nodded his head and looked over at me with a warm grin.

“Welcome to Carmody’s Car Carma! We do the best work and have some of the best snacks in town. I’m Sir Lou Carmody, and the lady is Miss Victoria McQueen.”

He’d put on a British accent for the greeting before getting back to his work and I smiled— probably the first genuine smile I’d given in weeks.

“I’ll believe that when I taste it!” I called out jokingly as he headed back to his project. “But I’m {Y/N}, it’s nice to meet you both.”

“Call me Vic,” the girl responded then.

My hand was almost numb with the cold as I reached into my bag and grabbed my wallet. When I stepped behind Vic, she moved aside, slapping the side of the vending machine as though she were a salesman trying to push a car. The door popped right open, and she lifted her hand to stop me from offering her money.

“Your money’s no good here. No one’s used this thing in years, just don’t come complaining if you get sick,” she smiled.

Reluctantly, I slipped my wallet back into my purse and reached out for a bag of chips. Stale or not, chips never seemed to go completely bad, I thought.

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be okay. My mother’s made worse.”

“Bad cook?”

“Bad everything,” I rolled my eyes.

“I get that. Coffee?” She asked then, turning around to a small counter and holding up a pot of what smelled like fresh coffee. The scent was hardly detectable through the scent of oil and fresh paint, but it was enough to get me to say yes. Besides, I’d need the pick-me-up if I was going to keep walking.

When she poured me a cup, I held it in my hands for a moment, letting it warm my skin. I looked around the space. It seemed they were doing well, cars and their parts scattered about everywhere. A red dirt bike in the corner looked like what she must’ve been painting before I arrived. It was then that my eyes landed on a small handwritten “help wanted” sign on a pole just above a telephone that looked like its wires had been cut.

I stayed quiet for a moment, wondering why they had a phone that wasn’t working; or better yet— was stopped from working. It was off-putting, but I supposed I had no room to judge, and beggars certainly couldn’t be choosy, no matter how eerie something seemed.

“You’re looking for help?” I asked curiously, quickly ignoring the phone altogether.

The place was too close for comfort to my mother's house, but now that I was on my own, I was going to need some kind of income. They seemed like nice people, and I knew my way around a car thanks to a short lived boyfriend who helped his dad with his at-home projects a couple years back.

“Oh, that. Yeah, it’s been just the two of us here for a while. My son’s starting to miss me,” she breathed a laugh, a nervous energy almost permeating from her.

“Well, I’m kind of looking for a job right now.. No pressure,” I chirped.

She looked me over, leaning back against the counter with her own paper cup of coffee.

“You know cars? Bikes? That kinda thing? Mostly, we need someone on the phone, too.”

“Oddly enough, I do,” I said, finally bringing my cup to my lips and sipping on the hot beverage, not bringing up the destroyed phone on the pole. “And I’ve had plenty of experience on the phone. I had to do everything for my mother, from making appointments to taxes.”

I exhaled with a quiet hum, grateful for the warm drink. It warmed me up almost immediately, like fire on ice, and I couldn’t help but feel comforted by it. My day had been rough, but there was still hope. Either that, or the coffee was way too good.

After speaking to her for a while about my knowledge of mechanics, she left to speak to Lou privately. I kept my fingers crossed around my cup anxiously, hoping that maybe my day would turn around. I didn’t have a place to stay, but a job was half the battle. I could weather a few nights in the cold if it meant saving for an apartment. Or at least a long-stay motel room.

Spending the money I tucked away in the cedar chest on a room was tempting, but that was saved for a reason. I’d fallen on hard times, but unless they got harder, like Lou not agreeing to my employment, I could still save for the bigger picture. There was still hope for me. Silently, I prayed to whatever might be watching over me as I heard them murmuring to each other across the shop.

Waiting by the vending machine, I let myself relax just a bit and enjoy being out of the direct cold. The song on the radio was catchy, but had a solemn tone to it that reminded me of my life in every aspect. I listened to it, getting lost in the melody for a moment before hearing Vic walk up to me, jarring me out of my small trance.

“Welp, you’re in luck— welcome to the team!” She said, holding her hand out to me to shake it.

I gasped, jumping a bit in place as I took her hand in return, shaking it with an excitement I didn’t know I could still muster after everything earlier.

“Oh, thank you. You don’t know how much I need this right now. When do I start?”

“Bright and early tomorrow morning, we open at nine, sharp. I’ll be around to help you out, show you the ropes— but I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it quick. Lou’s always here if you need anything after, though.”

The relief I felt was unbelievable. All I had to do was figure out where to stay. I guessed I could use some of the money in my wallet for a room somewhere— The question was where. By foot, everything was so far away, and my middle-of-nowhere town wouldn’t know what a taxi or bus was from a hole in the ground.

But at the same time, I was too glad to care for the moment, sipping from my cup and exhaling quietly. Half the battle was won. Now I needed to go in and win the war with a place to stay, and I’d be on my way to some kind of normalcy, whatever that might have felt like.

Vic led me over to the front of the shop then, and I opened my bag of chips, remembering how hungry I actually was as I lightly popped one into my mouth. The song playing into the air grew louder as we approached the radio. I smiled and gestured towards the little electronic device.

“I’ve never heard the song on the radio before— what’s it called?” I asked Vic curiously, swaying my head to the melody gently.

She stopped walking, turning around to face me with a furrowed brow, concern written all over her features as she spoke.

“The radio isn’t on…”

[cozywritings]

Stitches: ch1

Summary: Transferring to a new college two years in seemed crazy, but so was being a fashion major that was being double housed in a dorm building with medical majors. Meeting Shawn was a bonus to the arrangement, and everything else that happens, well, that was just fate. 

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Explaining to people that you were going to college for fashion merchandising was always a fun conversation. You usually got weird stares or the famous question “what can you do with that?” But that’s what you wanted to to. So now here you stood, in front of your dorm hall, your final suitcase in hand as you took it all in, in it’s old beige bricked glory.

For the next two years, this was your home, and as much as you’d miss seeing your family every day, you’ve lived with them for the first 20 years of your life.

When your parents dropped you off, your mom told you “Don’t think I don’t want updates every night during dinner, especially about boys. And classes. But mostly boys.” She’s always been very pushy about you having a boyfriend. Or at least one that treated you correctly.

Since you were a transfer, luckily you didn’t have to live by the usual first year dorm rules. So while you were required to spend at least a semester in a dorm, you could choose a single room., so you were on the housing website at midnight on choosing day. Sure it was more expensive than a double occupany, but your college fund your parents set up paid for your tuition, so you got one of the lucky single rooms. Considering your odd sleeping habits, your need to listen to music while you study, and a few personal reasons,  it was really best for everyone that you had a single room. Plus, now you could binge watch Gossip Girl and Project Runway on repeat without judgement.

What you just learned, however, was that your dorm was one of the few on campus that was housed by two majors. Usually they try to keep students together by major so studying is easier, but yours wasn’t just fashion majors, you were sharing a dorm with med students. Which was an odd combination, but the biology building was on one side of the dorm and the business building was on the other, and fashion majors were required to have a business minor. So it made logical sense in terms of location.

Walking into your new room, you saw all the opportunities for decor. The walls were totally bare, the bed was light enough for you to easily move it around the room, and there was a small package of dorm safe hanging hooks on the desk in the corner, along with a list of things that you were allowed to do and what was restricted.

Dropping your suitcase to the floor, you walked over to the desk and began reading your list to see if you could get a mini fridge.however, a soft knock on your door startled you, and you dropped the paper, letting it flitter down to the carpet.

You opened the door to see a tall brunette holding out a small gift bag and giving you a really nervous smile. “Hi, I’m Emily. I live just down the hall and I, uh, wanted to drop this off.” She looked at you with big eyes as you took the bag from her and smiled. “It’s got um, some popcorn and a bottle of soda in it and a few snacks and stuff. Oh! And a few school supplies.”

She was obviously very nervous, a freshamn. Technically you were too, but you understood being 18 and trying to make friends in college. Even if your first two years where at a comminuty college. She was probably doing this to meet new people and try to find some friends.

“Hi. Thank you so much! This is actually really cute and I love Dr. Pepper, it remonds me of home. It’s really nice to meet you.” The two of you finished your introductions. You learned that she was a first year med student, and that the RA’s were showing a movie being the hall’s big study loft tonight, and that’s why she put the snack bags together.

“So I guess I’ll see you tonight?” She asked, excited to have a new friend.

“Of course! I love Pretty Woman, it’s one of my absolute favorites.” Emily squealed and clapped her hands before walking off the deliver the rest of her treats the other residents. “Oh and Emily, if you ever need anything, I’m always here. Just be sure to knock twice so I know it’s you.” Her smile got even bigger, if that was possible.

“Thank you so much! You’re so sweet. I’ll see you tonight!” After waving goodbye, you closed you door and looked around your empty room again, thanking the gods you had a whole room and bathroom to yourself. You’d never lived alone before, well technically you weren’t alone, but it was close enough.

Wondering out loud to yourself you asked. “What am I going to do in here?” You eventually decided you thought the desk would look better by the window, for a pretty view while studying, and the bed would be best on the opposite wall. Tha t would make it easier to see your tv that you’s put on your dresser. When you were able to find someone to lift that heavy thing onto it, and how you were going to move it all, you had no idea. But for now you could at least plan out where the rest of your things could go, and put up the things you knew wouldn’t be in the way of the rearranging.

Things were going along rather smoothly until you heard a loud thud against the outside of your door. Opening it carefully, a tall guy with glasses tumbled into your room. “Oh fuck! I’m so sorry I stumbled over my own two feet.” He laughed, face a bright pink in embarassment.

“Oh, no, It’s alright, are you okay?” you asked and he stood up and nodded, brushing off his jeans.

“Yeah I’m good, I just have two left feet and the world’s worst balance. I’m Kyle by the way!” He smiled, sticking out a hand. You gave him the same intro you gave to Emily, he was also a fashion merchandising major, the first one you’ve met today. “So if you need any help just come get me. I took most of the intro classes already so I can give you my notes. If you’d like.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “You’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much. Are you going to this movie thing tonight?” You asked, hoping he’d join and Emily wouldn’t be ubset that you brought an extra person.

“Yeah, who would pass up a movie night? Also it’s got pizza and snacks and it’s kinda just a greeting party. Last year’s was really cool.” You talked for a few more minutes before saying goodbye after sharing phone numbers, then you were left to get ready. This thing seemed like it would have a lot more people than you thought, so you decided to take a shower after working on your room.

A few hours later, and your bedroom was now fully put together, kind of. You made sure that your sheets where clean and your bed was freshly made with the brand new white quilt your mom got you. All of your school supplies were put away respectively, and your clothes were all put in the small dresser and closet.

After taking your shower you called your mom. “Hey sweetie. All moved in and comfy?” She asked, excited for you. She was a little bummed that she wasn’t able to stay and help you unpack, but her job was demanding, and you understood. Besides, you had to grow up eventually.

“Yeah. I just took a shower. They’re playing Pretty Woman in the loft tonight so I’m going to go watch it. It’s like I never even left home honestly. That’s probably exactly what I’d be doing tonight anyways.” She laughed, knowing how you watched this movie almost every weekend and it eventually became a family tradition on Friday nights.

“Oh honey I miss you so much already! Your room is all empty and your father is already talking about a men cave.” She groaned, already fearful of the idea.

“You’re not letting him turn my room into a man cave. That’s stupid.”

“Well duh, he’s lucky I let him put his football stuff up in the living room.”

The two of you talked for a good ten minutes before she brought up the topic of boys. “Well honey, just remember. You’re living with soon to be doctors. Imagine scoring a hot doctor. Like a McDreamy of your own!”

Your mom always watched Grey’s Anatomy with you, and you laughed at her comment. “Okay mom, I’ve gotta get ready. This thing starts in an hour and I’ve got to make sure I look worthy of a hot doctor.” Your mom put your dad on the phone to say goodbye before you hung up and turned your music on, tossing your phone onto your bed.

Your mother's words in mind, you decided to redo your makeup for the movie night. Who knows, you really might just meet someone. But you’re doubtful they’d be interested in you.

Looking yourself over in the mirror, your loose and slightly messy curls, the vintage long sleeve from your cousin, and your black jeans looked presentable enough. Slipping on your vans you grabbed your snacks from Emily and your phone and made your way to the loft.

“Hey, you came!” Emily smiled when you walked in, a group of other students sat around her on the fluffy bean bags and waved with her. Kyle was with them as well, so you made your way over to them. Most of them looked like first years, but then again, so did you.

Emily went around introducing everyone “There’s a few more I know are coming. I met them last, they were talking about coming but I just don’t know where they- oh hey!” Her smile bright as her eyes shifted to look at the new arrivals.

When you turned to look for yourself, you were expecting another freshman, maybe another girl like you, who decided to show up in something other than pyjamas.

However, the person in front of you was not definatelynot a freashman, or female. He was tall and handsome. Extremely handsome. Your fingers twitched in the need to touch the curls on his head and his eyes were the most beautiful thing you’d seen.

His jeans were probably as tight as yours, and you wanted to know what was under that beige hoodie more than anything in the world, but you were getting way ahead of yourself. You hadn’t even spoken to him yet.

“Guys, this is Shawn!” Emily announced “Actually, he lives just across the hall from you.” She said, placing a hand on your shoulder. before she bent down and whispered “he’s also a junior, like you. He’s gonna be a doctor.”

Looking back at the gorgeous man before you, you watched as he grabbed a bag of popcorn and plopped down into the beanbag next to you. “Hey, I’m Shawn. We’re neighbors right? Emily was telling me about you.”

You nodded, unable to speak. “Yeah. I live just across the hall apparently.” His eyes were so pretty, and his smile was unlike anything you’d ever seen. I was almost impossible to not smile with him.

“Yeah I saw you moving in earlier. If you need any help rearranging the room just come ask. I usually study in my room anyways so I’m almost always there.” You nodded, making a mental note to ask him to help you move the tv as well

“How did you know I was thinking about rearranging the room?” You questioned, stealing a few pieces popcorn from the bag that he’d tilted towards you as an offering.

He just shrugged, ���When I first moved in I wanted to do it too. I thought the desk would look better by the door, that way I could put my bed by the window so I could look out over the courtyard. Plus the sun in my face really wakes me up” he let out a soft chuckle. It was almost like everything about him was enchanting.

Smirking a little you popped the popcorn into your mouth before speaking again. “I’m going to have to take you up on that offer. I was actually going to rearrange today until I realized I needed some help. So I’m assuming you’re in a single room as well?” He nodded, grabbing a slice of pizza and a water bottle.

“Yeah I got lucky since I’m a junior but also real close to graduating next year with my program internship. l want to specialise in Pediatric Surgery.” You looked over at him in shock. There was no way he was already about to graduate, especially in a field like that. This was a man after your heart. “I know I know, I’m young. But in my 11th and 12th year I ended up at a special center for Medical studies so I got started early. I’m hoping to get into a residency soon, and wow I am talking about myself a lot. What about you?”

You smiled, giving him an earful himself of your love for fashion and how you hoped to one day work in New York, LA or even Paris or Milan. What surprised you was how interested he seemed. It was like he actually cared about what you were telling him as opposed to being obligated to listen to you drone on and on about trends and the color patterns for next fall.

“So, I was thinking tomorrow about going around campus and just finding where everything is. Are there any suggestions for the perfect studying spot? Or where to get the best foor or decaf coffee?” He swallowed his mouth full of pizza before answering.

“I’ll one up you. I’ll show them to you myself.” Before you could say anything else, a dorm adviser announced that they were about to start the movie and the lights went out as the opening credits rolled. When you felt a nudge on your shoulder, you looked over to see Shawn offering you a blanket from the backpack he brought with him, noticing your slight shaking due to the temperature of the room. You didn’t even realise how cold you were until you wrapped it around yourself, whispering a small “Thank you.” You finally situated yourself into the fuzzy bean bag, snuggling into the blue fleece.

You took a deep breath to relax and had to stop yourself from humming at the smell of cologne that lingered on the fabric. It had a nice sandalwood scent mixed with a bit of vanilla and you had to keep from audibly moaning at the smell. So instead you focused on the movie, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth. Trying to ignore the literal greek god only 6 inches from you on the grey bean bag was nearly impossible, especially since he kept looking over at you.

It was almost midnight when the movie ended, half of the dorm had fallen asleep on the floor, Emily and a few others in the group included. The rest had left right at the end of the movie to sleep in their own beds. To be honest, you weren’t far behind, but there was no way you were getting up, you were wrapped up in this blanket, Shawn falling asleep on your shoulder. You didn’t have to heart to wake him.

Technically you didn’t have classes for another week, so thankfully someone decided to start another movie. It would’ve been boring to try to fall asleep to the main menu repeating over and over until someone decided to turn it off. You smiled as the beginning music of The Great Gatsby filled the large study room. The DiCaprio version would always be the better. So you settled back into the bean bag chair, wrapping yourself tighter into the blanket, deciding to fight sleep in favor of another one of your favorite movies.

Right when Nick walks into the parlor where Jordan and Daisy are lounging, Shawn rolled over in his sleep. At first it was fine, that is, until he kept rolling and ended up halfway on top of you. His head on your shoulder and his arm draped across you, his leg curled up on top of yours as he got comfortable.

You thought about waking him or moving him off, but he looked too peaceful. Too cute. And his body heat mixed with the blanket was keeping you comfortably warm. So you let him stay there, it wasn’t like he was hurting anything.

Throughout the movie, Shawn would move slightly closer. Obviously it wasn’t on purpose, and at one point, Cheryl, another girl you’d met earlier in the night, woke up and offered to help you get out from under him. She said her girlfriend likes to cuddle so  she got really good at sneaking away since she likes to be at the gym by 5am.

“No thanks, I’m pretty comfortable and I wanna finish this movie. But thank you.” She smiled down at you, bidding you a goodnight.

“You just want to bask in the glory of the hot doctor in training sleeping on you.” She whispered, pointing a perfectly manicured nail at you.

Laughing softly, you looked up at her before shifting your eyes back down to Shawn. “You got me. Now go to sleep. You’ve gotta be up early for the gym tomorrow.”

With a laugh and a wave, she walked off, leaving only you and a few others awake to finish the movie. But that suited you just fine. No one to ask questions because they were lost due to their negligence of reading the book.

As the movie came to an end, so did your energy and willpower to stay awake. Looking down at the boy asleep on you and the room full of college students who would probably hate themselves for falling asleep on the floor, you closed your eyes. Joining the rest of the group in slumber, waiting for the aftermath in the morning.

[randomoranges]

Paint Job

 mid-ish november 2020

Edward finally gets home late, towards the end of the day. Had he known he’d been out this long, he would have asked Étienne to get a start on dinner, but now, they’ll have to figure something out on the fly. He had errands to run which took longer than expected and he’s honestly just glad to be home. He shucks his boots in time to Mercury’s greeting and doesn’t catch from where she came from. The house is quiet, he can tell that much, but it can mean a myriad of things. He’d left Étienne still curled up under layers of blankets in bed and had it not been for the classes Étienne was giving, he would have dragged his boyfriend along, if nothing but for the change of scenery. That, or he would have stayed in bed longer and indulged in a late morning with his boyfriend.

 Mercury wags her tail excitedly and keeps watch as Edward removes his coat and scarf and then follows him to the kitchen table where he puts down his bags loaded with goodies of all sorts. Edward takes the few minutes he needs to unload the groceries and when Mercury doesn’t vie for his attention, he figures it means Étienne is in no need of his immediate attention.

 When he’s done, he gives her a treat for no particular reason, but she doesn’t seem to mind, nor does she complain. He watches her for a moment, amused and fond of her antics and then decides it’s about time he find the owner of the dog. Mercury looks up and as if reading his mind, takes the lead and heads towards the guestroom. Edward follows behind and he’s about to throw a greeting in his boyfriend’s direction, but then lets the words stumble to a halt at his lips.

 The scene before him requires no interruption, if only for its rare occurrence. Étienne is at the wooden easel he’d made him, sat in front of it, and deep in concentration as he paints. He has earphones on, which would explain why he hasn’t looked away and he seems to be submerged in the painting he’s working on. Edward can’t say that Étienne looks as peaceful and happy as he’s already seen him while he painted, but it’s a better look than what’s been playing on Étienne’s features ever since his return.

 Edward has always enjoyed watching Étienne paint, even if he hadn’t always been privy to the spectacle. There’d been something exalting in the way Étienne painted, from the deep concentration etched on his face, to the peaceful smile dangling from his lips and the way he seemed to involve his entire body in the motion. Watching Étienne paint was an experience and Edward could get lost watching him as much as he did appreciating the final work.

 Étienne’s paintings were always bold and loud as if calling for attention and catching someone’s gaze – holding it there, screaming look at me! It was impossible to look away from the movement in the brushstrokes and the thick, bold lines that danced across the canvas in a multitude of colours. Étienne’s paintings were never quiet or subtle – they seized you from the inside and Edward loved the way he felt experiencing the work – the way he was left slightly out of breath as if submerged in deep water for a long while and finally coming back up for air.

 Edward liked watching the evolution of Étienne’s paintings – the assurance he’s gotten in his brushstrokes and lines- the risks he takes in his choice of colours and the movement he creates with them on the canvas. It’s been a fascinating journey and he’s only sorry he’s missed part of it. Still, he consoles himself with the few paintings he’s managed to save over the years – from the ones he quietly brought back that Étienne was ready to throw out, to the ones Étienne had told him he could take, since he didn’t care for them anymore. Edward has lovingly looked after them over all these years and likes putting them side by side with the newer works Étienne has gifted him; from the triptych a few years back to a more recent piece just last year.

 Perhaps, with time, he’ll be able to host his own retrospective of Étienne’s works. (And it doesn’t matter what it is Étienne thinks of his own body of work. Edward might not be as well versed in art as Étienne, but he can tell that Étienne is good at it. He needs to stop selling himself so short.)

 Étienne is still tense around the shoulders and there’s still an edge to the set of his brow and the intensity of his gaze, but even if his movements across the canvas are harsh and jerky, it’s a step forward from whatever state he’d been in a few weeks back. It’s a reprieve from the sleepless nights and the catatonic days; the mornings when Edward hadn’t been able to get Étienne out of bed and the times when he’d barely eaten a thing – the classes Étienne cancelled and the walks he never took Mercury on. Edward hadn’t dealt with this side of his boyfriend in ages and the setback had stunned him. Still, it had been better than the anger that had come afterwards.

 That, had been new.

 Étienne’s anger at the state of things, at his perceived helplessness and feelings of uselessness had culminated in some rather harsh words that had been exchanged which had honestly made Edward question what he had embarked himself in. Had made him wonder if – this was even – if maybe it hadn’t been rushed. If he hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew.

 “I don’t need your fucking pity, Edward. I’m not a charity project.” Étienne had shouted at him one night, after Edward had asked if he needed anything.

 It had been the final straw. Edward had been sick and tired of being treated like garbage and he lashed out just as good. He wasn’t here to fall back on old ways. He wasn’t here to get used and abused by Étienne’s moods. He wasn’t going to accept this anymore. “You know, it’s a good thing I know this isn’t really you talking. That it’s whatever’s going on in that head of yours that’s making you act this way, but that doesn’t fucking excuse you. I’ve never pitied you and just because I give a fuck about you doesn’t mean that you get to treat me like shit.”

 Étienne had come after him, trying to get a bigger rise out of him, but Edward knew better and had walked away. They’d been making good progress, it would be a shame to throw it all away after losing so many years. It wasn’t worth it to get tangled up in the ugly bits again. Once had been enough.

 Still.

 It turned into a tense few days and the only saving grace was the video appointment Étienne had with his therapist. Amends had been made, better coping strategies had been found. Edward was only glad that whatever violent turn Étienne’s mood had taken was slowly ebbing back into a quiet simmer.

 There’d been an apology, naturally. Quiet words shared between them in the dark of night.

 “I’m sorry,” Étienne had started, reaching between the space of their bodies and hesitating for a moment, unsure whether or not it would be okay to take hold of Edward’s hands.

 “What for?” He’d asked, leaving his hand palm up, open and inviting for Étienne to take. His boyfriend had seized it like a lifeline, clutching at it as if his life depended on it. He didn’t want empty apologies; he deserved that much.

 “For being a right old jerk.”

 Edward had cracked a small smile at that, “Yeah, you have been. What of it?”

 “For lashing out at you. You’ve been – really good to me. Tolerant and helpful and patient. You didn’t deserve all of that. I am trying to keep it under control.”

 Edward knew all of that. It was why he had walked away. It was why he hadn’t decided to call it quits. He knew Étienne was really trying. Was getting the help he needed. He couldn’t fault him for what plagued him. He knew Étienne would rather function like a regular person instead of the assault his moods put him through.

 “Apology accepted.” To show that he meant it and that they were good, he’d opened his arms and let Étienne snuggle up to him. He’d held him close, rubbed his back, and wished that this storm would pass.

 The storm is passing, even if there are still a few lingering rain clouds left. This whole pandemic has taken its toll on Étienne, has left him ragged and raw and frayed at the edges, and Edward gets to see the damages left on his boyfriend day in and day out. Still, he thinks, he’d rather have a row with Étienne than let him slowly wither away back home alone.

 Mercury gives him away when she barks, perhaps bored that her master has not noticed the guest at the door and so Étienne finally looks away from his work and turns towards him. A smile, soft and gentle, blossoms on his face when he sees him and Edward consoles himself with the knowledge that there’s still this – that Étienne looks at him with such open fondness and care – that every day he lets his guard down just a smidgen more.

 “Hi Eddy.” Étienne removes the ear buds and Edward gets a whiff of jazz music coming from them. It’s a little different from what Étienne’s known to listen – grittier and angrier – fast paced and a mixture of notes fighting to be heard, but he supposes it fits with Étienne’s latest mood.

 Edward walks over to the easel and Étienne stands from the chair he’d been using. He’s wearing the rattiest most stained sweater Edward’s ever seen and a pair of sweat pants that may have once been black, but are now mostly multicoloured and still Edward thinks Étienne looks as lovely as always. He tugs him close, pulls him gently by the sleeve, until Étienne comes willingly in his embrace.

 “Careful, I might be full of paint,” Étienne warns, but Edward doesn’t care. He’s just happy Étienne looks a little bit better – that he seems to be on the mend – that he’s participating in life again.

 “I don’t know how you do it – but you have paint on your eyebrow,” He chuckles and Étienne looks up, as if he could see the paint and Edward wants more of this for his boyfriend. More of these innocent, silly moments when his guard is down and he doesn’t look haunted with the ghosts of his loneliness.

 “Errands go okay?” Étienne let’s Edward hold him, checks to make sure there isn’t any wet paint on his clothes and then molds himself to Edward’s body, making himself comfortable.

 “Not too bad. Good to be home though.”

 Étienne makes a humming noise at the back of his throat that could be agreement to Edward’s statement, but for all Edward knows, it could simply be Étienne letting him know that he’s comfortable and cozy.

 “Missed you today,” He finally says and looks up to catch Edward’s hazel gaze. The green of Étienne’s eyes is easier to see without his glasses in the way and Edward’s heart beats just a little faster. These are the moments that matter, he thinks – these quiet little exchanges that warm him up despite the cold outside.

 “Home now,” He reiterates, his voice a little thick with the moment and the emotions swimming inside his head. Étienne offers him another smile for his trouble and wiggles out of his embrace to sit back on the chair. He pulls Edward along with him and so Edward finds himself sitting on his boyfriend’s lap. Étienne holds him close, head on his chest, content little smile playing on his lips, and Edward leans in and let’s himself be held.

 He finally gets a good look at the painting and marvels at the intensity of it, as well as the dizzying display of figures and lines. It’s very loud, he thinks, and raw. It’s a little different from what Étienne usually does, but Edward believes he knows why.

 “It’s not much – but, it helps.” Étienne offers as an explanation.

 “I like it.” He does. He always means it, when he says he likes one of Étienne’s paintings. He likes the way they make him feel. From the raw emotions to the dizzying movement and everything in between. Étienne communicates in brushstrokes and white canvases he fills with his own essence and being and Edward is only glad he gets to read and interpret the messages once more.

 He wonders, and not for the first time, if all of Étienne’s paintings hadn’t always been a little bit autobiographical. That if he were to put them all side by side they would tell the great story of Étienne Maisonneuve. Of his triumphs and downfalls. Of misery and victory.

 “You always say that,” Étienne admonishes softly, but he still looks a little pink in the cheeks and slightly pleased by the compliment. “Thank you,” He ads and furrows his face back into Edward’s chest, where it’s perfectly ensconced in the folds of his clothing; where he’s safe and loved.

 FIN

[megalony]

A big family- Part 7

This is the latest part in my dad! Ben Hardy series which I hope you are all enjoying so far.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms

Series taglist: @writeroutoftime @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @hardzzellos

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have three daughters together with their youngest not even being one year old yet. But their family is about to get bigger when they find out they’re pregnant again.

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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"Is this what you want?" (Y/n) spoke gently as she held out the small bunny toy that was sewn onto a small blanket. As soon as she shook the toy in her hand, Goldie's eyes brightened up as if they had stars captured in them.

The youngest girl wasn't quite walking yet but she was doing her best to try. She managed to push herself up onto her feet but very quickly flopped back down to her knees again. She didn't seem to want to waste any time as she didn't bother trying to walk again, she simply crawled over to where (Y/n) was and tugged on the toy until it was in her hand.

Goldie shuffled until she was sitting on the kitchen floor with her small legs stretched out in front of her and her toy cradled to her chest. Her big bright eyes looked up at (Y/n) as she started to chew on the toy before realising that it wasn't helping with her new teeth that were beginning to poke through her gums. (Y/n) had only just got Goldie to stop wailing from the pain but now the toy seemed to have irritated her sore gums again.

(Y/n) couldn't give her any more medicine and she had tried giving her a cold teething ring but Goldie had thrown it away.

"No, no baby don't cry, please." (Y/n) begged when Goldie started to whine around the toy she was trying to stuff into her mouth. Her eyes began to flood with tears as she tipped her head down, sniffing before a loud sob escaped her lips.

Pressing her hand to the counter, (Y/n) slowly kneeled down on the floor in front of Goldie. She gently moved the toy so she could check Goldie's gums before she shuffled the toddler close and wrapped her arms around her. (Y/n) was still on bed rest but she had to come downstairs because her back was simply hurting from the lack of movement. But it also meant she couldn't keep picking Goldie up and setting her down because lifting or holding Goldie or anything heavy could make the abruption worse.

Days like today weren't as easy as (Y/n) would like.

All she wanted to do was to be able to move and do everything she could before but her actions were limited. She could get out of bed and go to the bathroom or have a walk around the house so she didn't go stiff but there was little else she could do. The nurse wanted her to be as immobile as she could and (Y/n) didn't want to but she was complying because she had to.

It hurt (Y/n) worse that she couldn't pick Goldie up or see to her when she woke up during the night. She could only hold and cuddle Goldie like this or when she was in bed.

(Y/n) kept one arm around Goldie who was tucked into her side as she reached out and grabbed hold of the wash basket with her other hand and dragged it over to her. She leaned herself up against the island in the kitchen before starting to take the clothes out of the dryer, folding them before setting them into the washing basket. This was at least something that (Y/n) could do that wasn't strenuous or heavy lifting.

After a while, (Y/n) turned to look at Goldie before she gently slipped her hands under Goldie's arms to tug the youngest girl to her feet. She wasn't technically lifting Goldie up, she was just holding her. Tears were still building up in Goldie's eyes as she chewed on her toy which (Y/n) knew was going to aggravate her gums rather than relieve the pain from them but Goldie wasn't going to give up the toy now.

She gently pulled Goldie closer before letting her youngest girl sit on her leg and cuddle as close as she could manage with the baby bump in the way. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around the toddler as she tried to stop herself from crying as well.

It was getting frustrating to be able to do very little like this and her lower back was hurting to the point it was simply reducing (Y/n) to the same amount of tears as it was for Goldie.

(Y/n) lifted her head when she heard the front door opening meaning that Ben was back with the girls. He had finished all the scenes and extra shots for his latest movie now so he didn't have any more projects to work on at the moment. He still had a few promotional pictures and events and videos to do but they were just for a few hours here and there meaning he was mostly at home now so they didn't have to keep relying on family to help them out.

Ben and (Y/n) both agreed that they weren't going to ask her mother to help them out and Ben didn't want her sister, Andrea, to help either because he didn't get along with her. So it was mainly Ben's family and their friends they had asked to help. But now they could try and be a bit more independent again.

"Mummy!" Charlie clearly sounded surprised when she rushed into the kitchen and found her mum and Goldie sitting on the floor but she was happy nonetheless. She opened her arms and cuddled into (Y/n)'s other side as Taylor ran into the kitchen and placed her backpack down on the kitchen table.

"Hey girlies, you both had a good day?"

"Tired." Charlie mumbled before Taylor responded with how she had made a few pictures that were still at school. Walking into the kitchen, Ben rose his brows when he noticed (Y/n) was sitting on the floor but he didn't say anything. "Tay, you gonna go get changed?" Ben questioned as he leaned against the counter, grabbing a pack of biscuits for Charlie who he knew was going to ask for something in a minute. She was usually hungry when she came back from daycare.

Taylor nodded her head, moving to wrap her arms around (Y/n) who was receiving hugs from all three girls before Taylor drifted off to go and change out of her school clothes. Ben gently threw the pack of biscuits to Charlie who caught them instantly before she trotted off into the living room. Ben turned his attention back to the other two girls still in the kitchen with him, his lips curving down at the small murmurs and wails leaving Goldie's lips as her teeth must still be giving her some trouble.

"How do you feel?"

"Like my back is going to snap. Can you help me up?" (Y/n) spoke quietly as she held her hands out towards Ben after shifting Goldie so she was sitting on the floor instead of her lap. Ben leaned down in front of her, holding onto her arm and her waist to try and ease her to her feet as she gripped his arms.

Ben didn't miss the way that (Y/n) grimaced when she straightened up and the weight was placed back onto her spine again. (Y/n) was glad the pain in her stomach she had felt before had gone but the pain in her back was so much worse. It was as if someone was slowly squeezing on her spine and sometimes it went away when she sat down, other times it just stayed. Moving didn't help the pain but it did help the rest of her from turning to stone.

"Why don't you go back to bed?" Ben questioned lightly as he moved his arms so they were wrapped around her waist.

"I've been in bed for the last month and all this morning, I need to do something." (Y/n) rested her head on Ben's shoulder, trying to keep her tone calm but it wasn't working very well.

For the last month, she had done very little and it wasn't a nice feeling, (Y/n) didn't like relying on others to do things she should be fine doing. She didn't like seeing Ben's mother doing the washing or making dinner or changing Goldie and playing with her when that was what (Y/n) wanted to do. She didn't like just sitting around and doing nothing or not being able to get up and see to Goldie or Charlie during the night.

Bed rest wasn't what (Y/n) should be doing because she had three other children to look after and Ben couldn't do it all on his own. Relying on other people made (Y/n) feel anxious and useless, it made her irritated and restless with a need to get out of bed and be productive in any way she could.

"And for the last month you've been fine. In just about two months we'll have our next girl and you can do whatever you like, when you like. You just have to take it easy now so you'll both be okay." Ben knew it was annoying and upsetting but during this past month, (Y/n) had gotten better. She wasn't having any pain or cramps or bleeding and the baby was fine meaning that bed rest must be helping even a little bit.

When their next daughter was born then (Y/n) would be better because there would be no more abruption or bleeding or risk to the baby. She wouldn't have to be on bed rest and when she felt back to normal she could do whatever she wanted. She could run around the house and tend to their new baby and Goldie and they could both switch between caring for the girls. She wouldn't feel this way but to get to that point, (Y/n) had to take things easy.

"I'm gonna start dinner." (Y/n) mumbled against his shoulder before she slowly pulled away. Attempting to move over to the fridge near the back door, but Ben kept his arms around her waist to stop her from moving.

"You just said your back hurts, rushing about to make dinner won't help. Go to bed." Ben pleaded with his eyes but he felt his heart tightening in his chest when tears fell from (Y/n)'s eyes. Her back was causing her pain but laying down didn't always take the edge off. She just wanted to feel useful and do something.

"Going to bed won't make the pain go away and doing dinner won't make it worse." (Y/n) pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away and going to the fridge, trying to decide what to make for tea.

Ben sighed before he leaned down to scoop Goldie up who was sat whimpering around the toy she was chewing on. He cradled the toddler against his chest as she rested her head on his shoulder giving him the impression she was tired. He would go and settle her down for her nap in a while. He grabbed the half-finished bottle from the counter and pressed it to Goldie's lips to prompt her to have a drink. Watching as she moved the toy and locked it in the crook of her elbow before tiredly drinking the milk Ben was holding out for her.

"Still being stubborn." Ben mused quietly, his eyes asking (Y/n) to prove him wrong when she glared at him.

"Don't start Ben. If this was you we both know you wouldn't even try and go on bed rest." Ben wasn't the kind of person who would do well on bed rest, he was the kind who most likely wouldn't even try. He was active, he did stunts at work, he went to the gym every week and he was very involved with raising the girls. He wouldn't want to be stuck in bed.

He had been on bed rest once in his life when he damaged his back in university and that was the one and only time he had managed to do very little for a few weeks.

"I'm not saying that though, am I? I'm not the one who's pregnant and I'm not the one who decided bed rest just meant when and if I want to."

Ben wasn't disagreeing with her point because he knew at this point in his life, if the doctor told him to go on bed rest he wouldn't or he would only calm his life down a little. But Ben wasn't the one who was on bed rest right now and he wasn't on bed rest because he was pregnant. He had seen (Y/n) this last month, he knew that even though she had tried to stay in bed and do very little, she still got up and moved around.

(Y/n) still did washing and made the beds and tried to do the cooking until Ben or someone else took over. She was still doing a lot of things as if she was fine, she was deciding when and if she wanted to stay in bed and that wasn't what the doctor had told her to do.

"I'm hardly doing anything-"

"Hardly? Baby, me and mum have to physically take over whatever you're doing to make you stop and go to bed. If this was just about your back then I would totally agree with you and say you're fine to do things here and there, but this is about the baby." Ben had walked around the house lately and had to pick Goldie up before (Y/n) did because Goldie was growing so she was getting heavy. He took over making dinner a few times so (Y/n) would simply rest and sit down or go to bed.

Ben didn't want to be controlling or rude or harsh but (Y/n) wasn't just getting up and doing a few little things. She was trying to do things when she was bored and she was getting more and more active now rather than staying on bed rest. Ben walked over to where (Y/n) was, gently brushing away some of the tears streaking down her features.

"You know what the doctor said, the placenta was here," Ben commented as he pressed his palm gently against her stomach. "And now it's here." He moved his hand a little lower down to try and get her to see this how he did. "That's all it took for our girl to become unstable and for the bleeding to happen. You may feel better but the placenta is still there and if it moves again that's it, she gets born now. But if you just relax for the next two months, we'll all be fine."

The placenta hadn't moved very much but the small amount it did move had caused bleeding and made their baby become unstable for a few hours. That wasn't fixed even if (Y/n) did feel and look better and if she overworked herself the placenta was simply going to fall further. If it moved again and caused a bigger bleed their girl was either going to be born premature or they would have to do a C-section because this was a dangerous condition.

Bed rest meant that the placenta wouldn't move and (Y/n) would feel okay and be better. It meant her body could stabilise again and their girl would be fine and be full term rather than premature.

"I just don't like doing nothing, we've still got three other girls to look after, Ben." (Y/n) buried her face in his chest as he kept Goldie stable in one arm so he could wrap his other arm around her waist. He pressed his lips to the top of her head as he knew what she was saying.

"Yeah, we, not just you, baby. Let me make sure they're okay and you focus on making sure our next girl is okay. You're protecting and looking after our baby, that's not doing nothing in my eyes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) slowly carded her fingers through Ben's curls rather methodically as her eyes kept drifting between the tv and Ben. She couldn't quite hear what he was quietly whispering but it didn't matter since he wasn't technically talking to her. A shiver ran down her spine when she felt his lips pressing to her stomach, causing tingles to run under the surface of her skin.

He was laid on his side with his head resting next to her stomach, something he had always seemed to do with each pregnancy. (Y/n) liked it because it was clear he was trying to talk or bond with the baby and it showed just how much he loved them but sometimes (Y/n) wondered what he said. It felt as if he was whispering bribes or magic because all of their girls were attached to his hip. All the girls had Ben wrapped around their fingers, especially Charlie, she was a proper daddy's girl.

"Hey baby." (Y/n) mumbled tiredly when she saw Charlie quietly trotting into the room as if she was trying not to be noticed since she knew it was past her bedtime.

Ben turned his head to the side, gently pressing his cheek to (Y/n)'s stomach as he watched Charlie pull herself up onto the end of the bed before she crawled up to the middle of the bed. She sat back on her legs, her head leaning to the side as she clearly wondered what Ben was doing.

"Why're you up past your bedtime?" Ben questioned, his tone showing her that he wasn't angry or annoyed since it wasn't too late into the night.

"I want to stay with you... what you doing, daddy?" Charlie's eyes drifted between both parents in a silent request to stay with them for the night, a request she already knew they wouldn't deny. Charlie wasn't normally one to sleep with them very often. If she was ill or simply wanted the company she was, but she tended to fall asleep with them and then be fine in her own bed.

"You can stay with us tonight." (Y/n) responded with a smile which seemed to lift a weight off of Charlie's chest.

"I'm talking to your sister, baby." Charlie had asked Ben before if the baby could hear him when she noticed him talking to (Y/n)'s stomach but it still seemed to confuse or amaze her when he did. Ben didn't know himself if the baby could hear him but it didn't stop him, it was just something he liked to do and if there was a chance the baby could hear him or it could make a bond or just do something, he would take it.

Ben kept his arm loosely wrapped around (Y/n)'s waist as his eyes watched Charlie for her reaction when he kissed (Y/n)'s stomach. He knew Charlie got a little upset or jealous if she thought Ben was spending too much time with Taylor or Goldie, she usually clung to him until he paid her attention too.

(Y/n) couldn't help but laugh when Charlie frowned before crawling further up the bed and burrowing herself under Ben's arm until she was laying against his chest between him and (Y/n).

Ben slipped his arms under Charlie's before he suddenly rolled onto his back, pulling her so she was laying on his chest and stomach instead. He smiled at her sudden fit of giggles that was music to his ears as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her chin pressed into his chest as she looked up at him with a cheeky grin that (Y/n) was sure she got from Ben.

"When's she gonna be here?" Charlie questioned when her giggles died down, her eyes flitting over to look at (Y/n) before she looked back at Ben. Charlie was still young so she didn't understand why Ben or (Y/n) couldn't give her a specific date for when her next sister would be born. She still didn't understand why her sister was in (Y/n)'s tummy but she hadn't gotten a good answer when she asked last time so she stopped asking and just accepted that it was the way things was.

"Ooh, in about two months babygirl." Ben shuffled so he was laid further up to bed so his legs didn't hang over the edge. He leaned up against the pillows as Charlie settled on his chest. He was used to all the girls laying on his chest or stomach so the sudden weight compressing down on him didn't bother him, it was rather comforting.

"She'll miss your birthday- and mine." Charlie's expression fell as she seemed to deflate at the sudden realisation.

Ben's birthday was in one month and Charlie's was a week after his, then Goldie's was two weeks after Charlie's. Charlie loved that her birthday was close to Ben's, it made her feel special and somehow like she was closer to Ben. She had rather been hoping that the baby would be born in time for her fourth birthday.

"She's still technically going to be there, babygirl. And she'll be there for all your other birthdays too. Come on, you need to settle down and go to sleep." Ben pressed his lips to the top of her head as he pulled the cover up so it was resting over her back.

He would rather their next girl be born after Charlie's birthday because then they wouldn't have a newborn and a one-year-old to juggle and look after whilst also seeing to Taylor and of course Charlie since it would be her birthday. Ben didn't mind her not being there for his birthday either, (Y/n) had been pregnant with both Goldie and Charlie on Ben's birthdays and they had been close to their due dates on his birthdays.

It made his day more relaxed because he went out for a drink with his friends either the day before or the day after his birthday and then spent his birthday with his family. If their next girl was born after Charlie's birthday then it would mean they would be almost full term and so she wouldn't be born premature.

That was what Ben was hoping for.

[bytemycupcakes]

Changeling!Pabit AU

I said I was makin a post and I don’t care that nobody seems interested in him cause I love this little puppet boy and wont stop making aus for him.

Under a cut cause l o n g e

--

-Pabit only ever remembers Boris as his caretaker

-Not unusual for a changeling, really but it’s true

-Boris always says he just found Pabit on a walk. People usually take that as a joke, but he’s being serious.

-Ya see, Pabit wandered a bit too far from the fae as an infant, and Boris almost tripped over him on a walk in the woods.

-Boris picked up this strange little faerie baby, they made eye contact, and Pabits body shifted to resemble Boris.

-Well fuck I guess Boris has a kid now. The thought of calling the local orphanage doesn’t even cross his mind, it’s really just, “Ah fuck I found a kid.. Guess I’m a dad then”

-Really the fact that Pabit seemed to latch onto and form to look like Boris didn’t help with that train of thought.

-It didn’t take long at all for it to click in Boris’ head that Pabit wasn’t human. Obviously the whole shapeshifting thing, but this child was practically FERAL.

-In a non-babyproofed home, Pabit wreaked havoc. Being a master at hiding, scuttering Boris’ walls, and getting into everything, especially things that a baby shouldn’t be touching.

-It took ages for Boris to get the house at least somewhat Pabit-proofed.

-Pabit still manages to get into shit constantly, it’s like a talent.

-Just like Child!Au, Pabit is not Pabit’s actual name, it’s a name he gained later on because of how much he mimics Boris. (Whats his actual name? No idea)

-Pabit’s gender was literally assigned. He doesn’t have typical human anatomy, being completely androgynous, and thus Boris just... -stamps Pabit with “boy” sticker-

-By the time of the habitat, Pabit id’s as masc non-binary

-Boris considers the day he found Pabit as his birthday, not actually knowing how old he was when found, he counts up from that date, thus where Pabit being 15 comes from.

-Pabit is so tall both because he is fae, and because his body mimics Boris for its aging. So he’s just.. so fucking tall.

-Pabit has a shadow form, but didn’t seem to gain one until he first saw Boris do it when he was a toddler.

-For awhile he’d just randomly shift to it, until his subconscious realized it was primarity an anger-based “transformation”

-While Boris’ shadow form is just intense anger, Pabit’s becomes almost like a rage. As his body grows to adapt most of his non-human ability (strength and some subtle basic magic) into said form.

-Depending on the source of anger, Pabit can be incredibly destructive or eerily calm but a ticking bomb.

-Even Boris gets a bit scared when Pabit shifts to the form... One too many times he’s had his house demolished from this child- Or even being injured by the rage (Nothing serious, but more damage than an 8 y/o should be able to give a grown man)

-From a very young age Pabit always showed signs of adhd/autism. Though he doesn’t technically have these conditions because he’s fae, he’s found comfort in knowing he’s not just really weird, and if people ask about it, he and Boris will just say he has ADHD and/or is autistic*

*[Lil step back: This whole au exists because I heavily project my adhd onto Pabit. And my girlfriend, who is autistic, loves the changeling trope (We even call her one fairly often). So please don’t get hateful about this]

-Boris was always pretty open about Pabit not being human, never tried to hide it from him. He grew up as the outcast and couldn’t figure out why, he’s not gonna let his son feel that same lost and broken feeling.

-Pabit tends to speak in broken sentences. He can speak in full, but feels more comfortable doing more of a Hulk speech pattern. Thus he often talks in third person, and leaves out words he deems unneeded to understand the sentence.

-He’ll fall into proper speech when ranting or infodumping, though. Speaking much more like Boris, with proper and large words.

-He stutters over bigger words a lot, and sometimes gets frustrated and just uses “dumbed down” language in its place (this is how he’ll describe it)

-Pabit has a major hyperfixation of puppetry and puppet making, and a smaller one on musical theatre/acting.

-There is Pabit, and then an actual puppet Habit. It was a gift for fathers day, and though it’s not as pretty as the irl puppet, it’s still pretty damn good for a 15 y/o with claws. Boris keeps it on a shelf in his office, it’s Pabits favorite out of all the puppets he’s made.

-Pabit will nab it and, using Boris’ desk as a stage, will just talk to Boris as “Boris”.

-Boris finds this absolutely adorable, and goes along with it. He’s made several business deals with this puppet. Usually for teeth.

-Which yes, Pabit eats. (No Pabit au is complete if he doesn’t eat teeth, fight me.)

-Pabit stims. A lot. His most common stims are kicking, bouncing, or wiggling his legs, chewing (Yes teeth eating is a stim for him, but he mostly goes for more rubbery textures), hand flapping, and full body wiggling/bouncing. He’ll also play with his hair, but it’s not as common.

-Pabit will occasionally repeat things, usually funny things he hears while giggling.

-Pabit’s hair is so stupidly thicc and curly that no stylist in town will deal with it.

-Boris has learned to cut hair, which comes in handy more often than you’d expect in a house of two very long-haired people.

-aka: Pabits hair grows so fucking fast, its ridiculous.

-His hair sticks together so much that it almost acts like one solid pillow-like mass. No hairtie can contain it. (If it’s tied back, it’s usually an actual string litterally tied around his hair)

-Pabits ears can emote, they don’t move much, but it’s noticeable. They wiggle when he gets really heccin happy.

-Pabit’s pupils alwas seem to be slitted, but at general shock (among other various things) his iris’ will slit aswell, leaving Pabit with a line in some massive sclara’s.

-Pabit has gotten very good at sewing thanks to his love of puppet making. This becomes very useful since he usually has to tailor his clothes slightly.

-In the habitat proper, Pabit is surprisingly popular with all the kids. Most notably Tim Tam and Trevor.

-He knew Trevor (And of Nat) before the habitat. He and Trevor are classmates while Nat is in the class behind them.

-Trevor didn’t really acknowledge Pabit’s existence until he bit a bully and seemed to break skin effortlessly??? hmmmmmmmm.

-Thus Trevor started theorizing, nothing in depth, but the kid was on his radar.

-Trevor was really surprised to find Pabit in the habitat, and even more surprised when Pabit told him Boris is his dad.

-The most these two ever talked before the habitat was a single “peer review” assignment, but in the habitat they start talking a lot more cause they’re the oldest kids, know eachother a bit, and both need to infodump like crazy.

-It takes a while for Trevor to get used to Pabits broken speech, but he eventually finds himself mimicing it occasionally. and Pabit will mimic him as well (adhd solidarity, boys)

-Pabit and Tim Tam can communicate non-verbally with no trouble at all. Thus this is used to wreak so much havoc on habititians since they’re both feral little goblins.

-It doesn’t help that Pabit has special access to “employees only” areas since he’s Boris’ son.

-Trevor and Pabit have gone on massive theory rants about random musicals while Nat’s in the room and she just watches these two in confused awe because of all the little details they’ll pull out to support these wild theories.

-Nat seriously has no idea how these two can just. keep. going. It’s been three hours at least let her have a snack!

-Pabit has allowed Trevor to ask so many weird questions about him because Pabit is also very curious about what exactly he is.

-Boris isn’t going to question why Trevor was poking at Pabit’s ribcage with a pen and just let boys be boys.

-Nat supplies Trevor with books on mythical beings she steals from Trencils room.

-Even with the three of them mostly working together, they cant figure out exactly what Pabit is.

-Until they’re all going over it in the boiler room one day. Where Wallus can hear them.

-YES ONCE AGAIN WALLUS IS NOT HUMAN! AGAIN, FIGHT ME.

-Did three children just lure out the frightened janitor cause they’re describing changelings and Wallus, a fae, knows about these kinda things? Yes. Yes they did.

-Wallus really never got a good look at Pabit before he took refuge in the wall, Pabit never got too involved in his work, or his talks with Boris. So Wallus isn’t too surprised that he missed it.

-It takes a bit of courage building from Wallus and Pabit litterally dragging him to Boris’ office before Wallus talks to Boris about how he aquired Pabit.

-Lots of details short: Wallus actually remembers when Pabit went missing which is pretty neat.

-Boris was almost worried he’d lose Pabit to his birth parents... Until Wallus says they didn’t really worry too much cause he was supposed to be put into someones life anyway. Was only mildly concerning since the fae couldn’t keep an eye on him.

-Pabit barely processes any of this information. Same with nearly all fae information Wallus tells him.

-Its not that he doesn’t like it or anything, he just doesn’t really care about the details. He got a name for what he is and why he acts like he does, and now he’s done. Mission complete.

[I wanna type more but my adhd is being MEAN so I’ll stop here for now. Feel free to send me asks about this au tho cause I love it]

EDIT:

-One last thing: Pabit loves the night. He adores the moon. He loves sitting on the roof past bedtime just to stare at the sky

[beerecordings]

thinking about how in the Marvin’s Cage au or in any version of “Marvin’s the one who traps JJ in the box and then when they find out Jackie kicks Marvin out and brings Jameson home” Jackie would be SO SO over-protective and highkey loving and affirming and spoil Jameson so much because

this little guy has been through actual hell and he’s a nervous wreck who’s never been loved before, of course Jackie’s going to smother him in affection

2. Jackie’s little brother was the one who trapped him so Jackie feels like he has to make up for Marvin’s cruelty and also he blames himself for not seeing the signs and saving Jameson sooner

3. Jackie misses Marvin so much and compensates for it by putting all of that missing love onto Jameson

(and it’s a little unhealthy (okay maybe really unhealthy at times) because he’s projecting his memories of the relationship he and Marvin had when Marvin was young and innocent and loved him so much and he can’t help but see young Marvin in this new little brother. Jackie really wants to protect and foster him so he doesn’t lose that innocence like Marvin did, because just thinking about having to kick out another brother or realize that they’ve done something horrible is enough to make him break down)

okay and then i just wrote like a whole damn essay on Jackie’s anxiety and relationship with JJ after he has to kick Marvin out so i’m putting it under a cut hahaha

He starts giving Henrik and Chase a lot of extra affection too, like suddenly he’s treating them a lot less like they’re just friends and more like they’re his little brothers, and even like they’re much younger than they are. Henrik gets irritated because Jackie is bossier in his caretaking now, insisting that he go to bed earlier than four in the morning and threatening to carry him there if he doesn’t - but Jackie also sometimes just comes and sits with him while he’s working and Henrik understands that this is his way of trying to protect him and allows it because he wants to see Jackie heal. Chase doesn’t mind the extra attention at all, suddenly Jackie is taking time off superhero stuff to stay home and do fun things with him and he’ll even cuddle up with him on the couch a little while they watch movies and stuff! it’s pretty great, but Chase can tell sometimes that Jackie is only acting happy to try and make him happy, because they both miss Marvin a lot. but nobody in the house talks about Marvin. they haven’t even explained everything that happened to JJ.

Jackie just spoils the hell out of him. he brings JJ presents every couple nights, anything from cute socks he saw or a cool rock to hot chocolate and bigger presents from stores like clothes and art stuff. Henrik keeps warning him not to spoil him too much, because JJ is learning pretty well that he can get whatever he wants just by pouting a little and Henrik knows it’s not mature, but Jackie can’t help it!! he wants to give him whatever he needs!!

when Jameson has panic attacks or nightmares, Jackie can’t be removed from his side, or at the very least he’s standing outside his door guarding him. they’ve never seen him quite this worked up about protecting someone!! usually part of the reason Jackie is comforting during anxious or depressive episodes is because he’s so calm and sure, but now he gets upset and weepy whenever Jamie shows the smallest signs of distress, because he can’t stop thinking about Marvin being the one who did this to him. he’ll sit up with Jameson long into the night and tell him over and over again that he’s safe, that he loves him, that he’ll never let anything take him away again.

Jackie has like. a thousand pictures of Jameson just smiling on his phone. he cried the first time Jameson smiled at him (he was the first one of them he did smile at and nothing makes Jackie feel more like a good big brother than that)

he teases Chase and Henrik about being shitty at things lol (”YOU SUCK AT MARIO CART HA”) but with Jameson it’s all this “no no no you’re doing so good buddy!! here i’ll teach you how to fix this one little thing!!” and Chase and Henrik are just like. “jackie we hate u” but it’s pretty funny really

he trained Chase and Henrik to fight - at least the basics - within the first couple months of their creation, but he’s much more cautious with Jamie. Henrik and Chase have to be the ones to teach him the first couple lessons just to prove to Jackie that he can do it and he won’t break. and then? Jackie trains Jameson harder than he ever trained the others, trying to make him as strong as he can, as skilled as he can, trying to make sure Jameson will be able to protect himself even if something happens to him.

Chase and Henrik are watching all this a little nervously. Jackie adores Jameson, melts for Jameson, dotes on Jameson - it’s pretty damn cute, but it worries them a little, especially because, as Jameson matures, he starts to act more adult around them and then reverts back to “i am tiny and need love :333″ around Jackie

it’s when Jackie has a complete meltdown in Henrik’s arms about how he’s constantly, constantly terrified for his baby brother that they realize there’s like... a real big problem going on here. they call up their old family therapist (they haven’t been going since Marvin... left) and they start trying to work this stuff out. Jackie has Jameson under his arm the whole first session, trying not to cry because this place reminds him of Marvin, anxious to have his little brother in a new place, constantly assuring JJ everything’s going to be okay - projecting his own anxiety onto his little brother and telling himself he’s fine, it’s JJ who needs help, it’s JJ who’s been through trauma, not Jackie... Jameson lets Jackie hold him and pats his knee comfortingly. by the end of the session Jackie is thinking maybe Jamie understands him better than he understands himself, and he’s overwhelmingly grateful that his little brother is letting him do what he feels like he needs to do to help himself survive this grief

they have to push Jackie to even allow Jameson to progress as an adult because he’s just so terrified of anything happening to his baby brother. he’s like that mom watching her kid try to leave for the first day of school like “do you have everything you need??? recite my phone number back to me. don’t talk to strangers!! hold your brother’s hand when you cross the street! I already called the school to tell them all about your allergies and to ask the teacher to be nice to you!!! wait give me one more hug!!! i love you!!!!!!!!” and Jamie’s actually really excited to go to the movies for the first time but Jackie’s all stressed and upset. Henrik and Chase are pulling him away like “MOM WE’RE FINE” and Jackie’s waving them goodbye from the door and texting them every fifteen minutes for updates... lol he loves him

and once he gets on board with Jameson growing up and being more independent and adjusts to it, he takes him to all his favorite places and to do all his favorite things because he just wants to share every part of his life with Jameson and give him all the happiness he can

it takes Jackie a really long time to learn to show any weakness around Jameson because he doesn’t want him to feel unsafe, but Jameson is so supportive of him once he starts opening up to him. Jamie is always trying to return all the love he’s been given and he learns all the best ways to take care of all his brothers when they’re suffering. Jackie thinks the world of him for that and tells him he has a really good heart

in the end they mostly just have to let Jackie grieve Marvin (healthy grief takes about six months) and adjust to someone new in the house, and after that he mellows out about it, but Jameson is still his little buddy and he loves him so so much and spoils the hell out of him hahaha. it’s good for Jameson to be mother-henned a little bit for the first few months and improves his self-esteem, really. no matter how he’s feeling he almost always believes that Jackie, at least, loves him and will never betray or imprison him like that bad man in the mask did.

about a year after taking Jameson in to the house, Jackie and Jameson are best of friends and see each other as equals. they both look out for each other when they’re sad or in trouble and love each other so so much. Jackie still brings JJ presents a couple times a month, and now JJ gets them for him too, and there’s nothing that makes Jackie happier.

[strife-and-discord]

Here Kitty, Kitty

Read on AO3 here

Characters: Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dedue Molinaro, Annette Fantine Dominic, Lysithea Von Ordelia 

Summary: With the war going on, Seteth agrees to open the restricted section of the library in case there could be knowledge there that could help them in battle. Instead what Lysithea and Annette find is a book of mischief (although they don't know that's what it is at the time) and poor Felix who was just there to help them with the heavy lifting accidentally becomes their victim.

This is a Catboy Felix you have been warned.

A/N: *leans real close to the mic* I would just like to thank the ten-hour version of the Tetris theme for getting me through this

Anyway this is 3.5k words of catboy felix dedicated to @corviiids. I'll admit this chapter is a little boring cause it's mostly just the set up but I swear I have other chapters planned featuring plenty of catboy felix shenanigans and I am also open to requests (don't really wanna do shippy stuff though).

also just a small trigger warning but Felix does low key refer to Dedue as a lap dog later on in the chapter and I know that bothers some people

Felix’s nose twitches when Annette slams some ancient tomb down on the table near him, the damned thing is so old Felix is surprised it doesn’t just crumble entirely into dust.

“Careful Annette, that was too loud,” Lysithea shushes from her spot over by the shelves.

Given that they were in the middle of a war and that they were all adults now, Seteth had given the Blue Lions house the keys to access the restricted section of the library. Stating that it may contain old or unconventional knowledge that could be useful in the fight against Edelgard.

Obviously- being the book worms that they are- Lysithea and Annette were the most eager for the chance to learn some forgotten magic and asked Felix to supervise them in case there was some sort of accident. He gets that to some extent this could be important to the war effort so Felix agrees to hang around while they work. However, it’s turning out to be a fairly dull experience where the most Felix has done in nearly an hour and a half is help the girls carry some of the bigger books.

“Ahh… sorry! I shouldn’t have tried to carry one so heavy, I’ll be more careful.” Despite the plume of dust currently irritating Felix’s sinuses he can’t help but roll his eyes fondly at Annette’s antics.

She says she’ll be more careful but he knows that this is far from the last mistake she’ll ever make. Although, he doesn’t seem to mind Annette’s clumsiness as much as he does other people’s. As long as she’s got people like him and Lysithea around to help her out he thinks she’ll be fine.

“What is that one anyway, it’s really dusty so it must have been laying around for a while,” Lysithea asks as she moves to join them at the table.

Annette squints to read the title of the book and Felix thinks to himself that her eyes are probably going bad from all the studying she does. “Li-bri Eo-rum Lo- Lo… Lo-contour? I’m not sure about that last one-” Annette frowns- “It's spelt a bit funny,”

“Libri Eorum Loquuntur,” Lysithea pronounces. Annette and Felix turn to her. “What? I’ve just heard this language spoken by other mages before.” She blushes and looks away.

“Does that mean you understand it?” Felix asks.

Lysithea shakes her head. “No sorry. My understanding is very basic.”

“Oh well, we can ask Seteth about that later. Let’s take a look inside!” With that Annette jams her fingers into a random part of the book and heaves it open, creating another cloud of dust.

“Ugh.. geez! Someone really should have been taking better care of these things,” Lysithea coughs and splutters.

Felix’s nose twitches again but this time he can’t keep himself from sneezing. Annette snickers, “Felix you sneeze like a kitten!”

Heat rises to his cheeks, “No I don’t!”

“Ugh, you sneezed all over the book that’s gross,” Lysithea groans.

“Sorry,” he grumbles.

Annette just giggles at him again before turning her attention to the now open book.

“Hm… weird, the book is written in the same language as the cover but someone’s added some Fodlan translations but only to the instructions. So we know how to do the spell but not what it does.”

Lysithea peaks over her shoulder. “It doesn’t look overly complicated either. Seems you just need something from your victim that ties them to the spell… and then you just say the words.”

“Wow! These are even more complicated than the title! Do you think you can figure out how to pronounce it Lys?”

Lysithea scoffs, “Of course I can. The chant is ostendere bestia est homo in interiorem”

Felix isn't’ really sure what happens after Lysithea says the chant because all at once he is struck by a blinding pain in both his head and his lower back. He collapses to the ground with a scream of anguish. He Vaguely registers Lysithea and Annette rushing over to him and talking to him in panicked tones but before he can try and reach for the words to reassure them, his world is engulfed in white light before he blacks out completely.

___________

Dedue is, as per usual, sitting at one of the pews in the cathedral that is closest to his Highness in order to keep an eye on him as he… broods. It is where Dedue can most often be found these days seeing as Gilbert took up most of his other duties in his absence. He doesn’t mind though. Dedue’s place has always been at his Highness’s side, for better or for worse.

Since Dedue now has a lot more idle time than he is used to, and he cannot indulge in his usual hobbies of cooking and gardening from the cathedral, he has taken up some new hobbies that can be done at his post such as sewing and crafts. One lucky day he was even able to convince his Highness to allow him to stitch up some of the raggedness his cloak had received during his missing five years.

The cathedral is not as busy as it was back in his academy days so, for the most part, Dedue is left to spend his days in relative peace and quiet. Today, however, the sweet eerie silence of the holy structure is greatly disturbed when his fellow housemates Lysithea and Annette come running through the place like twin hurricanes, calling for Dedue.

“Dedue! Deeduuuueee!” He really does wish they’d be a bit quieter, this is a church after all and he doesn’t want them to aggravate his Highness.

“There is no need to shout. I can hear you,” he informs them politely as they reach him at the back of the church.

“We messed up big time Dedue.” Annette pants from running. “You need to come with us. You have to see it to believe it and we don’t know what to do.” Lysithea is nodding enthusiastically beside her...

Dedue frowns. He is not entirely sure what sort of situation would require this kind of response. However, were someone dying he would hope that Lysithea and Annette would simply tell him outright. He believes this is something different. He stands up and places his current sewing project gently back on the seat behind him. He doubts anyone here would take it. He nods once at the two women and gestures for them to lead the way.

As they move towards wherever it is that they’re headed, Dedue notes that Lysithea and Annette do not seem to be panicked, per se, just nervous. He also notes that they seem to be heading towards the Dormitories. Perhaps someone is ill and the girls want his advice in taking care of them? Although that doesn’t explain their statement of ‘he has to see it to believe it.”

He is led to the second floor of the dormitories and towards the end of the hall. Dedue panics for a second that perhaps they have done something dreadful to his Highness’s room. While he may not be using it at the moment, Dedue would prefer it to remain intact. Fortunately, the trio stops before his Highness’s room and instead enter Felix’s.

Dedue’s brain comes to a complete standstill. Lysithea and Annette stand at Felix’s bedside looking at him with expectation and fear but Dedue can not formulate any sort of emotional response to offer them. Felix lies on his bed, stripped of his weapons and curled in a fetal position on his side, with two catlike ears sprouting from his head and a rather elegant tail curling from his lower back.

Dedue is not sure of how many moments pass in silence but it is enough that Lysithea and Annette start to shuffle awkwardly where they are standing.

“What…-” Dedue starts- “exactly has happened here.”

Lysithea won’t meet his eye and Annette seems to be biting her lip to keep from crying. He hopes, absentmindedly, that he is not intimidating them too much.

It is Lysithea who speaks up first. “Felix was helping us look through the restricted section of the library for anything we could potentially use in battle when we found a very old book in a language we didn’t understand and accidentally cast a spell from it!” Lysithea rushes the story so fast that Dedue almost doesn’t catch it.

Dedue looks at Felix again. It is probably the most peaceful Dedue has ever seen Felix in all the years they’ve known each other, he can’t help but think Felix looks very nice like this. Other than the ears and tail he can’t see anything wrong or out of the ordinary. He understands that given the current state of things both Dedue and the Professor have become the primary givers of support among the monastery but for once he does not have even the slightest of clues as to what he should do about this.

“I do not mean to sound rude but I do not believe I am the right person to assist in this. I am very much lacking in skill when it comes to the magical arts and I have little knowledge of Fodlan history. If you want my advice, it would be to speak to either Manuela or Seteth about this. Perhaps both.”

Annette and Lysithea both look crestfallen at that and Dedue cannot suppress the twinge of guilt he feels at not being able to provide them with a solution.

“Well… can you at least stay with us until he wakes up? He’s gonna be really angry when he wakes up and I don’t know if Annette’s pouty face will be enough to calm him down this time…”

Dedue sighs. He understands their concern, even if Felix does not lash out at them physically he can be just as brutal with his words but Dedue is already starting to feel anxious at being away from his Highness for so long. However, this is a fairly serious situation and the goddess knows what kind of condition Felix will be in when he wakes up. If he can’t walk, it would not be fair to leave Annette and Lysithea to carry him to the infirmary.

“Alright,” he relents, “I will stay until he wakes and help escort him to the infirmary afterwards.”

Dedue stumbles as Annette leaps to hug him with a surprising amount of might for such a small lady. “Oh thank you Dedue! This means the world to me I promise we’ll make it up to you!”

“Annette, shhh!” Lysithea scolds, “Felix is still sleeping.”

“Oh yeah, sorry!”

Lysithea just rolls her eyes and pulls out Felix’s desk chair to sit in. Dedue situates himself by the door and Annette moves towards the bed to have a closer look at Felix.

“You have to admit though… he does look really cute.” As if without thinking, Annette’s hand slowly moves towards the spot on Felix’s head between his ears.

“Annette!” Lysithea jumps up. “You can’t do that! Felix will actually kill you!”

Annette looks back guiltily, “He doesn’t have to know! I have a better chance of being able to do it now than when he’s awake.”

Assured in her logic, Annette continues her actions. Dedue can’t help but agree with Lysithea in that watching Annette move to pat Felix on the head is sending off warning bells in his head. Fortunately, Felix does not immediately awaken in a ball of rage and swords as Annette’s hand makes contact. Instead, as Annette starts to scratch gently around where his ears are, a low rumbling sound comes from Felix instead.

“Oh my goddess, he’s purring,” Annette whispers in complete awe. Dedue swears he can see stars in her eyes.

Lysithea moves from her seat to peak over Annette’s shoulder, moving cautiously as if one wrong step will cause an explosion. “I wanna have a go as well” Annette backs away carefully allowing Lysithea to take her place.

“His ears are so soft…” Lysithea mutters almost to herself as it is hard to hear her over Felix’s purring.

Suddenly, the purring cuts off and Lysithea jerks her hand back as Felix gives a yawn with way more fangs than any human is meant to have. He starts to sit up and Annette and Lysithea scramble back to hide by Dedue.

Felix doesn’t seem to notice them in his grogginess, instead opting to lick his hand and use it to clean behind his ears. Dedue understands what he is doing. He has seen real cats do the same. However, if Dedue thought his brain had been frozen earlier what it is doing now can only be considered a total breakdown. The three stand at the door in the most oppressing silence Dedue has ever felt. Annette once again looks as though she is about to cry and Lysithea is poised and ready to run at a moment's notice.

Felix, however, is completely blind to their shocked states and merely continues to groom himself as if it is the most natural thing in the world.

Felix freezes mid lick and his eyes snap wide open.

Dedue has known Felix for a number of years now even if they’ve never exactly been close and during that time Dedue would never have described himself as feeling intimidated by Felix. However, the look on Felix’s face as he slowly turns to face the trio at the doorway still in the position to lick his hand, gives Dedue chills down his spine as nothing else has in a long time.

The others must feel the same because Dedue registers that Lysithea has his arm in a death grip and a sniffle from his side indicates that Annette’s tears have finally burst forth.

Felix lowers his hand but does not relax his glare even a little. “What… Exactly… Have you done to me?” his voice is low and dangerous and Dedue does not like it one bit.

“It was an accident…” Annette squeaks out.

“That spell from the old book we cast seems to have given you the features of a cat,” Lysithea tries to explain with confidence.

“If you are willing, we’d like to take you to the infirmary to be checked by Manuela. Just to be sure there are no ill side effects,” Dedue adds.

Felix takes several deep breaths and Dedue considers shifting into a more defensive position, he’s fairly certain he can take on an unarmed Felix and if not he can at least protect the girls. Fortunately, this isn’t necessary as the breathing seems to be enough to bring Felix down for the time being. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

Both Lysithea and Annette seem to start breathing again and Dedue would be lying if he said he didn’t let out a sigh of relief as well. Felix gets up from his spot on the bed and stalks over to the mirror on the wall. His new ears twitch as he looks at them but other then shows no outward emotion towards his new appendages other than vague annoyance. Which is how Felix usually looks at things.

“Oh!” Annette jumps, “You should tuck your tail in and cover your ears with your hood! So you don’t alarm anyone.” Felix nods to her and moves to do so.

_____________

Felix’s stomach is churning as Dedue knocks on Manuela’s door. He wants nothing more than to go back to his dorm and take another nap but the fact that he wants that over going to the training grounds is enough to convince him that he needs this check-up. He doesn’t want to make a scene of being freaked out because he knows that will only make Lysithea and Annette feel worse. This really isn’t their fault, the spell probably wouldn’t have gone off if Felix hadn’t sneezed all over the book in the first place. He is pissed off, sure, but not at them.

Unfortunately for him, Manuela actually seems to be present and sober for once. Although her professional conduct seems to be just as lacking as ever. She gives them all a once over before stoping on Felix and his completely ridiculous hood.

“My, what an interesting group of people. What exactly brings you lot to my door?” Felix’s stomach does a particularly nauseating flip. He’s never liked the way she talks.

The other three all give Felix a look and he rolls his eyes before taking off his hood. Finally, his ears were getting really uncomfortable under there. Manuela’s eyes widen and he makes sure to scowl at her.

“Well, I suppose you better come in then. The rest of you wait outside or go back to whatever you were doing. This is probably going to take a while.”

Felix feels more like he’s walked into a prison sentence, as Manuela shuts the door behind him, then an infirmary and he almost wishes Dedue could be here with him since he’s pretty good rebuffing these sorts of thin-

“Alright hon, I’m gonna need you to strip.”

Huh? Felix’s brain stops and he looks at Manuela slack-jawed.

Manuela clicks her tongue at him. “Don’t give me that look, this isn’t a come on. This looks like some pretty serious transformation magic so I’m going to need to give you a full physical to try and make a record of everything that’s changed.”

“Is a full physical really necessary?” Felix cringes.

“Yes, Felix. In order to understand the extent of the changes it is very necessary.”

Felix groans but moves to start taking off his clothes none the less.

______________

After a gruelling two hours of tests that have left Felix in desperate need of a nap, he is finally released by Manuela with a file containing her initial results on Felix’s new physical nature and some suggestions he’s sure he’s going to ignore. To Felix’s surprise, Dedue is still waiting outside the infirmary although he has taken a seat on the ground and seems to have acquired some… sewing.

Dedue looks up from his project as the door opens. “Ah, you’re done. How did it go?” Dedue may be acting polite but Felix can tell it’s awkward for him. Probably because most of their previous conversations involved Felix yelling insults at him.

“That was probably one of the worst experiences of my life. However-” Felix gestures at the folder- “we now have a written record of all the know changes the spell made to me.” “That’s a great start,” Dedue nods. “The girls went to talk to Seteth to see if he knows anything useful.”

‘Why are you still here anyway? I thought you would’ve gone back to your master by now.” He would call Dedue a lap dog but he figures he has been helpful today so Felix might as well go easy on him.

Dedues face falls and Felix can’t help but feel little guilty, he hopes his ears don’t give it away. Sure it was unnecessary but he has a reputation to uphold. “I’m sure his Highness will manage to survive one day without me.” And there’s that calm dismissal that never fails to piss Felix off. His guilt quickly dissipates and he takes note of the way his tail seems to flick instinctually with his irritation.

Before the situation can devolve into a real argument, Lysithea and Annette come running up. It’s kinda mean but Felix thinks they look a bit like woodland creatures running around on their little legs.

“We spoke with Seteth!” Annette announces, out of breath.

“You do not need to run everywhere,” Dedue says with concern.

“We spoke to Seteth-” Lysithea continues- “And he said that book is actually a ‘Book of Mischief’ and that spell was to ‘reveal one’s inner creature’. So in other words, it’s a prank spell from a prank book.”

Felix sputters, “Wha- What do you mean ‘reveals one’s inner creature’?! Why the hell am I a cat!?” He should be something way cooler right? Like… like a wolf or something.

Dedue ignores Felix’s comment, “Did Seteth say anything about reversing this?”

“He said that he’d talk to Professor Hanneman and Linhardt about doing some research into reversing but for now all we can do is wait.”

So, in other words, Felix is going to be stuck like this for a while. He’s not really sure how to feel about that. There haven’t really been any negative side effects yet but it’s still freaking weird to be a person with various cat features. A voice in his head that sounds annoyingly like Ingrid and that he would rather ignore, says that this is karma for him always comparing other people to animals.

“Well…” Dedue looks down, “I suppose all that’s left to do now is to announce it to the rest of the house and the professor. It would hardly be practical for Felix to walk around all day wearing his hood.”

Dedue turns to Felix, “That reminds me, if you are willing to offer up your coat for a short time, I could sew some proper earholes into the hood so it’s not so uncomfortable.”

Felix takes a deep breath. These are the things he has to worry about now. Ear holes for his hoods, finger holes for his new claws, and probably holes in his pants for his tail. Being a cat/human hybrid seems to involve a lot of holes. It’s also going to involve a lot of explaining things, starting with the former Blue Lions

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 153

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 05 - “The Qualifications of Precure” Date watched: 5 October 2019 Original air date: 4 March 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/irm8JKB Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

There are some episodes of Precure that really stick with you, for one reason or another. This episode is well-remembered for what doesn’t happen, and what it means. Most of you probably already know what I mean, but I’ll save it for the discussion section. First, let’s recap.

The Plot

The episode shows us a day in the life of Karen, school council president. Everyone admires her intelligence and leadership, but she can’t be honest with herself. Whenever someone requests her help with something, she sighs and says that she should have known that if she wanted something done right, she should have done it herself. This is a terrible attitude for a leader, as she’s simply assuming the burdens of other people rather than helping them to resolve their problems. She can’t even be honest with herself and admit that she’s overburdened, or that she misses her parents. We get to see her home, it’s a giant mansion, the other girls claim it’s even bigger than the school grounds, but the only people that live there are Karen and her butler, because her parents are professional musicians and they’re always traveling. They call her once in a while, and this is one such day, but despite her initial enthusiasm to receive the call, she quickly puts on her working face and tells her mother she’s not lonely, there’s no need to worry about her, so please do their best at their job, and then she hangs up without having had any meaningful or enjoyable conversation, because she doesn’t want to burden her parents. Basically, she’s a mess.

who are you trying to convince?

Over in Labyrinth HQ, Bunbee scolds Arachnea for her failure and sends her down the time-out chute before deciding he’ll go get the Dream Collet himself.

Meanwhile, Coco reminds the four girls that they need to seek out their final member, and Nozomi insists that Karen is the one. Komachi takes them to visit Karen’s house, but she got roped into more student council work so she isn’t home yet. They take a walking tour of the property while they wait for her, and when she finally arrives, Komachi reveals she has brought some bean jelly from her family’s pastry shop for them to eat, so they proceed to a gazebo on the property to eat and talk. Nozomi and Rin get up to some shenanigans, which causes Karen to laugh a little and enjoy herself, but then she gets down to business and asks why they’ve come. Nozomi hesitates but asks her to join Precure again. Karen is understandably skeptical, and Rin admits that this is the normal response. Nozomi pulls out Coco to help prove their honesty, but a Pinky appears so he instructs Komachi to catch it. Her Pinky Catch instrument is a flute (incidentally, since I think I forgot to mention this in episode 4, Urara’s is a harp), and she almost gets the Pinky when suddenly Bunbee snatches it out of the air and makes his debut in front of the girls. He asks them for the Dream Collet which of course they refuse to hand over, so out comes a mask and he turns the gazebo into a Kowaina. Nozomi leads the girls in transforming, and poor Karen is in over her head.

At that moment, Karen realized she was gay

The four girls fight the Kowaina and have the upper hand, so Bunbee transforms into his monster form. Despite being bee-themed, his armor is mostly red and he has gatling guns on his wrists that he can use to fire a bunch of stingers or one giant stinger. When Cure Mint uses her shield to protect from his barrage of stingers, he fires the giant stinger at them, breaking the shield and leaving the team vulnerable. Karen is watching this from afar and wishes she could help, but she is crippled with fear. Suddenly, a blue butterfly appears and starts flying towards her! Coco tells her to transform, and she doesn’t want to, but she flashes back to all the times she’s carried teams before and sighs, saying she always has to do it herself. The butterfly lands, wraps around her wrist and..... disappears! Everybody is shocked and Karen laments her inability to do anything. Nozomi manages to fire a Dream Attack at the Kowaina, destroying it, and Bunbee retreats with the Pinky.

As the sun sets, Karen tells the four girls that although she believes their story now, clearly she cannot help them, and to please not ask her to join them a third time. Nozomi, not one to take “no” for an answer, declares that she’ll keep fighting to make Karen a part of the team, and the girls walk off. Karen stares longingly at their backs and wonders why she couldn’t transform.

The Analysis

I can only think of two instances in all of Precure where a girl is on the cusp of being able to transform but cannot do it, with the other example being Homare in HUGtto! Precure. It’s a very rare storytelling tool, which makes it all the more poignant. What the audience sees, which Karen needs to learn, is that she wanted to become a Pretty Cure for selfish reasons. She always takes on other people’s burdens, weighing her down, instead of working together to find a solution. We see this during the battle: she is afraid she will get hurt, but when she sees the girls struggling, she thinks she has to take on their burden, to fight instead of them, not with them, which goes against the point of the team: together they can do what any of them individually cannot. It’s okay to want to protect them from danger, but to diminish their abilities and try to take it all on yourself is counter-intuitive. I love the idea of someone failing to become a Precure because their heart is in the wrong place, because it seems like all you see are girls who are put in dangerous situations and rise to the challenge, but not everybody is like that, not everybody can be like that. It’s pretty fascinating.

The looks into Karen’s lifestyle are eye-opening. She has a very strong resemblance to Honoka from FW and MH: she’s from an upper-class background, her parents are always traveling, so she lives at home with only one other person and tries to pretend she’s not lonely. She has one close friend at the start of the show, and is in a position of leadership in the school. on the other hand, Komachi got a lot of Honoka’s more intellectual traits, so you could argue that they split her character into two for this show. Anyway, learning about Karen’s family background helps us to understand why she is how she is, and the journey she has to take both in the next few episodes and over the course of the series. She doesn’t want to make her parents worry, so she has convinced herself that she has to be self-reliant and able to handle any problem on her own instead of asking for help. Also, younger Karen is really cute.

On the opposite end of the spectrum you have Nozomi, the eternal optimist. Nozomi will not see anybody but Karen as the fifth Precure, and she is determined to get her on their team. She knows that if she can get Karen to understand, she’ll do great. But she’s not trying to overrule Karen’s views, she’s trying to make her understand what they’re doing, how, and why. She also wants to understand Karen better, which is why they visit Karen’s house and end up learning more about her lifestyle and background. Of course Nozomi is sad when Karen fails her transformation, but she pushes on to win the fight, and at the end, she says she’s going to try again because she knows Karen can do it. She’s a bit stubborn, and the two girls have that in common, but she’s also deeply compassionate. She sees something that Karen can’t see in herself, and that’s her strength.

This wasn’t her first introduction, but I neglected to talk about her before, so let’s discuss the lunch lady, Otaka-san. She’s a witty middle-aged lady who gives good advice to the students but acts a little frazzled. There’s a running gag where she will add a few zeroes onto the amounts of things, so 200 yen in change becomes 2 million. Her main role in this episode is as a possible candidate for the Precure of Intelligence. Komachi seems to be seriously considering her, but none of the others think it’s a good idea. Later, she sees Karen leaving school very late and comments that she should stop trying to do everything alone, or she’ll never have time to do the things she wants to do. She’ll be a recurring character in this show and she’s fun. Her most distinctive attribute is her raspy voice.

Bunbee is an interesting guy. We’re still very early into his character arc, but already his facade is starting to crack. He wasn’t much more effective in combat than any of his underlings, so it seems like he might be more talk with little to back it up. He still acts very cocky but he might just be the type that enjoys bossing people around. Also, minor note, he shares a voice actor with Uraganos from Max Heart.

Next time on Precure Daily, it’s finally time for the debut of the Precure of Intelligence! Look forward to ti!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 2 kettei!

[criticalbread]

a confused witchy blog post of happenstances

Ever since we’ve moved up here to Oregon, I’ve been finding all kinds of magnificent feathers on my walks. Since the first one, my instant feeling has been, “This is a gift (from the universe/area/Something).” When I walk, only some feathers give me this instantaneous and grateful feeling. Others are just feathers on the ground and I pass them by. I’ve been gifted crow feathers, blue jay feathers, feathers from robins and others I can’t identify. I even found one that I immediately felt wasn’t for me, but for Eagan. Mostly, it’s been crow and little spotted pale brown and beige feathers. The only other time I’ve experienced this is before I left Florida. I was sad to leave the little hawk that lived in our neighborhood and would cry all around our house, land on nearby fences, and occasionally land on our fence (sometimes while I was lucky enough to be in the garden!) Right before I left, I found a perfect feather from my friend right outside the house and felt immediately like it was a goodbye gift. It came with me from Florida, and now it’s been joined by almost two dozen others on my little altar.

Having lived most of my life in Florida with our daily summer thunder storms, I’ve spent the last ten years very aware that there’s something special about the wind at the head of a storm front when it comes galloping up. It’s the most alive I’ve ever felt and ever feel. I honestly think that moments like that might be some of my first spiritual experiences, right up there with being out in the trees and boulders and river at the Chimneys when I was a kid. It doesn’t storm so much up here in Oregon; it just drizzles or pours down dispassionately. I had almost forgotten about my connection to those windy pre-storm moments until it started kicking up on my walk today. Turns out, I’m just as connected to wind in the pines as wind in the oaks. Feels like rediscovering a forgotten sense.

Crows. Crows everywhere. Crows every time I have a revelation or feel a connection to some bigger Presence. I can’t tell if I connect to crows because they represent me or because they represent Something Else. Witchy insight is hard when you’ve forgotten how it works.

Eagan bought me my first tarot deck as a gift last year and every single reading I’ve done-- done rarely, only when a powerful mood strikes-- has been so shockingly on point. After the first one, I said somewhat disbelieving, “It’s just because you see relevance in the cards when you expect to see it.” But then the next, and next, and next, and next... I’m sweatin. I’ve had an intense lesson just recently come from the cards. How far does coincidence stretch? Or seeing what you expect to see? It doesn’t feel casual. It feels very... big.

I just want to get involved with every craft and home project I can. Basket weaving, knitting, woodworking, embroidery, throwing clay, fermenting, sewing clothing, preserving and canning, beekeeping, gardening, composting, more more more. I went from like a solid 15mph with three or four interests to like 100mph need to do it all in just the past couple weeks. I’m itching to be done with this job, move on, to be doing the things that actually mean something to me.

I have been planning for years to get back into Muay Thai because it’s fun and fulfilling to learn to do things with my body. (Also, who doesn’t enjoy throwing a good solid elbow?) I keep falling away from doing it, though, because of money and being afraid my tired, chronically painful body won’t agree. Now, though, I feel that same desire for fun and fulfillment, but also something more, like a calling. This was sticks out to me as odd because this isn’t the same vein as I’ve felt before-- this isn’t feathers and warmth and gentleness and growing things and singing in the kitchen. 

It’s not just crows that I keep thinking about and feeling about and all that. Snakes and cows. I can understand the connection; snakes to the ground and growing things, cows to land and abundance and the warmth of home. They’re such beautiful, sensitive animals. I can talk about their importance to recent human evolution and food culture for hours. Still. Anyone know of a crow-snake-cow deity?

Had a profound moment out on a walk the other day, thinking on what I’ve been reading about healing from emotional neglect as a kid. Thinking about moms and what I missed out on and the deficits in self love it’s left behind. And as I was thinking, “I can’t do the exercise that writer mentioned where you affirm to yourself all the things you were supposed to be taught by a parent, about how you are enough and deserve support and all that. I don’t feel it and I can’t do it,” I felt suddenly like this warm, kind presence was walking with me, surrounding me with love and acceptance, almost replacing the missing mother voice in my head and telling me all those things, “You’re enough, you deserve to be loved by dint of existing, I love you just for being, I want to hear what you have the say and think, I love that you are so passionate, I love that you are so interested and enthusiastic and curious and silly and naive and sensitive. You’re safe with me; I won’t let the world be too much for you. I’ll help you. You can ask me anything. I’m here.” On and one. It was such a startling experience and moving, emotional, Big experience and it lasted nearly thirty minutes as I was just wandering, not even listening to music. It felt like being bigger and smaller than my own skin. Looking back, I get so filled with doubt, thinking it was just wishful thinking, wondering if I really experienced it. But there it is. I feel embarrassed just talking about it because I feel like, well... see the next bullet point.

I have trouble accepting any of these things, to be honest. I used to be so much more open to spiritual things and witchy things. I believed so much more in my own power and abilities, my uncanny insight, foresight, my experiences living in a haunted house for 10+ years. But I didn’t have anyone to connect to who felt similarly, and there were so many messages around me conveying how ‘cringey’ and ‘woohoo’ this kind of stuff was. And then there was being scared as a kid and teen in a haunted house where I was often alone and freaked out by my experiences so once I left I just wanted to turn off and ignore anything like that again (to the point where my reaction to any creepy feelings or paranormal possibilities is to go “nope, not looking lalala i refuse”). I feel like I just shut down my ability to feel and believe in spirituality and spiritual things. So now I’m having all these experiences, not knowing what to think, if it’s real or my imagination, and if it is real how to connect again to what used to come so easily.

can’t think of any other relevant musings. anywho i feel called back to witchcraft and spiritual exploration and think I’m being invited in by Someone but dunno who or how to go about finding out or opening myself up again or anything at all and I’m just very confused and lost. started following a few witchy folks recently, guess that will need to be enough for now. Just need to survive the American dystopia, get financial stable, and hopefully be less stressed and more able to do literally anything.