#more old stuff. this time it's the last i think

[its-avalon-08]

Hello, my favourite Lando Norris writer. Can I request something with Lando where Reader has a son from a previous toxic relationship and Lando thinks she's like hiding something from, like cheating but she confess everything and Lando becomes the dad that stepped up. 🫶

miracle family (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - neglected child, tears, comfort

Lando sat at his dining table, staring at his phone. It had been a few days since he last saw Y/N, and though they’d spoken, something felt… off. She’d been distant, always rushing through their calls, making excuses to cut their time short. He told himself he was imagining it, that she was just busy, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind wouldn't let it go.

He thought back to their last date. They had planned to spend the entire evening together, but halfway through dinner, Y/N had gotten a call. She stepped outside to take it, her expression unreadable, but when she returned, her mood had shifted. Her usual brightness had dulled, and she seemed distracted for the rest of the night.

"Sorry, Lando, just some work stuff," she had said with a quick smile when he asked about the call. He didn’t press further, not wanting to seem pushy, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Then there were the texts. Every time they were together, Y/N seemed to be checking her phone, typing quickly before locking the screen and setting it aside. She never let him see who she was messaging, and when he casually asked if everything was okay, she’d brush it off.

"Yeah, all good. Just a friend going through something," she had said once, her eyes darting away as if she couldn’t meet his gaze.

But the real moment that had started gnawing at him happened the previous weekend. Lando had invited Y/N to one of his races, excited to have her there with him. She’d always been supportive, her energy infectious, but this time, she’d been oddly quiet. When he asked if everything was alright, she just smiled tightly and said she was tired. But after the race, instead of joining him for drinks with the team, she had left abruptly.

"I’ve got to go, Lando. Something’s come up. I’ll explain later, okay?" Her voice had been apologetic, but her eyes… something about them seemed conflicted, like there was something she wasn’t telling him.

He didn’t know why, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone else. Was she hiding something from him? Maybe she was seeing someone behind his back, someone she wasn’t ready to tell him about. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her directly.

Instead, Lando had chosen to observe, watching her carefully over the next few weeks. The phone calls, the quick glances at her screen, the random moments of detachment—it all added up. But every time he was about to say something, the words got stuck in his throat. What if he was wrong? What if she wasn’t cheating, and he was just overthinking everything?

Yet the doubts remained. He found himself scrolling through their old texts late at night, trying to pinpoint when the change had started. He remembered how things used to be—how open and carefree Y/N had been with him. But lately, it felt like there was a wall between them, one she wasn’t letting him break through.

And then, there was that one time she came over to his apartment, looking tired and worn out. She had barely spoken, her eyes heavy with something she wouldn’t share. He had asked her if she wanted to talk, but she had only shaken her head.

"I’m fine, Lando. Just a lot going on."

"Is it work?" he had asked, gently pushing, hoping to understand what was weighing her down.

"It’s… complicated," she had murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Lando hadn’t said anything more that night, but the silence between them had been louder than any words could have been. He had held her close, but even then, she had felt far away.

Now, as he sat alone in his apartment, his mind spinning with unanswered questions, Lando couldn’t help but wonder: was Y/N hiding something from him? Or was it something bigger—something she was afraid to tell him?

Either way, he knew he couldn’t keep pretending everything was normal. Not when it felt like he was losing her, piece by piece.

time skip

Lando strolled through the supermarket aisles, humming softly to himself as he checked items off his shopping list. It was a rare day off, and he decided to take care of some errands. He rounded the corner into the cereal aisle when a small, energetic blur collided with his legs.

"Oh, sorry!" Lando exclaimed, looking down to see a young boy, probably around five years old, grinning up at him.

"It's okay, mister!" the boy chirped. "I was just trying to find the cereal with the marshmallows. Do you know where it is?"

Lando chuckled, kneeling down to the boy's level. "I think it’s a couple of shelves down. What's your name, buddy?"

"I'm Ethan!" the boy said proudly. "What's yours?"

"Lando. Nice to meet you, Ethan," Lando replied, ruffling the boy's hair.

Ethan's eyes widened with excitement. "Like the race car driver?"

Lando laughed. "Exactly like the race car driver."

Ethan's eyes sparkled with wonder. "Wow! My mummy loves race cars! She watches them all the time."

Lando smiled, charmed by the boy's enthusiasm. "Your mum has good taste. Speaking of which, where is she? Shouldn't she be keeping an eye on you?"

Ethan pointed towards the end of the aisle. "She's over there! Mummy! Mummy!"

Lando turned his head in the direction Ethan was pointing, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Y/N standing at the end of the aisle, a look of shock and surprise on her face. She quickly made her way over, her eyes wide with a mixture of emotions.

"Lan?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N, uh baby," Lando replied, equally stunned. "I didn't know… I mean, Ethan is your…?"

Y/N nodded, kneeling down to scoop Ethan into her arms. "Yeah, ummm this is my son, Ethan."

Ethan beamed, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Mummy, this is Lando! He's the race car driver!"

Y/N managed a weak smile. "I know, sweetheart. Why don't you go pick out the cereal you wanted?"

Ethan nodded eagerly and ran off, leaving Lando and Y/N standing there, an awkward silence hanging between them.

"Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?" Lando asked softly, his eyes searching hers.

Lando stood frozen, Y/N’s words echoing in his mind.

“I have a son.”

The bustling supermarket seemed to fade into the background, the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of shopping carts drowned out by the weight of her confession. Y/N stood before him, her hands trembling slightly as she held onto the shopping basket, her eyes wide and filled with fear, as though she was bracing herself for his reaction.

Lando blinked, trying to process the information. “You… you have a son?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief.

Y/N nodded, biting her lip, and that was when her composure began to crack. Her eyes welled up, her breath hitching in her chest as the emotions she had tried so hard to suppress finally surfaced. "Lando, I didn’t know how to tell you. I was so scared you’d leave if you knew. I’ve been hiding it, and I’m so sorry. I—"

Her words choked off as tears streamed down her face. She dropped the basket, her hands covering her face as she sobbed, right there in the middle of the cereal aisle.

“I didn’t want you to think I was hiding it because I don’t trust you, it’s just… Ethan is my whole life. His father was—he was awful, and I didn’t know how to protect us. I’m so sorry, Lando, I should’ve told you sooner—”

But before she could finish, Lando was there, dropping everything as he closed the space between them. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her into his chest as her body shook with sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Lando whispered, his voice soft and soothing. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Y/N.”

Y/N clung to him, burying her face in his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. "I'm so sorry," she cried, her words muffled against him. "I didn’t want to lose you. I was so scared."

Lando tightened his embrace, his hand gently stroking the back of her head. "You’re not losing me. You could never lose me."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her tear-streaked face. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “I wish you’d told me earlier, but I get it. I get why you were scared. But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You and Ethan—you’re part of my life now. I want to be here for both of you.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief and hope. "You really mean that?"

Lando nodded, his voice steady and full of conviction. "I do. I love you, and if Ethan’s a part of your life, then he’s a part of mine too."

Fresh tears filled her eyes, but this time they weren’t from fear or sadness. They were from relief, from the overwhelming realization that she wasn’t alone anymore. "Lando… I don’t even know what to say."

“You don’t have to say anything. Just… trust me, okay? We’ll figure this out together.” He pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly as her breathing slowly steadied, her sobs turning into soft sniffles.

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet chaos of the supermarket, Lando knew that nothing else mattered. Not the people passing by, not the curious glances from other shoppers. All that mattered was Y/N and the promise he had made—to be there for her, to be there for Ethan, no matter what.

And as he held her, he realized that this was what love was about. Not just the good moments, but the hard ones too—the moments where you drop everything to be there for the person you love, no questions asked.

At that moment, Ethan came running back with a box of cereal, his face glowing with excitement. "I found it, Mummy! Look!"

Y/N and Lando both laughed, the tension dissipating as they turned their attention to the enthusiastic boy.

"Great choice, Ethan," Lando said, giving him a high-five. "How about we go check out and then grab some ice cream?"

Ethan's eyes lit up. "Yes, please!"

As they made their way to the checkout, Lando glanced at Y/N, his heart swelling with love and commitment. He knew that their journey together wouldn't always be easy, but he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. For Y/N, for Ethan, and for the family they were about to become.

--- extra scene p.s.a - abusive partner ----

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the park, Ethan ran ahead to the playground, his laughter filling the air. Lando and Y/N watched him for a moment, their hands intertwined as they sat on a nearby bench.

"He's really something," Lando said softly, a smile playing on his lips.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fixed on Ethan. "He is. He's my whole world."

Lando glanced at her, squeezing her hand gently. "Y/N, can we take a walk? There's something I want to talk to you about."

Y/N looked at him, a hint of worry in her eyes, but she nodded. "Sure, Lando."

They stood up and began to walk along the path that circled the playground, the sounds of children playing fading into the background.

"Y/N," Lando began hesitantly, "I want to understand more about Ethan's father. About what you went through. But only if you're ready to talk about it."

Y/N took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around Lando's. "It's… it's not easy to talk about. But you deserve to know."

She paused, collecting her thoughts as they walked. "Ethan's father, Mark, was… he was charming at first. But it didn't take long for his true colors to show. He was controlling, manipulative, and it only got worse over time."

Lando's grip on her hand tightened in silent support as she continued. "He would get angry over the smallest things, and his anger… it was terrifying. He hurt me, Lando. Physically, emotionally. I stayed because I thought I could change him, that things would get better. But they never did."

Y/N's voice broke, and she wiped away a tear that had escaped. "When I found out I was pregnant with Ethan, I knew I had to leave. I couldn't let him grow up in that environment. I was scared, but I knew it was the right thing to do."

Lando stopped walking, turning to face her. "Y/N, I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you. You're so strong."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face now. "I don't feel strong, Lando. I felt broken and alone. But I had to protect Ethan. I had to give him a chance at a better life."

Lando pulled her into a tight embrace, his own eyes glistening with tears. "You did the right thing. And you're not alone anymore. You have me, and I'll be here for both of you. Always."

Y/N sobbed against his chest, the weight of her past finally lifting as she felt the warmth of his love and support. "Thank you, Lando. Thank you for being here, for understanding."

He kissed the top of her head, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you, Y/N. And I love Ethan. We'll make this work, I promise."

They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the world around them fading away. When they finally pulled back, Lando gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Let's go back to Ethan," he said softly. "He's probably wondering where we went."

Y/N nodded, a small but genuine smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, let's go."

As they walked back to the playground, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of hope and peace that she hadn't felt in a long time. She knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with Lando by her side, she was ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

[warping-realities]

What She Wants

I know I promised the previous one would be the last one for a while but I had a video that I not use in one of the last stories and ended up creating a shorter one just so as not to waste it. I hope you like it.

Cherisse was pissed off. At her old schoolmates and at herself. The five-year reunion was coming up next weekend, and she was gonna have to show up all alone. She never really gave a damn about this kind of stuff, always focused on her career. But then, why the hell did she lie about having a boyfriend? She knew why—those bitches Brenda and Destiny with their pathetic little housewife lives and their useless husbands loved to say that because she was a bodybuilder, no guy would wanna date her. I mean, what kind of dude would go out with a woman bigger than him? That thought made her wanna scream, but those bitches had a point. Even the male bodybuilders ended up choosing curvier, less muscular women, which really pissed her off. The fact that she was so close to becoming a big star in the bodybuilding scene should’ve been enough to ease her doubts, but it wasn’t. In reality, she was so fed up with everything that she dropped her apartment key on the floor of the hallway in the tiny building she lived in, thanks to her job as a Personal Trainer. At least for now, since she had contracts lined up with several big brands by the time she stepped on Olympia stage in a few months, which was what she should’ve been worrying about. Frustrated and angry, she picked up the key from the floor and stood up, only to see David, her neighbor, walking by. The blond thin and extremely cute guy worked at a nearby coffee shop and was always super polite to her, even though any flirting attempts on him had been shot down.

She knew she couldn’t make him like her or… could she? Remembering the times she got shot down by the guy, combined with the frustration about the upcoming event and the possibility of being ridiculed by her old classmates… all of that lit a fire inside her that made her decide to take action. She’d been warned a bunch of times not to mess with her gift, that it could spiral out of control and come with a high price, but she was tired of being the good girl, tired of being humiliated. It was time to think about herself. She will get what she wanted.

….

After a long day at the coffee shop, all David wanted was to flop down on the couch in his tiny one-bedroom apartment and chill, and maybe, just maybe, look for a hookup on Grindr. After throwing on a tank top and some shorts, he was about to head out of his room when he heard a noise—there was someone else in the apartment. Creeping up to the door, he was freaked out and jumped.

“Cherisse, what the hell! What are you doing here? What you want?

“What I want, David? I want my boyfriend!” The muscular black woman replied, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Yeah, I want my boyfriend, David. My boyfriend who loves me and would do anything for me!”

“Cherisse… you’re out of your min…” David started to say, cutting himself off as a weird sensation flooded his body, like he was about to choke, making him gasp for air. Then he was shocked to hear his own voice while his mouth moved on its own.

“But that’s what you already have, babe.”

“Not enough! I want my boyfriend, bigger, more muscular, and stronger than me.”

The choking feeling hit him again, this time harder, along with a dizzy spell that made David wobble for a second. After a few seconds, he seemed to recover. With his giant biceps and powerful pecs on display, he looked a few inches shorter, with shaved hair and a square face, wich smiled to Cherisse.

“Stronger and more muscular for sure, and two inches taller!”

“No, I want more! I want my bodybuilder boyfriend, way bigger than me, my boyfriend with beautiful dark hair and a darker skin.”

In an instant, the bodybuilder David underwent a transformation, turning into a caramel-skinned version with brown eyes and well-kept dark hair and beard, maybe of Latin descent.

“Much better! Take off those shorts and pose for me, David!”

He obeyed, stripping down to just his underwear and flexing his powerful muscles for his girlfriend to see.

“Yummy, but I still want more.” She commented licking her lips without noticing the change in her voice and vocabulary. “I want my boyfriend with delicious choclate skin as dark as mine. My professional bodybuilder boyfriend, Mr. Olympia material boyfriend. My boyfriend who fulfills all my needs and will accompany me to my school reunion, and make all the jealous bitches shut up they skunk mouths. Now come, come to me, my love,” she said, as the uncontrolled power took over completely.

As the muscular giant, who minutes ago had been a gay dude just looking for a casual hookup, walked from the bedroom door towards her, with each step he took, he grew larger while his skin darkened to a chocolate tone. His pecs looked like two slabs of meat, his abs lost some definition, but his arms swelled to the size of tree trunks. As sweat dripped down his body, his black wavy hair transformed into small curls in a stylish cut with shaved sides, while his underwear turned into gym shorts, and the tiny apartment room morphed into a spacious mansion living room.

While all this was happening and the power dominated Cherisse’s mind, she didn’t notice that her short hair, which had fallen out due to steroid use started to grow back in beautifull well manteined curls while her voice gained an airy melodious tone. As the former David grew bigger, she shrank, her powerful muscles becoming smaller but defined, while her glutes became curvier and her breasts softer. Then, as the monstrous off-season bodybuilder stood smiling in front of her, her clothes evaporated, leaving her in a tiny bikini that showcased all her perfect curves. Finnaly the whirlwind of power seemed to reach its peak before fading away forever while the reality reset.

The smile on the behemoth's face quickly vanished when he noticed his girlfriend posing in the middle of their living room.

“Can I ask what the hell you’re doing, Cherisse?”

“Babe… I… I thought you’d be back later.”

“I decided to surprise my girlfriend, and guess who’s getting surprised? Don’t tell me you’re back to that ridiculous idea of competing in Bikini Fitness. I’ve already been clear with you about that. You don’t need to work, especially not by exposing your body; I’m the one who takes care of all my wife’s needs.”

“Wife? What do you mean?”

“Well, that was the surprise I was gonna pull on you, but it looks like…”

“Stop being silly, I was rehearsing, yeah, but it was just for you, my love.”

“Now you’re talking like my future wife,” he replied, with his smile returning.

….

That weekend, Cherisse was bursting with joy. As her boyfriend parked the car, she rushed over to meet her old school friends, Brenda and Destiny, in the garden of the beautiful restaurant they class picked for the high school reunion. After some kisses, hugs, and excited squeals, Brenda looked at her curiously.

“Is that on your finger what I think it is?”

“Yup!!! He proposed to me!!”

“So, we’re finally gonna meet your boyfriend… sorry, your fiancé?”

“Yeah, look over there,” Cherisse said, making her friends look at the handsome specimen of a man strutting confidently towards them—300 pounds of pure muscle covered in a beutifull chocolate skin, wearing a light gray suit with a vest and a shirt whose last buttons could never stay closed, showing off a gorgeous chest. All of this was topped off by a rugged face that could make knees weak.

“Girls, this is Deshaun, my fiancé,” she said, knowing the others would be dying of envy.

Later, as her friends walked in, Deshaun pulled her close.

“Are you happy, my love? I know how important this reunion was for you.”

“Happy? I’m totally fucking ecstatic, babe. I showed those bitches who’s the best. I’ve got the best house, the best body, and the best man. What more could I want?”

[googleitlol]

If Dove's store went into the Lmk universe/storyline, how whould dove react to Mk? And Wukong being put into another circlet??

I'm sorry for how off the rails this ask is going to get, I'm including a lot of other stuff besides your questions cuz I've already thought about this a lot.

@marcu-bug and I have brought it up to each other before, and in LMK… Dove is reincarnated. Will I explain why?

…Not yet :D

For this, Dove is sort of like a maternal figure to MK (He's got so many dads, why not add a mom friend?). I have a oneshot planned where I'll go more into her character, but I imagine in the lmk universe, she’d be a paramedic that usually stops by Pigsy’s for lunch. Dinner too if she’s had a long day. Which is most days.

She definitely gets a lot of those ‘worried-parent’ feelings around MK and Mei, with how often they go jumping at the chance to do dumb shit. She’s seen a lot of things, but dear lord do those to take the cake for number of calls she’s had to respond to. Actually, that’s probably how she first discovered the noodle shop, responding to a call Pigsy made when Mei took MK for a ride on her motorcycle and they crashed. I imagine like an old bartender, Pigsy would listen to her rants about her shift with Tang enjoying a bowl next to her. Being a paramedic is tough, having her gift is helpful but sometimes Dove is running into hostile situations on the job. Sometimes she sees something that shakes her, but Pigsy and Tang are there to listen at the end of the day. It also helped her to unwind by hearing Tang tell MK all about the Journey to the West and the Monkey King. It'd be a lie to say she wasn't a little intrigued by his stories, just a bit.

She joins the monkie gang when the pilot begins and helps out when she can, and funnily enough, Red Son gets pretty uncomfortable around her. Not that she gets to join her friends too often, and for a very specific reason. Sun Wukong. At first, Dove thinks he's a generally cold guy, he's always on his mountain, doesn't socialize much, and he's pretty standoff-ish around her. But after seeing how he is with MK, she quickly realizes that isn't the case.

Okay, he's just an ass, then. A confusing one, at that.

It seems like Monkey King will do whatever it takes to avoid her, but at the same time, he pushes himself into her life in the most frustrating ways imaginable. Nearly anytime she's invited to do anything fun with her friends or go on any sort of adventure, she gets a call from her building manager that something is leaking in her apartment, or a strange call from her boss asking if she can do another shift last-minute, only for them to be none the wiser about ever asking her to do that. Dove didn't realize who was behind these strange happenings, but when she figured it out, boy was she pissed.

It's not uncommon to see Dove and Wukong arguing, much to MK's dismay. She just doesn't get why he's decided to hate her, he doesn't even know her! One time, he asked her to help a monkey of Flower Fruit Mountain that needed medical help, but when she got there, he left her stranded on the mountain while he went on vacation! Dove couldn't see the mainland for days until MK and Tang visited the mountain for a separate reason about some giant dumpling. It doesn't get much better when the team has to go looking for the Samadhi rings. If anything, it gets worse. Monkey King is so aggravated to even have Dove with them, she'd half-expect that he wanted her left to be frozen in the city with Lady Bone Demon! He doesn't want her anywhere near the ritual where they form the fire. The unfriendly behaviour doesn't stop until, well, Amnesia Rules…

When Monkey King loses his memory and gives her this look of shock, the last thing she expects is for him to scoop her into his arms with the tightest hug she's ever experienced. A flip switched in his attitude towards her, and it's made all the more confusing after he explains that Pigsy is Zhu Bajie and Tang is Tang Sanzang

"Who do you think I am, then?"

"You're my one and only, Love-Dove!"

She's not sure what's worse, that god-awful nickname or the fact that he thinks he's in love with her! Although, as the day goes by… she can't say she's unopposed to seeing this much friendlier side of him. Even if she only got to see it for a little while.

It likely wouldn't be until Wukong is about to face LBD that he finally admits to her why he was so upset about her being there, how she was the reincarnation of his one and only love. A love he lost, in a way that he could only blame himself. He couldn't bear the thought of putting her near harm's way again, not when their mission revolved around a power that was responsible for her past life's death (I might go into it in another ask/post, this is getting long)

After learning all of what they'd gone through in her past life, Dove is… apprehensive, to say the least. Some of his actions from the past, they make sense to her now, but it doesn't make her forgive him completely. Still, she remembers how Sun Wukong was when he had lost his memory… she would like to see that side of him more.

It takes them time to get past their rocky start (these two can never just start off liking each other smh), but in time, Dove starts to see more of that side she'd seen during Amnesia Rules. And she starts to fall for him all over again. He tells her about her past life, their time together on the journey, all of it. He admits how he robbed her of immortality… and how she tricked him into wearing the circlet. Their ups and their downs, he tells her everything. By the time season 5 rolls around, they're happy together. He's even offered her an immortal peach from the tree he's grown on FFM, so that he can finally make up for the mistake he made all those years ago.

Then… Li Jing puts the circlet on Wukong, again.

The moment Dove finds out, she's furious. How could they hurt him like that again?! Wukong tries to put her mind at ease, but it takes a lot to calm her down. "It's fine, Dove… I was honestly pretty disappointed. He put it on and just left, at least you were creative about it back in the day." That night, in the back of Sandy's van, Dove is littering his head in kisses, she can hardly imagine how painful it must feel. You best believe the moment they see Li Jing chasing them, she's aiming whatever she can find straight for his head. If he thinks he can induce some magic migraine on her man like that, she'll find a way to pay back the favour, tenfold. Nobody touches her Sun Wukong but her.

[astrangetorpedo]

IN INTERVIEW

Julien Baker, the interview 6/8/2016

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

Hello Julien!

Julien Baker : Hello!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you were writing?

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

Were your parents musicians?

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

This is really great!

Yes I know !

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

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

Do you want to teach one day?

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

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

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

Are you familiar with French literature?

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

Is he your favorite writer?

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

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

I love TORRES!

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

Wow! She's amazing!

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

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

I totally agree!

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

The same !

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

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

Do you know David Banzan?

Nope…

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

Yes of course !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes !

How do you feel?

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

Is it the time difference or the excitement?

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

And that's just the beginning!

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

Are there any particular places you want to discover?

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

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

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

You'll sleep when you get home!

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

And what are your plans for after the European tour?

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

Will you come back to Europe?

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

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

Lucy Dacus!

Oh I love it!

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

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

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

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

Thank you! It was great!

photos by jean-marc ferré 📸

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

wayback link for the interview 🔗

[harksness]

Agatha Reader Insert Blurb (SFW)

Ok idk how many ppl are gonna read this but pls I would love for this to be a bit of a discussion for how people would apply this to themselves/their little pleasures.

Agatha is really good at staying up to date with things as the times change. She needs to make sure she fits in so she doesn't rouse any suspicion, right? So she has to, for survival. Fashion trends, politics, current events, and so on she's on top of.. But she's not good at staying up to date with music. She's horrible about it. You needed to explain everyone from Nirvana to Britney Spears to Billie Eilish to her.

When the 70s hit, she fell in love with that era and hasn't left it. The Cure, Elton John, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, (heavy on Fleetwood Mac), and she just hasn't really kept up since. She's listened to Rumors on repeat since it was released. (Just from vibes alone I feel like she'd love Dreams and probably crushed on Stevie Nicks.)

When you two start dating and you realize this, you think it's so cute. You listen to all of her favorite albums and songs, and love to listen to her stories from the concerts she's gone to. She ends up being a bit of a music dork, she loved going to concerts back in the day but as her favorite artists grew older and slowed down with touring she stopped going to shows.

So you introduce her to more music to bring that love back out of her. (Going off of my favorite musicians) she loves Weezer (Only in Dreams!!), Green Day (LAST NIGHT ON EARTH??), Bastille (Icarus, The Anchor, Warmth??) Chappell Roan, and unexpectedly, Britney Spears!! Also specifically Dragula by Rob Zombie. ("Dig through the ditches and burn through the witches" it should be her badass theme song lmao) (Feel free to add on in the comments w your favorite artists + songs you think she'd like!!)

She'll always go back to her old music taste, but you do notice her peppering in some songs you introduced to her and humming Pink Pony Club to herself.

You bought general admissions tickets to see your favorite artist and surprised her with them. And she's so excited, a wide smile on her face and eyes scrunched up in the cutest way. She looks up the set list to make sure she knows every song.

Because even though she's really good at staying up to date with most things, some stuff slips through the cracks. Or she doesn't have time for all of it. But it's easy for you to see just how much she enjoys discovering things she's missed out on, curiosity seeping through her voice as her wondering eyes light up with interest and it just really tugs on your heart. So you're always trying to find little things she doesn't know about yet.

Poptarts? She's like tf are those let me try them now. She loves the cookies and cream flavor but can only eat one because she thinks they're too sugary. You show her your old DS from when you were young? She gets addicted to Animal Crossing, Agnes is her favorite villager and she loves having you sit and watch her play. Tik Tok? She gets weirdly into Reddit stories. She tries to deny it and calls them stupid while she goes to find part two. Then continues to gossip about the story with you. Then points out everything that makes it obviously fake. (Add any more in the comments that relate to you or you'd just see from her!)

I just feel like Agatha has devoted over three hundred years to magic and big, huge things and adventures that she never gets to really indulge in the little pleasures in life. She has a lot of them to catch up on. While she tries to deny having any interest in it, she really does love when you show her the fun, pointless little things she's missed out on and just a sweet way the two of you really bond.

[gellavonhamster]

the wolf and the moon

Turn: Washington's Spies || Caleb Brewster/Benjamin Tallmadge || unspecified fantasy/magic AU ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2017 but I didn’t attempt to translate it into English back then. 

You must not be afraid of the changes that I've made

I have come now to bring you away

To our bed that I have made with the seven stones I've laid

And covered in the finest of clay

Lay your head upon the ground, you shall never be found

I will guard against dangers that be

Until dawn comes around you must not make a sound

And I swear you will forever be with me

(Birch Book – Werewolf’s Eyes)

Looking back, Ben is utterly angry at himself for not catching on to what was happening to him until it was too late.

First he notices all smells become sharper. Gunpowder, sweat, horse dung, damp earth, campfire smoke, hair pomade. Hundreds of smells that were not as distinct before surround him in a smothery cloud that seems dense enough to spoon it up like fat broth. Ben frowns, dizzy with this suffocating mixture, and steals furtive glances at the others, trying to find out if they feel the same, but everyone is acting like everything’s normal. He does not dare to ask, suspecting how strange that would sound. The other officers keep their guard up with him as it is – sure, he’s well-mannered and all, but still, heaven knows what to expect from those magicians.

On the last night before the full moon, he blows out a candle in his tent, and suddenly realizes he can see perfectly in the dark. Then he begins to understand – although just what, not how. If he was bitten, he would have remembered it – or would he not? Leave it to Rogers and his men to wipe out his memories. Everyone knows his unit is made up of only those endowed with at least middling witchcraft powers. It is for this reason that much later Ben is so surprised to find out that Jordan – that is, Akinbode – has joined the ranks of Rangers. It is odd and upsetting to know that all those years someone else in Setauket was able to do magic apart from the four of them, and they had not the slightest idea.

It might be that the bayonet he was wounded with was soaked in something. Werewolf’s blood? Werewolf’s saliva? The next day, Ben all but runs to his tent each time he has a minute to spare and leafs through his papers frantically, his own notes and torn-out book pages alike. His command of sorcery is much poorer than imagined by most people in their army, Washington included. Compared to those who couldn’t even deal with a simple spell, he’s a magician indeed. In truth, however – and being aware of it has never made him feel as dejected before – he’s just another self-taught amateur. If what is happening to him is exactly what all the evidence suggests, then he is helpless. All he can do is steal out of the tent when it gets dark and the moon’s silver disk starts to glisten behind the clouds, and rush towards the forest. He manages to put on a smoke-and-mirrors spell so that no one notices he’s gone; at least he’s good enough for such trifles.

He makes it to the woods in time – as soon as he steps into the thicket, he convulses with excruciating pain. A bayonet is like a mosquito bite compared to that; worse, finishing off his brother in arms so as not to give himself away in front of Rogers and his band of warlocks is like a mosquito bite compared to that. It feels as if huge invisible hands are kneading him like dough and sculpting his flesh and bones into something else, ugly and unnatural. Ben struggles to keep his mouth shut, but he still screams.

Then he howls.

Then he’s racing through the woods surrounded by thousands of smells, which don’t seem as obnoxious as before, and he feels good – as good as never before, especially compared to that terrible pain earlier. The moss is springy under his paws and the air is fresh, and the blood of the hare he caught is hot and tastes better than any food he’s ever tried. There is no trace of the fear that has weighed down on him that entire day. How could he be afraid of this?

But when he wakes up at dawn in the depths of the forest completely naked, shivering with cold, his human face smeared with blood, the fear returns.

And the night after it proves itself justified.

***

After the second night, Ben returns to the camp, slips into his tent, falls down on his knees and howls and howls more than he did at night in honour of the full moon.

He has only vague memories of what happened. A dark silhouette sneaking through the woods. A jump, a loud cry, the cracking of neck vertebrae. A blue uniform torn to pieces. A warm throat in his maw. All of it blurred, befuddling; an unpleasant dream right before waking up. But what he saw in the morning he remembers clearly – and will never forget.

He’s not throwing up. He’s choking on tears, he’s shaking with disgust, but he’s not throwing up at all. God, why isn’t he throwing up from the thought of having gorged himself of human flesh last night?

Ben forces himself to get up. His body moves as if by itself – and is it his own anymore, really? Or is the only body he inhabits now that of a wolf, for which that nightmare is just another hunt, and not the most heinous crime imaginable? He keeps looking around the tent dully, until he understands that the thing he needs, the only thing that can save him and the others, is already at hand.

He cocks the pistol and puts it to his temple.

“No!”

An unseen force wrenches the pistol from his hand and throws it into the corner. A shot rings out – in vain.

“You shot a hole through my wall,” Ben says, tired. He doesn’t turn around; he can’t look Caleb in the eye, not after what he did last night. But Caleb is beside him in a blink of an eye, grabs his hand painfully, and makes him turn around – and then he has to look.

Ben isn’t sure he’s ever seen Caleb in such rage before.

“Screw you, Tallboy,” Caleb spits out wrathfully, looking up at him. “Have you lost your mind? What the hell was that?!”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s easier just to blow your brains out, right? Ben,” the tone of his voice changes, and so does his look, and now Caleb is looking at him with a desperate plea and fear and concern, and Ben wants to push him away and shout at him leave, I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve a single drop of your worry, leave. “What’s going on?”

Ben wants to push him away – and yet he cannot.

“You’re going to hate me if I tell you.”

“No,” Caleb says firmly.

That’s what I fear, Ben thinks.

When he comes to the part about him killing someone – no, not just killing but half-devouring him, tearing him to pieces to the point of barely being able to make out the face in the morning, not a familiar one yet still striking horror and grief into him – he realizes he’s crying again. Ben wipes off his tears with his sleeve violently, hoping that Caleb doesn’t think he’s asking for pity. Pity he does not deserve. All he deserves is the pistol, now picked up off the ground and lying on the table, in wait for its hour. Ben knows what he’s going to ask of Caleb when he finishes his story. Ben is tormented by an almost complete certainty that Caleb will refuse him.

“We-e-ell,” drawls out Caleb when Ben is done. He was listening with uncharacteristic sobriety, but with no apparent fear, and that is wrong. He ought to be scared. “What was that poor devil even doing in the woods at night…”

“Caleb, what’s the difference?”

“Was he tryin’ to desert or what?”

“What. Is. The difference?” Ben draws back and stares at his friend with outrage. “What of it if he was? Even had it been a redcoat – Caleb, I bit a man to death! Tore out his throat like he was a rabbit!”

“Hush,” Caleb raises up both hands as if trying to shield himself from Ben’s voice. “Quit yelling. Here, drink,” he fishes a flat flask of Madeira out of the inside pocket of his coat, and pushes it into Ben’s hands.

“Right,” he begins as Ben drinks, gagging and coughing. “So we have to figure out what to do with that trouble of yours.”

“I’ve already figured everything out, and I was trying to do just that, until you barged in.”

“And thank God I did! Ben, I won’t let you kill yourself!”

“Then you will have to kill me,” Ben retorts, and takes the pistol from the table. “In the woods, now. Let’s go.”

Caleb stares at him in horror.

“No.”

“Lieutenant Brewster,” Ben raises his voice and holds the pistol out to Caleb, “that’s an order!”

Caleb takes the pistol and throws it aside – not by magic this time, but simply by hand.

“Stick your orders where the sun don’t shine, Captain,” he replies, his chin defiantly up. “Listen to me. We’re both magicians, right? We’ll figure it out and no one will have to shoot anyone. I’ll figure it out.”

Ben is silent. He’s scared of death, because he knows for sure he’ll go to hell – a magician, even though the church has a complex stance on magic; a killer, even though everyone kills at war; a werewolf, even though not of his own volition; a sodomite, even though he hasn’t ever dared to proposition anyone. He hates himself for this weakness, but he really is scared, man and wolf inside him alike. Besides, the army needs him, Washington needs him, his friends whom he dragged into another risky business need him. Of course he would prefer to stay alive – but he doesn’t see any conditions under which it is possible without subjecting others to mortal peril.

“Trust me,” Caleb says quietly, resolutely. He stares at Ben, imploring him with his warm, always so endlessly warm eyes, and Ben gives up.

***

At night, Ben returns to the forest, and the wolf returns home.

He throws off the scruples of conscience together with his former appearance. Only a tiny part remains, caught on that scrap of human sentience that still remains with him. That scrap causes him pain, but it also brings him hope – hope that strong as the wolf might be, it cannot beat Benjamin Tallmadge. He’s still here, with his guilt and his fear and his remorse, and he has no intention to leave this head.

But the wolf’s hunger is strong, and now, when the wolf has already partaken of human flesh, it’s all the more dangerous.

The camp is asleep. Only the sentries are walking to and fro, small figures barely distinguishable from the edge of the woods. Ben – no, the wolf, that’s all wolf – looks at them and makes a step forward.

A noise behind his back makes him turn around.

It’s a bear. Not the biggest there is, but undoubtedly still bigger than him. Ben bares his fangs, but is in no hurry to run away. It is the first time he sees this bear, the first time he sees any bear, but this one smells like something very familiar, something like home, and for the wolf it is enough not to be afraid of it.

The bear approaches him, extends a foreleg the way a person would extend a hand to point at something, and growls as if calling him somewhere. Ben turns to look at the sentries again.

The bear growls louder and gently nudges him with its paw, and Ben gives up.

Together they disappear deep into the woods, and then they hunt down a big deer, and its meat tastes almost as good as the meat of that young man – deserter or not – that Ben recently murdered.

When Ben wakes up as a man, he realizes two things. The first is that at night he managed to return closer to the camp, because the gnarled oak under which he’s lying is well familiar to him.

The second is that someone’s lying by his side, hugging him at the small of his back.

Ben detaches himself, pushing off the hugging arm, and sits up abruptly.

“Caleb,” and of course it’s Caleb, naked and muddy like him, with leaves and tiny twigs in his hair and beard. “Caleb, wake up!”

“Why are you yellin’, why d’ya always have to yell?” Caleb mutters drowsily, and bats Ben’s hand away when Ben tries to shake him by the shoulder. At last he opens his eyes and sits up too. “Morning, Benny.”

“Morning?” Ben is positively at a loss. He certainly doesn’t like the most obvious explanation – that is, that Caleb followed him through the woods last night, at the risk of being mauled by a beast that does not care who Benjamin Tallmadge’s closest childhood friends are. “Caleb, how did you get here? How did you find me? Did you go after me last night or what?”

“Yeah,” Caleb shrugs, stretches, and gets up, and Ben does his utmost to look away. Caleb pulls clothes, his own and Ben’s, from a hole beneath the oak roots, and throws him his shirt. “Spent all night with you, don’t you remember?”

When it dawns upon Ben, he is halfway through putting his shirt on, and his sudden shudder almost results in him tearing it.

“You’re out of your mind,” he hisses, leaps to his feet too, and grabs Caleb by the shirt. If someone catches them like that – away from the camp, scantily clad – it won’t be easy to explain themselves, but this is not what he’s worried about at present. “I thought you promised to figure out how to stop the wolf!”

“And I did,” Caleb replies nonchalantly, struggling to pry Ben’s fingers away from his sleeve.

“By becoming the same thing as I?!”

“I’m not the same thing, Ben! You were turned, I turned myself. You become a wolf, I keep a man’s mind in a bear’s body. A curious ritual, I learned about it in Canada,” Caleb covers his hand with his own and grins with delight. “Was eager to try it out for some time, see if I could handle it.”

Ben could say a lot about Caleb’s flippant attitude towards magic, but he has long understood that in some cases, it is no use wasting his breath.

“And how is this going to help up?” is all he asks.

Caleb smiles. Every time it gives him laughter lines; this mirth is going to make him all wrinkles when he grows old.

“Weren’t you lickin’ your lips at the sentries last night? But you didn’t go to them. You went with me. I’m stronger and bigger, I can hold you back if needed,” he gives Ben’s shoulder a friendly slap. “As long as I’m with you, you won’t hurt anybody.”

No, thinks Ben, but if neither you nor I are strong enough to resist our respective beast, there will be even more victims.

***

Strange as it may be, it works out. From one full moon to another, their lives are nearly the same as before – the military affairs, the spy ring business, magic-related or not. The bear guards the wolf against hunting in the camp of the Continental Army. Lieutenant Brewster guards Captain – now Major – Tallmadge against going mad with self-loathing and self-abhorrence.

Nathaniel Sackett, a seasoned magician, gets to the bottom of it at once.

“You need a suitable amulet, young man,” he says, looking over Ben with the curiosity of a scientist who has caught a peculiar bird. “Then it will be easier for you to control yourself. You’ll even be able not to depend on the full moon and transform whenever it is convenient for you. Like your friend here.”

“Convenient?” Ben echoes, frowning. “It will never be ‘convenient’ for me, sir. It is not about my convenience, but about the safety of others.”

“But you could be useful on the battlefield in this, hmm, capacity.” Sackett doesn’t seem to notice Ben’s indignation. “Haven’t it occurred to you?”

“No,” lies Ben.

Sackett clicks his tongue. “I’ll see what could be done.”

“He’s insane,” whispers Ben in frustration, when Sackett leaves to meet Washington.

Caleb shrugs. “All magicians are a bit out there,” he points out philosophically. “Just look at the two of us. Though we clearly have a long way to go compared to him.”

“Oh, it’s all fun to you, isn’t it? You furry blockhead.”

“No furrier than you,” Caleb replies good-naturedly.

If it was not for his cheerful nature and eternal unshakeable faith in them being able to get through it all, the wolf would have long gnawed down Benjamin Tallmadge’s soul.

***

The amulet that Sackett hands him looks like a flower or an open pine cone – petals made of different species of wood, and a silver core.

“Put it around your neck on the full moon. And don’t you dare take it off even if it hurts. And it will hurt,” he instructs. “Concentrate on the memories of home, family, friends, loved ones – everything that makes you human. Brewster shall watch over you. I believe it sensible for him to do that in his bear form, to be on the safe side.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ben says ardently as he takes the pendant.

The first night of the full moon, he doesn’t succeed. The amulet hurts him indeed – like pressing a hot iron to his chest. Ben musters all his strength, but in the end he cannot bear it, and tears the pendant off. On his chest, a red print remains. That night he howls at the moon desperately, and Caleb lies in a pit and watches him and waits patiently for him to cry it all out.

The following night, Caleb ties him to a tree.

“Are you sure?” he asks for the last time.

Ben snarls.

The moon comes out, and the amulet bites into his skin, into the still-raw yesterday’s burn. Caleb shucks off his clothes and shapeshifts. Ben still cannot get used to how awful the transformation appears to an onlooker – the body mashed and spread and bent, the limbs twisting unnaturally, the fur growing out in an instant. Ben is well familiar with the kind of pain Caleb is experiencing, but even it seems like nothing compared to the one caused by the amulet.

Sackett told him: when he subdues the wolf, the pain will cease.

Sackett told him: keep thinking of what makes you human.

Through pain, Ben reminisces his father and his late mother, his brothers, their sweet old house and the neat small church in Setauket. The memories of home seem like the memories of a past life; none of this exists anymore. The British soldiers sit in their church. Samuel is dead. Nathan, whom he also reminisces, whom he could never forget, is dead as well.

The silver burns his skin, the tree bark scratches even through the shirt, and the wolf inside him howls in pain. It is hard to focus on anything but pain, yet he tries.

Father. Abe. Anna. Washington.

Happy New Year, Tallboy.

Caleb, his sleepy smile, the warmth by his side, the arm on his waist.

I won’t let you kill yourself.

Ben screams until he suddenly realizes that the pain has passed. The bear lying next to him raises his head and nuzzles against his thigh.

The night after, he stares at the moon with human eyes, the amulet pleasantly cooling his chest.

***

Little by little, he learns – not only to trap the beast inside, but also to let it out when it is his own wish, not that of the skies above. When the moon isn’t full, the hunger isn’t as strong, and he need not fear that his feet – his paws – would bring him to the camp; not that Caleb would let that happen, anyway. What he is the most afraid of is losing the amulet in the thicket; he keeps Sackett’s notes, in which it is explained, among other useful things, how to make one, but that would require a long time and a variety of materials that would be hard to come by.

Little by little, he learns to accept that he likes it – the quiet of the woods, the moonlight, the wind singing in his ears, the delicious night air, clear as spring water. The thrill of the hunt and the lazy bliss of fullness. Falling asleep with his nose pressed into the coarse brown fur; waking up with his cheek pressed against Caleb’s chest. Something completely unthinkable and still completely natural, as if someone decided way before they were born that they would sleep best like that – nestled up to each other, not a scrap of clothes between them, the all-forgiving starlight above.

Sometimes Ben is grateful to Rogers for cursing him.

Once, having woken up at sunrise, he goes through the memories of the past night – now that his animal form is subject to the amulet, it is much easier to restore them. They killed a deer and feasted on the hot meat, and then fell down to the ground, sated and tired. The bear tumbled on his back spread-eagle, rolling about funnily and flattening the moss. The wolf climbed on top of him and nipped at his nose. Both had snouts and paws covered in blood, and they licked each other for a long time, played like pups, until the wolf fell asleep and the bear must’ve fallen asleep after him.

Ben, having carefully disentangled himself from Caleb, gazes at him and thinks absentmindedly that the dark hair on his chest and belly looks like animal fur. And that the wolf has already fallen asleep, retreated into the farther corner of his mind, and yet he still wants to lick.

Ben has no idea if beasts are prone to the same sin as some men, including him, but he knows that a wolf cannot and would not think of mating with a bear. The shade their night-time games acquire in his eyes does not come from the wolf, which cannot tell right from wrong. It comes from Benjamin Tallmadge, reverend’s son, the honorary virgin of the entire Continental Army, who’d rather die than admit why he never joined his fellows on a visit to a brothel. He remembers Caleb telling him that the ritual lets him keep a human mind in a beast’s body. Ben is not sure it is still so; Caleb turned without him present several times, stayed alone with the bear, and sometimes Ben worries that confident in his power, he might succumb to his second nature entirely. Still, what Ben would like to know most of all is what Caleb the bear, or Caleb the man in a bear’s frame, thought when he ran his rough tongue over Ben’s belly.

He daren’t ask, but in the evening, when they already can sleep peacefully in the camp because the moon has begun to wane, he comes to Caleb’s tent. The candle is blown out, but Caleb, who is now able to see in the dark perfectly well, like Ben, is still awake.

“Tallboy, what is it?” Caleb asks anxiously when Ben enters and carefully closes the tent flaps. “Has something happened?”

Ben steps up to him, heart beating so wildly as if it is going to break out of his body, and tilts his head to lick Caleb’s neck, animal-like, and then kisses him on the lips, as people do.

Caleb sighs loudly, his eyes closed, and leans to kiss him back.

He growls, leaning on Ben with all his weight on the cot too narrow for two, and Ben bites Caleb’s shoulder when he comes, but apart from that they have no reason to blame all that on the animals in their heads.

That night, Ben presses his snout – no, his face – to Caleb’s neck, and sleeps even more soundly than in the open air.

***

Gradually, the truth comes out. Not all of it, fortunately; not about the two of them. And not about Ben, in contrast to Caleb, being turned against his will, not being able to control the beast at first, and tearing a fellow soldier to pieces on top of that. Everyone believes Ben made the decision to turn in order to become a more dangerous foe to the British army. Washington thinks so. Everyone thinks so. Ben is in no hurry to change their minds.

On the battlefield, both of them are of more use on two feet, with weapons and spells ready, but a couple of times, when ambush is required, they face the enemy in their other bodies. This is enough for the British to start talking about them. As Ben learns from Townsend, casting a spell to communicate with him through a bowl of water (at the end of the conversation, Townsend, icily polite, asks him if he could henceforth warn him somehow before appearing in his washbasin – if it is not too much trouble, of course), the blue-eyed wolf even gains some grand nicknames in the enemy camp. The General’s Cerberus, Washington’s Hellhound. The fact that Ben, lofty manner notwithstanding, is still considered to be a dog is insufferably amusing to Caleb. The latter, however, is not accorded anything more sophisticated than the Shaggy Devil or the Hairy Devil or similar variations on the theme of the devil and bears. Ben likes to respond to Caleb’s dog-related teasing by saying that Caleb’s human appearance is as deserving of these names as the animal one, if not more.

In the camp, they’re respected, yet given a wide berth – both of them, even the ever jovial Caleb, and that continues when Anna joins them. The soldiers are intrigued by her, but also intimidated – which is not unwise, to be fair, considering she’s always been the most skilled magician among the four of them. Washington’s coven, soldiers whisper. A witch and two warlocks – only Abe is missing from the set.

Ben is glad Anna is with them – not just because he needn’t worry she might get in trouble away from her friends, but also because they need a safeguard. He’s reached an understanding with his wolf, and Caleb has been in tune with his bear from the start, but at the end of the day they are still wild beasts. He makes Anna a copy of the instruction on how to make the amulet from Sackett’s notes, and tells her to always keep a pistol with at least two silver bullets at hand to stop him or Caleb if worst comes to worst. Or (he doesn’t say that, though) to stop Caleb first and then, regardless of circumstances, him. An amulet is an amulet, but Ben cannot shake off the feeling that the lion’s share of his control over the beast is tied to Caleb’s presence.

He has heard somewhere that wolves mate for life anyway.

“I just hope I won’t have to use it,” says Anna with a sad smile, accepting the pistol.

“You won’t have to,” Caleb says with confidence and hugs her by the shoulders. “It’ll be alright.” Ben looks at them, and the wolf in his head curls up snugly and falls asleep.

[xskyll]

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First

[anothermonikan]

Ponee (It is half 3 in the morning)

[liquidstar]

Oh fuck tomorrow I'm going to be a little birthday boy I keep almost forgetting

[carcarrot]

well the poll hasnt ended yet but im sorry once again to those of you that wanted me to be more responsible. im seeing those bitches again as close as i possibly can

[hiis-theme]

somewhere out there is an alternate timeline where toby was correct and people actually did hate spamton. could you imagine that. i have to imagine we wouldn't have gotten the spamton sweepstakes in that case which is crazy to think about given how much lore that gave us-

[voidimp]

long day yesterday but i found a couple of my favorite old plushies

[batsplat]

casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that

oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...

yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?

anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:

like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual

uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think

[thatchaotictiefling]

OH WAIT I FORGOT TO POST THIS!

I title this: Smoking is cool and all 7 year olds should try it.

My DND OC Violet (shadow monk/rogue) in a baseball pinup sort of vibe, I'm obsessed with her. Heavily inspired by my time in the TF2 fandom and a certain type of scout art.

Violet hits things with a stick until they die too, so it kinda fits lmao. I may do more inspired by other TF2 classes? We will see.

ID in alt text

[strigital]

so a new yearly adventure 'bout to drop and half of the players are already simping for ithelia while another half is grieving her boring design. me? i'm more interested in the fact that zenimax gave us a lore-friendly way to make our own dardric prince ocs and uuuh lemme just grab a sketchbook real quick and cook up an opposite to mepahala and probably/possibly her twin whose sphere are energies of the afterlife, death and being the shepherd of the undead and the restless dead 👀 and maybe a babygirl of a dardric prince who is the opposite of hircine and oversees the wild beauty of natural world, shapeshifers, sentient trees and talking animals, and mysteries of wild magic and secrets of the untouched wilderness, who has the bottom half of a deer whereas hircine has a head of an elk🦌 ooh! maybe even some opposite to namira whose domain is beauty, poetry and all that is aesthetically pleasing and dreamy and nice who may look like one of those fairies with butterfly wings all over them 🧚‍♀️

anyways, feck the lore, i'm here to 100% milk herma mora's ability to just "conveniently hide" entire dardric princes outside of reality thus making any and all stupid little dardric blorbo ocs we make "technically lore-friendly"

[medicinemane]

Should make a pain killer that actually kills (or even touches) pain