#oh switching gears back to the instrument thing!

[murdrdocs]

OH!! switching gears completely but i also think bobby has a thing for blood and biting bc.. well its right there in the movie I don’t think i have to explain it. like i imagine him being gentle with you usually, bc he doesn’t want to bring all of that violence home with him but one time ur making out and he bites on ur lip a lil too hard and draws blood and he likes the way you taste even better now

🙈

he absolutely does!

he doesn’t want to bring all of that violence home with him. that’s exactly it. when he kisses you, it’s usually tender. he likes to take his time with you, holding you delicately in fear that he’ll somehow hurt you.

then there comes a day where bobby just can’t hold back. you’re just so good to him, so good for him, and he needs to show his appreciation in ways that he knows how. he isn’t the most verbal person, but his body is an instrument. one he thought he knew how to play well.

unfortunately, he underestimated his strength and over enthusiasm, because kissing you quickly turned into devouring you. his hands touching whatever they could, pressing into your back and pulling along your hips. cupping your face or playing in your hair. and his lips were relentless, almost bruising your own with how eager he was kissing you.

he doesn’t really mean to, but he bites down. the kiss was too messy for him to even realize what he was doing, but as soon as the blood meets his tongue, his immediate instinct is to moan. he knows he should check up on you, and he does, but after he licks the wound until it’s as dry as it can get.

[yoonavii]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄

Chapter one

Paring: Miguel x F! Reader

Warnings: violence

A/n: want to read the chapters early? Read from my wattpad. It’s yayoona26

Story description: Distraught from the love betrayal your boyfriend bestowed upon you back on earth -929, you decided to destroy and tamper with his long life work of gear and experiments at Alchemax to get back a him. As you execute your revenge attempt, you came across green-like injections you used to take known as Rapture, and immediately relapsed. But unknowingly as you took multiple, you mistakenly injected one of your ex's rejected prototypes-an injection that can merge human DNA with animal DNA! Groaning and Stumbling as the prototype starts to kick in hard, you lean against a row of switches and buttons, soon setting them off and activating what looked like wormhole! Determined to leave everything behind now that you have no one and no where to live due to the break up, you took the risk and jumped in, not caring what you may get yourself into...

And oh how much you wish you never jumped in and met...

Him.

Tonight was the night you finally understood why people feared silence. Silence can kill you faster than words itself. Especially if you’re at Alchemax. Although the company was well known for its accomplishments in society as well as for the government, it had many faults from within. Liars, cheaters, addicts, the list goes on. In the past you could say that you never knew a colleague in the Research and development department that would fit those titles…but recently, your now ex boyfriend happens to fit all three. Your heart still aches from the recent betrayal, the sharp sting of deception lingering in your thoughts. As you recall the once inseparable bond you shared with him, images of stolen glances and secret smiles come flooding back, now tainted by the painful realization of his infidelity. The wounds of his betrayal are raw, fueling your determination for revenge. The cheater wasted years of your time. Instead of dealing with him, you could’ve been putting more time and effort in your own personal projects and discoveries.

  The building’s AC vents hummed and whined loudly as you walked down the hall with swiftness, soon making a sharp turn down the next hall. ‘You waste my time? Fine.’ You mumbled as you then made it to his lab, walking in. ‘Though, it’s only fair if I return the favor.... .hopefully I make you just as pissed off as I am. if not worse.’ 

As you step into the dimly lit laboratory, the air is heavy with the scent of chemicals and a faint hum of machinery fills the room. Glass beakers and vials line the shelves, containing vibrant liquids of various hues, their contents shimmering under the soft glow of overhead lights. Countless scientific instruments are scattered across the countertops, bearing witness to countless experiments he conducted within these walls. Just seeing such things angered you to the core—even more so that most of his equipment was organized and for the most part clean. Although he was scientifically intelligent, he had issues with cleaning on his own, hence, that's where you come in. You'd help him clean and organize his things just to help him out a bit since he works extreme long hours. But…you haven’t done so for a month. and he never cleans it on his own….

Oh….it was her.

 Overwhelming emotions surge through your veins, fueling a tempest within you. Anguish and anger intertwine as you find yourself standing in the heart of his lab, surrounded by the remnants of your shattered relationship. With each deliberate motion, you unleash your wrath upon his work. Glass shatters, equipment topples, and papers are torn apart, mirroring the shattered fragments of your heart. Amidst the chaos of the lab, your eyes lock onto a familiar jar of pills on a shelf labeled "Rapture." Its appearance triggers a wave of conflicting emotions. Memories of euphoria and bliss clash with the bitter aftermath of addiction. The pill represents both escape and danger, promising a respite from the pain of life while ensnaring you in its alluring grip.

 Taking a deep sigh, you untwist the jar and put your hand in, pulling a few out to take. But whilst of this, your eyes catch a glimpse of a vial tucked away in a forgotten corner. Intrigued by this, you went over towards it and opened its lid to see what was inside. It was an enigmatic pill of iridescent black that seemed to pulsate with an otherworldly energy. Unknowingly to you, this mysterious pill holds a sinister secret, ready to unleash its transformative power upon an unsuspecting host. “Eh…It shouldn’t be that bad. Maybe it’s a stronger dosage of rapture?”  You questioned yourself as you then gave it a try. As you chewed it down and took a hard swallow, an irreversible alteration began to take hold, merging the strands of your human DNA with that of a spider, bestowing upon you both wonders and perils. 

As the pill dissolves, the side effects follow suit.The effects of the unknown drug ripple through your body like an electric surge, an amalgamation of humanity and arachnid intricately become as one. You experience a heightened awareness of your surroundings, perceiving minute details with newfound precision. Your senses are both heightened and distorted, as the world becomes a symphony of sensations. The tingling of delicate spinnerets beneath your skin hints at the profound changes coursing through your veins. “What the…hell..is going on with…me” you groaned as you then stumbled forward bumping into something hard. You look up to see what it was and immediately back away.

It was the mistress.

you find yourself face to face with the mistress—the source of your pain and humiliation. There's something unsettling about her ease within the lab, as if she belongs there despite being a recent addition. Suspicion hangs in the air like a toxic cloud, intensifying your growing anger. “Well, well, well, look who we have here.” She said “I must say, I'm quite surprised to see you in the lab. I thought my new boyfriend made it quite clear that you’re banned from entering his lab.” Her words cut through the haze, taunting and antagonizing you with a cold, calculated precision. The weight of her accusations—assuming you knew of your banishment and claiming your relationship title—fills you with a mix of confusion, rage, and a nagging sense of truth. Driven by a potent blend of anger and the determination to reclaim your power, you push back against her taunts. You have to. “Banned or not, I won't let you and your deceit go under wraps!” You growled “You crossed the line!”  The woman smirks at your response “oh how noble of you. But do you honestly think you stand a chance against me? You’re just a jilted ex-lover with a grudge.” 

Fueled by adrenaline and anger, you grab the woman’s hair, yanking her backward. She shrieks in pain and fury “how dare you!” She hissed, as she swung her arms, attempting to free herself from your grip. “You’ll regret putting your hands on me!” A fierce struggle ensues as you continue holding onto the hair, refusing to let go. You both grapple with each other, bodies twisting and turning in a desperate dance of dominance. The lab echoes with grunts and the sound of scuffling feet.

With a surge of strength, the mistress retaliates, pushing against your chest and causing you to stumble backward. The force propels you greatly, your back slamming against the cold, hard wall. Pain shoots through your body. you try to summon the strength to retaliate, but your body refuses to cooperate. Helplessness washes over you, yet defiance glimmers in your eyes. The mistress, reveling in her moment of triumph, looks down at you with a wicked smile curling upon her lips as she messes with something resembling a watch. Her eyes gleam with a mix of amusement and sadistic pleasure, relishing in your suffering. “Do you know what’s interesting?” She spoke again “Parallel earths. Each with its own lives and possibilities. It’s a shame you won’t live long enough to explore each one.” 

Although your face contorted with pain, you managed a defiant smile. With a flicker of determination, you gather what little strength you had left and summon a mixture of saliva and blood in your mouth. With a forceful expulsion, you spit at the mistress’s face, the vile mixture finding its mark. “You may have your way now…” you said, voice strained yet filled with defiance “but not forever. I'm guessing you’re sending me to one? Do it. Anywhere else is better than this place. And I’ll live you idiot…and when I do, I’ll find a man that will stand by me and be my true ride or die.” The spit dribbles down the mistress’s face, a mixture of disgust and fury contorting her features. She wipes it away with a sneer, momentarily thrown off balance by the unexpected act of defiance. “You think love can save you? You’re delusional. I’m sending you to a place where love will be a distant memory, where nobody will find you or care about you.” You laugh loudly, despite the pain. “No you’re delusional becky.” You snapped back “Love has a way of finding its path even in the darkest corners. I will find a man, no, husband who will love me ten times better than the one that loves you!” laughter echoes through the lab, a testament to your resilience and unwavering spirit. Though battered and broken, you refused to succumb to the mistress’s cruel intentions. 

Suddenly in the midst of it all, a vivid orange hex portal materializes before you. Its pulsating energy casts an eerie glow, beckoning with the promise of an unknown destination. As the portal crackles with otherworldly energy, the mistress kicks you forcefully, propelling your body into the swirling vortex. Time seems to slow down as you hurtle through, a primal scream escaping your lips. Your body tumbles and spins uncontrollably, carried by the unseen forces within the portal. The surroundings blur, colors blending together in a disorienting whirlwind. Fear grips your heart tremendously, and your mind races with thoughts of uncertainty and the unknown.

————-

As fate would have it, your death fall was abruptly halted as you crashed into a vast, towering heap of refuse. The impact reverberates through your body, leaving you momentarily disoriented and gasping for air. Slowly, you pull yourself out from the jumble of discarded items, wincing at the discomfort and the stench that fills the air. “Ah…what is this?… Am I dead?..” you thought. The stench of decay and filth fills the air, assaulting your senses by the second. Disgusted, you immediately get up, brushing off any debris on yourself whilst scanning your surroundings. Before you stretch a bustling, futuristic cityscape, its towering skyscrapers reach toward the sky. Neon lights cast an otherworldly glow upon the sleek and streamlined architecture, creating a mesmerizing tapestry of colors and reflections. The city hums with energy, its streets filled with a constant flow of people, hover cars zipping through the air, and holographic displays illuminating the busy sidewalks. 

“This…this is amazing—”

Soon enough your senses are abruptly assaulted by a chilling scene unfolding before your eyes. A hooded figure, consumed by darkness, viciously takes the life of a helpless woman just steps away from you. Shock freezes you in place as a spray of crimson blood splatters across your face, an indelible mark of the horrific act. As the murderer turns his gaze upon you, his eyes filled with menace and realization, panic courses through your veins. Without a moment’s hesitation, he flees into the labyrinthine streets, leaving you alone with your shock and horror. Trembling and disoriented, you collapse to the ground, drawn to the lifeless body of the woman. 

Desperate for help, you cry out into the chaotic city, your voice a plea drowned in the cacophony of futuristic existence. The bustling crowd rushes past, oblivious to your distress, as if you were a ghost in their midst. Tears stream down your face as the weight of solitude bears down upon you, compounding the tragedy unfolding before your eyes.As your gaze falls upon the lifeless face of the woman, recognition sets in like a lightning bolt. It’s you, a mirror image from another Earth, a chilling realization that confirms the existence of alternate dimensions you once theorized. Thoughts race through your mind, piecing together fragments of understanding amidst the chaos. This city, this earth, holds secrets, mysteries, and dangers beyond your wildest imagination. You lift your gaze to the sky, searching for any trace of the hex portal that had whisked you away from the lab, but it vanished without a trace. Frustration mingles with the lingering shock of the gruesome scene before you. As you lean closer to the doppelgänger’s disfigured face, a mixture of sorrow and fear grips your heart. The brutality of her demise is etched upon her features, a haunting reminder of the evil that exists within this parallel world. Questions swirl in your mind, seeking answers to the inexplicable. Why was she killed? Was it a case of mistaken identity or something more sinister? A theory begins to take shape, drawing connections between the murder and your cheating ex-boyfriend from your own world. Could he too have a doppelgänger in this new reality, and is he the one responsible for the violence that unfolded?

Amidst the chaos and confusion, a daring plan forms in your mind. This unexpected convergence of fate offers you a chance at a fresh start, an opportunity to assume the identity of your deceased doppelgänger. With a mixture of apprehension and resolve, you carefully collect her personal belongings, aware of the risk and the weight of this decision. Counting to three, you summon the strength to  drag the lifeless body, your doppelgänger, away from the alley. Your eyes scan the surroundings until they land upon a dump truck in the distance, its occupants oblivious to your presence. Acting swiftly, you drag her to the back of the truck and toss her inside as one of the truck doors opens. Taking cover within the safety of the alleyway, you watch as the truck’s machinery comes to life. The walls of the dump truck begin to oscillate, exerting immense force upon the contents within. The scene unfolds before your eyes, simultaneously gruesome and cathartic. The crushing power of the moving wall grinds the trash and the lifeless body together, erasing the evidence of your doppelgänger’s tragic demise. 

“Rest in peace y/n…” you whispered

As the truck drives away, carrying the remnants of a life extinguished, you’re left with a mix of relief and trepidation. With trembling hands, you clutch the doppelgänger’s phone, your curiosity piqued by the secrets it holds. You gaze at the locked screen, a selfie of your oppelgänger and a handsome man, their smiles filled with genuine happiness. A pang of longing stirs within you as you realize that her doppelgänger had shared a deep connection with this mysterious man. “So, she had someone special in her life too. That’s good” you whispered, a wistful smile forming. 

As you bypass the phone’s security with facial recognition, your heart quickens with anticipation. The screen lights up, revealing a series of recent text messages. Your eyes widen as she scans the name at the top of the screen—Miguel. Intrigued, you tap on the name, delving into a private world of intimate and flirtatious conversations. “Oh my…these messages are…something” you claimed, voice tinged with excitement. Your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and intrigue as you read the playful exchanges, the hidden desires, and the promises of passion. Each message carries a hint of intimacy that ignites a flicker of longing within your own heart. It’s a tantalizing glimpse into the doppelgänger’s romantic escapades, and you can’t help but feel a surge of curiosity and a twinge of envy.

“Miguel…” you whisper to yourself, now going through her doppelgänger’s personal notes in her phone “I wonder what kind of person you are.”

©𝐘𝐀𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

[taminoarticles]

— Tamino for Milk.xyz, 2019 (x) (x)

Exploring Intentionality With Tamino

For this Belgian-born musician, every word counts.

10.1.2019 By Ella Jayes Photos by Dana Boulos

Tamino’s first New York show is sold out, and the crowd is enraptured. Throughout the performance, the audience seeks to establish a connection with the towering 22-year-old dressed in black. At every bout of silence, they ask questions, they request songs. “Play ‘Crocodile’!” one fan screams, and though he’s about to start another piece, Tamino switches chords and bends to our will. “I didn’t know that worked,” a surprised fan replies.

When he’s not touring with Radiohead’s Colin Greenwood, playing with the Nagham Zirkayat Orchestra or being personally requested to perform with Lana Del Rey, it’s just Tamino-Amir Moharam Fouad and his instruments.

When asked which guitar is his favorite, he answers like a proud father, “I can’t pick,” as he slings a black electric over his shoulder and secretly whispers “this one,” before heading into another song. Skipping octaves, his voice is like velvet, passing through Arabic vocal and tonal inflections.

Music is in the blood for the Belgian-born artist; with a name inspired by the prince of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute,” and a revered Egyptian grandfather nicknamed “The Sound of the Nile,” Tamino was born into music.

Before his show at National Sawdust and as he gears up to release the deluxe version of his debut album Amir [out October 18th via Arts & Crafts], we met Tamino at his hotel in Brooklyn. Just a day before the passing of Daniel Johnston, we spoke about the importance of authenticity in songwriting. We explored Tamino’s lyrical journey and the meaning behind his newest singles. It’s striking how thoughtful and specific he is with his words – in both his work and his spoken language.

So you have your show in New York tomorrow, you’ll be touring in the US and Canada, then you go into the Middle East, North Africa, and then the EU — you were also on tour at the beginning of the year as well. How are you faring with being on the road so much?

I’m very lucky because I have an amazing crew: my sound guy, my tour manager, if we’re with the band, we have a slightly bigger crew, we have two musicians and a backliner, and light guy [sic]. They’re all good guys; without them, I wouldn’t be able to bear it, I think.

I like being home; I like to be alone, and I like to write and work on music. So being away from that is sometimes hard. The good thing, and also, the kind of weird thing about playing shows is that you’re kind of dedicating your life to that: being on the road. You travel the whole day and then in the evening, you have your show. It all comes down to that. You have to make it work because otherwise it’s been for nothing, you know? You kind of push all of your energy into that, and you receive a lot of energy back from the crowd, which is what keeps you going, I guess; that interaction, the energy.

How do you recalibrate before getting on stage? How do you get in the correct mindset?

I do like to warm up my voice. I think that’s something that’s important. It’s good to get into the right mindset, and also to just get my body ready. Apart from that, I think am [sic] somebody who does well with routine, but right now I don’t really have one. When we tour, it’s not like we have the same production each evening. It’s like, “Oh, now we’re playing for 200 people...Oh, now we’re playing for thousands of people.” It’s always different from each other. Also backstage, it’s always different, so it’s difficult to maintain a routine. But I think maybe in the future, meditation would be nice, or just something to get me in the moment.

I must say I’m doing better and better on stage, in terms of being there, and not being stuck in thought. I did have trouble with that in the beginning; sometimes I was just thinking about stuff.

Like what?

Stupid stuff like tasks I had to do; nothing that has anything to do with the show. Hesitations like, “I wonder if the crowd is liking this or..” just stuff you shouldn’t be thinking about while you’re performing.

Lately, when I’m on the stage, I really feel like it’s not that much of a problem anymore. I can just let go. Those are the most beautiful moments, when you are really led by your own music; you just feel that the crowd is reacting to that, and I really like that; it’s something I’m always after. It’s kind of a transcendence feeling. If it works, it’s better than meditation, for me. My whole evening is different after that.

It makes sense, you’re fully in the present.

One of the main aspects of music is connecting with other people. Is there a specific crowd that really resonated with you? Or a specific fan, or show? I’m sure that they’re all great, but if there’s, one that comes to mind…

They’re all great, yeah, that’s the diplomatic answer. It depends, probably some cultures are more keen to show emotion.

What differences have you noticed between the crowds?

In Italy, they are very enthusiastic, but they are very respectful at the same time. It’s very special, they will be quiet for the whole song, and then they will want to shout, and they will throw roses at you, or whatever. It’s very romantic, the French are like that as well. In America, I feel actually very welcomed. It’s very inviting here, I don’t know how else to put it. I have the feeling, maybe I’m wrong about that, but as a European, it is like the new world, you know? And so many people move here. Of course, it was all a very long time ago, but people are still moving here. There are so many cultures coming together, and that’s why the crowd is very receiving. They’re open for other cultures; let’s say, it’s not an island.

I haven’t had many bad experiences, to be honest. I think I’ve been very lucky so far. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a worldwide hit song or something like that. I think that’s the moment where you get crowds that are only there for that one song. And so far, I think I’ve always had crowds who have really invested in music. They’re there with a purpose, they want to experience something. Until I have this hit song, I don’t know if I’ll ever have one...I don’t know if I ever want one, to be honest, because of that reason...but until that time comes, I think I will always have good experiences.

What’s the first thing that you want to do when you’re done touring in December?

I’m moving to a new house. I feel like I just want to decorate the place. It’s the first time I will be really designing what it looks like. It’s in this very multicultural area, a lot of Arabic families live there, but lately, a lot of other Belgian families have been moving there. It’s kind of becoming this nice clash of cultures, and I like that. It feels like it’s a vibrant place.

Antwerp is very, very small. You can cross one corner, and then you are in a totally different area. It’s this very small area of a lot of cultures coming together and I really like that. I would say some parts are too gentrified, which wouldn’t have been a good place to go and live for me. It doesn’t really inspire, it’s not a vibrant place. It kind of feels boring.

In Belgium, lately, because it’s such a small country, it’s not difficult to become known, so they recognize me, or whatever. It’s not like they bother me, but I prefer to…

Just go about your day.

Yeah.

What are your inspirations for your new place? What do you like?

So many things, I know this designer he’s called Jan Jan Van Essche. He is really, really cool Of course his clothes, I love; I wear a lot of what he does. But the way he decorated his shop, and his office where he works and where he draws, it’s so beautiful. It’s a mix of, say a lot of different ethnical inspirations coming together with kind of a roughness, a bit more industrial. But very humble. It’s a very humble appearance. It’s not too over the top.

You have two new songs, “Crocodile” and “Every Pore,” but only the former is out at the moment...do you want to talk about them?

The second one’s out next month. They’re both quite old songs. So when I chose to record for my album, I had a lot of songs, and I chose these possible candidates for the record. Those two made it to the last 15-16 songs I would say. But then, in the end, they fell out. When I listened to them again, and sometimes I played them live, I always had a good reaction on the songs.

I really like them, I just think they’re true B-Sides; they are kind of odd songs in comparison to the other ones. I really felt like I wanted to release them anyway, so with the deluxe version, I felt that was a really good opportunity. With the song we just released, “Crocodile,” for me it was very weird listening back to the song. I wrote it so many years ago, and it kind of perfectly talks about the situation I’m in right now, not literally. You have this crocodile, and he looks at the songbird and offers the metaphor. Crocodile could be the person that has yet to be awakened, and the songbird is what he could be.

I guess any artist goes through that; you see a version of yourself, you want to strive forward, but you also know everything that comes with that because of history, because of stories you’ve heard so many times. And you know that there is a truth in those stories because they happen over, and over, and over, and it can happen to you as well.

I read in another interview that you said “Someone can play three chords or maybe even one chord and move me. It’s because of the person that plays it, and how they play it.” When’s the last time that happened to you?

Let me check my Spotify because I always forget whatever I’ve been listening to lately.

Okay, my daily mixes are the singer- songwriters from America, the new ones, the ones who are still alive. Then, the ones who are a bit older, or dead. And then Arabic music. The more Alternative stuff, some Hip-Hop, all kinds of stuff.

Do you know The Disintegration Loops by William Basinski? It’s crazy. So he has tapes of existing music, and he manipulates them. But this one was broken, and it just kept on looping, and every time it looped, it got more broken. During this session, 9/11 happened. So he was looking, out and the album cover is a photo from where he was working.

It’s the same thing over and over, but it moves me like crazy. Do you know Daniel Johnston? I think what’s so cool is that he’s not a virtuoso, but he moves me more than 99% of all virtuosos.

He’s authentic.

Yeah, he’s authentic...how do you say it? We say, he has (literally translated) “saying power,” power in what he says... His songs are beautiful, the lyrics are heartbreaking…

What are you reading right now?

I just started A Brave New World which is cool. I think he was really young when he wrote it, it’s just insane to realize he wrote it then. It’s so accurate. If there were people who wanted to create this Utopian society where everything is perfect, it would be like that. I haven’t read 1984 though which is similar I think.

Your writing is very rooted in emotion. I’m assuming it could be cathartic to perform, but I’m wondering if there’s ever been a moment where it felt like too much.

I’m not sure. I don’t think so, actually. Maybe like once or twice, it’s usually when you just finished writing a song, and you perform it for the first time, that’s usually a very special moment. I don’t really feel like it’s ever too much though, that I can’t play it.

I feel like there is also a certain sense of letting go once you’ve performed it. Once you’re ready to release it to the world, you’ve almost come to terms with whatever you were writing about.

Absolutely, that’s true. You realize it’s not yours anymore. Have you listened to Mount Eerie’s record, A Crow Looked at Me? He had a child with his wife, and then his wife died. It’s really, really terrible. That record is really beautiful. I’ve never seen a concert of his, but he did this concert in the Netherlands once in a church, and that was so emotional for everyone there, apparently. If I listen to that record, I’m always wondering, “Whoa, how does he do it?”

You’ve previously discussed the idea of letting go of performing the exact recording of your work, and moving more towards letting the music evolve through playing it. Has there ever been a time when you’ve wanted to change a lyric or something?

Of course, I mean, it’s actually funny because in the foreword of Brave New World, Aldous Huxley is talking about looking back at old work, and you, of course, want to change stuff, but that it’s also beautiful in a way, that you cannot.

And it’s this moment in time, where you were that person back then, and you were that kind of artist back then. I think some of the lyrics on my first record are very naive and very bold, in a way. Naive is kind of the more negative way of looking at it, and bold is the more positive way of looking at them.

Probably, I’m less naive in my songwriting right now, but I’m also less bold. That’s something that I feel right now, the older you get, the more you think; you have more in your archive, you overthink. But, I have no trouble performing those older songs. Even if I’m not very proud of certain lyrics, I still feel totally behind them. I’m still comfortable representing those songs. I stand behind them.

Because your words are so intentional, when you’re actually writing them, is there a revision process or do you just kind of get tapped into something and write?

I hope to just write, and then stuff happens. The lyrics, I go over and over it, until they are just right. So far I’ve written more out of music. So the music came first, and then the lyrics. I’ve done it the other way around as well, but I feel like those initial melodies and structures, they’re always the best when they just come out of this flow.

It’s like a gift, you just have to be open to receive it. I went to see Nick Cave, and he said such a beautiful thing. He said there’s no such thing as writer’s block; too many people think that there’s something inside of them that they need to get out, but it’s actually something that’s out there that needs to go through them.

If you are open for that, so if you try each day, then eventually those things will flow through you. Or maybe you’re in a certain moment in your life, where it’s not really going through you.

Last question – if music did not exist what would you do?

I wouldn’t know. I did acting and theatre when I was a kid. I really liked that, it was my first passion. I like writing as well. As long as I have a creative outlet, then it’s fine.

CREDITS

PHOTOGRAPHER: Dana Boulos

PRODUCER + EDITORIAL DIRECTOR: Ella Jayes

HAIR + MAKEUP: Heather Rose Harris PHOTO ASSISTANT: Henry Fey

Special Thanks to Studio Blackheart, Nicole Prokes, + Chris Swainston.

[doctor-fancy-pants]

Crossed Wires

I started typing this out in Word, and then it got long, so probably that one's going on the Big Blog, but just because this is a crossing of the nerdy streams that absolutely delights me, have the short version here:

I have not been in a band in a long time, and there's stuff I've forgotten.

I found my passive DI box today, which I used for my bass guitar.

I could not remember how this fucking thing worked or what it was supposed to do. Attenuating switches. Filter switches. Input: 1/4" jack. Output: balanced XLR. Line thru: 1/4". what the fuck?!

Before googling it, I allowed myself a sigh of embarrassment, because I did know all this at some point in my life, it's just that when the info goes into long-term storage in my ADHD brain, figuring out where it is and digging it free is like traipsing into the junk yard with a metal detector.

Translation of that metaphor: a lot of things are going to go PING! and I fkn guarantee you that none of those things will be the droids you are looking for

except godfuckingdammit the droids would set off a metal detector, look, don't examine this analogy too closely, okay.

where was I?

oh yeah, that's right.

(yes, I am abusing bullet points, but it turns out that they just let fucken anyone use bullet points these days, there's not even a fucking license or anything, how wild is that?! Anyways, no one can stop me, suffer in ya jocks.)

My memory wasn't helping, so I googled the DI Box, and read the quick summary of what it's meant to do, and that process is more like some sleek futuristic pattern matching magnet technology, because it was like it was summoning the existing knowledge (which I had stashed and which was inaccessible. Bad sectors. Defragmentation needed) back into my brain.

(if you have personal and extensive experience of defragmentation: congratulations. You are old, and welcome on my porch. Rocking chair not provided. BYO shotgun.)

Quick summary: musical instruments (such as bass guitars) put out the kind of signal that is too messy and unbalanced for a mixing desk, which requires a gentler and more standardised touch. So, you run your bass patch lead through a DI box, which filters and (effectively) standardises that signal, and funnels it out to the mixing desk in a more manageable form.

Not only does this wreak less overall havoc, but it means that you can deal with the instruments and the vocal mics (and so on) on an even playing field (or at least, you can try to standardise everything else against the fucking drumkit-- no, do not ask).

The "line thru" jack is to carry out the un-filtered signal directly to your bass amp, because the bass amp can handle it as an independent Gigantic Noise Machine.

So. Why did I start giggling while reading this? Because I'm a diver. More specifically, I'm a professional assistant dive instructor.

(technically. I don't actually instruct. I'm qualified to instruct, assistively (so to speak), but I like guiding just fine, thanks. I get to give newbies handy hints and help them out and point out amazing marine life, but we get veterans as well; they're all qualified divers, though, so I do not have to actively supervise anyone at all times, and I do not usually have to carry anyone's gear, or dive in a pool.)

And I thought... the DI Box is a fucking first stage regulator, isn't it.

Like I'm not even kidding with this analogy, it's fucking perfect. The first stage regulator attaches to your tank valve. It wrangles the pressure of the air coming out of your tank (which is probably about 220 bar or 3200 psi to start with, and drops steadily throughout the dive as you breathe your way through it), wrestling it down to a much more chill 10 bar / 150 psi or something in that neighbourhood, and dumps this more amiably-managed air into the low pressure ports. Those hoses connect to your BC inflator (uh, BC = "floaty jacket"), your dry suit inflator if you have one, and your second stage regulators.

The second stage regulators are the ones you breathe from, but easier to say that they're demand valves. The pressure of that air is pretty much dictated by how hard you breathe in.

Here's the other thing, right: there's even a "Line Thru". Yessiree, you got that high pressure port for hooking up the ol' Submersible Pressure Gauge (SPG), because that thing needs the STRAIGHT SIGNAL, unfiltered, unbalanced, unaltered, because... that's the thing that tells you how much air is left in your tank, in terms of pressure. You... really don't wanna regulate that.

This analogy does suggest that my SPG is basically like my old Behringer quad box (approx 60kg), except a good deal fucking lighter, much easier to get up two flights of stairs to our flat at the time, and much less inclined to get covered in cat hair.

(seriously the guy at the Music Swop Shop took my amp, looked it over, and said, "You have a cat, don't you?" because - for those who don't know - many amps are basically covered in scratchy carpet.)

(for anyone who doesn't know: yes, "Swop" is deliberately spelled with an "O", it's not a typo, don't @ me.)

Anyways, that was my anecdote, split into several anecdotes, and I can hear someone forming a Bullet Point Licensing Committee Advisory Group even as I type this, so I better skedaddle before I can be prosecuted for my crimes against formatting or narrative. Fortunately the sort of people who would be interested in that are not the sort of people who skip straight to "angry mob" -- I mean they get there eventually, but I have some lead time.

(there is a reason I called this thing "Anecdote Machine". You were warned.)

...okay but seriously the analogy is fucking perfect it's like the entirety of engineering as a concept - from maritime and scuba across to audio tech to computer and software - is just pretty much about trying to translate one type of energy into another so that one gadget will talk to another gadget and nobody gets blown up or set on fire.

oh shit. that's actually what engineering is, isn't it? you know there are some course guides that could have been a lot shorter, on reflection.

[edit: forgot to mention that the first stage actually drops the pressure from your tank a whole lot, actually, so anyways I have fixed that now...]

[yukiakaren]

Kpop title track ranking: MBLAQ

In this series I’ll be ranking kpop groups/soloists title tracks based on my taste.

I was reminded of the existence of MBLAQ the other day and immediately had the thought that I need to do this ranking for their songs. Also, I've started actually looking at the lyrics while doing these rankings and it does impact some of the opinions. But, as I don't actively understand the lyrics, sometimes just vibes carry the song.

Stay - Originally Stay wasn't my favorite MBLAQ song, as for the longest time it was Mona Lisa. But then at some point I really started liking Stay and it has been the no. 1 ever since. Extremely catchy desperate "I can't believe we are breaking up" type of song.

Mona Lisa - Damn it's a great one! I was seriously considering switching this back to the number one spot but just decided against it. Maybe at this very moment the correct spot for it would be no.1 but I trust that there are also days when this is the correct order. Truly all I can say is that these two are equally great songs.

This Is War - I think TIW has a rarer point of view for song lyrics, which I have to appreciate. Also, it's very dramatic, which is often my gear. Yup, this probably being their most well known song really does make sense.

Again - I'm not 100% sure if this was a title track. It was the single for a repackaged album, so I expect it was. One of couple of songs I had not heard before but that clearly had heaps of potential with me. Hence, I gave it couple of more listens and it ended up way higher than expected. This one definitely was a big positive surprise!

Mirror - I really liked this one when it was released and it's still quite lovely sounding song. Now reading the lyrics I see that they can really be interpreted to be about the members leaving. Obviously it is a break up song as well but it works in that context as well. Seriously, it's too bad that this ended up being the last song that we got from them.

Smoky Girl - I liked this decently much when I first listened to it. Definitely not my type of thing lyrically but oh well it's catchy enough to still get this spot.

Cry - This was the other one I had not heard before. But despite having that extra hurdle this also seems like a really nice one actually. Very much having the sound of that era ballad type of kpop songs but I don't think its a bad thing. I wish I had some nostalgia to back this up a bit more but for now it ends up here.

Oh Yeah - Well, let's start by saying this song definitely wasn't the reason for doing this ranking xD Perhaps I had only heard the Oh Yeah part of the song before now listening through these songs. For the era not too lyrically problematic, so that's a plus, but not necessarily the most interesting song either.

Y - The amount of autotune is actually quite off-putting. Also, the lyrics seem quite iffy. Purely the nostalgia I have for it prevents it from ending up on the bottom of the list.

Be A Man - This might seem crazy but hear me out. I just never have liked it, I don't know why but it grinds my gears. Reading the lyrics didn't help the case at all. I rather listen to the bucket load of autotune that Y has than go for this one, as pleasant of an instrumentation and vocals it has on paper. Damn, I'm just really not meant to like this one.

They really had bunch of hits but also some misses. Honestly, finding Again was the most unexpected but positive outcome here.

[fratboykate]

Does Yelena ever meet Kate’s siblings properly in FBKYAU?

Yelena nervously flips through the same three apps on her phone for the fifteen minutes she has sat at this table. She arrived early to preemptively get a drink (two, if we're being honest) in her to calm her nerves, but somehow, the whiskey and the ticking clock have only made her more anxious.

Why did she even have a drink before meeting an eleven-year-old? Why are they bringing an eleven-year-old to a place where they serve alcohol to begin with? This is all wrong. She should text Kate and change the location. Surely there's a more kid-friendly place around here somewhere.

Yelena switches to her text app and begins to type a frantic message but the sound of familiar laughter echoing through the restaurant interrupts her. She looks up to find Kate carrying her archery gear on one shoulder and Susan's cello on the other as they approach the table.

Yelena had briefly met Susan at their dad's wedding, but it had been chaotic. There hadn't really been much time to mingle and do real face to face with each other. The vibe at the wedding for Kate and Yelena was...less than welcoming, so it wasn't really the time and place for proper introductions. This is about two weeks later. There's been FALL OUT from Kate taking Yelena to the wedding. MAJOR. The drama has been OFF THE CHARTS, but Kate has managed to finagle some time alone with Susan.

Yelena has seen baby pictures of Kate, and barring a few minor things, Susan is mostly a mini replica of her older sister. Yelena's heart swells watching them side to side like this.

Kate nudges Susan as they approach the table.

"You're a loser."

"You're a bigger loser."

Susan pushes Kate back.

When they land beside the table where Yelena sits, Kate drops all the gear and the instrument, leaning them up against the nearest wall, then places a quick, soft peck on Yelena's kiss.

"Hi."

"Hey."

Susan doesn't greet Yelena. She simply looks at her for a long second, scrutinizing her, before she casually takes a seat in the booth.

"Yeah, she's definitely cuter in person."

"Dude!"

"I see radical honesty runs in the family."

Yelena grabs her glass and takes a long sip of her drink.

"So you're super smart or something? Is she exaggerating or is it true?"

Yelena glances at Kate who simply smiles. Yelena turns back to Susan.

"I would like to think I am."

"How are you measuring the smart?"

"Uhm...I'm a scientist."

"My science teacher isn't too smart."

"Yo!"

Kate cuts in but Susan remains undeterred in her grilling.

"What kind of science?"

Kate continues to push back.

"What is this? Twenty one questions?"

"Biochemistry."

"Hmmm..."

"Where are you from?"

"Russia."

"Why don't you have an accent?"

"My parents moved here when I was three."

"Are you a spy?"

"DUDE!"

"No."

"Are your parents spies?"

"Not that I know of?"

"You need to chill, Zee. We came for food, not an interrogation."

Susan leans back in the booth and crosses her arms over her chest. Kate throws her arm over Yelena's back and scoots closer.

"What are you drinking?"

Kate takes a sip of the watery remains in Yelena's glass.

"Whiskey. Rocks."

"Oh, you only do that when you're nervous."

Kate chuckles. She places a soft kiss on Yelena's lips and whispers.

"She's just playing mean. She'll love you."

"But what if she doesn't?"

Yelena whispers back.

"She will."

Kate leans in to kiss her again.

"Gross. And I can hear you. I'm right here."

"I know. Mind your business. Read the menu or something. You can read already, right?"

Susan flips Kate off. Kate leans back onto the booth and rests her head against Yelena's.

"Hey." Kate kicks Susan's leg under the table. Susan kicks her back three times. "When have I ever introduced you to a girl? To anyone?"

"Never."

"Okay. So that means something, right?"

Susan shrugs. Kate kicks her under the table again.

"I'll shove this into your leg if you kick me again."

Susan lifts the knife that was on the table and presents it to Kate. Kate chuckles.

"I see you're picking up mom's conflict resolution skills." Kate takes the knife away. "Dude, she's sticking around. I need you to be nice to her."

There's a long pause.

"I barely see you already."

Susan's eyes go soft. That's when it clicks for both of Kate and Yelena. Yelena leans in.

"I'm not going to take her away from you. I promise. That's not what I'm here for. Whatever time you have is your time."

"We've been together for a hot second now and nothing's changed between us, has it? You still see me. Nothing's gonna change. All I want is for you guys to be friends too. Maybe she can hang out with us sometimes. She's pretty dope...Eh, not at first. She's kinda mean at first but she grows on you."

"Kate!"

Kate smiles and so does Susan. Susan nonchalantly picks up the menu, completely ignoring everything that was just said.

"Can I have a milkshake?"

Kate laughs.

"You can."

As if on cue, the waiter finally arrives.

"Hi. My name is Matty. What can I get started for you guys? Any drinks?"

"She'll have a cookies and cream milkshake, extra cookies, please. She'll have another whiskey rocks..."

"I..."

Yelena tries to interject but Kate squeezes her thigh in a silent 'Let it be'. She knows Yelena could use it.

"...Light ice. House well is fine. And I'll have whatever your favorite IPA is on tap."

"Awesome. I'll get that started for you and I'll be back to get your food order in a minute."

"Thanks."

Kate turns her attention back to Susan who still stares at the menu.

"She can stay...but if she does anything, I know the combination to the safe where mom keeps the gun and dad takes me and DJ shooting a lot now."

"WOH! OKAY! That's a text that's being sent right now." Kate grabs her phone and starts typing a text to her mother asking her to change the safe combination. "Also...what the fuck dad?!"

"He took you shooting too."

"Not when I was eleven!" Kate is now texting her father asking about that as well. "No guns or shooting. In general. Okay? You're too little. This fucking family..." She turns to Yelena. "Do you see what you're getting yourself into?"

"My family is Russian, Kate."

"True...If we ever got married this would be a fucking nightmare."

Yelena raises her eyebrow.

"Married...? Kate Bishop, saying the "M" word? What has the world come to?!"

Kate's face goes beet red when she realizes Susan has lowered the menu and is now staring too.

"I just...I meant...the...it...I...it was a..." Kate grabs the menu and buries her blushing face in it. "...what's everyone eating?!"

Yelena and Susan exchange a look and smile. Maybe they can be friends after all.

---

As far as Kate's little brother, Yelena first gets to like ACTUALLY spend time with him when they visit him during his stint in rehab after he ODs the first time. Like I mentioned before, he and Kate have a rocky relationship for a while because she's the only one that can see he has issues because she's the only one who truly fucking pays attention. He doesn't appreciate that, which causes friction, so it's harder to have a relationship with him than with Suze.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 12 - ao3 -

The dinner lasted until late, late enough that Lan Qiren had to make his excuses and even then only just barely got back to his room in time to fall asleep at the appropriate hour; he didn’t even have enough time to do more than remove his shoes and outer layer before his eyes had closed.

Surprisingly, unlike most social dinners in Lan Qiren’s memory, it hadn’t been awful. Most of that had been thanks to Lao Nie, whose exuberance, as he’d suspected, could carry just about any social interaction to victory. After exhausting himself in thinking of ever more increasingly ridiculous toasts and forcing Wen Ruohan to drink them – they’d switched to wine at some point, although to Lan Qiren’s relief neither offered him any – Lao Nie had turned the subject to the type of music appropriate to be played at a wedding feast, and his opinions on music were, as always, so horrifically wrong that even Lan Qiren had been lured into arguing with him.

At some point, the conversation had shifted to the subject of marriage and weddings more generally, though to Lan Qiren’s relief both men clearly considered him too young to have thoughts about his own future in that regard the way his teachers might have. Instead, they’d spoken about the origins of various wedding traditions – there were some that Lan Qiren had thought were set in stone and handed down from ancient times which Wen Ruohan could recall having seen invented within his lifetime, which was a fascinating advantage of age that Lan Qiren had not previously considered.

It was equally interesting to see Wen Ruohan at his most charming. It was not a mask that the sect leader bothered putting on very often, as far as Lan Qiren knew, and it was a mask, one that was a little loose around the edges – even Lan Qiren could tell. Wen Ruohan would say the right words a beat too late, with his eyes a little too focused and his smile a little too sharp to be believed; his quips were a little too cutting and his suggestions just a little beyond the boundaries of common decency, his cruelty and indifference leaking out around the edges of even a casual chat with people he considered friends.

But at the same time, it was difficult to deny that he was brilliant. Regardless of whether he’d obtained his superior cultivation through dark and dirty means or not, he’d been the master of his sect and about a third of the cultivation world for at least a generation already, and no one managed that without being extremely clever and more than a little ruthless.

It made for interesting conversation, if one beset with a constant feeling of danger…

“I hope you enjoyed the bed.”

Lan Qiren nearly jumped out of his skin in fright, spinning around to stare at Wen Ruohan standing just within the doorway to Lan Qiren's room – he hadn’t heard him open the door, nor close it behind him. The other man was in his wedding finery, the brilliant fiery red of his sect turned to joyous purpose, and yet there was something sinister in his self-assured smile.

“The – bed?” Lan Qiren repeated blankly, and glanced at it. “It was…fine?”

“You complained, last time,” Wen Ruohan said, continuing to stroll into the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “Too hard, I believe you said…I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Lan Qiren vaguely recalled having said something along those lines and blushed in shame. “It’s fine,” he said. “I slept deeply and well. Thank you for your concern.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Wen Ruohan said. “You and I are brothers, are we not? My every thought should be of you.”

That didn’t sound quite right.

Before he could say anything, though, Wen Ruohan clicked his tongue lightly and stood in front of him, looking him up and down. “Your Lan sect’s formal clothing is truly a masterpiece of the embroidered arts,” he said. “A brilliant sight – especially all in white.”

Lan Qiren lowered his head, embarrassed again. If pressed, he would argue that his clothing was a little more silver than pure white, so he wasn’t actually dressed in mourning colors, but it couldn’t be denied that he was much closer than most, making it a little inappropriate for a wedding. Unfortunately, he only owned the one set of formal clothes, and there hadn’t been time to commission another; there was nothing for it.

“I like it,” Wen Ruohan said unexpectedly, his hands settling on Lan Qiren’s shoulders, smoothing out the fabric. Lan Qiren looked up and was caught by that intense red gaze. “My sect colors are red and white, after all – just like the two of us. A matched set.”

His hands burned too hot on Lan Qiren’s shoulders.

“White is a traditional color for the Lan sect as well,” Lan Qiren said, and his voice only quavered a little bit. “Anyway, it’s…mostly grey.”

“White,” Wen Ruohan disagreed. “As pristine as a pearl resting in the palm of your hand.”

His thumbs pressed lightly just by Lan Qiren’s collarbone. There were acupoints there, he thought, although he was having trouble recalling which ones or what they did.

“Yes, a pearl is truly the most apt comparison,” Wen Ruohan mused. “Simple and natural, yet shining with its own luster – I’d thought rubies, to make you fit to my taste, but perhaps pearls will suit you better.”

“I have no need for jewels,” Lan Qiren said, a little alarmed. Had Wen Ruohan really drunk so much the night before that he was still intoxicated, confusing his new sworn brother and his new bride?

“And yet I may wish to give them to you,” Wen Ruohan said. “Surely you won’t deny me – after all, I need to repay you for the charming gift you gave to me.”

Lan Qiren had a sinking feeling.

“Uh,” he said. “You saw it? Already?”

He’d searched the room briefly earlier that morning for the personal gift he’d bought for Wen Ruohan, intending on packaging the bowls away in his return clothing – why hadn’t it occurred to him to simply give it away to one of his fellow disciples, or even to trade or sell it? That way he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself by giving such a simple gift amidst all the opulent luxury of the Nightless City.

It seemed, however, that it was too late for that.

“Oh yes,” Wen Ruohan said, looking amused. “A set of drinking bowls, painted with a flowing border reminiscent of vermilion birds – made by your own hand?”

“I only applied the glaze,” Lan Qiren said hastily. “There was another gift, too –”

“I have dozens of golden crowns of better make and greater utility,” Wen Ruohan said dismissively. “Such a heavy thing. If you told me that you’d picked it yourself, I wouldn’t believe you.”

“No, I did pick –”

“Without constraint? Or from a selection of predetermined choices, each one deemed ‘appropriate’?”

Lan Qiren fell silent.

“Do not tell lies,” Wen Ruohan said, rolling the familiar rule in his mouth as if tasting a wine of fine vintage. “Yes, the guan is a very appropriate gift, neither too distant nor too familiar, too rich or too restrained, perfectly reasonable yet conveying nothing, giving nothing away...I’m quite certain your brother picked it out. But you were the one who picked the bowls, weren’t you? Did you pay for them yourself?”

Lan Qiren felt certain that the conversation was leading to some sort of trap, but he didn’t know what, or how, or how to evade it. “I did,” he admitted. “With my sect allowance.”

“How many months’ worth did it cost you?”

Lan Qiren thought back, calculating. “About three?”

He’d thought to get something nice enough that he wouldn’t lose face in giving it, though naturally he’d underestimated the luxury of the Nightless City. Still, it wasn’t as though he needed the money for much, anyway. The sect supplied him with basic clothing and gear, equipment to tend to his sword and musical instruments, and even access to books; he did not buy himself too many luxuries beyond that. Other than the fees he paid for various sect purposes, it was really only the occasional trinket that caught his eye or rare books on foreign musical techniques that he purchased with his own money.

It wasn’t anything like a sacrifice, not really, but Wen Ruohan still looked pleased about it, smug and satisfied as a cat right after the hunt.

“Three months’ worth,” he murmured, and his hands which were somehow still on Lan Qiren’s shoulders slid inexorably inwards to rest on the sides of his throat. “Even assuming you were extraordinarily parsimonious, little Lan, you could only save a third at a time; that’s nine months of your life that you spent for me. Nearly a twentieth of all the months you’ve lived so far.”

What a strange way to calculate time.

It wasn’t even right, since Lan Qiren had turned seventeen in the interval and that made the interval closer to a twenty-fifth than a twentieth, but also – who thought like that, treating time like a percentage, as if it could be measured and spent like coin? Perhaps it was simply that Wen Ruohan was so old already…and perhaps that, in turn, was why he looked at him so strangely, so unnervingly –

Lan Qiren swallowed, decided he didn’t need his pride more than he needed to get away, and ducked out of Wen Ruohan’s loose grip.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready or something?” he asked, turning and pretending to fuss with his robes to avoid making eye contact. “It’s the morning of your wedding.”

“Indeed it is,” Wen Ruohan said from behind him. He was standing too close: Lan Qiren could feel his breath on the back of his head. “Tell me, little Lan – little brother. What do you think of my marriage?”

Lan Qiren hesitated.

“The truth, if you will,” Wen Ruohan added. “I would hate for the purity of our relationship to be tainted by misdirection, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to lie.”

His voice was mild and even, almost sweet, and Lan Qiren was abruptly convinced that it was far more threatening than any of Lao Nie’s rages or his brother’s ice-cold sarcasms.

“I think you made it up to distract people from swearing brotherhood with me,” he said, turning back to face his fears and sworn brother, and felt his face go red as he realized how self-involved that made him sound. But it was what he thought, and Wen Ruohan had asked him not to lie. “You made a mistake, underestimated people’s reactions, and Lao Nie yelled at you because it was affecting your reputation and mine, so you came up with a better story and made everyone else believe it.”

Wen Ruohan hummed. “What an interesting theory. You don’t think the engagement was merely kept private before being revealed at an appropriate time?”

“No.” Lan Qiren shrugged. “If I’m wrong, of course, I’m wrong. But you asked what I thought.”

“Is that why you got me a gift?” Lan Qiren, surprised, glanced at Wen Ruohan, who was still smiling. “To thank me for clearing up the mess I made of your reputation?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re getting married,” Lan Qiren said, bemused. “What does my reputation have to do with anything? You’re not the one making everyone gossip, and even if you were, you cleaning up something you did is only what you should do. I don’t see what one has to do with the other.”

This time, Wen Ruohan gave a little huff of amusement, and he sounded almost surprised. “Charmingly blunt.”

“You told me not to lie or misdirect!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, feeling betrayed.

Now Wen Ruohan was chuckling in earnest. “Ah, little Lan,” he said. “Someone is going to get you into trouble one day, and it may very well be me…you’re right, you know.”

“What?”

“About the wedding,” he said lazily, and put a hand on top of Lan Qiren’s head. “Both in terms of motivation and timing. You’re entirely right, except for one part.”

“What part?”

His fingers tightened, the too-sharp nails digging into Lan Qiren’s scalp and pulling at his hair until his head was forced back to look up at Wen Ruohan.

“I didn’t make a mistake,” Wen Ruohan said. His eyes were boring into Lan Qiren’s own, the pressure of his will strong, as insistent as his voice. “You were not a mistake, little Lan. You’re mine.”

“Of course I am,” Lan Qiren said, suddenly irritated for no reason he could tell. “Your sworn brother. Doesn’t the whole world know it by now?”

“Mm. I suppose they do.”

“And on that note,” Lan Qiren said, “what are the terms, anyway? I never got to see them.”

“The – terms?”

“Of our brotherhood! My brother confiscated the paper you gave me before I could look it over, and naturally I don’t remember, so you have to give me another copy. I think I’m entitled to one, since I’m a part of it, and presumably you did the drafting. Was it one of the classical oaths? Which clauses were included? Provisions? Curses? Was there any consideration of – stop laughing!”

Wen Ruohan had released Lan Qiren’s hair in order to brace himself on the wall, he was laughing so hard. Laughing with big laughs that came up from his belly and stuck in his throat, and no matter what Lan Qiren said he didn’t say one single thing in response. Lan Qiren eventually gave up with a huff and stormed out.

Let the irritating bastard be late to his own wedding, for all he cared.

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Those that stood above the rest

Summary: Everyone in D.A.M.N simp for the power couple at least a little bit - the Vampire Prince of Dahlia and the Electro Energetic. Gavin and the Freelancer would be lying if they said they haven't been watching them... respectfully. 

TW: [Swearing], [Profanity], [Explicit implications courtesy of Gavin, of course] & [Oblivious narrators]

Apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors because I wrote this the whole night and only edited it once. I’ll do the editing process again tomorrow morning.

-

Life as a student in D.A.M.N is nothing like regular colleges or universities. While the environment is hectic with exams, assignments and teachers with sticks up their asses - there's also a hint of craziness thrown into the mix. You can never really predict how your day would go here in the academy, and to most of the students, it's the typical college experience you'll get everywhere. Just... taken to the next level. 

That's what you get for a magical academy, after all. 

An Air Elemental would accidentally shatter the windows in a classroom with a powerful gust of wind on a random ass Tuesday because she was laughing too hard. A Graviton Energetic would sneeze, and suddenly, the gravity in the music room would stick the instruments on the ceilings. The entire soccer team would fall flat on the grassy field, snoozing because the Serenity Daemon playing as the Goalkeeper uses too much magic to calm their anxious Sweeper during his first play with the team. 

With so many Empowered creatures of all kinds attending D.A.M.N, there's never a dull moment. You learned that the moment a loud growl came from the Debate Club on your second week as a student. A Wolf Shifter had gotten into a heated argument with a Vampire about the toppings that should and shouldn't be on a pizza. 

So yeah, typical college life with magic thrown into your daily shenanigans. 

Today, you can't help but wonder what sort of excitement would occur as the large clock above the lecture hall ticks by, counting down the second before the class is over. 

You check the clock and sigh. Just ten more minutes to go, but it feels like time is creeping forward at such a snail-like pace. Tapping your pen on the open notebook laid before you rather irritability, you just want the lecturer to stop yammering already so you can grab lunch at the food truck parked outside of campus. 

Something gently knocks against your knuckle. You tilt your head to the side and meet with Damien's unamused stare; it looks like this is the third time he caught you losing focus in class. 

"I told you to grab a snack before class started." Damien whispers, mindful to keep his voice even so the lecturer won't catch them chatting. Sadism Daemons are scary when you piss them off, and the way the lecturer's eyes sweep through the students is more than enough to have them all shut the hell up the moment he begins their topic of the day. 

"I was meeting up with Lasko and we lost track of time." You hiss back. Yesterday you made a promise to catch up with the Air Elemental before your first class started to organise the date and invitations for the next game night. Once Lasko starts talking about the things he's comfortable with, he loses his stutter and launches into an animated one-sided conversation. You didn't have the heart to stop him, not when he looks so happy and cute. 

Buying that Arkham Horror board game was the right purchase to surprise him with. 

While your mind replays the morning you spend with Lasko, Damien rolls his eyes. "Of course you did. Here." He pushes his coffee cup towards you. His fingers linger on the cup for a few seconds to make sure that the coffee remains hot enough to drink. 

You grab the cup, grateful for his consideration, and take a big swing. The coffee settles pleasantly in your stomach as warmth spreads within your body. 

You're more a tea drinker - the classic Early Grey and Gunpowder Green - but at this instance, coffee would hopefully kick your focus back into gear. 

"Thanks, Damien." You said before passing the cup back to him. You peeked at his notebook and wasn't surprised to find that it's packed with notes written in different coloured pens. "Hey, want to grab lunch together after this?" 

Damien switched the yellow pen for a red one when the lecturer mentioned something about a topic for the upcoming test. You absentmindedly wondered if it's worth your life stealing his notebook. "Sure. What are you in the mood for?" He asked. 

Finally, the lecturer dismisses the class. Chatters erupt as students pack up while some scurry over to the podium to ask a few questions.

You lean against your seat to stretch your back; your notebooks and stationery are already in your school backpack. You're just waiting for Damien now. "I'm craving for a burger and some cheesy loaded fries with a boba tea." God, just thinking about it is already enough to make your mouth watered. 

Being a health nut, Damien throws you a judgemental look at your food choice as you two made your way towards the main campus entrance. He easily follows your lead through a crowd of students, and Damien even gently pulls you closer to his side when a student whizzes by on her skateboard. 

With so many people talking and laughing around you and Damien, you can't help but hear the conversations hovering around you. 

"...had class with them yesterday? Dude, you're so lucky! Did you sit beside them!?" 

"Are you fucking crazy? No! I sat two rows behind them, but it was enough to smell their perfume. God, they're so gorgeous - I couldn't focus the entire time!" 

"I've heard a few players from the Earth Elemental team tried to invite them to their party this weekend, but they were shot down. Apply cold water on burned area." 

"Well, duh. You can't just walk up to them like that! They're one of the hottest people in this academy."

"Yeah, but those players are in one of the most well-respected sports teams in all of Dahlia, and even they can't stand a chance against them!"

Students parted ways as you and Damien approached the gates. Rows of food trucks parked across the street with tables and chairs placed about. The conversations tapered off behind you, along with the hubbub of the academy. You have a pretty good idea of whom those students were talking about. It's been a topic surrounding the academy ever since the start of the new academic year. 

Even as an introvert who prefers to hover to your few but close group of friends, you couldn't escape the latest academy gossip.

"Finally, I thought my ears would've fallen off before we could escape," Damien mutters. It's a cloudy Wednesday; dark clouds are rolling above them with an occasional burst of strong breeze cutting through. "You'd think they would just give it a rest already." 

The food truck you and Damien stop by displays a menu with a wide variety of food and drinks. From burgers to pasta and desserts ranging from ice-creams to Thai banana pancakes, your stomach begins to growl. You place your order in a hurry, whereas Damien selects a hearty sandwich stuffed with juicy and tender slices of slow-smoked beef brisket with veggies of his choice and chipotle mayo in between two crusty loaves with a bottle of water. 

You and Damien grab your meals to sit at one of the vacant tables and enjoy lunch together. Good food and good company - what more could you ask for? Well, other than Damien's tsk-ing and wiping the barbecue sauce that smudged the corner of your cheek like the mother hen he constantly denies to be. 

"Can't you eat your food properly, Freelancer? You're getting your fingers dirty too. Give me your hand." Damien demanded halfway through his sandwich. You grin impishly and offer your left hand for Damien to wipe with some tissue while the other is holding a burger. The thick sauce begins to drip. 

Soon enough, a familiar voice shouts at them from across the street. 

"Yo, Damien! Freelancer! Are you guys, like, having lunch? Can I join!?" 

You can't help but beam and wave your hand (that was still holding the burger) high up when Huxley crosses over. Damien squawked with eyes wide in horror when the barbecue sauce got all over the table. He hurried to wipe the table clean while you greeted Huxley. 

"Hi, Huxley! Are you grabbing lunch too? Take a seat, man!" 

"Thanks a bunch, dude. It's been a while since I hung out with you two." 

"We literally had a class together two days ago." 

"Two days too long, Damien. I miss you guys." 

"Aww, that's super sweet of you, Hux!"

"Oh, for the love of - just go buy something already before the next class starts." 

Huxley happily gives Damien two thumbs up before grabbing his food and drink. When he returned to their table, he brought a tray of smoothie consisting of kale, spinach, banana, orange, and vanilla blended into green mush in a plastic cup and a plate of vegan quesadillas. 

The moment Huxley sat down, you took a sip of his drink and made a face. 

"Yeah, I ask them to hold back on the honey because I like the vanilla more," Huxley explains before tucking in. "Oh! But I can ask them to add more honey if you want. That’s like, totally cool." 

You quickly shake your head and clean your palate with your sweet boba tea. "It's cool, Hux. Just wanted to try a sip. You're really into these crazy healthy smoothies." 

"They're the bomb, dude. My Mums introduced a few recipes to me when I was a kid, and I basically hooked ever since." The Earth Elemental explains after gulping down a good chunk of the green goo. 

"Yeah, well, with the calories you burned up during practice, I guess you can't go wrong with smoothies," Damien added thoughtfully. His sandwich is all gone. He props an elbow on the table and cradles his face in one open palm. "Anyway, what's up, Huxley? Anything new happened?" 

"Nah, it's been nothing but the same shit lately. Classes, assignments and practices for the upcoming Elemental & Energetic Games - normal stuff. What about you guys?" 

"More or less the same." Damien replies, soundly ignoring your "We're hitting the tournament arc!" outburst. "Planning to organise a study group for the upcoming tests. I expect the two of you will be joining, by the way." 

At Damien's words, Huxley beams brighter. Any brighter, you'd need a pair of sunglasses. "For real, dude!? You're like, the best friend ever, Damien! C'mere - lemme give you a hug!" 

You snicker when despite Damien's frantic protest, Huxley shoot up from his chair and quickly hugs the Fire Elemental tightly before he has the chance to weasel away. 

Also, you didn't miss the chance to snap a quick picture of them to show Gavin tonight. 

Unaware of your phone, Damien grumbled when Huxley finally released him, and they sat down again. The three of you continue to chat about everything and anything. Soon, the topic shifts from tests to plans for the weekend. 

Huxley snapped his fingers when you mentioned Lasko's gaming night and the tabletop game you recently bought for him so they could all play together. 

"I totally forgot about the party! A few guys in my team are having a party this Saturday, and I want to invite you guys and Lasko. Oh! Gavin too! It's going to be a blast, and on Sunday, we can play that new board game."

You and Damien exchange a glance. "Sounds fun. Actually, we've heard about the party just now. How many people are your team members inviting?" You asked, curious. 

Huxley takes a moment to ponder before shrugging. He's nearly done with this food. "It's supposed to be just with a few close friends. Nothing too crazy, you know? After the last party that ended with fireworks exploding in someone's bedroom, they want to keep it lowkey." 

"Huh. Close friends, but they tried to invite a certain Energetic," Damien interjects. "What's up with that?" 

"You heard about that too?" Huxley replied, surprise coloured his tone. "Word travel like, super-fast around campus! It happened, like, yesterday morning!" 

Damien let out an annoyed groan and ran a palm down his face. "I think it's safe to say that everyone in this fucking academy is talking about it and nothing else. God, no matter where you go, you can't escape it." 

You pat Damien's arm in a comforting manner. "They're hot and popular; people will be talking about them until we all graduate." 

"And if it isn't them, people would be talking about their boyfriend," Huxley pointed out, stirring his smoothie languidly. Huxley smiles and offers it to you when you critically stare at it for a tad too long. Against your better judgement, you try again. 

Blek! It still tastes the same! Huxley just chuckles and finishes the rest of the smoothie while you seek solace with your boba tea again. 

"Besides, it's not often you see an Energetic and Vampire couple walking around," Huxley continued. "I think they're living together too. I mean, that's what I heard." 

"Don't tell me you also have a crush on them."  

Before Huxley could say anything, you tentatively raise your hand as if you guys are in class. Now you bear Damien's annoyed glance. "I was kinda hardcore crushing on them and their boyfriend before Gavin and I officially got together. They keep to themselves and their boyfriend most of the time, but they're super nice in classes." 

The Elemental and Energetic courses often have classes that intermingle every week. However, they're primarily compulsory lessons like magical history, laws regarding coverts and taxonomy of various Empowered creatures. 

So you're practically classmates with the hottest Electro Energetic in the academy and had even sat beside them a few times during class. Unlike many of the students who simp for them at a distance. 

The power couple of D.A.M.N is certainly interesting, to say the least. 

You narrowed your eyes at Damien when he refused to let up his disappointed stare. "Don't lie to me. You simp for them too." 

Damien huffs and crosses his arms. "Both of them look good, alright. Anyone with a working pair of eyes could tell from a mile away. They're gorgeous, and the Vampire is hot - so what?" 

"They're both super strong too." Huxley unknowingly throws more wood into the fire. 

By the time their lunch ended, Damien had demanded they talk about something else, so you jump into plans for the weekend. Party on Saturday and a gaming session on Sunday. 

Typical college life.

-

When the time on your phone displays 10.30 PM in glaring bright light and you're still on campus, you know what death feels like. 

It's quiet in the cafeteria, save for a small group of students huddled together around tables scattered in various places. Their heads are hunched down as they go over textbooks and assignments. One of the students happens to be a Vampire judging from the blood bag beside his laptop. 

A red swirly straw juts out of the bag, and for a brief moment of exhaustion, you entertain the image of the student sipping the blood bag as if it was a Capri Sun. 

Just like those students, the reason why you've stayed late in the academy's cafeteria is because of assignments. You know that if you bring your homework back home with you, you won't get any of it done. It's better to stay here and slough through them instead. 

Damien would scold and drag you home if he knew. Huxley would be sad and plead for you to rest, and Lasko would put on his guidance counsellor voice and advise you that a good night's sleep would help you think better. 

The boys mean well, and you love them for it, but you know yourself better than anyone. If you don't finish these assignments tonight, you would just procrastinate until the deadline punches you right in the face. 

You sigh and rub your temple in frustration. You've made good progress so far, but there's still a few left and you want to complete them all before going home. So you resume writing down the essay about the importance of convert and the Department on your laptop, fingers deftly flying all over the keyboard. 

Nighttime at D.A.M.N is not as busy as it is in the morning. The students that are going in and out of classes are mostly Vampires and nocturnal animal Shifters. The academy's faculties are also lesser in terms of numbers compared to their morning counterpart. 

Twice you've experienced the nightlife at D.A.M.N, and tonight would be your third. You wondered if Gavin is at home already. Hopefully, you can return to the apartment before him. Better wrap this up, then. 

The steady rhythm of your fingers on the keyboard and quiet discussion from the group of students slowly lull you to sleep. Hang in there just a little more! 

The sound of a Daemon Rifting into this world startles you awake. 

"Here you are, Deviant," Gavin said, his ordinarily seductive voice laced with conceal anger. Oh shit, you're in trouble now. "I thought we talked about this." 

You have no choice but to face him. Gavin looks devastatingly as sexy as ever; his black t-shirt snugly fits his body to the point that it showcases his biceps tastefully. A pair of dark blue jeans that he just so happens knows will get your heart racing and accompanied by a pair of shiny black Doc Martens boots. A rainbow-coloured bead bracelet is on his right wrist; a gift from Caelum. 

You would've swoon at the sight of him if you weren't seconds away from face planting on your laptop. 

So instead, you greet him with a, "Whaaa... Gavin?" You rub your eyes and blink at him. "W-What are you doing here? I thought you'd be - " You break out a yawn before sighing. "At home by now." 

"Funny. I thought the same thing about you but colour me surprised when Caelum reached out to me while I was grocery shopping — saying that you aren't home even when it's close to midnight." Gavin explains and tilts his head to the spread of books you have before you. "So, want to explain why you're at the campus cafeteria right now instead of in our bed?" 

The gears in your head are scrambling to come up with an excuse that's good enough to appease Gavin. So lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear the whispers coming from the nearby students. 

"That's the main boyfriend..." 

"Holy fuck, an Incubus? Damn, they're insatiable!" 

"How often do you think they have orgies? Twice a week?" 

" - collecting them like Pokemon!" 

Oh fuck it, you can't come up with anything decent. "I'm nearly done with my assignments, Gavin." You assured the worried Incubus. "Just need to write down a few more paragraphs..." 

Gavin is undeterred. "Freelancer, we talked about this. It's not healthy that you're making a habit of staying over at campus late at night because of assignments. You're going to burn out like this." 

Well yeah, you could feel your body is already seconds away from collapsing but like hell would you admit that to your boyfriend. It's been a long day and an even longer evening. It's a good thing that tomorrow's the weekend. 

Gavin startles you once more by leaning against the table and cupping your face in his large hands, so you're forced to look straight into his eyes. He's many things, but to those he deeply trusts and loves, his eyes would always betray the worry and concern he has for you and Caelum; even if his words aren't as forthcoming at times. "My stubborn, enticing Deviant... Are you being a brat again? Not listening to your Dom like you should be?" He purrs. 

All of a sudden, your throat suddenly feels like sandpaper, and your heart skips a beat at Gavin's tone. You're very familiar with that tone - it always promises punishment and pleasure mixed together until nothing else exists except for your boyfriend. 

But the question now is, how far can you actually push him. So with Gavin still refusing to release your face, you swallow and reply as nonchalantly as you can, "Oh, I don't know about enticing, Gavin. I-I mean, I've been running around campus the whole day. Probably have some barbecue sauce stain on my jacket and - Ow!" 

You puff out your cheeks when Gavin pinched them. 

"Are you purposely trying to test me, Freelancer? You know that just means more fun for me, and you tie up and helpless on the bed, right?" Gavin is all too happy to remind you, cocking one eyebrow at your impertinence. No doubt he already has your punishment in mind when the two of you are home. 

But you're not going to budge that easily. Sensing your stubbornness, Gavin lets you go and unleashes his ultimate move with a sigh. 

"I can see the Knots on you, Freelancer, and if I can see them, Caelum can too. I'm not covering your ass when he comes over for breakfast tomorrow and starts crying." 

You gasp and immediately recoil. "Low blow Gavin!" You counter, but you know that he speaks the truth. Your heart will literally break if you're the reason that Caelum cries. 

Gavin smirks when you switch off your laptop. He helps put your things away and offers a hand to you. With a small smile, you let yourself be gently pulled up by him and sling your backpack over a shoulder. 

"Are you hungry?" Gavin asked as the two of you stepped into the large hallway, hand-in-hand. "I didn't manage to make anything when I put the groceries away, but I can whip something up real quick when we get home." 

It's a sweet gesture, and you made sure that he knows how much you appreciate it by squeezing his hand. Ever since you two started living together, Gavin is determined to feed you properly. According to him, it's only fitting since you've constantly been feeding him too. "I'm more sleepy than hungry." You reply after a yawn. "I'll just eat a big breakfast tomorrow." 

"I'll hold you to it. Also, look alive, Deviant. Hottie approaching at 12 O'clock." 

That got your attention immediately, and snapped your eyes forward. Your jaw would've dropped if it weren't for Gavin lightly nudging your side when you saw who was walking towards the two of you. 

It's them — the Electro Energetic that became the talk around campus. 

They're as breathtaking as ever, even after a whole day of classes and club activities. Not a single hair out of place and clothes unruffled. Their body language stood out to you; their gait is a little hesitant but friendly, while their eyes are kind. 

It's easy to see why so many people harbour crushes on them, and you've always been a sucker for cute faces. 

When they finally approach you, they pull out a pair of wireless white earbuds from their ears. That's when you hear intense music playing:

It's the Pumpkin Patch King 

With the corpse with the ring

And she'd fuck my best friend if I die here today...

"Um, hi. Good evening. I'm sorry for bothering you guys so late like this. Are you heading home?" They inquire tentatively. 

Gavin waits for you to take the lead. "Hey, man. Yeah, we kind of are, actually. Want us to walk you home?" You could feel how pleased Gavin is beside you. The offer just crosses your mind, and besides, it's not nice to walk alone this late at night. 

That's what you're telling yourself despite the small part in your brain whispered that walking them home would be a great step of getting to know them better. It's just a harmless crush anyway. 

Unfortunately, they decline the offer. "I'm waiting for someone, actually, but when I saw you, I wanted to talk for a bit." 

Your heart skips a beat for a second time tonight. They specifically sought you out? You? When they've never done so towards anyone before? 

"O-Oh," You embarrassingly squeak, clutching Gavin's hand tighter.

The Electro Energetic nod. They tilt their head like an indulged, curious cat and god, that simple gesture shouldn't look so hot. "I don't know if you notice me, but we share Covert Laws - "

If you notice them? If you notice them!? They have a stronger presence than the lecturers themselves! They radiate magic like thunderstorms - intimidating, powerful and commanding that you have no choice but to submit to it. 

Sitting beside them was an experience and a half! There's no way an Empowered creature could ignore them despite their quiet demeanour! 

" - and I was wondering if you would like to be partners for the final project this year? Um, I heard that you're really good in that class, and I promise to pull my weight with the research and - "

You don't know how to react. Is this really happening? One of the most popular students in the academy wanted to be your project partner? You thought this sort of situation only occurs in animes! 

"They'd love to." Gavin smoothly answers when you're too shocked to say anything. "It's always nice to make new friends after all. Especially with a walking wet dream such as yourself." Here, he purposely pauses to appraise the Electro Energetic. 

Just like his Freelancer, Gavin has heard all about this Empowered human and even basks in the delicious energy coming from the thoughts and emotions his partner has for them. As an Incubus and their boyfriend, it's hilarious that his Deviant thought he's not aware of their crush. It's cute. 

Hmm... it'll be nice if he and the Freelancer could invite the Energetic and their Vampire lover into their bed one of these days. Regardless if they've been Marked; honestly, that just made the couple as appealing as the biblical Forbidden Fruit. 

And besides, Gavin has a strong feeling that the Freelancer wouldn't oppose the idea. It'll be the perfect anniversary present for his Deviant. 

"...Was that supposed to be a compliment?" They ask warily. Oops, looks like he's coming on a little too strongly. Time to take it down a notch. 

"It's whatever you want it to be. Anyway, now that you guys are... partners, what say you get to know us better, hmm? My lover has been eager to be friends with you." Gavin explains. You whip your head at him incredulously. Is he seriously doing what you think he's doing!? "I'm Gavin, by the way. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." 

The Energetic look confused, and you can't blame them. You need to save them before Gavin proposes something as crazy as an orgy on your behalf! 

You laugh awkwardly, bringing their attention to you. "Right! Partners! I'd love to be yours - I-I mean, uh, for school stuff! Yeah! Can we exchange numbers?" 

"Smooth, Deviant." Gavin teases. Something caught his interest, not that you notice as you and the Energetic trade contact information. They compliment the cute picture you have as your Home Screen (it's a selfie shot of you and Gavin, Lasko, Damien and Huxley during the previous game night. It's a shame that Caelum couldn't appear), and in return, you ask where did they buy their sick phone cover. 

While they still feel like the human embodiment of a fierce thunderstorm, it's nice to have a casual conversation with them. They're thoughtful, kind and fun that you soon find yourself calming down a little. 

"Not to cut this riveting conversation short, but are you sure that you don't want us to walk you home? It's getting really late, and we're more than happy to have you crash at our place for the night." Gavin interjects with a seductive grin, eyes half-lidded. 

"Umm..." 

Whoa, what happened to being friendly, Gavin!? You shoot him a look; he's going to drive them away! 

"We have an extra guest room at our apartment." You hurried to explain. "So it's totally cool if your place is far away or something." 

Their hesitation melts to understanding. The last thing that you want is a misunderstanding between you two. 

"You guys are sweet, but I'll be alright. Actually, I'm about to leave the campus too. I'm just going to hang out at the cafeteria until he arrives." They said. You have a pretty good idea who 'he' is judging by their soft smile. 

Gavin, for some reason, amp up his game. With a smirk, he cajoles, "Since he hasn't shown up yet, how about you hang out with us for a bit? There's a bar not too far from here - "

You flinched, and Gavin automatically shuts up and pulls you close to his side when a Vampire appears behind the Electro Energetic. It was so sudden that his appearance was a blur at first. 

"Vincent? You're done with class already?" They blink. An arm snaked around their waist as the Vampire pulled his Mate close to his chest. The Energetic had to crane their head up slightly to look at him. 

He's as tall as Gavin. Dressed in a casual black coat that screams money with a dark grey shirt accompanied by a pair of black jeans and boots. His silver studs, rings and watch glimmer underneath the fluorescent lights. Everything about this man reminds you of a panther sizing up its prey. 

You gulped. He's currently glaring daggers at you and your boyfriend. You're itching to stutter out a, "This isn't what it looks like!" for some reason. 

Now, ever since you learned about the existence of magic and Empowered creatures, you did your best to be open-minded. Even that whole ordeal with Vega didn't stop you from reaching out to the various Daemons attending the academy. 

However, you haven't managed to befriend a Vampire due to their night classes, and even the few times you stay back like today, most of them are running back and forth through the hallways to catch their next lesson. 

So to be the target of a pissed off Vampire made you uncomfortable. You want to fidget, but Gavin's arm secured around you ease some of that tension. 

"Mm-hmm. I'm on break right now, so I can drive you back home. You done with that talk with your guidance counsellor?" The Vampire inquired, eyes still glued at you and Gavin. 

"All done. We lost track of time when we discussed next semester's timetable for the Energetic course and potential careers once we graduate." His lover explains, unaware of the displeasure rolling off like waves from their boyfriend. "I think I need some time to go over them again. It's a bit much to take in."

The Vampire hums in acknowledgement. "We can go through them together this weekend if you like, Lovely. Maybe we can ask Will for help since he's coming over on Saturday for dinner too." 

Oh, you suppose that's why they reject the Earth Elemental players' invitation to the party. 

But the Vampire wasn't done. He assesses you and Gavin with narrowed eyes as if you were stains on the bottom of his boots. What the hell? "By the way, are these guys bothering you?" 

A chill sweeps through you, sending goosebumps crawling on your skin at the sudden shift of tone. He was warm and affectionate when speaking to his lover, but now? It's colder than ice.

Gavin, whose smirk turns into a shit-eating grin, is utterly unfazed at the Vampire's hostility. In fact, you would go as far as to say that he's relishing it. "We're just keeping your gorgeous Mate company while they're waiting for you. I was just about to propose that we move the conversation to a bar so we could all get to know one another a lot more... intimately." 

Oh god, they're so fucked. You have no idea why your boyfriend is trying to start shit up, but you're too tired to deal with this drama. So again, you try to salvage the situation. 

"Just as friends!" You quickly butt in. "We decide to be partners for an assignment in Covert Laws, so hanging out at a bar sounds like a good idea as friends." You're sprouting bullshits at this point, but you hope it's enough to save both of your asses. You also made sure to emphasise the word 'friends'. 

The Vampire quickly looks at the Energetic for confirmation, and they readily nod. His aggressive body posture relaxes somewhat, but he's still wary of you and Gavin. 

Maybe this is the best time to introduce yourself to him. 

"Uh, it's a little silly that we didn't introduce ourselves right away, but I'm a Freelancer." You mutter out rather awkwardly. Should you offer a hand to him? 

Gavin saves you from doing so. "And I’m their boyfriend, Gavin. An Incubus." 

"...Vincent Solaire." The Vampire - Vincent - reluctantly replies. 

Wait - his surname sounds familiar, though. You think you heard it in one of the classes about the supernatural factions in Dahlia... It's on the tip of your tongue... 

"Oh, we've heard all about you, Your Highness." Gavin slyly quips. "You and your lover are quite the celebrities around here." 

Holy shit. Solaire! The most powerful Vampire clan in the city! You remember now; the King has two progeny - A Vampire Princess & Prince. You didn't expect the Energetic boyfriend to be the Prince himself! What a twist! 

"Celebrities?" The Energetic - Lovely, as Vincent calls them - pipes up in confusion. The way their eyebrows furrow is adorable, but you wisely keep that to yourself. 

They really are a mesmerising couple. You detect the perfume that lingers around Lovely is sweet and misty. It's calming yet so light that it dances just out of your reach; like a coy lover. Slowly driving you mad with desire. Vincent's cologne reminds you of husk and cedar. Subtle, but once you catch a whiff of it, it'll stay within your mind for hours on end. Wondering if that particular scent will ever return - like the perfect one night stand. 

It says a lot about the couple. 

"We haven't done anything wrong." Vincent Solaire stated, voice as hard as steel. "I don't know why you're trying to rile us up, Incubus, but I don't appreciate you and your lover hitting on my Mate when I made it clear that I Mark them." 

Ooooh, he's jealous! Wait - did you come across as flirty to him!? Did Gavin purposely flirt with Lovely to make Vincent jealous? You've completely lost the plot. 

"Consider it as an act of public service," Gavin answers, easily brushing off the Vampire Prince's irritability. "Besides, how can I not when you both are half of the student body's recent fantasies." 

Lovely 'eeped' when Vincent bare his fangs at your boyfriend. "Back off, Gavin. Lovely is mine. Not yours or the Freelancer's." 

Whoa, whoa! A severe misunderstanding is boiling here! No one is stealing Lovely away from him! 

Fortunately, Lovely has gotten tired of the conversation. With a put-out sigh, they pat the arm around their waist to capture Vincent's attention. It worked. "No one is stealing the other's partner, Vince. It's all good; chill. You know you're the only one for me, right?" Here, they peck his cheek. "When did you get so possessive?" 

Vincent grumbled but didn't explain himself, so Lovely just shook their head. 

"Anyway, we better get going before Vincent's next class starts. It was nice meeting you two. I'll text you soon so we can plan on how to tackle that project." 

You give a shaky smile and a thumbs up. "Looking forward to it." 

Immediately after you said that, Vincent bares his fangs to you next. Oh my god, this guy needs to fucking relax! 

"We're going! We're going! C'mon, Vincent. You're driving me home. Now." 

And with that, you watch as Lovely drags the Vampire Prince to the parking lot. It's a strange yet comical sight. You only sigh in relief when they're out of your view. 

"I thought I saw my life flashing before my eyes!" You complain. Those were the single most stressful moments that you’ve encountered— second to Vega invading your home. 

"I think that went well, Deviant." Gavin objected, very pleased with himself. "He's pissed now, but he and his Mate will be thanking us soon." 

So you were right; Gavin purposely flirted with Lovely just to rile Vincent up, and for what? Possessive, sexy time later tonight? Oh, whatever. That's enough drama for one night; you seriously just need to pass out now. 

And with that, the two of you head home without realising your interactions with the power couple of D.A.M.N didn't go by unnoticed by the several students who were hovering close. 

-

"Are you hurting anywhere, Lovely?" 

"I'm alright, Vincent. The hickeys and bruises are healing nicely; my body still feels a bit sore but not enough to cripple me, so stop hovering near the door." 

Vincent guilty did as he’s told and takes a seat on the corner of the bed. He watches you apply some light makeup on your face and neck in front of the vanity table as you're getting ready to head out to the academy. Your outfit compliments your look and, most importantly, hides any patches of skin except for your hands. 

Vincent really went all out last weekend after his night classes ended. It's obvious that Gavin unleashed something within your lover, and you will freely admit that an unrestrained Vincent makes for a very fun and wild night. 

The moment Will came over and realised that Vincent re-Mark you an hour before he arrives, he graciously decided to take a rain check and promise to have dinner with the two of you some other time. 

Once Vincent gets it out of his system, he teased before leaving you gobsmacked and Vincent a blushing mess. 

"You know, your guidance counsellor wouldn't mind if you're absent from classes today, Lovely. Probably." Vincent tries; a part of him doesn't want his Lovely to attend their lessons while their body is still healing. Then again, that part also whispers that the Incubus and his lover would be around them without his supervision. 

Nope. No. Bad Vincent. Lovely is more than capable of taking care of themselves. They don't need him acting like a jealous, clingy boyfriend. 

However, something that the Incubus bothered him. 

"You and your lover are quite the celebrities around here." 

What did he mean by that? He and Lovely had been playing good students the entire time they've been on campus! Their assignments are always delivered on time, grades nothing but above average, and they keep to themselves to avoid any typical college dramas.  

Is it because of his status? For some reason, Vincent feels like it's more complicated than that. What a headache. 

"Maybe, but I did promise the Freelancer that I’ll catch up with them to discuss our project," You commented and spritz your favourite perfume on your wrists and neck. You love this scent, despite it being cheap and common. "Vincent, honey, you're making that face again." 

"It's my face, Lovely." 

"Yeah, well, you have your happy-snappy-neck face again, Vincent." You dryly point out before sitting beside the Vampire. "Did that Incubus really rub you the wrong way?" Your voice is gentle. You didn't get any bad vibes coming from Gavin and the Freelancer - just genuine, harmless, friendly flirting. In a way, you welcome it as their attempts helped you drive your anxiety away. 

God, walking up to them was hard enough. You always feel a little intimidated whenever you're around charismatic people. 

"I don't know... I thought they were making you nervous, and the words that kept coming out of that Daemon's mouth? He knew what he was doing; I just can't figure out what or why." Vincent admits, frustrated. 

Seeing him look so frustrated saddens you, so you propose a suggestion. "How about this, I'll ask the Freelancer what that whole thing on Friday was all about, and if it's anything gross, I'll give you a call so you can deal with them. How's that?" 

It assured Vincent. Seeing his tiny smile urge you to peppered his face with kisses until he laughs. With your boyfriend now properly appeased, you leave the apartment for D.A.M.N. 

It's a bright Monday morning. You hope that this week will be a little kinder to you than the previous one. However, the moment you arrived on campus, everyone was glancing at you curiously. When you made eye contact with the stares, the students couldn't walk away fast enough. 

Weird. 

Your first class of the day is on the second floor, so you didn't waste any time heading for the stairs. Students mingle around as they go about their day; some grab breakfast at the convenient store, while others chat with their friends at the cafeteria and lounge room. A Water Elemental is performing simple tricks at the marble fountain to an adoring crowd.

Just as you rounded a corner, the crowd parted ways with a subtlety of a serial killer in slasher movies, which is to say, absolutely none whatsoever to reveal your new friend. The Freelancer is flanked by their boyfriend, Gavin, on the left and on their right, the famous player in the Earth Elemental team Huxley and one of the academy's guidance counsellors, Lasko. 

You couldn't help but notice that everyone is giving them a wide berth. Not that it matters when Gavin's body is positioned to shield the Freelancer from bumping into any of the passing students. Huxley passes a bottle of orange juice to them while Lasko is staring at something behind the Freelancer. He mutters something under his breath.  

A loud voice suddenly bounces off the walls. "What happened to my water tumbler, Freelancer!?" 

You and every other student in the area watch as the Freelancer turns around and loudly replies, "Don't worry! I already got you a new tumbler, Damien! It looks exactly like your old one. Except it's pastel pink with kittens on it, and the shape looks like a really fat snowman with bunny ears for straws." To make a point, the Freelancer rummage inside of their backpack and proudly present the weirdest looking water tumbler you had ever seen in your life to their boys. 

"AAAAAHHHHH!" 

"You know you could at least see it before you judge it, Damien." The Freelancer grumbled and shoved the tumbler back. Huxley gently pats their shoulder in a comforting manner. Lasko laughs nervously while Gavin continues to protect his lover silently, all the while looking at ease. 

Everyone knows of the Freelancer and their boyfriends. They're the most popular group in D.A.M.N for a reason. Friendly, yet no one can be a part of their group due to the tight bond they have with one another.

The Freelancer is quickly shaping up to be a remarkable magical individual in their own right, marching to the beat of their own drums rather than the world's. Unwaveringly kind and friendly, constantly making sure the people around them are comfortable and safe. 

In terms of academic performance, Damien remains unchallenged among his peers. Everyone could tell that he would undoubtedly change their world for the better the moment he graduates, especially in governing. He's also known for his fiery temper, yet that fire becomes a hearth when it comes to the Freelancer. More than once, students have stumbled upon them huddled close in the library, softly discussing the future they wanted. 

If Damien is known for his academic excellence, then Huxley is famous for his prowess in the field. His mastery over his element made the younger Earth Elementals look up to him as their role model while his teammates view him as their ace. Charming, cheerful yet a bit absentminded at times, and even then, you can't help but be fond of him. You can find the Freelancer cheering him from the bleachers during his matches, and once Huxley won the game, he would immediately launch himself at them. Sweats, dirt and grass all over him, but the Freelancer would laugh as he hoisted them up in his embrace. 

Lasko is an odd addition to their group, but once he drops his stuttering, he shows just how capable he is as one of the academy's guidance counsellors. Acknowledged as one of the most powerful Air Elemental of his generation, Lasko is well on track to graduate D.A.M.N with honours, and while the future might be uncertain, students like to speculate that he will remain with the Freelancer and the others no matter what. Sometimes you can even catch a glimpse of them hanging out at one of the local cafes and see how bright and alive Lasko can be when around the Freelancer. 

Gavin came with a mystery trailing his saunter. See, no one knew how exactly he and the Freelancer first met. Speculations range from a cute, accidental meet up in a random convenience store to the Incubus boldly inviting them into a threesome when the Freelancer stumbled upon him mid-feeding. Lovely wonders if there's a betting pool going around the academy. The seniors would recognise Gavin, for he was their peer before he suddenly dropped out and vanished for a while. But judging by his frequent presence around the Freelancer, some say that he's looking forward to retaking his previous course. But whatever the reason may be, no one can deny the chemistry he has with the Freelancer. How fiercely protective he is of them when the Freelancer isn't looking. 

They're certainly an intriguing group, that's for sure. 

And when Gavin notices you were watching them, he winks at you. No doubt as an Incubus, he could scent what you and Vincent had been up to the entire weekend. 

That's what you get for a magical academy, after all. 

-

PS: Everyone in D.A.M.N (including Lovely & Vincent) hilariously assumes that the Freelancer is in a poly relationship with Gavin, Damien, Lasko & Huxley when in reality, they're just with Gavin. BBBBuuuttt... Gavin could detect the romantic/lustful feelings the other bois harbour for the Freelancer but kept it to himself for now. He's just waiting for the Freelancer to feel the same way so he could give them all The Talk™ and then go buy a bigger bed!

Anyway, I seriously had a lot of fun writing for this oneshot! It's been a while since I had that writing fever again so I hope you guys enjoyed it!

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 3, Chp. 9″

"Black Butterfly, sail across the waters Tell your sons and daughters what the struggle brings Black Butterfly, set the skies on fire Rise up even higher So the ageless winds of time can catch your wings"

Deniece Williams – "Black Butterfly"

Disa spotted Pamela in the middle of the floor.

The moment the beat hit her ears, Pamela threw her head back and tossed her ass in a circle letting Disa know it was good to go.

The beginning was always the difficult part of her sets when she was trying to create a montage of feelings through sound. There were peaks and valleys she had to hit in order to hold the audience hostage. She almost lost it halfway through Zana High Life when the host shouted out DJ Geechee Dan standing on the side of the stage. Disa had been trying to find him up in the VIP section and he was right there, less than twenty feet from her watching her cut up a live mix.

It was Erik that saved her from bumbling her set as she focused on him moving instead of Geechie Dan being so near her. He came out of nowhere and she had no idea he could dance so well. The boy showed out and Pamela tried to keep up. It brought a smile to her lips to see him grab her homegirl and dance Pamela around. No one had ever been able to hang with her, and Erik pushed the woman to go all out.

Disa reeled everyone back in when she let Erik's voice quote "Beloved" over the music. He matched the tone of the syncopated beats. It sounded romantic. Dreamy. She took a respite and let the mix play as she watched him dance. So fluid. Like water. She knew he practiced capoeira and decided to go off script and freestyle her set. Dragging down some berimabau sounds, she cued up a Brazilian jam and dropped it on top of her own drumming in time to the stringed instrument. It struck like a thunderbolt on Erik and it shocked her to see him backflip and hold his body in a handstand as his legs moved in slow motion before he crouched on the floor low and swayed to the ancient sounds.

The boy was bad.

Loose hips and expressive arm movement fooled everyone into thinking he was just jamming instead of showing off a martial art. Disa was in awe and almost missed her next transition cue because she was so mesmerized by him. How could that brainy, standoffish, and arrogant man-child turn into a snake-hipped God of the dance?

Pamela jumped back on him and Disa played with them both by skipping her planned closing and taking the two of them to the Black Queer spaces she roamed with Pamela and friends. Punching up the voice of the icon Selvin Mizrahi, aka MC Debra, Disa brought in ballroom beats.

"That shouldn't have been the question," echoed about the space and Pamela stopped dancing with Erik and pointed a finger at Disa.

"Don't play with me, bitch!" Pamela shouted before she dropped to the floor and duck walked like the diva she was. This attracted their other homegirl Tatum who dipped several times making Yamilet stand aside with weak knees. Pamela played with Tatum in a simulated ballroom battle over Erik's attention until Tatum pushed Pamela aside and twirled around the youngster capturing his attention. The audience roared when Erik dropped into his own duck walk challenging Tatum. Erik's friends howled and the entire venue lost it when he dipped three times in front of Tatum making her storm off in a pretend huff as he duck walked after her before spinning on his back and shoulders. He grabbed Tatum's hand and ground on her ass with the closing notes of Disa's set. Loud whistles and claps erupted, and she waved to the crowd before the lights switched over to the next DJ who looked frightened at the prospect of following up after her.

Tatum rushed over to her swiping back long strands of crimped and twisty hair.

"Girl, your lil man was out here giving what he was supposed to give! Is he…?"

"Erik? No, I don't believe so."

"He was putting that thang on me like he wanted a piece of the good, Sis. He grab on me again like that and I'll let him get a taste."

Tatum's dark brown eyes were glossy from drinking and she followed Disa as she carried her crate of vinyl to the green room.

"He's not the type to turn mean if he knows….y'now…" Tatum said.

"He's very open. I don't think he'd trip to know you're Trans."

"Good. Cuz he could get it from any of these women out here. Did you see him move? I know Pamela is butt hurt that she was not the center of the dance universe tonight."

Tatum watched her tuck her crate under a covered table and push them far back with her jacket on top of it with her computer bag.

"I liked how you closed out your set."

"People liked it, yeah?"

"Yeah, but I worry cuz you know how these niggas be wildin' if you bring in the Fam in hetero spaces. Everybody turns into homophobe and kills the vibe for everybody."

Disa's cell buzzed. She pulled it from her back pocket.

"Yamilet and them. She's out by the car now."

Disa dragged her crate back out and Tatum carried her computer bag for her. They headed outside to the parking lot. Yamilet was there with Pamela, and Essie. She opened her trunk and Disa dumped her stuff. The women gave her joyous hugs and high fives before they traipsed back in to catch the other DJs.

Erik ran up to her breathless.

"Hey! I thought you were leaving!"

Disa patted his arm.

"No, just putting my gear away. Erik, these are my friends…"

She introduced everyone, and Erik shook their hands. Tatum and Pamela gave him big hugs and Yamilet snapped her fingers at him.

"Geechie… Hey! Geechie Dan, hold up!" Erik shouted.

Disa's heart dropped in her belly. Erik shook her idol's hand and brought him over to Disa.

"This is Disa Abdullah-Woods, your biggest fan," Erik said.

"My dear, sweet, woman, you are a master class of gifts. That set was-"

Geechie Dan kissed his fingers to end his praise.

Disa held out a trembling hand to him.

"No, that's not gonna do, Buttafly. Bring it in," he said opening his arms wide.

Disa burst into tears.

"Hey, I'm nobody to cry over," he whispered.

Geechie Dan gave Disa a big hug, and she stood there like a blubbering baby. The years that she spent practicing what she would say to the man if she ever met him in person went straight out the window. She used to laugh at people who became overly emotional meeting celebrities, but now she totally understood the overwhelming feeling that surged through her.

She wiped her eyes and Erik rubbed her back with gentle circles.

"I've been a fan since I was a little kid," she stammered out.

"Erik here told me. I told him how much I enjoyed his dancing and he just went in about you."

A crowd surrounded Geechie Dan, but he ignored them, his twinkling eyes on her.

"It has been a long time since I've seen a DJ create a set with so much intention behind it. You have something special in you, young lady. Never lose that gift."

Disa's mouth seemed to lose all ability to work. All the things she wanted to say stalled in her throat. He was there in the flesh. Standing in front of her.

"Disa has a radio show you should go on," Erik suggested.

"Oh yeah? Give me your number. I'll call you up and we can chop it up."

Geechie Dan pulled out his cell and Disa gave him her number, her voice a soft shell of its usual assertive tone.

"When I get some free time, I'll hit you up. Excuse me, they want me back up on stage. Amazing set, Disa. Keep spinning!"

The man shook her hand with both of his and his entourage and promoters swept him away.

"She's still in shock," Yamilet said waving her hand in Disa's face.

Erik's bright smile attracted her attention. Had he not spoken to the man, Disa may very well have missed her opportunity to meet him, let alone remember to ask the man for a radio interview. Her mind floated with the surreal nature of the experience. Her cell buzzed.

Here's my number. I'll be in New York in a few weeks, would be open to an in-person radio interview.

Geechee Dan's personal cell number. She had it. In her palm.

Disa reached out and grabbed Erik's shoulders. She planted a big fat kiss on his lips.

"Damn, what was that for?" he said.

"Being here," she said.

He wiped his lips and smiled.

"Erik…"

Chloe slinked up and slipped her arm in Erik's, tugging him towards the dance floor. Disa watched him enter the thick crowd of swaying bodies to dance once more.

###

Her night was a dreamy success.

Disa stayed in a popular hotel with her friends, and they hung out in the bar. Erik strolled into the lobby with his friends. In a tipsy stupor, Disa walked over to him with a fresh drink in her hand. "Didn't know you were staying here too," she said.

He took the drink from her and sipped it down.

"Hey… you can't drink this here out in the open, you're underage!"

She snatched it away from his lips.

"Nah, it's after midnight… I'm twenty-one now," he said.

"Oh, shit. It's your birthday? Today?"

"Yep."

"Happy Birthday, Erik!"

She hugged him tight and gave him the glass of liquor.

"Enjoy," she said.

"What room are we in?" Jace asked.

Erik's dorm companion looked sleepy along with two other guys.

"301," Erik said handing Jace a key card.

Disa's friends called for her to return to the bar counter.

"Come celebrate with us," she said pointing to her group.

"I'm beat, to be honest. Thanks for asking me though."

"If you change your mind, we'll be down here."

"Good to know."

"Thanks for everything, Erik. Tonight was really special and meant a lot to me. Especially with you hooking me up with Geechie Dan."

"Glad to make your dream come true."

His eyes penetrated hers.

"Okay grown-ass man, go to bed," she said pushing on his arm playfully.

"You're drunk," he teased.

"A happy one at that," she said stumbling off to join her girls.

Three more drinks later, after a heated discussion with a group of men who hovered around them trying to interject their unwanted opinions about dating, Disa leaned over the bar counter and asked for a special birthday cocktail for Erik. She went to the lobby restroom, collected the drink afterward, and excused herself from her friends. She took the elevator to the third floor and found Erik's room. The fruity exotic drink had a lot of strong liquor in it. Knocking on the door, she waited for someone to answer. She could hear a tv on and talking going on inside.

Kelvin, a cute nerdy string bean answered the door.

"Is Erik up?" she asked.

Kelvin's eyes nearly popped out looking at her.

"You were so good," he yelped.

"Thank you… um… Erik?"

"He's not here."

"Not here? Did he go out?"

"No, he's in that room," Kelvin said pointing across the hall to room 302.

"Thanks," she said.

Kelvin closed the door and Disa did a one-eighty and rapped her knuckles on the new door. She toyed with the blue umbrella and pineapple garnish on his drink. Erik answered. Shirtless and wearing tight gray boxers.

"Hey," she said.

"Um… Hi. 'sup?"

"Birthday drink. A proper one."

She thrust it out to him and tried to brush past him, but he held an arm up in the door jamb blocking her. Her brain failed to register that he didn't want her inside, and she bumped against him, her breasts touching his chest.

"I can't come in?"

"I have someone here," he said.

Her eyes cut behind him. Chloe was draped in nothing but a sheet, the tops of her breasts threatening to spill over her arm that clutched the covers.

"Oh, snap. I'm sorry. I thought you were staying with the guys over there. Didn't realize you had your own room. Here, enjoy the drink," she said.

Erik took the bulbous glass, and his expression was full of embarrassment. He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. Disa stepped back from him and fumbled with her hands.

"Handle your business. It's time for me to get to bed myself… get some sleep. Have fun!"

She tried to sound jovial, but something in the back of her throat made her voice accusatory. As if she caught him doing something behind her back. For months she thought of Erik as her little pet. He was her loyal puppy, and she had to admit she enjoyed all the fawning he did over her. But he was also a young man with needs. She tried not to look at the package that was hanging in his underwear. The outline of it was showing off. God forbid if he was a grower too.

"Me and Chloe kinda got this thing going on now…"

"New girlfriend and good birthday sex is a blessing. Night Erik."

She turned to leave and pivoted back to him.

"Can I put on a birthday dinner for you and your family? I know you're planning on eating at Toulouse, but I would love to host your birthday party at my place."

"That's too much Disa. I have a lot of people coming in from all over."

"How many?"

"Fifteen—"

"Pfft, boy, you've been to my dinner parties, you know how I get down. Fifteen is nothing for me."

"The cost alone will be crazy—"

"Let me handle that. You deserve a special day. You made my night amazing, let me show my appreciation. What would you like to eat?"

Erik's eyes grew thoughtful, they dropped to look at his drink.

"I love your Confit de Canard,"

"Aw, I see. I finally got you to give in to duck meat."

"It's gonna be hella expensive."

"Don't worry about it. Let's say six sharp on Saturday, three courses and Turkish coffee with a birthday cake."

His eyes lit up.

"I'll let my people know."

"Tell them to dress up. I'll plan a splendid evening with games afterward."

Erik grabbed her hand and pulled her in close.

"Thank you," he said.

"Better get back to Chloe. Don't want her chewing my head off for keeping all of this out of the bed."

She smirked at him and wandered down the hall.

###

Chloe had a frown n her face when Erik walked back into the hotel room.

"What did she want?"

"Birthday gift," he said holding up the fancy drink.

He sipped it, and the liquor was too strong for his tastes. It would knock him out before he had a chance to smash Chloe. He put the glass on the nightstand and pulled off his boxers. His dick was already at half-mast.

"Why is your dick like that already?"

Chloe sat up, and the frown on her face deepened.

"Looking at you gets me excited," he countered.

Hopping into the bed, he pulled back the sheets and swiped her nipples with his tongue.

"You're attracted to her."

"Disa? That's my homegirl—"

"Everyone knows you have a crush on her. You turn into a puddle whenever she's around."

Chloe folded her arms over her breasts blocking his access.

"If your dick is getting hard for her, maybe you should get some birthday sex from her instead!"

"Chloe. Stop trippin'. I'm giving this dick to you."

He rubbed the hardening length against her thigh. She slapped it.

"Wanna play rough?" he said.

"Was your dick hard for that Trans chick too?"

"What?"

"Disa's friend. The one with the long fluffy hair. You didn't know?"

"No. She fine as fuck though."

"You'd fuck a Trans woman?"

There was disgust on her face.

Erik sat up. He'd been around Trans women and Trans men all his life, especially in Brazil. He had a Trans play uncle in Sao Paulo who used to babysit him and his play cousin Marisol.

"A woman is a woman. She got titties I can play with and a hole I can fuck, I don't see a problem—"

"Ohmigod! You really would fuck her."

"That ass was amazing."

"I can't believe you're serious!"

"Are you a queerphobe? Cuz if you are, that's not gonna work for me."

"No… I just… I can't picture you being like that."

"Like what?"

"Accepting. You're like a man's man—"

"A Transphobe? I wasn't raised like that. My mother would never let me treat people like shit who didn't deserve it."

Chloe stared down at her hands.

"I'm glad to hear that, actually."

"Yeah? Why?"

Her eyes welled up.

"My sister… she's transitioning… he's becoming my brother and I worry about him going up against guys like you."

"Guys like me?"

"Y'know overly masculine. He's coming to visit me in a few weeks and I wanted you to meet him since he's interested in capoeira."

Her eyes met his.

"I didn't mean to be accusatory about Disa's friend. She's beautiful. Prettier than me."

"You're the prettiest woman in this room right now."

She slapped his hand and smiled.

"But you do like Disa. Right?"

"She's my friend. I had a big crush on her when I first arrived on campus, but now… she's like a mentor… a big sister. We're close and she teaches all kinds of cool stuff. I probably do act all goofy when I'm around her—"

"It's cute… really. I just… let's forget about it."

He kissed her. With guilt. Disa meant more to him than just a big sister or a mentor. She was the ultimate woman. But she would never see him as a man.

Chloe wrapped her lips around his dick and rolled a condom on his shaft after she plumped him up to complete hardness. She presented her backside to him and he sank into her walls and pumped, enjoying her soft sighs and cries of passion. He took off the condom much later as she allowed him to fuck her raw in the ass and dump a hot load in her anal walls. She kept his mind off of Disa and those lush breasts that truly made his dick thicken and visibly tell Chloe the truth. Disa was his dream girl. Everyone could see it.

###

The large package arrived at Disa's house the day before Erik's birthday party. She called him on his phone to tell them that a big box with a D.C. return address and B. Dunduza written in black block letters was sitting in her living room.

He drove over to her house, and Disa watched him tear it open. There was a note on top of the bubble wrap.

"Kept these in storage for you. We wanted to wait until you turned twenty-one to have them. Cherish them as we cherish you."

Uncle Bakari and Auntie Shavonne both signed it.

Erik removed the layer of bubble wrap and his heart nearly stopped.

He fingered the old dark brown leather, and a breath shuddered out of him.

"Erik? You alright?" Disa asked.

She put a hand on his shoulder as he lifted the leather-bound journal from the box.

"These are my father's journals," he whispered.

Opening the first journal, he recognized the careful Wakandan script written by his father's powerful hand. They taped a small piece of bubble wrap on the page. Erik unraveled it and gasped before falling on his backside.

"What is it?" Disa asked, rising concern coloring her voice

Opening his fingers, Erik stared at the wondrous gift.

His Baba's ring. Attached to the chain his mother bought for him as an anniversary gift. The chain his father wore the night he was killed by King T'Chaka.

His family birthright.

Now his.

Chapter 10 HERE

###

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[sunset-curve-fantom]

Hi ! Could I posible a Luke Patterson request? In which the reader starts hanging with Reggie a lot and Luke gets jealous ? And they realize he has a thing for you or something like that 😭

JEALOUSLY- LUKE AND READER

A/N: I HOPE YOU ENJOY- I PUT ALITTLE TWIST ON IT!

For as long as you can remember, Luke Patterson was your best friend. There was many of times where you guys had slumber parties, or long nights of partying that ended in fits of laughter. Luke had always been your number one, the one you always turned to with your problems. But that all changed when Julie Molina rolled into your lives.

Being the stage manager for Sunset Curve, you and Luke shared a unique bond even further than the title of best friends. You knew what he needed in certain songs, that he needed exactly four extra guitar picks on his microphone stand, even that he wore a lucky tie around his left arm for each performance.

Julie didn’t know any of that- but she did know that she liked Luke’s attention and the music he was writing. Your music journal was beginning to collect dust. As the song writing sessions turned from your and Luke’s time to write into his and Julie’s.

You were slowly being pushed to the sidelines and so was your music. You were losing your best friend to her. Instead of keeping to yourself, you turned to the one person who listened most… Reggie Peters.

“God Reg- is he blind? He’s losing his best friend and he doesn’t even realize it. Luke is so focused on that… that… ugh her. I thought our music meant something… I thought I meant something.” you said, pacing in Julie’s kitchen as she worked on yet another song with Luke.

You roughly raked your hand through your tangled hair as your pacing continued, the sole of your shoes making contact with the hardwood. You were sure your walking pattern would be worn into the floor permanently.

“Okay- you need to stop pacing… you are making me dizzy darling.” Reggie said, rubbing his eyes as he watched you spin towards him.

A small chuckle escaped as he sat down at the island, waiting for you to talk more.

“I just… we have been best friends since we were 7, and now I am a shadow in his past. She took the forefront of his attention and now- God Reg, what do I do?” you said, leaning against the island.

Your mind was swarming with questions, but you had no real answers as to why Luke could forget you so easily. The amount of stress caused by this situation had sent your anxiety into high gear, your manicured nails had turned into nubs and scars littered your arms due to excessive scratching and picking. Your small, perfect world was beginning to crash in on all sides… all because you were losing your best friend, you were losing Luke.

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you looked up at Reggie, he was just staring right back at you. A clear look of concentration crossing his normally confused features.

Confusion crossed your own features as you asked, “What? Is there something on my face?”

You gently brushed both of your cheeks as he gently chuckled at you, the one thing about Reggie was he made you feel better no matter how much Luke was getting under your skin.

“No, you dork… I was trying to picture how Luke can blow you off. Clearly you are the better choice here.” He said, making a vibrant blush cross your features.

“Flattery will get you nowhere Mr. Peters…” you joked, as laughter fell from your lips, only making Reggie join in with you.

Laughter boomed through the kitchen which only drew in Luke and Julie’s attention. They came in the back door, with confusion written all over their own faces.

“What the hell is going on here?” Luke’s voice boomed, as you wiped the laughter induced tears from your eyes. The laughter continued to spill from your lips as you tried catching your breath.

You opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Reggie, “We were waiting for you two… clearly you needed to have a little love song fest. So, are you ready for rehearsal now?”

A snicker fell from your lips as you watched the shocked face of both Luke and Julie… Reggie may be a bit slow, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew that Julie and Luke’s new closeness was bothering you, so why not say something?

You bumped hips with Reggie as you started heading to the backdoor, “So are we rehearsing or not?”

Reggie couldn’t help but smile as he headed out behind you, leaving Julie and Luke even more confused than before.

You plopped down on the couch, a small shiver coming over your body. The change in the weather was as apparent as Julie’s crush on Luke. Reggie was the only one who noticed, as usual. He handed you his leather jacket, before picking up his bass and making sure everything was in tune.

Alex was neatly seated behind his drum set as Julie and Luke slowly stalked back into the garage. Luke briefly caught my gaze before you averted your eyes, focusing on the magazines on the coffee table. You couldn’t help but chew on the inside of your cheek as you were drawn into your thoughts.

How could two best friends, go from attached at the hip to being like total strangers with an extra dose of awkwardness somewhere in between.

A soft melody began to fill the space, and it was immediately clear what song it was. It was the one song that you wrote for Luke on your own and spilled every ounce of love into.

The words softly fell from his lips as he strung his guitar slowly, Julie had a careful eye on him.

Love me as I am

I'll hold your music here inside my hands

We say we're friends, we play pretend

You're more to me, we're everything

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we're

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Your gaze couldn’t help but fall onto him as he finished the final lyrics of the song. He shot you a quick glance before switching over to his electric guitar. A swift blush swept over your features as your looked down at your beat-up converse.

Gently pushing yourself off the couch, you made your way over to Reggie. Just trying to not focus on Julie and Luke as they ran through some new lyrics.

“Hey babes” you said, the words just swiftly rolling off your tongue, drawing Luke’s attention to you. He watched as your hand went from your side onto Reggie’s shoulder, he watched as laugher fell from your lips. All he could think about was there was a time where the two of you were thick as thieves, and now you were more interested in Reggie than him.

“Yes- Hello Jealously” Reggie said, causing laughter to spill from you. You gently shoved his shoulder, before following his gaze. Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you saw Luke’s intense gaze on you and Reggie. It was like he was emitting jealously as well- but what could he be jealous of?

“He’s been watching you this whole time” Reggie said, drawing your attention from Luke. You just scoffed at him.

“Yeah okay. He doesn’t have time to watch me when he’s with her.” You said, rolling your eyes at him. Your reaction only made Reggie break out in laughter.

“Oh shush… come here. I wanna show you something” He said, taking off his bass before looping it over you.

“You know I can’t play an instrument to save my life… right?” you said, your hands becoming clammy with nerves.

He guided your hands to the proper placement on the bass, making sure you had a decent idea of what he was going to tell you.

“Just play these notes... okay?”  He said, showing you just a quick scale.

Taking a deep breath, you played the same scale with only minor difficulty. A smile erupted across your face as you pulled the bass off you. You couldn’t help but jump into Reggie’s arms, laughter echoing from the both of you.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” You said repeatedly before placing a swift kiss to his cheek.

“Okay- what the hell is going on?” Luke bellowed from across the room, the displeasure was extremely clear in his voice. You couldn’t help the smirk that crossed your face as he walked closer to you and Reggie.

“I’m sorry? Why does my life have anything to do with you? You made your decision a long time ago” You spat back at him, standing your ground next to Reggie.

He scoffed back at you, “I’ve been busy for 5 minutes and you moved on… I think you are the one who made up your mind so clearly.”

“I’m not the only one who made up their mind, Luke. You are so blind; you don’t even see that you chose Julie over me. I have been your best friend since we were 7 and now… now I am nothing to you. So, you don’t get to bash me for how I fix what you broke.” You said harshly, tears beginning to fill your eyes.

He was speechless, Luke looked at you the same way he did when you met all those years ago. You had fallen off your bike in front of the Patterson’s house and he came out to help. He looked at you with such sadness because of how badly you hurt yourself. But this time you did nothing, he was the one who hurt you.

“I didn’t choose her… you are the one wearing his clothes and being all into him nowadays. You never once wanted to learn about my instrument or music. You turned your back on me too, no matter how much you don’t see that.” He said, sadness evident in his voice.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Reggie quickly cut you off. “You may not see it Luke. But you hurt her. She did the one thing she could, turn to the other people in this band who love her. You turned you back on your best friend, for some girl you met a week ago. Have you lost your mind? She was the best thing in your world, and you shattered her.”

Tears quickly fell down your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around yourself. You just wanted to protect yourself from getting hurt again. You loved Luke, but was love worth this?

“Why would I try to shatter the one person I love… the only person I see a life with?” He blurted before quickly clamping his hand over his mouth. Your eyes couldn’t help but widen as his omission.

You looked around the room, trying to make sure this was reality. That the boy you so longed for, loved you just as much as you loved him.

“I-uh Y/N… that is not…” Luke began to stutter as he walked towards you. You watched as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, just waiting for you to respond in some way.

A smile broke out across your face as you made your way to him. The fear disappeared from his face as he lifted you in the air. He just held you tightly against him, almost terrified you would disappear if he let go of you.

“I love you too Luke…” you quietly whispered in his ear as he placed you back on your feet. A small blush crossed his features as he looked from your eyes to your lips.

You couldn’t help but smile as you pressed your lips to his, your hands intertwined in his hair as he gently gripped your waist.

You pulled away from the kiss with this content look upon your face, you opened your mouth to say something to Luke. But you were cut off quickly,

“So, can we get back to rehearsal?” Alex said, twirling his drumstick while the two of you looked like deer in headlights.

You nodded sheepishly as let go of Luke, making a quick round to Reg.

“It seems like you got your man.” He said, sending a quick wink at you causing laughter to echo from you.

“Hey! Quit winking at my girl” Luke said, before winking at you again. He could not be hotter than with that guitar pick between his teeth as he focused on the song ahead.

You both knew deep down; this was only the beginning of a new chapter in your story. Luke Patterson was the last man you ever wanted to love, and now that all seemed more than possible.

TAGLIST:

@imsydneywalker @dancethroughthethunder @ghostofreggie @thee-ava-mariee @notasofti @julies-molina @calamitykaty @kcd15 @crybabyddl @all-in-fangirl @gia-kerks @morganayennefertyrell @merceret @lovesanimals

[secretpajamas]

a different kind of rush;

an ezra x reader fic

pairing: ezra (prospect) x female reader

rating: explicit

genre: romance/smut/and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

words: 5.6k

part 2 of 2 (read part one HERE)

please scroll to the end to “content” if you would like to know specific smut-related content before reading!

--

When you emerged from the shower, you changed into your long sleep shirt (the thing was far too old and ratty at this point to be considered a “nightgown”). Even though it wasn’t dark out yet, you figured you might as well go to bed at the rate this day was going.

As you slowly crept through the tent partition, you noticed that Ezra was gone—and so was his gear.

You found a note in Ezra’s barely-legible scrawl placed at the foot of your bed.

“Starstone quality check,” you mumbled, reading the note aloud.

Starstone was so finicky that it was necessary to check up on it in storage to make sure it maintained its stability. But you knew in your gut he was avoiding you. While he was out, you cleaned the filters and checked the tanks like you always did—minus the filter and tank that Ezra was currently using—the methodical work helping soothe your nerves a little.

When Ezra came back in, you were sitting up in bed, reading the book Ezra’s kid Cee had hand-written (“She didn’t come up with the story, but she basically rewrote the whole damn thing herself. Smarter than she knows, that kid.”). It wasn’t your usual kind of story, and not even your usual medium of consumption (you preferred late-night radio dramas, but they broadcast from the Ephrate—the signal was spotty at best in the Fringes and nonexistent here in the Reach), but it was captivating nonetheless.

You didn’t look up from the book as Ezra walked in. Neither of you said a word.

Part of you was relieved that you didn’t talk about it.

The other part of you was desperate to talk about it.

--

The next morning, you woke to Ezra sitting at his makeshift desk—a chair set in front of an old wooden shipping crate—swirling together the starstone enzyme bath. He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a gray t-shirt, his hair already matted with perspiration from the heat.

You grumbled and slowly sat up.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Ezra said, not lifting his eyes from his work.

“Mmph,” was your sleepy response.

“Oats are ready if you have a hankering,” he continued, gesturing with his head towards the “kitchen”—another wooden shipping crate, this one with a battery-operated stove placed on top.

You were suddenly very awake at the promise of food. “Please tell me there’s coffee, too.”

“Haven’t made it yet,” he replied. “Go easy on the stuff, you’ve drunk near all my supply.”

“I believe food and board is included in my contract.” You yawned before shuffling your way over to the stove.

“Food and board, sweetheart, not drink.” Ezra held the canister of freshly mixed enzyme solution between his knees as he twisted on the cap with his hand.

Your stomach rumbled and you eagerly grabbed your bowl of oatmeal. After wolfing down your breakfast, you filled Ezra’s rickety kettle with water and set it on the stove, turning the power up to high. You pawed around the mismatched collection of canteens piled next to the stove until you found two clean ones and set them out, along with four packets of powdered coffee (three for you, one for Ezra). It was the instant stuff anyone could grab for cheap at a shuttle station, and it tasted wretched, but it did its job.

As you waited for the water to boil—not long when the water in storage was already warm thanks to this planet’s heat—You heard Ezra stand up and approach you. When you felt his hand brush the small of your back, you shivered.

Ezra huffed. “Are you cold? For cryin’ out loud, woman, it’s hotter’n two channel-rats fuckin’ in a wool sock.”

“Must be caffeine withdrawal,” you lied, knowing full well it was Ezra’s touch.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth and you nearly shivered again. “I suppose it’s high time I replenish our supplies,” he said, “lest you pillage the remainder of my coffee.”

When the kettle began to whistle, you switched off the stove and poured equal amounts of hot water into the cups—and unequal amounts of coffee packets. All the while, Ezra’s hand stayed on your back.

“Speaking of supplies, we could use another full O2 tank,” you said, trying your best to ignore how your stomach did somersaults every time Ezra absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against the material of your sleep shirt, “and coolant for the air circulators.”

“I’m well aware,” Ezra said, “but thank you kindly for the reminder.”

You offered Ezra his canteen of coffee. You mourned the loss of his hand on your back, but feeling the brush of his fingers against yours as you handed him his cup was nearly as electrifying.

“S’posin’ we pull a good haul of starstone today, I can ready the pod for the shuttle station tomorrow,” he said between sips. “Be back within a couple days’ time.”

You swallowed down a lump in your throat along with your coffee. You did need supplies, but it was hardly urgent—was he really that keen on avoiding you? But the way he just touched your back—he’d never been more intimate than friendly pats on the shoulder before—

“The shuttle station gets a clearer radio signal to the Ephrate,” Ezra continued, “I can have a good an’ proper talk with Cee.”

Oh. He wants to talk to his kid, you moron. Why did you make this about yourself and your ill-timed masturbatory ventures?

“I’ll hold down the fort, then,” you said between gulps of your coffee.

“I’m countin’ on it,” Ezra said. “Now let’s score some stone afore this bitch of a planet bakes us alive.”

–

Ezra was gone before you woke, but you had expected it. He told you as much last night. But you still couldn’t shake the notion that he was avoiding you. You sighed deeply before untangling yourself from the bedsheets and crawling over to make your morning coffee.

On the table, the kettle was already set out on the stovetop, along with three coffee packets, a clean canteen, and a note from Ezra.

“Radio at 21:00,” you mumbled. That was tonight—so he was planning to call you as soon as he got in. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your coffee.

You didn’t have to mine today or tomorrow, thanks to working double-time yesterday (and your aching muscles certainly reminded you of that), but there was still plenty to do around the tent. After gulping down your coffee, you started with the pile of laundry in the corner. It was the most urgent order of business, based on how it was beginning to climb up the wall—and how much it stunk. You filled a basin with water and soap and got to work.

While hanging the garments to dry, you noticed a pair of Ezra’s compression pants had a tear in the thigh—thankfully, it was on a side seam, so you could easily sew it shut. You noted to fix it as soon as it was finished drying. You wondered if you could mend anything else, noting Ezra’s ratty assortment of boxers and briefs. If he made any cash in the aurelac rush, he certainly didn’t spend any of it on underwear. You could mend holes, but you couldn’t work miracles.

As you waited for the clothes to dry, you snacked on a ration bar and read more of Cee’s book. You were invested in the characters now, despite your initial skepticism of the subject matter. You had to admit, it was a bit of a page-turner. After a while, you didn’t want to put it down. You moved from sitting at Ezra’s desk to leaning against one of the tent supports to laying on your bed mat, your eyes glued to the page.

When you finally came to a satisfying enough chapter to pause your reading, you looked around for a piece of scrap paper to mark your place. You picked up Ezra’s note and tucked it inside the pages before shutting the book. You noticed the laundry hanging up was dry—had you really been reading that long? Oh well. Time to get mending.

–

You had mended Ezra’s pants, a pair of his socks, and were about to sew a button back on the pocket of your suit when you heard your name crackle from the radio headset in the corner. Startled, you dropped your work, the button skittering across the floor.

“Gimme a minute!” You shouted, hoping your headset would pick it up from across the tent. You quickly found the runaway button and placed it on Ezra’s desk before scrambling to your side of the tent to put on your headset.

“Sorry about that,” you said, “I’m here. You get in okay?”

“All in one piece,” came Ezra’s voice in your ear, “give or take an arm.”

You rolled your eyes at Ezra’s wisecrack. “Talk to Cee yet?”

“Not yet,” Ezra said, “with the time difference between here and the Ephrate, she’s still in class. I shan’t interrupt her studies.”

You looked at the book where it lay on Ezra’s desk and smiled. “Well, when you call her, tell her I said hello.”

“Will do.”

“So, what station did you end up at?” You asked.

“Trinity,” Ezra replied.

“Trinity,” you said, “don’t think I’ve been on Trinity since the rush.”

“Ain’t any different,” Ezra said, “still got egregious docking fees and an abundance of unpleasant company.”

“Already shooed away a pick-pocket busker, haven’t you?”

“Several,” Ezra grumbled, “Damn this stump, they think I’m an easy target.”

“Were any of them good players, at least?” You asked.

“Truthfully, the boy on the panpipes was a talented little devil,” he said, “both in playing his instrument and his victims. I let him pilfer a coin from my pocket—I fancy myself a patron of the arts.”

You snorted. “You keep coin in your pocket? On Trinity?”

“Sweetheart, it’s the decoy cash,” Ezra explained. “You keep a couple low-credit coin in your pocket for the vandals so that they don’t go scroungin’ for the heavy-hittin’ gems in your suit lining.”

“Speaking of your suit lining,” you said, “I’ve been doing some mending.”

You heard Ezra’s raspy laugh through your headset. “Don’t suppose you’ve been sewin’ up my underthings.”

“Those are hopeless,” you remarked, “I meant your spare compression pants.”

“Ah!” Ezra said. “I do recall those had a rip in ’em. I was fixin’ to fix those.”

“Well, I figured I’d do it as long as I had the time,” you said. “Also darned a pair of your socks.”

“Are you anglin’ for a raise?” You could hear the smile in Ezra’s voice.

“Your listing did say ‘compensation negotiable,’” you replied.

“Hmm. That it did,” Ezra said. “Perhaps we shall negotiate upon my return.”

The radio line lay silent for a moment, and you felt a nervous pang in your stomach. Enough small talk. You needed to say something about what happened the other day—even if it was just to apologize.

“Ezra?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He replied.

“Is everything... Okay? With us?” You asked, trying to suppress the anxiety in your voice.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ezra replied, before quickly adding in lowered tone, “Did somethin’... rub you the wrong way?”

“Kevva help me,” you grumbled, feeling the wave embarrassment crawl up your spine. “I’m so sorry, Ezra. It won’t happen again.”

“Stop apologizin’. There ain’t a thing wrong indulgin’ in a little well-earned self-pleasure.”

The way he said pleasure made your breath hitch. You hoped like hell it didn’t pick up on the radio.

“If there’s one thing I’ve come to realize in my years,” he said, “is that there’s no use feelin’ shame in feelin’ good.”

His voice was smooth and deliberate now. That bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you. “So don’t you stop yourself because of me—truthfully, I don’t mind. Not one bit.”

Hesitantly, you reached down to press the heel of your hand against your clit, choking back a moan threatening to escape your throat—but not entirely succeeding.

You heard Ezra’s breath coming loud and heavy through the radio. “Are you touchin’ yourself right now, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you gasped out, your previous inhibitions completely shattered.

“Fuck,” Ezra replied. “Thank Kevva this radio headset is hands-free.”

You heard what might have been Ezra undoing his zipper—and your suspicions were confirmed when you heard a low moan through the radio.

“Ezra—”

“Do you have the faintest idea what you do to me, woman?” The line swelled with static and the throaty rasp of Ezra’s voice. “Told myself not to—made myself not think of you like that. It ain’t proper. But when you—you let me watch—”

You whined and slid your hand beneath your underwear. “I was thinking of you,” you confessed, “always thinking of you—”

“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Ezra said, “all I’ve got is spit-slick and a weak hand wishin’ like hell it was you.”

You sped up the pace of your fingers as he continued.

“If you were here,” he said, “I’d bury myself inside you so deep—ah, fuck—’til you were the only thing I could feel.”

At his words, you slid two fingers inside yourself up to the knuckle, arching your hips, trying to get them as deep as they could go, thumb tirelessly working at your clit.

“I want that,” you panted, “I want you.”

“—Make you come on my cock again and again ’til you’re dizzy with it,” he said, “fuck you so hard you feel it the next day.”

Ezra’s words were pushing you close to the edge. “Ezra, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he groaned, “let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You came to the overwhelming sound of Ezra’s broken moans and your own desperate cries and the static of the radio and the beating of your heart—

a discordant symphony of absolute ecstasy.

–

Ezra returned the following night with a full pod of supplies. You worked together like a well-oiled machine, moving various goods from the pod to the tent in an orderly fashion. You both made small talk—Cee was doing well at the Academy, the shuttle station shop was stocked enough with what they needed, no, they didn’t have real coffee, just the shit stuff in packets.

Despite the friendly conversation, the air was thick with unspoken words.

It was hot out—as it always was on this planet—so you breathed a huge sigh of relief when you had both moved all the supplies to the tent and you could leave the sweaty pod. You both discarded your helmets and stood in front of the air circulator on Ezra’s side of the tent, sifting through the supplies and placing them where they belonged throughout the tent.

When you reached at the same time as Ezra for a can of coolant, your hands collided, sending a shockwave up your arm and stopping your breath.

You both froze, staring at your hands where they met.

Slowly, carefully, Ezra intertwined your fingers with his.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he whispered, those beautiful brown eyes of his gazing at you tenderly.

You couldn’t take it anymore—you climbed over the pile of supplies between you and pressed your lips to his.

He let out a surprised little noise against your mouth before returning the kiss with fervor, wrapping his arm tightly around you and pressing you close to his chest.

“Couldn’t—stop—thinkin’ of you,” he said between kisses.

“Do you want to—can we—” You gasped against his mouth.

“Yes,” he breathed, scrambling to work at the zips and fasteners on his suit. He didn’t object when you reached out to help remove the suit—and honestly, you weren’t thinking of it as helping him, more like getting all your clothes off as fast as possible because holy shit this was happening. Ezra had already removed his boots when he took his helmet off earlier, and you were only dressed in your undershirt and shorts, so this blasted contraption of a suit was the main obstacle.

You both managed to get the damn thing off and Ezra kicked it aside. He reached back, grabbing his sweaty t-shirt behind the collar to tug it over his head. You grasped the hem of your top and pulled it up and off, throwing it to the growing pile of discarded clothing.

You were about to strip off your shorts when Ezra reached for you again, kissing your mouth, your jaw, your neck, down to the tops of your breasts along the edge of your bra. You scrambled to unclasp it, letting it fall to the floor. Ezra wasted no time, cupping a breast in his hand and lavishing kisses on the other. When you felt the wet heat of his tongue against your nipple, you cried out, grabbing his hair and giving it a tug. He moaned against your breast before pulling away to look at you.

“Let’s take this to a bed,” you urged.

Ezra nodded vigorously in agreement and you both stumbled over to his bed mat, falling atop the sheets in a tangle of limbs.

Ezra sat up and you situated yourself on his lap, wrapping your legs around him. You could kiss him like this for hours, his tongue in your mouth, your fingers in his hair, his hand steady and warm on your back.

When you both took a moment to catch your breath, Ezra cleared his throat and looked you in the eye, his expression almost timid.

“I must confess, I have not had the chance to... partake, since I lost my arm,” he said. “I may not be as formidable a sparrin’ partner as I once was.”

“Ezra, I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. He stopped you with a press of a finger to your lips.

“Allow me to enlighten you.” He shrugged with his stump. “Nothin’s as it once was. I can’t even take a piss the same way. Ever try to hold a dick with a hand that ain’t there?”

“Can’t say I have,” you said.

“Oh, hush, birdie, you can understand the sentiment,” Ezra grumbled. “Everything is at the behest of my damned weak hand. I can’t read my own handwriting anymore. Can’t shoot like I used to—my grip’s shit on the left. Even gettin’ dressed is harder than minin’ aurelac.”

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before continuing. “And as long as we’re on the subject of minin’, I can no longer mine most things on my lonesome. Each harvest is hardly half of my previous yields, and I got the kid to support on top of everything. Now, Cee deserves every bit of that support, do not misunderstand my words—I would move Kevva and earth for that girl. But such meager wages do tend to make one feel... inadequate. A man’s work is no petty thing.”

You listened to Ezra attentively, not knowing how you could get it across to him that he was no less of a man in your eyes than if he had two arms. You wanted to reassure him, but he pressed on.

“So please, allow me to posit this caveat,”  he said, “that I intend to make love to you, and to do so to the fullest of my capabilities—but even my best efforts may prove... unsatisfactory.”

Make love. Ezra wanted to make love to you. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

You were so stunned by Ezra’s choice of vocabulary that it took you a moment to process what he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t think you can make me come.”

Ezra ducked his head; you could have sworn he was blushing. “You always cut right to the quick.”

You cupped his cheek, running your thumb along the little white scar there.

“Ezra, I don’t care. I just want this. With you.” You glanced down to where you straddled his lap, rolling your hips a little against his growing arousal. “And forgive me if I’m assuming things, but it seems like you want it, too.”

Ezra moaned quietly at your movements. “My desire was never in question, I assure you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile.

You leaned in and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss before gently moving you off his lap.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you eagerly obliged, reclining on the mattress. He settled on top of you, propping himself up on his elbow, kissing you passionately. Eager to get your hands on him, you hooked a finger under his waistband and gave a tug.

“Whoa there,” Ezra said, “slow down, spitfire.”

You moved your hand away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, believe me. But those clever hands of yours will have to wait, because I’ve been starvin’ for you,” he said with a sly grin, kissing a path down your breasts to your stomach, “and I can no longer deny myself a taste.”

It took a moment for your Ezra Translator to kick in. “Oh.” You scrambled to shimmy your shorts and underwear down. Ezra took over, pulling them all the way off and tossing them over his shoulder before leaning down to continue his trail of kisses.

He nudged at your thigh with his head and you eagerly opened your legs for him. Rough stubble tickled your thighs as he kissed his way to your cunt. At the first feeling of his hot breath against your clit, your hips jumped up out of their own volition, knocking Ezra off his left elbow and face-planting him onto the bed beneath you.

“Sorry!” You squeaked. You reached out to steady him but stopped yourself—you knew he hated being helped.

“Hell’s bells,” Ezra grunted. He gripped at the sheets with his hand as he slowly pushed himself to sit upright.

“Left arm ain’t worth shit,” he grumbled under his breath, “can’t even hold me up.”

“It’s alright, Ezra,” you said, “we can try again.”

“Indeed we can,” Ezra said. He lay down on his back next to you and motioned to his chin. “Take a seat, sweetheart.”

“Um,” you started. You’d done this before, but not like that. “I don’t want to—hurt you.”

“Kevva’s sake, woman, I ain’t gonna break,” Ezra said, then added with a grin, “if I suffocate on account of your cunt, I will embrace death with open arms. Well, one of ’em, anyway.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said with a groan.

“Here lies Ezra, drowned in pussy,” he continued teasing, eyeing you with a wicked grin.

You hesitantly shuffled toward him. Drumming up some courage, you knelt above him, one knee on either side of his head. You were so nervous that you could hear your pulse roaring in your ears.

Whether impatient or just eager, Ezra grabbed you by the hip, then, and urged you down onto his mouth.

You gasped, bracing yourself as you felt the white-hot warmth of his tongue against your cunt. You choked back a moan, your hips stuttering forward, trying not to grind down too hard on his face. Ezra was having none of that. He urged you to move, his hand gripping your hip and firmly pulling you forward. With a little more certainty, you rocked your hips forward and back, making his tongue slide against your clit in long strokes. You moaned again, louder this time, and Ezra hummed his desperate response, burying his face in your pussy like a man starving.

You rutted against him urgently, your thighs beginning to burn from holding yourself up over him. Your movements became less graceful, more desperate—you slid forward too far, causing your slit to grind against the bridge of his nose, and you’d be embarrassed if didn’t feel so damn good. You were right on the precipice, moments away from shaking apart, when Ezra stilled your hips with his hand and brought you back to his tongue. He latched his mouth over your clit and sucked on it, wet and sloppy and fucking perfect.

“Fuck, Ezra,” you gasped, the heat coiling inside you tighter and tighter, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”

Ezra growled, his teeth grazing your clit for a moment, and the jolt of sensation just on the right edge of pain had you coming so hard you thought you might black out. You stumbled forward, reaching out to break your fall, your cunt pulling away from his mouth. Somehow, Ezra knew you needed more, reaching behind his head for you and guiding you back in place with his hand. He began to lap at you again, working you through another shaking shockwave of pleasure.

You had to pull away before it was too much. You collapsed next to Ezra on the too-small mattress, trying to catch your breath, feeling your thighs burn and your cunt twitch and your heart sing.

“Give me a minute,” you gasped.

“Take all the time you need, sweetheart,” Ezra said, equally breathless.

You turned to look at Ezra. His face was flushed red, beads of sweat dripping down to mix with your slick that had ended up all over his mouth and chin—and his nose. He looked absolutely filthy and you’d be mortified if he didn’t look so damn pleased with himself.

You reached for your discarded t-shirt and gently wiped at his face, cleaning up the most offensive wet patches before tossing it aside again. “Sorry,” you said.

Ezra chuckled. “I do not accept your apology, ma’am,” he teased. “That was sexier than hittin’ a motherlode of aurelac.”

“Now that’s high praise,” you teased back.

“C’mere and kiss me,” he all but whispered, reaching out to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger. You closed the distance and pressed your lips against his. It was almost chaste—if not for the knowledge of where that mouth had just been.

He pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed deeply, absentmindedly playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

You looked down at the straining bulge in his pants, snaking your hand down to stroke at him through the fabric. A little choked moan tumbled from his throat at your touch.

“Let’s take this off,” you said, thumbing the waistband. He nodded in agreement, laying on his back and lifting his hips so you could pull his pants down and off in short order. His cock sprang free, hard and aching.

You licked your lips. “No underwear?”

“Too fuckin’ hot for underwear,” he said, gasping when you gently rested your hand on the crease where his thigh met his hip.

You moved your hand up and down his thigh, making him squirm and thrust up against nothing but air. He practically whined, his hand clawing at the sheets.

“Touch me,” he begged, voice cracking.

“I am touching you,” you said with a wolfish grin.

“Damn it, woman,” he groaned, “if the heat don’t kill me, you sure as shit will have the pleasure yourself.”

“Patience,” you chided, not sure how long you could keep this up—you wanted him inside you, and you wanted him now—but you loved seeing him spread out and desperate for you.

Finally, you wrapped your hand around him and gave a long, firm stroke. He threw his head back and moaned, arching into your touch. You licked your lips as you studied his cock, the thick length of it twitching ever so slightly in your hand. You rubbed at the underside of the head with your thumb and your mouth watered when a bead of precome welled up at the tip. On instinct, you moved down to lick it off.

Ezra cursed, bucking up to meet your mouth. You held him down by the hip before taking him into your mouth as far as you could.

“Fuck, sweetheart—I—fuck!” Ezra cried out, clawing at the sheets with his hand, writhing against your hand where it held him down. When you tentatively reached down to gently squeeze his balls, he nearly sobbed.

“I’m gonna—” Ezra gasped.

You pulled your mouth off of him, then, replacing it with your hand, not moving, just holding him at the base.

“Hold on, I didn’t say stop,” he said with a breathless chuckle. “Everything alright?”

“I want you inside me,” you whispered, barely audible.

Ezra reached out to still your movements. “I don’t have protection, sweetheart,” he said, voice strained.

You bit your bottom lip, averting Ezra’s gaze for a moment. “I have the implant,” you said, looking him in the eye again.

Ezra’s eyebrow shot up. “Well, shit, woman,” he said. “Thought they only had those fancy contraptions in the Ephrate.”

“They do,” you said. “I did have some decent money, once. In the rush. Before my crew took it all and left.”

“You and I have trod similar paths, so it would seem,” Ezra said.

“The rush left a lot of us in the dust,” you said.

Ezra nodded. “The deadliest dust there is.”

After a long moment, he sat up to kiss you, just a gentle press of lips. You put your arms around him and closed your eyes, breathing with him for a moment.

“How do you want to—which way should we—” you stumbled over your words.

“You may have me whichever way you desire,” Ezra said, voice low in your ear, “and I will do my darnedest to provide.”

“Can—can you be on top?” You started, “I mean—I will if it’s easier, but my thighs are kind of killing me.”

Ezra chuckled, and you thrilled at the vibration of it against your chest. “Lay back,” he said.

You complied, laying down on the bed mat. He reached behind you to grab the pillow.

“Lift up that pretty ass of yours for me,” he said, and you did. Kneeling before you, he placed the pillow under your hips.

“Reckon my knees will hold me up longer than my arm,” he said, gripping your hip to tug you towards him.

“Guess both our thighs will be burning tonight,” you said with a sly smile.

“Worth every ache,” he replied, taking himself in hand.

He slowly rubbed at your slit with the head of his cock. You moaned, your cunt clenching against thin air as you felt wetness dribble down. Ezra dragged his cockhead through the slick, gathering it before rubbing at your clit directly. You gasped at the jolt of pleasure lighting up your body—it felt so good you could cry. You could hardly stand the teasing anymore, wanting him inside you now more than ever.

“Ezra, please,” you begged.

At your urging, he lined himself up and slid inside you with one deliberate movement. The sensation of his thick cock filling you up, the almost-aching stretch of it—it was better than you ever imagined. He grabbed you by the hip again to pull you even closer as he began to thrust into you at a steady pace.

“Look at you,” Ezra said, his voice gravelly and low, “takin’ my cock like it was made for you. Shoulda known you’d feel this good, sweetheart.”

“Ezra,” you panted, “Ezra.”

You looked up at Ezra as he filled you completely—from his pupils blown wide and his lips slightly parted, to the broad expanse of his shoulders, to the torso adorned with freckles and scars, to—fuck, where his cock was seated deep in your cunt—he was more beautiful than any gemstone.

You could tell Ezra was trying to control the pace of his thrusts, biting his lip in concentration. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Harder,” you breathed.

“I ain’t gonna last,” Ezra said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t care!” You cried out, clenching down on him.

“Fuck!” Ezra leaned forward and braced himself against the bed, arm trembling with the effort as he set a brutal pace, fucking into you hard and deep and unrelenting. You nearly screamed.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Ezra’s voice was frantic and loud, “come for me, please, please, fuck!”

You rubbed your clit for hardly a moment before you shook apart, your cunt spasming around his cock, your body consumed in flames of pleasure so intense you could hardly breathe.

Ezra managed a few more thrusts before he came with a shout, his cock inside you as deep as it could go.

–

In the aftermath, Ezra collapsed beside you, absolutely exhausted. You turned your head to kiss him, lazy and slow.

“If it’s alright with you,” he said, his breath warm and close, “I’m inclined to take the day off tomorrow.”

“We’re sure going to be sore,” you sighed.

“Well, yes,” he agreed, “but I’m keen on more...sparrin’ practice.”

“You can say sex, you know,” you laughed, “not everything has to be a metaphor.”

Ezra smiled. “I do have an inclination to run my mouth, don’t I.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Ezra just rolled his eyes before taking your hand in his, your fingers twining together.

“I just realized,” you said, looking over at Ezra’s desk, “I could’ve sat on that chair instead of your face. Would’ve made things easier.”

Ezra’s eyes widened a fraction, looking over at the chair, then back to you.

“Why didn’t I think of that? I am dumber than a box of rocks,” he said with a chuckle. “But I do believe my method is superior.”

“We’ll have to test your theory,” you said. “Do some serious research.”

Ezra nodded eagerly before setting a steely expression with a furrowed brow. “Of course.”

--

content: phone sex (well, radio sex if you wanna get technical), cunnilingus, face-sitting, blowjob, vaginal sex

a/n: listen. all the scifi sex I write will conveniently make use of “the implant” purely so they can raw-dog it. also like where tf is ezra gonna go buy space condoms. this is set in the fringes of the galaxy. it’s not like he can pop over to space cvs and get some cosmic cock wrappers for his magnum dong. they don’t carry them at the shuttle station, okay?

and yes I DO go back and forth in my fics deciding whether “come” or “cum” is hotter/more grammatically correct/etc and this is a come fic, apologies to the cum crowd

special thanks to taylor (@damerondjarin​) for the exchange of messages that inspired this fic, and for all the moral support thereafter. believe it or not this entire fic was supposed to be JUST the face-sitting sex scene and uh it expanded from there. Oops.

[inkofamethyst]

January 20, 2022

Update: math actually sucks and I’m glad to be done with it.  I can say “oh I love problem solving and applying things I’ve learned to new situations” till I’m blue in the face but my true feelings are hiding just beneath the surface and make themselves known as soon as I encounter a problem that is ever so mildly more difficult than anything I’ve done before.  [my sister needed help with test corrections and they were hard (I mean I eventually figured it out but only after giving up lol)]

Okay but,,, Lin Manuel Miranda, am I right?

Listen.  That guy has such a talent for writing musical lines that go on top of one another and build with each other and are separate but flow into and out of one another’s orbits and it’s just kind of incredible.  You can switch between listening to each line individually like changing television stations or you can have them all going at once like you’re listening to four different youtube videos simultaneously but they all line up at certain parts.  Like, I remember doing that one song before the Big Fight in West Side Story and thinking that was cool.  Two summers later I heard Non-Stop for the first time and haven’t been the same since.  We Don’t Talk About Bruno?  Incredible.  I’m sure In the Heights had an example of this too but I can’t recall specifics.

What’s interesting is that concert band/orchestral(/chamber choir too, apparently) music does this type of thing all the time, but the tricky part is the addition of words.  In band, different instruments have different voices, sure, but adding words can make things muddy (I have personal experience with this through singing warmup rounds at choir practices last sem ugh).  Miranda’s music is clean.

Anyway I’m gearing up for next semester (yknow, setting up Notion, clearing out Notability, etc), and I have a look at my schedule and come to find out that I’m taking the less favored prof for both biochem 2 and physics 2 which is lovely (I can tell based on who has the most seats left open lol).  Frankly, I chose to stick with the same phys prof because even though he can’t teach I a) don’t want any classes before 11a this sem, b) want as many of my classes as possible to be back to back instead of having a gaping 2-hour hole between them, and c) got an A in his class last sem despite being frustrated and fed up the whole time so it probably will be annoying but at least it’ll be annoying in a way that I expect.  The only reason I’m taking that biochem 2 prof is because the other one conflicts with my anth class.

Speaking of anth,,,,, I’ve been stressing over the past few weeks bc I couldn’t figure out exactly when the right time would be to send the anth prof an email checkup of like “heyyy I know I’m supposed to TA for you,, are we still cool for that?” because I didn’t wanna be too forward but then it got to the point where I’d waited too long to follow up in my opinion and I was also stressing bc I’ve got the whole imposter syndrome thing climbing up my throat again like bile (you know how it is) and it’s been absolutely paralyzing and the first day of his class is this Tuesday and then today he just goes and sends a casual little email today and is all like “excited to have u as a uta :) also meet ur co-uta she’s been working with me for a bit :)” and honestly that made me feel a little bit calmer.  That’s what I’m thankful for today.  That my fears were unfounded (and that, so far, everything seems to be turning out alright), as they so often are.

Last thing: It’s a crazy thing to be involved on campus.  Over the past few days I’ve received emails from almost all of my major orgs about kickoff meetings and jazz and it’s kinda wild.  That said, seeing the email from the orchestra reminded me that there was one primary goal which I did not complete at all: practicing the concert music.  Not once.  I completed the waistcoat and walking skirt (which I took out for their first spin today actually and it was fabulous (if I get some American Duchesses the skirt length will be perfect)), started on another top instead of the mauve one bc I need to figure out sleeve length stuff (might be able to finish it before I go back), finished my mom’s dress, started Ni No Kuni and Shadow of the Colossus pieces, and started working on my summer plans.  So while I didn’t complete everything, I did do quite a bit, and I’m proud of what I was able to accomplish.

[hearts-hunger]

aay’han mar’eyce (bittersweet discovery): chapter one || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Series Summary: In search of the Jedi you’ve been tasked to find, you and Din wrestle with the bittersweet discovery of your little one’s past and destined future. || Part Three of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: When you land on Corvus, you and Din both realize you’re more nervous about finding Ahsoka Tano than you thought.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst | Word Count: 3k 

Warnings: Mentions of reader’s pregnancy

A/N: When will God stop my sinful hand? Never, and I’ll keep writing for Mr. and Mrs. Djarin as long as it gives me serotonin like this. This series is a pretty distinct tonal shift from Dralshy’a Ka’ra, which was all sunshine, but I really wanted to do another episode rewrite and I thought chapter 13 had such great potential for family bonding and hurt/comfort. I hope you like it! ♡

“Corvus. This is the place.”

Your husband’s voice broke the silence that had filled the cockpit, and you looked up to see a cloudy green planet steadily growing bigger beyond the glass. Bright glimpses of magma core peeked through the dense atmosphere. The display on the Crest’s instrument panel gave a friendly chirp and outlined the planet’s main hubs, one of which was the city of Calodan. Your stomach gave an unpleasant jolt at the name and you tried to still the slight trembling of your hands, looking for something to distract you from your impending arrival on the planet.

You held an unfinished project in your hands, a soft little baby romper made of navy blue cotton. Din had gotten you the fabric while you were staying on Naboo - though he’d gotten it for you to make something for yourself, he hadn’t minded when you told him you were going to use a little of it to make something for your babies. You’d already stitched up a handsome little shirt for your son, and now you were working on something for your new baby.

Resting your hand over your stomach, you gave a small sigh and thought over the last month. Omera had wanted you to try and steer clear of danger as much as possible, for your sake and the baby’s, but danger followed your little family with an uncanny determination. The Mandalorians you’d found on Trask had turned out to be an entirely different kind than the one you’d known, taking their helmets off as if their creed meant nothing, roping your husband into a dangerous, fruitless mission in exchange for their help. But they’d also helped save your little one, and you’d be forever indebted to them for it.

You shuddered. You couldn’t think about that day for long before you grew panicky, nervous to let your son out of your sight lest he be swallowed up like that again. You and Din had both had nightmares about it, about what could have happened to Din or your baby on that ship. You could have lost a child and been widowed in the blink of an eye had it not been for Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorians, and the thought made you sick with fear and worry even now.

Then you’d gone to Nevarro, and Din had gone off on another mission to destroy an Imperial base. You and your husband had argued about it, but he eventually brought you around - Cara and Greef were your friends, and they’d always helped you when you needed it. It was time to return the favor, even if it meant you’d be fretting in the back of a schoolroom the entire time they were gone. 

Your husband’s return hadn’t been the triumphant victory you’d expected - Din had rushed in, wasting no breath on explanations, and taken you and the baby back to the ship for a hasty departure. It was just your luck that your escape from Nevarro had devolved into a dogfight with Imperial TIE-fighters, and your poor husband had endured no small amount of ranting from you when things settled back down. You were angry and worried, petrified by the thought of the experiments the Imperial warlords wanted to perform on your little one.

And now, you were approaching the planet that sheltered the Jedi you’d been tasked to find. The Jedi you were then supposed to hand your baby over to, because she was one of “his kind”. You felt a now-familiar wash of unease come over you, and worried your bottom lip to try and keep it in check.

“I’ve detected a beacon,” Din said, looking over at the display. Your baby sat up on the dash next to him, watching his movements with interest.

Din worked around him, pressing buttons and flipping switches in preparation for landing. “I’m gonna start the landing cycle,” he said. He glanced down at your son. “You better get back in your seat.”

The baby didn’t move from the dash, giving a soft coo of protest. You noticed the silver handle was back on the gear shift and smiled a little, knowing that was what held your little one’s attention enough for him to disregard his dad’s instruction. 

Din took his focus from the landing cycle long enough to realize his son hadn’t done as he was told.

“Hey, what did I tell you?” he said, in a mildly scolding tone. “Back in your seat.”

Your baby’s ears drooped. Setting aside your sewing project, you rose and gathered him into your arms.

“Oh, you poor thing,” you crooned, cuddling him close. “Your daddy’s so grumpy, isn’t he?”

He gave a babble of agreement, and Din huffed a laugh.

“I’ll be more grumpy if he tumbles off the dash while we’re landing.”

“That’s not true,” you told your baby. “Daddy would hold you and kiss it better. He couldn’t be grumpy with you if he tried.” As stoic as your husband seemed on the outside, he was as gentle as could be underneath all that armor. 

He flipped another switch and looked over his shoulder at you.

“You alright, cyare?” he asked gently. “You’ve been pretty quiet today.”

Usually you could be counted on to keep up a steady stream of conversation if you decided to stay with Din in the cockpit rather than roam around the ship. For this trip, though, you’d been uncharacteristically quiet. You knew Din shared your fears about finally meeting this Jedi, but you were completely tangled up in knots about it and hadn’t wanted to burden him.

You shook your head and held your baby closer. “I’m fine. Just... tired, I guess.”

You were a little run down, especially since morning sickness had started to give you some trouble, but you’d had much worse and would muscle through it. Besides, you couldn’t really afford to slow down, and both you and Din knew it.

“I would have thought you’d be relieved to have a little peace and quiet,” you teased lightly. He’d told you when you first started courting that the Crest had never heard so much talking until you came aboard.

He chuckled. “I like listening to you talk, cyare.” He eased the Crest into the atmosphere, a task that was second nature after so many years with the same ship. He glanced over at the little romper you’d laid on the dash.

“You finished it?” he asked.

You picked it up; your baby grabbed it in his clawed hand.

“Gentle,” you reminded him. “This is for ik’aad, remember?” Din had used the Mandalorian word for “baby” to tell your son your happy news, and it had stuck. Even now, your little one’s ears perked up at the nickname.

You smiled when he brushed his fingers over the fabric with a gentler touch and gave a soft coo.

“I haven’t finished it yet,” you said to Din. “I want to do some embroidery on it, if I can find the right thread - I was thinking little snowflakes along the collar.”

Your baby would be born during the winter on Sorgan, and even though you knew it was early yet, you’d taken great comfort and joy in working on this outfit. 

Din held out his hand. “May I see?”

You handed it to him, and it seemed delicate and very small in his big hands. He ran a finger over the collar.

“You’ve done a beautiful job so far, cyar’ika,” he said, and you felt your cheeks pink a little at the tenderness of his compliment.

“Thank you,” you said. You put your son down in your seat and took the romper from your husband’s hand.

“Stay put, and be good for dad,” you told your little one. “I’ll be right back.”

You gathered up your sewing odds and ends and took them down to the second level of the Crest, tucking them safely away in the small chest you kept your mending in. A shirt of Din’s that had torn at the shoulder seam was half-folded at the bottom, and you took a moment to neaten it and steady yourself before you went back up to the cockpit.

Ahsoka Tano was her name. It was the only thing you knew about her, besides the fact that she was a Jedi. You didn’t know what she looked like, or who she worked for, or how she would train your little one. She might be cruel and mean-tempered, for all you knew - how could you just hand your foundling over to her?

You and Din hadn’t really talked about it. Up until now, finding a Jedi had always seemed like something that might take years to accomplish. They were apparently very few and far between, and though you now knew it had been foolish to do so, you had never really given any great consideration to actually finding one, at least not so quickly. You and Din had loved your little one and cared for him as your own, even before the Armorer declared you a clan of three and heard your vows to adopt him. To hand him over to someone you knew nothing about - someone from an enemy race to the Mandalorians, no less - was unthinkable.

But you’d also vowed something else to the armorer that day. Together, you and Din had promised to find others of your foundling’s kind and return him to them. It was not a vow you took lightly, and you knew Din would no sooner break his promise than he would give up the Way. 

You straightened your shoulders and stood. No matter what happened on this planet, Din would need you. His struggle between the love he had for his foundling and the loyalty he had to the Way would not be an easy thing to overcome, and you wouldn’t leave him to face it alone.

You made your way back up to the cockpit, and you heard your little one babbling away before you came through the doors. Din was nodding and responded with interest despite the baby’s chatter not really meaning anything, and you felt your chest tighten. This was going to be harder than you thought.

- 

Din landed the Crest in a clearing among the forest of charred, skeletal trees surrounded by a sickly fog. You wondered if the air was even breathable. A quick check to the Crest’s display showed that it was, but the greenish tinge of the smog only added to your unease as the ship settled to the ground.

“I thought Bo-Katan said this was a forest planet,” you said.

Din started the shutdown cycle. “She did. Something must have happened to destroy the forests, and I’m guessing it wasn’t an accident. It probably has something to do with that city we passed over.”

You looked up at his helm as he stood. “The city we’re headed to?”

“Right again,” he said wryly. He looked over your shoulder to the dead trees outside. “Do you want to stay here while I go check out the city?”

As if on cue, a low groaning sound came from outside - only a very big creature could have made such a noise, and it didn’t sound like anything you’d like to meet on your own.

You crossed your arms over your chest and pressed closer to him. “No, I want to go with you.” You didn’t want to be on this planet anyway, and being separated from Din would only make it worse.

He ran a hand over your back to soothe you. “Okay,” he agreed. “Are you ready to leave?”

You nodded, but you didn’t pull away from him yet. His chestplate felt cool against your skin, and you allowed yourself a moment of comfort in his arms.

He cradled your face in his hands and leaned his helmet against your head. 

“It’s gonna be alright, cyar’ika,” he said gently. “We’ll just take it one step at a time, ok? We might not even find her here.”

You pulled back then, just enough to look up at his visor. You didn’t need to see his face to read the tension and unease he held in his whole body; he was just as hesitant to go looking for Ahsoka Tano as you were.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “One step at a time,” you agreed.

He nodded and relaxed a little. He gave you a final gentle tap of his helm against your head, a reassuring, comforting kiss, then beckoned to your little one.

“Come on, ad’ika,” he said, taking him from the seat. “Let’s go see what we can find.”

You followed Din to the second level, and he set your baby down after he’d come down the ladder to let him stretch his little legs. Your little one toddled after Din as the ramp lowered and revealed the bleak landscape you’d seen through the glass. The dead forest stretched in every direction, broken only by the great hulking shapes of slow-moving creatures in the distance.

Seeing his father had stopped at the foot of the ramp, your baby stopped too - top heavy and struggling to balance on the ramp, he sat midway down the slope with a little coo. You noticed he had the handle to the gear shift in his hand and was contentedly watching the way it shone in the weak sunlight.

“Did daddy give you that?” you asked, hunkering down next to him. He held it up to you and gave a soft babble.

Din turned. “Did I give him what?” He saw the ball in your baby’s hand and closed the distance between you in a few steps.

“What did I say about that?” Din scolded, extending his hand. The baby whined but reluctantly handed over his prize.

“This needs to stay in the ship,” Din chided. He tucked the ball into a pocket on his belt and straightened, looking out over the terrain again. You gave your son a consoling kiss on his soft ear; he chirped happily at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Not much to see out here,” Din said. He looked back at the two of you. “I’ve never had dealings with the Jedi before.”

Neither of you had, and his guess was as good as yours as to whether Jedi usually made their homes on planets as seemingly inhospitable as this. You knew nothing of their customs, their way of life - perhaps they didn’t even train ones as little as your baby, or were still hostile to Mandalorians. The only way to know would be to find the one you were looking for.

Din leaned down to scoop your baby up, cradling him in the crook of his arm, and offered his hand to you to help you stand. He gave your hand a quick squeeze before letting go.

“Let’s head into town,” he said. “See if we can pick up a lead.”

You stayed by his side as he walked to the edge of the clearing, and the Crest whirred as it drew the ramp back up and settled in to wait. You’d landed far enough away from the city to leave your ship better guarded against thieves, but it wouldn’t be a long walk to reach the city.

The forest closed in the further you went from your ship - even though they were rotted, the trees were numerous and large. They loomed in the fog, invisible until you were right on top of them, and it set your teeth on edge. When he was carrying the baby, Din preferred to have his other hand free to grab his blaster if the need should arise; to oblige him but still attempt to soothe your jangled nerves, you held a handful of his cloak and kept close to him that way.

All three of your kept quiet as you walked. You were in no mood for cheery conversation, and Din was well accustomed to silence on a bounty hunt. Even though Ahsoka Tano wasn’t a bounty, you knew your husband would employ those same skills to find her in the city; Din was an excellent hunter, and would most likely find her quickly. You didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Just before you reached the city, Din stopped and asked you to take the baby.

“Keep him close, cyare,” he said as your little one snuggled against your chest. “I don’t want either of you wandering.”

He knew he didn’t have to remind you, but you also knew it helped soothe his nerves. You put your hand on his arm, hoping to reassure him.

“We’ll stay close,” you told him. Though you were occasionally tempted to break his “stay by my side” rule on more colorful, inviting planets - you’d gotten a thorough reaming out from your husband one time after you’d wandered off and gotten lost in a bazaar on a Mid-Rim planet and made him sick with worry - you wanted to stick close on this planet.

“Should we do the nursemaid, this time?” you asked. A Mandalorian accompanied by a young woman and a baby would always call attention, and you often playacted to keep your identity as his wife a secret. You and your little one made him vulnerable, and were therefore a higher prize to be won or better bargaining chip to own.

Din’s posture stiffened.

“No,” he said firmly. “If anyone asks, we’ll tell them the truth. You’re my wife, and anyone who wants to get at you or our baby will have to go through me first.”

You felt a strange mix of apprehension and pride, hesitance and desire. His protective nature had always been something you loved about him, but he wasn’t usually this keyed up before a hunt. You reminded yourself this wasn’t a regular hunt you were on; neither of you had any idea what you’d find in the city, and you knew he’d been feeling the same nervousness you had as you came closer to finding what you sought.

“Okay,” you agreed. “We’ll tell them the truth.”

He seemed to relax a little - he must have known you’d picked up on his tone, and was thankful you’d taken it in stride. He brushed his hand over the baby’s head, then touched his fingers to your cheek.

“Thank you,” he said. “I love you.”

You took a steadying breath and held your baby closer. “I love you too.”

Read chapter two!

pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekchic​​, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​​, @stardust-galaxies​​, @theorganasolo​​, @qhbr2013​​ ♡

series taglist: @kyjoraven​​, @sarahjkl82-blog​​, @remmysbounty​​, @bitchin-beskar​​, @cosmicbreathe​​, @prettyboyskywalker​​, @happyxdayxbitch​​​ ♡

let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡

[notspazztrapavacado]

'Flu-shot Fiasco'

Dr. Clef x they/them! scp! reader

(This AU belongs to supercasey, I'm hoping I'm understanding it right)

It had been nearly twenty-two years they'd been stuck in this place, saved from the streets as a young teen the first time they had died. Nothing was really special about them save for the fact they regenerated at a supernatural rate and was not stopped from it by death, but it was worth noting that every time they'd been put with a family, the general lack of self preservation made them too weak stomache to keep them and gave them back. 

It's not all bad, though, this place was kind to them. It was like an animal rescue center and a hospital and an orphanage had some kind of weird hybrid child center. Simply put: It was home. 

Right now, however, they were clinging to the ceiling fan in their basic human enclosure for dear life, dread pooling in the pit of their stomach as the small team of researchers beneath them looked on.

"(Y/N) it's time for your flu shot." Kondraki was not having this at all, not today. 

"No! Do what you with me, put me through a meat grinder, dip me in acid, but do not come anywhere NEAR me with a needle!" They shouted down at them and he sighed, facepalming as he heard the answer he'd gotten every year.

"I expected better of you." Gears sighed and Iceberg crossed his arms.

"You're 34, can't you act like it once?" Iceberg huffed his point in this.

"Technically, I'm 25." They noted the age they stopped at, regeneration covering the loss of cells and giving them the look of a much younger individual. 

"Still an adult. Now get down." Iceberg argued. (Y/n) only scrunched up their nose at him and stuck their tongue out.

"Bright. You're up." Kondraki motioned to Dr. Bright, who looked very pleased he got the chance to do what he wanted here.

"Haha, watch this." He strode over to the doorway and flipped one of the two switches next to it, powering the fan on with success. 

(Y/n) remained attached to it, spinning at an increasingly rapid pace until the motion leveled out. They looked on with a mix of amusement and utter disappointment.

"Have you practiced this??" Gears squinted, baffled, but not surprised.

"Only every day of my life!" they cackle maniacally. This was the year they finally won. No shots for (Y/n)!!

"I didn't want to have to do this." Kondraki picked up his walkie-talkie, and Bright flipped the switch for the fan, watching it come to a stop with a certain amount of respect for the art of chaos.

"You won't be reasoned with, you won't be bested, we must resort to cheating." Dr. Bright gave his speech, lips pressed into a firm line in standing his ground. 

"You're not my dad!" They shouted at him.

"I'm old enough to be!" he shouted back.

"Clef, (Y/n) is stuck to the ceiling this year." Kondraki spoke into the small, boxy device. It gave a distorted, sharp sound.

"Got tired of the kitchen table gambit?" Clef's voice came through almost clearly.

"We took the handcuffs away last week to prepare for that. I don't think we should have." He was more than tired.

"I'm already on my way." Clef replied.

"He can't do shit! Watch this!" (Y/n) had managed to get their leg securely over one of the blades, swinging their torso up and successfully laying over two of the five.

"You're lucky we make those out of steel." Iceberg was further unimpressed. 

"You're lucky I'm not as bad as Kain with his shots." They argued back.

"We can sedate Kain, you're just awful!" Iceberg exclaimed loudly.

"Have no fear, Clef is here!" The ukulele man strummed a couple notes before tossing the instrument onto their couch and cracking his knuckles.

"Good. I'm going to go get coffee. When you get them down, the shot is on their kitchen counter." Kondraki left with Bright tagging along to bother him.

"I will be back shortly to help with the shot. I promised to walk Iceberg home." Gears had his arm looped with Iceberg's, who looked happy with the arrangement.

"Just you'n me, sweetheart." he looked up at his partner in crime, feeling cocky.

"I'm gonna raid your fridge." He immediately turned and went right into the kitchen, earning a great bit of objection.

"What? No! Get outta there!" they shouted.

"Come stop me." He stuck his tongue out at them, matching their childish game.

"No way!" They stayed stubborn.

"Then the price of redemption for your crimes is your fruit snacks." He stated.

"Haha! Ate them this morning." (Y/n) felt triumphant and Clef pouted.

"Damn. I didn't think you're impulse control had gotten that out of whack." he said.

"You'd be surprised how bad my impulse control can be." They boasted.

"You leave me no choice." He grabbed a kitchen chair and walked into the living area with it, earning a smug grin.

"What're you gonna do with that, shorty? Reach the top shelf?" They mocked.

"Imma fucking get you 's what imma do." He grumbled, irritated at the nickname, and clambered on top of the wooden chair.

"You'll never reach me." they mused.

"Watch this." He eyed the fan like a cat, his parkor legacy would begin here, he's the greatest jumper to walk the face of the earth, he's-

His internal monologue of a pep talk was cut short when he wobbled.

"Yep. Not doing that." he climbed off, instead grabbing the multi step stool they had in the closet beside the door.

"I hate this thing." He set it out with more effort than one should ever have to use, the stool old and rusted at the ends.

Less than gracefully, he started to ascend, making it most of the way up.

"I feel so bad for you right now. I jumped up here." They chuckled spitefully.

"Not everyone was born with fabulous legs and the ability to gain superpowers once a year at flu season." he grabbed the fan, finally, and they applauded him.

"Great. You're mostly here." they snickered mischievously as he attempted a pull up. 

He failed that pull up terribly. 

Nearly sent plummeting, he knocked over the stool and yelped when he was left to dangle from the metal blade.

"I didn't wanna go out like this!" he yelled.

"I don't want the shot." They retorted. 

"You win! You win! Help me, please!" He conceded defeat and, in seconds, he was grabbed by his shirt and hoisted up and over the side of the fan to lay over it and catch his breath.

"(Y/n), you fool." He grinned a sharp toothed, wicked grin. 

"Oh no…" They shrunk back.

"You've trapped yourself!" he exclaimed, drawing the syringe from his pocket.

(Y/n) screeched with horror, scrambling back and falling off the fan thoughtlessly.

"No you DON'T!!!" He threw himself down to them, landing with a loud Thump! on his knees and immediately screaming. 

"Fuck, shit, goddamn, fuckfuckfuckfuck-" his kneecaps were taking their time recovering, his regeneration a much more painful process than theirs.

"You've betrayed me! You deserve your broken knees!" they tried to dislodge themself from his hold.

"I will put this through your eye!" He held the syringe menacingly and they froze.

"..." He was regretting that. 

"You know I'm a liar, why do you even humor the thought I'd do that?" He stuck them in the arm and they whimpered.

"See, not so bad?" he finally removed his thighs from either side of their torso, standing. They only remained rigid.

"It was a joke." he nudged them with his shoe and sighed. 

"It's over now, you want ice cream?" he offered. "Hello?" he waved a hand in front of them, and finally got a response. 

"Aghuuubfvbbfy!!" their whole body convulsed and shuddered a moment before they sat up, looking at him with more pain than he'd ever seen on them.

"I am never going to let you near me with a syringe again." They stated, horrified.

"I still have it. It'd be cruel of me to stick you for fun." he rolled it in his palm.

"But I am rather cruel." He made a sharp noise and elicited another screech from them as they backed into the wall.

"Another joke, jesus christ, calm down." he tossed the used plastic syringe behind him, just letting it land wherever.

"You calm down, I'm gonna be scared from this!" They exclaimed.

"That's what you get for acting like a child." He crossed his arms and nodded.

"If childishness attracts karma, you're really in for it." They argued right back.

[onestowatch]

goodboy noah Is Keeping Things Retro With Sophomore EP ‘Cool’ [Q&A]

Photo: Stefanie Moser

Only six months after the release of his debut EP Nice, R&B/neo-soul singer goodboy noah is back with the release of his sophomore EP, Cool. The Toronto native, LA-based artist known for his tongue-in-cheek and earworm melodies has gifted us with a perfect collection of tracks just in time for the holidays.

Singles “Backseat,” “Hit N’ Run,” “Attitude,” and “Buggin,” were released prior to today and the final tracks “Treasure” and “Long Night” wrap up the six track EP, beautifully. We sat down with goodboy noah to talk about not only his EP but also his first festival announcement, music influences, and DIY music videos.

Ones to Watch: Congrats on the release of your sophomore EP! I’m a fan (obviously) but for those who are new here, how would you describe your music and sound without using any genres?

goodboy noah: Thanks! Hmmm, I guess the words I’d use to describe it are fun, organic, bouncy, cheeky, smooth, and soulful.

If you had to choose, what’s your favorite track off the EP and why?

I think my favorite song is probably “Attitude,” just because it reminds me of the 2000’s R&B I would listen to growing up. I love the guitar and bassline, and we wrote and recorded the song during a writing camp. It’s one of those songs that was made quickly and easily.

Did the writing process change at all from your debut EP Nice to Cool?

It changed a lot, just because of COVID. Nice was written during the second half of 2020, so a lot of the collaborative writing process was virtual, and a lot of the recording I would do on my own in my bedroom. With Cool, I was able to do a lot of that in person with my friends Micah Gordon and Dan Henig, since we worked on that this year. Also, I think we discovered more of the sound I want to have moving forward with this EP. And making it together in the same room definitely helped with that. Everything seems more real and organic to me.

I love the retro vibe you’ve carried throughout your previous EP and this one. Is that going to continue as goodboy noah’s statement style or are you planning on switching things up on us?

I definitely love the retro sound. I think it just happens naturally with me because of my main R&B influences growing up. I love bouncy R&B with real instruments and stacked vocals, which people automatically associate with the 2000’s. I think I want to lean into that even more going forward. Use more real instruments and drum samples, so that everything sounds timeless.

Who or what influenced you while working on Cool?

I get a lot of influence from the artists I listened to growing up, like I mentioned before. That was a lot of Usher, Lauryn Hill, Ne-yo, Mary J. Blige, Nate Dogg, etc. So it always comes from them mixed with the artists I’m listening to currently like Silk Sonic, Ari Lennox, Kehlani, Free Nationals, and Remi Wolf.

Your music videos are my favorite, they feel very DIY yet professional. Can you walk us through what the process looks like? How involved are you in creating them?

Oh, they are extremely DIY haha. I’m lucky to have friends and collaborators with great camera gear, so we can go out and shoot what we want. I come up with the concepts for the videos with Dan and the rest of my team, and we just go out and shoot them. We do most of the editing ourselves too. I definitely like to lean into the silly, quirky stuff in the videos. My favorite video from the EP is probably “Hit N’ Run.” The mermaid absolutely stole the show in my opinion.

If you could tour with anyone, who would it be?

Off the top of my head I’d say Teddy Swims, Ari Lennox, and Kehlani. I think their music is unbelievable, and they also seem like a fun time.

What song are you most excited to perform live?

I can wait to perform “Treasure,” which is off the new EP. The first verse has this kind of lazy rapping section that I’ve never done live, so I’m excited to try that out.

You announced your first ever festival spot for Treefort Music Fest in March, how does that feel?

I’m really excited for that! I’ve never played a festival or been to Idaho, so I can’t wait. Gonna be great to perform and meet everyone who comes out and to see the other acts.

What’s next for goodboy noah?

I’m just gonna keep it moving with more music starting back up in 2022. You can expect a lottt more music, and I think it’s getting better and better. Also, I have some exciting features and collabs for next year, so I can't wait.

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Croatia brings no men in a hamster wheel to Rotterdam 2021

Now could this be the teddy bear uprising invasion Muse has warned us about 12 years ago?

And LITERALLY, these review series make me feel like Croatia is openly taunting me - I watch the days go, I’m losing track of time, and when another day comes, I’m screaming “oh no I forgot to publish a review sooner than wanted!!”. Guess I’m for one glad there’s a time related song this year, hum?

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Repping the Adriatic coast nation that got all the sea instead of Bosnia & Herzegovina is some 22 year old Albina Grčić, who first popped up on X Factor Adria back when that was a thing, and got lumped into a girlgroup in later stages, but to that she said “hvala ne” and moved on with her life, getting eliminated just like that. Queen <3 She did get her second chance to compete as a soloist and make a more prominent mark on her career when she ended up on The Voice in Croatia. She did well, placing third overall in the season, but somehow, during the duel stage, her coach initially favoured her fellow Dora 2021 contestant Filip Rudan:

Her Voice success landed her a record deal with the Croatian division of Universal Music, she released a debut single, sometime later ended up on Dora, and here she is now, on Eurovision.

“Tick-Tock” is the song, a standard upbeat pop song, and one of the ones that talks about a girl leaving a terrible relationship and being so well over it that she “found [her]self and [she’s] finally free”, and the “tick-tock” here is used to represent the time passing by, not the sound of her heart, unlike a fellow ESC entry of a similar title. The tune (or its lyrics only) is co-authored by some dude you might’ve heard of from France’s 2018 preselection Destination Eurovision, and that is Max Cinnamon - some half-English guy with a half English song about love (”Ailleurs”) that did moderately averagely in the final... I don’t even know if his influence shows, I just love how 2021 has sort of become revenge of the NF flops but they’re writing other entries instead (Suzi P, “Adrenalina”).

REVIEW

I often don’t really fully vibe with female bops in Eurovision as much as I want to, like, for the most part they’re overhyped, and I let the “yass queeeeen” audience gorge on the everything their favourite bops give them. But this year there are plenty of great ones to choose from, as I think that it’s safe to say that most, if not all, are tucked in somewhere inside my top 20, top 25 at the very minimum. Croatia managed to even do the impossible and land into my top 10.

Why?

Well, the answer is that the song is just so damn good.

I mean, what’s NOT to like about it? It’s a catchy and upbeat song that incorporates xylophones (or whatever is it that sounds like them), guitars and synths; has a good bassline in the chorus; and it’s just... a very good composition overall, like, all the instruments in it are just in their right place and uplift the song massively. I also like Albina’s performance on it, both live and studio, it clearly shows that she’s a very good singer (also shown on her cover of the scandalous Oscar award snubbery “Husavik”). Sounds like a song a common pop loving Eurofan could gear themselves towards. Besides, it also has possibly my favourite pre-chorus section of the 2021 year? Oh wait, there’s also Switzerland, scratch that. “Tick-Tock” has one of my favourite pre-chorus sections of 2021. It builds up so well instrumentally and the way Albina sings it is even better. I obviously like to believe Albina heard those voices from far away that helped her to escape, has found herself, and she’s finally free from her “partner’s” bad lovin’ and restraint. Yas queen go be free you didn’t deserve his tomfoolery anyway!  👏 (Also I admire a section that’s not quite the pre-chorus but is still before the 1st chorus, the one that goes “If you pull me down then I'll come around” - literally just a lot of the parts of the song are full of nice vocal performance and I don’t regret ranking this in my top 10 not a second.)

If it has any drawbacks, it’s just that it gets a tad too repetitive after the halfway mark... like, the pre-chorus before the second chorus is the one to be repeated once again, and no new verse, nothing - but it does launch itself into something extraordinary, and that is a chorus in Croatian, which I assume she would perform in Eurovision because there’s no Eurovision version on the song promo bundle, I suppose. Comparatively the Croatian chorus is not as complex in lyrics as the English language one, and flows slightly differently too. But the song still has a long chorus by the end, and song with too many choruses is never a good sign for those that look for a song that’s constructed well, but I guess it’s a good factor for those that value the song’s catchiness. I guess that’s what one of the two Eurovision 2005 hosts valued the most when writing the Ukrainian 2006 entry “Show Me Your Love”, which if you ask me, is straight up 75% chorus, lol.

So yeah my verdict is that almost everything about this song, I like. I’m just a little devastated that in a usually very easily gorged on category of female bops, this just tends to lag behind in love, like a fellow song I really like this year, Israel. Instead people tend to prioritize Cyprus (which I get because they’ve established themselves as a girlbanger nation since Fuego swept Eurovision) and... probably even Azerbaijan? (which I might also get because Eurovision rarely has this thing called an ethnobop anymore, and it has more ethno than “Cleopatra” did, but still unnecessarily underwhelming lol.) Well then, in a year of female bangers, I would just like Croatia to not be swept under the rug come semis I guess. Yeah “Tick-Tock” may not sound like it brings something totally never seen before in a Eurovision environment (foreign language lyrics, themes about a break up, hell even her dancers looked like they were wearing the same hats as Tamta’s dancers), but you got to have a lot in you to sell a worn out idea to the new heights, and Albina does exactly that in my eyes.

Approval factor: Yeah! There is a lot of it in here for me. Follow-up factor: A great follow-up, not so great in regards to panini but musically it’s just going up and up from what we had in the past few years. I’ve actually not minded “The Dream” for the most part but I knew it was a chanceless plodding ballad and Roko harboured heaps of wasted potential working with Jacques Houdek and having wings as part of his performance, uff. *_* And then there’s “Divlji vjetre” which I also like a lot - a much better male ballad winner choice! If the Dora re-up winners keep being decent imo just like this, I have a feeling I will follow it a lot more often than I did just this one time this year. I am just saying that panini-wise, it was a sucky move from HRT for not allowing their last year’s winner promote his new song with Tijana (from Serbia 2017) on the Dora night, so we sadly only heard a pre-recorded opening version of “Divlji vjetre” to start off with :( Otherwise I think it’s not Dora’s fault in itself that Damir himself chose not to even submit an entry this year because he hadn’t found a good one - much like with Diodato for Sanremo (he was NOT rejected, if you think he still was, shush). But aside that, musically, it just keeps going up for me. Well done Croatia, for you’ve used to be a Eurovision country I don’t necessarily care about, that you brought two pretty damn good entries in a row. Qualification factor: I can absolutely trust in Albina bringing in a little bit of her charisma and well-likedness, and on top of that, a great vocal performance, in Rotterdam. Don’t ask me why, I just do. She doesn’t really perform her song live on pre-parties as much as I’d like to hope she would, but you heard girlie on the national selection, she didn’t win for nothing. Yeah yeah there might as well be female uptempo songs hungrier for the last spot, but I’d like to think Albina is one of the ones ready to devour than to be devoured. Go girl! Take us all dancing!

NF CORNER

To be honest with you, “Tick-Tock” winning Dora caught me by surprise. Ever since its re-up, the last two editions were kind of won by male ballads, and maaaaybe the dancey females were doing moderately well enough for themselves, but not overall? But look, juries were very keen on Albina, probably because she can SANG and she creates one hell of a fancy presence on her performance. And somehow she ended up snatching a win out of the hands of 5G conspiracy theorist 2016 representative Nina Kraljić, who was at first too drunk to care, but too unexpectedly sober to yell all over the soc. media how she was robbed and how the contest was rigged against her with her being on first and all that. Which is a shame that she is one of THOSE people, because her NF entry “Rijeka” is kinda nice? We did have the Balkan-esque ballads coming from Croatia in recent memory, but we haven’t had a truly proudly folksy one at that from Croatia for a long while, if not ever. Nina could’ve very well brought that to Rotterdam (and another mismatched wardrobe choice oops). But instead she was the one screaming “oh no, oh no, oh no”.

Actually I regarded Nina as one of my faves pre-show, and Albina was on her way, though she didn’t really cement the personal fav status until after all performances, thus making Nina and Albina switch spots for me. But truly, the one song that was my top favourite, iiiiiiiiiiis

GIMME AN OCEAN! OF LOVE!

2021 made me realize that damn, maybe anything that’s funky is my favourite music genre afterall. Up until then I vibed with entries like “Tonight Again” and “What’s the Pressure?” that had this sort of energetic flair and very rhythmic kinda sound to it, but 2021 just simply cemented it to me that my music world has probably been about nice and smooth and funky all along. I owe so much gratitude to ToMa first and foremost along the lines of more to have come in this year’s lineups - I just can’t not want to dance to “Ocean of Love”, and ToMa is quite alright at selling it live as well. There are small gripes with some instrument usages but that doesn’t detract from the fact that I love love LOVE funky guitar tunes.

Aside from that, I can give shout outs to Beta Sudar, whose song not only was underrated, but also had an underrated meme format throughout its performance:

My other props go to Bernarda, who not only competed in a national selection singing a song about seeing “Colors” while blind (and ironically there was a song called “Blind” in that same NF sung by a well-seeing guy!!), but also for finally putting this every country’s reject to rest. Seriously. That particular song was passed on to everyone in need of a competitive Eurovision bop, from Poli Genova to Helena Paparizou as of recently. Oh well, at least the song died a honourable death - well performed slice of good typical Eurovision pop (maybe even overperformed a little towards the end), that got a good rank with the regional juries, but somewhat murdered in televote, fellow Boris Milanov composition “Chameleon” style.

This one Mia Negovetić chick was promising too! Her song was written by the Debs and you might be tired of them trying to continue infiltrating Eurovision at this point, but a lot of their Eurovision songs are usually something I enjoy, “She’s Like a Dream” is no exception. Nothing but 3 minutes of pastel-dressed Croatian Ariana Grande doing what she does best <3

Oh and also some dudes tried to play chess on stage too I guess. But their song is not worth looking into, because one of the acts on it is apparently also a conspiracist, and maybe because oft this their entry is aptly titled “Sing, for the freedom has arrived!” lol I wonder what exactly is the kind of freedom you’re thinking of my guy

Was this the “better mood game” Laura was warning everyone about? Beats me

NF CORNER (NON-COMPETITIVE)

• It’s still hilarious to me as to how one of the acts this year, Brigita Vuco, was planning to bring in backing dancers, only for them to show a fake COVID test or something and outright BARRED from coming with her on stage. <3 Whatever she intended to do with them dancers, I have absolutely no idea, but at least she committed to her song being about drunken nights visually by having all these blurry shots

• Nina Kraljić’s greenroom shenanigans, from the “1-2-3, 1-2-3, drink” to numb the sadness over some results (and the 8 she got from the region Rijeka for the song “Rijeka” lmao), to whatever she saw on the phone that made her smile or go neutral

• Greenroom reactions in general. I swear, this year had cameramen in every single corner everywhere just to make sure something covers up for a human audience instead of severals of Zoom screens permitted to act as an audience. Random people in greenrooms were doing some sort of emotions after random acts, and also randomly they ended up pointing a camera towards an act that lost, but the act didn’t treat losing as if it were such a big deal <3

• All the other memes the Croatian Twitter might’ve noticed me for:

seriously Bernarda was locked in a bluelight mathematical dice contraption. how fucking cool is that

ANY LAST WORDS?

I just fucking hope that Albina shatters any doubts that people have had about her song come rehearsals, and somehow Croatia AND Israel slip through, because never too many female bangers I appreciate in the final, if they all are the bangers I appreciate, lol.