#Sheila Gray Collections

[edwinatoo]

What She Wore During NY Fashion Week - September 2023

Rarely does it happen but I had a jam Wednesday evening. There was just no way I could do Badgley Mischka at Delmonico’s in the financial district at 5pm, chat with my girl Coco Mitchell for a moment, and then make it all the way up to the Red Rooster restaurant in Harlem for Byron Lars, Sheila Gray and my favorite milliner Lisa McFadden’s IN EARNEST presentation at 6. I had to make a choice and…

[rubykgrant]

I don't know if I can finish art of them, but... RVB Mermay Thoughts~

Sarge; he's a crab. Naturally. Specifically, a hermit crab, so his back has a seashell over it, and his lower-half is the little crabby legs (his arms have hands, but also coverings of crab shell armor with these kind retractable top pincers in each, like singular Wolverine claws)

Simmons; he's a salmon (I just think it's funny- Simmons/salmon haha). After Grif gets hurt and needs some fin transplants, Sarge makes Simmons prosthetic ones out of various mechanical stuff he's collected from shipwrecks... everybody is surprised that it works

Grif and Kai; both threadfin butterfly fish (he's more orange, she's more yellow, and they both have streaks of those colors in their hair to match the stripes on the fins)

Donut; a pink axolotl (he's got the feather gills as his "ears", but one side got singed from getting hit by a hot volcanic rock. he also has an extra set of little hands lower on his torso, small and not very defined) mostly just use to help grab along rocks when he's in shallow water)

Lopez; an old fashioned deep-sea diving suit that got brought to life through mysterious circumstances, but Sarge decided to keep him

Church; angel fish (platinum blushing kind), he still dies/comes back and nobody is sure why... sometimes he's stuck as a "ghost" for a bit until he recovers enough energy to be solid, and then he'll be a pale color for a while (when he remembers more about who he is, he can gain little high-lights of colors from the Fragments). When separated from him, the Fragments seem like little "regular" fish with different glowing colors (neon tetra)

Tex; thresher shark (like Church, she dies/comes back. she also can't remember everything that caused this, but she's aware that somebody has tried to use this ability to revive somebody else... when that didn't work, they tried turning her into a "more powerful" mermaid, using old bone from a shark, meaning this is not her "true form", though she doesn't remember what that is any more)

Tucker; a stingray (with a pattern aqua/teal spots across the darker back. Junior appears as a HUGE guitarfish ray combined with concepts of old sea serpents, making him like a "modern leviathan")

Caboose; a "small" orca whale (he's bigger than the others, but little compared to other whale merfolk, with a dark blue/pale blue pattern instead of black/white)

Wash; a swordfish (dark gray along his back going down the lower body to the tail, with a yellow stripe that separates the pale underside. while the dark stripe comes down his face to his nose, making a pattern similar to having a "sharp point", the "sword" part are instead barbs on his elbows)

Carolina; beta fish (while the many frilly fins in shades of dark/light blue teal/turquoise are very pretty, she's deadly fast and packs a punch!)

Doc (and O'Malley); mimic octopus (Doc will try to look like something else to put people at ease/hide from something scary, while O'Malley uses the talent to BE the scary one haha)

Sheila; sunken sub that the Church's group found, and figured out how to turn it on/talk to it

Flowers; a bottlenose dolphin

Locus; a crocodile (hard scales across his back, and like Donut he has an extra set of limbs lower on his torso, the "forelegs" of a crocodile, mostly to grip/scratch enemies during close combat)

Felix; a lion fish (he's toxic)

Sharkface; GREAT WHITE, heck yeah!

(OCs)

Junonia; a spiny seahorse (mostly purple and pink)

Poppy; a harbor seal (tan/pale rosy colors)

[hurtinghabits]

Sheila & Pariston #1 (Sonnet)

With eyes opaquely dark and two-faced heart,  I stumble from one tragedy to yet  Another family that’s torn apart  By boundaries dividing life and death.  I hunt as Dino Hunter did before  For meaning to sustain a gray morale,  With any allies made discarded for  My game as damages collateral.  I see a sparkling-suited man upon  A passing glance at mirrors warped and tall;  The child with rat-infested home is gone,  Replaced by Rodent Zodiac who wins all. 

          This urge to jeopardize all that I love            Is the sole mask that fits me like a glove.

(Check out my HxH poetry collection on AO3! This one, which is about the Pariston is Sheila theory, is for a card challenge on @greedislandchallenge.)

[trivialbob]

Bob's big adventure.

This afternoon I went to a business I haven't been to in at least 20 years.

A dry cleaners!

When I first started working in a downtown office, I wore nice pants, jackets sometimes, dress shirts, and pretty ties four days per week.

That was in the era when Lands' End had much nicer clothing and catalogs, and everything wasn't perpetually on sale. Man, I loved paging through those thick catalogs. Before a LE store opened in the Twin Cities I made sure to visit the store in Madison, WI whenever I went back to my old campus.

The LE Hyde Park Oxford was my go to shirt. A dry cleaners by my house would press and starch shirts for $1.25 each. Fresh out of the plastic bag, on that wire hanger, those dress shirts felt like cardboard, and I loved it. My suits didn't need to be dry cleaned often. I think cleaning them cost six or seven dollars.

Over time, casual Fridays turned in to casual Mondays through Fridays. Then I started working at home full time.

Eventually I got rid of my nice collection of work clothes, saving three ties and one dark gray, all purpose suit for funerals and weddings. I have two good LL Bean Oxford shirts. They are made with wrinkle-free cotton and come out of the dryer in perfect condition.

Pictures over the last two decades at events would document me losing more hair, having varying body weight, and wearing one particular maroon paisley tie that is my longstanding favorite. Every time I tie it, it comes out with the perfect dimple.

This weekend Sheila and I are going to a wedding. At the last two we've been to I didn't wear a suit. A wedding of former Tumblr years ago saw me wearing a swimsuit and t-shirt.

Last night I tried on my suit. It's a little loose on me (yay). However it's also dusty from hanging in my closet for so long.

I took it and something of Sheila's to a nearby cleaners. The store's web page says it's been voted the area's best cleaners for 11 years. Yet it's new to me.

The lady working their smiled when I told her how long it's been since I needed something dry cleaned. Then told me the amount due.

For a moment I thought she was making a joke, her way of welcoming me back to the dry cleaning community.

LOL nope. Getting suits cleaned now is expensive.

[tiniedemon]

GLORY & GORE . . . chapter one

in which the quarter quell is announced

in a perfect world, the victor’s village would be a lovely place to live. every home was built to accommodate the wealthy victors of a murderous game built by a psychopathic society. the life of a victor was lavish, adorned in crystal and synthetic perfection.

the reality was much more grim, as you’d come to find in the full two years since your games. you’d mentored your first tributes, two headstrong youths with far too much faith in their groomed abilities. neither lived, eclipsed by the heartbreaking love affair in the poorest district.

their victory tour had ended mere weeks ago, punctuated by their sudden engagement. you’d watched it alongside your own mentor, a victor your age by the name of kyle broflovski. he’d won his games at the young age of fifteen, nearly five years ago. he was the youngest victor aside from district four’s kenny mccormick, who’d won nearly nine years beforehand at the age of fourteen.

kyle’s mother, a lovely woman by the name of sheila, had prepared his mansion for announcement of the third quarter quell. you were anxious, biting your fingernails, leg bouncing beneath the arm you’d propped on it. kyle’s calloused hand slid easily over your knee, an iced glass of whiskey in his shaking fingers.

scattered throughout the room were the victors of district three, six in number, almost exclusively men. you were one of two women, the other being a middle aged victim named liane cartman. she’d lost her husband to the capitol, and her son to the games two years prior. it was a tragic loss, orchestrated in your own arena by the career tributes. the other three were unimportant to you — grumbling, bitter old men with no desire to mentor the oncoming tributes. your escort, a lovely woman named kelly turner, rounded the rather large sofa to take a seat beside you.

“y/n, dear, why so nervous? this is the experience of a lifetime! we should all be honored to witness a quarter quell in all its glory,” kelly gushed, a bright smile on her face. she was lovely, but entirely brainwashed by the capitol. the games were simply that to her — games, a fun pastime, not a death sentence. it was unnerving, to see someone so excited for the slaughter of innocent children.

“maybe you’re right, kelly,” you mumbled, tossing a worried glance to the ginger victor at your side. he was visibly anxious, his hair tousled and his face gaunt, deep bags shadowing his under-eyes. you still found it within yourself to think he was gorgeous, despite the orange stubble, worry lines, and haunted eyes. there was something exciting about your attraction to the man, perhaps triggered by the certain punishment by the president if uncovered.

“it’s starting,” the man uttered, his breath catching in his throat. you snapped your head to the projected image on the clean white walls of his home, your stomach turning and your forehead collecting sweat. the president’s wrinkled face appeared onscreen, an unnervingly pleasant smile hidden in his graying beard. you gulped down the lump in your throat as he spoke.

“ladies and gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of the hunger games. and it was written in the charter of the game that every twenty-five years, there would be a quarter quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against the capitol.

“each quarter quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. and now on this the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third quarter quell as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the capitol. on this, the third quarter quell games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.”

the silence was deafening, ringing in your ears, your mouth falling open and your heart pounding out of your chest. you looked to liane, a devastated shell of a woman, her eyes hollowed and her body stiffened. you wanted to vomit — no, you were going to. you raced for the nearest waste bin, saliva pooling in your mouth, bile rising in your throat, and released your sick into it. everything about your body was collapsing, from your heart to your knees into the polished wooden flooring of kyle’s delightful home.

“victors shall present themselves on reaping day regardless of age, state of health, or situation.”

you couldn’t breathe, wheezing echoing in your ears, the room spinning at a speed your boggled brain couldn’t comprehend. you were going to be reaped again. if there’s one thing you knew for certain, it was this.

you were going to compete in your games again.

masterlist

[truefashionstories]

The Fashion Just Wants To Have Fun Story

Raval Davis: actor, tv host - NYFW SS24 Byron Lars/Sheila Gray Collection - Red Rooster, Harlem NY

I like color so I wanted to do a little color blocking. I brought out this super vintage Ferragamo bag that I bought in high school. I just wanted to do something fun.

[brandonshimoda]

THE BOOKS I READ IN 2022, in the order in which I read them (*books I read before, that I was reading again):

Alexandra Chang, Days of Distraction 

Elizabeth Miki Brina, Speak, Okinawa 

Cynthia Dewi Oka, Fire Is Not a Country 

Hanif Abdurraqib, Go Ahead in the Rain: Notes to A Tribe Called Quest 

*Cathy Park Hong, Minor Feelings 

Victoria Chang, Dear Memory 

*Etel Adnan, Of Cities & Women (Letters to Fawwaz)

Sun Yung Shin, The Wet Hex 

traci kato-kiriyama, Navigating With(out) Instruments 

Raquel Gutiérrez, Brown Neon

Solmaz Sharif, Customs 

*Etel Adnan, Journey to Mount Tamalpais 

Lucille Clifton, Generations: A Memoir 

Emerson Whitney, Heaven 

Kim Thúy, em, tr. Sheila Fischman 

Angel Dominguez, Desgraciado (the collected letters) 

Janice Lee, Separation Anxiety 

*Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, Dictee

*Cathy Park Hong, Translating Mo’um 

Kyoko Hayashi, From Trinity to Trinity, tr. Eiko Otake 

Lao Yang, Pee Poems, tr. Joshua Edwards & Lynn Xu 

Yuri Herrera, A Silent Fury: The El Bordo Mine Fire, tr. Lisa Dillman (

Mai Der Vang, Yellow Rain

Chuang Hua, Crossings 

José Watanabe, Natural History, tr. Michelle Har Kim

Walter Lew, Excerpts from: ∆IKTH 딕테/딕티 DIKTE, for DICTEE (1982) 

*Bhanu Kapil, The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers 

Vasily Grossman, An Armenian Sketchbook, tr. Robert & Elizabeth Chandler

Hiromi Kawakami, Parade, tr. Allison Markin Powell 

Lynn Xu, And Those Ashen Heaps That Cantilevered Vase of Moonlight 

*Etel Adnan, Sitt Marie Rose, tr. Georgina Kleege 

Jennifer Soong, Suede Mantis/Soft Rage 

*James Baldwin, No Name in the Street 

*Hilton Als, The Women

Dot Devota, >She 

V.S. Naipaul, The Return of Eva Perón 

Yasushi Inoue, The Hunting Gun, tr. Sadamichi Yokoo and Sanford Goldstein

Molly Murakami, Tide goes out 

Adrian Tomine, Shortcomings 

Hisham Matar, A Month in Siena 

Leia Penina Wilson, Call the Necromancer 

Gabriel García Márquez, News of a Kidnapping, tr. Edith Grossman 

Amitava Kumar, Bombay-London-New York 

Elizabeth Alexander, The Trayvon Generation 

Ryan Nakano, I Am Minor 

Constance Debré, Love Me Tender, tr. Holly James 

Hilton Als, My Pin-up 

Victoria Chang, The Trees Witness Everything 

Leslie Kitashima-Gray, The Pink Dress: A Story from the Japanese American Internment 

Emmanuel Carrère, Yoga, tr. John Lambert 

Ronald Tanaka, The Shino Suite: Sansei Poetry 

Patricia Y. Ikeda, House of Wood, House of Salt

Soichi Furuta, to breathe 

Kiki Petrosino, Bright 

Sueyeun Juliette Lee, Aerial Concave Without Cloud 

Nanao Sakaki, Real Play

Esmé Weijun Wang, The Collected Schizophrenias 

Francis Naohiko Oka, Poems 

Geraldine Kudaka, Numerous Avalanches at the Point of Intersection 

Steve Fujimura, Sad Asian Music 

Augusto Higa Oshiro, The Enlightenment of Katzuo Nakamatsu, tr. Jennifer Shyue 

Julie Otsuka, The Swimmers 

Salman Rushdie, The Jaguar Smile: A Nicaraguan Journey 

Margo Jefferson, Constructing a Nervous System 

Hua Hsu, Stay True 

Barbara Browning, The Miniaturists 

Kate Zambreno, Drifts 

*Julie Otsuka, When The Emperor Was Divine 

Louise Akers, Elizabeth/The Story of Drone

Wong May, In the Same Light: 200 Poems for Our Century from the Migrants & Exiles of the Tang Dynasty 

Gabrielle Octavia Rucker, Dereliction 

Trung Le Nguyen, The Magic Fish 

Jessica Au, Cold Enough for Snow 

Tongo Eisen-Martin, Blood on the Fog 

Lucas de Lima, Tropical Sacrifice 

*Like a New Sun: New Indigenous Mexican Poetry, ed. Víctor Terán & David Shook 

Billy-Ray Belcourt, A Minor Chorus 

Kazim Ali, Silver Road 

*Sadako Kurihara, When We Say Hiroshima, tr. Richard Minear 

Simone White, or, on being the other woman

*James Baldwin, The Devil Finds Work 

Christina Sharpe, Ordinary Notes 

*Raquel Gutiérrez, Brown Neon 

Marguerite Duras, The Man Sitting in the Corridor 

Gayl Jones, Corregidora 

*Bhanu Kapil, The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers 

*Etel Adnan, Seasons 

Gwendolyn Brooks, to disembark 

Cristina Rivera Garza, The Taiga Syndrome, tr. Suzanne Jill Levine and Aviva Kana

Gwendolyn Brooks, In the Mecca 

Nona Fernández, The Twilight Zone, tr. Natasha Wimmer

Selva Almada, Dead Girls, tr. Annie McDermott

*Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, Dictee

Valerie Hsiung, To Love an Artist

*Theresa Hak  Cha, Exilée and Temps Morts

Dao Strom, We Were Meant To Be a Gentle People

Randa Jarrar, Love Is An Ex-Country

*Dao Strom, Instrument

Osamu Dazai, Early Light, tr. Ralph McCarthy and Donald Keene

Osamu Dazai, The Setting Sun, tr. Donald Keene

Rachel Aviv, Strangers To Ourselves: Unsettled Minds and the Stories That Make Us

Mahmoud Darwish, Journal of an Ordinary Grief, tr. Ibrahim Muhawi

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

BatMom- Jason Todd

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2[Here]

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Jason Todd, Her Toughest Bird.

Marinette paced the Batcave anger clear on her face as she waited for Batman to get back with his newest Robin. She couldn’t believe Batman would go this far, he knew damn well that wasn’t his name to give away. Her thoughts were interrupted by the Batmobile skidding into the cave and parking. Batman and the young boy getting out, the new Robin took one look at her before sizing her up with a glare.

“Who's the angry lady B?” He said looking ready for a fight, which amused Marinette slightly. But her gaze focused on Batman as she upped her glare.

“Hello B, we need to talk.” She said stiffly before looking down at the boy with a stern look. “Alone.” She said firmly gesturing to the changing rooms. Jason huffed, pulling off his mask walking passed her indignantly. Marinette wasted no time tearing into Bruce the moment the door was closed. 

An hour later Marinette walked through the halls of the manor a frown still on her face. She stopped outside an opened door looking in on the newly adopted Jason Todd-Wayne. “Kid,” She called out catching his attention. “want to go out for ice cream?” Jason scoffed, closing his book giving her a deadpan look.

“Ya great idea let me go out with a woman that obviously doesn’t like me.” He said sarcastically waving his hand at her in a go away gesture. “Why would I even want to go with you in the first place?” Marinette smirked leaning against the door.

“First off I don’t know you enough to not like you, my anger at B will not be dragged over to you. “Second off we are going to Pico’s Ice Cream Gotham’s world renown Ice Cream Parlor, over two hundred flavors, I intend for us to eat so much Alfred has to pick us up. Finally B is paying and after your stunt with his tires, something tells me you’d be more than happy to waste his money.” She held up her hand showing Bruce’s Amex Black card held between her index and middle fingers. “So are you in or not kid?” Jason smirked, placing his book down and jumping out of his chair.

“Oh I am so down! Let's go get sick to our stomachs with Bruce paying!”

An hour later Alfred had arrived at Pico’s giving both of them a disappointed glare as they climbed into the shortened limo he had brought. Marinette and Jason laid on the floor facing each other, curled in on themselves.

“Was it worth it Miss Marinette, Master Jason.”

“Definitely.”

“Hell yes.” 

The two groaned out their response together shortly followed by a yelp from Jason after she had flicked his nose.

“Watch your language.” She said causing him to grumble while Alfred simply sighed, closing the door. A few moments later they felt the limo begin to move. Marinette closed her eyes trying to calm her churning stomach, well aware of Jason’s eyes on her.

“Why were you so mad at Bruce?” He asked softly, wanting to know yet not at the same time. Marinette was silent for a moment before opening her eyes, meeting his own. 

“B gave away something that wasn’t his to give away. Dick hadn’t let go over the title just yet, and Bruce in his anger ripped it away from him and gave it to you instead. He really hurt Dickie, that’s why I was so angry at him. Not at you, you’re innocent in this Jason.” She said softly groaning when Alfred took a sharp turn, showing his displeasure with his two current charges. “My anger is all towards B right now.” Jason nodded thinking over what she had said before he had another question.

“Why do you call him B, why not just say Bruce?” Marinette was silent before looking away with a slight blush.

“B stands for bitch and he knows it.” She said causing Jason to grin at her.

“Language.”

“Shut it little birdie.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, The Night Joker took him.

She sat at the door curled up crying begging for forgiveness, and Jason-Jason couldn’t find it in himself to give it. This woman, this woman had caused this, Sheila Haywood was no saint. No she was far from it, and unfortunately she was his mother. She was the one that gave birth to him, and now she’d be the one to help kill him. A dark part of him was happy she’d go with him but he’d never admit that out loud. His thoughts strayed from his so called mother as he watched the timer slowly countdown. Instead he thought of the one woman in his life that always tried. That was always there for him, that always stood up for him, and helped him build a relationship with his predecessor. He thought of the terrible fight they had, though he knew that it was mostly on his part. He had gotten too hard headed and Marinette was always stubborn and unwilling to bend with things she believed in. His Marinette wanted to help him meet his mother, she did even though it hurt her slightly and he had known it. She had helped him unlike Bruce who refused after the fight they had had, she helped even though it hurt. Yet he persisted and pushed and pushed until they finally found the women. Jason had insisted that he left for Ethiopia right away, planning to go alone. Ever protective Marinette had refused, told him he would not go alone and that they would go together.  She said she’d have everything ready at the end of the month, but that was not soon enough for him. He snapped at her demanding that she stayed out of it. He declared it was a family matter, and ignored the hurt in her eyes. She had told him not to be hard headed and that she was coming along. Only to be silenced and told that she was not going, he was being so stupid, he let his temper get the best of him. He told her she wasn’t family, that she was nothing but the woman that chased after his adoptive Father. Trying to find any excuse to have his attention, he regretted it so much when he watched her close in on herself. Her blue eyes dulled so much they looked gray, her ever perfect posture faltered but he hadn’t cared. He turned and left her there all alone. Just like he was now, all alone wishing that his mom was there. Wishing that his Marinette, his Mom was hugging him and running her fingers through his red hair.

“Jay-bird.” 

That was it, that's mom’s voice.

“Jay-bird, I don’t know if you can hear me, Gods I hope you do.”

He could hear the shake in her voice as his eyes landed on what he thought was his broken communicator. 

She’s crying, she should never cry.

“Bruce is on his way my little Fire-Cracker.”

She said choking back a sob, Jason twitched in his bond moving closer towards the communicator. His body protested every move as he made his way.

“Dickie isn’t on Earth right now but I told Clark he better get his ass off planet and to him as soon as possible.”

Jason let out a pain chuckle at her swearing, she rarely did it and it always surprised him to hear. Foul language was his thing; it should’ve never fallen from his mom’s mouth. Especially for the fact that she disliked crude language.

“Jay?”

She heard him, she can hear him.

“I’m here.”

He said his voice horse as he shed a few tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I snapped at you, after everything you did, I hurt you so much. I’m so sorry Mom. I should’ve stayed, I should’ve listened, I’m so sorry. I just want to be with you. I want to be with you so bad mommy.”

He said desperate for the women to know, desperate for forgiveness from his mother.

“Jay, my sweet baby bird, it's okay. Oh baby, I love you so much my beautiful boy. You wanted to find your birth mother and I will never hold that against you. You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me?”

Nine Seconds.

Jason’s eyes remain on the timer.

“Mommy, I love you. Thank you for everything.”

Eight Seconds.

“Don’t-”

Marinette’s voice cracked as she cried into her hands.

Seven Seconds.

“Please tell Dickie I love him and he was an amazing brother.”

Six Seconds.

“Don’t-Don’t say goodbye, this is goodbye Jason! You hear me! this isn’t goodbye.”

She finished her voice in a pained whisper.

Five Seconds.

“Tell Bruce he’s an asshole, but I loved him.”

Four Seconds.

“Tell Alfred I love him too.”

Jason was crying uncontrollably as he spoke.

Three Seconds.

“Mom?”

Two Seconds.

“Yes baby boy?”

One Second.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

Marinette stared at the casket, unable to console herself and stop the tears. Her baby boy was in there, her tough little bird. He was gone and she wasn’t there, she failed him. A mother is meant to protect, and she didn’t protect. She should’ve followed him to Ethiopia, she shouldn’t have let her feeling of hurt get the best of her. A sob fell from her lips as her shoulders shooking, her posture breaking as she curled in on herself. Her baby bird will never fly again, he will never read her poetry or discuss his favorite books with her again. No, now she’d have to visit him here, for the rest of her life. Now she’d have to talk to a gravestone every time she saw her baby bird.

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Red Hood Finds her.

He watched her for weeks ever since he had officially come back to Gotham. Watching her as Ladybug, Lady Noir, and Marinette, watching the woman he had called mother. The mother that had seemingly moved on from him, along with his so called Father and brother. He saw her spend countless nights with his replacement, she had never gone on patrol with him as much as she did with the new one. She, of course, didn’t realize she was being watched. Old age he supposed his once mother looked much older since the last time he saw her, before he died. Black hair now greying and everything so perhaps he could not fault her for not noticing.

This night was special though, for weeks she had been fighting him with the so-called Batfamily. Tonight, exactly three days after he shot the replacement, she would find out that he was her ‘Baby-bird’.

He watched as she picked up the phone, no doubt Bruce or Alfred, his amusement faded when tears began to fall. He always hated when she cried, she was always so happy and collected. She rarely cried and when she did it was so heart wrenching, because Marinette cried with her entire body. He watched as she dropped the phone and rushed to the balcony, he saw the small red and black Gods following her. Heard her voice crying out as she threw the doors open.

“Plagg, Claws out!” 

She transformed and was traveling across the rooftops in minutes. She was making her way towards Bludhaven only to be met halfway by Nightwing. Immediately breaking down into her eldests arms.

“It's him, it's him, it's him. It's my babybird! It’s my baby! It's my baby!” 

Her cries caused Red Hood to flinch as he turned his gaze away from the mourning mother. He took one last glance before turning away returning to his current safe house.

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Saving him from Himself.

“Don’t do this.” Her voice called out, it was calm as always yet filled with pain. She limped toward him holding her side tenderly in an attempt to stop the bleeding from her wound. “Don’t do this Baby boy.” Red Hood growled leveling the gun on her as he turned away from the downed third Robin. He froze the moment he saw Marinette, not Lady Noir, not Ladybug, but Marinette, his Marinette. Beaten, Bloody, and Bruised, all caused by him and his men. She didn’t even flinch at the gun pointed at her even though it was clear that her injury was a bullet wound.

“Shut up you fucking liar.” He growled out red tinting his vision once again as he thought of her protecting his replacement. Thought of all the videos of her with little Tim Drake, the newest Robin, all the pictures of her at school events. The actual adoption of not just him, but of her perfect first son. That one had hurt him the most, she had adopted them but not him.

“I am a liar.” She admitted softly continuing towards her son. Looking up at the young man, but always her babybird. “I am. I promised you that I’d always be with you, that I’d protect you. I failed you and I have blamed myself every day. I should’ve followed you, I should’ve found you, I should’ve protected you. But I failed you instead.” She stopped with the gun barely an inch away from her forehead, and for a second she marveled at how tall her baby was now compared to her. She wished she could see his face, see how handsome her beautiful boy had turned out. While Dick had grown into a beautiful young man, she knew her tough little bird would grow into a very handsome man. “You have every right to be angry with me, but not him. He looked up to you, still does, he pulled Bruce, Dick, and me out of the dark place we were in after your death. Not once did he wish to replace you, not once did he shy away from mentioning you. If you want to take your anger out on somebody, make it me.” She closed her blue bell eyes picturing her little red headed bird with his mischievous smile, and love for literature. Marinette leaned her head forehead allowing the barrel of his gun to press against her head. Her free hand shook as she reached out, caressing the red helmet with her knuckles. She opened her eyes again, tears staining to fall from the now dulled grayish blue. “Just remember I love you my little Fire-Cracker, though you’re not exactly little anymore are you.” She choked out holding back a sob as she let her hand drop her legs shaking from exhaustion. “If you’re going to kill us then take me first. Please I don’t think I can bear to watch another one of my birds die.” She barely finished before exhaustion caught up to her and she began to collapse. She didn’t hit the ground though, no she was pulled into strong arms. Arms that held her tightly cradling her and providing safety. Red Hood stared down at the woman in his arms, the red having long faded as tears fell hidden by the helmet. Jason Todd-Wayne held his hurt mother in his arms as he let himself cry.

“Stupid woman, Stupid Mom.” He whispered before moving her so that she laid beside her newest bird. “Don’t say a word you fucking replacment.” He growled out as said bird looked up at him in surprise. “You better fucking protect her or else I will kill you.” He growled glaring at the small shy smirk on the bird’s face.

“Watch your language, you know her thoughts on cussing.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Bruce’s Death.

Jason Todd-Wayne sat atop Wayne Enterprises staring down at the city he was born into. Bruce was gone, he was gone and Jason didn’t know what to think of it. Dick was taking up the cowl, making Bruce’s actual son his new Robin. Tim had taken over Wayne Enterprises, the youngest CEO in the world. Meanwhile here was Jason still legally dead, and estranged from the family. With no idea what to do with his life, he had slowly waned from killing doing the same with her men. They very rarely killed, only those that truly deserved it, but ever since that night since he cradled his mother’s broken form. He hasn’t seen the family, he only knew of Bruce’s death from the video he had sent to the family. He tensed as a body sat down beside him, curling into her jacket. 

“Hello Handsome Birdie.” She said softly reaching up and caressing his cheek. “I’ve missed you.” Jason grabbed her hand holding it gently and rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

“I’ve missed you too Mom.” He admitted softly both turning to look out at the city in silence together. “Is he really gone?” He asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Marinette leaned against her son allowing her eyes to drift to their held hands.

“Tim-Tim says he might not be and is trying to find him. Dick, my poor bird is hurting so much he is scared to hope that Bruce isn’t dead. Then there is Damian, oh he is going to be a tough Birdie to crack.” Jason smiled softly squeezing her hand.

“Well you managed to raise me, you'll have no problem with him.” He said jokingly, causing Marinette to laugh shaking her head.

“You didn't call me ‘Father’s newest whore’ and then immediately attempt to kill me.”

“He did want?!” 

Jason asked with a protective glare on his face as he turned to his mom.

“Oh hush Fire-Cracker, I’ll get through to him.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, The Outlaws.

Red Hood could feel her eyes on him and his two companions. The fact that they didn’t notice was both irritating yet caused a bit of pride to fill his chest for only his mom could hide so easily.

“Kori, Roy,” He called out, pulling his helmet off his mask soon following revealing Jason Todd-Wayne to the night sky. “We have a visitor.” He said, turning to look at the shadows where Lady Noir resided.

“Getting better every day aren’t you Jay-bird?” She finally announced her presence to her son’s friends. She knew the both of them Roy better than Kori, it had been Dick that introduced them. Before the split in their friendships, she hated having to comfort her bird of the loss of his older brother. Lady Noir wouldn’t let her hold it against him though, or hold it against Kori.

“Hello mom” Jason said affectionately as he walked over to Lady Noir. She smiled, dropping her transformation and allowing her son to pull her into a tight hug. Marinette reached up rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “Come to make sure, I’m not getting into too much trouble?” He asked, teasingly causing her to roll her eyes.

“No, I simply wanted to see how my son’s new team worked together. “ She combed his hair to the side gently with her fingers before grabbing his gloved hand in hers. “My birds rarely team up with others outside the family.” Jason glanced away a little nervous squeezing her hand gently.

“Well, what do you think? Of my small team here?” Marinette smiled softly glancing back at the two that had joined her son, before looking back to her son.

“I think you have found some very good friends Fire-Craker. They will care for you as you care for them.” She leaned up on her tiptoes, huffing slightly when Jason still had to lean down for her, and kissed her son’s cheek. “Be good to them and you shall have a strong team.” keep them safe. They will do the same for you, now run along my tough little bird.”

“I’m not little anymore.”

“Hush.”

“Yes Mom.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Returning to the Family.

Jason stuck his hand firmly in his pockets as he stared up at the manor. Marinette and Dick had both told him he should come for the holidays. If it had been just Duck he would have blown it off, but he’d hurt his mom too much in the past to do it to her. He didn’t want to go in, his relationship with Bruce was still incredibly rocky, and he really didn’t like the Demon brat. Though somehow his mom and older brother had both become rather fond of the brat. He shook his head and squared his shoulders walking towards the door, only to turn around and take the steps back down the stairs.

“I can’t do this.” He growled out kicking the snow glaring at it frustrated. “How can this be so hard! Just walk through the damn door, say hello to Alfred hand over your coat and then immediately find mom. Give her the stupid gift, then sneak out when the others distract her.” He said to himself, but he didn’t turn around he just continued to glare at the ground, his hands shaking slightly in his jacket pockets.

“Or, just putting this out there, you could turn around, walk through the door with me and spend Christmas with your family. A family which has been nervous to see if you’ll actually come tonight.” Marinette called out from her place on the steps behind him. Her cardigan wrapped tightly around her to chase away the cold. Jason turned slightly looking at her sheepishly until he realized she didn’t have a jacket on. “Personally I prefer my idea, way better than you sneaking away from us.” Jason glared slightly walking up to her as he unzipped his jacket.

“What are you doing out here with only a cardigan? I seem to remember you always complaining that I’d get sick if I didn’t wear a jacket!” He pulled his off wrapping it around Marinette holding back a snort over it reaching her knees. Marinette glared slightly as if knowing his thought process and turned up her nose indignantly huffing. “You’ll catch your death out here without a jacket Jason! Jason don’t forget your hat! Jason gloves are not uncool they make sure your fingers don’t get frostbite!” Jason said repeating all the phrases she had used on him when he was just twelve. Marinette reached out pinching his ear slightly causing him to wince, and pout at her, though he’d never admit it.

“I am your mother, young man. I have every right to make sure you wear proper attire for winter. And apparently I should have said it more as it appears, the only thing you were wearing is your jacket.” Jason rubbed his ear after she let go grumbling to himself about annoying mothers.

“Why did you come out here? How did you know I was here?” He finally asked before wrapping his arm around her shoulders walking her towards the door. He knew his mother never did good in the cold, a side effect of being the Champion of a Ladybug Goddess. Marinette huffed, shaking her head, giving him a pointed look.

“Timmy and I sat watching you stand outside for five minutes before he suggested I came and got you.” She smiled as Alfred opened the door for them. “That and Alfred had been standing at the door for a good ten minutes and I decided that ten minutes was enough.” Jason smiled apologetically at Alfred, hugging the elderly butler.

“Hi Alfred, I missed you.” He said softly, smiling brighter when the man hugged him back.

“And I you Master Jason, now come join the family. I shall take your coat from Mistress Marinette.”

Jason raised an eyebrow looking over at his mom who shook her head fondly.

“He insists that Bruce is going to marry me one day. It’s the only bit of denial I’ve seen him in, I shan’t mention it to him however.” She said with a mischievous smile, winging at her son. “Besides Bruce’s face when he brings it up is hilarious. Now come the boys are eager to see you.” She corrected herself after Jason’s pointed look. “Fine Tim and Dick are excited to see you. Damian doesn’t want to share me and Bruce can’t emotion so he hasn’t said it but he is thinking it.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Alive Again.

Jason paced his room in the manor mumbling to himself while Kori and Roy sat on his bed watching him. Today was the day, he had agreed to announce that he had survived the explosion all those years ago. They had even come up with a rather ingenious cover story on where he had been. Though that was most his replacement, the kid was wicked smart.

“I can’t do this.” He said turning to Kori and Roy with a pleading look, as he gripped his hair with his hands. “Kori, get me out of here, please.” He said softly though they could both hear the panic in his tone. Kori chuckled standing up and walking over to him. She gently pried his hands from his hair gesturing for Roy to grab the hair brush. 

“X’Hal, Jason, you are overthinking this, and panicking. You can do this, I know it for you are not weak. You know you want to do this, doing this means spending more time with them.Yes, yes that’s not why you are doing this.” She said rolling her eyes when he opened his mouth to argue. She took the hair brush Roy held out with a bright smile. “Jason, this is a most joyess occasion! After today you can spend more time with your K’norfka, and Roy and I know you want to go places with her more than anything.” Jason huffed letting her brush out his hair hold his face as she tilted his head side to side.

“She is not my nanny Kori, she’s my mother.” Kori pinned him with a look as she squeezed his cheeks gently leaning forward.

“On my planet K’norfka, also means guardian. Of which she is, correct?” Jason huffed before nodding his head.

“Yes, yes, you are correct.” Kori smirked triumphantly before kissing him briefly and releasing his face. “Roy and I will be here waiting for you when you are done. Isn’t that right?” Roy nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist, smirking at his boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Oh we will be here, but I don’t know. From the look on Miss Marinette’s face we won’t see you for a while.” Roy said nodding to the door, where Marinette stood watching them. She slowly made her way over to the trio.

“Mom! I can, I can explain. Roy, Star, and I-were-uh-were really good friends-well no we are actually-well.” He was silenced by Marinette’s hand on his cheek, causing him to finally meet her eyes. Understanding and love shining brightly in her eyes, as she rubbed his cheek with her thumb, marveling at her tough little bird all grown up.

“You couldn’t have picked anyone better Jay-bird. They have proved themselves remarkably well, and have shown their love for you my sweet bird. And that’s all that a mother can ask for in life, that their baby is happy and loved.” Jason teared up as he leaned down wrapping his mom into a tight hug hiding his face in her shoulder, causing the women to giggle. Marinette softly stroked his hair resting her cheek against his head. She looked over to the two her son had chosen her smile not wavering but Roy and Kori could read her eyes. Happiness, acceptance, and a little bit of love shining in them as she silently thanked her son’s precious people.

“Now, let’s go. It’s time for Jason Todd-Wayne to enter the world again. This time though I’ll finally get to adopt you.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, A Prince Consort?

Jason stared at himself in the mirror tugging on the traditional Tamaranean clothing. He still couldn’t believe this was happening, Kori wasn’t even the Queen anymore. Yet her, Roy, and him had all been carted away to her home planet by her brother. News had spread far of her proposal to the two, and her home planet wanted to witness the marriage. Only two months after they became engaged they were getting married, and his family wasn’t even there.

“Lost in thought, Birdie.” 

“Just thinking about how my mom is going to kill me-Mom?!” He turned quickly looking at his mother, dressed in a lavender purple dress, obviously of her own design, that held elements of the Tamaranean attire.

“Surprise.” She said softly with a twinkle in her eye as she walked over. “Oh look at you, my tough little bird is getting married.” She smoothed out his clothing, a tearful smile on her face. “Koriand’r had a feeling her brother would insist on this. So she made sure that the family would also be picked up, she also gave me a few different items of Tamaranean clothing, so that I could make my own clothing.” Jason smiled at the mention of his soon to be wife.

“She is amazing, her and Roy.” He whispered softly, a smile taking over his face. Marinette watched him as a single happy year fell from her face.

“Gosh, first Dickie and now you. Now I just need to have Timmy and Dami find someone that loves them unconditionally. Then I could die happily knowing my sons are loved.” 

“Don’t joke about that mom, you won’t be dying for a very long time.” Jason said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Besides demon brat find someone, please.” 

“Jason.” Marinette said with a warning note in her tone causing Jason to grin at her. Tikki coughed, finally gaining their attention.

“Oh not again. Tikki stop out shining me will you!”

Marinette said smiling playfully at her dear friend. Tikki smiled a twinkle in her eye as she shook her head.

“No I don’t think I will Mari!” She flew up kissing Jason on the forehead just like she had done a year ago for her bug’s first bird. “I grant you and your mates Good luck and Fortune in your future together. Cherish each other always, I am proud of you, even if you’re a troublesome bird.” Marinette smiled softly looking up at her second son, her tough bird, her Fire-Craker.

“I am proud of you too Jason. You’ve grown into such a handsome young man, and have found yourself the loves of your life. That’s all a mother can ask for in life.”

“How much are my brothers going to tease me over being a Prince Consort.”

“Oh so much, that we’re thinking of jokes on the way here. A little scary watching Timmy and Dami work together, but you know Dickie, he can bring anyone together.”

Jason snorted rolling his eyes, Plagg chose this moment to show himself grinning at Jason.

“So, you’re gonna be a Trophy Husband now kid?”

“Plagg!”

“Ow! Oh come on Sugar-cube! Ow!-It was a joke!”

@mythogaychic

[sharperthewriter]

Chapter 16 of the 16th Annual KP Fannies Awards

Chapter 16 – A Change in the Winds

(March 13, 2021, the Caribbean, 12:45pm)

Drew Lipsky stared at the massive, gift-wrapped package on his residential lair's doorstep, his teeth grinding as he observed the telltale red and black ribbon. He finally dropped his gaze to the accompanying postcard in his hand and read the messy scrawls on the back.

"Thought I'd share some of my supply, as I know you don't have the connections to acquire any once the stores run out. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything, neighbor!"

He flipped the card to the front and stared briefly at the custom-printed photo of the late middle-aged man wearing maroon swim trunks and an extremely out of place military helmet, his graying chest hair on full display while his arm was around a much younger woman clad in a hologram-silver crisscross halter bikini that was rather revealing at the lower part of the top. Both of the pair wore sunglasses and smug grins as they lounged on a beach.

"Drew? What's this?"

The former super-villain crumpled the card from Dementor and tossed it to the ground as his wife looked from the package to his face seething in anger. Sheila Lipsky stepped over to the doorstep and tore open the wrapping on the package, and the both of them blinked at what their arch-rival had sent them.

"Toilet paper," Drew said.

"Stop grinding your teeth!" Sheila said in annoyance, rolling her eyes and leaving the package to later be collected by a henchman, taking Drew's hand and dragging him back inside with her.

"Why didn't he stay in Greece!? He's never used his lair out here. He only bought it in the first place to irritate me!"

"Then stop letting it get to you, and maybe he'll leave," she countered as they returned to the living room.

A brief command given to an employee on the intercom saw that the toilet paper would be safely tucked away, and Sheila forced her husband down to the sofa where she soothed him first by running her hands through his hair, her fingernails gently raking his scalp, before she grabbed the TV remote and turned on the news for distraction.

"…And we repeat this urgent broadcast, that the Governor-General has ordered all citizens to stay in their homes unless conducting necessary or emergency affairs. A list of what constitutes 'necessary' and 'emergency' can be found on the government website, in addition to a list of businesses required to close for the next two weeks…"

Sheila looked at Drew, whose brow had risen in surprise. She snuggled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Guess we're not going to work for a while," she said, her tone suggestive.

Drew felt the heat under his collar and leaned his head against hers in response. But when she glanced up at his face, she could tell his mind was elsewhere.

"Cat got your tongue?" she teased, shifting to slide her knee over his so she sat across his lap, facing him. She set her hands on his shoulders. "Do I need to loosen it up for you?"

"Sheila," he interrupted, just before she could kiss him, "this is pretty serious."

She glanced over her shoulder at the TV and then shrugged, smirking as she moved toward his face again.

"If I were to run the numbers…this could be potentially the deadliest plague since the Spanish flu."

"Suddenly you're a microbiologist?" she teased again.

"It could wipe out millions of people!"

Sheila sat back and looked at him as he continued.

"And, haven't you found it strange that this has been worsening for months, and yet the organization we work for, Global Justice, seems to be trying to downplay it as nothing? All we've been called for lately are menial assignments!"

"They are boring, I'll admit," Sheila began, but Drew interrupted her.

"I'm going to call Director," he said decisively, stretching his arm across the sofa to grab the landline. "This is absurd."

Sheila waited as the phone rang, considering the facts. Until this past week, there hadn't seemed to be too much attention on the supposedly deadly virus. As for Global Justice, they had determined where the virus had originated and then seemingly dropped the case. Dementor had been shown to be innocent in terms of the accidental release of the plague, though he had clearly aided VILE in developing it. And the Bavarian lair's new owner, some chump going by Game Controller, had vanished not too long after the initial knowledge of the disease.

"I'm being transferred," Drew said impatiently, and Sheila raised a curious brow. A moment later Drew spoke into the phone. "Hello? Who is this? …Why can't I speak with Dr. Director? What, do you…don't you know who I am? Never-mind."

Drew hung up the phone with a scowl and pulled out his cell.

"What happened?"

"I got transferred to some no-name plebe who said Director is unavailable indefinitely," he said as he pressed the speed-dial to the boss's home number. It rang twice and then was answered. "Hello, Dr. Director? Yes… Oh."

Drew's brow furrowed and he met Sheila's eyes in a way that caused her to sit up straighter in attention. Especially when the pinch of his uni-brow rose upward as his forehead crinkled in worry.

"Yes…I understand…" he said into the phone, fixing wide eyes on Sheila. She gestured to him to put the call on speaker and he grimaced slightly. "Dr. Director— Sorry, can my wife listen in? Thank you."

"Shego," the voice through the phone greeted her with the now rarely-used name. "I was just explaining to your husband that I've contracted TEVID-20."

Sheila's eyes widened. "Oh."

"I feel like a knife is driving deeper into my back with each breath, and like an elephant is sitting on my chest."

Dr. Director's voice broke off into a devastating cough, and with a sinking feeling Sheila realized that her teasing of Drew mere minutes before seemed in poor taste. To her knowledge, their boss was the first person they actually knew to be ill with the disease. But that didn't mean that perhaps millions of people, as he had said, weren't suffering similarly.

"Are you receiving treatment?" she asked after a moment of pause.

"Some drugs that are showing to be effective, depending on who you talk to. But you know the political game is already being played around this."

Sheila rolled her eyes as Drew shook his head. One benefit of having been villains was they never had to bother with taking a side in anything above-board. As Global Justice agents, there was an implied rhetoric they were supposed to vomit out in regards to this sort of thing. It was one of many aspects of the legitimate lifestyle that Sheila disliked.

"Is this why you've not been pursuing that kid and trying to lock down VILE's virus lab?" Drew asked point blank of their boss.

Another series of coughs was the response through the phone, and then, "Drakken… Shego… I can't look into it."

"What are you talking about?" Sheila asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Global Justice can't get too involved. Like I said, the political game is being played…worldwide."

Sheila scoffed and leaned back from where she'd been embracing Drew's neck and crossed her arms. She didn't see the problem in tossing a dozen or more VILE and Henchco goons into prison for what Drew said could be devastating to the entire world. Surely agreement could be found in that. But before she could spew her frustrations, her husband was continuing.

"The medical labs aren't even studying it or working on treatments?"

"They are, but we're law-bound to the World Health Organization. There's only so much we'll be allowed to share, one way or the other."

It was Drew's turn to scowl, his teeth bared in frustration as on the TV beyond them graphs showing the count of cases and deaths reported was rotating for each country, the thick red line climbing almost exponentially for each day that had passed.

"Off the record...I'm as frustrated as you are Dr. Drakken."

"Why are you calling us that? We haven't gone by those names in years," Drew replied quizzically.

There was silence on the other end of the phone line, broken by a few coughs and then a painful inhale of breath.

"I wish I could do more in this pandemic. But in my…position…my hands are tied," Betty replied.

Sheila and Drew exchanged a look.

"I'm sure you have plenty to do in your enforced quarantine," she continued a moment later. "I hope we'll speak again. Goodbye Drew, Sheila."

The line went dead on another cough, and the colorful couple blinked at each other for a long moment, the only sound in the room the grave voice of the newscaster on the TV behind them.

"I know I'm not good on picking up subtleties…" Drew began, "but was she implying what I think she was?"

Sheila swallowed slowly and then set her hands back on her husband's shoulders, her fingers kneading the flesh while her expression became serious.

"Dr. D…."

"Bedroom nicknames on the sofa? Oh, goody!"

Sheila smirked at his teasing but continued. "Have you ever…missed the freedom of villainy?"

Drew's impish grin faded into thoughtfulness as he regarded her.

"It would be horribly ironic to shirk our good names only to save the world…again."

Sheila glanced at the TV behind them, and then looked back into his eyes. "It's gonna be that serious?"

He nodded gravely, and this time she didn't tease him.

"And you really think you can do it? Find a cure?" she continued.

He was silent a long moment, and then he sighed. "I couldn't live with myself thinking it was possible, and I didn't try."

Sheila nestled against him again, smiling when this time his arms encircled her. She tilted her head to the side and kissed his jaw. And then familiar, dark look flitted through Drew's eyes.

"No one and nothing takes over this world but me."

Sheila's smile grew and her heart thudded within her chest.

"It might drive Dementor out of retirement in jealousy."

Drew gave a brief chuckle and stroked his chin thoughtfully. Sheila inhaled and spoke bravely.

"So what do you say...Dr. Drakken?"

He kissed her soundly before giving her a devilish grin.

"I think it's time we give our 'employees' their henchmen uniforms back, Shego."

A/N: Note for future chapters: the name of character 'Glame Dover' has been changed to 'Graeme Dover.' Past chapters have been adjusted accordingly.

[cecilspeaks]

176 - The Autumn Specter

Lips are the toes of the face. Welcome to Night Vale.

[spooky theme song]

It’s Halloween again, Night Vale, my favorite day of the year. As a kid, my mother used to dress my sister Abby and I in homemade costumes and take us door to door, vaguely threatening our neighbors until they gave us candy. When I was a teenager, I got a little old for trick-or-treating, so I started going to haunted houses with my friends. A lot of those haunted houses were kind of predictable with all their chain saw killers and Victorian ghost children singing nursery rhymes, who would follow you home and sing by your bed for months afterwards, but they always got to me. I loved the emotional rush of being scared. I still do. Of course, I don’t go out much to haunted houses, but I still love good old fashioned scary stories. I thought today would be a great day to share some of my favorites with you. I had my new intern, James, put together a few spooky tales that are perfect for putting you into Halloween mood.

But first, let’s have a look at the Community Calendar. This Saturday night at the New Old Night Vale Opera House, is the annual costume gala. This event is the Opera House’s largest fundraiser and one of the most prestigious costume contests in the region. A panel of judges will be on hand to determine the best costume at the ball. Last year’s winners were Joel Eisenberg and his partner Danny Jimenez, who dressed in a tandem outfit of a stegosaurus. I was there, listeners, and it was impressive! The creature was so realistic-looking. The craftsmanship of the costume was top notch, but listen, I have to confess I’m always more into high concept creativity rather than realistic details when it comes to costumes. Like I remember the 2015 gala, when Amal Shamun came dressed up as the concept of ennui. She made herself 12 feet tall, dressed in a taupe long coat, and created a constant drizzling rain inside the ball room. Anyone who looked at her got super sad and wanted a hug. But Joel and Danny’s stegosaurus was fine.

Sunday afternoon is the fall craft sale in Old Town Night Vale. An inscrutable maze of stalls showcasing the finest products from our town’s artisans. There will be cultural events for children, like finger painting classes, puppet shows, and a visit from the Autumn Specter. The Autumn Specter returns. It comes to collect its crops, with its great and sharp sickle. [creepily] It will harvest every ripe soul in Night Vale, the Autumn Specter is hungryyyy! It is Octoberr and it is timme to feeeeeee-duh.

Hey James, this Community Calendar doesn’t seem right, it’s just a bunch of stuff about the Autumn Specter. Also this font size, what-what is this 32 point? That’s just much too large. And it’s printed in red ink and that is a waste of our color toner, James. Eww, eww! This red ink is still really damp. OK, plus there’s nothing about start and end times of the craft fair, or anything about the food trucks, like if the Autumn Specter is hungry, surely it wants some falafel or Korean barbeque or tacos. James, could you just redo this story? James? James? [clears throat] Well, listeners, I don’t know where James went. Um, I can hear him breathing, but I don’t see him anywhere. Yeah, it’s fine, let’s just get onto our first spooky story.

[static, old-fashioned music] One quiet moonless night, not long ago and not so far away, a teenage girl sat in a house that was not her own. It was the home of Tony and Sheila McDowell. The girl was their babysitter, and she had just put the two young McDowell children down to sleep. The girl watched TV alone in the dark living room, only the bluish flicker of a scary movie illuminating her face. The phone rang abrupt and loud, startling her. She raised the receiver to her ear. “Hello?” she said with a slight quiver. “Have you checked on the children?” came a raspy voice. The babysitter ran quickly upstairs, opening the door of the kids’ bedroom. She flicked on the light, and there they were, fast asleep. She went back to her movie, but the phone rang again. “Haave youuu checked on the childrennn?” came the same voice, only more sinister. The babysitter again hurried upstairs, opened the door, turned on the light, and saw the children still asleep. The caller called again and again and again. “Have you checked on the children?” The babysitter, so scared, barely able to move, hung up the phone before the voice could finish its repeated query. When the phone rang once again, she answered and shouted: “Stop calling me!” But this time, it was a different voice. The person on this occasion said: “Ma’am, this is the police. We’ve traced the call. The call is coming from inside the house. Get out, get out!” The babysitter panicked and started to run, but then she remembered: she never called the police! How would they know to even trace the call? So she crept fearfully upstairs to the children’s room, and the phone was ringing again, the clamoring bell igniting her fright. And she cracked open the door and she saw- She saw the young McDowell boy and his little brother hunched over a phone and giggling! They were pranking her, and she felt relieved but embarrassed. And she told them to stop fooling around and go to sleep. And they all shared a good laugh.

Let’s have a look now at traffic. [papers rustling] Um.. OK, well I don’t seem to have a traffic report from intern James. Also James isn’t here right now, because I sent him out to go pick up lunch a few m- Oh, hey James, James, James, James – wait, why are you standing in the control booth? You were supposed to go get lunch and also I’ve asked you a couple of times not to wear that burlap bag over your head. I mean yes it looks great, with the Jack o’ Lantern face drawn onto it, I mean the mouth is a bit lopsided and the eyes are a tad uneven,  you know kinda flat and emotionless, but all in all it’s a cool look, but it’s decidedly not allowed in Station Management’s dress code. Oh, you’re holing a knife, too! So did you get- did you already get that lunch then? Well if that- if that’s the case, you don’t need to cut my sandwich in half, I’ll-I’ll take it whole. And also I need that traffic report, thanks. James? What are you waiting for, the Autumn Specter to do it for you? [chuckles] Hop to it! James?

[clears throat] Well, while James is working on that, let’s get back to my favorite spooky Halloween stories. This one isn’t a story so much as a fun Halloween game. The legend of Bloody Mary.

According to the lore, if you turn off all the lights, and stare into a mirror, repeating “Bloody Mary” three times in a row, she will appear and tear your face off! I’ve never tried this because I don’t own any mirrors, but my husband Carlos conducted this very experiment in his science lab. He said he darkened the room and repeated the name and nothing happened for a long time. But then a figure of a woman appeared, silvery gray and shimmering, and she approached Carlos slowly, her hollow white eyes never blinking. She brought her face only inches from Carlos and said: “Are you for real?” And Carlos said yes, he was indeed – real. And Bloody Mary said: “OK because this time of year, I just get a bunch of giggling, screaming teenagers, and I’m really tired of ripping off their faces for no pay whatsoever!” And Carlos gave her some resources for starting a union and she thanked him and she offered to tear his face off in exchange for the consulting, but Carlos said no, he liked his face, and wisher her luck. Night Vale, pay your malevolent spirits! They’re overworked especially around Halloween. And a 20 per cent gratuity for poltergeists, phantasms, revenants, and ghosts is standard.

And now for t- what the, oh you- [papers rustling] Wait, OK. You know, I thought intern James had handed the traffic report to me, but this is just a piece of parchment with a 9-pointed star seemingly drawn by a finger dripped in blood. And then there are a series of ancient runes scrawled around the outer edges. Now I took runic in college. I mean, most of my friends took Spanish as their language, but I thought living here in the American Southwest, it would be more useful to study ancient Scandinavian and Germanic alphabets. And from what I can make out, these are a message about the return of the Autumn Specter. Ugh, alright. OK. I love that intern James loooves Halloween and whatever this the Autumn Specter is. In fact, James is still in the break room right now construction a sacred totem out of ash tree branches and twine. He’s been muttering to himself all day in a language that I don’t recognize, and the only words I can understand are “Autumn Specter”. But I still have neither my traffic report nor my lunch! Wait, do you think James is… Naah, put it out or you mind, Cecil.

Let’s tell another spooky Halloween story. There once was a beautiful young woman who wore a green ribbon around her neck. She won the affection of a handsome young man. They fell in love and one day the boy asked the girl why she always wore a green ribbon around her neck. She would not tell him. One day the man and the woman were to become husband and wife. In her white bridal dress, the woman still wore her green ribbon. The man asked her on their wedding night if he could untie the green ribbon, but even on the  most intimate of evenings, she said no, and he respected her answer. But he longed to know what she was hiding behind the ribbon. Through the years, the man asked the wife again about the ribbon, but she never removed it, nor answered his questions about it. She only warned him that he would not like what he saw if she were to remove it. He asked less and less, but his curiosity grew and grew. And they became old, very old, and they knew their time left was short. The man asked one more time: “My dearest wife, love of my life, tell me that I may remove the green ribbon from around your neck.” And the old woman said: “My adoring groom, here in our room after all these many years, yes you may. But I caution you, as I have many times before, that you shall not like what your eyes behold.” The man hesitated, but finally reached his weakened, wrinkled fingers to the green bow along her nape. And he tentatively pulled the ribbon, and suddenly it unfurled, falling from her neck, and the man gasped. Upon her neck was a series of ornate letters spelling out “GOTH LIFE”. The woman said: “I got this tattoo in high school but kind of outgrew it and it’s super embarrassing.” And the man replied: “It is for sure weird, but also pretty cool. I like it.” And she never wore the green ribbon again.

You know, listeners, I’d love to bring you that traffic report, but right now, um, I’m facing something much more urgent and more dire. My studio door has opened on its own, and as I turned around, I could see down the long faintly lit corridor of our offices. And at the end of the hallway stands a figure, and he wears a Jack o’ Lantern mask, his head crooked to one side like a dog asking a question or like a hanged man, or both. And it is intern James, and he holds a long knife and he walks, he walks slowly toward me. And he is speaking at first in a mutter, but now louder, a strange shout in an obscure tongue like a magician casting a wicked spell, and he is moving much faster toward me, like a limping run, and his blade is raised high, and James is not an intern, Night Vale, bu the Autumn Specter itself come to reap my soul!

But before he does that, Let me take you to the weather.

[“Welterweight” by Nels Andrews. https://nelsandrews.bandcamp.com/]

So. During the weather, I went to human resources and requested a file on intern James. Oh I’m fine, by the way, and James is not the Autumn Specter, but I’ll get to that. So I found a copy of James’ résumé and cover letter for the position of radio station intern. His application was originally submitted in 1845. “That’s almost two centuries ago!” I exclaimed, but according to HR, they’re pretty backlogged on the intern apps. “What are you gonna do, we get to them when we get to them,” they said from the bottom of their abandoned well. Paperclipped to James’ application was a wrinkled and yellowed news clipping from the Night Vale °Daily Journal, and the article says that James died on Halloween night in 1849 when he was hit by a train. I then went to the hall of public records and found that our radio station was built in 1950, atop the very train tracks where James met hi send. James’ soul has been wandering the halls and offices of our radio station ever since. For all James ever wanted was to be a radio intern. To serve the listening community, to lift high the voice of journalistic truth. And it was his death that led to the shutdown of those train tracks and the eventual construction of a new station home, and the building we still use now. So I was wrong about James. He was an intern, after all, and not a malevolent Halloween spirit.

But I was right that the Autumn Specter had come for me. For when I turned to see James running down the hill, I did not notice the Autumn Specter behind me, with its bony hands and scarecrow mouth, and I did not notice its soul reaping sickle, which it had raised high above its oversized head and stick thin body. And James had given his life for the building of our radio station, and in death, gave his soul for the very same cause. And James threw himself upon the Autumn Specter, and he tried to stab the Specter’s neck and chest, but it-it- it did nothing. And the Spectre pushed James aside and then turned its black coal eyes upon me. And it raised its curved blade once again and swung! I tried to duck, but was too slow. And just as the sickle’s edge reached my face, James dove in front of it and vanished in a burst of white flame, as he was struck. And the room was empty and the Autumn Specter was gone too.

To the family and friends of intern James, he was… an OK intern. Not always on  top of his writing deadlines, but he literally sacrificed his soul for our radio station. I can’t bring you a traffic report today, but I will live to bring you one tomorrow.  If we find a new intern. And HR tells me that we have hundreds of candidates, although  most of them are not yet aware that they are candidates.

Stay tuned next for our new cooking competition show, “Flay Bobby Flay”.

And as always, Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: The road to hell is paved with cobblestone. It’s super bumpy, not at all comfortable, and really bad for your car’s suspension.

[guiltiest-gear]

It has to be written and NO links

Real picky you know that anon

Jonathan Joestar, Dio Brando, Wang Chan, Robert E. O. Speedwagon, Will A. Zeppeli, Straizo, Erina Pendleton, Poco, George Joestar I, Tonpetty, Dire, Jack the Ripper, Tarkus, Bruford, Dario Brando, Joseph Joestar, Rudol von Stroheim, Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, Kars, Esidisi, Wamuu, Santana, Lisa Lisa, Suzi Q, Messina, Loggins, Erina Joestar, Smokey Brown, Donovan, Wired Beck, Mark, Mario Zeppeli, George Joestar II, Jotaro Kujo, Mohammed Avdol, Noriaki Kakyoin, Jean Pierre Polnareff, Iggy, DIO, Hol Horse, Enya the Hag (Enya Geil), Anne, Vanilla Ice, Nukesaku, Daniel J. D’Arby, Pet Shop, N’Doul, Mariah, Alessi, Oingo, Boingo, Anubis, Telence T. D’Arby, Kenny G., Gray Fly, Impostor Captain Tennille, Forever, Devo, Rubber Soul, J. Geil, Nena, ZZ, Steely Dan, Arabia Fats, Mannish Boy, Cameo, Midler, Chaka, Khan, Josuke Higashikata, Yoshikage Kira, Koichi Hirose, Okuyasu Nijimura, Rohan Kishibe, Hayato Kawajiri, Reimi Sugimoto, Shigechi Yangu, Mikitaka Hazekura, Yukako Yamagishi, Yuya Fungami, Tamami Kobayashi, Toshikazu Hazamada, Tonio Trussardi, Aya Tsuji, Tomoko Higashikata, Ryohei Higashikata, Shinobu Kawajiri, Ninjimura’s Father, Yoshihiro Kira, Tama, Keicho Nijimura, Akira Otoishi, Anjuro Karagiri, Ken Oyanagi, Terunosuke Miyamoto, Masazo Kinoto, Giorno Giovanna, Diavolo, Bruno Bucciarati, Leone Abbacchio, Guido Mista, Pannacotta Fugo, Narancia Ghirga, Trish Una, Risotto Nero, Formaggio, Illuso, Prosciutto, Pesci, Melone, Ghiaccio, Sorbet, Gelato, Coco Jumbo, Pericolo, Vinegar Doppio, Squalo, Tiziano, Carne, Cioccolata, Secco, Polpo, Mario Zucchero, Sale, Scolippi, Jolyne Cujoh, Enrico Pucci, Hermes Costello, Weather Report, Narciso Anasui, Foo Fighters, Gwess, Irene, Annakiss, Donatello Versus, Rikiel, Ungalo, The Green Baby, Johngalli A, Sports Maxx, Miuccia Miuller, Lang Rangler, Kenzou, D an G, Guccio, Viviano Westwood, Thunder McQueen, Romeo Jisso, Perla Pucci, Loccobarocco, Gloria Costello, Johnny Joestar, Funny Valentine, Diego Brando, Gyro Zeppeli, Steven Steel, Hot Pants, Mountain Tim, Wekapipo, Pocoloco, Norisuke Higashikata I, Blackmore, Mike O., Ringo Roadagain, Axl RO, Magent Megent, Dr. Ferdinand, D-I-S-C-O, Eleven Men, Pork Pie Hat Kid, Alternate Diego Brando, Sandman, Banjamin Boom Boom, Andre Boom Boom, L. A. Boom Boom, Mrs. Robinson, Oyecomova, Sugar Mountain, Scarlet Valentine, Jesus, Gregorio Zeppeli, George Joestar I, Nicholas Joestar, Diego Brano’s Mother, Marco, Josuke Higashikata, Yasuho Hirose, Rai Mamezuku, Tooru, Joshu Higashikata, Tsurugi Higashikata, Norisuke Higashikata IV, Daiya Higashikata, Hato Higashikata, Jobin Higashikata, Mitsuba Higashikata, Kaato Higashikata, Kyo Nijumura, Josefumi Kujo, Karera Sakunami, Holy Joestar-Kira, Tamaki Damo, Yotsuyu Yagiyama, Aisho Dainenjiyama, A. Phex Brothers, Dolomite, Urban Guerrilla, Doremifasolati Do, Poor Tim, Hair Clip Rock Animal, Wu Tomoki, Satoru Akefu, Ojiro Sasame, Suzuyo Hirose, Mioru Kaigamori, Kyoka Izumi, Nanase Kishibe, Rohan’s Grandma, Noguchi, Pierre, Gaucher, Ikkyu, Naoko Osata, Gunpei Kamafusa, Mutsukabezaka, Shuichi, Mai Katahira, Mao Katahira, Obanazawa, Tomoya, Yoma Hashimoto, Miki Hayamura, Mochizuki Family, Moon Rabbit, Virgina, Dolce, Masago Ayashi, Unicorn, Nizaemon Yamamura, Female Monk, Yamaoka, Interpreter, Leather Goods Artisan, Fria Giannini, Rocky, Yoshiki, Wanted Man, Confessional Man, Servant, Asian Man, Obese Man, Michal Absalom, The Scribe Ani, Takuma Hasumi, Chiho Futaba, Akari Hirai, Hanae Orikasa, Sheila E, Cannolo Murolo, Massimo Volpe, Vladimir Kocaqi, Vittorio Cataldi, Angelica Attanasio, Heaven Ascension DIO, Stand User, Old Man Stand User, Dija Maker, Ikuro Hashizawa, Sumire, and Walken

Star Platinum, Magician’s Red, Hermit Purple, Hierophant Green, Silver Chariot, The Fool, The World, Tower of Gray, Dark Blue Moon, Strength, Ebony Devil, Yellow Temperance, Hanged Man, Emperor, Empress, Wheel of Fortune, Justice, Lovers, Sun, Death Thirteen, Judgement, High Priestess, Geb, Khnum, Tohth, Anubis, Baset, Sethan, Osiris, Horus, Atum, Tenore Sax, Cream, Holy’s Stand, Joestar Stand, Crazy Diamond, The Hand, Echoes, Heaven’s Door, Love Deluxe, Harvest, Killer Queen, Sheer Heart Attack, Bites the Dust, Aqua Necklace, Bad Company, Red Hot Chili Pepper, The Lock, Surface, Pearl Jam, Achtung Baby, Ratt, Cinderella, Atom Heart Father, Boy II Man, Earth Wind and Fire, Highway Star, Stray Cat, Super Fly, Enigma, Cheap Trick, Nijimura’s Father’s Stand, Gold Experience, Sticky Fingers, Moody Blues, Sex Pistols, Aerosmith, Purple Haze, Spice Girl, Chariot Requiem, Gold Experience Requiem, King Crimson, Black Sabbath, Soft Machine, Kraft Work, Little Feet, Man in the Mirror, Mr. President, Beach Boy, The Grateful Dead, Baby Face, White Album, Clash, Talking Head, Notorious B.I.G., Metalica, Green Day, Oasis, Rolling Stones, Sorbet & Gelato’s Stands, Resource Worker’s Stand, Stone Free, Kiss, Burning Down the House, Foo Fighters, Diver Down, Weather Report, Whitesnake, C-Moon, Made in Heaven, Goo Goo Dolls, Manhattan Transder, Highway to Hell, Marilyn Manso, Jumpin’ Jack Flash, Limp Bizkit, Survivor, Planet Waves, Dragon’s Dream, Yo-Yo Ma, Green Green Grass of Home, Jail House Lock, Bohemian Rhapsody, Sky High, Under World, Boiling Water Stand, Emporio’s Mother’s Stand, Stand Collection, Tusk, Ball Breaker, Oh! Lonesome Me, Scary Monsters, Cream Starter, Ticket to Ride, Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, D4C Love Train, In a Silent Way, Hey Ya!, Tomb of the Boom 1 2 3, Boku no Rhythm wo Kiitekure, Wired, Mandom, Catch the Rainbow, Sugar Mountain, Tatoo You!, Tubular Bells, 20th Century Boy, Civil War, Chocolate Disco, THE WORLD, Emerald Searcher’s Stand, Soft & Wet, Paisley Park, Nut King Call, Paper Moon King, King Nothing, Speed King, Fun Fun Fun, California King Bed, Born This Way, Les Feuilles, I Am a Rock, Doobie Wah!, Love Love Deluxe, Schott Key No. 1, Schott Key No. 2, Vitamin C, Walking Heart, Milagro Man, Blue Hawaii, Doggy Style, Brain Storm, Ozon Baby, Doctor Wu, Awaking III Leaves, Wonder of U, Kaato’s Stand, Dark Mirage, Satanic Coupler, Ptah, The Book, Memory of Jet, The Cure, Public Image Limited, Joy Division, Purple Haze Distortion, Voodoo Child, All Along Watchtower, Manic Depression, Rainy Day Dream Away, Dolly Dagger, Night Bird Flying, U-Boat, Grand Blue, NYPD Blue, Blue Thunder, The Passion, Cube House, Arro Cross House, Videodrome, The Iron Ladies, Stepmom, Rear Windo, Singing in the Rain, Stray Dog, Face/Off, Blob, Evil Dead, Twister, Fugo’s Stand, Doppio’s Stand, The World Ultimate, Ultimate D4C, U-Boat Ultimate, Whitesnake Utimate, C-Moon Ultimate Requiem, Made in Heaven Ultimate Requiem, Molting, Coulrophobia, Dream Manipulation, Wings, Dune, Dune Ultimate, The Trinity, Stand User’s Stand, Strange Relation, Charmy Green, Kaoru’s Stand, Love Note, Gigant Stomach, Gucci Bag Stand, Remote Distance, Berry Berry Skull, Assy the Horse, The World Over Heaven, JoJosapiens, and The Shelter

[ft-dads-au]

Spellbound - Chapter 3

A collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​

AO3 | Prev: Ch 2

Chapter 3

October 14, 2012

Ever since Sting had accepted his impulsive invitation to study for the upcoming midterms at his house, Rogue had felt like time had slowed to a crawl. Not even his gig in Clover the previous evening had done anything to curb that feeling. And now that the time had finally come, all his excitement seemed to have turned into an insecurity he wasn’t familiar with. 

He knew that most of their time together would be spent studying for exams, but he couldn’t help the hope that something more might develop in the moments in between. It certainly didn’t hurt to make an effort. But what if his neatness drove Sting crazy? Or he managed to insult him somehow? Or Gods, what if he’d been reading the signals all wrong, and he ended up throwing himself at the guy only to find he wasn’t interested? He’d had plenty of chances to kiss him and had taken exactly zero of them.

He’d worked himself up the whole drive down to the University.

By the time Sting got into the car, Rogue was a tangle of nerves. They spent the ride home discussing which midterms they would be studying for and agreeing to relax for the remainder of the day before they got started. While the thought of starting off their week together with a lazy Sunday was precisely the type of thing he’d been hoping for, it also put pressure on him to have everything go right.

“Thanks again for letting me stay,” Sting huffed as he carried his duffel bag and oversized, filled to the brim backpack into the house, refusing Rogue’s offer to help.

“Yeah, no problem,” Rogue tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. Feeling suddenly shy and not wanting to show it, he led Sting to Gray’s old room so he could drop off his stuff.

Sting followed him, dumping his bags unceremoniously on the bed and looking around with curious eyes. “That’s your brother, right?” Sting asked, pointing at a family picture that was hanging on the wall. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

“You probably have. He’s been working as a model for a few years now.”

“He looks a lot like your dad,” Sting remarked before shifting his scrutiny to the collection of medals and trophies Gray had accumulated since he’d first started playing hockey.

“How about you? Do you have any siblings?” Rogue asked, scrambling for any conversation topic that might ease him out of his timidity.

“Nah, it’s just me. So, do you play too?” Sting eyed him with interest.

“For fun, but you won’t find any trophies in my room. That was Gray’s thing.” Rogue chuckled, “I just like to skate.”

When he was younger, he’d considered giving competitive figure skating a go. His dad had even supported the idea, spending hours building a rink in the backyard together with him and Gray so he wouldn’t have to drive them to the local one as often. It had been grueling work to get the hang of the moves, and while Rogue had been good at it, he’d eventually discovered things he loved more.

“I do have a nice keepsake from my hockey days, though,” he grinned, rubbing his finger over the scar that crossed the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, wow! That must have hurt,” Sting moved closer to examine his nose, wrapping him in the smell of that enticing cologne of which Rogue still hadn’t discovered the name. “Yeah...” Rogue answered absently, paying more attention to the way Sting’s lips moved when he spoke than he did to the words that came out. They were temptingly close. All he had to do was lean over and kiss them, but just when he’d been about to close the remaining gap between them, Sting had already moved away.

“Hey, you got anything to eat around here?” Sting asked, leaving Rogue to stare at him in confusion.

“Oh, right,” he blinked himself back to reality, “I put off grocery shopping until you got here, wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Oh, that’s great! I’ve only been to the convenience store near the dorm. I can’t wait to see what a big Magnolian grocery store has to offer!”

“Well, at least one of us is excited,” Rogue muttered, amused at fielding question after question on a place he usually tried to avoid. It gave him an idea, though. That adage about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach could work to his advantage here.

True, he couldn’t cook worth a damn, but surely there must be something he could pull off to impress Sting. 0-0

The trip to the grocery store was certainly memorable. Sting had walked through every single aisle, oohing and aahing over items he’d never tried and piling them into their cart. Rogue had finally given up and gotten his own cart, not finding it in his heart to dampen Sting’s enthusiasm.

They’d also gotten plenty of looks from other shoppers, which Rogue had done his best to ignore. He hadn’t come up with any great ideas for dinner. Everything he’d considered seemed so involved. That was until he walked past the lobster tank and remembered how disappointed Sting had been when he hadn’t gotten to eat ”Sheldon” at that seafood restaurant.

He was pretty sure you just chucked the things into a pot of boiling water. Sounded easy enough to him. Feeling pleased with his choice, he studied the tank’s contents, searching for the two largest lobsters he could find, knowing both of them ate a lot.

Once he’d identified the ones he wanted, he went off in search of an employee.

0-0

Rogue had managed to keep the contents of the cooler a secret. It wasn’t all that difficult considering the amount of bags in the trunk. He was more concerned about where they were going to store all the food they’d bought. At least it was cold enough that they could leave the drinks out on the porch.

Not that he should have worried, Sting kept picking items out of the bags and shoving them in his mouth, making pleased noises that were driving Rogue crazy.

“Mhmmmmmm, these are amazing! Want some?” Sting waved a bag of onion-flavored rings under his nose.

Rogue grabbed a couple, realizing he hadn’t had them for years. “Oh man, I used to love these. I didn’t know they still made them.”

Sting finally noticed the cooler when it moved slightly from its perch on the counter. “What’s in there?”

“Oh, that?” Rogue replied evenly, feigning indifference, “Just something I picked up. I thought I might try cooking dinner tonight.”

Sting arched an eyebrow and promptly removed the lid, peering in at the contents. “You got lobsters?”

“Yeah, it seemed like you liked them,” Rogue shrugged, finding spots for the rest of the groceries.

“I do! My mom makes really good Lobster Thermidor.”

Well, fuck. What the hell was lobster...whatever Sting said? It sounded a lot fancier than Rogue’s idea of boiling the shits like a pack of instant-ramen, not to mention the fact that he’d set himself up to compete against Sting’s mother’s cooking. He didn’t know a thing about the woman, but he’d bet his life that she was a better cook than he was.

“Those are big fellas. Oh, wait,” Sting had picked up one of the lobsters to examine it, “I think this one might be a Sheila.”

“How can you tell?”

“Oh, uhm,” Sting chuckled, sounding embarrassed, “when I was younger, I wanted to be a marine biologist. My parents would take me to the aquarium whenever they could, and I learned a lot. Pretty lame, huh?”

“Not at all. I mean, if you want to talk lame, I wanted to be a figure skater at one point,” he confessed, encouraged by Sting sharing that with him. “So which one's Sheldon and which one's Sheila?”

Rogue listened with interest as Sting pointed at the tails’ subtle differences and revealed what they meant. Once the explanation was over, Sting glanced at the pot that sat on the stove.

“You’re going to need a larger pot to boil these.”

“Right.” Challenge number one, where the heck did his mom keep the big pots? Rogue opened the cabinets, searching for anything bigger than the one he used to boil pasta.

“I’ll be right back,” he went to the basement, remembering his mother sometimes sent him there to find appliances she didn’t use all the time, and heaving a sigh of relief when he saw a pot big enough to bathe in. Okay, maybe not quite that big, but it should be enough for two lobsters.

And while he was down there, he took the opportunity to do a quick google search on how to cook lobster thermostat. Thermidor. Whatever. It turned out that it would involve cooking as well as broiling, which was even worse than he’d imagined, and the long list of ingredients wasn’t exactly reassuring either. But it was that list that turned out to be his saving grace, as he was sure he didn’t have everything on it. Oh no, such a shame, he smirked to himself as he continued to look for a less intimidating lobster recipe.

“Everything okay down there?”

Crap!

“Yeah, found one,” Rogue called out, putting his phone away and lugging his discovery up the stairs.

He’d washed the pot, filling it with water and as much salt as he dared, and then setting it on the stove to boil. They’d talked about watching a movie after dinner, and Sting had left him in the kitchen while he’d gone to Gray’s room, determined to set up his work area, as he called it, for the next day.

And now, Rogue found himself facing his next challenge. Once the water had come to a rolling boil, he’d grabbed one of the lobsters, ready to plunge it into the pot, when he’d made one fatal mistake. He’d looked into its eyes.

No matter how much he told himself that the thing wasn’t intelligent, he just couldn’t find it in himself to kill it. And as he stared into the eyes of the crustacean he’d condemned to death, Rogue couldn’t help but think of how much simpler his life had been before he’d decided he wanted something more from his relationships.

“What are you doing?”

There was no mistaking the amusement in Sting’s voice, and it both irritated and humiliated him. It had been his bright idea to do this, and he couldn’t even go through with it.

‘“It was staring at me,” he murmured.

Sting chuckled but took pity on him, “Here, I’ll do it.”

He grabbed the lobster and asked for some scissors. He snipped the bands off its claws and lowered it into the pot carefully, repeating the procedure with the second one before placing the lid on the pot. There was an awful noise that followed, making it sound like the lobsters were screaming.

Rogue shuddered.

“Relax, it’s not what it sounds like,” Sting assured him, “Lobsters don’t have lungs or even vocal cords. It’s just air escaping through their shells.” “Whatever. The damn things better taste good,” Rogue pouted, still displeased by the way his plan was failing so far. But hey, the lobsters were boiling away now, and he’d found a cooking time table online, so there wasn’t much that could go wrong from here. “I guess that depends on the sauce or seasoning.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. His face must have mirrored his frustration because once again, he heard the sound of Sting’s laughter. “It doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Oh, actually! We got mac and cheese, right?”

“Mac and cheese? With lobster?”

“Yeah! My mom used to make that for me when I was little. Well, she made it from scratch,” Sting admitted, “but this will be good too!”

By this point, Rogue just wanted to be done with the whole thing, so the idea of at least being able to make something he knew he couldn’t fuck up cheered him immensely. He walked over to the pantry and moved stuff around until he’d found the family size box of mac and cheese they’d bought and set about preparing it.

The timer went off, and he watched as Sting used tongs to take out the lobsters, which had turned a promising shade of bright red. He lay them on a cutting board and let them sit while he searched for a knife.

Rogue turned away as the sounds of Sting removing the meat from the shell revolted him. He busied himself with his task, trying not to think about what was happening.

“Do I have to do anything differently?”

“Nope, just let me know when it’s ready.”

Sting walked to the porch, grabbed two beers, opened them, and handed one over to Rogue, that amused smirk never far from his face. Once the mac and cheese was done, all they had to do was add the lobster meat, top it off with some breadcrumbs, and put it in the oven for a few minutes. In the meantime, Rogue began the process of cleaning the kitchen, pulling a face as he dumped the hollowed out shells in the trash bin and wiped the lobster juices off the counter. Although it wasn’t all that fancy, the dish that came out looked better than any of Rogue’s previous attempts to cook his own food. Not that he felt he had much to be proud of, as he’d mostly just boiled water and made instant mac and cheese, but cooking was definitely a lot less frustrating when he didn’t have to do it alone. Maybe they could cook together again sometime this week, preferably with food that couldn’t scream, move or stare at him. They settled on the couch, and while Rogue was browsing through Netflix, looking for a movie they could watch, he could tell by the moaning sounds that Sting had already dug into his food. “It’s good!” he said with his mouth still half full, “but you know what the best part is?” “Hm?” Rogue took a hesitant first bite, and he had to agree it did taste a lot better than he’d expected. “It’s that from now on, every time I eat lobster, I’ll remember your look of horror.” Sting dissolved into giggles, “I should have taken a picture!”

Rogue tried to glare, but now that it was over, he found himself laughing along. “Alright, but I hope you got a good look cause I am never doing that again. Next time we do this, it’ll be at a restaurant.”

“Deal, as long as we stop at the tank first,” Sting laughed at his pout, and it was arguably the best sound Rogue had ever heard.

He sat back, having found a movie they were both interested in, and feeling more relaxed than he had all day. The realization that Sting hadn’t been against the idea of a next time boosted his confidence enough to let him enjoy the rest of the night and to set him thinking of what he might try next.

A/N: 2020 was a really busy year for us. We participated in a lot of events and as fun as that was we've decided to mostly step away from that for this year. Unfortunately trying to match event prompts kept us from moving forward on stories we'd been planning on for months and we'd like to try setting our own schedule for now. 

We've started the year out with a Works in Progress month, in the hopes that we can finish or move along some of our open multis, or one-shots we started but never finished. It will also allow us to work on some of the individual projects we've been ignoring for too long. 

We've decided to expand on this story a bit more than we'd originally planned so there will be a few more chapters than we'd anticipated. We hope you enjoy this one!

[miamiartdistrict]

KAMROOZ ARAM

on the ancient arts of Iran

Achaemenid (Iran, Susa). Bricks with a palmette motif, ca. 6th–4th century B.C. Ceramic, glaze. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Rogers Fund, 1948 (48.98.20a–c)

The Artist Project

Vito Acconci on Gerrit Rietveld's Zig Zag Stoel

Ann Agee on the Villeroy Harlequin Family

Diana Al-Hadid on the cubiculum from the villa of P. Fannius Synistor at Boscoreale

Ghada Amer on an Iranian tile panel, Garden Gathering

Kamrooz Aram on the ancient arts of Iran

Cory Arcangel on the harpsichord

John Baldessari on Philip Guston's Stationary Figure

Barry X Ball on an Egyptian fragment of a queen’s face

Ali Banisadr on Hieronymus Bosch's The Adoration of the Magi

Dia Batal on a Syrian tile panel with calligraphic inscription

Zoe Beloff on Édouard Manet's Civil War (Guerre Civile)

Dawoud Bey on Roy DeCarava

Nayland Blake on boli

Barbara Bloom on Vilhelm Hammershøi's Moonlight, Strandgade 30

Andrea Bowers on Howardena Pindell

Mark Bradford on Clyfford Still

Cecily Brown on medieval sculptures of the Madonna and Child

Luis Camnitzer on Giovanni Battista Piranesi's etchings

Nick Cave on Kuba cloths

Alejandro Cesarco on Gallery 907

Enrique Chagoya on Goya's Los Caprichos

Roz Chast on Italian Renaissance painting

Willie Cole on Ci Wara sculpture

George Condo on Claude Monet's The Path through the Irises

Petah Coyne on a Japanese outer robe with Mount Hōrai

Njideka Akunyili CROSBY on Georges Seurat's Embroidery; The Artist's Mother

John Currin on Ludovico Carracci's The Lamentation

Moyra Davey on a rosary terminal bead with lovers and Death's head

Edmund de Waal on an ewer in the shape of a Tibetan monk's cap

Thomas Demand on the Gubbio studiolo

Jacob El Hanani on the Mishneh Torah, by Master of the Barbo Missal

Teresita Fernández on Precolumbian gold

Spencer Finch on William Michael Harnett's The Artist's Letter Rack

Eric Fischl on Max Beckmann's Beginning

Roland Flexner on Jacques de Gheyn II's Vanitas Still Life

Walton Ford on Jan van Eyck and workshop's The Last Judgment

Natalie Frank on Käthe Kollwitz

LaToya Ruby FRAZIER on Gordon Parks's Red Jackson

Suzan Frecon on Duccio di Buoninsegna's Madonna and Child

Adam Fuss on a marble grave stele of a little girl

Maureen Gallace on Paul Cézanne's still life paintings with apples

Jeffrey Gibson on Vanuatu slit gongs

Nan Goldin on Julia Margaret Cameron

Wenda Gu on Robert Motherwell's Lyric Suite

Ann Hamilton on a Bamana marionette

Jane Hammond on snapshots and vernacular photography

Zarina Hashmi on Arabic calligraphy

Sheila Hicks on The Organ of Mary, a prayer book by Ethiopian scribe Baselyos

Rashid Johnson on Robert Frank

Y.Z. Kami on Egyptian mummy portraits

Deborah Kass on Athenian vases

Nina Katchadourian on Early Netherlandish portraiture

Alex Katz on Franz Kline's Black, White, and Gray

Jeff Koons on Roman sculpture

An-My Lê on Eugène Atget's Cuisine

Il Lee on Rembrandt van Rijn's portraits

Lee Mingwei on Chinese ceremonial robes

Lee Ufan on the Moon Jar

Glenn Ligon on The Great Bieri

Lin Tianmiao on Alex Katz's Black and Brown Blouse

Kalup Linzy on Édouard Manet

Robert Longo on Jackson Pollock's Autumn Rhythm (Number 30)

Nicola López on works on paper

Nalini Malani on Hanuman Bearing the Mountaintop with Medicinal Herbs

Kerry James MARSHALL on Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres's Odalisque in Grisaille

Josiah McElheny on Horace Pippin

Laura McPhee on Pieter Bruegel the Elder's The Harvesters

Josephine Meckseper on George Tooker's Government Bureau

Julie Mehretu on Velázquez's Juan de Pareja

Alexander Melamid on Ernest Meissonier's 1807, Friedland

Mariko Mori on Botticelli's The Annunciation

Vik Muniz on The Henry R. Luce Center for the Study of American Art

Wangechi Mutu on Egon Schiele

James Nares on Chinese calligraphy

Catherine Opie on the Louis XIV bedroom

Cornelia Parker on Robert Capa's The Falling Soldier

Izhar Patkin on Shiva as Lord of Dance

Sheila Pepe on European armor

Raymond Pettibon on Joseph Mallord William Turner

Sopheap Pich on Vincent van Gogh's drawings

Robert Polidori on Jules Bastien-Lepage's Joan of Arc

Rona Pondick on Egyptian sculpture fragments

Liliana Porter on Jacometto's Portrait of a Young Man

Wilfredo Prieto on Auguste Rodin's sculptures

Rashid Rana on Umberto Boccioni's Unique Forms of Continuity in Space

Krishna Reddy on Henry Moore

Matthew Ritchie on The Triumph of Fame over Death

Dorothea Rockburne on an ancient Near Eastern head of a ruler

Alexis Rockman on Martin Johnson Heade's Hummingbird and Passionflowers

Annabeth Rosen on ceramic deer figurines

Martha Rosler on The Met Cloisters

Tom Sachs on the Shaker Retiring Room

David Salle on Marsden Hartley

Carolee Schneemann on Cycladic female figures

Dana Schutz on Balthus's The Mountain

Arlene Shechet on a bronze statuette of a veiled and masked dancer

James Siena on the Buddha of Medicine Bhaishajyaguru

Katrín Sigurdardóttir on the Hôtel de Cabris, Grasse

Shahzia Sikander on Persian miniature painting

Joan Snyder on Florine Stettheimer's Cathedrals paintings

Pat Steir on the Kongo Power Figure

Thomas Struth on Chinese Buddhist sculpture

Hiroshi Sugimoto on Bamboo in the Four Seasons, attributed to Tosa Mitsunobu

Eve Sussman on William Eggleston

Swoon on Honoré Daumier's The Third-Class Carriage

Sarah Sze on the Tomb of Perneb

Paul Tazewell on Anthony van Dyck's portraits

Wayne Thiebaud on Rosa Bonheur's The Horse Fair

Hank Willis THOMAS on a daguerreotype button

Mickalene Thomas on Seydou Keïta

Fred Tomaselli on Guru Dragpo

Jacques Villeglé on Georges Braque and Pablo Picasso

Mary Weatherford on Goya's Manuel Osorio Manrique de Zuñiga

William Wegman on Walker Evans's postcard collection

Kehinde Wiley on John Singer Sargent

Betty Woodman on a Minoan terracotta larnax

Xu Bing on Jean-François Millet's Haystacks: Autumn

Dustin Yellin on ancient Near Eastern cylinder seals

Lisa Yuskavage on Édouard Vuillard's The Green Interior

Zhang Xiaogang on El Greco's The Vision of Saint John

[trivialbob]

The Amazon app says the driver is five stops away. He's seven houses down the street. Sometimes I see the gray truck two and even three times in a single day on my street.

I wish my truck’s backup camera had a wiper fluid jet. I have seen headlight washers on some European cars. SUVs already have wiper fluid for the rear window. It's not a stretch to think a backup camera could also benefit from it.

Last night Sheila and I went out to dinner like younger people. In other words, it was 7:45 PM on a Saturday night, not my preferred 5:00 PM. The first two places were so busy we left. Both recently opened, and I was really hoping to try one. We ended up at the tavern by our house and got the last open table. When I’m hungry I don’t want to wait in line.

We have a fancy (i.e., expensive) new vacuum cleaner. The motor is fairly quiet. The vacuum’s design is such that the inhaled dirt and debris makes a decent amount of noise on the journey from the floor, though the spinning brush, and into the collection bag. This may mean two things: The vacuum cleaner is VERY effective. Or my floors are VERY filthy.

Sheila and Jack are doing holiday baking today. So are some  next door neighbors. My dad is here. So far there have been three trips between the houses, to exchange missing ingredients. We just sent over a baggie of dog food for their guest dog. We have a guest dog too. Bella joined Ella and Oliver barking at my dad like they’ve never seen him before.

I just walked to the grocery store to pick up a forgotten ingredient that the neighbors could not supply. On the way there a bald eagle flew right over me. Beautiful big bird.

[truefashionstories]

The If A Man Can Wear It, A Woman Can Wear It Fashion Story

Tim Victor: model, singer/songwriter - NYFW SS24 Byron Lars/Sheila Gray Collection - Red Rooster, Harlem NY

I chose this outfit because I love how gender neutral it is. A man can wear it, a woman can wear it, and it makes me feel really stylish, and fashionable. It makes me feel like royalty.

[blackkudos]

Raphael Saadiq

Raphael Saadiq (born Charles Ray Wiggins; May 14, 1966) is an American singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and record producer. He rose to fame as a member of the multiplatinum group Tony! Toni! Toné! In addition to his solo and group career, he has also produced songs for such artists as Joss Stone, D'Angelo, TLC, En Vogue, Kelis, Mary J. Blige, Ledisi, Whitney Houston, Solange Knowles and John Legend.

He and D'Angelo were occasional members of The Ummah, a music production collective, composed of members Q-Tip and Ali Shaheed Muhammad of A Tribe Called Quest, and J Dilla of the Detroit-based group Slum Village. He is a co-founder of independent video game developer IllFonic, which developed Friday the 13th: The Game.

Saadiq's critically acclaimed album The Way I See It, released on September 16, 2008, featuring artists Stevie Wonder, Joss Stone, and Jay-Z, received three Grammy Award nominations. His fourth studio album, Stone Rollin', was released on March 25, 2011. For the album, Saadiq worked with steel guitarist Robert Randolph; former Earth, Wind & Fire keyboardist Larry Dunn; Swedish-Japanese indie rock singer Yukimi Nagano (of Little Dragon fame); funk artist Larry Graham (on the bonus song "Perfect Storm") and Taura 'Aura Jackson' Stinson.

Music critic Robert Christgau has called Saadiq the "preeminent R&B artist of the '90s".

Early life

Saadiq was born in Oakland, California, the second-youngest of 14 siblings. His early life was marked by tragedy; he experienced the deaths of several of his siblings as a young child. When Saadiq was seven years old, one brother was murdered. One of his brothers overdosed on heroin and another committed suicide because he was unable to deal with his addiction to the drug. His sister died as a result of a car crash during a police chase in a residential neighborhood. Saadiq states that he does not want his music to be reflective of the tragedies he experienced, saying that "And through all of that I was makin' records, but it wasn't comin' out in the music. I did it to kinda show people you can have some real tough things happen in your life, but you don't have to wear it on your sleeve."

He has been playing the bass guitar since the age of six, and first began singing at age nine in a local gospel group. At the age of 12, he joined a group called "The Gospel Humminbirds". In 1984, shortly before his 18th birthday, Saadiq heard about tryouts in San Francisco for Sheila E.'s backing band on Prince's Parade Tour. At the audition, he chose the name "Raphael", and had difficulty remembering to respond to the name when he heard that he got the part to play bass in the band. He says of the experience, "Next thing I was in Tokyo, in a stadium, singin' Erotic City. We were in huge venues with the biggest sound systems in the world; all these roadies throwin' me basses, and a bunch of models hangin' round Prince to party. For almost two years. That was my university."

Career

1987–1999: Tony! Toni! Toné! and The Ummah

After returning to Oakland from touring with Prince, Saadiq began his professional career as the lead vocalist and bassist in the rhythm and blues and dance trio Tony! Toni! Toné! He used the name Raphael Wiggins while in Tony! Toni! Toné!, along with his brother Dwayne Wiggins, and his cousin Timothy Christian. In the mid-1990s, he adopted the last name Saadiq, which means "man of his word" in Arabic. His change of surname led many to speculate that he had converted to Islam at that point; in reality, Saadiq is not a Muslim, but rather just liked the way "Saadiq" sounded and changed his last name simply to distinguish himself from and avoid potential confusion with his brother, Dwayne Wiggins. As he confirmed by telling noted R&B writer Pete Lewis of the award-winning 'Blues & Soul' in May 2009, "I just wanted to have my own identity!"

In 1995, Saadiq had his biggest solo hit to date, when "Ask of You", featured on the Higher Learning Soundtrack peaked at #19 on the Billboard Hot 100 and #2 on the R&B chart. In 1995, Saadiq produced and performed on Otis & Shug's debut album, We Can Do Whatever.

Tony! Toni! Toné! would become major R&B superstars throughout the late 1980s and 1990s. However, after the 1996 album entitled House of Music failed to duplicate the group's previous success, Tony! Toni! Toné! went their separate ways in 1997.

1999–2004: Lucy Pearl and first string of solo albums

In 1999, Saadiq's next big project became the R&B supergroup Lucy Pearl. He recorded the self-titled album with Dawn Robinson (En Vogue) and Ali Shaheed Muhammad (A Tribe Called Quest). The group only lasted for one album.

Also in 1999, he collaborated with rapper Q-Tip on the single "Get Involved", from the animated television series The PJs. It samples The Intruders' 1973 song "I'll Always Love My Mama" and charted at number 21 on the US Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Singles & Tracks.

His 2000 song collaboration "Untitled (How Does It Feel)" won D'Angelo a Grammy Award for Best Male R&B Vocal Performance; it was also nominated for Grammy Award for Best R&B Song. The song was ranked #4 on Rolling Stone's "End of Year Critics & Readers Poll" of the top singles of 2000. D'Angelo's album Voodoo won a Grammy Award for Best R&B Album at the 2001 Grammy Awards.

In 2002, Saadiq founded his own record label, Pookie Entertainment. Among the artists on the label are Joi and Truth Hurts. In 2002, he released his first solo album Instant Vintage, which earned him three Grammy Award nominations in addition to another two Grammy nominations for his writing work on “Love of My Life (An Ode to Hip-Hop)” the following year. He released a two-disc live album All the Hits at the House of Blues in 2003, and his second studio album Ray Ray in 2004, both on Pookie Entertainment.

2004–2010: Expanded output and second string of albums

In 2004, Saadiq produced a remix of the song "Crooked Nigga Too" by Tupac Shakur which is featured on the album Loyal to the Game. Other artists he has collaborated with include Whitney Houston, Mary J. Blige, The Isley Brothers, A Tribe Called Quest, Teedra Moses, The Roots, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott, Macy Gray, Angie Stone, Snoop Dogg, Mac Dre, Devin the Dude, DJ Quik, Kelis, Q-Tip, Lil' Skeeter, Ludacris, The Bee Gees, Musiq Soulchild, Jaguar Wright, Chanté Moore, Lionel Richie, Marcus Miller, Noel Gourdin, Nappy Roots, Calvin Richardson, T-Boz from TLC, Jody Watley, Floetry, Leela James, Amp Fiddler, John Legend, Joss Stone, Young Bellz, Anthony Hamilton, Babyface, Ledisi, Goapele, Ghostface Killah, —Ginuwine, The Grouch Stevie Wonder, Earth, Wind & Fire, Bilal, Chali 2na, Larry Graham, Luniz as well as many others. In 2007, Saadiq produced Introducing Joss Stone, the third album of British soul singer Joss Stone. According to J. Gabriel Boylan of The New York Observer, "he's produced artists including Macy Gray, the Roots, D'Angelo, John Legend, Whitney Houston, Mary J. Blige, and more. With all of them he's pushed a classic aesthetic, heavy on organic sounds and light on studio magic, deeply indebted to the past and distrustful of easy formulas."

Saadiq's third solo album, The Way I See It, released on Columbia Records on September 16, 2008, available in a collector's edition box set of 7" 45 rpm singles as well as on traditional CD, was critically well-received, made several critics' 2008 best albums lists, and garnered three Grammy nominations including Best R&B Performance by a Duo Or Group With Vocals (for "Never Give You Up", featuring Stevie Wonder & CJ Hilton); Best Traditional R&B Vocal Performance (for "Love That Girl") and Best R&B Album for The Way I See It. Music from The Way I See It was featured in the following motion pictures: Madea Goes To Jail, Bride Wars, Cadillac Records, Secret Life of Bees, In Fighting (Rogue), and It's Complicated.

Touring with a nine piece band, Saadiq hit the 2009 summer music festival circuit with performances at Bonnaroo, Hollywood Bowl, Outside Lands, Pori Jazz, Stockholm Jazz Festival, North Sea Jazz, Essence Music Festival, Summer Spirit Festival, and Nice Jazz Festival, Bumbershoot Music Festival and Austin City Limits. Saadiq has been touring Europe extensively, and held a five-night residency at the House of Blues in Tokyo, Japan, in June 2009. In 2008, Saadiq formed a new label called Velma Records, a place where he promises "people can express themselves like I did with The Way I See It... where they can dream something up and just go with it".

He produced songs for LeToya Luckett's forthcoming second album Lady Love, released August 2009. In 2009, Saadiq produced "Please Stay" and "Love Never Changes" for Ledisi's August 2009 release "Turn Me Loose". Saadiq also was the executive producer for an emerging group called Tha Boogie. Tha Boogie's first EP was released on iTunes and is titled Love Tha Boogie, Vol. 1 (Steal This Sh*t).

In 2009, Saadiq announced his video game development company called IllFonic. The first video game in development by IllFonic is titled Ghetto Golf, with an expected release late in 2010. In 2009, Saadiq teamed up Bentley Kyle Evans, Jeff Franklin, Martin Lawrence, and Trenten Gumbs to create a new sitcom called Love That Girl! starring Tatyana Ali. Raphael is an executive producer and composer for Love That Girl!. The show airs on TV One and debuted on January 19, 2010. That same year, Saadiq performed The Spinners hit "It's A Shame" in a legendary Levi's commercial and sang as part of the chorus in the 2010 remake of "We Are the World" for Haiti.

2011–present: Stone Rollin'

In 2011, Saadiq was the guitarist/bandleader for the group backing Mick Jagger for Jagger's tribute performance of the Solomon Burke R&B classic, "Everybody Needs Somebody to Love" at the 53rd Grammy Awards in Los Angeles and on CBS. The band that accompanied the performance was Saadiq's touring band called Stone Rollin. In 2011 he and his band performed as the ESPY's house band for the night, where he performed his latest compositions.

Saadiq's 2011 album Stone Rollin' was released to great critical acclaim. "He's always had a boyish enthusiasm for performing, and a flexible, naturally joyous voice that suggests a young Stevie Wonder," wrote Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune, "but with his latest album, Saadiq finds a new gear. The album and his current tour demonstrate that there's a big difference between retro and classic, and the artist consistently finds himself on the right side of that divide." Kot ranked the album number seven in his year-end list, in which he dubbed it Saadiq's "finest achievement" and stated, "He's always written songs steeped in soul and R&B, but now he gives them a progressive edge with roaming bass lines and haunted keyboard textures. He's no longer a retro stylist – he's writing new classics." Critic Jim Derogatis called it "a stone cold gas of a party disc."

In fall 2011, he performed on the fourth results show of Dancing with the Stars season 13. In December 2011, he performed a cover compilation of several Neil Diamond songs at the Kennedy Center Honors award ceremony.

In 2012 he signed a deal with Toyota to do a TV commercial for the Toyota Prius. In 2013 Raphael partnered with Bay Area/ Atlanta Production company EL Seven Entertainment/ Republic Records and new R&B Superstar Adrian Marcel and released his 1st promotional mixtape "Raphael Saadiq Presents Adrian Marcel 7 Days of Weak".

Saadiq is a featured bass guitar player on Elton John's 2013 album, The Diving Board.

In 2016 he executive produced Solange Knowles album, A Seat At The Table which debuted at #1 on music charts in the United States. He also guest starred in Luke Cage, where he performs his songs "Good Man" and "Angel" at Harlem's Paradise.

In 2017 he appeared in the award-winning documentary film The American Epic Sessions, directed by Bernard MacMahon, where he recorded the Memphis Jug Band’s 1928 song “Stealin’ Stealin’” live on the restored first electrical sound recording system from the 1920s. Of recording on the system he said, “it’s amazing to just look at how it’s built, you know just look at the machine itself. It just has this like magical sound the way that it’s built. It’s true. It’s just the truest sound you could ever get.”

In 2017, Saadiq collaborated with Mary J. Blige as a songwriter for the movie Mudbound (2017), for which they both received Academy Award nominations for Best Original Song.

In 2018, he produced the John Legend holiday themed album, A Legendary Christmas.

During the 2020 coronavirus pandemic he released a song on his website called Rony! Roni! Roné!”

Discography

Studio albums

Instant Vintage (2002)

Ray Ray (2004)

The Way I See It (2008)

Stone Rollin' (2011)

Jimmy Lee (2019)

with Tony! Toni! Toné!

Who? (1988)

The Revival (1990)

Sons of Soul (1993)

House of Music (1996)

with Lucy Pearl

Lucy Pearl (2000)