#god. the spoon scene is going to live in my brain forever

[egophiliac]

I love the idea of teenage Malleus hating his new baby brother Silver but slowly falling for him

words cannot express how much I adore that Mal's reaction to seeing a human baby for the first time was "the fuck is this. why does it look like that. gross." (then he immediately got stuck on babysitting duty and the rest is history)

I am SUCH a sucker for that trope of "non-humans being fascinated by normal human behavior", so between that and all the delicious angst going on I was eating VERY well. >:) Malleus being so impressed that two-year-old Silver can walk, because it took him twenty years to stand on two legs! Lilia barging in on the Zigvolts at 2 AM being like "he won't stop crying what do I do"! Lilia trying to feed Silver rats and Malleus being like "...please just stick with what the books say to feed it"! it is all so. chef's kiss.

[ninapi]

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ First Born❜ (Halloween Special)┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Being an older brother once more was beyond exhilarating for Choso, he never expected though to find love by his little brother's side, his pretty and kind childhood friend bringing a softness into his life he didn't know it was possible one Halloween night.

Word Count: 3243

Note: this is a Semi AU, meaning the characters are who they are in the series, yet the timeline doesn’t match the original story.

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Choso has been a big brother since he can remember, that’s his number one trait and the one he is more proud of in general.

Therefore, loosing his two younger brothers continues to sting to this day.

Gaining a ‘new brother’ or finding a ‘lost brother’ which ever you wanna call it, gave him a new sense of purpose, a new reason to live and continue growing as a person.

His number one flaw though, was how unemotional he was. 

To Yuuji, Choso was embarrassing. 

He never gets the jokes, more like he can’t even laugh on his own like if his face muscles were forever stiff, a spoon could get social cues better than him; he says the most embarrassing things at the worst timing too and this brings us to this moment.

Yuuji had been flirting with the girl that worked a part time at the donut shop close by for about a month. He would always stop by and buy even if it was just one donut to munch on his way to school just so he could see her smile for a couple of minutes; he even went as far as to ask for her number last time he was there; though today, Choso tagged along and was currently glaring at said beauty for getting ‘too close’ to his brother. “What is it that you want woman? I won’t let you get your smitten paws over my little brother, you hear me? You won’t ever understand how precious he is, must be protected at all cost.”

“Oh my god…just what do you think you’re doing?? Ruining my life?? Didn’t I tell you to stay outside with Fushiguro??” 

“Itadori-kun, I think your brother is right, I don’t think I can handle such a precious boy….” the girl couldn’t hold her laugh any longer, same thing as her co-workers who witnessed the scene.

“That’s it. I’m never taking you out again. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get her to even look at me??” Yuuji was so disheartened, he opted to sit down on the sidewalk, contemplating the meaning of life while hating on his new older brother.

“I…I was just trying to-“ 

“I know, I know…just trying to be a good older brother…But have you stopped for a second and think that maybe not everyone wants to hurt me? I’m strong enough to defend myself, a pretty little thing like her wouldn’t even dream of hurting anything but my heart…” he sniffs dramatically, burying his face on his hands.

“You can die immediately if someone hurts your heart, idiot…”

This was the last drop of patience within him, “NOT literally, OK? I don’t mean my internal organ, I mean the feelings side of the heart!!”

“That’s not in your heart but your brain. You can also die if someone hurts you there-“

“Just stop talking!!!” Megumi and Nobara were both laughing their asses off at their banter, truth is Nobara saw the girl flirt with at least four different guys in just a week, she had been trying to warn her friend about her, so it was actually a good thing having dense Choso around to break the spell she had on him; that didn’t make it any less funny though.

“Itadori don’t be so hard on him, he’s pouting again.”

“I am not doing such thing-“

“Yes you are, man…” Megumi let out a deep sigh, walking on the opposite direction wanting nothing to do with the loud display of idiocy in front of him.

“Hey Fushiguro! Where are you going? We still need to discuss our plans for the party!” Yuuji yelled after him a little too loud, causing Megumi to flinch and return just to shut him up. “There’s nothing to discuss…Just be there around 9PM, you have to wear a costume or they won’t let you in, those are the rules.”

“Did you choose one already? I never pegged you for someone who’d like halloween parties~” giggling, Nobara elbowed Yuuji on the ribs wanting him to team up with her to tease their friend.

“I bet he’ll wear something ridiculous, like one of those giant carrot costumes.” bursting out laughing, both held each other from collapsing on the ground imagining carrotgumi.

“For your information, I will go as a vampire…I found dubious objects in a closet in Gojo-sensei’s, I mean back in the house…so I brought them with me for this party. Not like I want to go or anything but Maki-san threaten to shave my head in my sleep if I didn’t go…”

“Bald carrotgumi….” after one more outburst of intense laughter, the team bullying ended for the best. “I need a costume, would you go buy one with me, Kugisaki?”

All this time Choso has been quietly observing the entire thing. He knows his brother literally just said he wouldn’t take him out with him ever again, but he really wanted to prove him he could do better, that he wasn’t an embarrassment and that he was the best older brother there was to have, this was his chance. “Guys…do you think…do you think I can come with you…?” 

“No, never, non, forget about it.”

“B-but…”

“Listen, you just ruined my life! How do you even think I would take you with me again?”

“Poor guy, just let him come, Itadori…he always brings the funniest of conversations out. I like him.” Choso perked up a little at the support he was getting, even if he knew all she wanted was to mock his brother, at least someone wanted him there.

“Oh c’mon….What if he ruins it again?” 

“Just leave (Y/N) in baby sitting duty. She likes lost causes…” shrugging she started making her way to the costume shop, both of them tagging along.

“(Y/N)? I mean yes she does take recycling to an intense level and saves stray cats, but this is…this is something else, Kugisaki…” Choso’s lip was quivering once more, not wanting to face rejection for a third time on the same day by the person he wishes to please the most.

“Ok then how about we do this…” leaning close to Yuuji’s ear she whispers her plan with the most mischievous grin anyone has ever seen in their lives. To this Yuuji laughs for what feels like hours, having to stop in his tracks to wipe his tears away and calm down. “Ok, ok let’s ask him…” going over to his older brother, Yuuji bats his eyelashes prettily up at him, “Nii-chan…you can go…if you go dressed as the carrot Fushiguro isn’t wearing…”

Choso just nodded eagerly, not fully understanding what he was getting himself into. 

“Also, I won’t let you follow me around, I wanna get a girl in my bed by tonight, and you can’t stop me. I’ll ask my best friend to look after you. Understood?” this definitely wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted bonding time with his brother, have a nice time, maybe drink one of those beers he introduced him to the other day, not having to stay behind away from the fun dressed as a commonly disliked vegetable…but it was the chance he was looking for to prove he could behave.

“Is that a yes? Or-?”

“Yes, I will go.” Nobara was on her phone browsing for carrot costumes, not long after running on her way to the shop.

This would be a long night..

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The night was young, every known sorcerer and their friends and family were invited to this party.

Yuuji chose to dress as werewolf, while Nobara went dressed as a sexy nurse.

Choso though…let’s just say the carrot outfit didn’t suit him that well…

Wanting to get rid of him as soon as possible, Yuuji stopped you right at the entrance with a big grin plastered on his face. “(Y/N) my darling! My bestie! The light that shines above us…!”

“What do you want now-“ he was being too obvious, he only acts this way when he wants either money or nasty favors.

“Have you met my brother yet?”

“Your what-? I’ve lived next door my entire life and I’ve never seen a brother of yours-“ covering your mouth almost instantly, he glared at you, trying to get you to play along.

“O-oh…yes your brother! You told me about him the other day. No, I haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet!” smiling on his direction, you walked over to him, taking both of his hands in yours.

“Hi! I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to finally meet you! By the way, what an adorable outfit you brought today! I wish I knew about them before, then we could have been two carrots instead of just one!” giggling at how good you were handling his worst nightmare, Yuuji sneaks away without you noticing; thing is, not only did you not notice, but neither did Choso, and that had never happen before.

“They also had tomatoes and an eggplant, but that one was too little, it would probably fit you though.” He nodded in thought, unable to figure out why the thought of you dressed like a tiny eggplant sounded so appealing. Was this why his brother wanted him to be a carrot? Did he actually look cute?

“I would have loved to be an eggplant! We could take a bunch of pictures, probably even win the costume contest!” your soft laughter brought a smile to his face, he’s never been treated this nicely before.

“What are you supposed to be though?” he eyed you from head to toe, making you blush. “I’m Godzilla~” you posed, letting out a cute little roar, his heart skipped a beat, cuteness has never been his thing but he could see the appeal of it now.

“I apologize, I do not know what that is, but it’s certainly cuter than an eggplant. They don’t make sounds...” his comment made you giggle giddily, why did Yuuji dislike him this much? He’s such a sweetheart…

“Hmm Godzilla is…a monster…he destroys cities and kicks buildings.” you tried your best to imitate it properly, earning a smile from him once more, making you feel accomplished.

“So like a curse? I’m half curse-” he looked at you with his eyes wide opened in realization.

“Nah, more like a cute big animal lost in a city full of ants.” he nods at this, before pointing to a table by the door. “They had animal shaped cookies in a bowl over there.” he didn’t know why but he felt the need to make you smile some more, to make you feel comfortable in his presence unlike the rest of his brother’s friends and seemed like you liked animals enough to dress like one.

“Do they? I bet they’re adorable. Would you like to eat some with me?” the way your eyes twinkled at this little piece of information made his stomach feel hollow, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, he kind of wanted to feel more of this, so he went over the table and poked all the cookies from the bowl until he was sure he’s gotten at least one of every single animal available in it. 

Megumi, who was sitting at the top of the stairs hiding from a drunk panda who was trying to get him to kiss his cousin, saw the entire scene unfold, and decided to intervene before Itadori ruined his moment if he caught him. “Choso…stop touching all the food just grab a handful she’ll like it anyways, trust me.” to his advice he nodded gratefully, making sure to grab some drinks as well.

“Here, I couldn’t find the elephant, I was sure I saw one when I went by that table earlier, apologies for not getting you the complete set. I got you some melon soda though, I hope you like it.” the back of his neck felt hot, he continued wondering why he wanted to please you this bad, is not like you were his little sister, not like he wanted you to be his sister- he wouldn’t be able to last a day before dying of cuteness overload.

“Don’t worry! I’m sure Mr.elephant found a nice home in someone else’s belly.” chuckling you grabbed a little bear cookie and pressed it to his lips, “Try it! It’s yumyum~” you danced happily at the taste, wanting to share the joy a good high quality cookie can bring to someone’s life.

To this he just gave out a short nod, getting the entire cookie into his mouth. This was all so new to him, was this why his brother kept insisting in taking a girl to his bed?

What would they even do there?

He would like to take you to his and eat elephant shaped cookies, maybe even talk a little, or watch a movie, he’s been really into them since his brother introduced him to horror films.

“Hey (Y/N) would you like to go to my room? It’s a bit far but we could walk there-“ before he could continue his sentence, a shoe came flying straight to his face, Megumi coming to pull him to the side, “I’m borrowing him for just a second (L/N), be right back.” 

He took Choso outside, away from prying eyes, a deep scowl on his face, “What on earth are you doing? You spend too much time with Itadori, he’s rubbing on you…”

“I thought you’re supposed to take nice girls to your bed…”

“I..ugh..WhAT? Who told you that? Never mind don’t answer…” letting out a long sigh he plops down on a bench prompting Choso to the same. “Look, man…it is true I guess, though the order is wrong. Remember how your brother talked to the same girl for months just to get her to like him?” nodding his head he was taking mental notes, Megumi rarely took his time to teach him anything, this must not go to waste.

“When you think a girl is nice or cute, pretty even. When she’s nice to you as well and you feel like you want more of her…” his nodding intensified, it was as if he was reading his mind, describing just how he was feeling that same moment.

“You have to treat her right, make nice things for her, be patient, don’t do anything impulsive. Girls are more delicate, you can’t be rough with them. Got it?”

“I knew it. I should have looked for that elephant cookie some more…” 

A rare smile appeared on Megumi’s face, Choso has been nothing but a pain to them when it doesn’t come to fighting, but he’s never seen this soft side of him, or maybe he had, just that Itadori always shuts him down unlike you.

“Yeah well, maybe next time you can buy her a bag, I’m sure the elephant will be there.” his eyes opened widely, he hadn’t thought about that, fantastic idea.

“You’re a great guy, Fushiguro, I appreciate your advise. I can be your older brother too, if you ever need one...” with a small smile on his face, Megumi walked away back to his room, he'd have enough of this party already.

“Go back to her, before someone steals her away~” running back inside, his heart came back to his body when he saw you patiently waiting for him inside, fidgeting with your fingers.

“I have returned. Fushiguro just told me we can find the elephant cookie if I get you a new pack of cookies. Would you like to go buy one with me?”

“Right now?” that smile of yours will end up causing him heart failure, he was sure of that now.

“Or later, when you have time, if you want that is…we can also go back for the eggplant dress, if you’re tired of being Godzilla.” It was pretty obvious to you by now that he was trying to get you out of this party, you weren’t what others would call a 'party animal’, you only went because your best friend called you over; the same best friend who’s been flirting with every single girl in the room and has not addressed you for the longest time.

“I think they sell them in the supermarket down the street, lets go~!” pulling him by his hand, you both walked in silence as none of you knew what to say.

“So, how is Yuuji as a younger brother? If he’s mean to you tell me, I will kick his ass…” you knew your bestie, he could be really sweet as much as he can be a real ass when he wants to be.

“He’s great. I wish we could get along better though…but it’s hard to know what he wants. I wished everyone would be happy with animal cookies…”

“I think it’s easy getting along with you though. You’re sweet and gentle, funny too.” Choso has never been complimented before, not like this at least…was this what his brother called ‘flirting’?

“I…well I think you are all those things too…nobody has ever treated me this nice before…” his comment managed to sadden you more than anything, stopping you on your tracks to place a hand on his cheek gently.

“Then how about we see each other some more? I need you to see how special you are.” your smile was so bright, so comforting…his chest ached but in a pleasant way, he kind of wanted to rip his own heart out just to see the chemical reaction occurring within his body in this very second, his blood even felt more powerful, he could kill Gojo Satoru right now, he was sure of it. But all he wanted was to count cookies with you while looking at the night sky.

“Can we? See each other again? I mean after the cookies...?”

“Of course! Lets do all sorts of things together! Have you ever been to a theme park? Maybe I can get the eggplant costume and we could both go dressed as vegetables, that’d be fun!” your arm wrapped around his as you walked towards the supermarket.

“I’ve never been to one, no.”

“Then we totally have to go! We could play some video games too! Oh and we definitely need to go to that new crepe place down town, I heard you need a reservation and all!”

“Why do you want to go with me to all those places?” he was honestly confused, he’s been facing so much rejection that this fuzzy feeling in his chest was starting to cause some concern.

“That’s what friends do, right? Besides, I think you’re really cute…maybe…we could…you know…one of those days we go out…only if you’d like of course…we could maybe say it’s a date?” you smiled nervously up at him, he’s never seen such beauty in his entire life, not even the drawing his little brother made for him when they were little was this pretty. “I would like that very much…”

Being the first born of four brothers had its benefits as much as it has its flaws, but tonight he was sure of one thing, he was glad of getting in his little brothers nerves enough to get him to dump him with the cutest girl his eyes had ever lay on.

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Masterlist

[theartofdreaming1]

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 25-27 are below the cut.

heart

The imagery that really caught my attention this time was Peeta pointing out the changes in the moon to Katniss: The only indication of the passage of time lies in the heavens, the subtle shift of the moon. So Peeta begins pointing it out to me, insisting I acknowledge its progress and sometimes, for just a moment I feel a flicker of hope before the agony of the night engulfs me again. - So for one, we see another example of Peeta focusing on the small details in life (which I’ve previously hypothesized to being an important element in his recovery from his hijacking) as well as Peeta being the one to give Katniss hope, even if it’s just for a brief moment. Also, it’s a nice parallel to Katniss looking at the moon and desperately wishing for it to be “her moon” back in chapter 23. As a nocturnal person, I also love watching the moon from my living room window🌙

mind

Hmmh, I don’t think that Katniss and Peeta’s win was predetermined - although I do believe that by introducing the romantic angle, they significantly improved their odds. A Career winning the Games is not really that special and exciting, since it happens so often (although Careers generally satisfy that excitement for violence/blood/gore, that plenty of Capitol people seem to share). As a volunteer from District 12, who achieved an extremely good training score and proved herself to be very capable in the arena already, Katniss definitely had an edge by playing into the classic underdog story, which offered another exciting “narrative” for the Capitolites to follow - that, coupled (heh) with the romance angle Peeta introduced? Katniss (and Peeta) definitely had the entertainment (and excitement through novelty) factor on their side. Ironically, Cato’s chances of winning were not as good as he expected, precisely because he was playing it by the book.

soul

Poor Peeta (and Katniss), it hurts that their relationship was in such a rocky place by the end of the book. Especially those weeks right after the end of Book 1, when there were still cameras around District 12 and they had to pretend while hurting must have sucked big time🥺

Chapter 25

Ugh, the muttations are just so unsettling... *shudder*

Honestly, I’m just so impressed by Peeta’s presence of mind to draw that X on Cato’s hand, after he had just most of his calf ripped off, only to be grabbed and put in a headlock by Cato! He and Katniss work insanely well under pressure

God, Cato’s death is just so gruesome and awful... In the end, his “gift” from the Feast doesn’t help him win at all, but instead ends up prolonging his suffering a cruel amount... I wonder if in general these “gifts” come with a string attached (aside from the expected danger of trying to get them, I mean) - because the Gamemakers also intend for Katniss’s “gift” (medicine for Peeta) to force an even more cruel outcome on her - saving him from blood poisoning only to be forced into killing him herself... 🤔

I’m not sure if this is exactly medical protocol, but I’m terrified that if he drifts off he’ll never wake again. “Are you cold?” he asks. He unzips his jacket and I press against him as he fastens it around me. - Katniss is terrified of the idea of Peeta dying; at the same time, Peeta worries about her freezing - I can’t with these two 😩

Peeta begins to doze off now, and each time he does, I find myself yelling his name louder and louder because if he goes and dies on me now, I know I’ll go completely insane. He’s fighting it, probably more for me than for him - Katniss can’t lose any more people she cares about 😢; on a different note, Peeta fighting his unconsciousness “probably more for [Katniss] than for him” points out one of the crucial elements Katniss brings into Peeta’s life - she is that someone for whom he will fight - including for his own life and well-being - even when it feels easier to give up... Having that person in your life that keeps you going can make all the difference - if Katniss hadn’t had Prim and promised her “to really, really try” to win (and later also made Rue the same promise), I’m not sure she would have made it this far; it’s the thought of Prim anxiously watching her after Rue’s death, that forces Katniss to keep going, to not give in to despair after that particular traumatic event - Peeta, on the other hand, didn’t really have that kind of person in his life, as he will point out on the beach in CF (and Katniss acknowledges herself that the only person who will be devasted if Peeta dies is her)... that is not to say that neither Katniss nor Peeta aren’t fighters on their own - but it helps to have someone that inspires you to not give up

the adrenaline pumping through my body would never allow me to follow him, so I can’t let him go. I just can’t. - We’ll see the mirrored version of this by the end of Mockinjay 

Pity, not vengeance, sends my arrow flying into [Cato’s] skull. - Another act of rebellion, technically (sure, this can be spun as Katniss killing Cato so she and Peeta may win - before Peeta dies from blood loss - but we know better - Katniss’s motivation was compassion for her supposed enemy)

We inch down to the tail of the horn and fall to the ground. If the stiffness in my limbs is this bad, how can Peeta even move? - Peeta is tough as nails, yo!

Before I am even aware of my actions, my bow is loaded with the arrow pointed straight at his heart [...] I drop my weapons and take a step back, my face burning in what can only be shame. “No,” he says. “Do it.” [...] “I can’t,” I say, “I won’t.” - In spite of her initial reflex, Katniss chooses Peeta/ chooses not to kill him; it’s a recurring theme in their relationship (despite her wariness of others, she chooses to open up to Peeta eventually; although she vowed to never marry and have children, she’ll choose to have a family with Peeta); also, my psychology-brain just noticed how this moment illustrates how harmful thoughts/impulses don’t have to determine your actions and are not an indicator of who you are - it’s about what you choose to do

“You’re not leaving me here alone,” I say. Because if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really. I’ll spend the rest of my life in this areny trying to think my way out. - Again, makes me think of MJ; also, I think that from this point onwards, Katniss and Peeta are officially linked together forever; the bond they forged during this traumatic experience will connect them to each other until the day they die

“On the count of three?” Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. “The count of three,” he says. - My heart😭

Chapter 26

... while our muscles are immobile, nothing is preventing the blood from draining out of Peeta’s leg. Sure enough, the minute the door closes behind us and the current stops, he slumps to the floor unconscious  [...] Through the glass, I see the doctors working feverishly on Peeta, their brows creased in concentration [...] I’m not sure, but I think his heart stops twice. - Peeta was in such a bad shape by the end of the Games; I’m still kinda salty that the movie really glossed over this fact :/

... they’re taking Peeta but leaving me behind the door. I start hurling myself against the glass, shrieking and I think I just catch a glimpse of pink hair - it must be Effie, it has to be Effie coming to my rescue - when the needle jabs me from behind. - Oh geez, in Catching Fire Katniss will also get sedated in a hovercraft because she’s upset about being separated from Peeta 😢 (also, Katniss thinking that Effie is coming to her rescue 😭)

While she [Lavinia, the avox] adjusts my pillows, I risk one question. I say it out loud, as clearly as my rusty voice will allow, so nothing will seem secretive. “Did Peeta make it?” She gives me a nod, and as she slips a spoon into my hand, I feel the pressure of friendship. - Katniss is so considerate of Lavinia’s situation, and Lavinia’s giving her a gesture of comfort and support; they’ve never been able to have a proper conversation (Katniss doesn’t even know Lavinia’s name), but still they managed to build up such a bond - compassion certainly is a strong thing to behold 😭 (and this whole scene is just through and through about compassion, with Katniss asking how Peeta is doing!)

Home! Prim and my mother! Gale! Even the thought of Prim’s scruffy old cat makes me smile. Soon I will be home! - Katniss is so excited to see her home and her loved ones again

I want to get out of this bed. To see Peeta and Cinna - Aww, the two people she grew closest to over the course of the past weeks (Haymitch will be added to that list in just a smidge)

Or do I hear a man’s voice yelling? Not in the Capitol accent, but in the rougher cadences of home. And I can’t help having a vague, comforting feeling that someone is looking out for me. - Thank God for Haymitch! 

And behind one of them [doors] must be Peeta. Now that I’m conscious and moving, I’m growing more and more anxious about him [...] “Peeta!” I call out, since there’s no one to ask - Katniss is sick with worry over Peeta; romantic feelings or not, she cares so fricking much for him by now!

I run for them [Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna] and surprise even myself when I launch into Haymitch’s arms first. When he whispers in my ear, “Nice job, sweetheart,” it doesn’t sound sarcastic. - These reunion scenes are so intense and heartwarming! And then Katniss asks about Portia and Peeta because their presence would make this scene complete 

when I asks for seconds, I’m refused. “No, no, no. They don’t want it all coming back up on the stage,” says Octavia, but she secretly slips me an extra roll under the table to let me know she’s on my side - It’s moments like these that help humanize Katniss’s prep team - they might be shallow, they might be completely oblivious and ignorant, but they aren’t that bad [of course, the prep team chattering about their mundane lives while talking about the event that ended with the deaths of 22 children shortly after, leaves a bad taste in our mouths]

I immediately notice the padding over my breasts, adding curves that hunger has stolen from my body. My hands go to my chest and I frown. “I know,” says Cinna before I can object. “But the Gamemakers wanted to alter you surgically. Haymitch had a huge fight with them over it. This was the compromise.” - God, the idea that the Gamemakers wanted to give a boob job to an unconscious, malnourished 16-year-old girl makes me sick 🤢 (Also, what’s the flipping deal about boobs?! As a pretty flat-chested gal, I’ve always been annoyed that there are barely any bras my cup size that are not push-up ones; I’m not self-conscious about it, so stop making me pretend that I’m bustier than I actually am!)

“I thought it’d be something more... sophisticated-looking,” I say. “I thought Peeta would like this better,” he [Cinna] answers carefully. Peeta? No, it’s not about Peeta. It’s about the Capitol and the Gamemakers and the audience. Although I do not yet understand Cinna’s design, it’s a reminder the Games are not quite finished. - Ugh, that sinking feeling when Katniss and the reader realize that the Games are still not over... Sidenote: Peeta flirted up a storm with grimy, bloodied Katniss and complimented her when she wore Cinna’s first, absolutely badass costume (”You should wear flames more often”)... Katniss’s girlish outfit  has nothing to do with Peeta and she knows it... Cinna could have dressed Katniss up in a trash bag and Peeta would have been smitten - although a trash bag by Cinna would probably still look pretty good ;)

“How about a hug for luck?” Okay, that’s an odd request from Haymitch but, after all we are victors. Maybe a hug for luck is in order. - Aww, Katniss actually wouldn’t have minded giving Haymitch a hug just because - sadly, this is about survival tips instead :/

But what was it Haymitch said when I asked it he had told Peeta the situation? That he had to pretend to be desperately in love? “Don’t have to. He’s already there.” Already thinking ahead of me in the Games again and well aware of the danger we’re in? Or... already desperately in love? I don’t know. I haven’t even begun to separate out my feelings about Peeta. It’s too complicated. - Poor Katniss... she didn’t have the time and peace of mind to sort out her feelings regarding Peeta before they all got tied up and muddled with her need for survival. Now she’ll be having an even harder time trying to untangle that mess :(

Chapter 27

Then there’s Peeta just a few yards away. He looks so clean and healthy and beautiful, I can hardly recognize him. But his smile is the same whether in mud or in the Capitol and when I see it, I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms [...] He rights himself and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. He’s kissing me and all the time I’m thinking, Do you know? Do you know how much danger we’re in? After about ten minutes of this, Caesar Flickerman taps on his choulder to continue the show, and Peeta just pushes him aside without even glancing at him. - Man, their reunion here always gets me - it would be so fricking good if Katniss didn’t have to worry about their potential doom 😒😔 - she barely has time to just be happy to see Peeta alive and well before slipping back into survival mode while Peeta is just genuinely thrilled to have her in his arms, completely unaware of the pressure and immediate danger Katniss experiences in this moment... It hurts so bad

I’m with Katniss - How did the previous victors endure rewatching those horrible moments from the Games?! I guess because they had to, but oof... I think I’d just completely shut down, blocking out the footage shown, ugh

But I do notice they omit the part where I covered her [Rue] in flowers. Right. Because even that smacks of rebellion. - In such a callous and cruel place as Panem, any act of compassion can be regarded as rebellion, it’s crazy. In a place filled with apathy, hedonism, greed, and cruelty, the most radical things you can exhibit are love, kindness, and respect!

A wave of gratitude to the filmmakers sweeps over me when they end not with the announcement of our victory, but with me pounding on the glass door of the hovercraft, screaming Peeta’s name as they try to revive him. In terms of survival, it’s my best moment all night. - Again, another instance where Katniss’s genuine feelings/reactions to Peeta are get muddled with her need for survival

The one thing I never do is let go of Peeta’s hand. - irrevocably linked with each other

Despite Haymitch’s running interference, I’m determined to see Peeta privately. - Katniss just wants to have an honest and open talk with Peeta 😢 (I get where Haymitch is coming from, and maybe in this instance it’s the right call, but we’ll see a similar situation in the beginning of CF when Haymitch advises Katniss not to tell Peeta about President Snow’s visit and that time, it doesn’t go so well...)

Then Peeta’s there looking handsome in red and white - for someone who isn’t sure whether she’s into him or not, Katniss sure mentions how good Peeta’s looking a lot 😏

“Well, there’s just this and we go home. Then he can’t watch us all the time,” says Peeta. - 👀👀 Peeta is so thirsty here; reminds me of when he pulled Katniss close to him in the cave before they set out to hunt... He clearly believes she’s also “already there” regarding their relationship; he’s never this “suggestive” (can’t think of a better word right now) with her once she lets him know that she doesn’t really know how she feels about him - I feel a sort of shiver run through me and there’s no time to analyze why - Katniss totally isn’t averse to what Peeta’s suggesting here, either (though there’s probably also a healthy amount of fear mixed in with the thrill of being wanted - letting people in can be terrifying)

I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, “So now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?” I turn in to him. “Put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.” And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh. - It’s me; I’m people 🙋🏼‍♀️ (also, the “turn in to him”?!?!! it just suggests such a closeness, I can’t-)

Katniss burying her face in Peeta’s shirt when she’s afraid she might cry learning that he lost his leg 🥺 (how awful it must be to be constantly on display while you’re dealing with your private feelings, ugh)

“... The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind... hm?” [...] It seems to call for a big, dramatic speech, but all I get out is one almost inaudible sentences. “I don’t know, I just... couldn’t bear the thought of... being without him.” - It might not be a super eloquent way to put what she was supposed to say, but this way, Katniss is being perfectly honest (and frankly, if she’d had the chance to properly process her feelings, she would have been able to voice this sentiment with less hesitation)

I go back to my room to collect a few things and find there’s nothing to take but the mockingjay pin Madge gave me. Someone returned it to my room after the Games. - For one, Katniss didn’t think of that pin (again), but also - was the pin returned to her simply because it’s standard procedure or did someone (like Plutarch, for example) arrange for Katniss to get the pin back, to keep her connection to this symbol going?

I stare in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not. - Poor Katniss! She’s been through so much, experienced so many traumatic events in short succession recently (aside from the trauma she already had), already had problems defining her identity beyond sheer survival, and now the Capitol also keeps pushing an identity onto her and a romantic relationship, when she hadn’t even had the chance to figure out how she felt about that yet

“... Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn’t make it worse,” I say. “Coaching you? But not me,” says Peeta. “He knew you were smart enough to get it right,” I say. “I didn’t know there was anything to get right,” says Peeta. - Oh boy. It’s always so painful to see Peeta realize that he’s been completely out of the loop; again, we’ll see how Katniss and Haymitch adopt a similar strategy in the beginning of CF: banking on Peeta’s good social skills and eloquence and keeping him in the dark. In a way, it’s a sort of compliment they pay to Peeta for being good with people, but, by not telling him, they are also using him for their purpose (which is motivated by caring for and wanting to protect Peeta, but still). Peeta is right to be upset about it - he has always been very clear about not wanting to be used as a piece in anyone’s games, really. And, as we will see later in CF, they are way more effective as a team when they are open and honest with each other.

“It was all for the Games,” Peeta says. “How you acted.” “Not all of it,” I say, tightly holding on to my flowers. “Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what’s going to be left when we get home?” he says. “I don’t know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get,” I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none’s forthcoming. “Well, let me know when you work it out,” he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable. - It’s just so goddamn painful😢 They’ve both been done so dirty by that forced star-crossed lovers of Distrct 12 routine. (Sidenote: I appreciate that Peeta actually gives Katniss the chance to explain herself here - still, it’s too much to deal with on the spot so I can understand why Katniss ended up dropping the ball, even though it’s frustrating to read.)

That it’s not good loving me because I’m never going to get married anyway and he’d just end up hating me later instead of sooner. That if I do have feelings for him, it doesn’t matter because I’ll never be able to afford the kind of love that leads to a family, to children. And how can he? How can he after what we’ve just been through? - Oh Katniss, you certainly are skipping a couple of steps here; I’m pretty sure there are some options in between dating and being married with kids you could look into. Also, she’s just assuming that this is what Peeta wants, but she doesn’t know that at all - As someone who also has this stupid habit of imagining how whole conversations could possibly transpire and then resigning myself to the hypothetical outcome of said imagined conversation instead of actually having them: Don’t do that. ‘Never assume - it makes an ASS out of U and ME.’ 

I see Peeta extend his hand. I look at him, unsure. “One more time? For the audience?” he says. His voice isn’ t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me. I take his hand, holding it tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go. - Ma babies! They are both so hurt and both just want to be with each other 😭 But they’ll need some time apart, to figure things out before they can do that.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Three [PT. 1]

Words: 3k

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse

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NIKKI

1987

I throw another drink back not long after yelling obscurities at Viv as she stomped out of VIP to leave and go home, between more lines of blow, a trip to the bathroom to get a fix and some drinks, we decide to take the party to Steven's new place. 

"You guys just can't be too loud, though, got it?" He says as sternly as he can as we get inside and he fumbles for his key. 

"Alright, alright, alright," I mumble, stepping inside, grabbing his bottle of Jack off the counter before getting comfortable on the floor by the window. 

We all talk--as best we can--for a little while, Steven and the boys making some calls to get some dealers here, and the only thing on my mind is getting a potent fix, until I hear something...very faint, very familiar...very, very, familiar...I furrow my brows to focus more, ignoring the guys' laughter and voices, my eyes training on the wall opposite of me. 

My subconscious puts it together before my conscious does, like smelling a blanket from a childhood home and immediately being taken back before your brain can quite grasp the feeling. 

Multiple memories shrouding that sound of Vivian that only she can really pull off. 

It doesn't take rocket science equation solving skills to put together why I'm currently hearing her soft, pretty moans carry on next door. 

I'm pretty sure more members of Guns, aside from Steven, are staying here right now. 

Apparently Stevie hears it not long after and slips into the next suite, where the sound is coming from, that's connected to his suite. 

I don't hear it anymore after he gets back in here. 

"Dealer's coming or what?" I ask Steven, my high starting to get blowed from the fact that my wife is next door on her back for someone who isn't me. 

I'd be jealous if I weren't numb to it by now.

"They're all tied up, man." Steven tells me and I groan, thinking for a second. 

An idea comes to mind that makes me want to bang my head against the wall, but I'm desperate and left with no option at this point. 

"I know a guy," I mumble, dragging myself up to the phone in the little kitchen area, reluctantly dialing a number I never wanted to dial again. 

It rings once...twice...three times… 

"Hello?" He answers and I roll my eyes. 

"'Sup man, it's Nikki." I reply, trying to put on my best "friendly" voice, even though it's making my blood boil that the bastard I could see myself killing is ultimately the one that's gonna be able to save the day. 

"Hey, dude." He replies. 

"Me and a few buddies of mine are out here at the Franklin Plaza Suites and need a few things." I rub the back of my neck. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

It's quiet, and he reluctantly breathes out. 

"I'll see what I can do." I can hear the satisfaction in his voice that I'm having to call him. 

Within the next forty minutes there's more people here than I'm comfortable with, groupies, and hangerson, and other drug adoring morons, and then my saving grace comes through the door once Steven lets him in. 

Slash is already slipping into a Jack induced stupor. Sally came in a few minutes ago screaming at all of us guys for leaving her at the Cat House. 

We didn't even realize we'd forgotten her. 

She's in the bathroom, probably keeping herself in there to keep from starting an argument with Slash in front of everyone. 

Robbin's on the phone with Laurie.

Apparently it's just in men's nature to get fucked up, call our wives, and profess our undying love for them despite the fact we cheat on them nearly every time we hangout with our friends. 

I wonder what would happen if I went in there on her and Duff right now. 

What would she say? 

Probably nothing. 

She'd just look at the floor and try not to cry, probably. 

What would I do? 

I know that I know what's going on between them, but if I actually walked in and saw them together, caught in the act…

I'd either be a pussy and cry over it, or kill them both--him first and make her watch, and then just slowly torture her or something. God, I'm fucked up. Even though I'm pretty sure being married to me is torture enough to her. 

I know it's torture to me, too. 

"Here dude," Sparkie hands me a syringe and a spoon, and I look at him, too out of focus to concentrate on getting it right. 

"Fix me." I say to him and he scoffs. 

"Okay, dude." He starts getting it ready and I look at that wall again. Staring at it, taking a sip of my drink. 

Fucking Vivian. 

Of course. Her. Of all the women I've hooked up with and dated in my life, she--the most harmless, at least in my dumbfuck mind when I first met her--is the one to screw me over like this. 

And I've let her. 

If I did what Vince does to Sharise and have that whole, "no hanging out with your boy friends without me" rule, this wouldn't even be an issue. 

That's the problem. Somewhere along the way I loosened her leash a little too much and now she's chewed her way through it entirely. 

"You look like you're in hell, you know," Sparkie tells me, fixing the tourniquet around my arm… "But that's okay, you're about to be in heaven in just a few seconds." He assures me. 

I know he's right. I just need to hang on to that. 

In just a few seconds, I'll be--

I hear Vivian, again, and I reach around my neck and grab onto her cross I've been wearing for weeks, now, squeezing it at the sting of the needle going into my skin. 

I feel him shoot me up, my mind waiting to chase and catch the high that I just know is about to come. 

My fingers slip from the crucifix, and I feel myself fall back before a weightless feeling washes over me.

Present

I keep rereading the damn paper, repeatedly, trying my hardest not to throw a fit...

Nikki Sixx and his wife, Vivian, recently confirmed that she is indeed pregnant issuing a simple and straightforward,"Yes, it's true," statement earlier this week through Nikki's manager, and--as speculated--her pregnancy is not with Nikki. Many fans and some friends of the couple are blown out of the water by this sudden turn of events, others who are familiar with the rockstar and his band but never really paid much attention to his personal relationships, are now curious as to who exactly Vivian Sixx is. Well, in an open letter, rumored to be intended for print in Rolling Stone, a few anonymous former roadies of Mötley Crüe--who partook on their Girls, Girls, Girls, tour in 1987--are here to introduce who they saw behind the scenes of flashing cameras and public sweet moments with husband Nikki. 

"This is a letter to Mötley Crüe fans, we're a mere handful of people out of the many who witnessed monstrosities behind the scenes while on tour with the Crüe since Summer of 1987, none of which were caused by the band or any members, themselves, but one woman in particular. We had no reason to really bring any of this up, but in light of recent news, we are disheartened and angered of the betrayal against one of the four men who gave us an opportunity to live several months in our lives that will forever impact us in the best way known, and provide heartwarming memories by the dozen. This is not an attack on Nikki Sixx, especially given his past struggles with opioid addiction, alcoholism, as well as his abusive wife. The first time we met Vivian, she was polite and friendly, but very assertive. It was obvious it would be her way or no way,  and often times she and Nikki would go back and forth with who was running things. It was obvious Nikki was unwell at times, whether it'd be hungover, sick from withdrawal or simply tired from a show the night before. Vivian would choose these times when he was at his most exhausted to pick fights with him. He'd tell her to go away or 'f**k off,' and she'd continue to verbally and mentally beat him down more than he clearly already was. When Rolling Stone came to interview the band shortly after the wild rumor Vanity started publicly, we were told Vivian had tried to physically attack the reporter working on the story, simply because he made the comment that Pepsi wasn't good for her. Small things like that would often set her off, leaving security, managers, and band members to try to dodge fists while pulling her off of her unsuspecting victim, who was typically Nikki. Many times we'd hear them arguing in the hotel rooms, dressing rooms, bathrooms, tour bus, etc., usually followed by sounds of what we can only describe as 'pitchy, hungry, pornstar moans' on her part--clearly using her body to get back in his good graces after wearing him down. After their fights, Nikki would always have a bottle of alcohol on hand, some kind of drug, and would keep to himself. Our comradery with him soon began to dwindle with each month because it was obvious she was beginning to suck the life out of him. He was more introverted overtime, and higher more often than he was at the beginning of the tour. It really got bad when Guns N' Roses came on tour for a month, because Vivian's attacks on him and the other members of Mötley Crüe, began to pop off as randomly and explosively as fireworks. We'd witness some foul exchange (brought on by Vivian)  between her and Nikki backstage, either verbal or physical, nearly every night. People can talk down on the Crüe for being bad boys, but they've shown everybody that's helped them on tour, gratitude. All the wives and girlfriends that would come on that we'd offer food and drinks to would always express gratitude with a smile and a warm heart, but Vivian would always stay silent and cold towards us. She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her. We aren't surprised that she's pregnant, she probably video taped herself conceiving the damn thing and sent it to Nikki. We hope she did so it can be practice  for her inevitable low-budget porn career when she runs out of rockstars to f**k and kill, as we've mentioned, she already sounds like one in the throws of passion. Anyway, Nikki, we're hoping you decide to kick her aside and start fresh. Duff, get a paternity test, dude. Crüe fans, don't let that red-headed bitch fool you."

"Who the hell is Page Six to give these bastards a platform in the first place, Doc?!" I snap.

"Nikki, I am handling it, I'm on it--"

"--You tell the L.A. Times and Rolling fucking Stone if they take this shit and run with it, too, I'm personally coming to their offices and fucking them up. Not the publications themselves, but the people trying to put this out there in print, individually." I hiss.

"Nikki, just--" 

"--And who the hell--what roadies did this?!" 

"I don't know, Nikki, but I'm trying my hardest to get it cleaned up." He assures me. 

"'She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her'?!" I read that snippet, just so he can be reminded how fucked this is, trying my hardest not to start pitching a fucking fit. 

"Fucking AJaxx isn't even cleaning this up! Press mongrels are gonna be humping these bastards legs for giving them sales for the next nine months!" I outburst. 

"Sixx, don't worry about it, alright? It won't go past this shitty Page Six story, okay?" 

"It's fucking horse shit." I ignore him, trying to keep my cool. "Fuck." I kick at the leg of the table, running a hand through my hair.

"I guess one decently positive thing is that Viv doesn't know about this," he says next and I shake my head a little, feeling a migraine starting to come on, strong. 

I was tempted then to check myself out of rehab and 'handle' it myself, but decided it wouldn't be worth it. I hoped it would go away and it would all blow over eventually.

"Vivian, don't listen to any of it, alright? Me and you and everyone on that tour know damn well it wasn't just you being a bitch and us being the innocent victims." I say through the phone as Viv tries to calm down, her breathing shaky and ragged from crying so much. 

"I know that but the fans and other people don't know that." She says to me, her voice quiet and tired. "I'm so embarrassed, Nikki." She adds. "I'm already embarrassed that everybody knows I cheated on you but now this whole thing…" she trails off and I feel guilt tug at my heart. 

I don't know what the fuck to say. 

I'm used to criticism from the press, but none of them have tore into me or any of the guys--except Vince after the Razzle accident--so personally and extensively as they're tearing at her. 

Calling me a devil worshipper and saying my music is shitty gets annoying and frustrating and even infuriating at times, but attacking my wife and calling her a low budget porn star and telling me to kick her aside? 

Fuck that. 

"I'm sorry, Viv. I really am." I assure her, honestly, closing my eyes when I hear her stifle a little sob out. "Where are you at right now?" I ask. 

"Duff wanted me to meet his family." She tells me. "I'll be back Saturday." 

I'm relieved she actually has a reason for not being here, but I'm also hurt that she didn't give me a heads up. But I don't want to talk about it right now. I think she's been punished enough today. 

"Okay...you didn't show yesterday and I was just worried." I admit. 

"I know, it was just a spur of the moment thing. He asked me last week and I didn't think it'd be an issue." 

"Oh." 

I glance around and let out a breath. 

"I, um, I'm gonna go. I got a group thing with the guys at 3:00." I tell her. 

"Okay." 

"Are you gonna be okay or do I need to break out and kick someone's ass?" I ask her, half-joking, and she laughs, making me smile. 

"I'll be okay." She tells me. 

"I'll see you next week, Sixx." 

I can practically hear the smile in her voice when she says, "see you next week." 

We hang up and I rub my lips together, taking a few deep breaths before heading to where me and the guys meet with Amber three times a week now. 

Tommy and Vince are waiting for me, and I plop down beside them, leaning forward, elbows on my knees, hands running over my face…

"Psst," Tommy nudges me and I look at him as Vince gets up to grab a cup of coffee. 

"What?" I ask him, and he puts his finger over his mouth. 

"You seen the shit they're on Vivian for?" He whispers and I furrow my brows, looking around. 

"The room is empty except us, dude, why are you--"

"--Shh," he says. 

"Why are you whispering?" I finish my sentence. 

"Because they probably have this motherfucker bugged out the ass." He replies, glancing around again. "I'm thinking of breaking outta here, man." He whispers very, very quietly. 

"You do know we're not being held here by legal obligation, right? They won't chase us down and have the cops on us if we just check ourselves out." I point out and he furrows his brows a little. 

"Oh." 

"Why do you wanna 'break out'?" I ask. 

"I miss Heather and my dogs and I wanna be able to be there Viv, dude. She fucking needs us right now and we're, like, over an hour away--disconnected from shit. I mean we wouldn't even know what the fuck was going on in the world if Doc wasn't keeping us in the loop, ya know?" 

I think about it for a second. 

"We're over a month into our three month stay, dude." I state. "We can't just throw in the towel, now." 

"I don't mean ditch it and stay gone. I just mean check out for a few days, go back home, see what all is going on and come back." He shrugs. 

It seems oddly appealing. 

Way too appealing, actually. 

"I don't know, Tommy…" I rub the back of my neck.

"I already talked to Vince about it and he's down."

"Of course he is." 

"And we wouldn't be doing it tomorrow or anything. I'm thinking next week." 

"Does Doc know?" I ask. 

"Fuck Doc." He scoffs. 

"Agreed." I nod, chuckling. 

"So, you in or not, man?" 

"Just for a few days?" 

"Just for a few days." 

"Then we're all coming back in?" 

"Like we never left to begin with." 

"No drugs, no parties, not even alcohol." 

"Just spending time with our families and then back to the grindstone." He states. 

"...I'm in."

 ...You know when you're on a shitty diet, eating boring, tasteless, "healthy" food, and then decide you've been stuck to your diet long enough that you can have one slice of cake because you're disciplined enough to control yourself? And now, two years later, you're still telling yourself you'll get back on your diet because after that slice of cake you just said, "fuck it," and never thought about forcing yourself to eat lettuce again? Let's just say leaving rehab prematurely works the same damn way.

[mypassionfortrash]

Biology Lessons (part three)

Your date with Roger leads to 72 hours of agonising over whether you want to see him again. Will you give in and call him?

Warnings: This one gets really rude; you have been warned. This series is strictly 18+. Notes: Thank you for the incredible responses to parts one and two – I really appreciate it!

🧪✨Read from the beginning✨🧪

Tags: @jennyggggrrr​ @wineandwanderings​ @scorpiogemini​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @crayforqueen​ @perriwiinkle​ @queenmylovely​ @trymymachines​ @80s-roger​

‘Had a lovely evening last night. Let me know what you decide ;)’

There was no disguising the sigh that came with reading that text. 

“Why does Rufus’ dad want to know if you’ll see him again?”

Jumping out of your skin, you looked up at the now silent gathering. And then you turned to Ashley, a fellow teacher. “What?” you asked in a daze.

“Rufus’ dad,” she pressed, nodding at your phone.

You tried to hide the way your mouth contorted when you felt embarrassed or the way you sank in on yourself, hoping that question would just go away. “Rufus is struggling with biology, and I’m giving his Mr. Taylor some of the course materials and a bit of tuition to help him out,” you explained.

“Not buying it,” Ashley said.

“Well, that’s what it is.”

“Wait, who’s Rufus’ dad? And why aren’t you buying it?” Katie, the rather gregarious friend in the group, asked. “Do you think they…”

“He is rather attractive,” Ashley said, sitting back in her chair and looking at you. “But you’ve got the good sense not to go shagging a parent, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!”

“She’s lying,” Katie said. “Look she’s doing that thing with her lip again. She can’t even look at you.”

Ashley’s face sank. “Really?”

“Can we move on from this now, please?” you huffed. Squeezing the bridge of your nose, you became defensive. “Nothing happened when I saw him.”

Katie didn’t waste a second. “When did you see him?”

“Last night.”

“You left work bang on last night,” Ashley interjected.

“Did you see him after that?” Katie asked.

“Extra tuition,” Ashley scoffed. “Good job you’re a biology teacher. I think Mr. Taylor’s very interested in that.”

“I take it he’s a bit of a flirt, then?” Katie asked.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” Ashley said, leaning in. Her eyes were wild, frantic with the information she was about to impart. “Every single teacher at parents night.”

“Even the men?”

“If they had tits, Mr. Taylor was all over them like a rash.”

“Sounds like a bit of a perv to me.” Katie narrowed her eyes and glanced over at you. “Are you sure you’re not involved with him?”

“And the best thing,” Ashley added, “is that he’s really bloody nice. So you can’t even be mad at him for it!”

“Sounds like he’s got a lot going for him.”

The scene in front of you was a bit like a ping-pong match, and you were only there to watch. Your head batted back and forth across the table with whiplash-inducing velocity. You needed to nip this in the bud. “Alright. Alright. Will you two shut up,” you snapped, praying for the ground to split and gobble you up. “I’ll tell you what happened if you promise not to judge or fly off the handle. Just don’t say anything.”

Katie was in the process of draining her large wine glass when her eyes doubled in size. “So there is something going on?”

Ashley just buried her head in her hands.

“He didn’t show up to his appointment at parents’ evening on time. We rearranged. And he asked if I wanted to go to dinner with him. There. Happy?”

“And did you?” Ashley asked. 

You sighed and nodded, resigned to the judgmental onslaught she was about to unleash.

“You do know that if people found out about this… well…” Ashley shrugged. “It’s not going to look good for you.”

“Chill out; I know that,” you said. “I’m not even sure if I want to see Roger again.”

“Did you at least have a good time?” Katie asked.

Your heart did cartwheels just thinking about the night before. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I did. He’s a proper gent. Brought me flowers and everything.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Oh god.”

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Katie said, trying to see things from your perspective.

You shrugged and chewed at your lip. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see him again, but you couldn’t admit that to Ashley and Katie. Ashley, more so, didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing she was right. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, looking down at your phone. “I really don’t know.”

The situation weighed you down all weekend. The dread kept you awake. And on Monday morning, you wandered into work feeling like you had been on a 72-hour bender. 

The morning passed you by as you trundled on through the exhaustion. Sneaking sips of coffee between classes and occasionally giving yourself a quick smack to the face when you visited that fateful cupboard for supplies helped. 

And then, lunch came around. 

There was something about the women at the school that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something that just didn’t sit right with you. Something that made you grind your teeth every time you heard them speak. 

Maybe it was that giddy air of solidarity when someone decided to air details of their private lives in the staff room. Or the frenzied diet talk – paleo, keto, atkins and whatever else helped some poor woman lose a pound a day by only eating grapefruit or something like that. The topic of today, however, was Miss Collins from Maths’ impending wedding.

Every woman in the staff room sat huddled around her as she swiped through photos of her dress, the bridesmaid’s dresses, the cake… colour swatches for the flowers and decorations. 

You couldn’t tell the difference between periwinkle and cornflower blue if you tried. And your brain wasn’t even going to attempt to cooperate with you. So you kept your gaze trained forward, out the window, as the kettle boiled for another cup of coffee; listening in to the mindless chit chat about weddings and partners, trying for babies and the key to a happy marriage. Tracing the outline of your phone in your pocket, you found yourself searching for a temporary cure for your own loneliness.

The kettle clicked and you poured the water into your coffee cup, rattled the spoon around inside it and turned towards the door.

“Come and sit with us!” Miss Collins squawked.

The shrill sound of her voice made you wince hard enough that drops of coffee splattered on the floor. Your gaze shot between her and your colleagues; they had a delirious look in their eyes, like a group of rabid seagulls fighting for a shard of ‘Spring Bride’ magazine. “I’ve just remembered,” you began, gesturing towards the door, “I’ve got a pile of homework to mark before this afternoon.”

“Oh, come on! Come and have a look at my dress!”

Desperate to maintain some semblance of calm, you gave her a sweet smile and spoke softly. “Some other time.”

By the time you arrived back at your classroom, your coffee cup was half empty. Your cheeks felt hot and you had almost broken a sweat. You practically ran all the way there. Out of breath and cocooned inside the empty room, you dumped your lunch and mug on your desk and whipped out your phone. Your chest heaved with every tap at the screen until your thumb lingered just over his number. 

Panic simmered in your chest with every ring. Pacing across the room, you couldn’t help sinking your teeth into your knuckle while you waited for him to pick up. 

After what felt like an eternity, Roger finally answered. “You took your time,” he quipped.

“Sorry,” you sighed. “I just… needed to think things through.”

“That’s totally understandable. So, when am I getting another biology lesson?”

You bit back a giddy laugh. “When would you like one?”

“You free tonight?”

“Ooh, I don’t know. Not on a school night.”

“I could be quick.” Suddenly, Roger lowered his tone. “After all, it’s been a while.”

You gnawed at your knuckle again, deliberating whether to give in to him.

“Still there?”

“Still here.”

“Tell you what,” Roger said. “I’m picking Rufus up from his music lesson at five. I could perhaps swing by that little cupboard of yours a bit earlier.”

Your eyes snapped to the door at the back of the classroom and you couldn’t fight off a sly grin. Roger could hear it down the line.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?”

“Yes!” It came out with more enthusiasm than you had meant to. “I mean… sure.”

“Can I ask for something really cheeky?”

“Maybe. Since it’s you.”

He sounded sheepish with a naughty undertone. “Can you wear your lab coat?”

“I’ll see how generous I’m feeling come the end of the day.”

“I’ll take that also as a yes. I’ll be there at ten to four.”

“Good luck sneaking past Angela.”

Long after the halls cleared of moody teenagers, you found yourself alone in your classroom again. It was only ten minutes, but it felt like forever. And when you glanced at your lab coat hanging beside the door, something caught your eye in the corridor beyond. Angela’s red hair and cat-eye glasses were just visible through the window. And then Roger came into view wearing that bright, mischievous smile of his. You knew if he spent any longer with Angela, he’d have charmed the pants off of her, and you couldn’t have that. So you leapt to your feet and strode towards the door before she had time to knock. 

“There she is!” Roger grinned.

“Mr. Taylor’s here for Rufus’ homework,” Angela explained. “I can wait here and show you back out if you like.”

Roger furrowed his brow. “Actually, Angela, we need to talk through the homework. He’s been struggling with biology. It might take a while. Besides, I still need to pop down to Music. I don’t want to keep you.”

Angela’s eyes widened at that long-winded explanation. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry, I can show him out when he’s got everything he needs,” you reassured, choosing to ignore Roger shooting a wink at you.

When Angela was out of earshot, you reached out and pulled Roger into the room by his shirt collar. “You need to be careful,” you warned, snatching your lab coat off the hook.

“You know, in my day,” Roger began, struggling to keep up with you, “our teachers used to belt us if we misbehaved.”

“Don’t test me, just get in the cupboard.”

Roger paused at the threshold, rosy-cheeked and absolutely beaming. “Don’t mind if I do, m’lady.”

You slung your lab coat on and followed Roger inside. Squeezed against him, the pair of you were forced together in a feverish, series of kisses. 

But Roger broke away and shoved you back towards the door. “I thought I asked for nothing but the lab coat,” he mumbled against your neck as his hands clawed your skirt up around your waist. 

“Let’s see how this goes first.” Unbuckling his belt, you allowed your hands to stray over the outline of his cock. You giggled with delight, realising he was already hard. “For an older gent, you don’t have much trouble.”

“Been thinking about this all day,” he said. He didn’t waste any time, pawing at your underwear. Leaning in close to your neck, he sighed. “You filthy girl.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” you instructed, yanking down Roger’s zipper.

He allowed you a split second of stroking his cock. Leaning his head back with his lips slightly parted, you could hear him sigh, starting to enjoy himself. And then his gaze returned to you. With the full force of his body, he pressed himself up against you, sending you colliding into a cabinet full of beakers. You swore you heard some smash as he hauled you on top of it. “You want my cock?” he teased, dragging his hand down your neck. You nodded as keenly as you could manage, looking him dead in the eye. “Hm? Tell me how much you want it,” he goaded. 

You shot Roger your best doe eyes as you unbuttoned his shirt. “I’ll ask you nicely then. Please fuck me.”

Roger curled his finger underneath the gusset of your underwear and snapped it back against your clothed slit. “You’re gonna need to lose these first.” He practically tore them from your thighs and threw them to the ground. And then he paused.

“What’s the matter?” you purred rubbing at the heat between your legs. 

“I need to see those tits, too,” he said, drawing his teeth along your neck. His fingers nimbly undid the buttons on your blouse and clawed your bra straps and lab coat from your shoulders. His mouth travelled from your neck lower and lower down your chest. He nipped and nibbled, lapping at your nipples and pinched them between his lips, forcing quiet moans from you. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned.

You couldn’t contain the utter desperation just to have him. The only thing you could do was wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it for just a split second longer than Roger would allow. 

He was already so strung out that he needed a distraction. Your thighs would suffice. He squeezed at the nylon-clad flesh with a satisfied purr, peppering kisses higher and higher on one thigh and stopping right where you wanted his mouth most. He never once broke eye contact with you batting his eyelashes beneath his gold-rimmed glasses. That cheeky glint amplified your need even more. So, just as those wet, lazy kisses reached the top of your other thigh, you grabbed a tuft of soft, greying hair. Pulling him inches away from the dripping heat between your legs.

Roger knew when to be good. Following your lead, he grinned as you guided him all the way. He gingerly licked a flat, slow strip over your core. Eyes closed and relishing every drop of arousal on his tongue. But that restraint was short-lived. With his nails clawing at your hips, he buried his face squarely between your thighs and picked up the pace. Exploring every inch, sucking at every fold. You were sure this was the only time he was able to keep quiet. And even at that, he made sure to let you know just how good you tasted with soft purrs of approval that sent delicious tremors coursing through your body. He kept a toe-curling rhythm. Purposeful, forceful. But he made sure to steer clear of your clit. 

Roger was good at this. So good that he managed to have you dangling on the edge of release in minutes. He somehow coaxed out every roll of your hips with ease. And the way he gazed up at you, eyes narrowed by the smile on his lips, savouring every second of pleasure he could bring you. Being quiet about this was out of the question for you.

Especially when his fingers, slick with arousal, lingered right at your entrance. Dancing around, trying to pinpoint the opportune moment to force another lightning bolt of bliss through your body. Every second he held off drew your muscles tighter in anticipation.

At the same moment, his fingers slipped inside you, his tongue feathered over your clit and the euphoric explosion that resulted made you arch your back against him. Eager for more. You could feel it building again—faster this time. You gripped Roger’s hair and gritted your teeth as his fingers fucked you and his tongue kept time flicking over that sensitive little nub. Being quiet became impossible. You knew that if anyone walked past the lab, they’d hear all of the sighs and curses that escaped your mouth. In a moment of shame and horror, you brought your free hand up to your mouth and bit down hard on your knuckle. You knew you were close. 

Roger did too. Your muscles trembled under the iron grip his free hand had on you and the dark, knowing streak in his eyes was too much. Rather than chew your own hand off, or rip out chunks of poor Roger’s hair, you resorted to clawing tracks along the surface of the wooden cabinet. Blissful waves forced strangled whines out of you as Roger’s efforts shook you to your core.

But it wasn’t over. 

Your legs still felt like jelly when Roger pulled you off the cabinet and into his arms. You could still taste yourself when he kissed you. Pressing himself against you with one hand raking through your hair. His other arm held you firmly in place tight against his body. You could feel every feverish breath pulsing through his chest. And every moan that rattled from his body to yours. And his cock, still hard and begging for attention.

You broke away, lingering shy of Roger’s lips. “I think you should put that cock of yours to good use.”

Roger grinned and grazed his nose against yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t need telling twice. He turned you around to face the wall, leaning over the cabinet.

You could feel the back of your lab coat being hiked up and cool wisps of air caressing your skin. That was quickly replaced by the warmth of Roger’s body. The tip of his cock teased you; gliding up and down your slit. Excitement and anticipation got the better of you, though, as you tried to move back into him. 

“Steady on, darling, I want to enjoy this,” Roger taunted, giving your arse a swift swat that made you jump. 

You hadn’t registered what had happened until Roger sank his length inside you. Filling you so deliciously that your brain fogged over with need again that a delighted sigh slipped out.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, hunching over you with an arm around your waist. “And you’re absolutely dripping for me. Fuck.”

You weren’t going anywhere, even as Roger’s thrusts gained ferocity he made sure of that. The slick, sticky slap of flesh on flesh pierced the room and the worry of being caught in the act crept into your consciousness again, but you were enjoying this far too much to give a damn. The sheer girth of him and the way he stretched you had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. And you could have got lost in the feeling of his breath on your neck as he clawed off your lab coat and your blouse so that he could sink his teeth into your skin as he fucked you like an animal. You couldn’t help but tighten around him.

“I’m not going to last much longer if you do that,” he warned.

Another worry struck you.

“God, I’m so close. Where do you want it, darling?”

At least he was considerate. “Fuck, let me taste you.”

Roger’s hand found its way into your hair again, pulling you upright. “On your knees,” he instructed, backing himself up against the other wall of the cramped cupboard. “Come here.”

You did exactly as Roger told you and kneeled on the cold concrete floor in front of him.

One hand tugged at your hair, while the other directed his thick, veined cock towards your mouth. But you didn’t need any more encouragement.

Wrapping your hand around the base, Roger watched in bliss as you tongued the tip and eventually sank as much of it in your mouth as you could. Not only was his girth impressive, but it didn’t take much effort for his cock to prod the back of your throat in just the right way to send tears streaking down your cheeks. You knew your jaw would ache in a matter of minutes. You prayed he was as close as he said he was, and set about a mind-melting effort with your lips and your tongue and your hand. Which Roger clearly enjoyed as his hands fell to his sides as he admired you. Wet and slick and eager, you didn’t care about mess. Threads of saliva dripped down your chin and on to your chest.

“Fuck,” Roger cursed. “Such a messy girl, aren’t you?”

All you could manage was a strangled ‘mmmrf,’ and a stupid nod in response. At least it earned a wicked laugh from Roger.

“Show me how messy you can get for me,” he cooed almost soothingly. And then his slender fingers were back, tugging your hair as his hips thrust towards your mouth. All you could do was brace yourself on his thighs and keep your mouth open. Tongue out, drooling over his throbbing member. “Fuck. I always knew that mouth of yours would feel incredible,” he sighed, pulling you off him, leaving a thick rope of spit suspended between him and your mouth. Roger wiped it up, spreading it over your chin while his other hand pumped away at his shaft. His voice wavered when he spoke. “Be a good girl and open up.”

You were disgusted with yourself. On your knees in a science lab cupboard. Being spoken to like this. Watching in awe as Roger worked himself to orgasm and unloaded rope after rope of thick, sticky cum over your face, your glasses and in your hair. 

Roger hadn’t even given you the chance to clean yourself up before his watch caught his eye. “Shit!” he hissed. “It’s ten past five! God knows what Rufus is up to! Sorry, I need to go.” He made quick work of zipping up his jeans and buttoning his shirt. He had his hand on the door handle before he turned to you, trying to thumb globs on cum into your mouth. Roger smirked, “I’ll be seeing you again, then?”

You hadn’t thought about seeing Roger again during your romp in the cupboard. You managed to croak out an uneasy, “yeah,” just before he left.

There was only so much cleanup you could do in a cupboard. So, with your hair up in a ponytail, and the last remnants of makeup still desperately clinging to your face, you darted out to your car. Head down. Feet moving fast. Ignoring every distraction. Until a familiar voice hijacked your attention. 

“I’ll maybe see you at Easter school?”

It was Roger. You looked up, searching around the car park. You saw him waving at you six or seven cars over. Rufus was already belted up in the passenger seat, engrossed in his phone screen.

You kept quiet and looked around to check if anyone was watching. And then your eyes snapped back to Roger. “I’ll look forward to it, Mr. Taylor.”

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THANKS FOR READING! 💖 Please please please, if you enjoyed this, leave some feedback and reblog. It’s very helpful and tremendously encouraging!

[stachmousworld]

True Love (Lesbian Story) Ending 2; part.1

Maria Borges and Neelam Gill by Jonas Bresnan for L’oreal Paris (picture and caption found on @/sand-snake-kate)

Pairing: Mara x Carole

The main character’s POV is unreliable

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7

This ending will be in two parts. The last one IS just smut.

Previously: Mara and Carole had their argument in the hotel room. Carole assumed Mara and Ayela are together. Mara leaves the room...

The door closed behind Mara. Carole’s body sagged as the tension left her. What a…

“No, actually I’m not done,” Mara declared, reentering the room.

Carole almost jumped in surprise. She needed more time to put back her walls up. She knew she looked wrecked. Not the kind of look she wanted to affront, again, Mara.

“What are you doing here? I told you I don’t want to-”

“No. This time you are going to listen to me,” she announced firmly. She took a few steps further in the room. “I love you. I never stopped and I think you do, too. So, I won’t leave until you tell me why you want me gone.”

Carole could have laughed. When she had wanted Mara to stay, she had run away and now she wanted her gone and she stayed. Mara’s face fell. Oh, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Well…maybe she’d leave, Carole thought, a little ashamed. She squashed her feelings and relinquished on her anger.

“I’m…I don’t know how to apologize for that. I thought you stayed with me because I was a rebound. You never took her ring off and the first few months, you kept talking about her. You never told me you loved me. I told you every day. And at first, I was ok with you not telling me or feeling the same. At least you stayed with me. I was so pathetic,” she spat. “I should have confronted you, but I was a coward. I didn’t want to know the answer to my questions. So yes, when I so your ex and the way she talked about you and how she was back I panicked and left.”

Mara sniffed and wiped her tears. Carole opened her mouth and closed it. She didn’t have words. She only wished Mara would have talked to her about her insecurities. Fear suddenly gripped her heart. No, if she had talked to her about her feelings, Carole would have had to tell the truth about Elizabeth and her true feelings. And, Mara would have been gone forever. Carole would have lived a life without her. She couldn’t imagine that after everything.

“But maybe you are right. We have to let each other go.”

Mara stepped back still facing Carole. She toyed with the ring. It took a few seconds for Carole to understand what she had just said. She surged toward her.

“Wait! You can’t tell me all that and leave.”

“A few minutes ago, you were the one who wanted me gone because you presumed that I had a girlfriend, which I don’t, by the way.”

“I thought casual wasn’t your type”, she replied without thinking.

Mara raised an eyebrow. “People change. But, in this case, Ayela is just a friend. She and I are not like that and never will.”

Carole didn’t want to think to much on what she felt. Relief and fear. Relief to know Mara was still available and interested in her. Fear because something shifted in Mara’s behavior. She seemed unreachable. If Carole had hope to find her after all these years, she knew, deep down, that if Mara left the room, their relationship would definitely be dead.

The ring swayed slowly in the air before Mara caught it.

“I-.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’ll be out of your hair. But I find it funny that you could be jealous of my friend but when it comes to your ex…” She left her sentence unfinished. “And she is still by your side. I guess some things never change”, Mara said grimly.

“Wh-what,” Carole spluttered. “There is nothing between her and I. And if you’d had stayed around the first time, you’d know that. But no, you ran out and left me the first chance you got.” Carole couldn’t stop the word from slipping out. She was angry. This situation and all of this should have never ended like that. She hated the mess Mara left. The gaping hole in her chest was screaming to hurt her as much as she did, even though, hurting Mara meant hurting herself. Her anguish face changed into an ugly sneer. “Living quite lavishly, don’t you? I didn’t know a librarian could live afford Hawaii. Last time we talked about it; it was just a dream. Oh, but wait, it’s true, I created a position for you in my company and paid you ridiculously high for the secretary job you were doing. And with all the money you saved on my back, living at my place, you should thank me to have put up with you.”

 It took her a few seconds to notice, but…

Carole was still flushed with anger, hands in fists by her sides.

It took her a few seconds to notice, but when she did…

She tried to calm down. Her eyes were still glaring at the ring which seemed to mock her.

It took her a few seconds to notice, but when she did, it was too late.

Mara stepped back hands on the doorknob.

Oh my God.

Realization hit Carole like a train. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

Oh my God.

She couldn’t see Mara’s face. She was not facing her anymore. Carole tried to remember when she had moved. The scene was surreal. A few minutes earlier, Carole had wanted to fight for their relationship, fearing it’d be dead, and now, she was the one who totally shot it in the head, killing any chance to go back together.

“I’m so -”

“Don’t,” she interrupted with strangely calm and detached voice. Carole lips were trembling as she fought her tears. Jesus, she had fucked up. It wasn’t what she wanted to say. But she did anyway. Now, she had to- “I didn’t know you thought that of me. I’m sorry.” Carole frowned not understanding what was happening. “I’m sorry if you think I had used you.”

She seemed to want to add something but left the room instead. Before Carole had the time to react. Memories from the night of the party flooded her mind. Back then too, she hadn’t made reacted quickly enough. She ran to the door only to witness Mara in the elevator, head down, shoulder slumped.

Defeated.

Carole had done that.

She thought she’d feel better. She had been so angry and…and vengeful. She had been so hurt at Mara’s departure. Seeing her here, joyful, happy while she, herself, had been moping around and borderline depressive…something had finally snapped inside of her.

 Someone knocked on her door. She jumped to her feet and opened it. Her dad. She tried to hide her disappointment.

“Is everything ok, Care bear?”, he asked, worried.

She shook her head and fell into his arm. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

 It didn’t take long before he coaxed the story out of her. In between tears, sobs, and screams, everything came out. Her dad stayed calm and never interrupted her, whether she was right or wrong or didn’t make any sense. He stayed true to himself and let her cry her soul out. At the end, she felt so out of it. She could only focus on her breathing, any movement being too difficult.

“Hush hush my little girl”, he said, soothingly. “Sleep and we’ll talk about it tomorrow”.

“Stay here?”

He chuckled and nodded.

  Tomorrow wasn’t supposed to be that hard. Not at all. First and for the first time since forever, Carole had dreamt of Mara spooning her. Carole had hated the first time Mara had proposed to be the big spoon. She had argued, complained, and tried to push her away. She had not even stood a chance against Mara’s comfortable embrace and soothing caresses. If she remembered correctly, the morning after, she’d woken up on her pillowy boobs - Mara’s boobs were certainly the biggest she’d ever seen -, drool all over her mouth and obviously all over Mara.

She hadn’t missed Mara’s smug face and had tried to deflect this experience: she had drooled because she was extremely tired (a lie), her sinuses were blocked so she had to sleep mouth opened (a lie). Mara had only shrugged at her flimsy explanations and went to the bathroom.

What was only supposed to be a one-time experiment, turned out to be recurrent. Carole stopped fighting and accepted that Mara, indeed, was a great big spoon.

 Secondly, Carole woke up late. Around noon. She didn’t know why she was that exhausted. Her dad was long gone, and she was alone in her room, besides the little note she found on the drawer.

‘I let you sleep. Call me when you are up and we’ll talk (laughing smiley)’

She groaned and rolled under her cover. She was still tired even though her body was buzzing with energy. Her brain was sluggish, and she couldn’t really formulate a coherent thought.

She was forced to emerge from underneath all of her soft protection when she heard someone knocking on the door.

She pushed herself to a sitting position.

The knocking stopped as fast.

Had she imagined that?

No. Someone was really on the door and they were getting annoyed. The door was vibrating under the assault.

“I’m coming!”, she screamed, her voice raspy from the sleep and crying.

She didn’t even have the chance to wash her face or brush her teeth. For all she knew it was her dad and he had seen in far worse situation.

She opened the door and closed it quickly.

Mara and her not-girlfriend were there. In front of her door. She glanced quickly around and ran to her chair to pick up her robe, then the bathroom. She didn’t have the time to be thorough. She put toothpaste in her mouth, almost swallowing it, and washed her face.

 She was looking far better than a few seconds, but far worse than yesterday. Who knew that crying your eyes out would have this ugly consequence on her body? She tried not to focus on her red-rimmed eyes, puffy cheeks, and bags under her eyes.

She nibbled her fingers nervously. What the hell was she trying to do?

She came back to the door and attached her robe tightly. She could do it. Whatever it meant.

 Her first thought seeing Mara was that she looked…like shit. Carole felt a little bit relieved. At least not only her had suffered from their argument, even though, it wasn’t the same thing. She had unfairly insulted Mara, while she had taken Carole’s insults as truth. When Carole thought about it, – or at least tried to - she didn’t even know how to start her apology.

           They stood in front of each other in silence. The girl with Mara was more beautiful than she remembered. She was a natural beauty and transpired peace.

“My name is Aleya and I’m Mara’s friend.”

Carole nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t dare to talk.

“I’m here because, you both seem to be incredibly stupid. She talked to me about your fight, it wasn’t supposed to happen like it did. I had told her to talk about her feeling to get a new start, but she didn’t really understand what I said.” Aleya glared at Mara, who looked sheepish. “So, I’m leaving you, both. If anything turns south, I’ll have to be your mediator. And I don’t think you want me to listen to your heartfelt declarations”.

Aleya kissed Mara’s cheek, pushed her inside, and closed the door.

At first no one said anything. Mara was shuffling her feet and looked everywhere but at her.

“You can sit on the bed, if you want”.

Mara’s face said it all. She scrunched up her nose in a disgusted moue. Carole remembered her rules against beds and outside clothes. She chuckled silently.

“Or not. You can have one of the armchairs.”

She nodded, still silent, and sat on the chair. She made sure to take the furthest one away from Carole’s bed. Carole took a deep breath and went to sit on the bed.

“Do you want me to start or…?”

Mara tensed at the question, then opened her bag and took out a big envelope. She handed it to Carol without looking at her.

“What is it?” She asked uncertain.

“1 million 400 thousand 53 dollars.”

Carole stared at her lost. What the fuck was happening there? She opened the enveloped and saw two papers. One check and a…resignation letter?

“What is it, Mara?” Her voice sounded far away, even for herself.

“The money for my part of the rent and the salary you have paid me. The paper is my resignation letter. I should have done it a moment ago,” she announced with the same irritating calmed and detached voice as the day before.

Carole was left speechless. She gripped the envelop so tight her knuckles hurt. She couldn’t contain herself anymore.

“Is it about last night?” she asked, seething.

Mara raised un eyebrow.

“Fuck! I was angry and I lashed out. That didn’t mean anything. I wanted to hurt you. And…and…gosh, we need to have a real convo, with no interruption, no matter how hurtful we might say things. I will talk first and then I will let you talk. Ok?”

Mara nodded.

“It is true that the first few months after my breakup with Elizabeth and the first few months with you, I wasn’t a 100 percent in our relationship. I still had a part of me who grieved Elizabeth’s departure. I expected to hear bad news from the moment she left. She had been there for most of my life. I had been with her for almost all of it.” Carole straightened her back. She had long stopped trying to decipher Mara’s unreadable face and focused on her hands. “I shouldn’t have accepted to be with you so soon. I knew that you had feelings for me, and I used you, in a way. Your love soothed Elizabeth’s absence. There is no way I could actually make up for that. I should have talked to you about it and told you my thoughts. But the most important part is that I didn’t, and I hurt you all along. I don’t deserve you in any way. It took me a long time to actually register. You gave and gave, and I took all of it without giving you back. I can’t travel to the past and erase what I’ve done, because you did deserve more than half my attention.” 

Carole pried her fingers open, straightened the creases on the envelop and took the check out. 

“What I said yesterday was false. I know damn well that you didn’t use me, and you would have had the job anyway. I didn’t have to intercede for you, Marco was already smitten with you, in the first place,” Carole shredded the check and threw the confetti in the trash bin. “As for your resignation, if it is really what you want, I’ll accept it. I don’t want you to do something reckless and regret it. I know a thing or two about regrets”, she laughed mirthlessly.

Mara leaned forward and put her head in her hands.

“I shouldn’t have left like that,” she took a shuddered breath. “I was afraid you’d stay with me because I’m the one who’ll never go away. I was never doing a risky job or traveling all day. I was a safe investment, as your friend “gently” repeated. I was blind, you know? I had the feeling that you didn’t actually reciprocated my feelings, but I thought naively that once you’d see my for what I am you’d fall in love with me.” She chuckled humorlessly. “It is not entirely your fault. You weren’t really hiding your sadness and longing for Elizabeth. There were my red flags, but I kept going, head down convincing myself that at the end you’d forget about her and you’d love me. Damn, saying those words out loud make me sound more fucked up than I was.” She paused, massaged her temples and kept going. “I will keep the job and the money since you destroyed the check.”

That was it. Carole had expected Mara to talk more. She, herself, had explained thoroughly her feelings. If anything, this discussion felt as if they were putting a stamp on their relationship. A stamp which would definitely seal their fate. Carole, once more, didn’t like where it was going. She hadn’t expected a huge effusion of love and vows of a happy ending.

Mara was so closed to her and yet so far. She still couldn’t read her face and her voice didn’t let any emotion through.

“Is it…everything you wanted to say?”

Mara shrugged. Carole refrained herself from throttling her. She didn’t like that Mara. She missed the one who kissed her and teased her last night. Where was she gone? She blocked all the obvious answers and stubbornly hoped.

“Are you not going to say anything?” Carole asked, expectantly.

“You said your piece, I have said mine. What more do you want?”

“I don’t know. Yesterday we kissed. I thought today we could talk and salvage the rest of our relationship. Now I know why you left and now I apologized for my behavior, I had hoped, maybe, if you want, that we could learn again how to be with each other, and perhaps, if everything goes well, we could go out.”

Mara stayed silent for an instead, fidgeting. Carole repressed the urge to take her hands in hers, then gave in. She kneeled in front of Mara and took each hand in each of hers and brought them together.

“I don’t want to get hurt”, Mara whispered, softly.

“I know my Astroios.” Mara glanced sharply at her, making her smile. “I know. I can’t promise we won’t hurt each other. I can only assure you to communicate with you. I know I have a lot to make up for. What happened with Elizabeth was a toxic foundation for our relationship. Unfortunately, it took me many months, and some visits to my therapist to work on my feelings, both for you and Elizabeth. I had to admit that I love (Mara’s breath hitched) and loved her as she was my first relationship, but I was never in love with her. We’ve been together since we were kids. I didn’t know any better. There was no spark, no passion and tenderness only two horny teens and a good friendship. I was so used to her in my life that I considered her more like a friend with benefits at the end.” 

Carole bent her head, nose grazing the back of Mara’s hand. She pressed a few featherlike kisses. Words fell out of her mouth naturally.

“According to my therapist, you were never a rebound, even though I made you feel like that. I was afraid of really falling in love with someone and so I tried to hold onto every bits of my former life. I remember everything from our first date to the first time I knew you were the one and had to ask for my granny’s wedding ring from my safe at the bank. I tried to act as if I was detached from you because you were so addicting. You made me go to museums, theatres, operas, libraries, concerts, food trucks I didn’t know about. Even old things were looking new under your gaze. I had fallen hard and quick. Couldn’t help myself really. I actually wanted to admit my feelings to you that night at the party, and I ended up revealing my feelings to my ex-friends. I was beyond pissed.”

Carole shook her head amused. She could clearly remember the faces of her then friends. Lost in her thought, she almost didn’t hear what Mara said.

“…love you.”

Carole tilted Mara’s chin toward her and pressed their foreheads together. Blues eyes against brown whiskey eyes.

“I love you.”

Tears were running downs their cheeks. Carole couldn’t help but sagged in relief, tension seeping out of her body.

It would be alright. I would be alright. We will be alright, she thought, hopeful.

“We’ll have to take it slow, right?” Mara asked, unsure.

“Yep, we have all the time in the world,” Carole reassured her, keeping her excitement at bay. She didn’t want to frighten Mara. Everything was still fragile.

“But, I’m staying here and you’ll be in San Francisco. How are we going to do?”

Oh. Carole hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’d believe Mara would have followed her back home, but it was counteractive to their “take it slow” plan.

“I am on vacation for a month or two. I could stay at the hotel, and we could go on dates, no pressure. Then I’ll have to go back but we’ll be able to communicate and call each other every day.”

“Do you think it is worth it?” Mara asked, abruptly.

What? Was Mara already backpedaling?

“What?”

“You didn’t…your relationship with Elizabeth didn’t survive the long distance. How could ours do so?”

“I told you I was not in love with her. And Boston/Hawaii is not that far. Roughly 6 hours.”

She could tell Mara wasn’t happy with this answer. Carole, herself, didn’t want to think of their future separation. One had been enough. Her only consolation would be that, this time, they’d be together.

“We’ll have to take it slow. Give us this time to work things out. If it doesn’t work out -- ” She shivered at the thought. “…we’ll part as good friends.”

Mara scrutinized her face before nodding.

“Ok. But no funny business.”

“No “funny business”, Carole repeated slowly. It was a whiplash. A moment Mara was about to flee and now her entire demeanor was open. She looked relaxed, at ease and her usual smirk was back. Carole closed her hand, repressing the need to kiss her plump lips. ‘No funny business’. “Do you take me for an easy person?”

“You jumped on me after our first date”, she replied deadpanned.

Carole raised her left hand. “I pledge the fifth.”

“So, you are guilty. Only guilty people pledge the fifth.”

“Lies, lies and slander!” Carole exclaimed, indignant.

“Is it too late to back off this relationship?” she asked, pouting.

“Nope!” Carole hugged Mara and lifted her from her chair to the bed, making her squeal in delight. She straddled Mara’s hips and pinned her down. “Now I got you, I’m keeping you.”

Mara tested Carole’s grip and smiled. The very first one of the day. Let it not be a dream, she prayed, fervently.

“I’m not an easy woman, you know?”

“Who said I’d do some ‘funny businesses’ with you, anyway?”, Carole teased her playfully. She couldn’t stop the soft and gooey feeling from blossoming in her heart. The tiredness from earlier left for a tension she hadn’t felt since their breakup. Her skin was too tight, too hot and too sensitive. All the nerves were so attuned with Mara’s body that she didn’t know where her body started and where it ended.

“Hey! You couldn’t resist me yesterday. You were ready to risk it all.”

Carole scoffed and rolled next to Mara.

“If that makes you sleep at night”.

“No, I have Herberta for that.”

“Her…what?”

“Herberta”, Mara replied, with a tone she wasn’t used anymore. The one which said, ‘you are really thick in the head, I don’t know why I’m still talking to you.’

Part 2 aka final part

[the-fiction-witch]

I Promise...

REAL LIFE COUPLE ASA X READER RATING FLIRTY

I passed, and passed and passed until it broke me and I grabbed my phone ringing the stupid boy

"Hey y/n? What's up?" Asa asks sounding confused and sleepy

"Are you busy?" I asked quickly

"Uuuuuhhh...." He says clearly moving around "not particularly why?"

"Want me to come there or you come here?" I ask

"Uhh I'll come there sure" he smiled

"Good five minutes, it's important" I told him before hanging up I finished up getting dressed and sorting out my living room when there was a knock on my door "finally!" I complain opening my door grabbing his dark blue hoodie and pulling the skinny brunette into my house

"Ahh! Y/n! What's so dam important?" He complained as I shut and locked my door

"Tea?" I ask

"You wake me. on a Sunday. In the pouring mid October rain. On the coldest Day in months. March me to your house. five miles away. When the underground is not working. Literally drag me inside your house. For a cup of fucking tea?" He asks

"No, do you want tea while we discuss?" I ask

"Maybe I would I knew what we we're discussing" he says

"Park your ass Asa" I tell him pointing to my sofa he sighed going and sitting on my sofa rubbing his eyes a little I smile as I made tea looking at him, sat on his normal side of my sofa, his dark almost black hair a fuzzy mess a recent shoot or so he says I rather liked it this way honestly, his white shirt with some game logo on it and his blue hoodie over the top, his faded jeans hugging his legs snuggly as I brought him his cup and sat beside him he took a sip and put the mug on my table

"So? What did you want?" He asks

"I want to talk to you about something" I said and I could see the panic in his face and the blood drain from his cheeks

"About what?" He asks

"About last weekend." I said

"Last weekend? The premier? What about it did something happen?" He asked very worried

"It's not that Asa... Look, I'm not sure you taking me to these things is a good idea" I said

"Why not? You always come with me" he smiled "y/n you've been my best friend since we where five, what's going on?" He asks

"I'm just not sure I really wanna go anymore" I said

"Well why? There must be a reason y/n, is it the fans? The media? The pr people? What is it? Why don't you want to do it anymore?" He asks getting annoyed and my lack of Answers

"I'm jealous okay!" I yelled

"Jealous? Of what?" He asked I didn't answer "the fan girls?" He asked and I didn't answer "the attention?" He asked and I still didn't answer "then what?" He asked

"Movie girls" I said

"Movie girls?" He asked very confused nowhere near awake enough for my witch riddles "so girls in the movies? In the movie premieres I take you too? Uhhh why?" He asked and i didn't answer I just looked at the floor not even wanting to make eye contact with those blue orbs but he pulled me closer forcing me to look "y/n... Are you jealous of girls I have romantic relationships with in movies?" He asks

"Well you can't deny it happens alot asa!" I complain "miss peragrin, space between us, time freak, me before you, sex education, I swear it's in your fucking contact you get to snog a hot girl every time"

"Your jealous I get to snog hot girls in my movies?" He asked and i sighed my god I love the boy but he can be so dam dence "wait a minute..." He said thinking more "Your jealous of the girls, in my movie's getting to kiss me?" He asked and I felt my cheeks going red "aaawwww, that's adorable" he smiled hugging me tightly

"It's not adorable" I whine trying to move away getting up trying to escape to the kitchen

"No, no, no, it is, it's so cute" he laughs but u just tried going away more but he trapped me between himself and the kitchen counter "how long have you been jealous?" He asks

"A while" I blushed avoiding his eyes

"A while? Did someone... have a little crush?" He asked

"No I did not!" I complain trying to get away but I was well trapped

"Shame" he sighed

"How so?" I asked

"I assumed you knew y/n, I've had a crush on you for forever" he blushed

"For forever?" I asked

"For forever and ever sweetheart" he smiled giving my forehead a soft kiss "but if you don't I suppose I'll just-" he began

"Your an ass Asa" I giggled hugging him close and he hugged me tightly to resting his head on mine his arms around my chest and the small of my back lightly moving us slightly in our snuggly cuddle

"Maybe so, but y/n... I understand if you don't wanna go to some premiers with me I understand sweetheart. But I'll happily distract you when there's kissing scenes" he laughs kissing my head "I want you to come with me, because... I really do like you y/n,"

"I like you too asa" I giggled

"Plus your honest with me, you tell me when I look like a dick" he laughs

"I do" I giggled going to go but he wouldn't let me go just moving away enough to see my face stroking my cheek with his soft fingers

"Y/n, I really do like you, and... I'd want to be your boyfriend if you'd have me. If you do, I promise you no matter what a script says I have to do with a girl, I'll always be yours, and I'll always come home to you as in love as when I left sweetheart" he smiled....

'bring, bring, bring' the alarm sound bleeps hurting my head, my brain, my ears, my soul! I opened my eyes slowly and regrettably the world was dark, nothing but the light from the digital alarm clock on the bedside table flashing it's white and blue lights at me making the ungodly noise

5:37

Why does this hour exist!

I felt a groan behind me and the arm that was snuggled around my waist moved to hit the stupid things button to make the noise stop I instantly relaxed, feeling the cosy fresh sheets against my body the fluffy blanket on the duvet brushing against my arm, my cosy PJ's hugging me close as well as the soft skinny arms wrapped around my waist and the head nuzzled into my neck hair brushing my ear and his body spooning my own I groaned sleeping falling back into my deep, sweet, dreamy-

"Ahhhhhh!" I complain

"Uhhhh! Fucking hell!" Asa complained as every dam light in the trailer came on I pulled the duvet over my head hoping it would save me from the harsh twelve sixty watt bulbs of light threatening my eyes

"Wakey wakey, love birds!" A voice smiled

"Uhhhh bugger off five more minutes" Asa groaned trying to get his grip on me again

"Now! Else I am dragging you in that set for seven am on the dot even if you are in your underpants Mr Butterfield" the voice said before the door closed he sighed sitting up in bed but I wouldn't come out

"Y/n... Sweetheart? Don't I get a kiss before I need to get ready?" He asks

"No, to sleepy" I whine

"Aww sweetheart come on come here just one little kiss?" He pleads pulling the duvet away from me revealing his hair Inna messy bed head his chest exposed he smiled his half awake smile at me and gave my nose a kiss so I gave his cheek a kiss making him smile getting up from our little bed, I sat up having a huge stretch and a yawn "n'aww sleepy sweetie" he smiled as he stood by the end of the bed digging thought his suitcase for his joggers and a good shirt to wear today, the carpet was that boring light beige that we had already made messy just by walking on it, the walls white with the little windows and all the blinds closed I giggled watching Asa get dressed for work, this was technically a closed set but Asa snuck me in, so long as I promised not to have my phone on and not to go to the actual shooting sites on set while I was here which I was okay with more time in bed or craft services "are you watching me?" He asks and I nod "why?"

"Your a nice show to watch in the morning" I smiled

"Am I? Your such a silly girl" he laughs kissing my head as he slipped his shirt on

"What are you up to today?" I ask

"That's secret sweetheart you know that" he laughs

"I'm just curious Asa" i giggled

"Well, it's a secret." He laughs

"You promise you'll come home?" I whined

"Of course I will, you know I will." He smiled sitting on the bed with me "I promise, I'll come back home to you my sweetheart." He smiled before grabbing his stuff "don't wait up" he winked

"I won't" I laughed cuddling his pillow as he left for set.

[bugaboowritings]

How Animan Worked Out (With Masc!Mari) Fic

Nino has a fat man-crush on Mari. 

Made it gay thanks to @knoxursoxoffpenwriter69. 

At this point, I think I want to rewrite episodes with Masc!Mari. It’s a nice task and good exercise to make me more creative with set ending. Plus, it’s fun to put my own twist on things. Also I used ‘american’ terms for the school system since it’s easier to understand, but if you know what is what in french please do tell me. 

Masc!Mari is an AU created by @daloochsdoodles. 

“Sorry, Alya.” Mari grimaced, swinging his locker closed. “I have to babysit that day. Even if Manon gets picked up early, it takes me a good day to a week to bounce back.” Shivering as he thought about the glitter incident. A nightmare that he still can't forget.

Alya hummed in agreeance. “She’s truly a wild card." Pressing her lips together like she always did when she had a counter-argument. "Buuuuutttt- try having two Manon’s living with you 24/7.” Alya stomped her feet and made her best “baby-doll eyes” impression. “But Mari, pleaseeee! Hang out with your best friend before we become old and grey and regret missing out on the good old days.”

Mari gave her a blank stare. Informing her that she wasn’t winning this battle. Alya signed in defeat. “Okay, are you at least free to get lunch?”

“I can always open my schedule up for food.” He confessed. Making Alya roll her eyes and push him back playfully. Only to stop laughing when he missed his footing and tip back a little too far. Alya’s face suddenly switches from joy to pure horror. Happening all in slow-motion as Mari felt his soul leave his body. Prepared to feel his back land on the cold floor. Panicking, even more, the moment Mari felt someone’s shoulders with against his. Dragging an innocent soul to his clumsy doom.

“MARI! Oh my god!” Alya rushed to her knees picking up the papers that went flying up in the air as a loud smack hit the floor. Watching her best friend went on autopilot. Spitting out apologies like they were hot coal in his mouth. Mari’s face burned up with embarrassment.

“I’m so so so so sorry- I didn’t mean to. Gosh, my luck isn’t the best. I’m so sorry about this, here let me help you-” He stammered, quickly scooping up the loose-leaf paper on the floor.

“It’s fine. Really.” The other person mumbled, shoving everything in their backpack. Keeping his voice low to make less of a scene. “You don’t have to worry much, rea- Mars?”

Mari broke their neck at that. He hasn’t heard anyone call him “Mars” in some years. It was an old nickname that he picked up when he was a planet in a school play. Playing the planet “Mars” and singing a song about its carbon dioxide atmosphere. Cringing when he thought back at it. His performance was so memorable that his whole class started renamed him after his character.

“Uh- Nino?” Mari questioned back before getting a nod from him.

“Wow, Nino. It’s good to see you again!” Mari beamed. Standing up now to his full height. Looking back at Nino before handing off his work. “I haven’t seen you in like- forever.”

Nino admitted the same thing. Not helping himself as he gawked at Mari’s height. Normal reaction after meeting a friend that doubled in size since middle school.

“I’m sorry, again.” Mari shyly smiled, looking around for any more lost papers. Tensely itching the back of his neck.

“No! No-no problem.” Nino jumped. Hiding the red that appeared on his face with his cap. “We’ll all good, really dude.” Bring another sunny grin to Mari’s face.

Coughing to bring their attention to her. “Then that means you forgive us making you almost making you lose your report, Turtles, the Best Pal of The Sea,” Alya judged, raising her well-groomed brows at that title.

"If you're going to bullshit your essay, spice it up."

“Alya.” Mari shushed, receiving her “what” face. Shrugging off her friend's looks before handing it to Nino who said,

“It’s a report for Mr. Malume. He said to write an essay that 'fun or meaningfully'. I wrote it last minute and Noel had 'Finding Nemo' on repeat the whole day- yesterday so I guess that 'inspired' me.”

Alya couldn’t help the chuckle that came up from her throat. Mari snorted.

“Hope it goes well then.” Already turning around before saying, “I’m Alya by the way. Mari’s best friend.” She held out her hand for Nino to shake. “A.k.a. the editor of the Ladyblog and lover of muffins.” Ignoring Mari’s eye roll as she shameless plugged in her blog.

“Sorry to cut our time short, Nino, but I was promised lunch by a friend.” She hinted, motioning Mari to follow her lead.  

“You know where the bakery is at right?” Mari asked. Letting Alya go-ahead to their usual spot.

“The best bakery in Paris?" Nino praised, slinking his bag around his shoulders. "Couldn’t forget it.”

“Great. Then you should totally come by.” Mari trailed off. Walking backward before shooting him a wink. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Leaving the DJ alone by his thoughts and shit essay as Mari caught up with Alya, who had a sudden craving for some fries.

----------

Sipping the last drop of her smoothie with her chewed straw, Alya finally asked the question that bubbled in her mind. "So Nino and you have a long history then?"

"We were friends back when we were like eight or twelve or something." Mari closed the white kitchen cabinet. Letting his hand rest on the handle as the other pulled out two bowls for their ice creams.

"God, it's been too long." He mumbled, tugging on his lip, in deep thought about the last time he had a proper conversation with Nino. Not noticing Alya sucking the air out of her cup like she was a fish out of water.

"I haven't spoken to him after I started my tr- actually that's a lie. We spoke at a school assembly! Granted it was a 'hello' and 'good-bye'. . ." Mari thought back to his old memories with Nino. They were the same classes for some years. Up until the beginning of high school is when they quit having lessons together.

"Ah," Alya hushed. "Tea?" She smirked.

"Shush Alya." Throwing a metal spoon he drew from the kitchen drawers. "Don’t make it seem like we ended on bad terms." Not stopping the reporter's stupid grin as she only giggled some more.

-------

The bakery’s bell jingled as Nino pushed opened the front door. The scent of baked goods calmed his nerves. Relieving him since the whole walk there was a hot mess. Nino tried prepping himself mentally to not freak out or mess up his words since he planned to hang out with Mari the whole day. SO he had to try his best to not become a total mess-

"Nino!" Mari greeted, looking up from the counter. Swiftly wiping his hands on his apron then sweeping back his messy hair. 

OH NO, HE’S HOT! 

I’m a total mess, Nino acknowledged as his palms grew sweaty. 

 "I didn't expect to see you.” Quickly adding, "-this early, I mean. Most people I know aren't really morning people." Mari explained, not noticing how Nino awkwardly smiled back. Fatigue seemed to trickle off Mari’s face once he saw his friend. Showing off a toothy grin. 

Which made Nino crossed between relaxed and hella nervous (which should have to cancel out, but those two emotions just wrestled in the pit of his stomach) as Mari’s eyes stopped the words from coming out of Nino’s throat. Mari could bring anyone to ease with one of his smiles, but there was something about his eyes that made people sweat and burn. Nino's face composes a thin smile, nodding to whatever Mari was rambling on.

"-breakfast then. Right, Nino?"

"What?" Nino slapped himself mentally. Excusing himself and asking Mari to repeat himself.  Already praying for an Akuma attack to save him from this moment.

"Do you want anything?" Mari nodded toward the pastries which were fresh from the oven. Still warm from toasting to a golden brown.

"It's my treat."

"I have to clean up before we can go out so you have something as you wait." Already pulling a clean plate by the counter. Motioning to the glass display between them for Nino to take a look. 

Nino wanted to say that he didn't want anything, but his brain didn't like the idea that Mari could possibly take offense for denying a free pastry. Or then like him less. Which could make Mari not want to hang out or maybe even be his friend. Nino's adolescent mind could write novels using the outrageous scenarios it made up on the spot. It wasn't until he met Mari's eyes again. Which like a wave, brought him back to ease.

"The chocolate croissants are calling my name." He hummed. Causing Mari to chuckle.

Okay, maybe this isn't so bad, Nino thought. Returning Mari’s bright smile. 

----

Mari slurped the last drop of his slushie. "How did you know about the panther? I came here like, not even last week and didn't even see ANY of this!" Throwing his hands up to motioning all the panther posters. Holding up his drink to prove his point. "They even had themed-food! Granted, it's just a different cup but still!!" Mari's enthusiasm gradually rubbed off to Nino, who couldn't help to laugh at Mari's reaction to everything. It was like watching a little kid gush about an amusement park. Making him feel like time hasn't passed between them. As if they were eleven again. Mari surely had that part down since he acted like it.

"Mari!"

Nino and Mari both turned to see two guys their age walking towards them. Turns out it's Max and Kim. Max waves as Kim raised his arm in salutation.

"Yo, Mari! Nino!"

"Hey, Kim, Max; what are you doing here?"

Kim gave a smug grin."We heard the new panther's here. I wanna see who's get the bigger guns!"

Kim shamelessly flexed his arms before getting a comical eye-roll from Max. Nino heard Mari whisper under his breath if he was the only one that didn't know about the panther. Not helping the chuckle that slipped his lips. Earning him a light elbow jag from Mari.

"Do you want to come with us?" Max promptly asked.

Nino stopped the panic from dripping into his words. "We were actually on our way to see it. . ." Nino trailed off. The whole point was to get close to Mari, not with the boys. Nino was already cooking up a plan to get out of this mess.

"Cool!" Kim grinned. "We can just head there together!" Throwing his arms over Nino and Mari, pulling them to the panther enclosure. All without a second thought.

--------

Otis, the panther's care keeper, slid a metal dish covered in raw meat at the foot of a tree. Watching the black feline gracefully leap down from its playground to this meal. Otis rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought before scribbling something down in his notes. Flipping thought them before marking some charts and - then messing up a whole page with his blue pen in shock. Scorning the source of the sound that spooked him and the panther. Not to his surprise, it was a child banging on the glass. However, not any child but a teen with nonsense for brains.

"Whoa! Look at the size of that piece of meat it's eating!"

"Kim, don't hit the glass like that!" Mari barked, bothered by his actions. Kim didn't budge from his spot as he gawked at the black cat. Nino watched Max suddenly type something in his phone before informing them more about the panther.

Dropping another fact, "It's a typical diet for this feline species since it requires the strength to run at speeds in excess of 60 miles per hour." Looking up from his screen to see the panther himself. Moving closer to the cage in awe. "So it needs quite the amount of calories."

Everyone nodding to that as they watched the wild animal rip up its lunch in smaller pieces. All as if it was an episode of Animal Planet in front of their eyes.

Of course, Kim had to ruin the tranquil moment.

"60 miles per hour? Is that all? I could have sworn panthers were much faster than that." Bending his legs in some simple stretches like the ones he did before a swim or a race.

"I bet that I could beat it in a race."

Squishing his face on the glass screen again. Cooing at the panther. "Hey, kitty, kitty. How about a little race with me, huh? Last one's a rotten egg!"

"Kim, calm down."

"Cocky, are we?"

"With a 6 feet-per-second wind behind you and 45 degrees to the north-east... I don't think you'd be a rotten egg. You'd be lunch."

"Not another challenge, please."

The group reasoned with Kim to stop provoking the animal. Which grew more aggravated every minute Kim stood there. Knocking it in his head that they WEREN'T here to do that. Not noticing the growing frown on the zoo keeper's face. Hushing curses as Otis jingled his keys to find the right one to the door.

"Kim, have some sense and leave the animal alone." Mari snapped. Flicking Kim's forehead. "You're making the panther growl and the zookeeper here is about to kick us out if you continue!"

Kim sighed, letting his shoulder slump down. "You guys are no fun." He huffed. Nodding his head towards another exhibit. Already leaving as he got his last remark in.

"Let's leave that poor widdle kitty alone with its babysitter!"

Followed by an ow as Mari kicked him.

-----

"Serious, you are no fun."

"Neither is this. Pass." Nino huffs. Dropping his outrageous dare before Kim could have the chance to change it.

"Rinnnngggg! There's the bell," Max held on to an imaginary microphone before commentating, "Nino has now lost his ability to reject this next truth or dare. If he still has the guts to say no then he gets the ultimate punishment. Care to explain it, Mr. Dupain Cheng?"

Mari held back their laughter. Holding on his own imaginary mic and his earpiece. Mustering up the best newscaster voice he had. "Thanks for that Mr. Kante. If Nino dares to reject this truth then he will have the chance to win a trip to clean Kim's gym locker for the next wee-"

"MARI!"

Confused to hear his name called out again, Mari turned around. Having the boys follow his actions until they came to view a pretty girl with glasses. Waving to Mari, who like a puppy-dog raced to her before excusing himself from his friends.

So long for alone time, Nino mumbled.

Kim, Max, and Nino watched as Mari hugged the girl. Both exchanging some words before the girl started to throw her hands around. They were a bit too far to hear what they were saying but by the looks, she had something important.

-----

"BIG! Not just the run of the mill story but it's BIGGER, Mari!" Alya exclaimed. Barely able to hold her excitement in. "The best part of it is that Nadja asked me directly! SHE WANTS ME on this STORY! She wanted ME to report on it!" Alya gushed, not believing that this isn't a dream, but reality!

"That's amazing!" Mari cheered. Feeling the high Alya was one as she screamed at him on how her dream was on the verge of coming true.

"RIGHT!" She huffed, throwing her hands around. Almost tossing up the bag she had in her hands. "I just knew that I had to tell you in person-Crappppppppppp." Losing her enthusiasm as she noticed the bag and the time on her watch.

"I have to go give my dad his lunch. I left the twins with Nora, so I have to split before things get out of control." Alya and Mari pulled each other in a hug before Alya dashed off to her father's office. 

"I'll call you!" Mari yelled. 

"Better." She replied. Not having to turn around for Mari to know that she still had her grin. 

-----

"Seriously, dude." Nino groaned. "Mari doesn't have a girlfriend."

"Well, who was that chick then?" Kim pushed on. Poking Nino's shoulder before brushing him off. "Mari has been a loner for like -ever! Why is he covered with ladies, now!?"

"If any girl that Mari talks is his girlfriend, then he's married to all of Paris then!"

"That's Alya Cesaire," Max pulled up her Instagram. "She's the editor of the Ladyblog and is the new girl from our school. She recently moved for her father's new job and her mother works at Le Grand Paris. Not to mention her sister is notorious kickboxer here. Getting the best seats at every match she fights in." 

Nino and Kim looked at Max with blank stares.

"What?"

"Max, how did you even-"

"She's tagged Mari in a lot of her pictures." He nonchalantly says. Before liking one of Alya's photographs. "Everything else is in her bio."

Before the boys could even say anything else, Mari came back running. Mumbling a 'sorry'. At that moment, Kim jumped the gun before Nino could try and shut him up.

"Dupain-Cheng," Kim smirked, wiggling his brows. "When were you going to tell us that you were off the market?" Slinking his arm around Mari's broad shoulders.

"What market?"

"Kim, just stop." Nino hissed now clearly annoyed. However, that made Kim more pushy the more he was told no.

"You know, the market." Wiggling his eyebrows more furiously. AS if that would help and make his point. Kim just looked like an idiot.

". . .What."

Max stepped in, "Kim thinks that Alya and you are an item." Double tapping on another picture.

Mari couldn't help but awkwardly laugh at that. "Bold of you to assume that I'm taken."  Shrugging off Kim's arm. "Alya and I are just close friends."

With that Nino sighed a breath of relief. Mumbling a 'thank god', slumping down to a nearby bench. Quickly losing the color from his face once again. He didn't say that out loud, did he? Looking back to his friends who looked back at him with a perplexed expression. Kim then broke the silence with a loud gasp. Max looked up from his phone, connecting the dots in his head. Mari's face grew a big grin.

Plotting his hand by Nino's head, Mari leaned in. Watching as Nino's blush grew bright and bright. Mari's nose scrunched up, a cute quirk he had for years, something he did when he was examining something thoughtfully. Mari's dark eyes narrowed making Nino sweat bullets.

"Nino, oh my god!" Mari exclaimed. "You have a crush!"

At that point, Nino had two options. Confess to him or play dumb. However, his knowledge of romance from soap operas told him to shout:

Yes, I do Mari. It is you that I care for.  I know we been through much and been away from each other for some years. However, that hasn't stopped the passion in my beating heart for you. You are still the Mari I know and care for. Please let's stay together as we developed our bromance. Let me be your rock. Let me be there when you have a rough day. Let me hug you and smell the flour and sugar on your sweatshirt after working a long day in the bakery. Dude, I would do it all for you. Just let me-

Nino decided to play dumb before his mouth spilled out a whole ballad.

"Whattttttttttt." Nino squawked. His voice was now higher than normal. "Whatchu mean?" Pulling his head back like a turtle going in his shell. "I don't have a crush on anyone."

"That's the biggest lie of the history of lies." Kim jumped. Swiftly pushing his way to Nino's face. "Luckily, we have a way to break liars here." He grinned.

"Nino Lahiffe, you own us a truth." Kim huffed. Crowded by three curious guys, Nino was in a position he wouldn't want anyone in. “Or you will be cleaning my gym locker after practice.” 

Nino frowned at that. “Why is that even the punishment? Can’t you easily do that?” 

“WE’RE ASKING THE QUESTIONS HERE!” Kim barked. Only to regain his stupid grin from before. Making the hair on Nino’s neck raise. He felt his weak knees buckling in place. His arms growing heavy as his stomach was rocked with his boundless anxiety. Mom's spaghetti    

"Do you like Alya?"

what.

 "What?"

"I mean the signs are all there. He got irritated whenever we were talking about Mari and Alya being a thing." Kim pressing the fingers in his hands as he went on. "He even told us to knock it off when we were thinking of ship names."

"Not to mention, he seemed pretty relieved to know that they were still single," Max noted, pushing up his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

"Come on, guys," Nino reassured. Trying to play it cool. "You are just imagining things." Picking at his ear. Avoiding eye contact.

They were off by a mile, but they were getting too close for his liking. 

"He's totally is crushing on her." Kim smiled all smugged. "The denial  just proves it."

----------

Yeah, Lady Beetle knew it wasn't right, but he just couldn't help himself. He loved playing matchmaker and he felt like Andre, the Ice Cream Man, the moment he "protected" Nino and Alya from the Akuma attack by locking them together in the empty gorilla cage.

Ignoring Chat's stare as he evilly giggled to himself.

[vincevanbro]

heaven couldn’t wait for you ✘ bell brothers & vanessa

TAGGING → Tiny Bell, Vanessa Montgomery, Vince Bell

TIMEFRAME →  Saturday, April 11th

LOCATION → Maple Street Park

NOTES → The Bells and Vanessa gather at their childhood park to pay respects to Rocky. However, an unexpected guest causes things to go awry. 

Tiny: remembered that this was his idea in the first place as he arrived to the park where he'd spent a good chuck of his childhood. This brought back all sorts of memories, some good, some not so good, but the one thing he knew was that this was a place that meant something to Rocky. And in turn, it meant something to Vanessa as well. He didn't want tonight to be about crying, being sad, somber music like a funeral. It was a celebration of life, regardless of how short it was, and what that life meant to the people that were coming. "Yo." He greeted with a head nod as he was finishing putting a large gathering of balloons on the pole near the gate of the park. "Just wanted to get a head start. This was his favorite color..I know I kinda went overboard..but I just wanted to make this place look a little nicer." He shrugged his shoulders. "This place looks nicer than it did back then.."

Vanessa: was clutching her portrait of Rocky against her chest as she made her way to the once familiar park. She had so many memories of running around, scraping her knees up, and kicking up dirt around here; the same memories she tried to give back to Rocky whenever he wanted to be out for the day. Vanessa couldn't decide yet if this was a good idea or not, but she needed something like to celebrate her son––with people who knew it was her son and not just another Montgomery brother. "Hey," she replied softly, approaching Tiny. It was far more than she imagined, and Vanessa felt herself becoming a little choked up looking over the scene. "It's perfect, T," she grinned. "Back then there was graffiti all over the slides and only one of the swings had a set," she joked lightly.

Vince: despite being the younger bell brother, tiny has always been the voice of reason. where vince was planning on handling things with rocky in his own way, a vigil was a far thought. it took his younger brother’s persistence to remind him that the little boy deserved to be remembered, not just avenged. “yeah, it is” he nods in agreement as he approaches the pair, an aluminum foil pan of food in tow. he smiles a tiny smile at vanessa, less full with regret like the ones he’s been sending her lately, more familiar, more warm. he thinks for a second as the wind swipes at her blonde locks that he’ll feel bonded to her forever, and no matter who he’s with, what he’s doing, or whether their child was here to witness it they’ll be family till the end of time. all of them. “crazy how shit changes—“ he tacks on his two cents, can’t help the way his voice sounds just a little nostalgic.

Tiny: "I remember. I hung upside down on the top of the swing set while ya'll used to swing. Fell off it and lost 3 baby teeth at once. Good times." He joked lightly with her, able to feel happy about the memories they shared together. When Vince arrives, he's worried slightly at first, unsure of how these two would react to everything, especially around each other. But his brother is..warm, which is new for him, and he can sense he's trying to reflect and think of the good times just like they were. "hopefully by the time i bring my own kid here, this place isn't a strip mall with a hair salon tacked on." he added as he walked over to the two of them, standing between the two of them as he lets out a small sigh. "thanks for saving my ass back then, both of you guys. i was a short kid with a smart mouth. not a good combo.", he pointed out with a light laugh.

Vanessa: was thrown off seeing Vince approach them. Of course he'd be there, but she wasn't expecting him to see so not menacing? Vanessa offered a smile back in his direction, not knowing what their dynamic would be now, but for today that wasn't something to worry about. "You used to tease me for wanting to do nothing but swing the entire time," she replied, a playful laughing coming out. "And I was a quiet kid who couldn't fight. Ya'll've bailed me out more than once too," she smiled back between the boys. Once Tiny was standing between them, Vanessa moved forward, putting the portrait of Rocky on the sidewalk near all the balloons. Her smiling baby with bright hazel eyes like hers and (the more Vanessa looked at it) Vince's smile? Looking at the picture brought a tears to her eyes, sitting down completely in front of the display.

Vince: “well i’m pretty sure we’ve always known who the muscle of this operation is” he jokes, cocky, but good-natured as they all reminisce on a time where their biggest trouble was whether or not the ice cream man had enough blue raspberry icees. and despite their neighborhood not being crime-stricken, and constant feature in the nightly news, he was comfortable here. it was home. dark hues focus intently on the picture of the little boy that vanessa places on the ground, and all he can visualize is the way he found him. and he knows now is a moment for grief, remembrance, not brewing, bubbling, inconsolable anger. so he stays quiet, despite the clench of his fist. “so how do we kick this off? he murmurs, at somewhat of a loss. “i’m following your lead t”

Tiny: is glad that he's able to look at their time as children fondly, despite their circumstances. This was their home, and they'd made it out for better or for worse. His eyes go to the picture, and he frowns, letting out a huff as he looks at the picture. He swears he can spot his mother a bit in the boy for the first time, and it sends a chill up his spine he can't shake. Still, he knows that he's the one who put this together, and he knows he has to be strong for the both of them. "Rocky..liked ice cream." he said as he wanted over to vanessa, kneeling down next to her as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "i used to bring over a carton of cookie dough for him, kai, and me to split. split lines down the middle three ways, you know?. kai would get up and go to the bathroom and i'd try to steal some of his, but rocky would be like 'no no teeny!' and smack my hand with his spoon." he smiled sadly, blinking rapidly to fight off tears. "so whenever i start to mess up, he's always gonna be in my head smacking me for it. thanks, nephew." he finishes, and lets one of the balloons go free as a symbolic gesture. "v, i know you're got a ton of stories." he encouraged as he patted her shoulder.

Vanessa: "Muscles, brains, beauty," Vanessa teased, pointing between each word at Vince, Tiny, and herself. She looked to Tiny's hand, a sense of comfort washing over her. Instead of letting his hand relax on her shoulder, Vanessa took his hand in hers. Just trying to use some of this strength for herself. "No wonder when I'd come back from practice he'd be geeked up and running up walls," Vanessa replied shaking her head. She didn't know what she expected this to be, but it was better than whatever sorrowful thing her father planned, that her father didn't invite her to. "i remember when he first learned how to walk. all he was able to do for a long time was just stand in place and then he'd immediately fall straight on his butt or cry for someone to help him," she started wiping her face. "I think i had went to get groceries or something. He looked at me with those big hazel eyes and took off running. Didn't take a test walk, lap or nothing. Just ran straight into my arms and spilled coffee all over my hair and I didn't care one bit. Because that boy's hugs could cure everything," Vanessa called back, hope returning to her voice.

Vince: a smile breaks on otherwise stern features as the pair share their stories of the little man, and he stares as the balloons ascend so far up into the clear blue that they look like they might touch heaven itself. in fact, he hopes they do. because if heaven is real, he knows rocky’s there, that he can see how much he’s missed, how many people he touched in his unrightfully short time on this earth. suddenly there’s silence, and he knows it’s his turn. and he’s never been much of a wordsmith, has the d in english to show for it. but knows, if only for once in his life, he has to try. “i uh—I remember I used to come over and for the longest the little man would just stare at me and not say a word, like he was scared shitless, like he aint never seen something so tall and black before—“ a dry chuckle leaves his lips, “til one day i remember one time I facetimed you and I heard the littlest voice in the background say “that’s bince!” and you were telling me about some shit the girls at school were doing but all I could think was damn, maybe he fucks with me afterall—“ he still can’t help but grin at the memory as he lets go of his green balloon to join the others. “you aint deserve this little man—“ he says, words hushed and threaded between a deep, regretful sigh.

Tiny: feels some comfort in their words as his listens to both of their stories, though he knows that their the ones that need it the most. He hoped in his life that he wouldn't ever have to go through the pain of losing a child, his child, to something so senseless, and he could only hope they wouldn't in their lives either. He squeezes Vanessa's hand, reluctantly pulling himself, along with her, back to their feet. "We'll see you again, Rock." He says, giving the picture one last little lookover. He's not the most religious kid, but he believed in God enough to say a silent prayer, just with the hope he could see his nephew when his days are done. He lets out one last deep huff, before his attention turns to the food in his brother's hands. "So, don't know about you guys. But I wanna smash that food over there. Let's go back to our house and-" He starts to say, but he's cut off by the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned around, his brows knitted in..confusion? Relief? An older man in a dark suit, black tie, dress shoes. His hair is short and tapered, eyes like his sons. He isn't sure..but he knows this isn't what he was expecting today. "Dad? What are you doing here?"

Papa Bell: remembered this place all too well. This playground, this block..this entire neighborhood was his kingdom. From his father's petty criminal days, to himself, and now to his sons. But prison has a way of changing the way you approach things, makes you think and remember the big picture. His red Ferrari is parked a block away, his men patrolling the area so no one gets any ideas, and his bodyguard is near the entrance just in cause someone old head feels brave. He brushes his lapel slightly as he walks up to the younger people, getting a good look at the three of them. "You said you were paying respects to your kin, it's why we couldn't catch that Raptors game." He told his youngest, his face gentle and kind like his mother, before turning his attention to Vanessa and Vince. "I'm sorry to hear about Rocky, Vanessa. I hear my grandson was a handful, but a loved kid." He tells her, his eyes noticing just how different the girl looked. No longer that same little girl his kids would talk about, she was all woman, and apparently his oldest knew a thing or two about it. "You look amazing..guess I taught you something right." He says finally to his oldest, who he hasn't seen face to face in almost 8 years, but knows he's his spitting image. The temper, the attitude..himself in a time machine 20 years ago with a little more edge to it. "Sorry about your boy, son."

Vanessa: nodded, smiling as Vince attempted his shot at storytelling. He was always a man of few words, but at least he was trying. Vanessa rested her head on Vince's shoulder, though much taller than her, feeling that same safety and security with the Bells that she felt as a little girl. "He loved you, you know... Both of you," Vanessa said softly, eyes fixated on her son's picture. "My beautiful baby boy," she whispered, more-so to herself than to either of the boys in particular. Never in her life did she think she that she'd have to say goodbye to her child. Parents weren't supposed to bury their children, but then again burying her mother wasn't easier either. She came out of her thoughts once she felt Tiny squeezing her hand. "Rock Bell would have been a really cool stage name for an indie DJ," she added, trying to bring some light to their situation. She was so in some bliss from the moment that she didn't even notice the figure before them until he said her name. Vanessa popped her head off Vince's shoulder, instead moving behind him as a sort of protection. She didn't say anything, just watched with cautious eyes between the Bell men.

Vince: “hell yeah I could kill some ribs right now” vince agrees, rubbing his hands together greedily. he feels like it’ll do them all some good, a family dinner to tie a bow on what had been an emotional, albeit cathartic day. but guess who’s coming to dinner? he senses him before he sees him, little kids on the blacktop temporarily cease their game of h.o.r.s.e. to ogle the strange man in a dapper suit, jays and dope boys alike clear the walkway to make room for the maple street legend. if looks could kill the hard stare vince casts would have the kingpin six feet under, regardless of how much the face he glares into resembles his own. the way he sees it this man is the root of much of their turmoil, the reason why their mother was the way she was, why tiny and vince have had to fend for themselves for so long, why he witnessed things kids his age shouldn’t have. “yeah what the fuck are you doing here?” he makes sure his distaste his apparent, wants him to know he’s unwelcome. and if vanessa hadn’t taken the liberty to step behind him he would’ve done it himself, doesn’t even want the man to breathe in her direction, let alone speak to her. “you don’t talk to her” he doesn’t care what he knows, or what he thinks he knows, or who he’s supposed to be to the streets. to him he ain’t shit. ain’t never gonna be shit, and it’s this festering anger that pushes him to take it even further. “and he ain’t your grandson, cuz you aint my pops, just some nothing ass nigga that don’t know shit about responsibility”

Tiny: can barely even registered the weight of this entire thing. He didn't specifically mention that they were coming here, just that he was busy doing a memorial of sorts. Did he just assume the location? Were they followed and they didn't know it? Tiny looked around, spotting his father's longtime security guard, 'Uncle' Tito near the gate, so he suspected his father came here with a purpose. He glaces to Vanessa, unsure of a lot, but he knows he doesn't want her in the middle of whatever this is. He lets Vince say his peace, he knows that whatever issues these two have are something he doesn't know every little detail about. "Relax bro.." He says, stepping next to his brother, feeling he has the strength to keep cool heads calm even today. "Pop, I get it, but can we talk tomorrow or something? This is kinda..our thing." He motions to the picture, trying to keep what this was about today in mind. Not their mother or their issues. "Please?"

Papa Bell: can't say he's too surprised by the looks on the group's faces. To them, he was just something of a boogeyman, someone to be feared, a cautious warning story of what would happen if you stayed in the lifestyle for too long. "You saying all that, but who taught you how to use a pistol? Who kept a roof over your head? Me. Who made sure you had the keys to the kingdom when I got locked up? Stick you chest out for your girl all you want, you know it's true. But I didn't come here for all that." His voice was slightly loud to match Vince's tone, but he quickly corrects himself, straightening up his tie as he looks at his two sons once more. "I just came to pay my respects. Nothing more than that." He responds, raising his hands in surrender to make sure they knew he meant no harm today. He looks around the neighborhood, his streets, a final time before he pulls out 10 bands, tucking it into Tiny's jacket pocket. "For y'all and Nessa. Tell your mother I'm looking for her if you see her too.", he tells him before he snaps his fingers, and his car is by the entrance within seconds. "When you to get these niggas and talk some real shit." He mentions, handing Vince a piece of paper with his name and his new warehouse on it.

Vanessa: had heard stories all throughout her childhood about the eldest Bell. He was their modern day Candyman and was feared among the majority of the block. He was one of the biggest reasons Vanessa's family moved out of the hood in the first place, it wasn't safe anymore for anyone. Vanessa was thankful hearing Vince taking up for her, but the second she heard their father's thunderous voice, Vanessa clenched onto Vince's hand. He was scarier than what she remembered from the stories and Vanessa could never wrap her head around how Tiny could come from someone like that. Tiny as always coming in as the voice of reason she hoped could alleviate the situation, but Bells weren't known for peacekeeping. They were known for their very short tempers. She watch the interaction, once the father walked away, Vanessa could still feel the tightness still in her chest as she stood there motionless. It felt like all her childhood fears just came flushing back by getting one look in Mr. Bell's eyes.

Vince: his face contorts, a clear cross of disgust and anger apparent on his features as his father makes himself out to be some kind of hero. he might have given them the blueprint, laid the foundation, but when he went in it was on him to pick up the slack. “you ain’t give me no keys nigga we had to get this shit out the mud when you left. niggas was clowning you, talking bout how you had fell off and shit the only reason the bell name still good out here is cuz of me and don’t you ever get that fucked up” he might’ve left behind a boy when he went of to prison, but vince was a man now. a breadwinner. with people that depended on him, the slight squeeze of vanessa’s hand reminding him of that fact. he watches him hand tiny some money and say something about his mother, and when he hands him the paper he’s quick to crumple it up. let’s it fall to the ground and crushes it underneath his sneaker. “come on y’all, we out”

Tiny: once again, just lets both males say their piece. Whatever this was, this wasn't something that could be solved by locking two people in a room, and he's glad that he never took Becky's advice on the matter. He looks at the money, brows furrowed as he tries to think of the last time he's seen his mother, the contempt he has for her probably as much as Vince has for their father. He can't understand it, whatever bond they have (is it a bond or a hustle to sell some more crack?), and he doesn't want to know. But he's the glue, so he nods slowly at his words as he sees his father walk off. He was getting used to figuring out what kind of man he was, but now he was more that aware of the switch that could flick in an instant. His attention turned back to his family..his people, ready for this to be over. "Yeah, um, I'm hungry.." he says simply, brain still buzzing about what this meant.

Papa Bell: "I can tell your emotional." He reply simply, pulling out a cigar from his lapel and lighting it. He can tell when he's not wanted, and he knows it'll take some time. But Tiny had already come around, slowly, letting him back into his life. In his eyes, Vince would do the same. But he needed that fire to stay lit, that firecracker attitude that could get him locked up but take over a city overnight at the same time. But he had all the time in the world for them to break bread, and he was a patient man. "Enjoy your night, kids." He says as he bows out, blowing a kiss in Vanessa's direction. "Hey lil baby. When you're done with messing with little boys, ask my boy Tiny for my number. Just to catch up." He says, bellowing out a small chuckle as he puts the cigar to his lips, turning to walk away in the direction of his car.

Vanessa: Vanessa's eyes grew wide hearing Mr. Bell's goodbye to her. He wasn't... hitting on her was he? "Uh, yeah I'll keep that in mind," Vanessa replied weakly. She was still perched behind Vince, her grip on his hand tightening. In the moment of time, Vanessa didn't know if she was tightening her grip for safety for herself or safety for the older man. Though Vince and her didn't date anymore and he had a new girlfriend, that didn't change the fact that Vince still saw her as /his/. She turned to Tiny, hoping for some kind of help to deescalate the incoming conflict. "Y-yeah, T's right... Let's go back to your guys' place," she struggle through her first words through their interactions.

Vince: he looks disgusted at his father’s lewd commentary, looks at vanessa for even responding. and a bitter smirk crosses his features because it only proves him right. this man hadn’t changed, despite the fancy get-up, and calm demeanor. he was still vindictive and low as the day he disappeared. he can feel vanessa tugging him away, can sense tiny’s discomfort, but rage clouds his judgement, his vision, all he can see is red. “aye pops!” he calls after him, and the minute the man can turn around he decks him across the face with unrelenting force.

Tiny: 's brows furrow at his father's words to Vanessa. That's..not what he wants to hear at all, his own feelings about the girl aside, today wasn't supposed to be about any of that. How could he say something like that? Tiny considered himself lucky he only remembered vague stories about his father from Vince and his dad's runners, the hero of the block, something mythical he couldn't quite reach. But now? All those stories meant jack, and he wasn't sure what he was getting himself into getting involved with the man again. Before he can say his peace though, his sees Vince run up and punch him, and he charges into action. "Dude chill!" He says pulling his brother back. He knows Vince can fight, but he can see Tito running to them fast, like a NFL linebacker ready to pounce. And that's not even considering the car he sees rounding the park every minute. He can analyze a situation in an instant, and he knows this won't end well if Vince keeps this up. "We need to get out of here unless you want that big guy to toss you off a roof. This isn't it. And you!" He calls out to his father as he gathers himself. "You need to leave. NOW."

Papa Bell: before he can even realize it, he feels his son clock him in his jaw, knocking him to the ground. He'd been hit more than a million times before, smoked a ton of fools for crossing him in dice games and deals gone wrong. And while this one hurts just like those, he feels a sense of pride. He collects himself, putting his hand to his lip as he sees the blood his oldest has drawn, and he bellows out another dark chuckle, spitting out blood on the concrete. "That's my boy. You alright, kid." He says with pride, waving off his bodyguard as he runs over, quick as the wind for somebody so large. He sees his brother holding him back, always the cool head and smart, and he's proud..but he knows he can be just as useful as his brother in other ways. In time, he'll find a way to get both allegiances he thinks, but he knows today isn't the day. But at least he's given them something to stew over. "Come on, Tito. We out." He says as he gives the young group a head nod before turning around, back in his car with his flunkie and gone in an instant.

[rahelawaters]

Prompt #1: Voracious

For @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast‘s #FFxivWrite2019 challenge.

Ao3 link here!

W'rahela was always a hungy child. But she possessed no strength to swing a sword or draw back a bow; she made for a poor huntress, and thus had to rely on her mother, W'yulhia, to feed her. But even then, W'yulhia had to contend with a great deal of obstacles to feed her family. Her hometown was at the very southernmost part of Thanalan; a pointed mesa known as the Gold Fang. It was one of the few settlements south of the Sagolii that still stood. The harbor at Cape Deadwind had been on the decline from pirate attacks even before the Calamity irrevocably wrecked the place and broke the earth, cutting off the entire region from the rest of Thanalan. The W tribe's rivals of the U did not help matters by competing for what little land prey was left. Most of Rahela's meagre childhood meals consisted of various fish from the sands and seas, and little else. Occasions when the W tribe huntresses were lucky enough to bring down sandworms and sundrakes were her idea of a lavish meal…

"And with that, I bid you enjoy the feast!"

Thus, the now up-and-coming adventurer sitting down for the royal feast held in her honor, could scarce believe her eyes at the sight of the impossibly rich banquet laid before her. More foods than she knew the names of lined the table of the Fragrant Chamber, filling her nose with more scents than she could describe. Steaming, freshly-baked bread rolls, with golden brown and bubbly crusts. Countless kinds of meat, some pink, some white, some dark brown, some in-between, all juicy and glistening. Roasted popotoes cut into bite-sized pieces, made colorful with green and red spices. Sauces and melted cheeses to pour over top of everything…

The anxiety she'd had at rubbing elbows with the Ul'dahn . Any and all reasoning that once resided within her brain was henceforth given to her appetite; she was a stormy vortex and all food within her arms' reach was going to disappear within her mouth. Eyeing the meats, she grabbed the biggest fork in front of her and speared slices of every kind onto her plate. With a spoon, she scooped up the popotoes. While her bare hands were all she needed for snatching the bread from its basket.

Her hand was a blur as she formed a small mountain onto her plate. Once she'd had a satisfactory pile, Rahela dug in. She began by taking a roll and chomping down, savoring the crackling crunch of the crust beneath her teeth, contrasted masterfully with the much softer warmth of the bread. One roll, and then two were quickly devoured, at which point she noticed a miniature plate containing a scoop of butter. The third and last roll was quickly sliced open, and a smattering of half-melted butter was smeared between the split before it closed again; Rahela practically purredat the difference that the addition had made in the flavor.

Next were the popotoes; the skin was crisp and salty, the spices giving mouthwatering flavors to what might otherwise be bland flesh. Even better, their compact size meant Rahela could stab three pieces upon a long-pronged fork and eat all three at once.

And the meats… Gods be good, the meats… The tastes of them defied all description. She could never, ever, ever go back to eating fish after this.

Her reverie abruptly ended mid-chew when she chanced to open her eyes and see a masked lalafell looking right at her. The upturn of his mustache indicated that he was… sneering at her. Rahela stared back, confused, unconsciously swallowing her mouthful.

"Your Grace," the masked lalafell said, leisurely turning his head in Nanamo's direction. "I accept that this banquet is meant to hail this, ah… this 'lady' adventurer as a savior of Ul'dah, and is meant to cater to her limited palate. But I ask you all, must we really watch her gorge herself with such reckless abandon?"

"Wh-- huh?" Rahela froze, her ears folding back. Was she doing something wrong? And did he really use air quotes when he called her a lady? What was he saying? "I-I, I was just, I, I…"

"Lord Lolorito," Nanamo spoke up, her voice even, but icy cold. "I ask that you refrain from mocking our guest of honor at her own banquet."

Lolorito? The man who tried to have Wystan killed for wanting to help the poor? The man who terrified Rahela into hanging up her staff for a week, and nearly forever, for fear that the same would happen to her? THAT Lolorito?!

The monetarist goes on, not reacting to the sudden, visible fear that had gripped the adventurer. "Then I ask that the guest of honor act in a manner that reflects as much. I can hear her chewing from here, and her elbows are on the table. Scrawny as she is, I suppose I could tolerate her simply eating quickly; but honestly, I've seen swine with better table manners."

"I fear that not all of us have been entrenched in etiquette lessons since before we could talk," Nanamo deadpanned. "If the sight of a hero vigorously enjoying a well-earned meal is so unbearable for you to watch, then don't."

It seemed that Lolorito had run out of motivation to argue the point any further, because he said nothing else. Despite the mask covering his face, Rahela could still feel him glowering at her. And now, thanks to the scene he made, she could feel the stares of everyone in the room. She'd made a fool of herself in front of the entire upper class of Ul'dah, just by eating in front of them. By not knowing unspoken rules that nobody told her existed. Just by existing and enjoying a nice meal, she was an embarrassment…

The spiral of anxiety was abruptly ended with the sound of a low belch directly next to her. And immediately all the judgemental stares were drawn away from her, and honed in on the source of the noise.

Rahela blinked, and turned her head to the one sitting at her right. The source of the belch was a young midlander man with slicked-back, snow-white hair; there was something familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. He held a cloth napkin to his mouth, and then cleared his throat. "Do excuse me; the meal was so exquisite that I forgot myself."

That voice! Rahela felt a warmth in her cheeks; she didn't recognize Thancred with  lowered the napkin from his face, and took the briefest moment to give her a knowing wink.

"But what's a little faux pas between friends?" He punctuated with a shrug, and a disarming laugh. The tension in the air remained, but it passed into simple awkwardness as the dinner guests returned to their meals and conversations amongst themselves.

She'd been eating like a slob in front of Ul'dahn high society, and in front of her crush… Thankfully, he seemed to be on her side; and so did the Sultana. But Nanamo was on the other end of the table and Rahela at least knew enough that yelling her thanks across the table would not help matters. But, her mind digressed. "Thancred, I, uh, I, I didn't…"

With a smile, Thancred crossed his arms in his chair. "I wanted so badly to remind him that it was the Monetarist vote that was prevented the Sultanate from giving aid to Cape Deadwind after the Calamity and accelerating its decline into poverty. But I doubt you would appreciate my telling him where your family lives. So instead I opted for the diversion."

"I…" Rahela wanted to say more, but no words would come to her. Instead, all she could communicate was a simple, "Thank you."

"'Twould be remiss of me to sit by and let that bastard humiliate you," he reassured.

"But, Lo--"

"Don't mind him, or any of them. This is your feast, not theirs."

Rahela knew he was right, but… "Still, I went overboard, and made a slob of myself in front of everyone here…"

"And? So what if you did?" The bard shrugged. "A man of my occupation has seen his fair share of well-to-do social events. Etiquette is important for keeping up appearances and blending in, but it's all performative. No need to be self-conscious, friend. Truly, I understand."

"Understand what?"

"Being excited at the prospect of having access to more food than you've ever had in your life," he explained. "For them, a feast like this is nothing; they eat this well all the time. But for starvelings who've never seen so much food in one place, freely offered to them? It's an experience beyond all our imagination. Don't let the upper crust snobs ruin this for you."

(In the din of the room, Rahela didn't catch onto the meaning of Thancred's use of 'our'.)

"In fact, allow me to make your feast even more indulgent…" Pulling some roast popotoes from the pile and putting them onto a small plate, Thancred poured a thick cheese sauce over them, letting it drape over them, followed closely by another, thinner brown sauce. He then nudged the completed dish towards Rahela. "There we are. Popotoes, combined with cheese and gravy; or to call it by its proper name, poutine. You are welcome."

She looked to him, then back to the dish. Scooping up a spoonful of this new dish, she lifted it to her mouth, and… By the gods, he was right; all the flavors she loved in the popotoes combined with delicious cheese and meaty gravy? Somewhere deep within her throat came a high-pitched squeal as she chewed, the look on her face akin to one who'd just reached the Seventh Heaven.

"The only thing I would advise regarding your eating," Thancred advised, while watching her reactions with a crooked smile, "is that you pace yourself. And save room for dessert, of course."

Rahela's ears perked up and her eyes flew open. "There's dessert?!"

"If I know Her Impetuousness' sweet tooth, most certainly."

[lanamemories]

red mist | self para

This was a dream.

Or maybe just a reality where the colours looked kinder. Softer, somehow. Like they wouldn’t cut your fingers to reach out and touch. Blurred at the edges, whipped up that way by an abnormally large whisk. 

She didn’t know it, though. Didn’t know anything, in this place, only that the wind was on her cheeks and she was floating way up high, legs flailing without a resting point.

“What is it that you want, Lana?”

The voice was familiar, but no matter how much she craned her neck, she couldn’t see a source. Only blue. Clouds that looked painted onto a canvas by a delicately bristled brush.

She was alone.

“I don’t know,” was all she could come up with for the time being, too consumed by the texture of the breeze beneath her hands to think about anything else. If she pressed just right, the howls of air felt like fingers. She couldn’t stop trying to grasp them, even though they weren’t grasping back. Even though they weren’t real in the first place.

“You do know, you just know that you can’t have it.”

Letting out a scoff, Lana flipped onto her back, eyes on a giant gumdrop sun. It was simultaneously ablaze and melting, dripping globs of purple into the sea below at every passing hour towards sunset. By eight P.M., it would have come apart enough to sizzle holes through her limbs, collapsing over the entire world and engulfing everything in one.

For some reason, the prospect didn’t scare her.

“Way to be totally cryptic. Feel like I’m in, like… one of those weird little fortune teller tents. The ones with shitty lighting, and cloths draped over everything. With a crystal ball.”

“You’re scared.”

Hands coming together on top of her stomach, she locked her fingers with her eyes on the two-dimensional sky. It looked like a piece of wrapping paper plastered over the lid of a shoe box. If she squinted her eyes just right, she could even see that the corners were dog eared and drooping, contemplating a divorce from the Blu Tack. But everything looked that way, if she really paid attention.

Everything was falling apart, when she took a close enough look.

Instead, she shut her eyes.

“Bit hypocritical, coming from someone I can’t even see. What are you, hiding behind a curtain like the Wizard of Oz? Crouching in a dark cave in the corner, like Gollum? Sounds like you’re the scared one, to me. Like… Got you there. Check mate, or whatever people say. Check… Is that right? Check mate? Whatever. Chess is boring.”

“You can see me,” the voice replied, calm and composed like an ancient deity.

“Can’t. I just tried. Can you, like… I’m trying to relax, a little. Sun bathe, and stuff, so--”

“Open your eyes, again.”

Prying her fingers loose of their formation, Lana pushed upright with her elbows on a surface that wasn’t there. All around her, now that her eyes were open, she could see tiny flecks of red mist. Palm upturned and fingers splayed, she lifted her hand to sift gingerly over the closest patch, combing through with the tips of her middle and index. It felt like dragging your hand through a clump of finely woven thread, except that you never got tangled.

He wouldn’t want her to get stuck.

“Tommy, that’s not funny,” she immediately spat out, wriggling backwards and frantically swiping her hands down on the red striped white of her gym socks, staining the elasticated border.

She’d had the same ones pulled up around her calves on the morning she got the call, sixteen years old and hand clutching the receiver like it’d been super glued that way, unable to feel real enough to be able to use her limbs yet.

“It’s kind of funny,” said the voice, and she could almost hear his grin in it. How not a single tooth was crooked. The way it caught a glare like the flash of an old camera, so white you had to blink a few times to acclimatise.

“It isn’t, Tommy. It isn’t, you just always had a shitty sense of humour. It isn’t funny,” Lana insisted, and when she did, the mist seemed to part around her feet. Then her thighs. Then her shoulders. Then, in a blink, the entire sky was raining except for on her. “Can’t I see your face, instead?”

“This is the last way I was, though. I can’t do anything about that, and neither can you.”

Tugging her knees to her chest, Lana perched her chin on top as she hugged them close.

“He doesn’t let me say your name, you know.”

It went without saying that she was talking about her brother Caleb.

The air seemed to go colder, at the thought of him alone. Like Tommy could sense how sad he was, without him, and he didn’t know what else to do about it other than shiver.

“I know.”

Lana wasn’t sure when it happened, but the sea had risen enough that she could stretch a toe and soak the end of her sock with it. Doing so felt like someone had spooned a clump of clotted cheese on top of her foot, weighed down slightly with the water, but she didn’t mind. If she shut her eyes again, extra tight, she could pretend it was Tommy clutching it inside of a big hand. He’d done that, once, when he was trying to tickle a laugh out of her. She’d accidentally bucked her leg out like a wild donkey and clipped him in the side of the head.

It was one of her favourite memories to live inside.

“I want to say it, sometimes. I want--…” The words felt like crushed glass that she was trying to hack up out of her throat. Like she’d have to spit them out in pieces, with her lips left shredded in the aftermath. Stringing down her chin. “I want to say that I miss you, too.”

“I know,” the voice said again, slightly softer this time. “I know you do.”

Small smile perking her lips at the edges, Lana cleared her throat. Doing so turned on a few stadium spotlights around her, heat boring down like a Hollywood set for a scene that was meant to be sunny. It wasn’t quite natural, though. It didn’t feel warm.

“What did you ask me, earlier? I can’t remember. But I’ll answer, now. I’ll answer, now that it’s you.”

“Knew you had a crush on me.”

Spluttering out a laugh, Lana’s eyes shot open and she flung a glare around her, at no fixed point in particular.

“Shut up, I did not!”

“You did, but it’s cool. A lot of people did. I was sort of a catch, that way.”

Lana rolled her eyes but hugged her knees a bit tighter. She wanted to say something funny, to say that she might have missed him, but she didn’t miss how much he was full of it, but her tongue wouldn’t let her lie.

The truth was, she missed all of it. Even the bad bits. Even the bits that got him in trouble.

“Yeah, you were. Think--… Think Caleb always thought so, too.”

The mist stilled.

Then, the voice answered back.

“We don’t talk about that. You know he can’t, yet.”

“I know,” she replied -- her turn to repeat the phrase, this time. “Yeah, I know.”

“What is it that you want, Lana?” There was a long pause, stretching on forever like a tireless string of elastic, until eventually the voice snapped back and pinged her on the nose. “That was the question. You said you’d answer it.”

Sinking down onto her back, Lana gently pressed the back of her head against the water’s surface, scalp tingling with the fresh onset of cold. She couldn’t see it, but where she’d touched the water, it had started to ripple out shadows, tinting the entire surface for as many miles as the eyes could see.

Darker and darker.

Darker and darker.

No matter how brightly the stadium lights blared.

“I want… to close doors at night, and have Caleb open them the next morning. I, um… I want to wash my hands and feel like they’re clean, you know? I want to forget about all the things they’ve touched. Just once. I want… I want Zeke’s brain to get better, like magic. I want to wave a special wand, that’s, like… red, with a gold star on the end, and have it undo everything. Everything bad I’ve ever done. And I--... I want Teddy to be happy, and I want it to be--... I want it to feel okay. I want it to feel okay, that he’s never going to be happy with me.”

Stretching a hand up into the air above her, Lana dappled fingertips through the layer of mist that marked her own personal barricade. She stirred through the damp like she was sifting through sand, searching for a special piece that she’d only know when she saw it.

The most Tommy piece.

The piece that used to come together with a hundred others, before they were all blown apart into thousands.

The bits that made his hands.

“I think I want to feel clean, or something. I’ve never really felt that clean.”

“Maybe other people are the dirty ones. Maybe that’s the problem.”

“No,” she answered a little too fast, swallowing something down that felt rigid and round, as hard in her throat as a fallen acorn. “No, that isn’t it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Lana shot right back, hand still drifting to test the mist’s texture like she was intent on making something whole out of what was left. Like she wouldn’t stop searching, until she’d found him.

“You’re not telling me what you really want. I think you know that.”

Her eyebrows pinched; expression indignant.

“I’m not lying.”

“No, I know you’re not. You don’t do that, a lot, you just skirt around the truth. You admit smaller ones, that hurt less. Give people an inch so they won’t take a mile.”

“Feed a scrap to a stray dog so it won’t eat your entire arm,” Lana provided another explanation, small smile unfurling like a clenched fist that had finally gone loose. “I don’t know how you do that. You always, like… You see everything. You always did.”

“Yeah, Lana,” the voice spoke again, sounding a little sad to be doing it at all. Like he was waning, slightly. Like she was about to wake up. “I saw everything. I think Caleb did, too. And I think you know that, but you don’t want to admit it. Because then, it was real. Then, it really happened.”

Arms laid flat either side of her on an ocean that had turned entirely black, Lana revelled in the wet licking up her elbows, her knuckles, ankles, backs of the knees, spine. Any part that she’d given over to the water.

“You’re scared.”

“God,” Lana exhaled suddenly, wrenched upright so that she could sit and stare, talking to the air like a wire in her brain had been pried loose, if anyone else was watching. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“You’re scared,” the voice repeated, making something inside of her squirm.

“I get it.”

“No, I don’t think you do. You’ve always been scared.”

“Okay. Okay! Okay, I get it. I get it, Tommy, I’m scared. I’m scared. Is that what you wanted me to say? I’m scared. It’s--… It’s fine for you, isn’t it?” came as she threw a glance around, watching the way the red mist wobbled, unsettled by the gust of a strong breeze. The sun was only a few globs away from setting. A thumbprint next to her hip bone had been worn straight through, burnt away with a drop of liquid sun until you could have leaned close and pressed your eye to it, stared through like it was a stone cut looking glass or a pirate’s telescope. “It’s fine for you, because you’re not here. It’s fine for you, because you’re just gone. You just get to float, and you don’t even have to--… You don’t even have to do anything, because you’re just gone. Do you, like…” trailed off, exasperated breath escaping. “Do you get what it’s like, being here?”

“I know, Lana. I get it.”

“You don’t. You took him with you, you know. You took him with you, and I’m here on my own. And people--… People are bad, all the time. People are bad, and I’m on my own. I’m--… I’m on my own.”

“I know.”

Hugging her knees close again, Lana clenched her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to look at any of it. Not the gumdrop sun that was seconds away from collapsing. Not the black ocean she was sitting on without sinking. Not the red mist that a piece of live ammunition had detonated Tommy into as soon as he set foot on top of it.

It felt like a long time before she spoke, again.

“Can we just… Can you just stay, a little while? Just until I wake up. I just like… I just like to hear your voice, I think. I think I just like to hear your voice.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Lana. You know it doesn’t. You’re going to wake up, soon.”

Staying extra still like the slightest jostle would make it true, Lana kept her eyes squeezed shut, so tight that she was sure her corneas were about to burst, explode with juice like a grape beneath the heel of a socked foot.

“I would’ve spat in Danny’s shitty little face, you know,” the voice mumbled, retreating up to the sky again like a bird due south for winter, setting course for a long hibernation. He sounded amused, at the thought, until suddenly, when he next spoke, he didn’t. “I would’ve been there.”

“I know,” Lana whispered, eyes still closed as her lips muffled against the caps of her knees, held close and so tight that her elbows were starting to tremble. “I know, but I need to wake up now, right? I know, but you weren’t. You aren’t.”

“Yeah,” Tommy answered, barely audible above the howl of the wind that was swallowing him whole. Blowing the mist away, where she couldn’t keep touching it.

The sun had melted.

The ocean was black.

The sky was painted blue.

“Yeah, you need to wake up.”

[thecloserkin]

fic rec (2/2): I Don’t Hear the Church Bells Chime Anymore Part by Noccalula (Part 1 is here)

They present themselves at the Hydra compound to volunteer as human guinea pigs. This is their last, best shot at taking down Tony Stark and his “imperialist death machine.”

Both of them were iron deficient, running light fevers, and dehydrated to the point that they were immediately given IV fluids. The first few weeks were nothing but antibiotics and lightning rounds of samples and examinations as the medical team worked to ensure that the twins were at least coming to a safe point to begin working on gaining weight and exercising; Pietro could not aptly put into words what it did for his heart to watch the sallowness in Wanda’s skin disappear, her eyes brighten again

almost makes you think their freedom a small price to pay for being restored to to peak health doesn’t it

but that autonomy had been the first thing they were informed that they would be signing over.  Wanda had reached down to lay her hand across her brother’s, which lay across her thigh, and gave it a soft squeeze before she put pen to paper and quite literally signed her life away before handing him the instruments to do the same.

have any of you guys ever signed a cell phone carrier contract? or bought anything online from any merchant at all? or opened any kind of bank or credit card account? nobody actually reads the fine print — maybe you’ve seen the video of the voice actor who was hired to read Amazon Kindle’s TOS front to back and it took him 8 hours — but how much of that autonomy that Pietro and Wanda value so much was illusory? Even if they’ve never had a cell phone? …. Sure, we’re free to sign these one-sided impenetrable legalese contracts or walk away, but how do you function as a person in the modern world without signing them? You don’t have to worry about affording a lawyer to decipher them for you, since most of them include mandatory arbitration clauses to prevent you getting your day in court, or god forbid bringing a class action suit against the corporation. There’s no overt coercion going on but it’s not much of a negotiation when one party is holding all the cards. In the previous chapter Pietro and Wanda observed that they didn’t have a choice, really, and here the “choice” to sign their rights away is a farce of freedom. Capitalism is fucking depressing let’s move on to a lighter subject aka sexytimes:

So many of the things that Pietro was dying to do were still logistically tricky but it didn’t stop him from whispering them to her in the dead of night, his lips against her ear or the back of her neck just like old times as she heaved soft sighs, her back pressed against his chest. If they were covert enough, sex could pass for spooning or cuddling when the nurses passed by, shining muted lights into the room to ensure no one had gone awol. Somehow, the thrill of possibly being caught and the shame of just how forbidden the act was became part of the appeal for Wanda.

This is my jam: Sex that passes for spooning? Yesssss. The thrill of being caught? Hell yes. The taboo heightening the hotness? Sign me the fuck up. Can you imagine how wet she got when he whispered all the things he wanted to do to her? And the herculean struggle to stay quiet, to not tip off the nurses, damn I need a shower.

So Wanda gets her period after five years of being too undernourished to get it and the way it happens is the two of them wake up in a pool of blood which ofc freaks them the fuck out THEN when Pietro starts lifting weights without a shirt on there are all these scratches on his back from Wanda’s nails and the doctor who is no one’s fool decides Wanda needs to go on birth control asap. THEN the experimentation begins in earnest and the they insist on separating the twins afterward — these are Herr Strucker’s instructions. Nobody, no other subjects so far, has survived the second round of treatments.

”Now, most of Mengele’s experiments on twins were utterly worthless,” Von Strucker continued … “Because he was not interested in science - he was interested in torture … But we, doctors, are not interested in torture, no. And we noticed very quickly that there was one thing that Mengele missed, His research suggested that twins were more likely to survive lethal experimentations for longer if they were reunited after a separation.”

This is sO cReEpy — no we are doctors we are not torturers we are doing this for SCIENCE ok. It’s little wonder Strucker didn’t miss a beat when the true nature of the twins’ intimacy came to light: he saw it as something he could use. Their soul-deep bond would give him the leverage to fashion them into the perfect weapons. And spoiler alert, they survive! Pietro zips around super fast! Wanda can read minds now!

Though Pietro posed the more immediate physical threat, everyone was markedly more afraid of Wanda. This was something Pietro was almost visibly proud of.

There is a very specific kind of competency porn where one member of your OTP is just bursting with pride at the other member of your OTP doing something superbly well and this is a prime example of that, this is Pietro Maximoff telling these bitches to fuck off because look at my sister she is a telepathic reality-warping witch. (I just rewatched Firefly and the scene in “Ariel” where Simon breaks character in the middle of a hospital heist to save a random patient’s life and River just looks at him is also a prime example of this trope.)

“Superheroes.” The word felt disgustingly capitalist on Wanda’s tongue.

I am crying haha because this is so true. Isn’t the superhero story par excellence about a human with extra-special abilities accomplishing extraordinary things rather than, say, a bunch of regular schmucks building collective power through solidarity? One of the things I love about this fic is the fact that the people who work for Hydra, from Strucker down to Doctor Bellato and Istvan, are none of them evil people. They commit evil deeds, to be sure, but they are working within a system which greatly constrains their array of choices.

They could run forever – he could run forever, with Wanda in his arms. But he knew there was still a growling, raging thing in the pit of his heart that lived in Wanda’s as well, and that thing would not know satisfaction until it knew justice.

This is a very good, succinct account of what drives the twins. Justice is what propels them forward day by day but it is also, I think, what drives them to be together in the romantic sense, because I am not sure if, in a universe where Sokovia remained at peace, the Maximoffs would turn to each other. I think the shared trauma was a necessary precondition to the incest. Fight me but that’s my reading of their characterization in this particular fic, not applicable generally, and god knows I haven’t read any of the comics.

Wanda and Pietro had carried nothing from the old life but one another and fistfuls of nightmares, scars that would never fade and wounds that would never heal save but for through one another.

There is a whole chapter that is like, just the two of them holing up in a hotel and screwing each other’s brains out. A well-deserved interlude, kids. (Well-deserved for me the reader as well, I hasten to add I thought it was a real treat.) There’s a mural erected by some of their erstwhile comrades from the anarchist commune, titled “Long Live the Maximoffs” because they are now apparently the face of the (failed? stalled?) revolution. You know, every time I read the twins’ internal monologue repeating that old “we came into this world together and we’ll leave it together” aphorism it’s like twisting a knife in my heart. Of course it never occurs to them only one of them will die, and the other will have to learn to live without him.

The ultimate betrayal of Wanda’s heart was that the damned thing continued to beat without him.

And there it is. Not to take anything away from Vision but Pietro was the love of her life, thanks for coming to my ted talk. Thanks for joining me in combing through one of my favorite fics of all time and enumerating all the 987654321 reasons I loved it, and thanks to @noccalula-writes for the gift of this brilliant story.

[213hiphopworldnews]

All The New Albums Coming Out In September 2018

iStock

Keeping track of all the new albums coming out in a given month is a big job, but we’re up for it: Below is a comprehensive list of the major releases you can look forward to in September. If you’re not trying to potentially miss out on anything, it might be a good idea to keep reading.

Friday, September 7

Adult. — This Behavior (Dais Records)

The Alex Skolnick (Alex Skolnick of Testament) — Conundrum (Palmetto+)

Alvaro Soler — Mar De Colores (Sony Music Entertainment Inc.)

Amnesia Scanner — Another Life (PAN)

Ava Luna — Moon 2 (Western Vinyl)

Ben Danaher — Still Feel Lucky (Soundly Music, LLC)

Ben Fisher — Does The Land Remember Me? (Treleven Music)

The Blaze — Dancehall (Columbia Records)

Boston Manor — Welcome To The Neighbourhood (Pure Noise Records)

C418 — Excursions (self-released)

Cauldron — New Gods (The End Records)

The Chairman Dances — Child Of My Sorrow (Black Rd)

Chilly Gonzales — Solo Piano III (Gentle Threat Ltd.)

Chris Liebing — Burn Slow (Mute Records)

Church Girls — Home EP (self-released)

Dan Koshute — All The Way Always (Magna Persona)

Donna Missal — This Time (Harvest Records)

DOWNPOUR (members of Shadows Fall and Unearth) — DOWNPOUR (self-released)

Elijah Wolf — On The Mtn Laurel Rd (Old Flame Records)

Eric Bachmann (of Archers Of Loaf) — No Recover (Merge Records)

Escape-ism (Ian Svenonius) — The Lost Record (Merge Records)

Ferry Corsten and Saad Ayub — Synchronicity (Flashover Recordings)

Future Thieves — Future Thieves (self-released)

Gamblers — Corinthian Order (Gamblers)

Ghostland Observatory — See You Later (Trashy Moped)

Ginla — Codex (Terrible Records)

Gold Star — Uppers & Downers (Autumn Tone Records)

ITAL TEK — Bodied (Planet Mu)

JEFF The Brotherhood — Magick Songs (Dine Alone Records)

Jesse And The Dandelions — Give Up The Gold (self-released)

Jesse Harris — Aquarelle (Secret Sun Recordings)

Joep Beving — Conatus (Deutsche Grammophon)

Joey Purp — Quarterthing (self-released)

Joey Sweeney & The Neon Grease — Catholic School (Burnt Toast Vinyl)

Judy Blank — Morning Sun (Munich Records)

Kandace Springs — Indigo (Capitol Records)

Kathy Mattea — Pretty Bird (Captain Potato)

Kevin Harrison & True North — Howl (self-released)

Kilo Kish — MOTHE EP (self-released)

KINGCROW — The Persistence (The Laser’s Edge)

Kito — HAANI EP (Bimyou)

LA CHNGA — Beyond The Sky (Small Stone Records)

La Force (Ariel Engle of Broken Social Scene) — La Force (Arts & Crafts)

Lenny Kravitz — Raise Vibration (BMG Rights Management (UK) Limited)

LIINKS — Ridge Road (Westwood Records)

Macy Gray — Ruby (Artistry Music)

MAJOR. — Even More (EMPIRE)

Maribou State — Kingdoms In Colour (Counter Records)

Mike Farris — Silver And Stone (Compass Records Group)

Milo Greene — Adult Contemporary (Nettwerk Records)

Mirah — Understanding (Absolute Magnitude Recordings)

mmph — Serenade EP (Tri Angle)

MNEK — Language (Virgin EMI Records)

The Molochs — Flowers In The Spring (Innovative Leisure)

The Mommyheads — Soundtrack To The World’s End (Dead Frog Recrods)

Morne — To The Night Unknown (Armageddon Label)

Mothers — Render Another Ugly Method (ANTI‐)

Nashville Pussy — Pleased To Eat You (earMUSIC)

New Reveille — The Keep (Loud & Proud Records)

The Night Game — The Night Game (Interscope)

Nile Rodgers And Chic — It’s About Time (Virgin EMI Records)

The O’Mys — Tomorrow (self-released)

Papadosio — Content Coma (self-released)

Paul Carrack — These Days (Carrack UK)

Paul McCartney — Egypt Station (Capitol Records)

Paul Simon — In The Blue Light (Legacy Recordings)

Pig Destroyer — Head Cage (Relapse Records)

Pile — Odds And Ends (Exploding In Sound Records)

Pohgoh — Secret Club (New Granada Records)

The Primals — All Love Is True Love ((RED) Southern Lord)

Rae Spoon — Bodiesofwater (Coax Records)

Rebecca & Fiona — Art Of Being A Girl (Stereo Stereo)

Renée Fleming — Broadway (Decca Classics)

Rudimental — Toast To Our Differences (Atlantic Records UK)

Russ — Zoo (self-released)

Ruston Kelly — Dying Star (New Rounder)

Say Hi — Caterpillar Centipede (Euphobia Records)

Seasaw — Big Dogs (self-released)

Sauna Youth — Deaths (Upset The Rhythm)

Shannen Moser — I’ll Sing (Lame-O Records)

Spiral Deluxe (featuring Jeff Mills) — Voodoo Magic (Axis Records)

Spiritualized — And Nothing Hurt (Fat Possum Records)

St. Paul & The Broken Bones — Young Sick Camellia (RECORDS, LLC)

Steven A. Clark — Where Neon Goes To Die (Secretly Canadian)

Stoned Jesus — Pilgrims (Napalm Records)

The Stray Birds — Let It Pass (Yep Roc Records)

Stoned Jesus — Pilgrims (Napalm Records)

The Stryker Brothers — Burn Band (Scriptorium Rex)

Sudakistan — Swedish Cobra (PNKSLM Recordings)

Suicidal Tendencies — Still Cyco Punk After All These Years (Suicidal Records)

Suicideboys — I Want To Die In New Orleans (G59 Records)

Super City — Sanctuary (self-released)

Swamp Dogg — Love, Loss And Auto-Tune (Joyful Noise Recordings)

Teksti-TV 666 — Aidattu Tulevaisuus (Svart Records)

Teleman — Family Of Aliens (Moshi Moshi Records)

Tom Freund — East Of Lincoln (Surf Road)

Tuomo & Markus — Dead Circles (Grand Pop)

Waxahatchee — Great Thunder (Merge Records)

Yotto — Hyperfall (Anjunadeep)

Friday, September 14

Ace Clark — Black Privilege (self-released)

Active Bird — Amends (Barsuk Records)

Alejandro Escovedo — The Crossing (Yep Roc Records)

Alex Clare — Three Days At Greenmount (ETC Recordings)

Ann Wilson (of Heart) — Immortal (BMG)

Aphex Twin — Collapse (Warp)

Art Thieves — Russian Rats (State Line Records)

Asleep At The Wheel — New Routes (Bismeaux Records)

The Band Of Heathens — A Message From The People Revisited (BOH Records)

Ben Poole — Anytime You Need Me (Manhaton Records)

Beta Radio — Ancient Transition (Nettwerk Records)

Billy Moon — Punk Songs (Missed Connection Records)

Black Belt Eagle Scout — Mother Of My Children (Saddle Creek)

Blanca — Shattered (Word Records)

Bob Moses — Battle Lines (Domino Recording Company)

Bosse-de-Nage — Further Still (The Flenser)

Brandon Coleman — Resistance (Brainfeeder)

Brant Bjork (of Kyuss) — Mankind Woman (Heavy Phych Sound Records)

Calvin Valentine — Keep Summer Safe (Mello Music Group)

Capital Punishment (Ben Stiller’s high school band) — Roadkill (Reissue) (Captured Tracks)

Carrie Underwood — Cry Pretty (Capitol Records Nashville)

Cedric Burnside — Benton County Relic (Single Lock Records)

The Chills — Snow Bound (Fire Records)

Coming Soon — Sentimental Jukebox (Kidderminster)

Conan — Existential Void Guardian (Napalm Records)

Dad Brains — Dad Brains EP (self-released)

David Guetta — 7 (What a Music LTD)

David Nail And The Well Ravens — Only This And Nothing More (One Five Sound)

Dilly Dally — Heaven (Dine Alone Records)

The Dirty Nil — Master Volume (Dine Alone Records)

Dream Child — Until Death Do We Meet Again (Frontiers Music)

Dunbarrow — Dunbarrow II (RidingEasy Records)

Emma Louise — Lilac Everything (Liberation Records)

Emma Ruth Rundle — On Dark Horses (Sargent House)

Erik Deutsch — Falling Flowers (LoHi Records)

Exploded View — Obey (Sacred Bones Records)

Fatherson — Sum Of All Your Parts (Easy Life Records)

Film School — Bright To Death (Cobraside Records)

Fit For A King — Dark Skies (Solid State Records)

Fred Thomas — Aftering (Polyvinyl Record Co.)

Future Generations — Landscape (Frenchkiss Records)

Gareth Sager & The Hungry Ghosts — Juicy Rivers (Creeping Bent)

Good Charlotte — Generation Rx (BMG Rights Management (US) LLC)

The Goon Sax — We’re Not Talking (Wichita Recordings)

Grave Digger — The Living Dead (Napalm Records)

Guerrilla Toss — Twisted Crystal (DFA Records)

Hawkwind — Road To Utopia (Cherry Red Records)

He Arrived By Helicopter — The Shiny Hostel (Very Special Recordings)

The Holydrug Couple — Hyper Super Mega (Sacred Bones Records)

Howard — Together Alone (Fashion People)

Infernal Coil — Within A World Forgotten (Profound Lore Records)

Jack Drag — 2018 (Burger Records)

Jean-Michel Jarre — Planet Jarre (Columbia Records)

Jóhann Jóhannsson — Mandy OST (Lakeshore Records)

Jonathan Scales Fourchestra — PILLAR (Ropeadope)

Juiceboxxx — Never Surrender Forever EP (Dangerbird Records)

Jump, Little Children — Sparrow (self-released)

Jungle — For Ever (XL Recordings)

Knife Knights (Ishmael Butler and Erik Blood) — 1 Time Mirage (Sub Pop)

Lawrence — Living Room (self-released)

Leland And The Silver Wells — Leland And The Silver Wells (self-released)

Living With Lions — Island (No Sleep Records)

Lonely Parade — The Pits (Buzz Records)

Low — Double Negative (Sub Pop)

Loudon Wainwright III — Years In The Making (StorySound Records)

Lyrics Born — Quite A Life (Mobile Home Recordings)

Malcolm Holcombe — Come Hell Or High Water (Gypsy Eyes Music)

Medeski Martin & Wood with Alarm Will Sound — Omnisphere (Indirecto)

Monster Truck — True Rockers (Dine Alone Records)

Night Shop — In The Break (Woodsist)

North Americans — Going Steady (Driftless Recordings)

Old Faith — Old Faith (Refresh Records)

Ominous Eclipse — Sinister (NONE)

Orbital — Monsters Exist (ACP Recordings Ltd)

Pale Waves — My Mind Makes Noises (Dirty Hit)

Paul Weller — True Meanings (Parlophone)

PYREXIA — Unholy Requiem (Unique Leader Records)

Richard Thompson — 13 Rivers (New West Records)

Saint Slumber — Youth//2 EP (Kingless Co. Records)

Sandro Perri — In Another Life (Constellation Records)

Sextile — 3 EP (Felte)

Shortly — Richmond EP (Triple Crown)

Sleaford Mods — Sleaford Mods EP (Rough Trade Records)

Slothrust — The Pact (Dangerbird Records)

Snakes In Paradise — Step Into The Light (FRONTIERS RECORDS)

Sons Of Raphael — A Nation Of Bloodsuckers EP (Because Music)

Spirit Of The Beehive — Hypnic Jerks (Tiny Engines)

Steven Page (of Barenaked Ladies) — Discipline: Heal Thyself, Pt. II (Warner Music Canada)

Thrice — Palms (Epitaph Records)

Tony Bennett and Diana Krall — Love Is Here To Stay (Verve Label Group)

The Trews — Civilianiares (MapleCore Ltd.)

Uriah Heep — Living The Dream (FRONTIERS RECORDS)

We Were Promised Jetpacks — The More I Sleep The Less I Dream (Big Scary Monsters Recording Company)

Willie Nelson — My Way (Legacy Recordings)

Friday, September 21

A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie — The International Artist (Atlantic Records)

Adam’s House Cat (Drive-By Truckers) — Town Burned Down (ATO Records)

Advance Base — Animal Companionship (Run for Cover Records)

Amy Helm — This Too Shall Light (Yep Roc Records)

Anthony Roth Costanzo — ARC (Universal Music Classics)

Bad Moves — Tell No One (Don Giovanni Records)

Beak> — >>> (Invada Records)

Billy Gibbons (of ZZ Top) — The Big Bad Blues (Concord Records, Inc.)

Bitchin Bajas — Rebajas (Drag City)

The Blinders — Columbia (Modern Sky Entertainment)

Brooks Thomas — Poison (Hornblow Recordings)

Carl Broemel (of My Morning Jacket) — Wished Out (Stocks In Asia)

Christine And The Queens — Chris (Because Music)

Dragonlord (Eric Peterson of Testament) — Dominion (Universal Music Oy)

Drew McDowall — The Third Helix (Resident Advisor)

Elysian Fields — Pink Air (Microcultures)

The Field — Infinite Moment (Kompakt)

Greg Laswell — Next Time (Vanguard)

Human People — Butterflies Drink Turtle Tears (Exploding In Sound Records)

Hypoluxo — Running On A Fence (Broken Circles)

Joe Bonamassa — Redemption (J&R Adventures)

Jonathan Goldberger, JP Schlegelmilch, And Jim Black — Visitors (Skirl Records)

Josh Groban — Bridges (Reprise Records)

Joyce Manor — Million Dollars To Kill Me (Epitaph Records)

The Last Bison — SÜDA (AntiFragile Music)

Lonnie Holly — MITH (Jagjaguwar)

Macy Gray — Ruby (Artistry Music)

Mandy Barnett — Strange Conversation (Dame Productions)

Mount Eerie — (after) (P.W. Elverum & Sun)

Mountain Man — Magic Ship (Nonesuch Records Inc.)

Mutual Benefit — Thunder Follows The Light Out (Transgressive)

The Paper Kites — On The Corner Where You Live (Wonderlick Entertainment)

Piles — Una Volta (Aagoo Records)

Plainride — Life Of Ares (Ripple Music)

Prince — Piano & A Microphone 1983 (Warner Bros. Records)

Richard Reed Parry (of Arcade Fire) — Quiet River Of Dust Vol. 1 (ANTI‐)

Ryan Hemsworth — Elsewhere (Last Gang/Secret Songs)

Same Girls — Young Minded (Text Me Records)

Say Lou Lou — Immortelle (á Deux/Cosmos Music)

Sha La Das — Love In The Wind (Dunham Records)

Sigala — Brighter Days (Ministry of Sound Recordings)

Slash featuring Myles Kennedy & The Conspirators — Living The Dream (Snakepit Records)

Sobrenadar — y (Absent Fever)

St. Lucia — Hyperion (Columbia Records)

Subways On The Sun — Capsize (Spartan Records)

Suede — The Blue Hour (Rhino Entertainment)

SUMAC — Love In Shadow (Thrill Jockey Records)

Summer Salt — Happy Camper (Epitaph Records)

Supersuckers — Suck It (Steamhammer)

Tahiti 80 — The Sunsh!ne Beat Vol.1 (Human Sounds)

Tiny Deaths — Magic (Handwritten Records)

Tor Miller — Surviving The Suburbs (Glassnote Records)

Transviolet — Valley EP (BMG)

Vessel Of Light — Woodshed (Argonauta Records)

Villagers — The Art Of Pretending To Swim (Domino Recording Company)

VOIVOD — The Wake (Century Media)

William Fitzsimmons — Mission Bell (Grönland Records)

Zula — New Years (Inflated Records)

Friday, September 28

79.5 — Predictions (Big Crown Records)

Against The Current — Past Lives (Fueled By Ramen)

Aizuri Quartet — Blueprinting (New Amsterdam Records)

Alexander Orange Drink (Alex Zarou Levine of So So Glos) — Babel On (Shea Stadium Records)

All Them Witches — ATW (New West Records)

alt-J — Reduxer (Infectious Music)

Amber Arcades — European Heartbreak (Heavenly)

Amy Ray — Holler (Compass Records)

Anti-Flag — American Reckoning (Spinefarm Records UK)

ATRAMENT — Scum Sect (Blood Harvest)

Bayside — Acoustic Volume 2 (Hopeless Records)

Beartooth — Disease (Red Bull Records)

The Black Lillies — Stranger To Me (Attack Monkey Productions)

The Black Queen — Infinite Games (The Black Queen)

BLOODTRUTH — Martyrium (Unique Leader Records)

Brother Reverend — The Tables Turn Too Often (self-released)

Cécile McLorin Salvant — The Window (Mack Avenue)

Cher — Dancing Queen (Warner Bros. Records)

The Crystal Method — The Trip Home (Tiny E Records)

Cypress Hill — Elephants On Acid (BMG)

Cumulus — Comfort World (Trans- Records)

Danielson — Snap Outtavit EP (Joyful Noise Recordings)

Deep Gold — Deep Gold (self-released)

Den-Mate — Loceke (Babe City Records)

Dillon Francis — Wut Wut (IDGAFOS)

DOE — Grow Into It (Big Scary Monsters)

Evilon — Leviathan (WormHoleDeath)

Exploded View — Obey (Sacred Bones Records)

Fat Tony — 10,000 Hours (Don Giovanni Records)

Four Seconds Ago (members of Periphery) — The Vacancy (Century Media Records)

Foxhole — Well Kept Thing (Burnt Toast Vinyl)

From The Bogs Of Aughiska — Mineral Bearing Veins (Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings)

Getter — Visceral (self-released)

GØGGS (featuring Ty Segall) — Pre Strike Sweep (In the Red)

Gouge Away — Burnt Sugar (Deathwish Inc.)

Hangman’s Chair — Banlieue Triste (Spinefarm Records UK)

Hater — Siesta (Fire Records)

Hippo Campus — Bambi (Transgressive)

Jay Som and Justus Proffit — Nothing’s Changed EP (Polyvinyl)

Jlin — Autobiography (Planet Mu)

John Butler Trio — Home (Nettwerk Records)

Jon Batiste — Hollywood Africans (Verve Records)

The Joy Formidable — AAARTH (Seradom)

Kojo Funds — Golden Boy (Atlantic Records)

Lala Lala — The Lamb (Sub Pop)

The Living End — Wunderbar (BMG)

Lucy Wainwright Roche — Little Beast (self-released)

Lydmor — I Told You I’d Tell Them Our Story (HFN Music)

Marissa Nadler — For My Crimes (Sacred Bones Records)

Mary-Elaine Jenkins — Hold Still (Good Child Music)

Mini Mansions — Works Every Time EP (Fiction Records)

Miss World — Keeping Up With Miss World (PNKSLM Recordings)

Mudhoney — Digital Garbage (Sub Pop)

NAVVI — Ultra (Hush Hush Records)

Onkel Tom — Bier Ernst (Steamhammer)

Ouri — We Share Our Blood EP (Ghostly International)

Palaye Royale — Boom Boom Room Side B (Sumerian Records)

Parquet Courts — Wide Awake! Remixes EP (Rough Trade)

People Museum — I Dreamt You In Technicolor (Girlie Action)

RALPH — A Good Girl (604 Records)

Restorations — LP5000 (Tiny Engines)

Rick And Morty Original Soundtrack (Sub Pop)

Rod Stewart — Blood Red Roses (Republic Records)

Roosevelt — Young Romance (City Slang)

Salopecia — Meanderthal (Hydra Head Records)

SCHAMMASCH — Contradiction (Prosthetic Records)

Seasick Steve — Can U Cook? (BMG)

Shigeto — Weighted EP (Ghostly)

Spain — Mandala Brush (Glitterhouse Records)

Spesh — Famous World (Killroom Records)

St. Lenox — Ten Fables Of Young Ambition And Passionate Love (Anyway)

Starset — Vessels 2.0 (Fearless Records)

Summer Salt — Happy Camper (Epitaph Records)

SUNFLO’ER — No Hell (Noise Salvation)

TAUK — Shapeshifter II: Outbreak (self-released)

Tilian Pearson (of Dance Gavin Dance) — The Skeptic (Rise Records)

Tim Cohen — The Modern World (Sinderlyn)

Tim Hecker — Konoyo (Kranky)

Tina Disco — Fastland (BMG)

Tom Petty — An American Treasure (Reprise Records)

Tommy And The Commies — Here Come… (Slovenly Recordings)

Tony Joe White — Bad Mouthin’ (Yep Roc Records)

Viagra Boys — Street Worms (YEAR0001)

VULCAIN — Vinyle (Season Of Mist)

VREID — Lifehunger (Season Of Mist)

Walking Dead On Broadway — Dead Era (Long Branch Records)

Wolfheart — Constellation Of The Black Light (Napalm Records)

Yumi Zouma — EP III (Cascine)

source https://uproxx.com/music/new-albums-coming-out-this-month-september-2018/

[astraphcbia]

Overprotective | A Peter Parker Imagine

Peter Parker x Reader requested by: @signethatsmelol (thanks for my first request!! hope you like it!) Words: 2,306 words TW: Knife tw Spoiler Free.

   You handed the cashier 14 dollars and 37 cents and thanked them as they handed you your paper bag filled with sour gummy worms and KitKats. It was movie night with Peter, and you were on sweets duty. He, of course, provided refreshments. You loved the way his soda would always explode on him because he swung the cans a little too much on his way home. He'd have to change his shirt and you, you know, just so happened to be standing in the hallway to see. A regular peeping tom. He never minded it. 

    As you walked outside you looked to your right to see a man that looked to be in poor shape health wise rushing toward you as you went to put your wallet in your pocket. He shoved you back into the door, the rail to push it open slamming into your spine. You winced from the pain, but let your overall disappointment in the situation take over as you kicked him right in the genitals. 

   "Now back off!" You yelled in his face, but when he stood back up from getting over the pain, there was a crazed look in his eyes that insisted he was going nowhere. He grabbed your pocket and shoved his hand in so hard it shifted your jeans on your hip. He then took off running. 

   That's when the regular hero of Queens swooped in and webbed the guys hand that was holding the wallet, taking it from him. Peter assumed the interaction was over. The desperate man's other hand, though, reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife which he then used to start swinging at Peter with. You rushed forward toward the escalating scene, but Peter webbed your feet to the ground. You started seething with anger. With desperation. 

   "Spider-Man!" You yelled, wishing you could scream his name. "Get me out of this! Now!" 

   But he didn't listen, he just continued dodging the attacks of the stranger until finally Peter dropped the wallet and pushed the man back to fall on the ground so he could web him up fully. 

   "Spider-Man, if you don't get me out of this web right now, so help me..." he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you out of the webbing and into the air.

  "Peter," you huffed, "I can't believe you did that." 

  "He stole your wallet, (y/n). I couldn't let him get away with that." He spoke to you without looking at you. Focused on the cars in the street and where he would land his next swinging web. 

   "It had a few coins and a gift card with 30 cents on it. I could've lived without it." You spoke through clenched teeth, wanted to wrestle away from his grip, but knew if you did you'd plummet to your death. "That man wasn't right. You put yourself in danger." 

   "What I can't believe is how no one else on the street tried to help you." He spoke like he hadn't even listened to you talk. He was so worried, so overcome with this primal protection that seemed hard wired into his brain. He couldn't think any other way. Peter had to protect you so much that when it was you or others, he subconsciously chose you. He loved you, but this wasn't the right way to do it. 

   After a moment of silence and listening to him grunt, the two of you landed on the roof of some business sky scraper. 

    Once the two of you were settled on the rooftop you shoved him away rather forcefully. "What were you thinking?" 

   He furrowed his eyebrows, tried to decipher this flair of anger that burned red beneath your cheeks. Usually that was reserved for when he caressed your skin, but this time he knew that he had done a big wrong. He pulled off his mask to properly look you in the eyes. 

   "Peter Parker. Answer me." You clenched your hands into fists at your side. 

   "You sound like Aunt May did when she found out my secret." He confessed, looking just below your eyes, like at your lips possibly, or your beet red neck. "She was so angry at me." 

   "She had a right to be, Parker, and so do I! Just because you're Spider-Man and we're dating, doesn't mean you have to interfere with everything. For gods sake Peter... I can't even walk down the street without you swooping in to yank me up and out of my life. I'm not helpless, there are hundreds of other people in Queens that need your help, hell. New York City needs you, Peter I can handle myself." 

   He swallowed so loudly that you heard his gulp, watched his fingers wring his mask. You were so angry that you hadn't even stopped to realize that what you were saying could be hurting his feelings, could be making him feel small. You had a right to let out those feelings, but maybe not as harshly as you did. 

   "Is that how you feel- how... how you've felt this whole time?" He steps forward toward you and you turn away, crossing your arms, looking ahead at the skyline of your town. 

   "Not the whole time. Just when you started stalking me. Just when you put others in danger to make sure no one tried to steal my wallet. You could've been cut with that knife, who knows how clean it was..." 

   "I want to keep you safe. If anything ever happened to you, because of me? I could never-" he took a deep breath, his words jumbled together. "I would never forgive myself. I thought I was doing right by you." 

   "Peter, I'm sure you thought you were doing what was right, you always do what you think is right and I adore you for that, but you put other people in danger. Don't you understand? You constantly try to save me, but I'm not some damsel in need of defending. You say you're worried that you'll be devastated if I'm hurt and it's your fault? Don't you think that by Spider-Man paying some random citizen extra attention that it's putting a giant target on my head?" 

   He was absolutely silent. Motionless. The color drained from his face and the only thing you wanted was for him to take that suit off and take you out for dinner. He didn't have to apologize, you had gotten everything out and made your point. "I didn't. No. I didn't know... (y/n)." He sputtered his words. 

   Watching him made the anger inside you very nearly boil over and slowly melt into something softer. You wanted to protect him from his own anxiety, his own guilt. You wanted to swoop him up out of this life carved for him by an arachnid and give him back his glasses you so loved. His lips parted like he was going to speak, but only a quiet sob was let out as gentle tears rolled over his pale cheeks. He never saw the sun, you'd never seen him cry. 

   "Oh, Peter..." You opened your arms and pulled him in close to you even though he was using his hands to cover his face. You brought him in and let him lean on you until you two were on your knees. You brushed back his hair and closed your eyes, his gentle sobs rocking you with him. 

   "I didn't know it was too much." He admitted, wiping away his tears. "I didn't see how I could be hurting you, or others by neglecting them. By deciding if you could handle things or not." 

   "I'm sorry I never told you." You whispered into the hair by his ear. He nodded and tilted his head to lean on your shoulder. He needed you, that was obvious. He needed you more than you needed Spider-Man and he knew it. He needed you safe, and alive or else who would be left in Queens to pour his deepest love into? 

   He thought you were spectacular. Peter was realistic about loving you, though. He didn't think you out the stars in the sky, but was pretty sure you had something to do with deciding how brilliantly they would shine. He loved doing the dishes with you, and Aunt May invited you over for dinner all of the time. Peter would go over chemistry notes with you and try to tell you corny jokes to make you blush while you were studying. He asked you out after four months of leaving runoff sentences in the hallway when you met between classes. When he asked, you kissed his cheek and told him you were tallying up the days until he got the nerve. He blushed so hard it made your heart rate rise. 

   When you told him jokes it was almost too much. He would show all of his teeth and close his eyes shut real tight so he looked like the sun itself. When you kissed his lips after he'd fallen asleep watching Stranger Things, and he only pulled you down to be the little spoon on the tiny sofa did you realize you were in love. This boy, this amazing boy was all yours, and you knew you loved Peter for everything he was. Spider-Man, a high schooler. Peter Benjamin Parker. Love of your young life. You couldn't stay mad forever. 

   The two of you stayed there without speaking. He listed to your heartbeat, you focused on his breaths. It made you start drifting to sleep until there was a loud crashing sound on the side of the building behind you. You yanked his mask out of his hand and forced it over his curly head of hair. It was the crazy-eyed man, but in a clunky metal suit. It had giant clawed arms to it that explained how he got to the rooftop. How had you not heard him? 

   Peter stood up and started shooting webs at the machined man to force it back, force him down, but with the machine's propelling motion, it broke the webs easily. Peter ran forward and slung a web to latch onto the chest area of the suit, jumping over him to force him back and off of the metal legs that's worked the new villain forward. 

   "What's your deal, man?" Peter sounded angry. Like really angry.

   "Nothing much. Just looking for a little revenge for my old pal Doc Oc. That man gave me all the drugs I could ever need, and they made me brilliant. And you? Well you made sure his medical license was revoked." He explained, not like you guys really cared. He's interrupted a tender moment and that made you furious. 

   "Revenge? That's pointless!" You yelled. "Do you know who he is?"

    "Oh yes," Metal Man cooed. "This is your boyfriend, little lady. That much is very clear." 

   "How did you know?" Peter asked, trying to web him down to the rooftop to no avail. Metal Man just tightened the tension on the legs of the suit and jolted the two of them upwards toward the sky. You screamed for Spider-Man but was pretty sure you said the wrong name. 

   "Spider-Man has a little preference toward which lady he saves on the regular. From what I've seen you've saved her from rats on the street. A little dirt never hurt a girl." 

   "How did you find us?" You yelled at him as he landed with Peter in his metal clasp, crushing him onto the rooftop. You were sure that someone below had to have heard. Had to have called someone to help. You were screaming profanities and threats that would've gotten you grounded for weeks by your grandma.

   "Well when I stole that wallet I knew the amazing Spider-Man would soon be after me to return it to his little girlfriend. He always has to save you, doesn't he?" 

   "Yeah! He does!" You yell over the clanking of metal. "And he's not about to stop now!" 

   When you said this Peter lifted the metal mans arms off of him, dove beneath the base of where the crazy eyed man sat and lifted the entire hunk of junk into the hair. 

   "What? You're just a kid!" The man yelled, panic riddling his voice as it became very clear that this man was suddenly out strengthened by Peter. 

   "No, I'm Spider-Man." Peter said triumphantly before slamming the contraption down into the roof so the legs were contained. Then he used a web to yank the criminal out of his seat to properly web him to the roof completely. No way he was escaping this time, and besides, there was a police helicopter approaching from the eastern side of the building right then and there. 

   "Shall we?" He said in a dashing voice. You laughed wholeheartedly before nodding and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

   When he hoisted the two of you into the air you lifted his mask to reveal his lips and gave him a gentle kiss. When you pulled away you saw a good sort of blush flood his cheeks. The color happily returning to this boy who shined like the sun. 

   "My hero..." you rolled your eyes and let yourself laugh with him as you two made your way home. "But if you ever web my feet to the ground again and I don't ask you to, I'll tell Aunt May that I stayed the night last week... and she'll know what I mean." 

   "Okay, (y/n). Anything you say." He said in a tone that was nothing but dreamy love. 

   "Another thing, I need some Advil. My back is messed up." You confessed with a wry smile. 

   "What!" Peter exclaimed. 

   "Don't worry. I can handle it." You smiled. 

   "I know you can."

[voltronbutheadcanons]

I've never seen this prompt around before: but what is each paladins embarrassing never-tell-anyone daydream about their crush? Like, who daydreams about epically saving their crush's life? Who daydreams about confessing their feelings with a suave kiss? We all do it, so what would each of the paladins be? The more embarrassing the better!

Ooh interesting! Embarrassing the Paladins is something I need to check off of my bucket list for sure! I’m secretly a sadist hue hue ~Mod Saffron

Shiro

Shiro may have control over his patience, but not over his wild mind. This man will create insane scenarios where you’re tied up (some cases, it’s shibari holy shit) and you’re calling out to him in a sweet voice to come and save you.

He’s running in slow motion, pulverizing droids in some weird dance with the craziest grin on his face. He’s coming for you, darling!

There is a weak version of Sendak and Zarkon standing beside, whimpering as he walks in the room. He punches them after they meekly ask him not to punch.

He fucking wrecks Haggar’s face rip

With a swoosh of his laser arm, your ropes are magically unbound from your wrists and ankles. You jump into his arms and swoon when he winks at you.

“Oh, Shiro~” you coo softly at him, as he zips you to his Black Lion, confetti blowing up behind him and the entire central command of the Galra empire explodes behind you.

He leans in for a puckering kiss when–

“Shiro? You okay?”

Agh shit he’s blushing. Was he puckering his lips? He was puckering his lips, Lance said, a bit disgusted.

You glance at him suspiciously. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head at his little slip-up. Good thing you don’t know about his dreams at night.

Keith

Think twice if you ever thought Keith simply daydreams about you. He fucking lives his imaginations. Oh, wanna know how? Here, sit child, let me explain:

When you train with him, your kicks and punches are different than his brain interprets. They are a dance of seduction, a mesmerizing art that captivates him day by day.

Yes, Keith is poetic when it comes to his feelings. He 100% blames Lance for his new dramatic phase.

He will also react differently when you’re charging at him. He doesn’t even notice your sword until the blade is 0.03 inches from his face. He will parry it at the last second.

He’s so embarrassed, like, why did he just picture you in a sleek onesuit, looking all sexy as you punch and kick at him? Tch, he’s so freaking pissed at himself.

But it’s his guilty pleasure. He’ll just randomly think about you during missions, during dinner, during his arguments with Lance. He will replace anything before him with an image of you.

You know how people say, “I’m in a room full of people, but all I see is you.”? Yeah, take that literally with Keith. The Paladins are all in the room and all he sees is your face onto their own, smiling at him sweetly.

He kinda hates you for it, but it’s not your fault. He hates that he loves you, he’s never had any of this happen before.

He will murmur “stupid temptress” after your training sessions. You’re very confused, but your alarm is up.

Lance

Sigh

Honey, have you met Lance? He is either a ladies’ man or a ladies’ worst nightmare. For the sake of this beautiful boy, we won’t go with the latter.

He knows how to flirt, he’s just choosing the worst people to do it with. Also, he has no limits? Yes.

He is the type to dream about confessing to you in the most dramatic and romantic way possible. Fireworks, dancers, and a mariachi band (where did he get that in space??) are essential to his confession. Maybe he’ll even get a searing kiss on his lips! for confessing! He’s so excited and nothing even happened!

But

He becomes scared that after all this, you will reject him sadly and walk away from the scene. Oh, God. He’d be a laughingstock forever. You two will never see each other the same way again. You’ll always be suspicious of him and then that suspicion will turn into hatred and then you’ll hurt him and he’s gonna cry and and—

Wait. You would never friendzone him. You’re not that type of person. You are sweet, adorable, and compassionate for others’ feelings. why was he having another panic attack for no reason?

He dreams about you confessing your love to him, and the both of you ride off into the sunset, with Keith throwing petals emotionlessly behind.

He plays the guitar for you on your wedding night (woah that escalated quickly) near a bonfire on a beachside.

Yeah, bless his exaggerated soul. He will never tell anyone about this…hobby of his. God forbid if Keith finds out.

Hunk

Honestly, this guy wouldn’t go as wild as the others with his fantasies. He’s more of a laid back kind of dude who just wants a peaceful interaction with his crush.

Hunk is a total sucker for romance. He’d probably dream about how they would both be dancing at a masquerade ball and you would lose your slipper, to which then he would put it back on for you and present you with a fresh batch of cookies.

Hunk would dream about making meals with you and your seven kids (yes, he wants kids okay). All kinds of delicacies would be invited to your table, such as pineapple pizza, ravioli with meat, and popcorn noodles.

He wants a baking fight with you. Throwing flour all around and then kissing you with a great fire in his heart.

He waltzes around the kitchen, stuck in his own thoughts and humming gently to himself. Lance caught him absently stroking a wooden spoon and whispering words of love to it.

Lance is never allowed into the kitchen again.

Pidge

You’re not sure how, but this girl has actually doodled some of her daydreams into her notebook and you accidentally stumbled upon it (literally). 

As you flipped through the pages, you saw that with each progressive page, the images keep getting dirtier and dirtier.

You saw handholding at first, then loving glances, then kisses, then makeout doodles, and then you saw actual consummation this girl horny af

She also has a thing for roleplay? Like prince/ princess?

Has considered making a robotic dildo for you to wear

Pidge often imagines touching you intimately during activites. If y’all are doing a project, she’ll want to “accidentally” collide chests with you somehow. Taking a walk? She’ll trip into your arms. Eating? Pidge will fucking make noodles appear in your pizza to reenact the Lady and the Tramp scene.

But after you caught her drawings and her puckered lips to the ceiling, Pidge will never daydream in public ever again.

Lance teases her for days about it and I don’t think his crotch area is okay to this day

RIP my boi lance

[electricdazemag]

Hello, I’m Sorry: Interview

by Tasha Bielaga

The sadboy party rock genre you’ve been missing is finally found, thank god. Seattle based indie pop/trash band Hello, I’m Sorry has been stirring up the Washington DIY scene for a little over 2 years. Songs like Good’s Not Great feature that panning of guitar lines between speakers, you know, the one’s that make your brain feel like it’s spinning when you listen to it with headphones. Vocalist Seth Little, drummer Paul Rhoads, and bassist Cam Richardson all live in Bellingham, WA, where their daily antics are filled with schoolwork and pestering their guitarist Alexander Henness, who lives south of Seattle, to come work on music. The band’s fuzz pop feels reminiscent of warm summer nights full of friends and basement gigs. It’s the embodiment of what goes on in most youth’s heads, set to a tune you can dance, or mosh, to. We talk about saying goodbye to Seth’s beloved 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee, the best cassettes printed to date, and their janky mic set ups, the epitome of DIY.

Electric Daze: How do you balance making music, working, and going to school?

Paul: School is the only reason I live in Bellingham actually, I’m from California. As much as I would love to just do music 100%, I’m paying a lot of money in tuition and I know what I’m studying, so a lot of my life is based around school. I always make time for music on the weekends though.

Seth: Music is the funnest thing for me, it’s what I enjoy doing the most. But, I am paying a lot of money to be here and should probably be putting more work into school. Whenever I have down time I always try to write something or be productive with my music.

Alex: I think it’s definitely worth it to find a good balance between everything. Since I drive up here all the time to play shows and hang with these guys, music is the most important thing that I want to spend my time doing when I’m not working.

ED: What was the first DIY house show you played that really pushed you to get into this scene?

Seth: We played the Karate Church in Bellingham with Roar Shack back in February of last year! It’s this church that, I don’t want to say renovated because it just looks like half of it got torn down on one side, but you know. There’s this basement part that has a dirt floor. That was definitely the first show where I was like “this is tight, this is such a cool DIY scene”

ED: You guys have obviously played a lot of different shows, from bars to house to dirt floor basements. What makes you want to keep pursuing the house show scene vs. a different approach?

It’s sweatier, they’re more fun! I’m a huge fan of the DIY scene. All the music we’ve recorded has been on laptops, and the DIY part just seems like people are always there more for the music. It’s a lot more intimate.

Are there any songs you particularly like to play live?

Bodies, Sleep by the Phone, Little Plan. People go wild to those. We played a house show with the band Cruise, and it got really crazy really fast. Somebody spilled FOUR LOKO on Alexander’s pedal board, SO sticky man. And then I was worried for the foundation of the house, I felt like I had to be a dad about it you know like “Yo! Let’s be safe out there!” and then give a thumbs up and play the next song.

You do so much releasing on cassettes, which is super tight! I saw there was a mini zine that came with one of them, what was the inspiration for that?

Our good friend Mimi Jaffe actually did those! She also did the cover art for Consolation Party, she’s one of my favorite artists in Bellingham. She did a page for each song and I printed them for the cassettes.

How was working on the Z-Tapes cassette compilation? How’d you get in on that and why’d you pick that song to cover?

Filip from Z-Tapes hit me up and originally wanted to put out some of our tapes, but he had a lot back ordered. I ended up putting ours out ourselves. Anyway, he asked if we wanted to cover a theme song to be included on this cover compilation, and I thought that was tight so we did. I originally wanted to do (Theme from) The Monkees, but it was taken. So I really dug deep and found this mini 70’s tv series that used a Sex Pistol’s cover of Eddie Cochran’s Somethin’ Else, and I thought ehh that technically works, so we covered it!

What’s your favorite cassette that you own?

Alex: There’s this rapper on Stone Throw Records named Koreatown Oddity, and he made a mixtape that’s him rapping from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air's perspective with these really late 90’s beats on it. It’s a 1/100 copy.

Seth: I’m really into The Replacements, but I’m not huge on the album “Don’t Tell A Soul”, but that album has a song titled “Asking Me Lies” that is Paul Westerberg’s attempt at a pop song and it’s SO awful and amazing at the same time, especially on cassette, so that’s my favorite right now.

Paul: When I was a little kid I had a cassette of The Lovin’ Spoonful that I used to listen to in the car, that’s probably my favorite.

ED: You guys did a west coast tour back in August. How do you feel the cities music scenes vary?

Well LA was hands down the best city we played it. They were very receptive to new music that they probably hadn’t heard before. We ended up meeting with mutual friends in most cities, which made the whole tour very cohesive, and not vary a lot surprisingly.

ED: Do you have a wild story from your tour?

OH! We bought a new car! This tour was very very DIY, we didn’t even rent a van. We had Paul’s 2009 Scion xB Box Car, that he just loves, and Seth’s 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee. On the way back up it was so cramped in the jeep, the engine light was flashing, and the gauges would go all the way up and then all the way back down, and we’re just thinking something’s wrong, something is terribly wrong. So we pulled over on the side off the road in Weed, California, and Seth found a dealership that would trade straight across. We get a 1999 Volvo cross country, and that car, was the worst car, in the entire world. It had a coolant leak, so we pulled over every 45 min from northern CA to Seattle, WA, to pour coolant in. At one point one of the covers for the headlights just flew straight off while we driving, and there was a huge semi truck that had exploded, so the drive just took forever.  We got into bed at 7am the next day.

ED: You guys have accomplished so many cool things in 2016, like playing with Together Pangea, playing EMP Sound Off, and more recently you played with TV Girl. What goals do you hope to accomplish this year?

Playing with bands that we really like is always a goal of ours. We also really want to play a festival this year. We’d love to do, you know, like, Coachella, hahaha. Touring again and more shows! We have to figure out how our summer’s going to look individually and then work around that.

ED: Good’s Not Great has 20,000 views on YouTube, and 107.7 has been spinning it lately, which is so cool. Were you expecting that song to kinda be your single and the one people listed to the most?

Seth: Honestly, no. When I recorded it, I recorded all the instrumentals and I was super hyped on it. Then I recorded the vocals and it just sounded fucking awful, I was like this song is the worst thing I’ve ever made in my entire life. I remember going “holy fuck, these vocals suck, I forgot that I can’t sing” and I was super depressed for like two days. And then I went in and redid the vocals and went “alright these are better, this song is passable now”.

ED: Do you have a specific writing process? I know you do a lot of half done demos, what’s the process for that like?

Seth: Yeah! I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a total tool, but recording for me is part of my writing process. I normally have a half baked idea and I go in, record it and work with it. I send a lot of small ideas to the rest of the guys and they’ll give me feedback on whether I should continue it or not, and that’s what drives my song writing.

ED: Do you do most of the song writing yourself then?

Seth: Yeah, I do almost all of the writing and recording. We always rework the song live though, and sometimes they end up having a completely different energy which I’m a huge fan of. What I’m trying to new with the new album is make demos and then play them and work through them as a band, and then re-record them to match what we do as a band.

ED: What’s your mic set up like? I know small bands always have the coolest (shittiest) mics.

Seth: The jankiest for sure! I have two mics that I use for recording, one’s a Sennheiser condenser mic, and I think the other is an Audio Technica that I use for vocals and drums, sometimes everything. Sometimes when we practice, I take a 1950’s ribbon mic and run it through a solid state 80’s fender amp with chorus on it for a while, because I didn’t have an amp that could take the xlr input. That was probably the jankiest situation.

Paul: Sometimes when I’d use a vocal mic, we’d string it over the rafters in the basement because we didn’t have another mic stand. So it would just kinda dangle in front of my face.

ED: How do you guys feel about music videos? Any plans to do some soon?

We’re doing a live recording of our set today with Bellingham Sound Check actually! That’ll be nice to have a video of how our songs sound live vs. what Seth records. As far as our own music videos, we’d like to do one for Good’s Not Great. We like to sit around and talk about what would be a cool video for each song.

ED: Is anyone a different kind of artist? Obviously you’re all musicians but is anyone acquainted with other forms of art?

Seth: I am definitely NOT.

Alex: I play soccer, and I think Soccer’s an art.

Paul: Well I’m in a jazz band! Which is still music, but a different kind.

Cam: I have a friend who lives in Texas who asks me for beats that he can rap over. So I send him some terrible beats to rap over.

ED: Would you ever make beats for Hello, I’m Sorry, maybe less lofi more terrible rap? If you had to cover a rap song, what would it be?

I feel like we could rap. We could cover Gangsta Gangsta, or definitely Rap Snitch Knishes. Maybe Mathematics by Mos Def but it would be hard. We could take a stab at it though! We’ll make a bad demo and follow up.

photo by Emma Hatwell

Connect with Hello, I’m Sorry on Instagram at @hello.imsorry and on Facebook here.

You can listen to their music on bandcamp at helloimsorry.bancamp.com and on Spotify here.

The cassette with the mini zine can be found here, and the ZTapes compilation here!

This is the first installment of features on Seattle based bands. Check back here soon to read the rest!

Check out Tasha’s work for the magazine here.