#Its fine for an indie and the sound is good and the crowd is into it and the commentary rocks

[bang-bang-gang]

are you ever just so hopelessly in love with a wrestler that hearing her music and vaguely seeing her shape through the shitty camera setup makes you stop crying in frustration about your stupid crochet

[pop-punklouis]

I feel it's not fair at all, poppunk is not my type, On the other hand, I love Louis's voice in 1d songs, and back to you , and couple songs from walls album. And that's it, I don't have anything new to listen to from him. I know this is my problem and my musical taste and it's not Louis's fault. But come on do something like back to you that more people loved it, what's wrong with that? If we want to be logical pop punk has its own fans but they are in the minority.

I know his prejudice fans always says, that's fine, he'll be fine, don't worry about him, let Louis be for us, we don't want to share him, becoming number one is not his goal, but isn't it? Wasn't he happy when he was number one in the UK? I know the fans made it , but it's not like Louis said I'd be upset if I became number one and I don't want it and I refuse to accept it.

He says he doesn't care about commercial success, but who wouldn't want that. When you have the ability and talent, what's wrong with using it and singing a song that will bring everyone's attention to you? I really don't understand why Louis doesn't want to sing something that is popular with the majority of society?

1) this is such a weirdly self-serving ask of an artist like: “create music i want to listen to. if not, i cant listen to it and you’re not going to be successful.” perhaps, louis isn’t making music for you but for himself and if that isn’t for you, that’s fine. but that doesn’t mean he isn’t successful…..?

2) louis made mainstream pop music with one direction for five years. and tried his own hand at it for the first half of his solo career. he’d been in that world for a decade. and for his solo career, it wasn’t really that successful. and most importantly he wasn’t happy??

3) louis has made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to make pop music. that his heart belonged in the indie rock/pop-punk scene. and always has. there’s been remnants of that in his style, his interests, and some of his music for years. he’s given countless interviews and talked himself about the pressure that was put on him to dress up as someone he wasn’t with these major record labels. to hide his accent. to create radio friendly music. to be a puppet on a string for them. he wasted years of his career dealing with that pressure and those contracts.

4) FITF, an album that was created as the most authentic body of work he’s released yet, is what got him the number one. it wasn’t walls. it wasn’t any of the strictly EDM work he released. it was FITF. it was an album that featured the sound that he loves and wants to strive towards going forward. it was louis clear vision babe.

5) louis has seen a growth in his career and his venue sizes that is exponential in just one year. and this isn’t because he’s releasing mainstream pop music. it’s because he’s being authentically him. his music is better. his tour is bigger. his presence is brighter. it’s gravitating so much good his way because of the content he’s creating and how it’s translating to his crowds and him as an artist. he’s a much more confident person than he was just a couple years ago. he’s a much more self-assured person.

6) FITF is part of the reason he’s being booked for these festivals now. it allowed him the growth in his fanbase and live shows to attract fests. if he was still creating music like Walls, i’m not sure if it would be shaking out the same way. and with how his music sounds now, it is open to attracting new fans especially in these big festival settings. most of the songs from walls don’t have the capacity to do that. and that’s just the reality.

7) there isnt just one metric of success. success has many different forms. numbers and charts aren’t the only way to succeed. and louis has lived in that world of success. he’s done all of those things. he’s hit those milestones. they feel good, but they aren’t a driving force behind why he does what he does. he does what he’s doing now because he’s finally being able to show who he is sonically. who he is as a lyricist. who he wants to continue growing into going forward in his career. he’s succeeding through his own journey in the industry. and he’s doing a damn good job controlling that for himself.

8) there’s nothing wrong with pop music. i love pop music. there’s a reason why pop music is popular. but asking your favorite artist to reshape who they’ve steadily been building themselves to be all because you don’t like the sound and you think they need to follow a one-dimensional version of success is….. sad lmao he has worked so hard to be where he is. to feel authentic in the music he’s putting out. and for someone to be like “um anyways i don’t like this. go back to what you were trying so hard to not be. i liked your music better that way” is just ????

9) indie-rock isn’t unsuccessful. it isn’t dead. it’s very alive and successful. genres don’t have to be pop or mainstream to be successful. give music much more credit than that, please.

[rabbitechoes]

so i'm doing these songs posts weekly now instead of monthly to hopefully, 1. make things feel a bit more fresh and relevant and 2. cover more songs!! chose a pretty uneventful week to start doing this tho!! i also threw in two songs from the tail-end of last month at the start of this because they rule and i wanted to shout them out. anyways, enjoy!!! also feel free to follow me on rate your music and twitter <3

"HEATDEATH" - NOISE ARTIFACT

◇ released: June 28, 2024 ◇ genres: electronica, indietronica

I was going to add this to my post from last month, but I hit the image limit!!! I had to shout this out somewhere on here though, so I'm doing it now. I found out about this song and NOISE ARTIFACT on Twitter. This is some really solid, furry, indietronica with some incredible synth-work. Also some really raw and confessional songwriting which sounds suffocating under all of the electronic instrumentation. Really digging this song, definitely gonna keep an eye out for more of her stuff in the future!

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"Lift You Up" - Jessie Ware & Romy

◇ released: June 30, 2024 ◇ genres: diva house, dance-pop

This was also released at the tail-end of June, but I'm counting it here! Jessie Ware teams up with The xx's Romy for a sleek diva house cut. I've loved Ware's last two records and I've recently been going through The xx's catalog - in which Romy is always a highlight. These two just have such a fun dynamic. That chorus is also electric. This just makes you want to move!!!

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"Ever Seen" - beabadoobee

◇ released: July 1, 2024 ◇ featured on This is How Tomorrow Moves (not yet released) ◇ genres: indie pop, folk pop

This is fine! Nothing too exciting about this track unfortunately. This shift into more folk stylings has kinda proven to be a bit of a detriment to beabadoobee, although I did enjoy "Take a Bite" a good bit. These songs just sort of make her feel like another face in the crowd. The unique presence she had across her last album isn't here on a lot of these new tracks. Guess we'll just have to wait and see how the album plays out!

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"Lithonia" - Childish Gambino

◇ released: July 2, 2024 ◇ featured on Bando Stone & the New World (not yet released) ◇ genres: psychedelic rock, alternative rock, psychedelic soul

I'm of two minds on this new Childish Gambino single. In one mind, I feel like this song is overdramatic and suffocating to its detriment. In the other, imagining this in the context of his new album and film on the way it could be a very climactic high. I guess we will see, but for now I'll just say I like it. I never really dove into his last album, nor its re-release, but I've been waiting for Donald Glover to make more wild, psychedelic stuff like Awaken, My Love so this is definitely a step in the direction I want.

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"Tobey" - Eminem, Big Sean, & Babytron

◇ released: July 2, 2024 ◇ featured on The Death of Slim Shady (not yet released) ◇ genre: pop rap

Irritating in different, a bit more tolerable ways, than "Houdini," which had all of the millennials doing cartwheels, but I'm still not really wowed by this. Eminem is usually the worst thing about an Eminem song so having him obscured by both Big Sean and Babytron, two other Detroit rappers, does make this a better listen. Still nothing remarkable, they sound awkward as hell over this beat. My hopes for this album are not high at all, but such is the case for Eminem past the 2000s.

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"HUMBLE ME" - Killer Mike

◇ released: July 2, 2024 ◇ genre: southern hip hop

Killer Mike is frustrating. He's a good rapper and a razor-sharp writer who occasionally has precision many of his contemporaries do not - but then he'll do something totally contradictory and dumb. Anyways, this new song has him tackling his arrest at the Grammy Awards a few months ago after he won Rap Album of the Year among other things, it's just a general hype-up song. It's fine, nothing too special.

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"Tough" - Quavo & Lana Del Rey

◇ released: July 3, 2024 ◇ genres: trap, alt-pop, alternative r&b

Quavo and Lana Del Rey collab for the second time in their careers, the first time being on Lana's Lust for Life record, for a song that is pretty decent. Lana has been teasing her country era following her wonderful album from last year, which was my second favorite album of the year, leaving me with a lot of trepidation. She slides on this track, cowgirl boots and all, to do her thing - or maybe "thang" depending on how country she goes from here. Quavo also delivers a decent performance and the two have better chemistry than you would expect. The bridge and the chorus towards the end are easily the highlight of the song, I love that part even if the song on the whole doesn't fully grab me. Not sure where this leads for either artist, this could just be a fun one-off!

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"Overture" - The Voidz

◇ released: July 4, 2024 ◇ featured on Like All Before You (not yet released) ◇ genres: ambient, neo-psychedelia, chillsynth

Not much to say about this song, it's basically a minute-long teaser, but The Voidz are returning for a new album soon! This single is kinda pointless so I hope we get something a bit more substantial in the weeks to come. Reminds me that I also need to revisit their last album, I remember liking a good bit of it.

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"JOYRIDE" - Kesha

◇ released: July 4, 2024 ◇ genres: romanian popcorn?, dance-pop, dutch house

Kesha has been embroiled, unfortunately, in more drama surrounding her and Dr. Luke as he seems to have produced a washed-up popstar's comeback single about women empowerment that is set to drop in a few weeks. Sorry, didn't mean to get involved myself. Kesha cuts through all the noise with this crazy dance-pop, house cut with accordions and whatnot. It's ... a lot. I'm not sure if everything works, but it certainly sounds interesting. She carries herself like a diva here, but it's over this goofy house beat. Y'know what? It kinda rules. You go girl!!! The accordion is making a comeback!!! Be on the lookout!!

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"Worldwid3" - femtanyl feat. zombAe

◇ released: July 4, 2024 ◇ genres: industrial hip hop, digital hardcore

In celebration of hitting 100k subscribers on her YouTube channel, rising digital hardcore artist femtanyl dropped a new song with zombAe. This is a fun little song with some cool production moments, which is to be expected given her past work. The main focus is zombAe's rapping and she does a good job, although I do wish there was a better balance between the two artists. This mostly just feels like a fun one-off.

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psssst. i made a discord server called COSMIACORD ... if u wanna join and have fun, talk about music, play fortnite, or whatever here's the invite :3 https://discord.gg/rsHMenTU

[rjwukong]

Comfort Crowd

The six eared macaque was alone, always has been. Ever since His revival, ever since He helped Mk defeat the lady bone demon.. He was alone. No longer had chains to pull Him down, to make him panic and do things He never once wanted to do. So He roamed the mortal realm in search for something interesting to do. He roamed the city first, He didn't have that chance when the lady bone demon had His tail in a twist, so He decided to do just that. Putting on a glamour and stealing a cheese tea from a vendor and walking away swiftly, He suddenly bumped into someone, spilling his cheese tea a little, He groaned, looking at who He seemed to bump into. Seeing Your frame made Him raise His brow, You were.. interesting, timid, too. "I'm sorry!- I didn't see you, oh my goodness I'm so sorry" You took out some wipes from your bag, wiping the cheese tea on His scarf He cringed at that, pushing You gently "hey, its okay" He grabbed the wipes from Your hand gently, grazing Your fingers for a second.. wow, weren't You just soft. He wiped the cheese tea off His scarf, He smiled gently at you. You apologized yet again, His ear twitched. "as I've said, its fine..Mx..?" You soon said Your name, His ear twitched at Your finger picking. He smiled yet again "well, Mx.L/N, I should be the one saying sorry to You, I was the one who bumped into You first" You shook your head "no, no, its fine, we both couldn't have seen it coming haha..ha.." Awkward silence filled You two, until You spoke again "well.. I should be going now" you smiled at him He rose his brow at Your smile, the way Your lips curled perfectly and the way it complimented the rest of Your features made Him interested He smiled back "alright then, Mx. L/N, see You around" He moved first, moving away from You as You did the same. That was nice, having to talk to a human without them being afraid. A few days have passed and He found himself stalking you. He didn't know why, He just did after a few days of not having anything to do. If you're wondering how He knows where you live then it was easy, really. He just listened to your voice. He knows it's weird to remember your voice after just a short conversation, but what can he do? He just remember's your voice. He saw you listen to some calm music and would sometimes listen with you, through a window, on your roof. He also loved how it was in a low volume, He appreciated it. Soon enough, He built up enough courage to encounter you face to face again. You were sitting on a bench, enjoying a book before He at next to you "oh hey, Mx. L/N, was it?" Your head shot up to the sound of his voice You squinted and blinked for a second before smiling "oh, its you, hello cheese tea man" He cringed at that "call me Charlie" You tilted your head "Charlie? sounds western" He seemed to unconsciously follow your movements, tilting his head too "The other half of my family are western" He shrugged, and you giggled. he rose his brow "whats so funny?" he smiled and you looked at him "my family is western too.." you then covered your mouth "but i don't think charlie is a fitting name for you" His brow twitched, tilting his head to the other side "what do you mean?" you hummed "you don't look like a charlie" he rose his brow again and chuckled "yeah?" you smiled "yeah" and that was the start of a friendship that flourished. You've learned that he wasn't really human, and he was the six eared macaque that you've read in the book journey to the west. You both grew closer over time, eventually inviting each other to your homes(mainly yours since his place was just a dojo) Every now and then you'd invite Macaque into your place to watch and hang out, and there was this one time where you were just in your room, laying down with music in the background "The music sounds western, who wrote it?" you smiled, never taking your eyes off your book "just some indie songs, specifically Conan gray"

His ears twitched at the music "Sounds good" he whispered to himself suddenly, comfort crowd started to play and you both were suddenly.. tired, huffing, he laid on the floor, with his hands behind his head and he looked stiff, you frowned "hey, macaque" "hm?" "do you want to lay with me?" He rose his brow and laughed "at least take me on a date first" You threw a pillow at him and laughed "not like that, you perv" you sat up and patted the bed, he stood up and hesitated for a bit, before lying down with you. You ended up liking his warmth and chose to be greedy, cuddling with him now. Macaque was confused on what to feel, but he felt.. nice, it felt nice to have someone this close sometimes. He sighed happily, playing with your hair. Soon enough you fell asleep in his arms. He smiled softly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. Maybe he didn't need a crowd for comfort, he just needed you.

[littlethingwithfeathers]

I admit... I just love these...

1. Are you named after anyone?

Storytime.

So I was supposed to be named after both my grandmothers. But one of my grandmothers was like “Don’t name her after me! She’ll sound like an old lady and she’ll hate it!” So my mom said “FINE! If she’s born on your birthday, we won’t name her after you.”

That would put me at two weeks late...

I’m named after the Allman Brothers Song “Sweet Melissa.”

2. When was the last time you cried? Earlier this week. I cry when I get frustrated so it’s a pretty regular thing unfortunately. Big feelings, good or bad, come straight out of my eyeballs.

3. Do you have kids? Nope. Not human ones anyway. Never had a desire to have kids, and I’ve always felt like that’s something you should do with your whole everything.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? More than I should.

5. What sports do you play/have played? I never did sports. I attended a basketball camp for about a day and a half before I decided that there was entirely too much yelling. My physical activity of choice was dance and marching band. And eventually hiking.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people? Usually their tone of voice.

7. What's your eye color? green

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. of those two. As far as movies go, my preference is for things like spy flicks, heists, action movies, and sometimes a good spooky story (think Sixth Sense and not The Ring).

9. Any special talents? I’m a really good cook. Like not a chef or anything, but like... I can make soup out of anything. I can feed a crowd on a budget. And I’m pretty good at it. I’m also very good at being calm in an emergency. I think it’s actually an anxiety thing... I’m anxious all the time so I’m used to dealing with it and thinking through it.

10. Where were you born? Skipping, sorry.

11. What are your hobbies? Cooking, video games (usually things like Stardew Valley, Darkest Dungeon... more indie stuff than Triple A), crocheting, Magic the Gathering, gardening, and sometimes writing.

12. Do you have pets? I have two cats! Kaylee and Inara. They’re useless and adorable.

13. How tall are you? 5'9"

14. Favorite subject in school? It really depended on the teacher... But I guess it would be history or literature, but I had teachers that made it me hate it desperately. But if I was going to go back to college for a class of my choosing it would probably be philosop

15. Dream job? Honestly... I don’t know anymore. And I’m okay with that. I had a career in theatre for about ten years that I just recently left behind because the industry is acutely toxic locally. (it’s toxic everywhere... but the local scene has its own brand). Right now... honestly I’m enjoying being a homeowner. Like... that’s my job. I keep our house running. And... maybe I’ll get bored with that. And when I do I’ll find something else to do, but until then, I’ll enjoy my little garden and my kitchen and playing video games and doing laundry... honestly I enjoy laundry day more than I enjoyed my old job at the point I quit.  So... yeah. Dunno at this point. Cause I like my life.

I was tagged by @serenitynerd! Mwah, lovely! And I tag... whoever wants to do this. And @hawthorneox, who now must complete due to honor or some shit.

[transmissionsfromthebattlefield]

Just Want A Way Not To Be What Gets Sold To Me

Two weekends ago I got the chance to see a show by three of today’s most eye-catching and intriguing bands at Baltimore’s Metro Gallery. In complete contrast, this past weekend, I got the chance to see a group entirely associated with the nineties at the same exact venue.

The former experience was eye opening and, holy crap, oozing fun from all its pores. It ultimately made me feel some solace for our world to see that there’s still people out there bringing fresh creative perspectives to the table. The latter was similarly affirming. Post-hardcore group Jawbox reunited in 2019 after twentysome years of dormancy, but the pandemic put their live schedule on hold. Now, they’re back, and they proved last weekend that they’re just as strong as ever.

Tickets to Jawbox. Sold out show. Let’s go.

I’m lucky I got to go at all, really. I had waken up that morning to discover that my house had been terrorized by about four inches of snow in the middle of March. Somehow, despite the weather’s continued divebombing of my town as the day went on, the roads were cleared up enough by the afternoon to facilitate the drive down to the Metro.

The night opened with an acoustic set by Ken Chambers of indie rock group Moving Targets, who were supposed to perform but had to compromise after a COVID case among their ranks. His set was solid and a welcome escape from the frigid cold outside, and overall it laid a nice primer for the heavier music that followed.

What followed next left me slightly speechless out of pure excitement that I was seeing the mighty Jawbox once and for all. In retrospect, I guess there isn’t too much for me to say about the torrent the Jawbs unleashed on their audience—their blistering performance spoke for itself. Every member of the band was in their full element. To my far right, vocalist and guitarist J. Robbins could have stepped out of a bootlegged video of one of their 90s peak performances with the raw intensity of his presence. Kim Coletta supplied the low end with a monstrous bass tone that rumbled the building as she romped across center stage. Behind her, drummer Zach Barocas’ metronomic skills were tight and powerful, providing the perfect backbone to their herky-jerky post-hardcore compositions. And the group’s most recent addition, rhythm guitarist Brooks Harlan, fit right in amongst the high energies of the rest of the gang.

Their collective sonic attack was very satisfying, to say the least. And had the show attracted a younger crowd—the room was mostly populated of people who I assumed listened to the band in their nineties youths—I’d bet the entire house would’ve been as rowdy as it got the previous week! It was clear they were good to be back.

I’m grateful I got that chance to see such powerful music in such an intimate setting. It goes to show how a group who last gave it their all twentysome years ago can still pack the same punch today. The sounds that they unleashed onto the world back then remain shocking, exciting, and fulfilling. Their relevancy never faded. It’s a shame the world still hasn’t caught up with them and so many others.

It’s a disappointing and grueling reality that groups as sharp as Jawbox’s gnashers constantly get overlooked in favor of much duller selections. But spreading the word and continuing to solder on as they do only helps their cause. Luckily, it looks like they’re keeping up just fine in that regard.

And, besides, it’s a nice escape from everyday banality to let yourself go crazy to “FF-66” from the front and center spot.

[akaashisupremacy]

Job Wanted: Boyfriend

Summary: Makki is callous w/ his words. After a big fight, he knows he needs to make changes. Can he make things work before it’s too late? 

Notes: Right on time for Hanamki’s birthday!! In the fic it’s his actual bday too lol!! Inspired by hcs about Hanamaki’s toxic traits that lives in my mind rent free!

January Fic List || Masterlist || Read it on Ao3

Hanamaki  x reader  

genre: ANGST, lovers to exes to ??, pining, tw: toxic-ish relationship (wc: 1.9 k)

“It’s not my job to be your boyfriend.” Takahiro Hanamaki mutters with his arms crossed, “Stop trying to police what I have to say!”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. You knew it was over between you two then and there.

You met Makki while working in a soba restaurant. He was charismatic, smart and efficient. Whenever you two were on the same shift, he tried to make the work fun. You both started hanging out after work—indie films in the university theatre, library study sessions, walks home after work. Makki even traded shifts just to see you more often.

All you were asking from him was to be more sensitive. Enough was enough. Sure he liked you and you liked him, but compatibility was a separate thing altogether. He knew you were touchy about comments on your art, your looks and your confidence, but he just didn’t know when to shut up.

“You’re wearing that sweater really?”

“This piece looks okay, like subpar on a good day.”

If he doesn’t want to have to be careful with his words, then  you don’t want to have to be around him. You swiftly grab your things and walk out the door. When it finally sinks into him two seconds later, he stumbles onto the door apologizing. You refuse to hear any of it.

“I didn’t mean it-- ”

But fun hang outs and serious dating are two different things, and the end of your relationship proved just that.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Makki tries to apologize to you when he sees you, but nothing seems to work. Eventually he gives in and allows you both to drift apart—he stops catching you in the library and trading shifts, which was fine by you.

After a few months, Makki finds himself staring at his phone one fateful afternoon. He’s still debating whether to make the call or not. In the end, he shrugs his shoulders. There’s really nothing to lose.

When you see his name, you pick up because of your curiosity more than anything.

“To what do I owe this occasion?” you snort. You hear him repress a chuckle.

“Damn, I haven’t said anything yet and you’re hostile already.” he laughs. You threaten to put the phone down.

“Hey, on my last birthday you said that may all your wishes come true, right? Well, my next birthday is coming up and my wish is to spend the day with you.”

“I’m in Kyoto right now. You’re in Tokyo.” you point out. You are both on semestral break. Has he already forgotten that you spend your breaks with your grandmother in Kyoto?

“I’ll take the day off and I’ll come down to see you.” he holds his breath as he waits to hear your answer, “We haven’t hung out in a while.” he adds casually.

“Can’t you just spend it with someone else?” you sigh somewhat resigned, “The not hanging out part is on you. Don’t put that on me.”

You could hear him thoughtfully inhale on the phone before he replies, “No, I want to spend it with you. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see Kyoto.”

“I’m ending the call now.” you roll your eyes, unnerved by the whole conversation. The audacity of this man!

“I promise I won’t do anything or say anything dumb!” you hear him yell over the phone as you get ready to end the conversation.

“Sure.” You click the end call button.

———————————————————————

On his birthday, you do go out with him. You find yourself waiting at the Kyoto Central Station, wading through the crowds to find his light brown head searching intently for you. He smiles when he sees you. You feel a mixture of sadness and nerves. You’d never thought he’d be so callous with you when he first smiled at you like this.

If anything, today is little more than a break from work. You’re also determined to be so quiet to the point of cold to make the experience so awkward he’ll never want to come to you again.

“I really want to change.” is the first thing he says to you over doughnuts and coffee.

Makki can easily tell that you are still not back to your old self. Despite the strong smell of brewed coffee that pervades the Kyoto Central Station, you sit quietly on your seat distractedly eating a sandwich.

You almost pretend to not hear him. Instead you turn to him with a blank expression in your face and look away.

“I’m serious. I know I have a problem. You’re not the first person to leave me for the things I’ve said.” he adds.

“I’m sure the next person you date will appreciate that.” you mumble diplomatically.

“Don’t give up on me.” you hear his voice pleading, his eyes sincere and not their usual sleepy nonchalance.

You put down the donut and cross your arms, “I don’t owe you a second chance. You know that, right?”

“I’m really sorry—“

“Makki, I hate so many things about myself. I don’t need you to taunt or repeat them to me. You’re an above average friend at best, but you’re a terrible person to date. I can’t even call you my boyfriend because you you said it wasn’t your ‘job.’” you sigh deeply with your hand on your forehead, “Can you see why I’m not enthusiastic about you?”

Announcements left and right and the ceaseless shuffling of the busy station fill the voids of your conversation.

“So why spend the day with me?” he pauses, eyes wide with curiosity looking straight into yours.

“To prove a point to you. Even when you’ve made the effort to come down here, you’re finding it difficult to watch what you say. Do you find that sustainable?” you tilt your head inquiringly.

He nods, less confident than usual “I want it to be sustainable.” There was some uncertainty in his eyes.

“I can already see it, Makki. Two weeks of this and you’ll be ready to blow your top because you’ll be tired from having to be on edge all the time.”

“I’ve got to start somewhere, right? It’s a change of mindset I’m realizing, but it’s not impossible. I’ve been trying to be more careful and it’s been easier. I’m just a little tense because I’m around you today.” he says quietly, “I’m really trying. I promise.”

“Feels nice to be the one that’s not tense,” you let slip a smirk.

———————————————————————————————

At the end of the day, you’re back at the train station with Makki beside you. You’ve taken him to see the Golden Pavilion and its surrounding touristy streets. You stop by a bookstore and a shop for sweets. You buy a book, he buys mochi. Despite your coldness, Makki was intent on catching up with you. He wants to know what you’ve been up to, what movies you’ve been catching, what your grandmother’s inn is like. It’s difficult not to warm up to him.

“Can I kiss you goodbye?” he abruptly asks before heading to his platform. You’ve made your way back down to the center of the train station where all the schedule is displayed.

The first time Makki held your hand was in a train station in Tokyo. You were on your way back from a concert when he slipped his hand into yours in the busy platforms. You don’t pull away, instead you hold on tight. You remember pressing your head against his chest on the ride home, his chin resting on the top of your head. Neither of you said much. The companionship was more than enough. That moment seems so long ago.

“No.” you swiftly reply.

“Not even a forehead kiss?”

You firmly shook your head. You half expect him to insist and push, to say something about you being a prude and playing hard to get, but instead he just nods.

“Can I hold your hands? I want to hold you before I go.” Makki doesn’t murmur nor is he reticient. He speaks in his regular tone, extending his hands to meet your midway.

You hesitate at first then grudgingly agree. You reach out to hold him, your fingers lingering on each other’s barely interlaced.

“Let me know when you’re coming back to Tokyo. I can meet you at the train station and help you with your luggage.” he waves before turning his back. You watch him get lost in the crowd of the station.

After Makki leaves, you head back to the inn to help with the dinner service which is more crowded than usual. Your Obasan is grateful that you made it back.

Towards the end of dinner service, your phone rings incessantly. You curse and head outside of the kitchen to quickly answer the call. Of course, it’s from Hanamaki.

“You could’ve just texted.”

“I miss you already. I just wanted to hear your voice.” he says. His usual flirtatious tone is absent.

“Now that you’ve heard it, can you put it down? I need to go. Obasan needs my help.” you whisper hurriedly, “Now is a terrible time to call.”

“If you want to stop talking, you don’t need to drag your grandma into this.”

“I’m serious, she needs help washing the dishes. You can call later when we’re done with tonight’s service.” you chastise him, “We’re a little short staffed in the kitchen. You should know what it’s like.”

You rush back in to help wash the dishes as your Obasan brings more dirty trays of dishes. Momentarily you put Makki out of your mind. But when the inn becomes quiet again, you pull out your phone and stare at it.

Do you make the call again? After ten minutes of indecision, you give in and make the call.

Makki sounds slightly surprised on the other end of the line, “Done with dinner service?” He probably expected you to not follow through.

“Yeah, done for today.”

He clears his throat, “I slipped something into the book you bought. Did you see it yet?”

You put the phone down to reach for your bag. A thin white envelope is sandwiched between the first page and the cover. You open it up. He hears you unfolding the letter.

“Care to explain?” you ask with an eyebrow raised as you read through the lines. Hanamaki Takahiro sent you a resume…?

“It’s my application—“

“We don’t need another dishwasher here. Besides, you live too far away.” you cut him off.

“To date you.” he finishes. You’re too stunned to reply. You feel your heart skip a beat as you fumble at your phone.

“Don’t pass your judgement just yet.” he adds, “I know I have a lot to prove. I want it to be my job to love you and make you happy. Just know that.”

“...I’m not sure I want to give you a second chance.” you whisper, your voice inevitably cracking. You clutch the envelope a little too tightly, accidentally crumpling it.

Makki pauses before answering, “That’s up to you, but I-I’ll be here in case you do. Anyways, thanks for spending the day with me. I missed you a lot and I’d like to come back someday…if you can let me come over.”

You listen to him breathe in the other end of the line. You imagine him twiddling with a pen with one hand and his phone on the other.

“Goodnight, Makki.” you nod. You missed him too and you want him to come back. You don’t say yes or no, nor will you make promises. For now you let things hang in the balance.

------------------------------------------------

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[petscrub]

long post about my show

sorry idk how to do a read more on mobile

sooo about my show last night lmao. i was definitely nervous and i think it ofc reflected on me during the performance which is like. ok. thats fine, i expected that. when i got there there wasn’t a lot of ppl there and i talked to a few ppl and they were nice and friendly. and then later i started to set up my stuff and we had to find the right plugs and cords and such for my laptop but eventually we got it working. my music sounded p good all loud and stuff. and then as ppl slowly started to come in i went up to perform and i felt a bit awkward mainly bc there werent too many ppl and i was just singing. i think what will help my significantly in the future is having something to do whether playing the guitar or piano (preferably guitar) bc i just do not consider myself a singer and for that to be the only thing going on for me was kinda taking me out of the zone. i danced a little but the crowd was like. not dead? but not very dance-y. i wanted them to really vibe and there were a few people who were but majority were just kinda softly bopping their heads or something which is fine ig. i thought i didnt sound very good on the mic (probs bc first time performing live and it was hard to hear myself) but then i saw a video of me singing later and i think it was decent and better than what i thought. i did have some fun and it was nice to hear everyone cheer and clap and what not after each song that definitely held me in there. but overall i think the vibe was not mine. like it was so indie which is kinda my thing but not entirely. it was almost like. straight white indie. not like gay indie u know ? everyone seemed pretty straight (lots of very obviously cis straight girls and boys). and they seem to be the kinda music lovers who probably froth at the mouth when listening to like. phoebe bridgers. idk i say this bc the guy who went on after me was very good but he just had his guitar and sang. no backup instrumentals at all. and he sounded great! but it was just that kinda vibe that was so different than mine. i knew absolutely no oneeee there. and everyone loved this guy after me bc they all KNEW him. like lifelong friends. and the straight girls next to me were like wetting themselves just watching him lmfao. i was like ok yea i dont see myself really making a lot of friends at this place. or in general anywhere hahahah. i talked to some guys who were really chill and nice and honestly i got much better vibes from the straight guys than i did from the girls ? idk. they just seemed like they were there for the cute boys while the guys were there bc they are genuine music nerds. and they were very sweet to me for the most part. very helpful as well. i just felt very out of place and uncomfy bc i obviously dont know what im doing when it comes to this kinda stuff yet. so i decided to leave after the second set and i felt kinda bad about it but my thoughts were building up and i was like ok i gotta go. so on the train ride home i felt intensely suicidal, like more so than i usually get. i cried on the train and i think its honestly mainly bc i dont feel like i belong anywhere and that i will never find a place where i do feel myself and understood and accepted. and i kinda spiraled. after some reflection with gf when i got home, i realized it wasn’t even so much the performance that made me feel bad but just the thought of loneliness and how i feel like i will never fit in anywhere or make friends that are really meaningful to me. it made me wanna give up in the moment. in music and in life lol but i do know i tend to be a black or white kinda person. anyway. hopefully for my next show ill be more prepared and also be able to play some parts of my music live bc i think that will be what saves me really. and makes me have a good time. and also hopefully i will be in an environment that vibes more with what im putting out there. although i did got a lot of compliments on my set, like everyone was pretty supportive. it just felt weird.

[choco-glow]

Fall Like Rain On Sunday, Pt. 10

Jason woke up around five am, bleary and in a tangle of blankets again from yet another nightmare…Sweat-soaked, he peeled himself out of his bed with a grimace and stripped first himself, then the bed, tossing everything into his washing machine before turning on the shower and stepping inside. Lukewarm woke him up a little better than hot right now, and felt better on his scarred skin; he leaned heavily against the tile, head tipped back as his waterfall nozzle rained down on him. The familiar sound of the washer going was a comfort, and piece by piece, he brought himself back to the present, breathing slowly, evenly, just as Bruce had taught him all those years ago…

“…Fuck.” He sighed out, and started washing up, glad for the indie shop he supported down the street that made its own soaps, shampoos, and conditioners. They were bar form, of course, but the natural scents helped ground him…anything heavily chemically scented was too triggering, too much like the factory he’d died in. A lot of things triggered that…tannerite, for one, which was why in all his varied explosions, he’d only ever used C4. Iron…He unconsciously touched the cheekbone that Talia had had her surgeons rebuild, for even the Pit couldn’t do everything. Not on a body that had been so badly brutalized that it’d been a closed casket funeral…

“Knock it off, Todd.” He growled out to himself, scrubbing furiously now. Fuckin’ don’t go down that path again, Jason…you know where it leads. Besides, you promised you’d make waffles this morning. Can’t leave a lady waiting. Steph’s smile filled his mind, and Jason relaxed, as he had for months now around his Batgirl…and he felt a tiny smile tug at his lips. He didn’t have a waffle iron; he rarely did more than griddle cakes, eggs, and bacon for himself, and that’s when he felt like cooking, so it was a good thing he’d woken up before his alarm; he had time to run to the nearest Lux-Mart. He finished his shower, relaxed now, and other than rescuing his book from the floor and setting it on his nightstand, left his bed to airdry for a while; he’d learned that lesson the hard way.

Dark jeans, boxer-briefs, a soft tee shirt, socks, his boots, and a hoodie, and he was ready to brave the pre-dawn crowds. He twirled his keys on one finger as he made his way down the stairs to his garage, and side-stepped the engine for Roy’s Corvette, unlocking the truck and opening the door with a flick of a button. It was dark still; small wonder, it was just barely five forty-five, and the sun wouldn’t be up for another hour or so…the garage door slid closed behind him with a whisper, and Jason set out for the Lux-Mart, following the main roads this morning, since they weren’t clogged yet by the early morning commuters. A few early birds passed him, and he waved at the Batmobile as they both continued on out of the city, since the nearest of Lux Luthor’s monster all-in-one stores was in the suburbs on the mainland.

Jason’s phone buzzed, and he answered it on the dash with a grin, glad for his blue-tooth dashboard connection.

“Hey Pops.”

“I thought that was you, Jason…what has you out so early?” Bruce’s voice was warm, exhausted, but for once, actually pretty damned friendly, and Jason hummed a little, smirking to see the ‘mobile keeping pace with him.

“Well, I promised I’d bring Steph waffles this morning as incentive to get her homework done…and then I realized I didn’t have a waffle iron.” Bruce laughed at that, low and surprisingly genuine, while he heard a squawk from Tim. Now, he didn’t…completely hate his replacement in the Robin line-up; certainly, he adored Steph and Damian. But Tim was…well, everything that Jason hadn’t ever been, and Jason was still too aware of how similar Tim and Bruce really were. Dick had commented on it, last time he’d come up from Bludhaven, and if Dick could see it…well. Jason still felt like he’d been the downgrade from Dick, and that Tim was the super upgrade.

It wasn’t true…but emotions could be ugly, ugly things.

And Tim had stolen his ex-girlfriend’s waffles.

“Well then, that makes complete sense…do you two need anything from us? We had a busy night dealing with Boyle again.” Jason winced; Ferris Boyle had been a problem since Bruce’s early days, even before Dick, and Jason hated the man almost as much as he hated Joker. Totally aside from how he’d fucked up Victor Fries, his actions regarding Nora had been absolutely appalling. He wanted custody of her so that he could experiment on her…and since Victor is now a supervillain…goddamn, I’m glad Bruce was able to win custody of her.

“Bastard…was he after Nora again?”

“And Victor. We convinced Fries to come back to Wayne Inc. and talk to us about Nora’s future; we’ve made some serious progress towards a cure, and with his research, we might just have what we need. And I’ve been working on something to help him as well…But we can talk about it later.” A yawn broke his sentence, and Jason smiled fondly.

“Go home, Pops; Steph and I will take patrol tonight. You two take the night off.”

“…Thank you, Jason. I really appreciate it; Damian and Tim do too.”

“Yes, thank you, akhi.” Damian’s voice was softer over the phone, tired, and Jason smiled, though he grit his teeth when Tim spoke up.

“Sure, thanks Hood. Hope you two actually get some patrolling done, and don’t just make out on a roof.”

“…Well, Timmy, I’m quite certain we’ll keep our professionalism at the fore. After all, we wouldn’t want to attract undue attention…like Kon did the other night.” Jason responded, voice sickeningly sweet as Tim choked over the phone call, and Bruce made an inquisitive noise.

“We were going over tactical plans!”

“Tim, I’m sure it’s fine.” Bruce’s voice was gentle, but curious, and Jason felt his grin stretch to maniacal proportions.

“Oh, of course you were! Silly ol’ me, ‘tactical plans’, of course! Must’ve been wall plans!” Jason replied sweetly, and Tim choked again, a strangled noise coming over the line. Bruce snorted suddenly, clearly understanding now, and Damian just sighed; Jason could almost hear his eyes rolling.

“Drake, do not give Todd grief for kissing; we all know you regularly have intercourse with Kon-El.” Tim’s voice was pitched even higher now, babbling as Bruce snorted again, clearly holding back laughter, and Jason snickered.

“Damian, Lil D, I want you to know how much I love you right now.”

“As I love and cherish you, akhi. Please do tell Grayson this.”

“DO NOT TELL DICK ANYTHING, JASON, I SWEAR TO GOD.”

“Then don’t steal Stephie’s waffles again, and I won’t~” He purred, and Tim let out a heavy sigh.

“…I apologize to her later.”

“So good to work with you, Tim, it’s just such a pleasure!”

“God, I hate you sometimes.” Bruce was laughing now, deep and highly amused, and Jason gave the ‘mobile a salute as he turned off towards the Lux-Mart, still snickering.

“Love you too, Timmy; good night, you three, I’m off to waffle-maker hunt.”

“Love you too, Jay; good luck! And tell Steph we love her too for me, will you?” Bruce asked, over the other twos’ groaning, and Jason chuckled.

“Of course, Pops. See ya.”

“See you.” The call winked out, and Jason pulled into the Lux-Mart, still grinning. He grabbed up his phone, double checked his wallet, and headed into the store, grabbing a cart. He didn’t want to buy a ton of stuff…but he knew he’d need more room than a basket. Appliances first; he grabbed a waffle-maker, one with interchangeable plates, and from the small selection, picked a Millennium Falcon and an Eevee (both for Steph), since they’d traded favorite Pokémon a few weeks ago, then favorite films. He was always looking for Pride and Prejudice/Sense and Sensibility stuff, or even just basic literary things, but hey, he liked Eevee too (even if his favorite was still Rapidash), and Star Wars was a familiar favorite from his childhood.

From there, he grabbed utensils that he knew he didn’t have, then a few things from pharmacy to cover his personal stores for the week. Bandages, wraps, gauze, alcohol…all the usual stuff, and then he made his way to the grocery area, where things were getting a little bit busier. Two boxes of waffle/pancake mix, maple syrup, and a carton of eggs; a package of bacon made the cut too, as did a gallon of milk, a bottle of his favorite fancy protein juice smoothie, and as he made his way into the produce section, a bag each of blackberries, raspberries, and blueberries. He also got a couple apples, good for a snack as well as baking into the batter, and a pair of pomegranates. Bananas too, just as small bunch, and a small tub of butter.

On a whim, he also grabbed sugary snacks for later, mostly Hostess cakes and some Little Debbie stuff, and a big bag of Chex Mix; not healthy, no, but they held up to patrols well, and he’d gone hungry too many nights to ever feel good about not having food around. Besides…his stay in the Lazarus Pit hadn’t just accelerated his healing factor…it’d forced his metabolism onto a higher level, and now he could almost match Kon pound for pound with food. He also grabbed some pizzas; just in case, he liked to have them. Checking his watch, Jason bit off a swear; it was seven am already, and it was easily a half-hour drive back into Gotham.

He got through self checkout with ease, and hauled his finds out of the store, leaving the cart at the entrance and legging it to his truck. To his surprise, clouds that hadn’t been visible in the darkness were rolling over the whole of Gotham City, heavy thunder rumbling out on the ocean, and in the low light from the rising sun, he made a few quick calculations. He had just enough time to get back to the city before the rain really started; he loaded up his backseat and tore ass out of the parking lot, hopping on the freeway in record time. He glanced around, confused at the lack of cars…then laughed to himself.

Of course it was empty; it was Sunday. I think I’m getting to love Sundays now…Jason thought to himself as he gunned it back to Steph’s place, settling back for the drive with a sigh. Just then, the familiar strains of ‘Home’ came onto the radio, and Jason grinned, then started singing along.

“I’m goin’ home…to the place where I belong…”

[serenasoutherlyns]

Full of Surprises ch. 1-3

casey/alex, past alex/olivia. semi-au & fuzzy timeline, set post season 9. cross-posted from ao3 so the first three chapters are coming at ya all at once. TW for series-typical violence, SA, and discussions of mental illness. less graphic than the show. Fluff, romance, angst! First three chapters are totally SFW.

And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, an empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

1 .

This wasn’t where Alex would usually find herself. Or at least, it didn’t used to be. Maybe it was now.

Emily had spent her evenings sat at a booth in the back of the local pub, watching and sketching. The books she’d filled, she kept them safely tucked in a box in the back of her closet, initialed “EC.” Alex couldn’t find it in her to draw much anymore.

Anne was alone more than not, spent long evenings reading philosophy, went running early mornings, yoga classes, taught herself guitar, filled hours on hours with ideas and exhaustion. Alex didn’t spend much time poring over The Republic these days, her guitar was long covered in dust.

In law school, her friends had a favorite table in the window of a little cafe, they would go from morning coffee to afternoon study to sharing bottles of red wine, coming and going as they pleased, debating with hopeful glimmers in their bright eyes. Late into the night, arm wrapped around Sylvia’s waist, listening to her classmates carry on, she’d watch the candles burn down. Sylvia had called her Lexi, whispered in her ear on night walks in the cold Cambridge air to their little apartment, gentle hands soothing her most anxious times. Alex hadn’t felt like that in years.

College weekends were spent at punk shows in basements, though she knows now nobody would believe it, young Alex Cabot (the nickname had been coined in those years, sharper edged than the elaborate Alexandra) knew how to have some fun, at least back then. She’d dyed her hair black and worn studs on her collar, had a reputation for being a player, and it seemed like the back of her right hand was constantly stained with marker residue. Sticky floors and lipgloss on her neck, so many firsts all at once.

Her evenings during her years in the DA’s office were usually full of work, except the odd night when she’d meet the detectives for a drink at their haunt or head out with the other ADAs to some upscale cocktail bar. Two different crowds with two different mentalities, the detectives were dedicated to a fault, while the prosecutors were insufferably full of themselves. The detectives would tire her out by 11:30, but she’d find an excuse to leave the ADA excursions before 9. Far more special were the many evenings spent in Olivia’s apartment drinking two beers each and filling the quiet air with soft laughter and conversation.

But a little library themed speakeasy? Not her typical place. Well. No time like the present to change one’s habits. She’d been recommended it by an old law school friend a couple weeks ago, bumped into him on a whim in a coffee shop, was surprised she wasn’t dead, had been there last night, said it was right up her alley. Its illicit vibe wasn’t exactly to ADA Cabot’s tastes, no. But it scratched something in Alex, that hadn’t been satisfied since those basement nights and cozy cafe afternoons. From the place’s shelves she’d pulled a book of Pre-Raphaelite poetry and sat in a comfy chair with a scotch and a San Pelligrino, pleased, at least, to be out of the apartment for the evening.

She didn’t need the money, but she’d been copyediting textbooks freelance, filling up her time with grammar and word choice. She’d been reading a lot of fiction. She adopted two extremely fluffy cats. It was a pleasant, if mundane, life. It turned out, Alex had realized, that there were plenty of eager and capable young attorneys who could do her former job as well as she ever had. She felt, finally, like she deserved a bit of a rest. Needed one, really. Someone would do the prosecuting. The thought of stepping back in the courtroom, looking at the bench, examining witnesses, made her feel sick to her stomach, though she had once loved that life. It wasn’t her anymore— maybe it never really had been. She decided this was her kind of place after all. This iteration of Alexandra Cabot would drink bubbly water in secluded speakeasies while reading poetry.

Alex didn’t expect to see anybody she knew, not somewhere you needed a password to get into, where the music was indie folk and old jazz from a vintage record player, the drinks had names like the “Lady Brett” and the “Daisy Buchanan,” and most of the patrons were dressed in flannel with their noses buried in old books. And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, a half-empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

This was surprising. Alex, though she hadn’t ever known Casey well, before her first brief return to life as Alex Cabot, only as one of the white collar ADAs (they ran in a bit of a pack, didn’t shy away from imitating the lifestyles of those they prosecuted). After knowing her as a prosecutor, Alex would expect to see Casey in a sports bar watching a game, or in some chrome-gilded bar with high ceilings drinking designer cocktails and cheering on a verbal showdown between her colleagues. Or in the center of a showdown like that. Not alone, writing in a moleskine, wearing a red flannel over a simple black dress. Casey was striking, Alex realized, before she realized she’d been looking a little longer than was considered normal. She hoped she didn’t seem like a creep watching from afar. She considered getting up, saying hello, but felt that Casey may not even remember her, may not want to be disturbed as she wrote, may not even recognize her anymore. She’d changed her appearance when she’d gone back to being Alex Cabot, cut her hair in a short bob, dyed it dark brown, wore thick rimmed glasses and simple clothing, too painful to be the formal blonde she used to be. Barely the same woman who’s once-murderer Casey had put behind bars those years ago.

Alex didn’t have to consider talking to Casey, however, because almost as soon as she returned to her book, she heard the sound of rubber soled sneakers against the old hardwood floors and a voice beside her.

“Hey stranger,” she said.

“Hi Casey,” Alex said as she slid her bookmark into place and looked up at the familiar face with a smile. “Care to join me?”

2 .

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Casey said as she sat down. “I’m allowed to, uh, talk to you right? Though I guess if I wasn’t you wouldn’t acknowledge me, which would be fine, by the way.” There was the Casey Alex remembered, her words getting ahead of her.

“It’s fine, I’m me again,” Alex said calmly, “It’s really good to see you, though I wouldn’t have imagined you to be the writing type, or the underground-library-bar type” Alex gestured to the leather notebook in Casey’s left hand.

“I’m full of surprises, Alexandra Cabot.” Casey said in a tone that suggested she was sarcastic, yet convinced Alex she was telling the truth. Alex sipped her water.

“What were you working on?” She asked, not wanting to pry, but very eager to catch up, to know why she was alone in a place like this.

“Oh, nothing, nothing interesting. Just some little bits and pieces.” Casey replied.

“Not argument notes on a Saturday night, I hope?” Alex asked, though she knew that she would’ve done the same thing back when she was in the DA’s office. Casey looked pale, uncomfortable for a moment. “I’m sorry,” Alex said, trying to soothe any pain she may have caused, though she couldn’t fathom why. “I don’t mean to bring up work when you’re trying to relax.” At this, Casey just looked confused.

“Alex, have you not heard?” Casey said, searching for signs of recognition in the woman’s eyes, but finding only further confusion continuing, her voice low, “I was censured a few months ago. I can’t practice law for at least three years.” Alex’s eyes opened wide and she set her glass down on the table between them. “I’m surprised the rumor hasn’t reached your circles yet, though I admit I’m glad I get to be the one to tell someone for a change.” Alex noticed Casey cross her arms together over her chest, closing herself up, making herself seem smaller.

It was quiet for a while, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald on the speakers, quiet conversations, and pages turning filling it. “I’m sorry, no, I hadn’t heard. That’s too bad. Do you want to talk about it?” Casey grinned at the suggestion, oddly intimate for the two women who, while they hardly knew each other, had shared some of the most intense moments either of them had experienced in a courtroom.

“I think I’ve gone over it enough in my head, but uh, thank you.” Casey said, her voice wobbling on the thanks, “You know, you’re the first person so far to actually ask me that?”

“I’m sorry.” Was Alex’s reply. Surely Casey had people who were interested in her feelings?

“The circumstances were,” Casey trailed off as she looked for the right wording, “I was at fault, for sure. But I was just trying to do the right thing, and I made a mistake.”

“Nothing shocking, I hope?” Asked Alex, still trying to ascertain the nature of the censure, wondering about what the woman sitting across from her could’ve done.

“I violated due process, technically.” Casey replied, attempting to gauge Alex’s reaction, but seeing that it continued to be contemplative rather than condemning, continued, “I shouldn’t’ve, but I think all of us have done worse in our time. But I was not in Donnelly’s good graces, so…” instead of ending her sentence, Casey sipped the last of her drink and looked up at Alex nervously, hoping the woman wouldn’t judge her too harshly.

“Oh man, Casey. That’s really tough. I’m sorry.” Casey searched for any sign of disapprobation in Alex’s tone, but finding only genuine concern, relaxed.

“So I’ve been doing other stuff for a little while. Using my undergrad,” she said, truly sarcastic this time. “What about you Cabot? What’s keeping you from your old haunt? And what’s with the brunette look?”

Alex wanted to answer, but wasn’t going to let Casey get away completely with deflecting. “You didn’t answer my question, Novak. What’s in the notebook?”

Casey laughed. “You really are relentless.” Alex just raised an eyebrow smugly while sipping her drink, as if to say, go on. “It’s a poetry journal. I’ve kept one since college.”

This admission broke the unflappable Alex Cabot’s reserve and she couldn’t keep herself from a few giggles. “I apologize,” she said, “for laughing at you. Just, the idea of Casey Novak the poet would not have occurred to me.”

“Like I said,” Casey started, “I’m full of surprises. And nobody has laughed at me in a long time,” she continued, beginning to laugh herself. “Believe it or not, I have an English degree.”

“Ok, ok, stop. I’m not sure I can take many more shocks tonight,” teased Alex.

“And you, didn’t answer my question. What’s with the brunette? You look beautiful,” Casey said before realizing what she was saying, shutting herself up before she said anything embarrassing.

“I needed a change,” Alex said, “Something to distance myself from my old selves. I never dyed my hair before, or switched up my look at all really. Just, a change.”

“I get that.” Casey said, and Alex felt like she really did get it, somehow more than anybody else had to this point. She’d seen a few old colleagues and friends, and they all had looked at her with this mixture of fear and pity that made her wish she was invisible. But Casey seemed to say something deeper in just three words.

They talked together late into the night, about books and drinks (Casey had been a bartender in college, her knowledge on pairings was unparalleled) and everything but law. It was close to 2:00 am when Casey started to yawn.

“I’m really glad I ran into you, Alex,” she said as they left the bar, her voice scratchy from talking quietly, a subtle accent that Alex couldn’t quite place showing through under the influence of sleepiness and her light buzz. It was adorable, Alex found herself thinking.

“Me too, Casey,” Alex replied, and before she could turn to start walking towards her apartment, only a block or so away, she was met with a hug. It was brief, but Alex took in the scent of Casey’s coconut shampoo, sweet and pleasing.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be much of a hugger either,” Alex said as she pulled away, brushing her hands on Casey’s elbows.

“I guess you have a lot to figure out,” she said, playfully, as Alex handed her into a cab.

As Alex walked up the stairs to her apartment (she could afford a bigger place, but this one, this one felt right), Alex replayed the evening and regretted not asking for Casey’s phone number before she left. When she pulled her keys out of her pocket to unlock the door, she found a piece of paper, with a number and a note:

text me, so I can learn some of your surprises.

3 .

Alex was awake.

The same old dreams kept her restless. It had been a bad night, she’d slept less than 3 hours before she woke, startled, as the sun just began to rise, 5 am on a Saturday in September.

Foggily, she attempted to reconstruct the details of her pieced together dreams, her therapist, Julia, had convinced her to keep a journal. She said the nightmares of being shot, of nobody recognizing her, those made perfect sense, classic PTSD symptoms. With what happened to her it would’ve been stranger to not suffer it. But these hadn’t been those dreams.

Clare Cartwright, age 15 stood in line at the coffee shop. Her face was pink with tears but nobody saw anything out of the ordinary except for Alex, watching her from a table. Clare’s cheeks were wet and covered in running mascara but the barista didn’t bat an eye as she ordered an iced chai and sat down alone with her laptop. Tears turned to sobs turned to screams, thrashing, but she just kept typing, sipping her tea, nobody did a damn thing. Alex tried to rise from her seat, go to the girl, hold her and scratch her back while she cried, but the heavy weight of her own body kept her seated, powerless to do anything. She tried to yell across the room, tell her that it was going to be ok, she was going to put whoever hurt her behind bars, protect her from them forever. But when she opened her mouth all breath was sucked out of her lungs, she collapsed. Clare’s cries echoed ceaselessly.

Trevor Hamilton, a 20 something pro, had been turning tricks all night but one guy had taken it a little too far. He was sure his neck, hips would be covered in nasty bruises the next day. Oh well. Nobody believed a pro who cried rape. He stuffed his cash in his briefs and made his way towards the van he slept in with three other guys but before he could get there, he fell, body bloody. Nobody heard a sound but Trevor must have been shot. His blood was cold as it poured out of him onto the sidewalk but he stood up. He wasn’t dead. In the morgue, Melinda Warner ruled the cause of death a fatal gunshot wound to his back, probably a stray bullet, but he’d had sex the night he died, maybe an angry John. Alex told everyone that he wasn’t dead. Trevor whispered in her ear, asked her how could she let them say he was dead, how could she let them get away with saying such a thing like that, how could she let them call what had happened to him sex. Alex repeated herself over and over but all she got in return from the detectives were sympathetic looks of confusion as they sent her home for the day. She must’ve been too tired, Alex heard Olivia tell Elliot, maybe her mind was acting up again, sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis. Someone would check in on her that night, make sure she wasn’t relapsing. Alex knew she wasn’t hallucinating, because Trevor had spoken to her in the clearest voice she’d heard in months. Alex wept for Trevor the whole way home and then some but nobody seemed to notice.

Annabelle Lamm wore a fuzzy pink nightgown when her grandmother brought her into the precinct one snowy night. Olivia called Alex to come to the precinct, they needed a warrant for the apartment, they found fluids in the girl’s hair of all places, grandma handed them an envelope full of pictures of Annie that nobody in the family admitted to taking. It was a no brainer warrant, Alex didn’t even mind waking up a judge for it if it meant getting whoever had been hurting this little girl as soon as possible. When Alex arrived to the building, Olivia wasn’t there and all the lights were off. Alex clicked on a lamp, wondered if Liv had found another ADA and rushed off without telling her anything. But the room was unfamiliar, empty, concrete. In the center of the room standing perfectly still was a 5 year old girl in a pink fuzzy nightgown. Alex ran to her but couldn’t get any closer. The little girl had a hollow expression and didn’t move an inch. Alex kept running and running but her feet stayed in the same spot, powerless.

Yeah. Powerless. As she awoke she felt like she was still running, head still spinning, still heard screams.

She wrote it all down in her journal. Julia had said that it was unusual for people whose jobs involved consistently levels of high stress and disturbance to have the severity of symptoms she had; that there was usually a tolerance that was built up to being horrified. Alex had either never had that tolerance or it had been washed away during the years she’d spent in WITSEC because her very brief return to the practice of law had nearly broken her.

“Sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis,” Olivia had told her once when they first worked together, ostensibly referring to a case of statutory rape where the perp didn’t recall a single piece of the event; but Alex knew the comment was pointed at her, not the perp. Olivia could tell that Alex’s patience was growing thin, her mind unfocused; she must’ve deduced that Alex wasn’t sleeping much. But Alex already knew the warning signs.

Alexandra Cabot, age 16, sat shaking in a hospital room. It was almost finals week, she’d pulled a few all nighters, it was nothing serious, she’d told her school counselor a week prior when her friends had noticed her speech patterns growing muddled. She stayed up another 24 hours and the last thing she remembered was her roommates grabbing her wrists and pulling her inside off the balcony. After that, the school had installed locks on all the windows. Alexandra was freezing in her hospital gown, brain numbed out from the IV antipsychotics she was attached to. A few days in the hospital to take care of her injuries (she was informed that she had thrown herself against the wall while school officials took her to the ER), then a summer of residential treatment, hopefully she would be able to return to boarding school in the fall. Her father looked at her with a shattered expression, her mother treated her with cold indifference, her friends didn’t talk to her. Major depression with psychotic features.

Alex knew the consequences of not sleeping enough. She considered taking her cup of mint tea and heading back to bed, cuddling up to her cats, reading a book maybe, just trying to screw her head on right. Her body fought her though, nervous energy ran through her veins, so she elected to have a walk instead. Besides, it had been years since she’d had any serious episode. Anxiety, sure, and the occasional month or so of depression, a few close calls, but regular therapy and medication kept her more or less in the clear since college. Her family, her therapists, had suggested she go into a different kind of law, something stimulating but less distressing like, intellectual property, but she had refused, felt called to prosecuting. But her experience was what made her a great prosecutor, and it was why she had been so adamant about the proper handling of cases involving those suffering from mental illness, especially victims, but perps as well. She knew how it felt, more than she admitted to almost anybody, but she also knew there were paths through it.

The same old nightmares, but Alex was a different person. The old Alex would’ve thrown herself even harder into work than usual, won her cases even more viciously, assuaged her feelings of powerlessness by asserting control. This Alex knew that complete control was unattainable.

The September air was cold this early in the morning, but bracing. The contrast between her thermos full of hot tea pleased her, she pretended she was a dragon as she breathed steam. She smiled to herself at the thought and at the bright orange sun rising through the treetops in the park by her apartment. This had been the right choice, sunrises were her favorite magic. Content covered her like a well fitting dress, shaking off the nerves slowly. The most dedicated joggers and newsstand operators were the only other people out this early, the quietest time in the city. Alex’s phone buzzed.

Casey: Nice coat, Cabot.

Alex looked up from her phone, confused. What? Maybe it was delivered late. She’d seen Casey two days ago for coffee— they’d developed a friendship. Texts, coffee, nothing too deep; but then it had only been a couple weeks since they’d run into each other at the library bar. Alex liked Casey. She was funny and a good listener, and she always had something to say. She didn’t walk on eggshells around Alex either, making Casey unique among her friends. She’d tried to meet up with Liv right when she’d gotten back to the city the second time, but the way she looked at her cut way too deep, like she was a hero, like she was a victim. Both of those she may well be, but she needed to be treated as a friend. Casey did that for her, down to playfully teasing her over her eccentric habits. Another text:

Casey: Turn around, Clueless.

Not many people had ever called Alexandra Cabot clueless. Alex turned around, and Casey waved at her excitedly from the jogging path and without waiting for Alex’s reaction began to run up to where she was sitting. Alex was surprised to see her, happily so. She knew Casey was athletic, but didn’t take her to be the 5:30 running type. She wore tight leggings and a running jacket, and the biggest smile Alex had seen from her. She looked beautiful in the soft early light, Alex thought, then immediately blushed at that thought.

She’d never been one to shy away from her sexuality, especially when she realized the destructive role repression had played in her life before she came out. Alex had been out since college, but she tried very hard not to crush on straight women. She knew she couldn’t control who she was attracted to, but it always made her feel a bit dejected, so. Nip that in the bud.

Alex didn’t have much time to consider the ethics of her thoughts, because Casey was right in front of her, grabbing her hands.

“It’s so good to see you! A second surprise encounter, must be fate, Cabot,” Casey said in a quiet voice, a wink in her words.

“Something like that,” Alex replied, “What are you doing out so early?”

“I could ask the same of you; I’m just finishing up my run. You are wearing a fancy coat and looking deep in thought, in fact, you are being far more suspicious than I am, look at how many people are out here jogging, I mean,”

“Oh my god,” Alex cut her off with an eye roll, “Ok, stop cross-examining me.”

Casey gave Alex a genuine laugh, “Old habits die hard.” She paused for a second. “You look pale, did you sleep?”

“Thanks, Casey.” Alex gave her a playful glare. “If three nightmares in three hours counts, then yes, I slept.”

“Oh you poor thing. I’d hug you but,” She gestured to her sweaty figure. “You wanna get breakfast? I’ll pop back to my apartment, shower, and meet you at yours in say, half an hour?”

Alex started slightly at the familiarity, but responded, “Yeah, sure, sounds fun. Uh, here I’ll text you my address.”

Did Casey blush? Alex couldn’t be sure due to her post-run glow and the chill in the air. “Sorry if that’s too familiar, I know we usually plan these things out, and I guess I just assumed you didn’t have plans, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, you know, runner’s high and all,” but Alex cut her off again with a raise of her eyebrows.

“Are you retracting the offer, Novak?” Alex couldn’t resist the urge to tease the woman in front of her. “Because if I recall correctly, I said yes.”

Casey grew more flustered, replied with a quick, “Nope, still happening, see you in half an hour,” and took off running, leaving Alex behind as she laughed in disbelief.

[wordsandsound14]

Switchfoot albums ranked (not including interrobang)

I've been thinking about this a lot too recently. Ik I'm late to the party on this one but I don't get on reddit often. Only got on since the band did the ama. I won't include interrobang since it's so new and ranking it seems difficult. (worst to best)

11. Learning to Breathe - While this record has some of the best written songs (Learning to Breathe, The Loser, Love is the Movement), it also has some of my least favorites (Poparazzi, Innocence Again, Living is Simple). I often just find myself bored with this album and disappointed. There are plenty of dipping of toes in ideas and then abandoning them. For instance, the beginning of Erosion is such a cool unique sound and then it's abandoned for the rest of the song. The themes of this album are also really boring to me, even when I was a christian. I just found it wasn't taking a unique perspective or doing anything different with its themes when they have done so before.

10. Where the Light Shines Through - I feel this was the band when they were the most uninspired. It feels like it was trying to sell itself to the CCM crowd and make some waves there since it's been the most consistent place of making waves and it still didn't do that. Don't get me wrong, there are great songs here (If the House Burns Down Tonight, Float, Holy Water). The first half of this album is super good. It's that back half that feels like an axe to the first half. Every song on the back half has something that disappoints me. And I'm fine with christian themes and all but it felt like this album had more just praise songs vs the questioning of faith. Would've been a great EP and it kinda made sense that they went into hiatus after this album. I also feel that the themes of the album didn't really make it to it. Jon talked about how he was in a some struggle and storm before the album and then by the time they got recording it more so became an album after the storm. And I just wonder what was going on. Cause there's only small hints. I can only feel that an album that actually talked about that or coming out of the storm would've worked but we got way after the storm and leaving a lot of good inspiration behind in a ball of mystery that we still don't know about. I don't need to know every information that he went through but the songs got effected by it.

9. New Way to be Human - I think what holds this album down the most is it's lack of direction. I can feel them trying to tackle all of their ideas from folk to pop to indie while maintaining their identity. I just don't feel these ideas get fully fleshed out. But these songs are really well written and the philosophy bleeding into these tracks and ending up being a basis of many future songs can all be tracked back to this album. This album is just a very specific listen so I don't often turn to this album. I do think Something More is the most overlooked song, with Amy's song being a close second. I also think Incomplete is a just a better version of I Turn Everything Over so it feels like a repeat track. But I really appreciate what this record represents in their career and see it as a stepping stone of sorts. (Company Car is one of their best earlier works)

8. Native Tongue - Seems a lot of people have very different feelings about this work. I think the biggest thing that makes Native Tongue feel distinct is that it feels like a Jon Foreman project with Switchfoot. Like Jon was the only one who couldn't stay away from the studio and was calling the other members. They came and were happy to but it was Jon with the initiative. At least, it's how it sounds to me. A lot of these ideas are incomplete. But when they aren't, they hit really well (Native Tongue, Dig New Streams, Oxygen). And the amount of trying different things! Granted a lot of ideas of modern production ideas but I'm glad they happened. But some I'm not too fond of (Joy Invisible, Wonderful Feeling, The Strength To Let Go). I feel this album also really fell short without a good producer. It's not the production value that doesn't work but Switchfoot works best when there is a producer there that works with them and pushes them. I fell they could have been better but it also has some solid songs in here.

7. Legend of Chin - This is one of the most fun Switchfoot records but has such a distinct sound and charm to it. I understand that a lot of songs are about girls that Jon doesn't even know any more but there isn't a bad song on here. It's all just fun from 3 guys jamming in a room. I used to not like the closing track but it's grown on me and I crave that sound more and more. Some standout tracks are Home, Chem 6A, You. With Underwater being a super creative song. I don't have a ton to say other than this is root Switchfoot and their cores are on display here.

6. Fading West - I feel this is their most misunderstood record. The struggle this album went through is tremendous. Take the two best things Switchfoot is known for and strip them away and they still make a record worth listening too imo. It's not their best but it's really ambitious, even if accidental. Originally, they were going to only strip the guitars away but when you listen to the story of Fading West, going on a journey to feel inspired. There are plenty of lines hinting that Jon was having writer's block (blood clot pen). It does mean the lyrics suffered some here but I don't think they suffered a ton. They achieved the california surf music. However, I do think they missed a huge part that I feel the fans were wanting. It's the sound that's on the ep. It's the one we were advertised and didn't receive on the album. I would loved if the album had the sound of Edge of the Earth (the song). But I really appreciate the risk cause it's a huge one. (stand out tracks: Love Alone Is Worth the Fight, BA55, Slipping Away).

5. Vice Verses - This was the best they have ever been as musicians (you could argue this for Oh Gravity too tho). But the amount of pushing their musical talent is very apparent on this album. The bass lines and drum rhythms are amazing. The only songs I'm kinda eh about are Rise Above It (still has great production and energy) and The Original (still has amazing bass and guitar parts). This album does have a weird issue with the lyrics either hitting really deep parts of your heart or being a very vague or simple line. The production is also the best imo and everything is layered super well. The only production that I disagree on is on Where I Belong (the digital claps for why and some parts sounding a little inconsistent with the rest of the album). But the choices in the sounds of the guitars and genre jumps and the grunge. Still lacking in some areas but still a solid record. (Holds my favorite Switchfoot song Thrive)

4. Oh! Gravity. - Oh yes, the golden era as I call it. I pin this album as the core Switchfoot sound. If you want to hear what Switchfoot sounds like, this album nails it. Guitars, fun, great lyrics, and musical variety. I don't have much words like I did for Chin. It's a pretty simple album to digest and it's the quickest made one (from what i'm aware of) and it shows but in the best way possible. It's also only made better by the podcast series they made. The only things that hold this album down a bit is American Dream and Burn Out Bright being repeat tracks of another (American Dream being the better one) and the double edged sword of it being simple when surrounded by high effort long works that are beyond exceptional.

3. The Beautiful Letdown - The Classic Foot album that defined their careers. It's not a joke tho that everything went up a whole level with this album. Something clicked in Jon's head that turned out some of his best lyrics and the song formats and sound just grew a ton. Jerome being an essential new member. And only one song that's a little meh (Redemption) and even the meh song is still catchy. Overexposure might be why it's not higher but I feel I have more reasons being that it does sound dated. Most of the time for better but a little for worse. I also feel that if Drew was a part of this album, it would be up a another level also. There's just a slight amount of incompleteness to this record. Not sure exactly but regardless the songwriting on this album is amazing and the questions and the way they are asked remain timeless.

2. Nothing is Sound - Grunge at its best here. I'm still not certain what Jon was going through here other than what the lyrics mention but whatever he was feeling hits hard. It resonates so much. To this day, these songs hold my throat. Not a bad song on here. It's a really good album that only gets beat by it's production value. Some songs could've been produced better (ironically Jon mentioned that recently too lol). Golden, The Setting Sun, and We Are Young Tonight are the forefront of those. And it's not like they are terribly produced but they are missing a little from what they could be. But literally it. Front to back, this record just rocks while wallowing in despair from the fallen world and the loneliness and helplessness it brings. It also represents a huge decision on what to do after a breakout record and is one of the best records after a band reached public success.

1. Hello Hurricane - The whole sound of this record is the most complete the band has ever sounded to me. The writing on this album is so great. Not one song is a waste and process this album went through is amazing. I get that they can't (prob shouldn't) do this process but damn was it worth it. This project sounds so complete and so organically made, even with two songs that I feel could have been switched out. (Always isn't my favorite but I may having it be a song for a past relationship. But it also does still have a lot of raw emotion in it that I appreciate and can get past my own perceptions. It's the lesser of the offense. Free is the other one only cause it kinda is booty in studio. It's live version makes ya wish it was that way on the record). But i adore these lyrics and I love the sounds they used without washing it up with production but still using production (Sing it Out) as a tool. It's so good and I love this album so much

quick review of interrobang is that it’s a very solid record and I love the sound of it so far. It doesn’t take my top record but it’s an insanely catchy album with a lot of listens in the future. I’d probably rank it as 2 or 3. Not sure if it’s above or below nothing is sound. but really give it a listen. It’s exactly what i’ve been wanting from the band for so long

[davidmann95]

Comics this week (3/10/2021)?

cheerfullynihilistic said: Comics this week (03/10/21)??

adudewholikescomicsandotherstuff said: This week’s comics?

Anonymous said: Comics?

Anonymous said: 3/10 NCBD?

Non-Stop Spider-Man #1: The lead story was fun, the backup was dopey, I’ll give it another issue or two to see where it goes.

The Immortal Hulk #44: While it was too late for this week I’ve taken Hulk off my pull list, so the store won’t order any copies specifically for me and therefore my future purchase of the book won’t support Joe Bennett’s presence, just the store. This issue is typical of some of the books’ weaker installments of the last year or so - feels like well-done regular superhero comics instead of Immortal Hulk - but those last couple pages bring it back around.

Daredevil #28: Holy cow, those King In Black issues actually mattered. God this book is still so fuckin’ good in so many ways, everything every dumbass street-level superhero ‘deconstruction’ wants to be when it grows up.

Children of the Atom #1: Sucks real bad! This weird combo of ‘hip new young Marvel heroes!’ trappings and soulless X-Men lifer comics execution that feels certain to appeal to neither group.

Eternals #3: Of the listed Deviants I imagine I’d relate most to Annoyed Veug.

Commanders in Crisis #6: While I remain without the ability to weigh in on this objectively, this is the issue that to date most feels like it lives up to the promises of the series premiere.

The Wrong Earth: Night & Day #3: Little disappointed personally with the reveal of what the third world is - I assumed it was going to be more of a straight take ‘modern’ version to the other two’s flavors of throwbacks - but this series still rules. And that ending.

Home Sick Pilots #4: Okay, I think I can follow what’s happening at this point, still enjoying it.

Proctor Valley Road #1: I review these books in the order I present them to my dad since he likes DC/Marvel/Other to each be lumped together, but make no mistake: this is the last of the three Morrison books to read this week, because this is what comes next for them. A return to their roots - 70s kids way into music and dealing with the weird, girls adventure stories of the kind they apparently grew up reading - this feels like a refinement of their mid/late-00s Vertigo work in the same way they’ve been iterating on their superhero material for decades. The horror is sold excellently, whether by their own efforts or thanks to cowriter Alex Child this is their most fluid, ‘real’-sounding dialogue perhaps ever, and Franquiz with Bonvillain are instantly among their all-time best collaborators, perfectly capturing the shifting tone and character acting necessary to best put Morrison’s big ideas over in a way a number of their collaborators haven’t lived up to over the years (and speaking of the visuals, Jim Campbell does the lord’s work with that lettering trick near the end). Ritesh Babu and Sean Dillon have a lot more to say about the book and how it already acts as a darker, more honest take on your Stranger Things and the like as a commentary on its times, but I’m already loving to see this particular return down to Earth for Morrison and company and I’m glad to hear this is selling really well compared to their previous indie work.

Dead Dog’s Bite #1: This actually came out last week, but Ritesh recommended it so I figured it might be worth a look. A so far intensely low-key missing persons mystery with a touch of surreality around its edges, this already looks to be the best “look! A nine-panel grid! Fancy!” comic since Mister Miracle, really lived-in and emotional for as little happens in this debut. Very curious where it’s going.

Rorschach #6: I continue to like it.

Batman: Urban Legends #1: Glory be, a good Jason Todd comic - at last, you noble stubborn weirdoes living off of like six nonconsecutive panels all these years, you may lay down your burden. Not all you’d necessarily hope from Zdarsky tackling Gotham after what he’s been doing with Daredevil but rock-solid work regardless; the Harley story is fine, Outsiders is a letdown after Thomas’s shockingly good showing for them in Future State but it’s still fine, and the Grifter stuff is fun.

The Joker #1: I thought the advertised ‘a Joker story from Gordon’s POV’ angle was an interesting one even if I was concerned this book would in practice be pure editorial mandate, but in reality? Tynion has managed to pull the wool over DC’s eyes and do a full-on Jim Gordon book (one predicated with him being off the force to make it reasonably comfortable read in 2021) with Joker as the barest of pretexts to get it out the door and selling for as long as he wants to continue it. He even said in interviews that when the book was first pitched to him that his response was that a Joker solo book was a dumb unworkable idea until he had an idea for a ‘different way to approach it’, he knows exactly what he’s doing and I salute him. And it’s a darn good Gordon book even if the Punchline backup is predictably tepid, I’m in the tank for Gotham’s perpetual whipping boy dealing with weird noir international crime with Joker sort of hanging around in the background menacingly to justify the nominal premise.

Anonymous said: Hey, so I figure one random anon won’t change your mind, but like you I was disappointed by New Frontier’s immortal Wonder Woman, but I still got the new issue of Wonder Woman cause Wonder Woman at Valhalla still sounds great and I actually liked it! I think I’m gonna get at least the next issue, so there’s at least one recommendation for it

Wonder Woman #770: This combined with the store still putting it in my pile prompted me to give it a try after all, and whether because something here clicks better or if they’re simply not trying so hard without the pressure of doing a ‘final’ story for Diana, Cloonan and Conrad do in fact do substantially better on the main book than they did with Immortal Wonder Woman. Some fun, some fights, some mythology and intrigue, gorgeous landscapes and generous servings of beefcake from Travis Moore - this isn’t going to be sweeping the Eisners, but this is as enjoyable as a Wonder Woman comic has been in a good long time. My only concern is that the joyousness on display here might dissipate somewhat once Diana fully returns to herself, but in the meantime this was a very pleasant surprise (especially with the the Young Diana backup by Bellaire, Ganucheau, Goode, and Carey).

Superman #29: PKJ’s Superman thus far has been a story of overcoming initial worries of mine - in this case, my concern that he’d have a bad Scott Snyder-ey case of “if you’ve read the interviews you’ve pretty much already heard the dialogue of the comic verbatim”. In practice here most of what he’s had to say about these issues are distilled down really succinctly and poignantly in the midst of a fun little upper-atmosphere adventure portending something grimmer, and while I know it didn’t click with everyone I thought Phil Hester’s work here was a perfect accompaniment. The Tales of Metropolis backup wasn’t nearly as enjoyable, but hints at some interesting worldbuilding I’m hopeful will pay off in the main run.

The Green Lantern Season Two #12: The final Grant Morrison DC comic. One of two anyway, but if the next story I discuss is their broader final (non-Klaus, hopefully) statement on the superhero subgenre and a bridge to what they’re doing next, this is the one that’s about being The Final Grant Morrison DC Comic. A mélange of pretty much all their other DC finales into a shamelessly self-reflective meditation on the limits of what they can accomplish in shared universe storytelling where Green Lantern saves the universe through collective action and then fucks off to do his own thing elsewhere while the kids take over the ongoings. Weird and kinda perfect, and if nothing else this series took Liam Sharp from “really? This dude is drawing the last ever Morrison DC ongoing?” to “HOLY FUCKING SHIT LIAM SHARP”.

(The panel folks blew up over I think can be read multiple ways, but not in a ‘it’s open to interpretation!’ way so much as the storytelling/framing being unclear. I personally read it as ‘this is what neighbor versus neighbor looks like now’ rather than ‘calling someone a TERF or a Nazi is as bad as anything the other side does’, because oldster and out of touch though they may be I can’t see Morrison seriously saying that, especially after coming out.)

Wonder Woman Earth One Volume 3: At long last, after a hideous misfire kicking the series off and a second installment best described as ‘well, at least it wasn’t the first one’, this while not without elements I want to see femme and nonbinary critics discuss critically lives up to what you want to see out of ‘Grant Morrison’s Wonder Woman’. Big utopian fiction breaking the typical boundaries of superhero stories with aplomb in implicit conversation with a ton of their previous work, a bridge from what they’ve done to what they’re doing next, it’s an imperfect (especially with Paquette’s art, which while gorgeous and majestic in the way this story demands really doesn’t living up to the ‘acting’ necessary here in a way thrown into sharp contrast by Franquiz in PVR) but shockingly passionate statement of intent - if the last two volumes felt like Morrison struggling to have something to say with Wonder Woman in the same way they did with Superman and Batman, this feels at the close like them at last finding in her a way to do everything left with the cape and tights crowd they wanted to but couldn’t manage anywhere else under the Big Two umbrella. Odd and lovely, a fine sendoff.

[bngtanah]

I’m (not) With The Band. | o7

summary: Adrienne is an indie producer who is hired to help co-produce BTS’ next album alongside their resident producer; Suga. Despite the initial opposition on both ends, the pair spend time together, share a few stories, dreams and aspirations and begin to hit it off really well. Wrapped up in the whirlwind of late nights and heated disagreements and reconciliations, Min Yoongi and Adrienne Rolle find themselves growing closer and closer. One night they decide to cross the barrier between personal and professional and do their best make a relationship work against all odds.

pairing: idol!Yoongi  x OC

word count: 4.5k genre: drama, romance, smut(eventually)

chapters: prologue| o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11|

warning: fluff, workplace relationship, slow burn, sexual attraction, ambw, developing relationship, light angst, making out.

a/n: hey. sup. it’s been forever lmao.

"No, no, I want there to be a subtle kind of...sexiness even without the lyrics"

"But I thought we agreed to go for a different feeling?"

"We did...then I changed my mind"

"So, I guess what I want doesn't matter?"

"For this song- no. No, it does not."

Yoongi wanted to be annoyed by her dismissal and deep down he mostly was, Andy was being unnecessarily difficult with the direction of their latest music-related venture, and although she had shot down nearly all of his ideas today, Yoongi still found himself bowing to her will instead of arguing with her like he usually would whenever she batted those big green eyes at him. He was fairly certain that she wasn't doing this on purpose, enticing him so that he would continue to remain entranced by her attractive features and intoxicating smile, even if she wasn't aware of what she was doing, the results were still the same. She already had him wrapped around her finger without even realizing it and Yoongi hated being so damn malleable. 

Today was another day off for the group but with the limited time and amount of preparation they still had to go through t in order to be ready to release their album on time, no one in the group had the luxury of lounging around doing nothing  like they had been doing the past few days. Everyone was either practicing, giving interviews or helping out with lyrics for the few songs that were already completed and approved leaving Andy and Yoongi alone in an empty dorm to get some actual work done. They opted out of working at the studio since it was already crowded with Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok using the computer and mic, Yoongi knew that the dorm would be empty for most of the day, so it gave them a chance to work in peace.

"Look," Adrienne sighed and leaned back on her elbows, they were seated on Yoongi's bed and much closer than they needed to be "I'm sure whatever you're thinking is great but if you guys really want to go for a more mature image with this album you need a song like this. The kind of song that will give you the confidence to strip and give your boyfriend a lap dance even if you can't dance for shit." Adrienne exhaled sharply and glanced up at the ceiling, looking wistful. She wasn't looking at Yoongi, and she hadn't been since she started speaking, but if she was she probably would have noticed the way his eyes ping-ponged between the slight amount of cleavage peeking out of the top of her v-neck and her plump lips that curled into a seductive smile when she spoke that last sentence.

Something about the way she said the previous sentence, however, must’ve given too much of her desire away, because he froze when she exhaled, just to stare her down. When Adrienne finally did glance to the side she flinched slightly under his intense glare but didn't back away.

"Sorry, was that too much? I talk without thinking sometimes..."

"No... that's not-"

It seemed Yoongi hadn’t truly been paying attention to what she was saying before, but now he would have been hanging on her every word if she had the courage to say anything else, instead, they just stared at each other, neither one moving an inch until one of Adrienne's braids fell into her face and Yoongi raised his fingers and brushed the back of his knuckles across her cheek to put it back in place.

His movements were gentle, so gentle that Adrienne could barely breathe– the moment stretched out for so much longer than seemed appropriate, allowing Adrienne to become lost in her thoughts and the realization of just how much she wanted his lips on her to hit her with a heavy awareness. Andy broke under the thought and found herself leaning forward to just do it, to just kiss him like she had wanted to for so much longer than she cared to think about. Yoongi leaned forward as well, the hand that was caressing her cheek moving down to her neck to securely keep her head where he wanted it to be. Eyelids hooded and lips just a few inches apart, their breathing intermingled as they drew closer and closer to their intended goal. Weeks of flirting and mutually explosive tension bubbling just under the surface was just seconds from reaching its peak....until hearing the door handle jiggle broke apart their fantasy.

Suddenly the front door opened, and the sound of Jin's voice blending together with Jungkook's caused the enamored pair to spring apart, quite literally, with Yoongi rolling further into the center of his bed and Adrienne tumbling from the bed to the ground, landing flat on her ass.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi asked quickly, peering over the edge as Adrienne nodded and rubbed the sore spot on her hip where she landed.

"I'm fine, just a little bruise-" She responded with a groan then looked up, the moment between them was long from being forgotten and that was evident in the way Yoongi still peered down at her like he wanted to devour her right then. But, Jin and Jungkook making their presence known in the hallway outside Yoongi's bedroom made them break contact and swiftly pretend to be working, Andy grabbing her notebook off the edge of the bed and Yoongi mindlessly pressing keys on his laptop as the two young men hovered around the entrance and inquired about how their work was going.

"Yoongi's being stubborn, and I am making amazing music, so it's just like always," Adrienne commented from the floor, earning a chuckle from both Jin and Jungkook and an agitated smirk from the target of her jeer.

"Ah, well we won't distract you, keep working hard!" Jin stated as he began to usher Jungkook out the door, who was on the verge of complaining.

"Oh no! You can stay!" Adrienne replied, too quickly, and shot out her hand to stop them from leaving "It would be nice to hear some feedback." She wasn't too certain about being left alone with Yoongi after what had almost happened just a few seconds earlier, even with her sitting on the floor now there was no guaranteeing she wouldn't lose her senses again and do something stupid like try to kiss her coworker.

"Are you sure won't we be in the way?" Jin asked in part, allowing Jungkook to finish off the question even though he was already walking back towards Jin's bed and sitting down. Both of them glanced back and forth from Adrienne to Yoongi for an answer, before finally settling on Yoongi.

"It's fine," he grumbled from behind his laptop screen, "Just try not to make too much noise."

They, of course, did the opposite of what he asked.

Yoongi slammed the door of the Bangtan room so hard Adrienne swore she could hear the frosted glass crack and shatter when he entered the room. She didn't even bother swiveling around in her chair when she heard him come in since she already knew what was bothering him. Yoongi had a meeting with the boss today about a few songs he'd submitted on his own for approval and, judging by his reaction, it probably hadn't gone well.

It was always interesting (terrifying) to see Yoongi so genuinely angry, he was usually so calm and unconcerned by small or big things, but when it came to his music he quite literally wore his emotions on his sleeves and it barely took much to ignite a blaze of fire within him.

"Yoongi-ssi?" Adrienne called as she heard his pacing back and forth behind her.

No answer.

"Are you alright?" Adrienne decided to ask once again when he took a seat on the couch and began running both of his hands down the length of his face. 

"Do I seem alright to you?" Yoongi snapped with his face still buried in his hands, his knee was bouncing up and down so quickly it warbled his voice and Adrienne couldn't even find herself becoming offended by his curt reply.

"You don't," Adrienne answered as she spun around to face Yoongi, "That's why I'm asking if you are. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but don't come in here disrupting my time with your bad vibes if just going to be an asshole."

Yoongi puffed up almost immediately, his chest inflating with arrogance and his lips twisting into an aggravated scowl. He looked up, ready to dispute his right to be an asshole whenever he wanted to be, but once his eyes met Adrienne's he deflated and glanced to the side with a heavy sigh. He shouldn't be putting his anger off on her, she wasn't the reason he was upset.

"He said no- again!" Yoongi finally replied with an answer that Adrienne already knew, but she nodded anyway, her gaze never leaving his as he began to rant about not being taken seriously. 

"They still look at me and talk to me like I'm still the same kid that auditioned here three years ago, it's fucking humiliating!"

"Did he at least give you some constructive criticism?" Andy asked, trying to remain positive.

"That's not even the point," Yoongi huffed, rising up from his seat, "If it was just about my song not being good enough, I could change that. I can always make better songs but I'm not growing as an artist if I'm constantly being told to write about the same thing in a slightly different way! There are only so many similes and metaphors you can write about someone not loving you the way you love them."

Adrienne frowned and nodded because she understood how he felt. Even when she felt like she didn't know Yoongi as well as she wanted to, it was always very obvious to Adrienne how much his music meant to him, that was something they had in common and it was probably the reason for most of their music-related disagreements. Neither of them would put their name on a project that they didn't know was their absolute best effort.

Yoongi was still pacing  back and forth the length of the small studio room in an attempt to work off all the anger that was building up inside him. He stopped abruptly once he felt Adrienne's arms embrace him from behind and her cheek rest against his shoulder, she was wearing platform sneakers that made her as tall as him.

"Do you really think your boss doesn't respect you?" She asked after a few seconds passed and his harsh breathing had calmed some.

"He's not acting like he does," Yoongi muttered over his shoulder.

"You know that's not what I asked, do you honestly think he doesn't respect you? Would he have given you the responsibility of producing an entire album for your group if he didn't appreciate your talent?" Adrienne inquired and picked her head up off of Yoongi's shoulder.

"...Technically he didn't, he hired you to produce it with me." He said quietly, followed by a pained hiss when Adrienne flicked his earlobe.

"Yah! We're getting along, don't ruin the moment!"

Yoongi smiled, it was small and short-lived but it was the first time he hadn't been scowling since he walked into the room and Andy counted that as a win.

"In all seriousness, I know for a fact that he doesn't think you're still the same kid you were when you were training. You should hear the way he talked about you before I met you guys, it was nauseating. I think he recognizes that you've grown which is why he allowed this opportunity, he also knows what's going to sell so try not to take the rejection too personally."

Yoongi exhaled and pressed his lips together, he knew she was right. He may have been taking this a little too personally, but his music was an extension of him, how could he not? After a second of contemplation, Yoongi turned so that he was facing Adrienne and looped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to him in a tight hug.

"Thank you," He said gently as they pulled apart and Adrienne smiled widely in response, her grip on his forearms reluctantly growing slack. A moment of charged silence passed between them once again when they were no longer hugging, and Adrienne felt a fleeting sensation of recklessness pass through her once again. They still hadn't talked about what had happened a few days earlier in Yoongi's room, Adrienne was waiting for him to bring it up while being too cowardly to do it herself and Yoongi felt the same way. 

"You should do something," Adrienne spoke first.

"What?" Yoongi asked, clearly confused.

"Your song," Adrienne clarified and backed away to save her own sanity. "You should do something with it if you really like it that much. Maybe you can't put it on an album, but you can always release it for free? Your fans would like that"

"Ah, I don't know about that" Yoongi shook his head and returned to his seat on the couch, "The big reason it can't be included on the album is because of the subject matter....it's kind of suggestive."

Andy shrugged and leaned against the back of the office chair "But it would be nice! Think of your fans."

Adrienne pouted and Yoongi caved.

"Fine, but I need you to sing the chorus, and we can't release it anywhere."

"Me? Why? Can't you use Jimin?"

"He's busy, and I doubt he would be comfortable singing some of the lines."

Adrienne's curiosity was piqued but understood what he meant once they actually began recording the song. The word 'suggestive' would have been the last adjective on Adrienne's mind as she read the lyrics as well as she could and sang along with Yoongi's direction; explicit would have been her first choice. It was a catchy song, that was definitely true, but Adrienne understood immediately why it couldn't be included on the album. They finished the song in just a few takes and quickly got back to working on the album like they were supposed to be. It was well into the night before either of them left for home and Adrienne made a quick stop to one of the few cubicles that were still occupied with someone working. It was an assistant name Soo-Bin whom Adrienne wasn't overly friendly with, but she still knew her by name. She quickly asked to post the cover she'd mixed and arranged for Jungkook before she left for the night since she was going to be there a lot longer than Adrienne was. Soo-Bin agreed, reluctantly, and once it was time for her to go home quickly published the first song that seemed to match the specifications Adrienne described.

She wasn't in the mood to double check.

The next morning Adrienne got ready for work with a heavy heart after waking up to a message from Bang Sihyuk requesting her presence in his office, the second she got to work. She hadn't had a one on one meeting with him since she was hired, and she honestly couldn't think of anything they needed to talk about. She wasn't finished with the latest batch of songs and there was still time for her to send them in, so she knew he couldn't have been moving up the deadline, and anything else pertaining to the album was usually just relayed to her through Yoongi or one of the other staff members. There was only one logical reason Andy could think of for him wanting to meet with her alone and that was to tell her that she was fired. The thought alone nearly made her hyperventilate.

Slowly, Adrienne trudged her way towards Bang Sihyuk's office when she was finally inside the Big Hit building. She paused once she was a few feet away from the office door and noticed a familiar face leaning against the door frame.

"Yoongi-ssi?"

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd get here, you're late today."

"It took me a while to get ready..why are you here? Do you have a meeting today too?"

Yoongi nodded, "Yeah, right now. He wants to talk to both of us."

Adrienne sighed a small breath of relief once Yoongi turned and entered the room before her. If he wanted to talk to both of them at once, then the chances of her being fired seemed to be a lot smaller. Andy soon followed after Yoongi and immediately bowed at a complete 90 degree angle once she was inside, the rules of engagement when it came to her superiors were still foreign to Adrienne, and she wasn't sure if she had to bow once she entered his office, but she didn't want to run the risk of possibly offending her boss.

Bang Sihyuk was in the middle of a phone call when they walked in but motioned for them to side down anyway. Andy and Yoongi exchange a short confused glance but their attention was brought back to their boss once he hung up and cleared his throat.

"I'll be quick about this, I'm sure you're both wondering why I called you here," Andy and Yoongi both nodded simultaneously, "The reason is simple really, I need to have a conversation with you about the nature of your relationship and the easiest way to do that is if you're both here together."

Adrienne was confused, she was sure she heard him correctly but the way he said 'relationship' didn't make sense to her. 

"Now while I suppose I can't outright stop you, I can strongly discourage you from openly dating so early into Yoongi's career. The group is finally gaining some ground in the music business and a scandal like this could derail all the hard work that-"

"I'm sorry, did you say dating?" Adrienne interjected, trying to sound as respectful as possible but she just had to stop him before all his words began to blur together.

"PD-nim, we're not dating" Yoongi spoke up once Bang Sihyuk answered Adrienne's question with a firm nod.

"Are you sure about that? The song that you put up on the blog yesterday seems to very explicitly suggest otherwise. You don't have to lie to me,Yoongi. Honestly, it's better if we get it out in the open now that way I can protect you if I need to in the future." Bang Sihyuk countered with genuine concern in his tone.

"Song? What song?" Adrienne muttered underneath her breath before the wheels in her head finally started turning "Aish! Soo-Bin must have uploaded the wrong song last night, I asked her to upload Jungkook's cover. She must have gotten the files mixed up" She said to Yoongi who nodded and shook his head.

"That song was never meant to be released to the public, sir" Yoongi explained, "It was just something we recorded for fun but I can promise you that we are not dating or anything like that."

"Truthfully, we are not. I don't have a reason to lie to you" Adrienne tacked on.

Bang folded his arms across his stomach and leaned back into his comfy office chair "Good," he said after a few seconds of tense silence "We've already taken the song down but both of you need to be more careful in the future, you can't afford a mistake like this."

"Yes, Sir."

They both thanked him for understanding before he excused them and allowed them to leave. Adrienne dramatically sighed and slumped into the sofa once they reached the studio.

"I can't believe I thought I was going to be fired today."

"Why would you think that?" Yoongi asked from hovering over the computer console.

"I didn't know you were going to be there, I thought he wanted to talk to me alone and that could only mean one thing."

"You shouldn't take things so personally" He snickered, proud of himself for being able to use her own words against her.

Adrienne rolled her eyes, "This not the same thing, my reason is totally valid" She scoffed "Can you believe he thought we were dating, though? There's no way that would ever happen."

Yoongi stopped fidgeting with the keys on the keyboard just long enough to look back at Adrienne who seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, her statement had struck a chord in him "No way, huh?"

"Hm? Oh! It's nothing against you I just....I don't think I'm your type" Adrienne said with a humorless laugh as she got up to take a closer look at the books on the shelf against the far wall.

"What does that mean?"

"It...means what I said, I'm not your type," Adrienne answered over her shoulder, completely unaware of the utter disbelief written all over Yoongi's face.

His hand latching onto her wrist took her by surprise and Adrienne gasped softly as she was suddenly being pressed against the wall next to the bookshelf, her body sandwiched between Yoongi and the plaster. His knuckles softly grazed over Adrienne's cheeks just like they had days before but this time, there were no braids obstructing her view to excuse his actions. His move was deliberate, and he made that notion clear as his gaze never left Adrienne's face as his hand moved down to her jawline and the pad of his thumb lightly traced Adrienne's' sharp features.

Yoongi only wanted to make a point; that there was no possible way she wouldn't be his type. However, being so close to her. Feeling her chest rise and fall against his body each time she drew a shallow breath he found it hard to stop himself once he'd started. As if of its own accord his head dipped, and he pressed his lips to hers. His free hand cupped the back of her head, holding her there gently. His kiss was soft and almost chaste to start off with, not forcing Adrienne to give any more than she wanted to, but she soon found herself getting lost in their kiss, her lips returning his actions with as much vigor as she could muster. She couldn’t quite explain the feeling that she had right now, it was as if all the blood had rushed from her head and that she was flying, she felt light and grounded all at the same time. Whatever it was she definitely knew she had a word for it now; right.

As much as she tried to ignore it and push her feelings to the back burner for the sake of her sanity and now career, kissing Yoongi felt right and Adrienne could no longer deny that fact. Her arms gripped tightly around his back as she pulled her head back momentarily to catch her breath, she looked up into Yoongi’s eyes and it was as if she was seeing him for the first time. The slight redness in his cheeks made her grin playfully as she sent her lips plunging back to his, her head shifted to the side with precision as she snaked her tongue past his lips. Yoongi no longer felt the need to be gentle, he put his all into the kiss now, and he let her in, tongues massaging and bodies wrapping up in one another as his hand slid down Adrienne's torso to firmly grasp her hips and hold her steady.

The feeling of her fingernails dragging across the skin of his neck ignited a five-alarm fire within Yoongi and just as quickly and unexpectedly as their kiss started, he ended it. Detaching his hands from her waist and immediately backing away like Adrienne was radioactive.

"I'm sorry," He said breathlessly with his hand covering his slightly swollen lips. "I shouldn't have done that" Yoongi croaked, that one moment was validation of something he'd wanted for such a long time, but he couldn't allow himself to completely abandon his self-control.

"Please, don't apologize," Adrienne answered, still trying to catch her breath "You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to kiss me."

"No, I have to because I can't.....we can't...we can't do this Andy!" Yoongi frantically exclaimed, pushing the hair away from his face roughly.

The strength of his response made Adrienne flinch slightly, he wasn't yelling but there was a temper behind his words that she didn't fully recognize, "Okay." She nodded and adjusted her top so that it laid flat over her stomach again. 

"I don't want to sound desperate but why?"

"We just can't," Yoongi exhaled and hung his head low.

"I-is it because I'm black?"

He spun around quickly to face her with his expression contorted in confusion, "What? No!"

"Then what is it?"

Yoongi sighed heavily and took a seat on the sofa then patted the seat next to him and gestured toward Adrienne "Come here."

Adrienne followed his command and occupied the seat next to him, he took both of her hands in his once she was seated.

"You heard what PD-nim said today." He started softly, his thumb gentle caressing the back of her palm. "I have a very demanding job. It's not that I wouldn't want to be with you, but I also want to have a successful career and I don't know if I could handle doing both. I know that seems selfish but I've given up so many things in my life to make sure that I can do this to the best of my abilities and I can't become lenient now, no matter how tempting the thought of this is." He accompanied his words with another gentle stroke against Adrienne's cheek.

"If we got together I wouldn't feel right unless I was giving you every part of me and I can't do that and be good at my job, Andy" He frowned and cradled her face with both of his hands "I have so many goals to accomplish before I can give my heart away and I can't just ask you to wait for me...that wouldn't be fair."

Adrienne bit down harshly on her bottom, she understood where he was coming from. Honestly, she did but still didn't stop her from feeling like he was just admitting to being too afraid to take a risk. She didn't voice her opinion, however, he was bearing his heart to her and accusing him of being a coward would undoubtedly only ensure that he would never do that again.

"I understand," She responded with a tight, forced smile; her palms smoothing up Yoongi's forearms until the rested over his hands "I don't totally agree but I understand, your job is important to you and it wouldn't really be fair for me to ask you to put it on hold." Adrienne leaned forward and pressed her lips against Yoongi's cheek long enough so that her lipstick transferred to leave an outline of her lips against his pale skin.

"If you change your mind you know where to find me."

[wavbleu]

So stereotypical- jacob elordi

No warnings or tags

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I jumped into a high toe touch waving my green and yellow pom-poms in the air, yelling at the top of my lungs "Go leopards go!" , they were a few points away from winning the game.

The crowd grew in volume as the team worked there way to the touchdown line.

The stadium went silent and the tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife, everyone was on the edge of there seats, watching the one football player, #25 make his way to the touchdown line, i began to bite my fingernails. We needed to win this game.

Thats when he scored the touchdown, the leopard allies went wild, people were ringing bells and the football players were doing chest bumps. Another L for the Lions.

I clapped my pom-poms and did a back flip, cheering with joy.

After a few minutes of celebration people began to leave, that was my cue.

"Come on girls, back to the locker rooms." I said to my fellow cheermates, the all followed me in a single filed order, back to the locker rooms to change.

(tiny time skip)

It was pretty dark, 11:00 pm to be exact, It was an away game and when you have busy parents they will never be able to show, so i have to drive myself. I always had a strange feeling in my guts when it came to walking in dark parking lots but like hey woman things.

I opened my car door and threw my cheer bag in the passenger seat, thats when i heard a voice call for me, i turned around and saw Jacob, the head of the football team, "#25" he was sitting in the back of his truck, drinking a beer.

Jacobs P.O.V

_________________________________

"Hey." I called out to the pretty girl, she turned her head and looked at me, her eyes widened and her expression grew confused. "Yea I'm talking to you." I would give her a light smirk assuring her that im not some crazy person.

"Hi Jacob." She would come up to me giving me a light smile, "Want a beer? I know your tired" I offered her a beer, "Oh no , I dont drink beer." She waved her hand at it in disapproval.

"I have White Claw if that suits your interest, Princess." A cute, angry face grew, "Im not a princess." I nodded sarcastically and laughed.

She took a seat next to me, snatching the White claw from my hand, I chuckled. "Nice game today." She nudged my elbow "Thanks" i say. The silence was killing me softly.

She then popped open the drink, it let out a loud "szzz" until some of it spilled on her sweatpants and shirt. "Shit." She mumbled frustrated.

We both went to grab the towel, making our hands meet, "Sorry." I apologize, beginning to blush, her hand felt like silk and was small and cute, i could fiddle with her fingers all day. She started to wipe off her hands and her pants and shirt, drying it of the liquids.

"I dont think i really remember your name." I question her, "Was it Y/n" i say with a questionable tone in my voice, she then nodded and gave me a smirk. 

"Oh yea! Your in my chemistry class! i copy off your work all the time." I giggle, "Well i suck in that class so good luck." She stated with a small chuckle.

"But you always get good grades in that class, i dont understand." I commented, "I have my ways." she went to sip her drink.

My mind began to ponder, what the fuck does she do to maintain a 95+ thats when it hit, "Oh my god do you suck the teachers dick?" I scrunched my nose in disgust, our chemistry teacher was old and grainy, his dick must be old and shriveled up to. "NO, My parents are very good with there words.." She claimed.

I didn't buy it, not for a second. "You liar you deep throat his dick every day just to keep a good grade." I snapped at her, " And so what if i fucking did, its working aye!" She argued back.

feisty, i like her.

"I already told you my parents are lawyers and lawyers have a great way with there words." she recited, "Okay." I chuckled, finishing off my beer.

The silence grew again.

I glanced at her and examined her body a bit she was shivering and her cheeks were red, the wind blew cold air right at her and her tiny body couldn't take it .

"Here" I turned behind me and grabbed the large blue fleece blanket, wrapping it around her. "Aren't you cold?" She says in a worried tone, i looked her deep into her big eyes, they were full of worry and care.

"Ill be fine." continuing to take another sip of my second beer I was actually really cold but i didn't want to invade her personal space or force myself onto her, The last thing i wanted was for her to become uncomfortable around me.

"You should go easy on those." she said taking the bottle from me. "You need to stay sober and drive."

I loved how she tried to make it seem like she didn't care but she actually cares, a-lot, she reminds me of.. me.

I tried to hide my shivers but that failed tremendously, "Dude just take the blanket with me." She said opening her arms.

I scooted into her arms and she attempted to put the blanket over me, i was twice her size , it was cute watching her throw the blanket over my shoulder repeatedly.

"How about we lay down instead." I said with a light chuckle, "Please."  she insisted.

We laid on the back of the truck looking at the beautiful stars in the sky, it was like those teenage indie movies but better acting.

"Even though we just had our proper introduction, i really like you, i can kinda see myself through you." I said in a sincere and empathetic tone.

She turned to me and looked at me with those beautiful eyes, i stared right back at her, "You make me feel safe." her glance went down to my lips then back at my eyes.

The moonlight hit her skin, making it glitter and glow, her lips were pink and plump and kissable, her hair was as soft as silk. Her eyes were dark and full of mystery.

I couldn't resist not kissing her, it was a small smooch before i pulled back. Hoping she would consent to it.

She swiftly leaned in for a longer, more intense and passionate kiss, who knew i would kiss a girl i barely knew for atleast an hour, but at the same time it felt like we have been talking for years before.

I began to tower myself over her, the pace of the kiss quickening, i lightly grabbed her neck and began to kiss around her ears, she let out a light, and sexy moan.

"Do you want me to slow down?" i say with heavy breaths following, "No." she says , attaching her rosy and sweet lips back onto mines.

I lowered my grip down to her full, breasts.

"Please~" she softly begged with a neck roll, the need  was filling her up fastly, to keep up I took off the great sweatshirt she had on, revealing her perfect boobs, covered with a dark green laced bra. 

We were really about to have sex in a empty parking lot in the back of a black truck, with no regards.

I went behind her and detached the bra with 1 hand, letting it come lose, I connected my mouth to one of her boobs, she let out a whimper as i plastered bright red hickeys all around it.

"Are you a virgin?" I ask, unbuckling my pants. She nods her head no, i give her a mischievous smirk before i tower myself over her again.

I smoothly slid down her pants, following her panties, she gave my sexy and hungry stare which made me even harder.

I threw the blanket over us for some.. privacy, then i slid into her, she let out a gasp at my size. I felt her hands dig into my back as she moaned into my ear, every stroke i gave her.

I began picking up speed, I grabbed her neck with a tight grip and whispered dirty things into her ear, "You feel that baby?" I say sitting up, holding her legs open, i could feel her wanting to close them from embarrassment of how much she enjoyed it, but i held them wide open. She whimpered as she felt like she had no control.

I pressed onto her pelvis area, i could almost feel my dick inside of her.

While she was in a vulnerable position i took the chance to start rubbing her sensitive clit with my thumb, Her breath hitched at the pain so pleasurable.

I pulled out then flipped her around in a swift motion, she let out a squeal from being so startled.

I slapped her bare ass, it jiggled and left a bright red hand print on it in response.  I slowly re-entered myself back into her tight insides. I put my hands on her waist to arch her back, giving me a deeper thrust right onto her g-spot, the sound of her cheeks clapping and her screams filled the air.

"Fuck me!~" She would yell in a deeper more erotic tone, I could tell and feel that she was close to cumming. Her insides tightened, perfectly hugging itself around my cock.

"Im gonna-" She said before abruptly stopping herself from throwing her ass back onto me, her legs began shaking and her whole body was trembling "Fuuc-" She said with a gasp, i smirked mischievously as i watched her turn into a slutty mess.

I slowed down for a bit to make sure she didn't get over-stimulated, allowing herself to calm down so we could continue.

I lifted her by her throat, sliding my two long fingers down her throat making her gag, "Suck." i would forcefully demand, she obeyed.

I started to pick up speed once again, i was getting closer to my breaking point. She could tell because she began tightening herself onto me, I couldn't take it any more, I put her back on all fours then grabbed onto her waist again, beginning to pound her into oblivion.

"Fuck!" I would grunt as she squirted all over me, My thrusts became unbelievably sloppy, "Cum in me~" She would politely ask.

After a few more deep and rough pounds i unleashed all of my creamy cum into her, I could barely breathe from the pain of that, but it felt so amazing.

I pulled out of her the juices dripped all over the back of the truck. Tired, I hunched over her, laying my head on her back, trying to catch a breather from what we just did.

____________________________________

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control, Chapter Four

an A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to Sarah J Maas!

Primarily Feysand. 

Warnings for drinking, mature content, etc.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Please Enjoy and let me know if you want to be tagged! 

Four

Monday morning was my first practice with the middle distance group. Luckily, Mor had swooped in and decided we were carpooling to my first day, so she’d picked me up at 5:00 at my house and we’d ridden in to practice together. Indie music issued from her car’s speakers while I struggled to stay awake on the passenger side. 

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

I shrugged. Yes. “No,” I said. 

She yawned. “I bet you are. But don’t worry. Just get in a lane with me, or Rhys, or even Azriel and you’ll be fine. You’re fast as hell, I know that, so you’ll keep up with us without any trouble.”

Her encouragement helped. A little.

But practice ended up going just fine. I wasn’t as weak as I could be. The past month of me spiraling into an enormous confused mess had taken its toll but moving from distance to middle distance masked most of that. I needed to get my ass into gear and fast if I wanted to make the travel team, though.  Coach King’s words had been anything but encouraging on that front.

And now I knew why. The list for this weekend’s travel team had been posted that morning outside the locker rooms. I had not made it. The first time I hadn’t been chosen to travel. I tried to be upset and I was a little disappointed in myself. 

But I didn’t care as much as I should have. As much as I would have a year ago if I hadn’t made the travel team. I really needed to sort myself out. 

Mor gave me a clap on the shoulder and didn’t say anything. She probably thought she’d upset me if she tried to comfort me. Really, I was embarrassed I hadn’t made it, not disappointed because I couldn’t compete. Which was the wrong way to feel about something I was supposed to be passionate about. 

After practice, we headed over to the gym for weights. I partnered with Mor, who kept up a constant stream of chatter, explaining a few new movements I hadn’t previously done while training with the distance group. 

Cassian came over about halfway through the workout. “Hey ladies.”

Mor rolled her eyes as she struggled to deadlift something like 250 pounds. I turned to Cassian. He was attractive--obviously. Dark hair, growing fairly shaggy. Stubble covering his impeccable jawline. Hazel eyes that constantly focused on everything in front of him with clear intent. Unless he was drunk. I’d seen Cassian drunk off his ass at many-a-college-party.

“How was your first day, Feyre?” He winked at me, ignoring the attitude emanating from Mor, who was moving through her five reps with the bar very slowly. I could tell it was playful, though. 

The desire for a friendship like theirs, a group like Rhys’s and Mor’s, suddenly overwhelmed me. 

“Not too bad. A lot less yardage in this group than I’m used to,” I said a little competitively. Wasn’t that what my mom had always said, before she’d died? Talk to people as though they are already your friends and you’ll become friends much faster? Cassian was my new training partner--as all those in Mid-D group were. I may not care so much for the direction my swimming career was headed in right now but I could at least make an effort to make friends with Rhys and Mor’s friends. Especially since Cassian had intentionally come over here to talk to me, it seemed. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Archeron. It may have been shorter in terms of length but it was definitely way more intense than you’re used to. You could barely stay under for those eight underwaters, if I remember correctly.”

He was right. Underwaters were killer. This morning we had finished our warmup set with 8x25s (eight lengths of the pool) all underwater on thirty-five second intervals. Not my favorite thing in the world. 

“Give me a week and I’ll be swimming circles around you and your whole group. Above or under the water.”

He smiled and I could tell he was pleased with the very tame trash talk I’d been able to muster. I wondered how much Rhys had told him about the wreck that had been my life for the past few weeks. Months. Year. Cassian had probably come over here out of pity, to help the poor, friendless, out-of-shape Feyre Archeron. No thanks. 

“We’ll see about that. I’m glad to have you in the group. Az is too. Sometimes a change is good. We need more hard workers in Middle D.” 

I blinked. Was that. . . pride I was feeling at his mild praise? “Thanks, Cassian.”

He gave me a salute and crossed back over to the rack he was sharing with Azriel and Rhys. Azriel was deadlifting but Rhys was looking directly at me. I met his eyes. Then Cassian said something and Rhys turned bright red. He snapped his attention to Cassian, obviously retorting defensively at whatever Cassian had said to make him so--self-conscious? I shook my head. None of my business, whatever those boys were joking about. Probably girls, or something. 

I didn’t let the possibility that Cassian had been teasing Rhys about me even cross my mind.  

As I moved to lift the trap bar, Mor having collapsed on the ground next to it and asking me to leave her there to die, I did let myself admit that Rhys’s behavior toward me over the past month had been. . . unnecessarily kind. And the possibility that he. . . felt something for me. . . 

I shut down that thought as quickly as it floated through the back of my mind. And as I pulled the trap bar up, an enormous 

BANG

sounded from Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys’s weight lifting platform.  

“SHIT!” 

I dropped the bar and rushed after Mor, who had taken off without a second thought, and found myself pushing through the small crowd of people already forming around the platform before I knew what I was doing. Rhys, doubled over, his hands braced on the bench in front of him, had his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Cassian was setting a fifty pound weight off to the side. . . and I put together what had happened. That weight had fallen onto Rhys’s . . . foot? Leg? Toes? 

He looked to be in a lot of pain, although he hadn’t uttered a word. The curse had come from Cassian. 

Azriel was already there, easing Rhys’s arm around his shoulders and helping him take a seat on the bench as our athletic trainer ran over. 

“Get back to work, everyone. Only two rounds to go,” our weight trainer said and everyone turned to head back to their stations. Mor made no move that suggested she planned on leaving Rhys’s side. And for some reason I found that I couldn’t either. 

Our trainer, Madja, knelt next to Rhys. “What happened?” She asked gently, assessing the situation with her cunning eyes. Madja was the best of all the athletic trainers at Prythian University. Rhys was in good hands.

Cassian, running his hands through his hair, spoke. “I was being an idiot. I tried to pick up the fifty and the thirty at the same time and I wasn’t paying attention, so the fifty slipped out of my hands while I tried to re-rack them. Fuck, Rhys, I’m so sorry. Shit.”

Madja raised her brows at Cassian’s cursing but said nothing. Rhys, despite looking as though he was in a fair amount of pain, gritted out, “You didn’t do it on purpose, Cass. It’s just sore. I can walk now, I think.” 

Before Madja could protest, he stood up. “See? I’m fine.”

Madja poked his shoulder, forcing him to put weight on his right foot. He hissed, eyes squeezing tightly shut.

“Sit.” Madja eased him back down onto the bench, then seemed to notice that Mor and I were still there.  “Didn’t you hear your coach? Finish lifting. Rhys will be fine.”

Mor nodded, biting her lip. She told Rhys to call her as soon as he knew anything in case he needed help getting home. She brushed past my shoulder as Rhys’s eyes met mine. Something in them seemed to. . . soften, as he looked at me. 

I gave him a hasty smile and turned away. And made sure the suspicion building within my mind was buried.

Deep.

-----------------

After weights, Mor bounced off to a four hour lab of some sort and I walked to class with Cassian and Azriel. All three of us had our Monday morning classes in the same building, luckily.

I’d been extremely nervous about making new friends in this group, and since my Saturday night “bonding session” had been severely interrupted, I’d figured it would take a while to find a group in Mid D. But as I had walked out of the locker room after weights, I’d found Cassian and Azriel loitering around the main path to campus as though waiting for someone. Mor had probably asked them to talk to me or something. 

I was pathetic if I needed someone to arrange my friendships for me.

But I knew Mor had my best interests in mind as I made to walk past the boys.  And I certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it myself. The boys fell into step beside me and Cassian started chattering away. 

“Feyre! Fancy seeing you here. Heard from Rhys about his foot? Did Mor say anything?” I could tell his guilt was eating him pretty badly. His eyes were wide and he radiated tension.  Cassian was in my year, a sophomore, but he’d quickly grown to become close friends with Rhys, Mor, and Azriel, who were all juniors. Amren, whom I hadn’t interacted with this morning, was a senior.

Azriel gave him a look as though pushing him to calm down, but I answered, “Mor hasn’t heard from him.”

Cassian cast his eyes down and I found myself suddenly eager to assuage his guilt. His attitude now was so at odds with the playful guy I’d spoken with in the weight room. “But I’m sure he doesn’t blame you, Cassian. It was an accident.”

Azriel pitched in. “You’ve got to relax, man. He’s not going to hate you.”

“What if I just ruined his career,” Cassian stated flatly.

Azriel launched into a long explanation for why a foot injury wasn’t going to ruin someone’s career and I realized this was probably the first time I had ever heard Azriel speak. He was definitely the quietest of their group, usually overshadowed by all of his friends. All of them had such large, loud personalities. Mor was both chipper and an absolute badass, Cassian had the confidence of a world leader, Amren took no shit, and Rhys was self-assured and--the thought flew through my mind, unbidden--sexy.

I shook my head. Rhys and his sexiness did not belong there. 

But Azriel. . . he was fast. Always traveled to compete with the team. Had decent grades, from what I’d heard. He was one of the few who didn’t hook up with girls from the team. He was just. . . quiet. 

Cassian’s voice broke into my thoughts. “Well as soon as I hear from him I’m going to the med clinic or wherever he is. What if he can’t travel with us this weekend?”

Azriel sighed. “He’ll hang out with Feyre, I’m sure. Pretty ideal--” He cut himself off at the look Cassian was now giving him over my head. 

“What?” I asked, glancing between them. 

“Guess I’m not the only stupid, clumsy one around here,” Cassian finally grinned, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Rhys will hate us both when he gets out of the doctor’s.”

“Bye Feyre!” Azriel said hastily and he and Cassian sped through the doors of our building, up the stairs and out of my sight before I could badger them for details about what they’d meant.

My suspicion grew.

----------------------------------

After my three classes, I headed back to the parking lot to wait for Mor’s lab to finish.  I hadn’t realized that I’d be stranded on campus for an extra few hours since she’d been my ride. And almost as if she’d sensed me thinking about her, my phone rang. 

“Feyre! Thank God you picked up. I need an enormous favor, that will also happen to benefit you.”

I tried to respond but she trilled on in her usual way. I couldn’t help smiling a little to myself. Mor was so confident with her every word and yet kind at the same time. Nothing like Ianthe, who’d talked over me constantly for the past year and a half, always feeling the need to be in the spotlight of whatever conversation we had, with whoever we were with. I’d take Mor over Ianthe any day, I realized.

“I’m in the middle of my lab but Rhys just called me. His foot is 100% broken. He can’t travel this week, nor can he swim for at least the next month. Don’t get me started on how devastated he is. I feel awful for him, and for how I know Cassian is going to feel, too. The doctors want him to go home but it’s his right foot, so he can’t drive himself. I know you can’t get back to Astrid Oaks until I’m done but. . . What if you got the keys from Rhys and drove him back there? The doctor wants him to rest the rest of the day. No class.” 

I didn’t even have to think about it. I owed Rhys enough already and he was probably in a lot of pain, not to mention anxious over his swim season. “Of course. Where is he now?”

Mor told me to head over to the Med Clinic at the edge of campus. “Oh, and Feyre? He has no idea I’m sending you. He’s kind of embarrassed that it’s broken and that his season was just doomed so he might be kind of surprised when you show up! Okay bye!”

She ended the call. Great. 

I pressed on toward the clinic though, and found Rhys sitting in the lobby, staring down at his phone, his foot in one of those black boots and a pair of crutches leaning against the chair next to him. 

He looked up only when I stood right in front of him. A frown covered most of his face. “Feyre.”

This might have been the first time I’d ever received a less-than-enthusiastic greeting from Rhys. I could tell from his facial expression and tone that he was not in a good place right now. 

“Hi,” I said and sat down next to him.

“Mor sent you didn’t she.”

I nodded, daring to glance at him from the corner of my eyes. 

He groaned and leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the wall. “I do love my cousin.”

“You’re cousins? I never knew…” I had used to assume that Rhys and Mor had a thing, or something, considering the fact that they’d been roommates since they’d moved out of the dorms. They’re interactions over the past few weeks had mostly disproved that, but. . .

“Most people kind of assume we’re involved in some way. Nope. Just cousins. And because of that, Mor usually takes it upon herself to do things that she thinks will be ‘good’ for me. Often without consulting me on them.”

“How would me coming to pick you up and take you home be considered ‘good’ for you?”

I dared another glance. His ears were bright pink. I instantly regretted my question. I used to think that the great Rhysand Night could never be flustered but. . . Now I wasn’t so sure. 

“So you are taking me home?” It didn’t escape my notice that he had avoided my question. 

“If you’ll let me. Doesn’t seem like you can drive yourself, and walking would probably take you all day. . .” 

He let out a sharp exhale of breath from his nose. “Alright. Let’s go then.” He made to stand but before I could stop myself I had my hands on his shoulders and I was forcing him back down. He stilled at my touch, and I didn’t think it was just because he knew he should stay off his foot.

“No, no, no. You give me your keys right now and I’ll go find your car in the athletics lot and bring it here. You are not crutching your way back across campus.”

“Feyre.” I was pleased to hear he sounded more exasperated than sullen for the moment.

“Rhys.” I put my hands on my hips. 

“Fine, Mom,” he said sarcastically and passed me his keys. 

“Thank you. Don’t move or you’re grounded.”

Twenty minutes later I pulled up outside the med clinic and found Rhys seated on a bench outside. He used his crutches to get to the passenger side and clumsily got in, pulling the crutches in beside him and tossing them into the back. We were five minutes down the road when he spoke.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“Nothing I’ve done for you over the past two weeks has been because I wanted you in my debt.” He was back to his sullen self. I didn’t like it. I wanted his mind off of his current situation. An injury like a broken bone for an athlete. . . Wasn’t good, to say the least.

“I know. Neither is this. Although. . .”

I waited, but he didn’t bite. His uncharacteristic silence really unnerved me.

“I could think of ways you could repay me.”

“What does that mean.” 

I clicked my tongue. “I’m sure you’re well versed in all the ways you can repay a woman.”

He stiffened, then turned in his seat, eyes wide. A smirk erupted across his face. “Why are you suddenly so eager to help me, Feyre darling?” 

I smiled at my victory. “Perhaps I’m interested in what the payout for me is, after all.”

He rolled his eyes and settled back in his seat, nothing more than a satisfied male. “When I’m back on my feet again, Feyre, you might just find out.” 

And damn me for feeling it barely two weeks after my breakup with Tamlin but I couldn’t prevent the thrill that raced through my body at his words. 

Time to get this conversation back on track.

“So what’s the official prognosis?”

“Broken,” he sighed, although his somber attitude was all but gone. “At least four weeks until recovery. They put me in this boot for now and I’ve got to go back tomorrow for x-rays and shit. Crutches until the pain goes away and they clear me to put weight on it. I’m clearly not traveling for our dual meet this weekend.”

I worried he’d slip back into his early drudgeon. “Looks like we’ll have to find something to do with ourselves while everybody’s gone, then.”

Despite himself, he smiled. “Looks like it. Isn’t that going to be a lot of social time for you, though? The Feyre I knew a month ago would probably hole herself up in her room if she wasn’t able to travel. Talk to no one.”

“You barely knew me a month ago,” I reminded him. “You still barely know me now.” I didn’t mention Tamlin’s tendency to insist I hang out with him and only him--or Ianthe. I remembered the day he’d walked in on Lucien and I as we innocently watched a horror movie last year. The fight between the two had been earth-shattering. And all we had done was turn on a movie to watch as friends while we waited for Tamlin to finish a final, or something.

No one but Tamlin and I knew why Lucien had transferred from Prythian University to swim somewhere halfway across the country. And even though Lucien had never had the strength to stand up to Tamlin, he’d been a decent friend to me. Friend and nothing more, and yet Tamlin’s jealousy destroyed his friendship with Lucien and drove Lucien away from the school. It didn’t do much for Lucien’s and my relationship, either. I hadn’t spoken to him in a long time.  The reality of my stupidity at remaining with Tamlin hit me again. 

Rhys seemed to read my mind though. “I know you more than you think. And I guess now that you’re single it’s easier to have friends. I hope at least that’s a positive for you. I know it must be hard.”

I knew it pained him to say those words and I was grateful for them all the same. “Yeah. There’s a lot less arguing, too. And at least if I want to hole myself up in my room alone now, it’s my choice.”

He didn’t respond for a while. “I guess you’re going to be my personal chauffeur this week while everyone else prepares to travel. No holing yourself up til after then, I’m afraid. I’ll need someone to cater to my every whim.”

“I think the price of my services just increased.”

He reclined in the chair. “I promise it’ll be worth your while.” 

“Pig.” 

[edgythought]

Strangers in the Bar II

Part I  |  Part III

Alex Turner x OC (I guess??)

Description: Two lonely people observe each other in a bar. It leads to something nice. Word count: 2,982

Warning: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking.

A/N: Nobody wants the second part but I am posting it anyway. Maybe, you'll enjoy. If you do, let me know! 

The time flew by like a super-modern spaceship through the deep void of silent space and my stay in LA was coming to an end about just as fast. I still didn't know if I liked the city or not. It was totally different from what I'd seen before, but the aftertaste wasn't that pleasurable as I thought it would be.  Maybe I was a prisoner of my own superstitions and prejudices, but I will never know. Moreover, Californian weather is just not my cup of tea, I would prefer something a lot more northern than constant heat and melting asphalt. But I must admit the city has its own unique vibe you cannot casually pass by, it wipes you away with its simultaneous boldness and sneakiness. 

It was a challenge for me not to think about the dancing dude I met the first night. Let's be clear, I hadn't fallen in love, but there was definitely a spark between us, even if it was a result of drinking too much. Some nights I even wanted to google him, but my drunk ass never asked for his name. His face looked familiar, like I've seen him before, but I couldn't remember for shit when and where. So, I gave googling up and continued with doing my stuff, which was a lot more important than some random guy I popped into at some bar. I thought it was a drunk adventure and this gave some assurance it will not happen again and I can move on. But I'd be lying if I said what happened didn't bother me in a way I didn't want it to. 

I was always very sensitive to vibes and energy people are emitting. That feature brought a lot of pain, but also a lot of understanding, so I tried to develop it as much as I could. And what I saw and sensed that night made me think about it way too much. I saw a lonely person trying to enjoy a simple moment of happiness, but I also saw a sharp mind and a visible ache in his eyes. I totally understand it may sound like an absolute bullshit, but I got the impression we were vibing at the same frequency in some way and it would be stupid of me not to admit I would do it again without thinking. And this fact was bothering me a lot. It was something I couldn't accept, like, how can it possibly be real — to meet a guy and have such a connection with him without even speaking to one another? Bear with me, I told my friends a lot, while sharing this story with them. But could I bear with myself? The answer is not really.

My time in LA is coming to an end, I thought, it would be nice to say goodbye where I started. To finish the adventure properly and leave for good.

It wasn't much later when I saw some familiar spots I observed while smoking near the bar on my first day in LA. Those palm trees were actually fascinating in a pastel background of the twilight sky, warm and so close you may have had a chance to touch it. There was no clouds whatsoever, so I took a pic of tree silhouettes to remember this beautiful view when I'm back home. What if Los Angeles becomes my home? I thought to myself strolling down the road, searching for a sign indicating a spirit-scented place. Soon enough I saw it on the other side of the street and rushed there. It wasn't as crowded as I remember it to be, but I guess that's going to change in an hour or so. I came too early, but I desired to get wasted and nothing was standing in my way so I just followed the waitress into the bar and crawled on the stool with all the grace I managed to find in my body. The bartender asked me what I'd like to have and I ordered "Orgasm" without thinking. Dude tried to make a joke out of it but unfortunately I wasn't impressed since I heard it way too much throughout my whole cocktail-drinking life. It was only funny the first couple of times. Anyway, I came to drink and I got what I wanted in 4 minutes. I spent the time glaring around, but there was nothing unusual for my eye to catch, just a bar, millions of them around the world. The music was on point, though. I thought it was a jukebox, the one you pay to put a song on, but I was wrong. Turned out, it was one of the bartenders who was in charge of music for the night and they took turns to be a DJ. At least, that's what I heard from the bartender, when I made a remark on the music. I was quite impressed, since it's mostly jukeboxes I saw in this kind of places. I found it pretty authentic and also very encouraging for the personnel to try their chances with music. What is more LA than that? 

My cocktail was tasty enough for me to distract myself with it for a while. My head was almost empty and I felt I achieved what I was striving for, so I needed to think what to do next. I was alone and a little bored. Maybe I can try to talk to someone? Just for the sake of having a conversation… - I thought - People are probably thinking I am a weirdo, I came alone and I drink alone. Well, this is who I am now and bitches shall accept that. Anyway, the drink was so delicious I finished it without realizing it. I ordered another one and decided it would be nice to smoke. 

When I got out I saw the last couple of minutes of the hot Californian twilight and was left to enjoy the early night. Cicadas were singing their oddly rhythmic song and I was inhaling smoke like it was my last cigarette on earth. It was nice to feel the relaxation spread from my chest to my hands and then knees. It felt nice having nothing to worry about for a night  and just do whatever your heart tells you to, even if it's totally stupid. The smoke twirled in the air above my head in irregular spirals. I watched it slowly dissolve in thick warm air, traffic noise making the whole experience a little bit ambient. I took out another cigarette and lit it from the previous one, as I had lost my lighter a few days ago and hadn't bought another one yet. I know, I know. My mind was in a weird state, I felt very calm and very nervous at the same time and I couldn't say what exactly caused it. I should probably stop drinking and smoking so much. But not today. 

My cigarette was quickly coming to an end as I watched people gathering near the bar entrance for a small chat or a smoke. I went back inside to continue my contemplation with a cocktail in my hand, but I was also determined to get to know someone. Maybe, that cute bartender who served the "dancing juice" will be back? I could talk to him, at least I did last time and it wouldn't be that awkward. But I haven't seen him today yet and I wasn't sure I will, therefore I decided to concentrate on people, cruising back and forth between table area and the bar itself. Everyone seemed very comfortable and friendly, but not a one familiar face in the whole room. Suddenly, I heard a phrase that made me jump on my stool and rush to the dance floor, occupied by two young men in weird shorts. 

Get on your dancing shoes!

I cannot explain why the indie tunes from 2000s made me so eager to dance, but they did and I was fine with it. I wiggled my ass to the beat, shook my head and pretended to sing the song to the boys in weird shorts. They somehow agreed to take part in my performance and the three of us had a very nice time dancing and jumping around for the next couple of songs. Soon I was very hot and went back to my place at the bar to take a sip of my drink and order a refill and some water. I went to the bathroom right after I saw the bartender nod at me, letting me know he heard what I told him, as the music was getting louder.

I was surprised to see there was no queue to the bathroom, so I used my chance not to hurry and take my time to fix my makeup and hair. I was even more surprised to see the bar crowded when I finished and I was absolutely flabbergasted to find my place at the bar occupied by some dick! Can you tell I went from 0 to 100 in a couple of seconds? My mood wasn't so great before but now it was pretty much spoiled. I saw the guy talk to the bartender and put my drink aside and my ass went off. Somehow in such situations I have a resting bitch face, which may serve an impression of me being unbothered, but it's not exactly how I felt then. I was furious because there was no other place to sit at the bar and it was just rude of the guy to sit on my stool, cause there was my drink, signifying it was occupied.

I came up to the dude and touched his shoulder to catch his attention. He turned around with half a smirk quickly changing into a look of surprise. I could feel my eyes grow in size when I saw who it was. "Is it fucking real?" - I asked myself, trying to be less shook. What an amazing coincidence, my stool at the bar was occupied by the dancing dude! - Who would have thought, am I right? — he said, fully turning to face me. — Not me, for sure. Get off my stool. — I shoo'd him from the stool but he didn't move a muscle. — Nope. You weren't sitting here when I came in, so it's mine now. — I raised my eyebrow in disbelief. — Don't be a little dick, you've seen my glass standing right here.  — I will buy you another one if you get off my dick. And once we are talking about that…. — he chuckled a bit. — You can sit in my lap if you fancy. My eyes widened, I was astonished by his bold move. — Are you flirting with me? — Who knows. So, mardy bum? Are you climbing in my lap or …? — he asked, looking attentively at my face with a wide smirk, pleased with himself. 

I threw my hands in the air silently and turned my back on him. I didn't fancy sitting in a random dude's lap, even if the dude was kinda hot and not actually random. Oh God, FUCK! He looked a bit different this time; his beard was trimmed and his hair was gelled back, black shirt and pants so tight I could probably see the outline of his underwear if he wore any. What a dweeb. I guess I'd recognized him instantly if I saw those pants. 

Why is this so embarrassing? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wanted to sass this bitch out, but I couldn't come up with anything merely appropriate for the situation, so I decided to ignore his questions and turned to take my glass. At this exact moment a very familiar and a really slow song came on.

I somehow lost my breath and fell into a spiral of memories I had associated with the song playing for a second. I was watching people dividing into pairs on the dance floor and it broke my heart a little. I remembered my ex-sweetheart holding me tight to him while this exact song played quietly in our apartment, right after the final fight we had. I remembered the emptiness I felt then and my eyes became too watery. I am not going to cry at the bar today, I told myself. No one was going to ask me to dance today anyway, I thought, and it stroke me pretty hard. I turned to go out of the bar to have a cigarette when the dancing dude touched my hand. I looked at him, struck by the sensation. He was offering his hand to me.

"Shall we dance a little?" 

I had no time to think properly and the whole situation felt a bit like deja vu. He was waiting for me to take his hand, eyes on me, wandering from hair to eyes, to boobs and back. I accepted his almost silent invitation and followed him to the middle of the dance floor.

When I'm around slow dancing in the dark Don't follow me, you'll end up in my arms

We were surrounded by different couples and that's one of the reasons I loved LA. It was just beautiful to see people simply dancing together. No one really cared what people might have thought of them, this is how it should be. He held my hands in his and as we're almost the same height I almost touched his long nose with mine. We remained silent while we were swirling in a very little space we had among all the people. His palms were soft and warm and I enjoyed his touch, even though I didn't want to admit it. 

Soon enough we got even closer and danced way slower. My lips were almost on his jaw as we were almost hugging each other to a sad song. Him being so close yet so far made me puzzled in some way. I didn't want this to happen and yet here I am, staring at dude's earlobes and gelled strands of wavy hair on the neck. Pretty view, should I say. He smelled exactly the same as I remembered and I found the smell heavenly complex. This sparked an idea to spend as much time in his arms as possible, but I shooed the thought away. It would be inappropriate.

I turned my head a bit to see his face clearly. His eyes were closed, but I could sense something going on in his head. He moved easily and graciously, even with me by his side and I was pleasantly surprised to realize he led me all the time we were dancing. I smiled a little to myself. It felt good to be in his arms and I decided it won't hurt to put my head on his shoulder, so I did. I took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne and smiled again. He tilted his head a bit, so it would touch mine. I thought about how we looked like on the dance floor seen by others. We probably look like two sad people dancing to a slow song, I sassed myself and shook my head a bit. Dude asked me if I was okay and I responded "sure". That was it, the whole conversation during the dance.

Can't you see? I don't wanna slow dance  In the dark

As the song was reaching its climax, we almost stopped moving at all. My hand that was placed on his shoulder slid down to his waist. He did the same with his hand, still holding mine. I liked him not pushing anything on me and appreciated the effort to be nice. It felt right to be this close to him somehow. I saw him lip-synching a little to the song and felt his warm breath on my cheek. I kept smiling as I watched his private performance. With the final phrase we stopped completely and just stood in each other's embrace for a couple of seconds longer than necessary. I didn't want to let him go. He seemed to feel the same. I blushed a bit, because it was getting awkward. Eventually, we split and I followed him to the bar.

He sat on a stool next to mine which appeared to be empty and gestured a bartender to come over. I sipped my cocktail, which I completely forgot about, to be honest. I was watching the dance floor and the dude turned to me and asked "Whatcha gonna drink, mardy bum?"

I did not expected that and took some time to proceed with the question. I looked at him, confused. "Nothing for now. Excuse me" i said and rushed to the bathroom. I didn't want to use it, however, I felt an urgent need to get away from his deep dark eyes inspecting my face. I turned on cold water and splashed some on my neck and chest to calm myself down. I guess I shouldn't have left like this, I thought, maybe I need to go back and try to have a normal conversation? I wanted to talk to someone less than half an hour ago. Oh no, there would be no conversation, darling, you will just stare at his face for an uncomfortably long time until he finds you creepy and leaves, I told myself. Well, this sucks but I have to go back anyway. I'd fancy a smoke, after all it was an experience and I definitely needed some nicotine in my system. I went out of the bathroom to finish my cocktail at the bar and found the dude's stool empty. It made me a bit sad, but I didn't say goodbye either, so it's only fair. I knocked my drink down and headed to the exit.