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andilovetowrite · 3 years

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The Spidey Suit

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Everyone has wanted to try on the iconic suit of Queens’ superhero, but when you have an opportunity to actually do it, you land yourself in a bit of a sticky situation…

Warnings: Suggestiveness, but nothing too bad. A couple of bad words and a ton of flustered Peter.

Word Count: 1.2k

Here is my Masterlist, as well as the request it is based on! Thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoy it :)

“Hey Ms Parker”, you exclaimed, walking into Peter’s apartment. May smiled, quickly hugging you as she ruffled your hair.

“It’s May, Y/N. Ms Parker makes me feel old!” she says jokingly as you laugh.

“Well, can’t have that”, you say, laughing along with her. “How are you?”

May shrugs, her eyes getting a far-off look. “Oh, it’s fine...with Peter having Spider duties in the night and work starting late, I have a ton of time on my hand.”

You smile coyly, remembering what Peter told you before he came to pick you up on a date last week. “Oh, so you have enough time for a relationship? With a certain jolly man? Or was it Happy?”

You giggle, watching May’s face turn red, as she waved you off. “Oh shush! It’s nothing. Who told you?”

“Peter did. You should’ve seen his face!”

“Oh no!” May says, groaning. “Happy and I are not in any way dating!”

Sure”, you say, extending the word as you take off your jacket. “Also, speaking of Peter, where is he? Still out?”

May nodded, gesturing to his room. “Yeah, he is, but you can stay as long as you want...he should be back in about 30 minutes anyway.”

You smile, nodding. “Thanks, May. Any plans for the evening?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

“A dat- Uh, nothing. Just-uh hanging out with friends. Yeah, yep, that's what I’m going to be doing”, she says, and you understand where Peter gets his nervous stuttering from. You stifle a laugh as you nod at her, heading into Peter’s room.

Opening the door, you jumped into his bed, marvelling at how the room was so much more cleaner tonight. After getting the superhero gig with the Avengers, Peter had a ton of new gizmos and tech. Not only was his room always littered with new tech toys from the tower, but it was just usually messy. With college and his Spider-Man duties, there wasn’t a ton of time to pick up dirty clothes from the floor. At least, that’s what he says.

So it was a pleasant surprise when everything was spick and span, well...except for his closet. It was an utter mess, with the door overflowing with jumbled up pieces of clothing. Scrunching your eyebrows, you walked over, eyes widening when a mountain of shirts and jumpers fell out.

“What the hell?”, you muttered, noticing how they were just thrown in. Peter must’ve been in a hurry to find something, but what would it be in his closet-? “Aha”, you said, seeing something hanging off his bed.

The old Spiderman suit. Well...wasn’t really a suit, more like a hoodie made by Peter months ago. You picked up the red hoodie, smiling at the hastily drawn spider logo in the middle. You knew Peter was Spiderman soon after he had started fighting crime...being his best friend and all. But you only saw him when he had the “Mr Stark suit”, so you had never seen Peter in action with his old one.

But looking at it now, you felt a magnetic pull to it. Walking over, you hesitantly picked it up, fingers smoothening over the soft fabric, the tears and cuts, the stains still leftover from fights. Biting your lip, you look around, staring out the window as you brought up the suit to your body, wanting to see how it would look on you.

Having a superhero boyfriend was great since he saved people and all...but it was even better when you saw him in action wearing a skin-tight suit. You weren’t half as strong as Peter, but you desperately wanted to try it on, just to get a feel of what it would be like. Plus, it looked sooooo comfortable, despite the wear and tear of it.

Quickly looking around, and closing the door, you shed your shirt and shorts, pulling on the red and blue garment. “Holy shit”, you whispered, peering at yourself in the mirror. “This is awesome” Turning sideways, you pulled your wrist up, trying to figure out what was pressing into your skin, but as your fingers brushed against a small button, thick white liquid shot out of the compartment.

You gasped as you were pulled through air, landing smack in the middle of Peter’s bed. “Oh no”, you whispered, trying to pull yourself free but failing in doing so. The web. You didn’t realize it was still in there, but now you were in a sticky position. Literally.

May could easily walk through the door and see you in Peter’s old suit, which would thoroughly embarrass you. Or even worse, Peter comes in and sees you fidgeting with his belongings. Although he was the sweetest, most caring person on the planet, he had a strict rule about not letting his personal life interfere with his superhero life. And you might have just bent that rule a little… The best thing was that you just waited it out. This was probably the old web, which dissolves in an hour or so, which would be an awful lot of time, but it was better than anything else.

Sadly, the universe didn’t want to agree with you tonight, because, in less than 20 minutes, you heard the familiar THWAP of the web as Peter came swinging in through the window.

“Karen, I am so exhausted toda- What?”, Peter said, looking shocked at you sprawled across his bed, a familiar blue and red suit loosely covering you.

“Hey Peter”, you said weakly, “I’m really sorry about the sui-”

“You look so hot”, he whispered out loud, blushing bright red at his statement. “I-I mean-um...uh hi Y/N”

All your worries melted away as you saw Peter’s face, your heart squeezing as you stared at his stuttering, pink face. Ridiculously handsome face. “H-hey Pete. I just came in a while back and saw th-this and I just wanted to try it….”, you said, trying to gauge his reaction before continuing. “So I might have worn it, and mistakenly shoot out a web that was still in there, which is a terrible idea by the way!”

Peter laughed as his eyes roamed your body, walking over to get some dissolvent, but stopping halfway. “So, in conclusion, I might have gotten a teensy tiny bit stuck”, you said, smirking lightly. “Care to unravel me?”

Peter scoffed, walking over to you. “First you touch my stuff, and then get yourself in a sticky situation on my bed...and now you expect me to just let you out love?” He came closer to you, whispering hotly in your ear, “I think not Ms Spider, in fact, I’m going to let you be there for the next two hours as it dissolves”

You looked up at him, challenging him. “Two hours huh? Didn’t think it would take that long...I would think Spiderman’s web would come off much quicker”

Peter simply chuckled, “Oh sweetheart, Spiderman’s web won’t come off for a long time...might as well get ready for a long night”

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Wow, got kinda spicy at the end...but yeah. This took so long to write, purely because of my lack of motivation, but I hope you enjoyed this! Hopefully, I’ll have another ff out in the next couple of days :) Please send me a message or comment on this post if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @a–1–1–3 @hayhays

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365days365movies · 3 years

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Sports September I: Bull Durham (1988) - Recap (Part One)

I really want to get more into baseball.

Which is a weird statement, I know. If I like it so much, why am I not already into it? Well, I’ve only just recently started showing an interest in the sport. After all, I’m an American. And there are few things more stereotypically American than the “America’s greatest pastime”.

And I’ve been surrounded by baseball my entire life. My uncle is a huge fan of the Mets; I’m living in a Red Sox state, despite being Yankee trash; I played baseball as a middle school kid, and I genuinely enjoyed it, now that I think about it; and one of my absolute favorite films as a kid (and as a nostalgic adult) is The Sandlot. I mean, of course. Ain’t nothin’ as iconically nostalgic ‘90s as The Sandlot. And yet, as a kid, I knew about as much as the sport itself as Smalls did.

Sure, I know a bit from playing and watching movies like The Sandlot, The Kid, and Angels in the Outfield (almost forgot about that one, holy shit). Nine innings, three strikes and you’re out, bunting the ball, catcher, pitcher, innuendo (in-your-endo), outfield, infield, home run, three bases, me getting hit in ear when I was up to bat that one time because a kid from my old school was going up against us and kept distracting me while I was up to bat, but I got a goddamn walk from it, so IN YOUR FACE BERNHARDT (not his real name)

So what turned me around on the sport? Why do I now want to learn more about one’s of this country’s oldest and greatest traditions? And the answer is easy:

BASEBALL HISTORY IS CRAZY AS FUCK

Now, there’s a LOT of baseball history. Hell, documentarian Ken Burns made a critically-acclaimed and long-ass PBS series about it (that I have yet to watch, but REALLY WANT TO). So, there being some weird-ass shit in the history of the sport isn’t exactly a surprise. But, like...baseball concentrates it somehow. Don’t believe me? Here are some of baseball’s greatest hits PUN ENTHUSIASTICALLY INTENDED:

The high-five was invented (INVENTED) by Dusty Baker and Glenn Burke of the Oakland A’s in 1977, after celebrating Baker’s 30th home run on the field. Burke was a gay African American man, the first openly gay baseball player in MBA history. And as a result, the high five gained its initial prominence as a way for the LGBT community to greet each other. YEAH! How’s THAT for a fun fuckin’ fact?!? I love it

17-year old pitcher Jackie Mitchell was the first female pitcher in professional baseball history, and was so fucking good, she struck out both Lou Gherig AND Babe fuckin’ Ruth!

Jackie Robinson was NOT the first Black American major league baseball player. Nor was Moses Fleetwood “Fleet” Walker, often called the actual first Black baseball player. No, that would actually be William Edward White, who played for the Providence Grays as a substitute pitcher in 1879. He was also the only baseball player to have been a slave. YEAH.

Enough history, time for the crazy shit. Bill Veeck was a baseball team owner who LOVED sensationalism. He would give away live animals to random audience members, ranging from chickens, to lobsters, to FUCKING HORSES. He gave anyone named “John” a free ticket for a game. He hired the first little person as a pitcher...although that’s a little on the shittier side, given the context, but I digress. He was HATED by other owners, and this culminated in the absolute clusterfuck that was 1979′s Disco Demolition Night. It began with a promotion for free tickets if you brought a disco record to be destroyed. It ended with a riot, the visiting team fleeing in fear, and a crowd that contained 30,000 more people than Veeck expected, most of whom were fucking SMASHED. It’s a fucking glorious moment in baseball history, and I’m BARELY covering the chaos here. Check it out, it’s fucking NUTS.

You want some chaos? I WILL GIVE YOU CHAOS. In 1974, the Cleveland Indians held a promotion known as Ten Cent Beer Night. You now know part of the problem. The other problem was that there was a limit imposed on how many beers could be bought in a single purchase...but not how many purchases one could make. The result? Streakers, mooning, a middle-aged woman walked onto the field and flashed the pitcher like a confident queen, and EVERYBODY rushing onto the goddamn stage, causing the players to beat them off WITH BASEBALL BATS. Jesus Christ, how could this get crazier?

Yankees Pitchers Fritz Peterson and Mike Kekich...switched wives and kids. I’m not even gonna elaborate on that, THEY SWITCHED FUCKIN’ FAMILIES. It...it gets crazier, but I have somebody else to talk about...

The best for last. There was a man, a beautiful majestic man, named George Edward “Rube” Waddell. My man “The Rube” was one of the greatest pitchers in baseball history, TO THIS DAY. He was also A WALKING TORNADO OF WHAT THE FUCK.

Rube Waddell chased fire engines. Yeah. If he was on the mound and a fire truck drove by, he left the mound (IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GAME) and chased that fucker down. He wore red clothes beneath his uniform just in case, despite never being a firefighter.

Fans of rival teams caught onto this, and were able to draw Rube off the mound with puppies and shiny objects. AND IT WORKED. AND I AM NOT FUCKING JOKING. This behavior almost ended his career. Well, that and...

He would sometimes disappear, only to be found bartending at a bar nearby the stadium. He did not work at these bars; he just spontaneously tended at them. He would run into the stadium, then change into his uniform while going through the stands! I’m gonna credit him with inventing streaking.

He wrestled alligators as a job in his off-seasons.

At some point during the off-season, he was bitten by a lion, A FUCKING LION, and NOBODY KNOWS HOW OR WHY. WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK I LOVE THIS MAN

And, again during the off-seasons, Rube once saved 13 people from drowning IN A SINGLE YEAR. This dude was ridiculous, and somehow also a hero. And this heroism would eventually lead to his death from pneumonia in 1913, exacerbated by the previous year of saving people during a catastrophic flood.

NOW DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

...Oh, right, Bull Durham.

This movie, directed by Ron Shelton and starring walking, mumbling piece of cardboard Kevin Costner, is considered one of the greatest sports films of all-time. It’s also potentially based on a true story, which just fuels my interests more. I just watched The Battered Bastards of Baseball on Netflix last night, so I’m super into historical baseball films at the moment!

With that, let’s go! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap: Part One

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We’re treated to a Ken Burns’ style introduction, as we’re brought into the fold by baseball fan and groupie Annie Savoy (Susan Sarandon), who loves baseball SO MUCH that she makes an effort to fuck every baseball player she can, provided that they’re actually good. Yeah, there’s a whole diatribe about this, and her worship at the all-hallowed Church of Baseball. And honestly...I’m already sold. It’s very effective, and I’m ready for some worship.

At this Church, in this case being the Durham Bulls Athletic Park, in North Carolina, we’re treated to the dancing and clowning of fuckin’ Max Patkin, the Clown Prince of Baseball, and a real actual baseball clown, performing for audiences since the 1940s. Yeah, didn’t know baseball clown was fuckin’ thing, didja? God, I love this shit. Patkin even worked for Bill Veeck, AS THE COACH FOR THE CLEVELAND INDIANS! Also, that team really needs to change their name, but anyway. Genuine piece of baseball history here! Fantastic!

Making his debut in the stadium that night is Ebby Laloosh (Tim Robbins), a rookie pitcher with a fantastic fastball, and a lackadaisical nature. He’s late for the game, as he’s having a bit of a romp with Millie (Jenny Roberston), daughter of the owner of the stadium. She’s friends with Annie, and she helps to measure the speed of balls thrown by the pitchers.

The game against the Peninsula White Sox commences, and Ebby...Ebby is an absolutely shitty pitcher, holy shit. His speed is extremely high, but his accuracy is non-goddamn-existent! He throws the ball into the stands, the announcer’s booth, the mascot’s fleshy body, a batter’s ass...it’s not a great experience, or demonstration of his skill. Annie and Millie watch this, with Annie passing notes to the coach of the team, Joe “Skip” Riggins (Trey Wilson).

At the end of the game, Skip and assistant coach Larry Hockett (Robert Wuhl) summarize the game, and Laloosh’s unrealized potential, saying he has a “million-dollar arm with a five cent head”. At this point, they’re greeted by disaffected twelve-year veteran Lawrence “Crash” Davis (Kevin Costner), whom they’ve brought there to try and reign Laloosh in, while teaching him some semblance of accuracy. However, David is REALLY disaffected, and refuses at first...until immediately agreeing to come in as catcher.

That night at the bar, Max Patkin is talking to Annie, and introduces her to Crash Davis. Now that Annie has begun her pathway towards Inevitable Love Interest (because that’s obvious), she also gets introduced to Laloosh. They briefly scuffle over dancing rights with her, until Annie just ends up dancing with Max instead, as it should be.

Even then, Laloosh prompts a fight with David outside, like a proper dick. But Davis dares him to hit him not with his fists, but with a ball. He guesses that Laloosh is going to miss, even at that range, and he guesses correctly. An enraged Laloosh goes up to hit him, only to get fucking LEVELED by Davis immediately, and he FINALLY introduces himself as the teach catcher. Not bad, Crash.

Although, I have to say one thing...Kevin Costner is still Kevin Costner. He’s...not not the most emotional actor, y’know? He’s actually the exact opposite, and remains one of the driest actors I’ve ever seen. How he’s been successful this whole time, I have no idea. And, like, Max Patkin’s not exactly a great actor, but he’s at lest more convincingly emotional than Costner is at any point. I...I might not be Kevin Costner’s biggest fan. I mean, he’s not bad in The Untouchables, and I guess he’s fine in Dances with Wolves, but...have you SEEN Waterworld? Jesus.

Anyway, after learning lesson number one (”Don’t think.”), they head back inside. Annie invites them both to her place, setting up what is definitely not going to be the source of future conflict. By the way, this is a good time to mention that Annie has this thing she does. See, she selects one specific player to be with throughout the course of a baseball season. And by all indications, her selection progress is, uh...thorough.

As she details this to the pair, and the fact that they’re the two prospects for the season she’s chosen, Crash shows doubts. He leaves, but not before challenging Annie’s beliefs with his own beliefs about matters of the heart.

I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman’s back, the hangin’ curveball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a Constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, softcore pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve, and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days. Goodnight.

...Huh. That’s a hell of a speech. Annie agrees, and asks him out on a date formally. He refuses, which intrigues her further, and bids tonight to her and Laloosh, whom he calls “Meat”. As he goes to walk through the town, Annie ties Laloosh to the bed under the pretense of having sex, then just reads Walt Whitman to him. which is, for the record, goddamn hilarious.

The next morning we meet a few more of the ball club members, including the devout Jimmy (William O’Leary) and the Santeria practicing Jose (Rick Marzan). Laloosh comes in to the locker room and reveals both that they didn’t have any sex that night, and that he has a new nickname given to him by Annie: Nuke. Nice name, honestly. Soon after, we get to see the team in action. At bat, Crash has some difficulties at the bat, which we also hear him his inner monologue. Makes sense that he understands Laloosh’s problems, given his own internal monologue. However, he ends up getting struck out, and this is noticed by Annie, who tells him what he’s doing wrong with his swing. He replies with a note of his own, and the two meet at the batting cage the next day.

At the batting cages, Annie seems to have chosen Nuke for the season, with Crash having had his chance. Crash is a little frustrated by this, and tells her off a bit, but the two become friends. This is directly followed by Nuke and Annie having sex, only for her to accidentally call him “Crash”. Yeah, ILE status incoming.

The season progresses, and we get to know more of the team, as well as see some stunts on the field, like dropping money from a helicopter that a bunch of little leaguers are sent to grab. Some real Bill Veeck style shit, which I can dig. All the while, Crash tries to help Nuke out (and tells the opposing batters what pitches he’s throwing specifically to teach him a lesson), but the arrogant Nuke doesn’t listen at first. But eventually, he starts realizing that Nuke actually knows what he’s doing. And he starts improving...slowly.

The Bulls head out on tour, during which Crash reveals his 21-day stint in “the Show”, AKA the Major Leagues. As always, the arrogant Nuke tells him off, taking taking umbrage both at Crash’s advice, and his repetition of the nickname “Meat”, the origin of which is still unrevealed. They get into a fight on the tour bus, which is quickly broken up.

Crash’s comment about Nuke wasting his Major League potential is true, though, as his pitches keep getting hit, and the team keeps up a losing streak as a result. Dude really needs to get his shit together and listen to Crash and Annie. As a result, the team’s morale is low, and Nuke’s morale is especially down. One night, Crash takes a group of the players to the stadium, with a plot to get a rainout for the game the following night. He does this by breaking into the stadium and setting off the sprinklers a bit to early, flooding the field.

That night, Nuke has a dream of the entire stadium laughing at him on the mound, as he’s only wearing a jockstrap and Annie’s garter belt, which she gave him to wear for good luck (and to take his ever-present mind off his pitches). This is on the way back home after their less-than-successful foray out of Durham. In a reunion with Annie, he reveals his frustrations, and she tries to give him advice of her own. And for once, he actually takes it, as well as Crash’s advice. He even wears the garter belt, but goes through a bit of straight guy panic.

But even that has the desired effect, as Nuke actually has a good game! In his own head, he’s even calling himself “Meat”, despite not knowing the origin of the name. As does Crash, although he’s been doing well the entire season, unsurprisingly. Even still, he cant resist sabotaging one of his pitches one more time. But with that, the winning streak begins.

Great place to pause! See you in Part Two!

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 4 years

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Episode 12: Internal Affairs

Not going to lie. I know some people hate this episode but it’s one of my favourites.

SPOILERS AHEAD.

0:14 - Sure. Let’s start this episode off by shoving a knife through my heart. Look at Malcolm’s broken little face. :( He knows Gil didn’t deserve that outburst. Gil knows it too - but it still to hear. This episode aired months ago and I think my heart is still trying to heal.

0:20 - Look at Dani’s inner conflict here. She loves both of these doofuses and she can’t decide who to go and comfort.

0:30 - Dani just figured out that Malcolm is hallucinating. She knows what he looks like when he hallucinates from 1x5. Now she’s scared. So is Malcolm. Look at their eyes. Mmmmhmmm. This is good whump.

1:30 - This is Gil being a total dad to Malcolm. He’s already forgiven the idiot for being a jerk last night. Now he’s helping Malcolm put on his tie like Malcolm is 12 years old. You can see that Gil is still a little annoyed with Malcolm but I think it’s probably based out of concern. Gil’s scared because he knows Malcolm isn’t sleeping and he knows Malcolm’s mental health has been spiralling lately. He’s terrified because he knows that Malcolm (unintentionally...sort of) tried to kill himself last night. Gil’s scared that Malcolm is entering active suicidal territory as opposed to his usual passive suicidal territory. Maybe Malcolm’s behaviour is also reminding Gil of a time when Malcolm was suicidal as a teenager? Gil’s probably worried about the investigation too and how Malcolm’s mental state will affect it.

2:21 - Malcolm walks into that interview room and just starts exuding manic energy. Yikes. This boy looks tired, scared, manic, and determined. He needs a nap and a hug. This will not go well.

2:54 - “I’m not sure I have a safe space.” There’s a couple of these types of lines that Malcolm lets slip during this interview. Every one of them scares me because they’re completely true statements that Malcolm would never normally share out loud. Especially since he knows the room is wired and the team is listening. He doesn’t want them to think he’s weak. He doesn’t want Gil to make him stop working. It sheds a light on just how fragile his mental state is and that is just heartbreaking.

3:10 - So everyone knows that Malcolm uses humour as a coping mechanism for his trauma and pain. Good to know. Check out Malcolm’s face right after he says, “What else did they warn you about?”. He looks scared and a little confused. Almost as though he wasn’t entirely aware that he used humour as a coping mechanism and he’s afraid of what else the team might’ve picked up on regarding his mental state. He’s scared that if the team knows too much about what’s going on with him, he won’t be allowed to work anymore.

3:25 - Total side note here. Every time I watch this episode I have to do a double take because for a moment I think Dr. Coppenwrath is played by Marc Evan Jackson (Kevin in Brooklyn-99, Shawn in The Good Place). It’s not, but try telling that to my sleep deprived brain.

3:36 - Soooo was the room wired for everyone’s interview of just Malcolm’s? Because JT just verbally admitted that he’s friends with Malcolm. Does this mean the Malcolm has access to recorded evidence that JT is his friend? This is character development I can get behind. Look how far their relationship has come since the pilot. I’m so proud and so happy.

3:45 - Malcolm was in the hospital for “weeks”. I really want to know exactly how much time has passed since the end of 1x11. Also. How the hell did someone keep him in the hospital that long? The boy seems to like signing himself out of hospitals AMA. AND WHAT HAPPENED TO WATKINS?!?!? and why is no one giving me a scene of the team visiting Malcolm in the hospital?! This is the scene that my heart wants.

4:04 - It physically hurts me to watch Gil say “Watkins tortured you”. Kudos to Lou Diamond Phillips. Gil looks wrecked - almost like he’s trying not to cry. He probably blames himself for the extent of Malcolm’s injuries because he didn’t find Malcolm sooner. He’s probably remembering just how scared he was when he showed up at the Whitly house to find his kid bleeding out from a stab wound (in my headcanon Gil is the first responder on the scene and he finds all three Whitlys upstairs).

4:09 - hahaha that look. Gil is like “you can’t lie to me you little idiot” and Malcolm immediately back peddles. hahaha this is a true father/son moment. I love it.

4:25 - One of the reasons that I love this episode so much is because it makes me feel an array of emotions. I go from worrying about Malcolm’s mental health to laughing at some stupid comment one of the characters makes. I mean seriously : “If Bright was an actual state he’d be Florida.” hahahaha that is iconic.

4:42 - Yep. Malcolm has reached peak mania. He’s ranting about jello with a very manic expression on his face. Which is kind of adorable but also very concerning.

4:47 - OMG. This whole Elsa/Jessica/Dani/Malcolm scene is amazing. Jessica is so extra here and Malcolm is done with it. Really makes me wonder what Jess was like when he was in the hospital. AND look at Malcolm’s broken little face when Jessica mentions his “more unruly nightmares” he’s so embarrassed and ashamed. :( AND DANI. OMG. Every time the camera pans to her she just has this perfect expression on her face like “This whole family is whack. I feel like I’m intruding but also I kind of want to be here because I sort of care about this loser?”

6:44 - I love how the whole team is showing their own personal brand of concern for Malcolm when he shows up at the scene. Malcolm reacts so perfectly to it. He looks a little overwhelmed that they’re all concerned. Like he was only expecting Gil to care.

7:00 - I’ll say it again. Someone needs to show my dude Gil some love. This man needs a break. Look how utterly exhausted he looks when he says “100%”. Ugh. This man worries way too much about his kids.

7:14 - hahaha the look that Gil gives Edrisa here. hahaha he’s so shocked and annoyed that she knows the details of Bright’s injuries because she pulled his medical records. I love it.

7:31 - The way Gil sort of directs Malcolm to the crime scene with his arm concerns me. By the look on JT’s face - it concerns JT too. That arm is a signal of defeat. Gil is resigned to the fact that Malcolm just won’t take care of himself. Gil is too tired to send Malcolm home again especially since he knows that Malcolm won’t rest. So, Gil is giving in because at least this way he can keep an eye on Malcolm. BUT the fact that Gil gives into this is not a good sign for Gil’s mental health. THIS BOY NEEDS A NAP.

7:53 - Check out the way Malcolm’s eyes narrow when Coppenwrath insinuates that Malcolm’s “patients” help him understand himself because he too is a killer. This is a bad therapist move right here.

8:19 - I love that JT teases Malcolm when he’s concerned about him. It’s really sweet. SIDE NOTE - Malcolms shoes are nice. Dang.

8:46 - Check this out. Is Gil even listening to the profile? He’s staring at Malcolm with so much concern that I’m not even sure. While they are at the graveyard Gil does not look at Malcolm with anything but concern. Gil knows that there’s something more than Watkins going on with Malcolm right now.

9:30 - That is a haunting look. Malcolm looks numb. Dissociated.

10:14 - Malcolm almost looks like he’s having fun here? He’s lying through his teeth, living in a manic state but he seems to be enjoying the conversation. So that’s good, I guess?

10:32 - The look Malcolm just gave Coppenwrath is awesome. It’s a look that suggests that Malcolm is profiling the hell out of Coppenwrath right now and what he’s learning is really interesting to him.

10:38 - Is Coppenwrath allowed to know this much about the investigation? I mean, I thought he was evaluating Malcolm’s mental health - not the current case? He doesn’t really need that many details about the case.

10:57 - Awww. Gil going to bat for Malcolm is so sweet. <3 My heart is full.

12:02 - ....why does Gil know so much about the Vosler institute? Previous case? Advertisements? #justcurious

12:20 - Is Malcolm talking about himself here? He’s definitely guilty of a low self-worth and some schizotypal thinking. Has he been tempted by a cult?

13:54 - Is Dani checking Vosler out? I can’t tell if she’s amused that he’s such a bad liar or if she thinks he’s hot.

14:15 - Was Malcolm at the institute at the same time as the rest of the team? Wouldn’t they have seen him?

14:51 - Myers-Briggs is a personality test. How the hell would that identify how much trauma you have? ...but I’m not a doctor so what do I know?

15:30 - I feel like Gil is in an actual therapy session ranting about his dysfunctional, passively suicidal son. Gil looks almost comforted as he vents about how Malcolm can’t sleep. He still looks concerned for Malcolm but he looks less scared and more calm. I feel like this was a good experience for Gil. It’s allowing him to process just how bad Malcolm’s mental state is getting. Maybe we should get Gil a therapist.

15:37 - Things are getting too real again; so Malcolm is deflecting with humour.

15:43 - Again. If Coppenwrath was actually evaluating Malcolm’s mental state he wouldn’t care about Vosler. He wouldn’t keep asking Malcolm to tell him about the case and specifically about Vosler. Coppenwrath is so obviously hiding something. Ugh. It drives me crazy.

16:03 - That was honest. “I want it to go away.” Malcolm looks sincere, a little scared, and a little desperate. It breaks my heart.

16:53 - The fact that Malcolm let Vosler shock him is so upsetting. I know Malcolm is desperate to solve the case like usual. However, this time he’s disregarding his own health just a little too obviously for comfort.

17:15 - Look at how terrified Malcolm is as he gets shocked. Look at how much pain he’s in. Yet, he still finds it in him to glare at Vosler. I’m kind of proud of him?

17:41 - Malcolm is being sincere here. He really, truly doesn’t think he’s vulnerable to Vosler. Malcolm doesn’t seem to have self-awareness to his own low sense of self-worth. He’s so depressed that he doesn’t recognize how bad he’s getting. He’s just desperately trying to get answers and make trauma go away without addressing the side-effects of his trauma. My. Heart. Is. Shattering.

17:52 - This scene is another one of those moments when Malcolm unwittingly reveals a little too much about his mental state. He’s being honest with Coppenwrath when discussing his motivations to solve cases. It’s problematic because he accidentally admits that he values the lives of complete strangers over his own health and well-being. Someone please give Malcolm a hug.

18:43 - Another instance where Malcolm is acting like an amazing, kind, empathetic human. Look at how much compassion he has in his eyes for Andi. He so desperately wants to help Andi and it’s beautiful. Malcolm Bright (a man who is currently suffering in a self-destructive, manic, pain-ridden state) has transformed into a calm, sympathetic, comforting, level-headed guy. It’s amazing. He’s somehow able to shed all of his trauma and poor mental state and become 100% pure, untraumatized Malcolm Whitly. Gorgeous. A++.

21:35 - This. Ugh. Just. Just. It’s freaking perfect. “But I didn’t want to lose him.” Gil you are straight up breaking my heart. Look at how sincere Gil is right now. You can see just how much he adores Malcolm and how desperately Gil wants Malcolm to be happy, healthy, and safe. Ugh. I’m in love with this moment.

22:03 - I love how JT holds Malcolm back in this scene. As soon as Malcolm starts running out to Vosler both Dani and JT look concerned. JT grabs Malcolm but the way he holds Malcolm back is also sort of a hug. It’s not the way JT would hold back a stranger or a suspect. That’s the way you hold back a little brother. <3

22:10 - “She was taken by them”. Malcolm looks terrified here. He looks haunted, suspicious, and confused. It’s heartbreaking. Gil and JT look a little alarmed and concerned too.

22:12 - Gil is looking at Malcolm with pure dad!panic here. He’s watching Malcolm unravel and he looks scared, concerned, and a little angry. I’m mildly shocked that Gil didn’t call Jessica to come and take Malcolm home.

22:34 - “Okay. I wasn’t fine. I’m a mess.” This one hurts. I mean, I’m proud of Malcolm for being at least a little self-aware. This just sucks though. You can see the pain in Malcolm’s eyes when he admits it out loud. Followed by the stubborn look he gives Coppenwrath - the one that’s inviting him to ensue that Malcolm can’t do his job. It’s just heartbreaking to watch. All I can think about is the team’s faces as they listen to Malcolm’s outburst.

22:50 - Coppenwrath gives Malcolm a look here that says, “Damn, you are messed up.”

23:50 - The second someone reveals a personal trauma and/or personal problem Malcolm instantly becomes the most understanding, loving, compassionate human being on the planet. It’s beautiful.

24:28 - Malcolm looks so sad here. My heart is shattering.

24:38 - Wow. Malcolm’s voice is deep here. He sounds really upset. He’s angry and scared. I love it.

24:54 - Gil has soccer trophies in his office. In other scenes we’ve also been able to see that Gil has some signed baseballs in glass cases and some model cars in his office. Gil doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to keep his own sports trophies in his office. Maybe he plays casually in an NYPD league and those are the 16th precinct soccer trophies? BUT here is my true headcanon: Ainsley and/or Malcolm (but I’m feeling that this was more Ainsley’s thing) was really into soccer as a kid. Maybe Gil coached her team? Or he and Jackie took her to all of the games/practices because Jessica had to deal with Martin’s trials? Maybe she gave all of Gil her trophies at some point because she thinks that he deserves them too and he proudly displays them all. The baseballs and cars? Christmas/birthday gifts from Malcolm, Ainsley and/or Jackie over the years. I will die with this theory because it makes me happy.

25:50 - More hints from the writers that there’s something romantic brewing between Jessica and Gil.

26:40 - This whole scene with the deprogrammers is strange. It’s weird that Malcolm is standing next to the couch like some kind of butler. BUT DAMN it is funny when Jessica starts making some not-so-subtle hints about wanting Malcolm to accept his trust fund, settle down, and give her grandchildren. I especially like this because it suggests that Malcolm doesn’t have access to the family money. I assume he pays for things with his salary except for when Jessica buys him things that she insists that he needs (like clothes? food? fancy headboards for his bed?).

27:40 - I love this whole JT, Gil, and Malcolm are tag teaming the interrogation thing. I love that JT and Gil are visibly pissed (because this dude killed someone) and they’re flanking him. I find it interesting that Malcolm is standing so far away - watching, until it’s time to start rambling about his observations. It’s a really great dynamic (I miss Dani though).

28:31 - Look at Malcolm’s face when Coppenwrath mentions the “incident”. He looks sad and guilty. He clearly feels bad for losing it on Gil. Look at the true fear on Dani’s face - she’s terrified at Bright’s mental state. AND GIL. Trying to take some of the responsibility for the incident because he looks sad, and scared for Malcolm too. My heart is so full with all of this whump.

28:48 - Another instance where Malcolm has his own desk. I seriously want to know what the deal is with the desk. Is it his? Does he share it? I want to know. So. Bad.

29:01 - Malcolm’s eyes remind me of the Pepe Sylvia scene in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. He looks like a manic dude riding on the wave of a crazy conspiracy theory. It’s not good. Gil looks like he’s walking on egg shells because he doesn’t know what to say to help Malcolm. That’s almost worse.

30:38 - Edrisa’s little moments in this episode are cute and funny. BUT WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO HER ABOUT THE CASE IF SHE DOESN’T HAVE ALL THE DETAILS? Aren’t you supposed to be talking to her about Malcolm’s mental state?!? Ugh.

31:00 - This exchange between Coppenwrath and Malcolm is great. Malcolm looks sooo upset. The way he bites his lip and stares at the ground to avoid eye contact. The way Coppenwrath lowers himself to enter Malcolm’s line of sight. Malcolm looks on the verge of tears. He’s openly admitting his current biggest problem: what Watkins told him and the hallucinations. Not just to Coppenwrath but to Gil, Dani, and JT too. He just wants a dad who loves him and my heart is shattered. He looks so so wrecked. Somebody hug him. Please.

33:30 - Malcolm isn’t talking about how he’s going to miss his work friends because he thinks going to get fired. He’s talking from the fear that his friends will abandon him when they find out that he’s hallucinating. He’s afraid that they’ll abandon him because they think he’s crazy. He looks so truly sad here. Ugh.

34:33 - Watching Malcolm expose Coppenwrath is upsetting. Usually, Malcolm has a look of determination, desperation, and mild sympathy in his eyes when he talks to a killer. This time - Malcolm just looks vacant, then self-satisfied, then annoyed. It’s different than usual, which is unsettling.

35:50 - Now Coppenwrath looks scared.

36:39 - I’ve never been so proud as the moment that the team steps out from the shadows to support Bright. Right as Coppenwrath is trying to convince Malcolm that the team thinks he’s crazy. My heart is full. Kill me now - I’ll die happy.

36:54 - I love this angle here. It’s not JT or Dani that we can see pulling out their guns. It’s papa Gil. The man who will undoubtedly shoot Coppenwrath if anything happens to Malcolm.

37:00 - Another issue I have. Malcolm doesn’t look scared when there is a gun pointed at his head. He looks alarmed but not scared. More proof of his suicidality. I am not okay.

37:05 - I love the scene where we see JT, Dani, and Gil all pointing guns into the room - desperate to help Malcolm. Look at the panic in Gil’s eyes as he orders a hostage negotiator.

37:37 - Only Malcolm could possibly feel bad for the man with a gun pointing a gun at his head.

38:45 - I do not like how visibly upset Malcolm is in this scene. I mean my whump heart adores it but I also hate it because you know - whump is complicated.

39:23 - That hug was as much for Malcolm as it was for Andi.

39:40 - This is one of my favourite Gil/Malcolm scenes. It’s just wonderful. Gil looks so worried about Malcolm and Malcolm looks a combination of scared and resigned to what Gil is going to ask him. There is something about the way Gil asks “Are you okay?” that just feels like a knife in my heart. Then Malcolm answers truthfully, and I’m pretty sure my heart stopped altogether.

40:00 - Gil looks even sadder (if that’s possible) when Malcolm responds truthfully but he also looks resigned. He’s not surprised by Malcolm’s answer just of how easily he got the truth out of Malcolm.

40:24 - Gil has the absolute perfect response. “Okay.” Because Gil’s done too. Gil is almost as tired as Malcolm and for now Gil’s comforted by the fact that Malcolm is self-aware and being honest with him. For now - that’s enough.

40:44 - GIL YOU NEED A VACATION TOO.....omg. Can we get a Gil+Malcolm joint vacation. Please?!? That would be amazing. Someone write the fic!! Please!!

41:22 - Malcolm can see that Gil is upset. He knows he’s worrying Gil and he still feels guilty about the incident. Malcolm may be a little cracked right now but our boy is a mature adult. Watching Malcolm sincerely apologize to Gil feels like a warm hug. Gil’s little smile is everything. I want to cry happy tears.

42:30 - “I’m a civilian now Sunshine.”....does this imply that sometime between 1x6 (when Gil refers to Malcolm as a civilian on the police radio) and now Malcolm has become an official member of the NYPD?

I. Love. This. Episode. It’s not perfect but the insight to Malcolm is amazing. Thanks for hanging out my dudes.

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thenightling · 6 years

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ACTUAL bisexuals / Panasexuals in history

I just saw a list of “Bisexuals erased from history” that was kind of offensive in that it suggested if you’re in a long term relationship it becomes “debatable” if you’re really bisexual or not. They posted such a comment next to their listing of the late, great, Freddie Mercury. I’ll be listing bisexuals and whenever possible the sources of the information on their sexualities.

Please note, many of these were from before bisexuality or panasexuality were common terms but I am favoring figures who were known to be attracted to men and women or had the potential to be attracted to either.

I am putting the list under this cut so that I may add to it later.

______________________________________________

Mythological figures:

Most of the Greek Gods including Apollo - The Greek myths. Loki - Also genderfluid. The Edda mentions Loki spending years as a woman “Birthing and milking like a cow.” Loki also gave birth to the eight legged horse, Sleipnir, and fathered several children. He was married to Sigyn. ________________________________ Historical people: Anne Bonny - History Channel’s real Pirates of the Caribbean. Was lovers with Mary Reed and Calico Jack. Mary Reed - History Channel’s real pirates of the Caribbean. Was lovers with Anne Bonny and Calico Jack. Johann Georg Faust (Faustus) - Basis for the German legend of Faust. According to actual documents from the era he was banned from Ingolstadt Bavaria for negromancy (black magick) and sodomy.

Leonardo Da Vinci - Arrested for Sodomy but thanks to his political connections no witnesses would testify against him. He was ultimately released. (Historically documented.) Freddie Mercury - Several books, implied in songs like (bicycle race), and even his former lovers. David Bowie - Came out of the closet on live TV and repeated the statement in many interviews. Later he claimed to be a “closet straight man” but toward the end of his life said he was bi but monogamously straight. (Unfortunately Bowie was of an era that associated being bisexual with being promiscuous and the weird stigma that bisexual people can’t be monogamous.) Mick Jagger - Angie Bowie (David Bowie’s first wife) caught him naked in bed with her husband. For years Mick Jagger denied the claims but roughly ten years ago admitted it really happened. Vincent Price - Confirmed as bisexual by his daughter.

Roddy McDowall - (probably Vincent Price’s lover) - According to the Fright Night “You’re so cool, Brewster” documentary Roddy would have two dinner parties a week. One for straights, one for gays. According to Victoria Price, when she confronted Roddy about her father’s sexuality he said “You know, we didn't have any idea what bisexuality meant in that sense, and if we didn't know, then how can we know the answer to that question." Oscar Wilde - Married and had children but also had male lovers and was even eventually arrested for it. His own novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray was used against him at his trial. Lord Alfred Douglas - Oscar Wilde’s lover, whom in the love letters was referred to as “Bosie.” Julius Caesar - I’m only going to list a few emperors here because most Roman Emperors had male lovers and it would make this list very long. Nero - This is not a very nice one. After he murdered his own wife he had his favorite male slave, Sporus, made into a complete eunuch (removed Penis and testicles), so that he could legally marry him under Roman law. (A loophole that if he didn’t have male genitalia he could marry him as a woman). Virginia Woolf - From the list 13 Bisexual icons Giacomo Casanova Lou Reed - Many exlovers of varying gender and sexual identities have come forward. Walt Whitman

Josephine Baker Sir Alec Guinness - Though married to a woman he was reported to have had many male partners. Billie Holiday - Openly attracted to men and women. Nina Simone Lady Gaga King James - Infamously believed to have had an affair with a male cousin (whom he had sleep in a room connected to his own and supposed to have said he loved more than any woman). The clergy of King James (who were working on the English translation of The Bible) apparently deliberately exaggerated, embellished and sometimes outright added anti-homosexual content to The King James Bible in an attempt to discourage the affair. Hans Christian Andersen - According to some recovered “love letters” he sent passionate love letters to several women and at least one man. Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach. This revelation about Hans’ sexuality accounts for his version of the Cupid story in which an attraction to a boy causes an old man’s death and his final words to be “What a naughty boy Cupid is!”

Alan Turing - Convicted of the “crime” of homosexuality. Edna St. Vincent Millay Alfred Kinsey John Maynard Keynes ___________________________

Speculative: Mary Shelley - She infamously had lesbian friends and preached free love. This doesn’t necessarily prove bisexuality but she did sometimes talk about finding other women attractive. Bram Stoker - A popular theory is that Renfield in Dracula was created as a means for him to come to terms with his attraction to actor, Henry Irving, whom he based Dracula’s physical appearance on.

Susan B. Anthony - Her rivals spread rumors about her lesbianism. It is a fair debate that she may have been bisexual. William Shakespeare Malcolm X - At least two websites about sexuality have suggested he was bisexual. Wolfgang Von Goethe

Lord Byron Percy Shelley

Channing Tatum - Rumored

___________________________________

Literary characters: (Pre-1972 because before then is when they still had to be discrete about such things.) Mephistopheles in Goethe’s 2 part version of Faust - repeatedly confirmed in the actual two part drama. The urFaust mentions the pleasures of sex with women and men. Mephisto flirts with Marthe (Martha) and at the end of part 2 he is sexually aroused and attracted to male presenting angels. In some versions of the Faust legend, when Faust says he wants a wife, Mephisto leaves and returns in a dress. One theory about Goethe’s Faust is if Mephisto was able to claim Faust as his prize he would have “Kept” him. Dorian Gray in Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray - Currently this requires reading between the lines but apparently earlier editions of the novel were more blatant about the sexuality. The novel was ultimately used as evidence against Oscar Wilde in a trial that got him convicted of the “crime” of homosexuality. Basil Hallward - the character in The Picture of Dorian Gray was probably gay (no sign of female attraction). Early editions of The Picture of Dorian Gray made his sexual attraction to Dorian Gray very blatant.

Lord Henry - Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray. Though a married man, Lord Henry gave Dorian a cigarette case that was engraved with “The World has changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curve of your lips rewrite history.” This line (and many other Oscar Wilde quotes) would later be used in the film Velvet Goldmine, loosely based on the early career of biseuxal rock star, David Bowie.

Alan Campbell - A gay (or bisexual) man whom Dorian blackmails with what is implied to be a list of his former lovers in the Picture of Dorian Gray, in order to force him to help get rid of Basil’s body. Alan eventually would commit suicide in the story. Carmilla and Laura - From the novel Carmilla. Probably lesbian but worth noting. Carmilla was sexually attracted to Laura and Laura hinted that the attraction was reciprocated. Carmilla would later be portrayed as bisexual in some media such as The Batman vs. Dracula.

Renfield - in the novel Dracula it’s often speculated that Renfield was sexually attracted to “The master.” There is a deleted scene of the 1992 Bram Stoker’s Dracula movie where he admits to being spurned and having “lost him to that pretty woman.” The song The Master’s Song in Frank Wildhorn’s Dracula the musical is very homo-errotic.

Dracula - Frank Wildhorn’s Dracula The Musical (particularly the German production Dracula das Musical) has many bisexual and gay overtones. Dracula has male and female brides (and grooms) in his castle. The scene where Dracula feeds on Jonathan Harker (Blut AKA Fresh Blood) is very homo-errotic) yet Dracula is also heavily attracted to Mina in this version of the story. Renfield’s song “The Master’s song is very homoerrotic and in fact it looks like he’s about to kiss Dracula when Dracula kills him in the play. There’s a deleted scene in the 1992 Dracula movie where Renfield admits to feeling spurned by Dracula who has chosen a woman over him. And director Dario Argento said his version of Dracula is bisexual.

Ozma - Though not quite bisexual, L. Frank Baum’s Oz books (which include The Wonderful Wizard of Oz), Ozma is the rightful heir to Oz and spent most of her life disguised magically as a boy and when the spell was lifted she had to adjust to being female. This provided a social commentary on behaviors considered acceptable in males but not females, and may have been an early allegory for being Trans.

Belasco - The ghost in the novel Hell House by Richard Matheson was supposed to have (in life) dabbled in all sort of “sexual deviance” with men and women and was implied to be attracted to the protagonist, Ben (played by Roddy McDowall in the film adaptation The Legend of Hell House).

_______________ Note: I may add to this list later.

#LGBT+#Bisexuality #Bisexual #Panasexual #Panasexuality

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dustedmagazine · 6 years

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The Dusted Mid-Year Exchange: 2018 Edition, Part 1

In our fifth annual switcheroo, Dusted writers review each other’s favorite records, venturing out of the genres where they feel most comfortable to wrestle with excellence outside their frame of reference. As always, assignments were made at random with the only rules being: a) you can’t review your own pick and b) you can’t review something you’ve already written about for Dusted.

Unlike in past years, there was no clear favorite in 2018, although artists including Marisa Anderson, Olden Yolk, DJ Koze and Kacey Musgraves made multiple lists. And perhaps most heartening, a number of writers amended their mid-year favorites after listening to other writers’ picks. We hope you’ll also be able to find some new favorites among the artists we highlight.

Today, we’ll run the first half of the mid-year blurbs (alphabetically) from Marisa Anderson to Joelle Leandre & Elisabeth Harnik. We’ll cover the second half of the alphabet tomorrow, then close our feature with individual writers’ best of lists through the first half.

Marisa Anderson — Cloud Corner (Thrill Jockey)

Cloud Corner by Marisa Anderson

Who recommended it? Eric McDowell

Did we review it? Not yet, but it’s assigned.

Ben Donnelly’s take:

"Slow Ascent" is one of the titles in Anderson's latest batch of profound electric guitar explorations. It's a good phrase to summarize her career and style, hiking higher with each release, wandering further from the trails. For the second time, she's tracking a few extra instruments into her miniatures without disrupting the solitude, keyboards and acoustic strings mostly matching the cracks and chime of her main axe. Her fingerpicking has a fractal aspect, where intricate and rapid patterns can create a cycle that's relaxed and gradual, as on the title track and other lilting numbers. "Lament," a slide blues with a dissipating tempo and skeletal keyboard notes is forceful in its minimalism. She's becoming a master of small contrasts. Nowhere better than the closer "Lift,” where folks sounds step aside for a plucky scale that spirals up, offset by sweeps that sound like brushing the harp of an open-lidded grand piano, but take focus as a harmonized electric. Her brilliance is ever more in focus.

The Armed — Only Love (Throatruiner)

ONLY LOVE by The Armed

Who recommended it? Jonathan Shaw

Did we review it? Yes. Jonathan Shaw said, “The Armed will likely be delighted by the divisive responses Only Love generates.”

Ian Mathers’ take:

You almost wish for anyone who’s potentially up for the Armed’s pummelling, exuberant, often frantic, tremendously maximalist take on hardcore and assorted associated genres to come to the record totally blind, and not just because “Witness” comes leaping out of the gates so forcefully. It can be fun to start digging around and register all the distancing tactics, purposeful obfuscation, sense of play, and weird links (to everything from Converge to, err, Rubicam and Young), but the visceral impact of Only Love is powerful enough that all that context should be saved for later. It’s one thing to start filling in context, it’s another thing to hear something as ferocious and compelling as “Role Models” (“NO INS! NO OUTS!” yell-chanted in a way I’m pretty sure even little kids would find appealing, if you could sneak this synth-spiked bomb past their parents) in the context of trying to figure out the game, if there is indeed a game here. After the roiling chaos of the first few listens subsides the sheer number of hooks packed inside these songs really settle in your mind, anchored by Ben Koller’s incredible drumming (possibly commissioned on false pretences) and just as adept at etching out a multi-part climax like the seething “On Jupiter” as just full-on sprinting on the likes of “Heavily Lined.” And then there’s “Fortune’s Daughter,” maybe the strongest earworm I’ve encountered yet in 2018. Who are the Armed and what are they up to? It’s not that I’m not interested in the answer to that kind of question, it’s more that as long as they keep making records as good as Only Love I’m happy to believe whatever they tell us (or don’t).

Bardo Pond — Volume 8 (Fire)

Volume 8 by Bardo Pond

Who recommended it? Jennifer Kelly

Did we review it? Yes, Jennifer said, “The sound, vast and muscularly monolithic as ever, seems more like a demon summoned periodically from a ring of fire than the product of any sort of linear development.”

Isaac Cooper’s take:

Like fellow travelers Yo La Tengo’s There’s A Riot Going On, Bardo Pond’s Volume 8 is stitched together from jam excerpts and spare parts, but unlike Riot, Volume 8 is remarkably cohesive and propulsive. Even at its droniest and spaciest, there is no shortage of momentum or sense that Volume 8 is a collection of barrel scrapings to tide over the diehards; it stands with any of Bardo Pond’s releases. The guitars on “Kailash” and “Flayed Wish” howl and wail like Lear on the heath, while the rhythm section pushes on, determined as Sisyphus. Two shorter pieces, “Power Children” and the gorgeous solo guitar piece “Cud,” act as a brief respite before the entropic and monstrously heavy closer, “And I Will”. Musical improvisation is one of the best means we have of tapping into the murky world of the unconscious, and Volume 8 demonstrates that while there’s plenty of chaos and darkness down there, it’s also the source of inspiration and transcendence.

Cut Worms — Hollow Ground (Jagjaguwar)

Hollow Ground by Cut Worms

Who recommended it? Ben Donnelly

Did we review it? Not yet...

Patrick Masterson’s take:

“Amid all the noise nowadays, there’s precious little that still makes me feel the way those peoples’ songs do, and aspiring to reach that level is a big part of what makes me do this to begin with.” This is Cut Worms’ Max Clarke in a charmingly earnest Medium interview last fall on some of his biggest influences – John Lennon, Bob Dylan, Lou Reed. Maybe you’ve heard of them; maybe you’ve heard of the level of cultural influence they have exerted on us all. And if you’ve heard the Alien Sunset EP that was released just after the interview ran, you’ll easily be able to see where Clarke was coming from in the time that he spent putting the homespun eight-track wonder together, splitting halves between Chicago and his current Brooklyn home. It’s a beautiful record that doesn’t overplay its hand, choosing instead to let the simplicity of his natural ear for a melody do the talking despite the humble recording quality. He was never going to reach the mythical heights of his influences plying away at that trade forever, of course, but his art was all the better for sounding so self-assured in its limitations.

Hollow Ground, however, is a Trojan Horse of the most exhausting variety. Those same reference points – the Beatles, Dylan, solo Reed – still apply, only here they spring forth in an aggressively augmented form with a backing band and a more fleshed-out sound that’s like saying, “Alexa, give me every pop music trend of the 60s at once” or, more accurately, like listening to someone too young to have experienced the decade but old enough to be familiar with its most basic cultural signifiers play an album’s worth of icons. How do we know? Check the new versions of Alien Sunset’s “Don’t Want to Say Good-Bye” and “Like Going Down Sideways”; they’re wholly different, coldly unlovable remakes of the intimate originals. Even his lyrics feel unconvincing; Clarke uses the pet name “baby” on 60% of the songs here, which, look: I don’t need to stare into a wordless void with Bill Basinski to feel something and there’s an evident surplus of genuinely touching heartache present, but that’s an affectation of the most irritatingly trite variety.

For a certain kind of person, Max Clarke is the perfect person; for that person, Hollow Ground will resonate simply, perfectly. I am not that person. I will never listen to this again – likely not individual songs, certainly not in full. Does that seem unduly harsh? Does it feel too personal? Does the cut worm forgive the plow? Guess we’ll see. Ask again when there’s a follow-up.

Sarah Davachi— Let Night Come on Bells End the Day (Recital)

youtube

Who recommended it? Bryan Daly

Did we review it? No

Bill Meyer’s take:

Sarah Davachi puts out albums often enough that it’s hard to catch up, so please cut Dusted some slack for not getting to Let Night Come on Bells End the Day until now. The Canadian composer and multi-instrumentalist has followed All My Circles Run, an all-acoustic minimalist chamber piece, with an overdubbed solo recording for electric organ, acoustic piano, Mellotron and synthesizers. Like some ecclesiastic initiate, she has followed a solitary path to arrive at a place that is one with the cosmos. Her slow-morphing tones, incremental melodies, and exquisitely voiced harmonies don’t just sound like they should be played in a chapel; they erect a virtual space around the listener that only lets the ineffable through. If Andrei Tarkovsky was still around, he might be writing a movie to wrap around these sounds.

DJ Koze — Knock Knock (Pampa Records)

youtube

Who recommended it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? Yes. Jennifer Kelly said it “has a humid, organic air, even its most rigorously electronic tracks seething with jungle-y vitality and caressing warmth.”

Ian Mathers’ take:

Like a lot of his peers, DJ Koze has been active and prolific for years without ever putting out that much in the way of “proper” albums, which probably goes some way towards explaining why Knock Knock, only his third, sounds so relaxed, confident and casually accomplished. With stellar vocal turns by everyone from Lambchop’s Kurt Wagner to folkie José González to Róisín Murphy (who’s rarely put her imperious purr to better effect than on the two perfectly-matched tracks she’s on here), 16 tracks in total and a lengthy running time, Knock Knock feels like a bit of a Statement from the producer. Which makes it maybe even more impressive that some of the best stuff here (like the sad jam “Pick Up” with its perfectly deployed vocal sample, or the almost-Avalanches style “Baby (How Much I LFO You)”) is just Koze without a high-profile guest vocalist. The whole thing has a friendly warmth and subtle propulsiveness that makes for compulsive listening; if this isn’t Koze at the peak of his powers, it sure feels like it could be.

Tashi Dorji and Tyler Damon — Leave No Trace: Live in St. Louis (Family Vineyard)

Leave No Trace: Live In St. Louis by Tashi Dorji & Tyler Damon

Who recommended it? Isaac Olson

Did we review it? Yes, Isaac said, "While these performances are undoubtedly chaotic, they never feel purposeless.”

Justin Cober-Lake's take:

That guitarist Tashi Dorji and percussionist Tyler Damon have a limitless supply of ideas isn't surprising, but it's remarkable how well they've organized them into sensible packages on Leave No Trace: Live in St. Louis. Neither of the quarter-hour tracks here are exactly linear, but they do progress both coherently and unhaltingly. “Leave No Trace” offers the most noise, with the first half of the piece continuously crescendoing. The disappearance of one artist or the other simply means the soloist has more volume to cover. The pair spend the last two minutes together, Damon crashing away while Dorji sounds like two guitarists fitting blips together.

“Calm the Shadows” works differently. While not a suite, the song comes in sections, with Dorji and Damon filling in an outline as they go. The pair respond to each other, and work mutually on an unpredictable but discernable path. The slow build to the noisy section lets the chaos function as a thesis statement with the back half of the track the understanding of what to do with it. Dorji's pointed playing through that section answers the early rumble without making anything easier. Damon's sounds complete the thought. When “Leave No Trace” works so hard to slowly heap sounds before smashing through it all, the effect is amplified but the control of its predecessor. Dorji and Damon are a few albums in now and, while there wasn't much doubt from the start, they seem to be working in a rare place right now.

Holland/Parker/Taborn/Smith—Uncharted Territories (Dare2 Records)

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Who recommended it? Derek Taylor

Did we review it? Not yet.

Jennifer Kelly’s take:

It feels like a math puzzle. How many distinct ensembles including duos, trios and quartets can be formed out of four musicians? But hearing it in practice as master bassist Dave Holland, free jazz titan Evan Parker, pianist Craig Taborn and drummer-vibe-ist Ches Smith assemble and disassemble into improvisatory groups is quite another thing. “Trio No Tenor” on disc one takes a luminous shimmer from jangling metallic percussion, abstract interpolations of piano and the shape-shifting tone of plucked, hanging bass tones. “Duo Bass Tenor” on disc two is far more fluid and contemplative, as long bowed bass notes underline the fluttering explorations of sax; its two old friends finding space in each other’s musings, darting in to challenge and interject and locating points of agreement even in occasional dissonance. The quartets, though, are the most astonishing, (I like #5 from Disc 2), as extraordinary, unruly energies careen off one another, extemporizing, reacting, reaching over and in between each other in a dense mesh of sound that seems, nonetheless, uncrowded and precisely choreographed. Only three cuts were composed ahead, the rest worked out in two days of live improvisation. Uncharted indeed.

Quin Kirchner — The Other Side of Time (Astral Spirits)

The Other Side of Time by Quin Kirchner

Who recommended it? Bill Meyer

Did we review it? Yes, Eric McDowell said: “ Kirchner sidesteps novelty and navel-gazing by putting pyrotechnics second to, well, music.”

Jennifer Kelly’s take:

Kirchner leads from behind on this sprawling two LP solo debut, his drumming feverishly hot but held in check so that others — saxophonist Nate Lepine, bass clarinet player Jason Stein, trombonist Nick Broste and Matt Ulery — can take the spotlight. Interplay between the two reed players is intricately, acrobatically fine. In opener “Ritual,” Lepine jets off with Stein in hot, asynchronous pursuit, Kirchner executing a furiously syncopated undertow, part samba shuffle, part continually exploding roll. “Brainville,” the Sun Ra cover, swings and swaggers, bass and drums in arch, stylized conversation. Kirchner is, maybe a drummer’s drummer, but this is not a drummer’s record, except on two lovely, timbrally varied “Drums & Tines” tracks, where layers of kit rhythms and kalimba intersect in fascinating geometric patterns. Kirchner clearly reveres another band leader whose instrument didn’t always occupy the top of the mix; Mingus’ “Self-Portrait Three Colors” cuts the drums to brush-on-snares, while giving Broste a chance to wail, the two reedists to evoke lush dance-hall sensualism, the bassist to pluck out dark blots of body-moving tone. Kirchner is not the façade, but the architect and also the guy who holds up the building.

Joelle Leandre & Elisabeth Harnik — Tender Music (Trost Records)

Tender Music by Joelle Leandre / Elisabeth Harnik

Who recommended it? Eric McDowell

Did we review it? No

Isaac Olson’s take:

The best part of listening to improvised music is hearing the moment when the musicians lock in and the music takes on a life of its own, when the thrill of discovery dissolves the boundaries between performer and audience. There are many such moments on Tender Music, an improvised set from bassist Joelle Leandre and pianist Elisabeth Harnik. A few examples: the swelling tension that emerges at the one and a half minute mark of “Ear Area I,” the rising anxiety and tentative conclusion of “Ear Area IV”’s final minute, and the march that closes out “Ear Area VI”. Between these peaks, Leandre and Harnik evoke Cecil Taylor, Morton Feldman, blues, bop, classical and more, sometimes all within the space of two or three minutes. Fortunately, Leandre and Harnik are attentive enough players that their restlessness never comes at the cost of coherence. Leandre and Harnik are formidable soloists whose use of extended techniques coax ear-tickling, unexpected timbres from their instruments, but it is when they’re playing together, and more or less “normally,” that Tender Music is at its best, that the melodic and rhythmic invention of both players shines brightest, and that they’re able to speak to each other, and to us, most clearly.

#marisa anderson #the armed #bardo pond #cutworms #sarah davachi #dusted magazine #mid-year 2018 #dj koze #tashi dorji #tyler damon #dave holland #evan parker #craig taborn #ches smith #quin kirchner #joelle leandre #elisabeth harnik #midyear

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maskedinstructor · 3 years

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Black Education in America- DREAM SCHOOL is COOL

IF IAM TO BE LOCKED IN SCHOOL FOR 6 HOURS AND 40 MINUTES DAILY, IT MUST/SHOULD BE A DREAM...

I arrive at school (′ I’ is a representation of every student) and am greeted by a butler who requests my order for breakfast. I place it . When I take my seat in my favorite section, the meal awaits me. My voice could be heard throughout as I greet my homies. We all laugh about last night’s comedy show on television. Someone suggests that we have time and should check it out again in the school cafeteria,. There are many such TVs throughout At a signal over the loudspeaker, I prepare to leave the dining hall and proceed to homeroom. A light jazz tone fills the hallways as we walk to class. The corridors are filled with reminders of the greatness of our ancestors, heroes, icons , leaders and role models. . President Obama and Michelle are on every floor of this magnificent building. His favorite saying is written in bright calligraphy on the walls and stairwells on the first floor: ‘ YES WE CAN !” The principal has added a smart statement alongside President Obama’s wisdom: WHATEVER IT IS. Immediately thereafter can be seen Mr. Obama’s demand: “ YES WE CAN !”.

During my trek to official class. I am reminded of the magnificence of Black people, my people, as strategically placed pictures, posters and portraits cover almost every inch of the edifice...BLACK PEOPLE ARE MARVELOUS. POVERTY IS THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL. STRIVE TO BE INDEPENDENTLY WEALTHY. YOUR BROTHER IS ALL OF MANKIND. BLACK IS GORGEOUS. SEIZE EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO LEARN SOMETHING NEW AND LIFE CHANGING. EXPECT GREAT THINGS TO HAPPEN IN YOUR LIFE. LOVE YOURSELF, BUT BE OF SERVICE TO ALL. NEVER SURRENDER THE LEADERSHIP OF YOUR LIFE TO ANYONE. FEEL IMAGINE THE WONDER IN YOU AND ACT ON IT. These sayings motivate the student body daily. The positive attitude derived from them permeate the entire atmosphere. The children, including me, attempt gallantly to emulate the written word.

I stop before entering the homeroom for a candy bar from one of the many confectionery stations. Sometimes, i pause at the ice cream shoppes and select my favorite malted, sundae or slurpee. Before, I can finish my morning treat, the noise begins. My classmates greet me with smiles in their voices. I cannot enter the classroom until the delicacies are eaten for no treats are permitted within the classrooms. Learning and teaching are the unique desserts in the classroom settings. That is made quite clear to all in attendance. We are here to learn. Ralph looks across the room in my direction while he is putting the finishing touches on his robot which debuts today in technology class. Anna is designing a dress for the protagonist of the play she has written. Others are reading the timeless works of Baldwin, Ellison, Wright, Malcolm X, Brown, Hughes and Moody. I nod my approval for the salutations and winks and proceed to my desk and space. I set up my Zoom call with Pascal in Africa to continue our discussion on capitalism in America. It does not even occur to me that classes have yet to begin. These activities were the warm -up to what is always a great day at school.

After a heated conversation with Pascal, a signal rings out and we all gather our belongings and move on to period 1. I have already forgotten the actual time. At our Dream School, time is inconsequential. Again I approach the corridors with excitement. The walls are lined with my heroes and sheroes... Marcus Garvey, Floyd Mayweather, Dr. Keith Black, Barack Obama, Shirley Chisholm, Fannie Lou Hamer, Malcolm X, Amanda Gorman, Tyler Perry, Oprah, Medgar Evers, Dr. Martin Luther King, Lebron James, Adam Clayton Powell, Jalen Rose, Lena Horne...

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dmgrundy · 4 years

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[70] Milestones (1975, dir. Robert Kramer and John Douglas)

Kramer has described this film in interview as, in essence, following around his friends—activists, actors, theatre and film people performing themselves, versions of themselves or characters. Though this is a film whose title proclaims its desire to tackle big subjects, big events*, its narrative method refuses such historical logic, or embeds it in the vicissitudes and differing scales of daily lives where it occurs as a network of relationships rather than a newspaper headline, a date, a statistic. (*And is in fact taken from a statement by Ho Chi Minh which implies the opposite--the revolutionary as the one who, like a modest marker of each mile on the road, indicates how far one has come on the journey and how far there is to go.) Over the lengthy running time, we encounter large group/s of (largely) of declassé white people involved in particular with the anti-war movement, living on communes, embedding themselves in factories, involved to a greater or lesser extent with the more militant wings of movement activism (one character has just been released from jail), all of them in various ways, and for different reasons—personal, political, both—reckoning with whether or not to keep up activism as the possibility of revolutionary change fades, as the war itself ends—and with it, the movement that built up against it. It’s hard to provide any total or totalising summary—though the scenes with Grace Paley reflecting on politics, gender roles and motherhood are highlights, and those featuring a blind, queer potter (played by co-director John Douglas) have an open and surprising tenderness to them. There are moments and movements of disenchantment and renewal, occasional sketches of a broader perspective, largely through historical montages: the glue of broader historical forces keeps coming unstuck, but, as the film nears its close things are brought together into a kind of statement of resolve, the film ending with footage from a live home birth, throughout which the mother is witnessed and helped-through collectively. It’s at once heavily allegorical and one of the most intensely ‘documentary’ moments of the film. In important 1975 ‘Cahiers du Cinema’ symposium on the film—a collective format for a collective film—featuring Serge Daney and others, several of the participants note that racialised groups are seen as focal points of exploitation and struggle, but are depicted only in pictures or identificatory rituals such as the activist released from prison who visits a hogan in a kind of restorative ‘vision quest’ (in another scene, his father, a doctor, invites him back into the class he’d tried to mark himself out from). Such groups thus rarely feature in the lives of these characters—suggesting that, of the dividing lines that appear in the film, and that fracture the communities they attempt to build, race is still the principal structure. Given this, Daney remarked in an essay for ‘Cahiers’ the following year, the films risks being apologia for ‘American conviviality’, based on the ‘ethnological masquerade’ of the ‘tribe’. (On this note, Lou Cornum has an important essay in the first issue of Pinko magazine about the use of the ‘tribe’ metaphor in a host white radical writings, from David Wojnarowicz to Leslie Feinberg, and a complex identificatory history, the way the American white (New) Left positions itself vis-à-vis the non-white might equally apply to Kramer’s film). For Daney, though, while there may be elements of such thought, reflected in the positions of the filmmakers as well as the figures in the film, ‘Milestones’ also suggests the fragility of this re-imagined community, specifically through two moments—an attempted break-in and sexual assault and the sudden death of a demobbed GI, about to join a collective house, who accepts an invitation to a break-in and is killed by a cop. In terms that suggest both what unites the individual figures to their various collectives (family, lover(s), activist group, commune, etc) and what unites the narrative strands of the film to each other, he describes the film’s structure not a ‘chronicle’, nor a ‘document’, but a ‘fabric’, one which ‘spreads, getting progressively larger, with invisible knock-on effects’. As such, the unknown is both space of political possibility, of dialectical process (and hopefully, progress) and risky territory in which the most vulnerable—or simply the unlucky—can succumb to the daily dangers against which the provisional collective(s) here envisioned can’t always protect them. Daney: ‘Human relationships don’t knit together with complete dependability; they are tied together over an empty space, on a wire without a net. To fall through the meshes of the net, to pass through a void, is to die’. And literally so. Milestone’s shelters are provisional, flimsy, and in constant negotiation, and if their dreams might seem alternately smaller or larger, more idealistic or more problematic than those we might be able to cultivate now, they resonate all the more for that: rather than a milestone to be mourned in left melancholy, nor a glowing icon of exemplary action, like Daney’s thread, they’re still unspooling, spreading, in all their complexity.

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feedimo · 4 years

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I Tried To Grow My Instagram Following With 'Emily In Paris' Tactics. Here's What Happened

I didn’t have many expectations of Emily in Paris. For example, I didn’t expect the Netflix series to drag iconic Chicago pizza maker Lou Malnati’s so hard that it would be moved to issue a statement in response, nor did I expect how severe the French stereotyping would be or that at every turn a nouveau man cut from stone would emerge ready to coucher avec Emily ce soir.

source https://feedimo.com/story/101964265

#feedimo #news

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hetmusic · 6 years

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FESTIVAL FINDS: YPSIGROCK 2018 | The Most Radicalist

In this feature, The Most Radicalist pick out their favourite emerging artists opening up stages across the globe. For this edition of Festival Finds, we're flying out to Sicily for Ypsigrock Festival, which promises to be like no other. The festival takes place in Castelbuono, a medieval village set in the scenic hills about an hour away from Palermo and a short twenty minute drive to the Mediterranean sea. For a weekend in August (9th to 12th), this sleepy village will play host to global musicians and music fans flocking from all over the island, Italy and further afield. Festival goers can expect the best of Sicilian hospitality combined with unique performances in historic courtyards, cloisters, pine woods, desecrated churches and the iconic castle’s square. This year, this boutique festival has booked headliners The Jesus And Mary Chain, The Horrors, and Aurora, although here at The Most Radicalist, we’re all about the newest sounds and so our festival picks look at the must-see smaller acts who would be well worth seeing at any event, but especially in the castle home of Ypsigrock. Discover our Festival Finds - Ama Lou, Her, Kelly Lee Owens, Shame, Blue Hawaii, and Confidence Man - below.

AMA LOU We’ve been on the tail of Ama Lou ever since the North Londoner made her impressive debut ‘TBC’ in 2016. Then she was just 18-years-old, but her age is irrespective of the British artist's conscience as her songwriting is unafraid of approaching deeper, more serious issues that affect our society, such as oppression of minorities. This moral agency is coupled with a desire to push the boundaries of genre and production. Her music has travelled from the twitchy electronic R&B of ‘TBC’, to the soulful tenderness of ‘Not Always’, to the eclecticism of ‘Said It Already’, and lastly to pop tendencies of ‘Lost My Home’. Ama Lou is an artist who’s grown up around the influences of London’s R&B scene, her classical training and all the offerings from the online world that young creatives have access to. Each of her songs pertains a relevant, unavoidbable message based on her own experience as a young person of minority heritage living in a sprawling metropolis, against a backdrop of balanced, beautiful R&B and pop influenced music.

HER This is sure to be one of the most emotional, heart-rendering performances of the festival and not for the reasons you’d usually expect. Her’s music isn’t overtly designed to evoke the buried hatch of feelings we all store away - their music is fresh, sexy and built around slick, slow-jazz rhythms. However, anyone who has been following Her since debut single ‘Quite Like’, when this project was still in its anonymous genesis, you’ll know that the band was struck with tragedy last year. Sadly, one half of the duo Simon Carpentier passed away after a long and private battle with cancer. The loss is commemorated by remaining band member Victor Solf in a song called ‘We Choose’, through which the musician’s energy continues to live on. It will certainly be a powerful experience to hear Solf’s dedication to his friend and long-term collaborator in a live setting, bring that presence from the studio in Paris to the sage in Sicily. Through tracks ‘Quite Like’, ‘We Choose’ and many more, Her add that chic French touch to Ypsigrock’s lineup. KELLY LEE OWENS Speaking with the organisers behind Ypsigrock Festivals, one of their first recommendations for an artist to see this year is Kelly Lee Owens, the London-based Welsh musician who swapped indie-rock for dream-pop and ambient techno in a much acclaimed debut album. The self-titled record takes the listener on a journey through meditative soundscapes, deft production and creative arrangements that smoothly introduces club beats appealing for newcomers and the most seasoned ravers alike. If this is your first introduction to Kelly Lee Owens, then we’d like to turn your attention to album track ‘Lucid’, which is the perfect example of her hybrid style. Beginning with orchestral violins, the song expands into dreamy electronica and Owens’ floating, reverb-soaked vocals; the tension is kept at arm's length until the last moment, where the dance beats break through into murky overtones and space-age synths. CONFIDENCE MAN Confidence Man make music for letting go of your inhibitions. Their album Confident Music For Confident People is a hedonistic melting pot of early LCD Soundsystem, Le Tigre, Beck, Hot Chip, and Jagwar Ma. Far from sounding like a dizzying mix, Confidence Man is an exhilarating kaleidoscope that alters your usual perception in favour of an optimistic outlook. The Melbourne outfit is made up of four characters Janet Planet, Sugar Bones, Clarence McGuffie and Reggie Goodchild and they’ve built up a mighty reputation for raising the roofs (figuratively and literally) at a string of festivals. We can only hope that the castle is left standing once Confidence Man are through with their high-octane performance. SHAME South London rockers Shame are a refreshing dose of youthful and raw post-punk that sounds like a combination of Fat White Family and The Stone Roses. Far from old school bravado, Shame are aware of their newness, although their approach shows a maturity beyond their years. As charismatic frontman Charlie Steen says of popular single ‘One Rizla’: “Embracing insecurity as a strength is what this song is about. It's the first song we ever wrote as a band and I think that's reflected in the simplicity of it. It's honest and raw, whilst attempting a stab at number one in the pop charts across the eastern hemisphere.” We suspect you may have to take any statements made by this British band with a pinch of salt, especially listening to songs like ‘Dust On Trial’, a grungy death rattle that hardly seems fit for today’s charts, but perfect for the open-minded audiences of Ypsigrock Festival. BLUE HAWAII Blue Hawaii aren’t ones to toot their own horn, instead allowing their fans to organically find their music, and once found, you won’t be able to draw yourselves away from their magical folk-pop. Back in 2010, the pairing of Raph Standell-Preston (also the lead singer in the band Braids) and Agor (aka Alexander Cowan) quietly released their debut EP, Blooming Summer, and since then the Montreal bandmates have continued to refine their soothing sound. Tinged with disco, dream-pop, tropical house and indie-folk, you can’t help but appreciate Blue Hawaii’s bold and well-handled variation. One moment you're transfixed on the delicacy of ‘Try To Be’, then you're grooving on down to ‘No One Like You’, before going back to gentle, melodic contemplation with ‘Get Happy’. If you're looking for diverse listening experience over the festival weekend, you can’t afford to miss Blue Hawaii.

http://www.themostradicalist.com/features/festival-finds-ypsigrock-2018/

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jeremystrele · 5 years

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The Best Of Australian Furniture Design

TDF Design Awards

by Lucy Feagins, Editor

Cameron Foggo, Bureau Sofa. Photo – Jack Wallace.

Fomu Design, Odie Chair. Photo – Sean Fennessy.

Cameron Foggo, Bureau Sofa

Influenced by mid-century design, this sofa plays with the juxtaposition of soft and hard elements. The severe steel rail and fine frame supports relaxed feather cushioning. The sofa is designed to fit within Cameron Foggo’s existing body of work, as a timeless piece to last a life time.

Fomu Design, Odie Chair

With the look of a handcrafted piece, this stackable chair by Fomu Design cleverly makes use of CNC technology to minimise timber wastage and maximise comfort and visual appeal. The chair plays with the expressive nature of art and the practicality of design, to create something equally functional and beautiful. The solid American oak chair is constructed from timber components of equal thickness, which limits wastage and creates a consistent and cohesive design.

Nick Rennie Studio, Wyrie Table. Photo – Sean Fennessy.

Daniel Poole, Freshwater Dining Table. Photo – Jonathon Revill,

Nick Rennie Studio, Wyrie Table

Responding to a brief from Artedomus, this dining table by Nick Rennie Studio is made of Elba stone and incredibly, is manufactured without any form of fixings, screws, glues or pins. The design is directly informed by a sense of responsibility to the material, which is millions of years old. The resolved design draws on the strength of the marble, using the stability of the legs to balance the top.

Daniel Poole, Freshwater Dining Table

Constructed from Rock Maple, this refined design was specifically created for an AuHaus project in Fresh Water, and uses advanced manufacturing techniques. The design required highly technical production from Daniel Poole, to maintain structural integrity for the 3.5m x 1.1m table, while maintaining a sleek profile.

Softer Studio, Clearer Coffee Table. Photo – supplied by Softer Studio.

LEFT: Pop & Scott, The Lou Alto. Photo – Jessica Tremp. RIGHT: Bern Chandley, CoCo Armchair. Photo – supplied by Bern Chandley.

Softer Studio, Clearer Coffee Table

A material exploration of timber and glass, this coffee table exemplifies Softer Studio’s edgy personality. The object is part of Softer’s recent experimentation with different materials, and the outcome is a toughened glass top and shelf, sitting on a timber base. The design pursues a sleek, mature aesthetic, but still captures the inventive character of the studio.

Pop & Scott, The Lou Alto

Paying homage to mid-century simplicity, this Pop and Scott collection aligns modern Australian lifestyle with classic form, realised in sustainable local timbers. All Pop and Scott furniture is crafted by hand in their Melbourne workshop.

Bern Chandley Furniture, CoCo Armchair

Bern Chandley Furniture presents a contemporary Australian take on the iconic Continuous Arm Windsor Chair. This piece plays with the limit of form, to create a durable and balanced functional object. The chair is produced through a mix of steambent and handshaped timber curves. The design highlights and enhances the inherent strength of natural timber.

Koskela, LEARN. Photo – supplied by Koskela

Jardan, Arte Table Range. Photo – James Geer.

Koskela, Learn

Koskela present a new concept in primary school furniture that reinforces the significance of engaging children and teaching staff in an interactive environment for learning. The range includes desks, whiteboards, screen and ottoman and floor cushion, and is informed by biophilic design. The items are designed to allow spaces for collaboration, presentation and breakout to accommodate different student and teacher needs.

Jardan, Arte Table Range

Jardan have created a collection of furniture made with family, design, Australian identity and sustainability in mind, inspired by Australian artists. The Arte dining table sits at the core of this collection, with stunning leg detail that challenges normal construction methods and required experimentation and labour-intensive craftsmanship. As a Certified Carbon Neutral organisation, Jardan are committed to waste reduction, and environmentally friendly materials and practices.

Tom Fereday for King Living, ETO Desk. Photo – Joseph Romano.

LEFT: Ross Thompson, Gentlemans Wardrobe. Photo – Tess Kelly. RIGHT: Dean Norton, Moodlum. Photo – Lisa Cohen. Styling – Bree Leech.

Tom Fereday for King Living, ETO Desk

This striking desk by Tom Fereday is a unified design that considers how people live and work today, by integrating power, wireless lighting and charging accessories. This sleek workstation offers interchangeable lighting and charging accessories integrated into its striking contemporary design.

Dean Norton, Moodlum

A timeless and minimalist furniture collection from Dean Norton, where contemporary design meets traditional spinning and hand crafting techniques. The designer drew upon his 10 years as an interior designer to create a cohesive range of minimalist furniture. Incredibly, across the collection of the leaning shelf, coffee table, side table and two wall mirrors; there are no visible fixings.

Ross Thompson, Gentleman’s Wardrobe

An elegant statement piece by Ross Thompson that takes a wardrobe storage unit beyond its pure practical function, into the realm of a sophisticated design object. The hand cut dovetailed cabinet is traditionally fitted with dovetailed drawers, and counter balanced by contemporary fine tapered legs. Ross works with proportion and balance to create a statement piece that works as part of the architecture of a home.

The TDF Design Awards Interior Design award is presented by nau design.

nau is a contemporary Australian design brand, offering furniture, lighting and accessories by a collective of Australia’s most curious, talented and spirited designers. The nau collection is reductive in form, honest in materiality and timeless in style, with designs suitable for residential and commercial spaces. Discover nau here.

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rosyredlipstick · 7 years

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lovesick (1\1)

AKA the conchell sick fic i’ve been dying to write

The sun is shining, the breeze is nice, and Mitchell has not murdered his younger brother yet.

These were all pleasant facts, especially for said brother in question.

Sebastian had insisted on after-school burgers after their hellish pre-finals week. Despite the fact Sebastian hadn’t attended a full school day in weeks, he seemed very insistent on the fact of his mental exhaustion due to the upcoming exams, and Mitchell hadn’t had nearly enough fight in him to disagree with the statement. Like a student who actually had been attending his classes regularly, he was dead in every way but literally.

So, there they were - some nameless side of the road drive through that advertised the cheapest burgers on this side of Cali.

“What are you doing tonight?” Sebastian took a messy bite of his burger, smearing mustard all along the side of his cheek and Mitchell physically had to resist the urge to reach out and wipe it off, tucking his hands underneath his legs instead.

“Bi-weekly Skype date with Connor.” Mitchell grinned, excited. He passed over a napkin, hoping Seb would actually get the hint. He didn’t, of course, and instead threw the crumpled napkin in the backseat.

Mitchell didn’t bother to conceal his sigh, instead only going back to his own burger.

“You guys are an old married couple, it’s disgusting.” Sebastian licked a trail of grease off his wrist.

Mitchell rolled his eyes. “Just because we’ve been dating longer than you’ve ever kept a hairstyle doesn’t mean we’re boring.” Mitchell blew a huff of air into his bangs, “Nothing is ever boring with that boy.”

Sebastian hummed, flicking through his latest dating app, apparently done with the conversation.

Mitchell finished his food, singing along softly to the age-old song playing on the radio, grateful that Mitchell was the one actually doing the driving this afternoon. Their odds of reckless driving went up significantly every time Sebastian got behind the wheel, and Mitchell never enjoyed it.

He drove them home, Sebastian poking at him every few minutes to just hurry up Mitchell jeez as Mitchell safety, legally kept the speed limit.

He got them back alive - always counted as a win when Sebastian was annoying him into oblivion - and the other boy rushed to grab his things and get upstairs.

His phone was already dinging with notifications - probably Connor’s warning text that his skype invitation was about to go through - and Mitchell booted up his laptop quickly. Their skype dates - every Wednesday and Friday, occasionally Saturday - were Mitchell’s favorite hours of the week.

He finally managed to log onto his laptop, getting comfortable and settled at his desk chair, and grinned at the immediate notification that popped up. Connor icon - grinning and flipping off the camera, Travis’s cropped out grin barely visible in the small photo - greeted him. Mitchell ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up a bit like he knew Connor went crazy over, and accepted the call.

“Hey!” Mitchell grinned, shifting closer to the camera. It took a moment for the blocky connection to settle,

“Hey babe.” Connor’s voice filtered out through the speakers, the sound weak and tiny. The video was dim - too dim - and Mitchell leaned into the camera, peering at the screen with careful eyes.

Connor was in bed, that was obvious, his curls even more of a mess than usual. Usually, Connor walked and jumped around during their Skype dates, incapable of keeping still, usually hanging off the back of the couch or jumping around the living room. It was an amusing habit, one Mitchell usually laughed and teased about, and that only made it more stranger as Connor buried his face in his blanket.

Connor’s skin was pale, that was obvious even through the screen and dark lighting, and his eyes drooped weakly even as he spoke.

“How was school, Mitch?” Connor’s voice was rough as he spoke around a yawn, wiping at his eyes.

Mitchell narrowed his eyes, “...Are you in your pajamas? Did, did you not go to school?” Mitchell made a face of horror, “Are you sick?”

“The doctor said to rest.” Connor told him, his tone edging on dismissive. “It’s just pneumonia.”

“Just?” Mitchell’s voice was high and shrill.

“I’m fine.” Connor mumbled into the screen. “Just…tired.”

Mitchell bit his lip, staring at the other boy with hardly concealed concern. “You should get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you later, okay? We can make up our Skype date later.”

The lack of protest was startling – usually Mitchell’s attempts to end their late night calls ended with several minutes of drawn out goodbyes and whines. But the other boy hardly blinked back at him before yawning goodnight and hanging up, leaving Mitchell alone and staring at his computer screen.

Mitchell stared at the empty homescreen for a long moment, just blinking at his reflection.

“Aright.” He said out loud, waiting another moment before shoving himself up. He pulled his duffel from under the bed, the essentials already packed. He knew to be prepared at this point.

“Sebastian! Come here!” He called over his shoulder, throwing his bag onto his bed. He waited a few moments, grabbing his phone and charger in the time, and shoved them both into the empty side pocket of the duffel.

“Sup broseph?” Sebastian asked, leaning on the doorway, barely looking up from the frantic tapping away at his phone.

Mitchell already had his duffel bag unzipped, looking through what he had already stuffed in his bag, and considering what else he needed. “Connor’s sick and I’m gonna go take care of him – I’ll be back Sunday night. Can you cover for me with Maria and Jacques?”

Sebastian looked up from his phone at that, blinking a few times. “Wait, what? You’re what?”

“I’m visiting Connor.” Mitchell repeated, a bit impatiently.

“In…New York?” Sebastian clarified.

Mitchell huffed out a breath. “Yes. In New York. Because he’s sick. Can you cover for me with your parents or not?”

“I mean, yeah.” He shrugged, “I’ll tell them you’re spending the weekend at Naomi’s. But are you sure going to New York is like, the best idea?”

“You’re not going to talk me out of it.” Mitchell told him, looking for his jeans. Under his bed – great, they were probably dirty. He packed them anyways.

Sebastian held up his hands. “Hey, as a child of Aphrodite it’s basically a sin for me to try and talk you out of making this insanely adorable declaration of your love, but it’s a 40 hour drive. So. Consider that.”

“Who said I was going to drive?” Mitchell asked, throwing other his duffel bag. He began digging through his drawer, clothes flying everywhere in the process.

Sebastian huffed, “Still! That’s an expensive plane ticket.”

“Not a plane either.” He finally found what he was looking for, holding up a thin purple vial to the light, “I helped Lou with Micah’s birthday present in exchange for this baby. I was going to save it for our six month, but this is important.”

Sebastian gave him a judgmental look and Mitchell sighed, taking a moment to turn and explain.

“Listen Seb, Travis is a good brother but I am fully convinced he simply threw a bottle of cough medicine in Connor’s general direction and skipped town or something. Anyways, it’s Friday. I’ll come back Sunday night.” Mitchell shook the bottle, “There should be enough for two trips. If not, I’ll book a plane ticket.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but began digging through his closet, hopefully to help him pack. “Fine, I’ll cover for you with the parents. But be careful not to sex him up so much when he’s sick, dear brother. I’ve been there, it’s not cute.”

“We’re not going to have sex!” Mitchell rolled his eyes, and paused. “Tonight. Probably.” Mitchell shrugged, “Not while he’s sick, at least.”

Sebastian gave him an incredibly dry look, reaching over and dumping a few condoms into his open duffel without breaking his gaze.

Seb zipped up the bag and shoved it in his chest. “Go before Maria gets home. Do you have his address?”

Mitchell nodded, peeling a post-it note off his wall and holding it up. “Right here. I’ll see you later, okay? I’ll Iris-message you tomorrow.”

Seb waved him off, pulling out his phone to probably call his thing of the week.

Mitchell held up the small vial to the light, studying the thick purple syrup. He trusted Lou, yeah, but…

Mitchell bit his lip, remembering the miserable flush on Connor’s cheeks, barely visible through the video chat. With this image in mind, he cracked the top and swallowed down a mouthful.

Mitchell spat the bitter taste out of his mouth, completely unprepared for how vile the potion tasted. Wasn’t magic supposed to be sweet?

He adjusted the back hanging over his shoulder, staring up at the building in front of him. The potion had dropped him in a nearby alley, close enough that the surroundings were familiar enough for Mitchell to find his way. He quickly stopped by a nearby bodega , filling up a few bags full of supplies, and set out towards his building.

Mitchell had been to the shared Stoll apartment only once before, and has been much less interested in the space as they had been…preoccupied.

Mitchell shook the idea out of his head, shifting the crackling plastic bags over to one hand. The door was locked, most definitely. It was the middle of the day, Travis most likely out. He sighed. There was really only one choice.

The door clicked open easily, Mitchell glancing around before slipping the pins back in his pocket. He liked to be prepared, okay? It was nice to always have what you needed.

The apartment was cleaner than he expected nice open windows that set the sun gloss over the dark hardwood floor. He couldn’t even image the rent on a place this nice in New York City.

Just like he predicted, the apartment was nearly empty, Travis nowhere in sight. He headed towards the room he was pretty sure was Connor’s and shifted the bags over to one hand as he swung the door open.

Connor was there, in bed, sprawled across his mattress. He was shirtless, a shiny sheen to his skin. He barely lifted his head as Mitchell walked in, instead pushing his face into a pile of pillows. Mitchell crouched down next to him, a worried frown crossing his face.

“How did you get in?” Connor asked, his flushed face still buried into his pillow.

“Picked the lock.” Mitchell used one hand to smooth the other boy’s curls back from his forehead, frowning.

“That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He declared, turning over on his back. He stared at Mitchell for a second, his eyes squinted and his voice drowsy. “What’s up?”

Mitchell held up the bags, smiling a bit. “I got you flu medicine, soup, and Gatorade.”

“Grape?” He asked hopefully, his eyes still closed and his face still buried in his pillow.

“Of course.” Mitchell answered easily, throwing down his duffel and grocery bags. “Here, drink some water before you fall back asleep. You’ll feel better, I promise.”

Connor did as told, draining the entire water bottle in one go before falling back into his pillows. “Night babe.”

Mitchell took the bottle from his loose fingers, “Night, darling.”

He took to cleaning up Connor’s room a bit, mostly just gathering up the loose crumbled tissues and taking out the trash. He threw in a load of laundry, knowing how much both boys detested the chore, and folded the pile on top of the dryer.

Cleaning always calmed him, soothed him in a way only complete order could. He wasn’t a neat freak or anything – he lived in a cabin with ten other teenagers – and his room back room was far from order – but it was always nice to work with his hands, and have something nice come out of it.

He moved onto the rest of the house next, wiping down the slightly sticky counters in the kitchen and throwing out some probably-sentient take-out.

Mitchell had just begun cleaning up the minimal mess in the living room – more tissues, a few plates left out – when he heard a few rough coughs from the direction of Connor’s room, and the bed creaking from obvious shifting.

He threw the dirty plates in the kitchen – a mental note in place to wash them later – and grabbed the grocery bags he came in with to check on the other boy.

“Hey, how ya feeling?” Mitchell asked, shifting through the bag to pull out the still-chilled Gatorade. He cracked the cap and held it out. But Connor, red-cheeked probably from his fever, only stared at him in bewilderment.

Connor blinked, sitting up and staring at him with wide eyes. He looked more surprised than Mitchell would have expected after speaking to him barely an hour ago.

“I…You’re here?”

Mitchell pressed the bottle into Connor’s hands, “Drink.” He ordered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re not getting dehydrated on my watch.”

Connor was still blinking at him. “I…thought I was hallucinating. You’re, uh, you’re here. Wow, um. Hi.”

Mitchell smiled fondly at him, poking his arm. “Hey hun.”

Connor pushed himself up, his comforter falling to pool at his waist. “You’re actually here. We should – we should go do something. You’re here, we should have fun.”

Mitchell reached out, gently pushing the other boy back. Even from the soft touch of Mitchell’s fingertips, he could feel how hot and clammy the other boy’s skin was.

“Lay down.” Mitchell ordered softly. “I’ll be here all weekend. But first, you’re gonna have to focus on feeling better.”

“I feel fine.” Connor told him, despite his fluttering eyes and flushed skin. “Seriously, we shouldn’t waste this visit –“

“It’s not a waste if it’s for you.” Mitchell only told him, tipping back the water bottle a bit so Connor would actually drink it.

Connor took a long drink and passed it back. Mitchell smoothed back his curls, enjoying the way Connor leaned in heavily to his touch.

“Let’s take your temperature.” He pulled out the red bag he found in their bathroom, the white cross distinctly familiar as the first aid kits kept at camp. He found the thermometer easily, still in the plastic. He ripped it off, playing with the buttons for a moment. “Open your mouth, c’mon.”

Connor groaned, “You know, I usually love to hear those words from you. Now, not so much.”

Mitchell smiled at that, “It’ll only take a moment. Now, tongue up.”

He complied, making a scrunched up face that warmed Mitchell’s chest a bit. The thermometer beeped after a moment, the display glowing a soft blue.

Mitchell hummed. “102.1”

Connor fell back onto his pillows. “That’s…not good?”

“You’ll feel better when it goes down.” Mitchell told him instead.

“I have to pee.” Connor said after a moment, pushing himself up. He moved slowly, shoving off his blankets with weak hands, and settled his feet on the carpet, looking unsure.

Connor stood, wobbling worryingly for a moment. Mitchell was at his side in a second, his hands hovering over the other boy’s skin. “Do you need help?”

Connor frowned, “No, I don’t need –“ He paused, the flush in his cheeks paling. He fell forward, Mitchell’s hands catching him, and stumbled towards the bathroom.

“I’m going to be sick.” He gasped, before doing just that, barely making it to the toilet in time.

Mitchell pulled Connor’s curls back, using a rubber band to tie his curls back while rubbing circles into the other boys back.

Connor finished, coughing a few more times into the toilet as Mitchell stood, grabbing a dishtowel from under the sink and running it under the cold water. He had a water bottle within reach, thankfully, probably forgotten there as he was cleaning.

Connor wiped at his mouth, exhaustion in every line of his body as he fell back against the wall. “You’re the best Mitchell, and I’m so happy to see you, but you should go. This can’t be very fun for you.”

Mitchell passed over a wet cloth and water bottle, “I deal with sick kids all the time. If I couldn’t handle a little puke, there’s no way I could survive as a camp counselor.” Mitchell settled down next to him, the bathroom tile cold and hard under his damp palms. He smoothed back Connor’s messy curls, holding them out of his face as Connor wiped his face off. Connor reached for the mouthwash on the counter and Mitchell helped him lean over carefully and spit it into the shower drain.

“I haven’t eaten in like, two days. How is throwing up even possible.” Connor groaned, his head dropping down onto Mitchell’s shoulder. “This is horrible. I feel horrible.”

Mitchell hummed sympathetically, his arm coming up to curl around Connor’s shoulders. Connor’s cheek was hot against his skin, his breath huffing against Mitchell’s neck.

Mitchell ran his fingers through Connor’s curls, and pressed his dry lips to Connor’s heated forehead.

Mitchell took a deep breath, giving the other boy one more moment. “Brush your teeth and use the washroom. I’ll go put on a movie, come on.”

Connor looked up hopefully. “Monster Inc.?”

“Your favorite. Already set up and ready to go.” Mitchell grinned, pulling him up. He gave Connor a few minutes alone in the bathroom, listening to the faucet click on and off and the toilet flush as he leaned against Connor’s bedroom wall. It was only a few more minutes until the door swung open, revealing the other boy with much, much fresher breath.

Mitchell held out his arm, letting Connor come to him. The other boy leaned heavily on him, his arm coming up to hang off Mitchell’s waist.

Mitchell helped him to the couch, dropping him off easily while the other boy groaned and curled on the cushion. Mitchell gave him a fond look before speaking.

“You should try and drink some broth and crackers, see if you can keep it down.” Mitchell grabbed the fleece blanket off the arm chair and draped it over his legs, tucking in the sides like he always did for the younger kids.

“Food is probably the worst idea you’ve ever had.” He declared from his place on the couch, but he sat up slightly and stared at Mitchell with tired eyes. “Like, actually the worst.”

“Well, you’re gonna try and keep it down.” Mitchell told him sweetly, ripping open one of the instant soup packets he picked up from the store. It only took hot water and a minute in the microwave to make – and it was probably horrible high in sodium – but it was the same, familiar brand the camp store held, which he knew the other boy would appreciate.

Mitchell caught Connor peeking over the couch arm with interest, the heavy scent probably making its way over to the other boy already.

He smiled softly, adding a bit of spice to the soup. Hopefully, the spice would help clear out Connor’s congestion – it was always a popular trick with the sick Aphrodite kids. He quickly bowled it and made it back to the living room where the selection screen for the movie was already on loop. He had put in the DVD earlier when he was cleaning, already planning to persuade Connor into dragging his feet to the couch so Mitchell could clean up his room.

“Eat.” Mitchell instructed, smoothing out the blanket before passing over the warm bowl. He settled next to Connor, their bodies brushing, and reached for the remote.

Connor caught his wrist before he could press play, focusing intensely on the soup in his lap.

“What’s wrong?” Mitchell frowned, his hand coming up to brush Connor’s cheeks and forehead. “Is your fever bothering you? I can go grab an ice pack if you want.”

Connor glanced up at Mitchell, catching his hand before he could pull away. “Thank you for this.” Connor told him softly. “You know, Mom’s always busy with work and Travis is great but he’s horrible with sick people and…I don’t know. I haven’t had someone take care of me in…years.” Connor gave him a half-shrug, his eyes glassy. “It…means a lot to me, Mitchell. You being here.”

Mitchell blinked a few times. “Of course Connor. I…” Mitchell’s eyes flickered away and back in a nervous movement. “I love you. Of course.”

Connor smiled, the movement a bit weak and hazy. “I love you too, Mitchell.” He burrowed his face into Mitchell’s neck, “Tell me again when I’m not super gross and I promise at least like, three blowjobs are in order.”

“Will do.” Mitchell laughed, pressing the other boy a bit closer. He grabbed for the remote, flipping on the movie, and Connor was asleep – his bowl drained – before Boo made it into Sully and Mike’s apartment.

Mitchell finished watching the movie, keeping his laughter low at the familiar jokes. It was nice, having this. A familiar movie playing, a warm, sleepy, albeit sickly boy at his side, his arms curled around Mitchell’s waist.

Connor was already drooling onto Mitchell’s sleeve. At least he was mostly cute.

Before the movie was over - right before the scene that always had Mitchell sniffing into his sleeve - the lock in the door clicked and turned, and Mitchell glanced over in time to see Travis dunking through the doorway.

“Hey Mitchell.” Travis greeted, his voice casual. He held up the grocery bag dangling from his hand, “Got you some of that strawberry milk you love.”

Mitchell sighed, carefully pushing the sleeping boy off of him and standing.

“Of course you did. Because you knew I was here. Of course.” Mitchell answered in a breezy voice, collecting Connor’s empty soup bowl, fixing the blanket to settle across the other boy before walking over. “And keep your voice down, Connor’s sleeping.”

Travis nodded, wrinkling his nose. “Good. He was vomiting all night, it was disgusting.”

Mitchell rolled his eyes, almost hip-checking him as he dunked past to throw the dishes on the sink. He turned on the tap, warming up the water, and dumped a glob of soap on the sponge.

“How’s Katie?” He asked, because he really did enjoy the other girl’s presence, usually in the midst of some poorly thought through Stoll ‘adventure’.

Travis jumped on the counter, letting his feet hit the cabinets as they swung. “She’s bored. Living in Kansas can do that to you. I’m thinking about visiting her this weekend. She wants to pull a prank on one of her teachers and could use the backup, I think.”

Mitchell nodded slowly. “That’s…nice of you. When was the last time you two met up?”

“Two weeks ago. I missed her, thought why not.” Mitchell shot him a surprised look that had him laughing.

Travis winked at him, “Mom’s an airline stewardess. We fly free.”

Mitchell blinked, “Oh, yeah. I forgot. Well, that’s nice. Tell her I said hello and that she’s my favorite.”

“Will do.” Travis told him with a grin, turning his head so he could spy on his younger brother passed out on the couch. ”Monsters Inc.? How’d you know?”

Mitchell shrugged, scrubbing at a plate stain particularly hard. “He mentioned it once. It’s his favorite sick day movie.”

Travis raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been forced to watch it twice a year or so since we were kids. What’s yours?”

Mitchell snorted. “Spaceballs.” He shrugged at Travis’s laughter, rinsing off the bubbly dishes. “It’s a classic.”

“Can’t fight that. I always been more of a Good Burger kind of guy.”

Mitchell nodded in approval. That was one of Asher’s favorites, and he’d been forced to listen to the dialogue play in the background of their cabin for years. He finished up the dishes, feeling completely at home in the apartment, and tried not to bicker with Travis too loudly.

Later, his boyfriend would wake up lovingly tucked in in his own bed, Mitchell curled into his side, and he’d smile a bit too softly to be anything but lovesick.

#i should be studying for finals #listen the ending is pure sugar #and i hate myself for it omfg #conchell #fic #my fic #rosy writes #mitchell #mitchell my son #I am in love with connor stoll #connor stoll #lovesick

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