#And like IDK maybe you can upend it maybe your understanding is better

[satashiiwrites]

Um…. I don’t need another project but this idea has been floating around in my head for over a year.  Don’t expect anything finished or fleshed out any time soon.  This is just to try and get me back on writing regularly… because my schedule has sucked the last month or so. 

Title: Untitled…. Maybe Bradley the Damned?  no. That’s too… nope.  Untitled BradNate Mummy fic. We’re going with that. 

Fandom: Generation Kill

Pairings: BradNate 

Other tags: AU. Mummies. Anne Rice inspired…. Which that warning makes me twitch. Probably never doing more of this? Maybe ? Idk. 

Warnings: first draft. Thinking late Victorian setting of which I have not done enough research for this…. So yeah. We’re off the reservation here… and I do not want another large project….

Nate hesitated and then reached for the cup of tea that Schwetje had already poured for him. He didn’t appreciate that Schwetje had been allowed into the house but he’d have to be polite—until he had a reason to remove him from his uncle’s company Nate would have to play nice until he had a better grasp of the accounting. Pasting a false half-smile on his face, he nodded and added a sugar cube and a dash of milk to delay having to say anything as Schwetje continued to ramble on about accounting delays and why he couldn’t deliver the books to Nate just yet. 

Over Craig’s shoulder, the morning light had landed on the open coffin and the mummified body within it appeared vaguely more bulky now that there was proper light to see it that streamed through the east facing windows that Walt had opened this morning when he’d been laying out the breakfast service.  The ancient bandages that wrapped the body were still yellowed but you could now make out the shape of the body underneath them as having belonged to a very tall for the time man. Nate vaguely wondered what he’d looked like when part of what Craig was saying pulled his attention back. 

“—so you see it’ll be a few weeks before we can get the accounting books to you,” he stated, a weirdly sly smile on his face that Nate instantly distrusted. Lord—no excuse Nate’s error for forgetting the preferred honorific—Captain Craig Schwetje had been delaying now for over a month and his excuses had already been growing thin without this latest one.  How his uncle had ever put up with the odious man Nate didn’t know but he was rapidly losing his patience. 

Scowling, Nate lowered the cup without taking a sip. “Captain, you can understand my concerns about—“

“Drink your tea,” Schwetje interrupted. “It’s getting cool I was waiting for you for so long.  You really should make an effort to be ready for business appointments earlier than mid morning.”

Mouth closing with a snap, Nate stared at the man across the table from him for a few moments while he tried to think of a polite response.  Reclining into the chair, Schwetje took a loud slurp of his own tea, giving Nate a jaunty little salute with the cup before just staring at him as if daring Nate to say something. Raising his cup to take a sip for no other reason than it’d keep his mouth busy from saying something potentially ruinous, it was slapped out of his hands right before he could let the hot liquid touch his lips by a bandage wrapped arm that made Nate startle and jump out of his chair in surprise with a yell. “Bloody hell!”

It hadn’t been Captain Schwetje’s arm that had knocked the tea away—it was the mummy’s!

The high pitched scream of surprise and horror that Schwetje let loose was followed by a crash as the breakfast table was upended by the man kicking it and scrambling away. A gun appeared in his hand and the loud shot cracked through the space making Nate’s ears ring as the wrapped body next to his chair let loose a pained grunt and staggered as the bullet lodged deep in the torso area. 

Schwetje’s next two shots would have hit Nate if it hadn’t been for the mummy that pushed him out of the way, tumbling to the floor in the mess of broken dishes and putting him out of sight and knocking his head into the hard oak of the chair to make him see stars. 

Three more shots buried themselves in the mummy—two in the back of the head and and one in the back near the spine. 

This did slow the mummy but it continued to move.  

Shrieking, Schwetje ran out of the room and left Nate alone with the impossible figure. 

#future bradnate #genkill AU #Untitled bradnate mummy fic #wip wednesday #first draft #Gen kill #generation kill

[throwaninkpot]

RotT reactions part 2!

costis, what are you doing here, shouldn't you be in roa? shouldn't you be with kamet? costis, where's kamet? what happened to him? tell me!

"who really owns anything?" eugenides, you utter meme.

if tattoos a custom in eddis, does. .....does helen have tattoos? oh my word, please tell me helen has tattoos, she would look so cool.

so, so, so, horrible invasion, giant army, logistics of war. it's very terrible and interesting, but where kamet? where my boy? is he okay? costis just LEFT him behind, bc he had to get word back to attolia, I don't blame him, I love him. but is kamet okay????????????????????

rip to all the cottage fic people probably wrote about the two having a chill time in roa. (idk, I haven't checked.) megan said we can't have nice things.

"find yourselves another king" uhhhhhhh, gen?

gen said no more king, now only Thief and Hot Consort To The Sexy Queen.

awww, sophos gave him a book of poetry for his birthday. I love sophos.

"attolia says she leaves with you" *spends several long minutes clutching at my chest repeatedly as I am Overwhelmed*

you know the quote in koa about a careful dance of shafow and unsubstance but under it all, a real marriage of two people? that's literally this. the queen is surely calculated her possible responses to gen, amd this is either a Pointed Message to gen or to the barons, and I'm still not sure what gen is up to actually, but also. she loves him, guys. they're in love. "she leaves with you". they're in love.

"I asked her to leave with me on our wedding night" of course he did.

"except me, I can do anything I want" :'D

they're too soft. I cannot.

go, costis! save your boy!

..........is this where I formally apologize for rolling my eyes back in 2016 when people shipped teleus/relius? I genuinely did not see this coming.

megan said okay, we've been on our best behavior, it's been 25 years, she will sprinkle in a little canon queerness. and then upended a flour sack of it on us.

"he had to bend to keep his lips on hers until she reached the ground" they're too cute, this is illegal.

oh, now THAT'S some soap opera level nonsense. how awkward was it for gen and helen knowing his father was a spurned lover of her mother

sometimes soldiers. I am eating this stuff up.

they get no apology. h*ck the pents. maybe they should have chosen an ambassador that didn't force himself upon women.

"where sounis's father positively beamed with approval at his son, eddis's minister of war glowered. the high king, slumped in his seat, catching his father's glare, slumped even further." it be like that.

ten to one. oof, oof, oof.

okay, the solution is, one of gen's sisters should beat up cleon and therespides.

gen. you were the one paying him. I don't know why I'm ever surprised by the tangled schemes you wrap yourself up in.

every scene that the four monarchs are together, just having a good time and loving each other and sounding so much like the young people they are, every time, it makes me happy.

the fandom tried to figure out at what age boys left the dorms in Eddis, didn't we? I think we settled on 12 or 13. gen killed someone before he was 13. hachi machi.

he called him "my brother sounis". awww.

"without cheating" is that what we're calling godly visits now

eugenides will give me a heart attack, I swear.

they call it return of the thief bc this is the most like himself gen has acted since the crenellations in KoA.

(fitting that this is the book with a neuroduvergent pov, bc I have never happy stimmed more in my life than during the chase scene.)

when he starts windmilling, now I am afraid. oh please, megan, don't let him be hurt.

thank the gods.

helen wearing an eddisian uniform. heck yeah! gnc helen rights continue!

"it was the last lighthearted moment for a long time" :(

they're leaving the city, and I'm suddenly remember the comment from back in book of pheris 1 about an attack by a tomb. am afraid.

it's loving the magus o' clock. he treats pheris so well.

irenides baby......2!!!!

"I don't understand" you and me both, sophos.

"I think they have to show their worst selves sometimes in order to be sure that even at their worst they are loved" I need a minute.

I love tactics and logistics, but I wish I could picture this my head. the map doesn't actually help me figure out where the forces are in perspective.

megan really wasn't exaggerating when she said eugenides's first reaction to seeing an elephant is "I want to steal one."

"he muscled up his other arm and said he would destroy the Medes single-handed" these books are giving me a stroke. megan, that pun was beautiful.

"I have found Kamet!" I'm going to be sick. he had better be okay. he was supposed to be free of nahuseresh.

nasty man had better be lying. my kamet had better be okay.

oh, costis. okay, okay, alright.

why is cleon's death so sombering. I think it's bc I just reread "Thief!", and met him as a teenager in that. I think it's bc it says he's one of three cousins that died that day, and gen already lost so many cousins during the war in QoA. I loved the country of eddis when I was first reading these books and forever after that, bc it's so full. there's a very communal child-rearing system and gen has these packs of cousins, even if most of them spent their childhood bullying him, I loved the idea of having so much family around you. he's running out of family.

oh. I went back to reading from writing that, and. stenides. oh.

I said I wanted gen's siblings, but not like this.

well, here's some cairns. presumably the tombs pheris's foreshadowed earlier. here we go, something bad is going to happen.

Something Bad Happened.

oh, no, Hilarion. D:

*tiffany haddish voice* NOMENUS??? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS. I PUT YOU ON MY BINGO.

the man at the cairn. the god on the battlefield that megan referenced? but eugenides called him a dead man. so not a god. so, did he recognize him as someone he knew to be dead?

"my cousins know not to trust my tears" once again, gen's hail mary is the fact he's a little snipe.

he says he needs a heavier rain, and the gods deliver.

f in chat for nomenus. he was a snake, but still.

"and by my oath to my god, now and for my life, Thief of Eddis." YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, Philo. :(

rip to Legarus and his Awesome Beauty.

they want to kill gen in The Thief? eddis's council wanted to kill him? I'm reeling from all the backstory this book is revealing.

not quite how I had the apotheosis pictured, and yet. *sufjan steven's ascension plays in the background*

"I say it three times, Fordad. It will be so. It will be so. It will be so." holy heck.

someone get in here and analyze that for biblical symbolism.

HE CALLED DOWN LIGHTNING. HOLY

narration only calls him eugenides in that scene with the lightning. significant.

"feeling the tremor in it, he opened his arms to catch the king as he fell." he has fallen and been caught by his god and fallen and been caught by his dad.

I think we'll call the interregnum an interlude into the underworld, if not a journey into.

oh, gods, relius.

for a former spymaster, he sure trusted too easily.

he could have had his farm in the gede valley, but he stayed to help irene and gen. oh, relius, relius.

sejanus has a saving grace afterall.

dite and sejanus protecting each other, and pretending to hate each other so that sejanus at least can be on good terms with their father, that all clicks into place when you know about their older brother who they probably loved just as much.

crying crying crying over Sejanus and Pheris.

the minster of war. D:

at least nahuseresh is dead.

gen lay down to sleep by his father's corpse.

the patrimony divided in three. a triangle.

sophos/helen baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love that gen, knowing his cousin and also being a little sneak who notices everything, figured out helen was pregnant before sophos even did.

f for sejanus. he wasn't as bad as he seemed, and not nearly as bad as he almost was.

oh, xenophon died, too. he of the wooden cannons and receiver of the infamous "I love stupid plans" line.

why is everyone dead. :(

"they're at the pickets, both of them" oh, thank you, jesus. TWO PEOPLE WHO AREN'T DEAD. MY BOYS.

she dreams of Eddis empty. there's no words for the relief I feel.

twinssss!!

and yet they don't tell us the name!!!!! what was the MoW's name??? what is their son's name??? megan!!!!!!

gen holding his daughter for the first time and offering to pitch her off a roof. I don't even have words.

hector. hector. hector hector hector.

rooftop dance!!!!!!!!!!!

HE'S OKAY. RELIUS IS OKAY.

(you couldn't give us one costis and kamet dance? no, it's fine.)

peace. peace. peace.

crying.

#queen's thief #return of the thief #rott spoilers #rott #qt spoilers #this has been a post

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 16 of don’t read the last page is here!

masterpost

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

“I mean, even if that is what she’s filming today,” he said to a cat recovering from minor surgery as he held out a toy for it to bat around, “it’s not a big deal. I mean, she’s an actor, right? And anyway it’s for the movie, so no one else will see it yet, and everyone will know it’s fake. So it doesn’t bother me.”

The cat stopped playing and gave him a look that said even I know that’s bullshit, buddy.

Kristoff had always been a patient person. He wondered sometimes if it had started when his parents had adopted his oldest sister, or a few years before that when he had been a ward of the state waiting to be wanted, or perhaps he had just been born this way, stoic and solid, slow to anger and quick to forgive.

The magazine display in the checkout lane was testing that right now. 

She had been excited about that photoshoot with People just a couple of weeks ago. “They want me to be on the cover!” she had called to tell him on her way home from Sam’s office. “And do an article about, y’know, my rise to fame and stuff. I mean, it’s not Vogue or anything so it’s not a huge deal, but still!”

He didn’t really recognize her on the cover. They had slimmed her down for some reason, when just last week she had come home from a doctor’s visit upset because the doctor had told her he was worried about the rate at which she was losing weight when she had already been slender. “I just don’t have time to eat on set sometimes,” she had explained to Kristoff as they went through the grocery store together, both of them in sweatshirts with the hood pulled up. “And then I’m dancing all day, and then I’m stressed as fuck, and I just…”

(He’d packed her lunch every day since then and left a note in each bag. She sent him a picture one day of all of them taped up around her mirror.)

Somehow worse than that, though, was the little blurb in splashy pink letters: Anna Arendelle Rises To Fame...And Falls In Love? Find Out More On Page 36!

She’d done the interview before the Hans debacle, and when they’d asked if she had ever been in love before she had said, “Oh, absolutely. And it’s the most amazing, wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. I’d take that over the fame any day.”

It had been romantic when she had told him about it later that night when they laid tangled in bed together. It was less romantic now knowing that it was followed up in the article with a whole paragraph about her New Year’s duet with Hans Westergaard.

Between the two of them, they had almost all of the magazines on the rack covered, most of them promising “details about their budding romance inside!” One particularly abhorrent one actually had a picture of Kristoff next to her one day sitting on a park bench; he’d had his hood on, and she’d made the mistake of keeping hers off and leaving that unmistakable red hair on display. Still, he had no idea how anyone would be stupid enough to think he was Hans, considering he had a good five inches and thirty pounds at least on the other man. Then again, the same magazine promised proof Prince William was a lizard.

He turned that one around so no one else could see it, and then picked up a Twix-- Anna’s favorite-- and threw it in the cart. On second thought, he grabbed another; he needed one, too.

---

"Damn, is that really gonna work under latex gloves?"

Kristoff jumped and slammed his laptop shut. "Jesus, didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to look over people's shoulders?"

The vet tech grinned. "Yeah. But I think when you see your favorite intern looking at engagement rings, you can make an exception. That bloodwork came back clean, by the way. We can send him home tomorrow."

"Thanks, Ryder."

The other man plopped down in the seat across from him. "Pay me back by finally telling me more about this girlfriend."

He groaned. "Why are you so invested in this?"

"I already watched all the good stuff on Netflix. Now I'm bingeing coworker drama. Casey and Paul are fucking, by the way, which is why--"

"They suddenly both started volunteering for kennel clean-up, yeah. Obvious."

"So give me something better to talk about. Like why you were seriously looking at a heart shaped stone."

"It's romantic!"

"It's cheesy. She'll hate it. Probably."

"How do you know so much about women?"

Ryder waggled his eyebrows. "I'm kind of a love expert."

"Didn't you tell me once you were perpetually single?"

"Exactly. I know exactly why to avoid all the bullshit. Stop changing the subject. What's her name?"

"Anna," Kristoff said before he could stop himself, and Ryder grinned.

---

had to talk to hans today bc we r shooting stuff together again

he was super apologetic

said it was a waiter who filmed n leaked it n that he called the company

.

Do you believe him?

.

idk

he said the bowtie thing was to match the confetti not me

i think i believe that part at least i mean why else would he have had a silver one lying around

.

Maybe he already had some ready no matter what color you wore.

.

idk i think that’s too creepy even for him

it is right?

god i can’t think about that today

He waited a long time before texting her again, keeping his focus on the puppies he was giving their first shots instead of why today was apparently the wrong day to think about just what Hans would do to capture her attention. As hard as clinicals were and as exhausting as it was, this was the work he had dreamed of doing his whole life, and the fact that it required his full attention when he most needed a distraction from the rest of the world was the cherry on top right now.

But then the puppies were vaccinated, and it was already four o’clock, and all that was left to do for the day was check on the animals who were staying in the kennels overnight, and his mind couldn’t help but wander as he went from cage to cage.

“I mean, even if that is what she’s filming today,” he said to a cat recovering from minor surgery as he held out a toy for it to bat around, “it’s not a big deal. I mean, she’s an actor, right? And anyway it’s for the movie, so no one else will see it yet, and everyone will know it’s fake. So it doesn’t bother me.”

The cat stopped playing and gave him a look that said even I know that’s bullshit, buddy.

Anna had gotten home before him for once that night. She was already in the shower, and she didn’t emerge until he’d already cooked dinner and was half-considering digging in to his plate. “Oh! Hey, baby,” she said as she came into the kitchen, still only wearing her towel. “I thought I heard you in here.”

“Jesus, Anna, how hot did you have the water? You look like a lobster.”

“Nice to see you too,” she said, trying to tease, but she looked away from him instead of coming over to greet him like she always did with a kiss.

He went to her instead and stood before her, not touching her like his heart was screaming for him to do; she leaned away, just barely enough to confirm his suspicions.

“You had to do a kissing scene today, didn’t you?”

She only nodded.

“It wasn’t really you guys,” he said softly. “Just your characters. Did he-- did he try anything?”

“No, not at all. He was a perfect gentleman, and it went just fine, and after he made sure I wasn’t bothered since he knew I was kind of upset about all the hubbub but...I don’t know, Kris. I don’t know what’s acting for him and what isn’t.”

A tear slid down her cheek and spattered on the floor. Still he didn’t touch her, waiting to let her make the first move. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Me too. I’m sorry I...god. I’m sorry for everything.”

“I’m not upset about it, though,” he lied. “In case you were worried.”

She stepped closer to him then, pressing her still-damp forehead against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, letting his thumb rub gentle circles over her shoulder. This is why, Kristoff, he reminded himself, this is why you can’t tell her.

“I love you,” she said, sounding so forlorn he could have sworn he felt a little crack open up in his chest.

“Love you too. More than anything.”

---

He still didn't understand exactly how to use Twitter, but he did know enough to understand that when he logged in and saw stuff about Anna before he even searched her name, something big was happening.

Exclusive new behind the scenes photos from Anastasia! Click here for more:

It already had six thousand retweets, and dozens of replies all screaming about the photo of Hans and Anna clinging to one another. They were in full costume, surrounded by cameras, and the photo was grainy, but still he couldn't help but zoom in on Anna's face, the way she gazed up so lovingly at Hans, the same way she used to look at him before she started running so low on time. Now it seemed he only ever saw her when she was asleep or halfway there.

"Didn't take you for a Disney fan, Bjorgman," Ryder said from behind him.

"Not Disney. It's Fox," he muttered, knowing it was useless to rebuke him for peeking yet again.

"My sister works on that set," Ryder said proudly. "She does Anna Arendelle's hair and makeup."

"...Honeymaren is your sister?"

"...what the fuck? I thought I was the nosy one. How the hell do you-- oh my god, is that your Anna? The one you’ve known since high school and you live with and--”

Kristoff stood up suddenly, his chair screeching with the movement. “You can’t tell anyone,” he said, his voice unnaturally harsh. “I’m serious.”

For once, Ryder looked serious. “Jesus, man, no need to go all ‘I’m six-foot-four on me’. We’re friends. I wouldn’t fuck you over like that.”

His heart was pounding. He could trust Ryder-- he wanted to, at least, but it had been a secret for so long, and already even without other people knowing his life had been upended, and if it got any worse he might have to--

“Kristoff. Seriously, man, I’ll forget you said anything.”

Ryder looked wounded somehow as he turned and left. Feeling guilty, Kristoff called after him, “Wait, it’s just--”

Ryder glanced back over his shoulder. “We’ve all got our shit. I’m here to talk if you need.”

He walked away, and Kristoff found himself standing alone in a room silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights and his own breath, harsh and heavy in his chest.

---

Sweat poured down his back as he ran harder than he ever had before, his legs pumping like he was desperately trying to get somewhere that remained forever just out of his grasp. 

He had woken up that morning to an empty bed and a post-it on the fridge with an apology. Meeting with Sam before filming, completely forgot. So sorry xo

She hadn’t even remembered to grab her lunch from the fridge. She probably had forgone breakfast too, and they were in the thick of filming now, doing the huge dance scenes that seemed to take all day and half the night and left her so exhausted sometimes he had to help her undress.

Last night had been one of those nights, and the night before, and this night would be the same, and his lungs were burning, and he’d already gone five miles, sprinting the whole way, and by the end of the day he would be too sore to move, but he still didn’t know what the hell to do and so he just kept running.

---

He was covering the front desk today for the receptionist, whose daughter had just had a baby; normally he wouldn’t have volunteered for something like this, would have wanted to stay doing what he knew best and getting as much experience working with the animals as he could, but as much as he hated talking on the phone to people, he knew he was likely to do more harm than help in the back of the clinic today.

Mercifully, the phones hadn’t been busy so far that morning. He stared, distantly curious, at his hand as it rested on the mousepad, trembling as if he wasn’t sitting perfectly still in a room that was by all standards a little over warm.

A styrofoam cup filled with shitty breakroom coffee appeared just in front of his fingers. “We’ve been taking bets on how long you’ll last out here without falling asleep,” Ryder informed him. “I said another hour, but it was looking iffy for a second there, so I brought you this.”

“Thanks, man.”

He ignored the cup and went back to watching his hand. He didn’t know a lack of sleep could do this. He’d have to keep that in mind next time he was scheduled for a surgery the next morning, would have to find some way to fall asleep in spite of his own mind.

“I, uh, I told my sister I know you. And that I know about it. If that’s okay, I mean,” Ryder said hurriedly. “She’d told me before about hanging out with Anna, and so I just kinda put two and two together and assumed she knew.”

“‘S fine. She’s known the whole time.”

“I, uh, I asked her if she knew why it was a secret. I could have asked you, I know, but, uh...you know how you are with secrets. Figured if I wanted the truth--”

“Just tell me what you want to say. Please,” Kristoff said, taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee in the futile hope it would help.

“Just...that it sucks. Especially with this shit with them saying she’s dating Hans Westergaard. Wish I could tell you ‘I get it’ or something. But I don’t, so I, uh, just...yeah. But I hope the, y’know, engagement ring thing that I saw you looking at that one time...I hope it works out.”

Kristoff ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Me, too.”

---

“They seriously won’t just let you call in sick?”

“I mean, I could, but at this point, I’m in all the scenes that are left, and I can’t just halt production for a whole day just because I’m sore, especially when we’re going to Russia in two weeks, and they’re all depending on me, and I can’t just--”

“You sprained your wrist,” he said flatly. “This is more than just being sore.”

“I know, but we already filmed one scene with it, I got Honeymaren to put some foundation on it so you can’t see the--”

“Anna,” he said, his voice so strained she finally went quiet.

He grabbed one of her makeup wipes off the bathroom counter and came back to where she was perched on the edge of the bed. He took the injured wrist in his hand as carefully as he could and started gently dabbing at the nearly-invisible lines of makeup. She winced, and that crack in his chest widened a little more, deepening further as the green and brown smudges faded into view.

“Jesus,” he muttered, and her fingers curled into a fist as she tried to pull away, embarrassed. “Anna, no, I just-- how did you manage this?”

“There was this stunt with the train scene, and nobody else was going to have a stunt person do it, and so I...I wanted to try and see if I could do it, but I just...I don’t know, Kris, I just fucked it up, I guess.”

He bit back everything he wanted to say; what good what it do, anyway, when everybody else seemed to be encouraging her to push herself this way? Instead, he leaned down and pressed a featherlight kiss to her palm. “Let me get something to put on it.”

When he came back a few minutes later with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel, she had already curled up on her side and fallen asleep, still fully dressed. He sat beside her, lifting her head onto his lap. She still didn’t wake up, and so he carefully raised her injured wrist, holding it gently as he could as he pressed the makeshift cold compress against it. 

He stayed holding her that way, for a long, long time, until the peas had thawed, and then he went to the kitchen and threw them out and leaned over the sink and splashed cold water onto his face, wondering how much one person could bear.

---

Mid-February had finally rolled around with all its gray skies and sappy pink storefront displays. She was leaving in thirty-six hours, and he hadn’t seen her since the night before, because he’d gotten up two hours earlier than normal to come in early so he could leave early and take her out on the date they’d been planning since even before New Year’s, the one to make up for her being gone for the next three weeks and missing their first Valentine’s together.

It wasn’t that he gave a single fuck about the holiday; it was that she did, and so he’d put his heart into planning it all out: they were going to drive outside of the city limits, just enough that anyone who saw them might do a double take but still keep walking, but not so far that they would get back home too late for anything else. He’d found a diner just like one they used to hang out at in high school, one where they could order a giant strawberry milkshake to dip their fries into and spend all the quarters they could find in her car on playing cheesy old love songs from the sixties, one where if they got lucky they could risk holding hands under the table without anyone seeing.

He was already half-dressed after showering off the day’s stress, expecting her to come through the door any minute, when his phone buzzed.

i’m so sorry

He was half-tempted to throw the phone out the window. Maybe if he didn’t read the rest of the message it wouldn’t come true.

He looked again anyway, that now-familiar crack in his chest widening into a full-blown chasm.

i’m so sorry, something happened with the plane tickets and then the schedules changed and so they want us to have a meeting

hans said we can do it at his place (🤮) since we’re all tired of the set

but at least that’s towards where you said we were gonna go 

i’m so so sorry kris can you pick me up from here? ill just ride over with him i guess so i can leave my car here

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, putting the phone aside to bury his face in his hands. How the fuck had they gotten here? This wasn’t supposed to happen; they were supposed to move in together, and it would all be fixed, and he’d see her enough, and it was all going to be fine, but it hadn’t been fine for so long he was starting to wonder whether it would be again. 

His hand, his arm, his whole body felt like it had been filled with lead when he picked up the phone to respond. Of course, baby. Just call me when it’s over.

He finished getting dressed and went to sit on the sofa; figuring at least he could turn on the TV and find some stupid show to drown out his thoughts. His eyes flicked down to the Netflix button on the remote; what the hell, he thought, you already feel like shit, might as well see her during it.

He put her movie on, the stupid Christmas one he’d helped her run lines for, and watched her-but-not live through a dreamy, whirlwind romance, even almost smiled at the scene they had read together on his living room floor all those months ago; he closed his eyes for the kiss at the end, even though he’d seen the movie before with Sven when it first came out, he didn’t know if he could take watching it right now.

He kept watching while the credits rolled, jealous of all the people whose names scrolled by for every second they got to spend with her, not knowing how he coveted her time. It was getting dark; he glanced at his phone, expecting to see that he’d missed something from her, but there was nothing.

He went to the kitchen and cracked open a beer; he wasn’t normally one to drink when he got like this, but tonight-- tonight something felt different, like the air was suddenly running out of oxygen, like the walls of this house they had thought would be full of so much happiness were closing in on him.

He finished it; still nothing. It was late enough now she’d be too hungry to wait through the drive up. Fine; they’d get McDonald’s, or order a pizza, or he’d cook pancakes for her-- he didn’t care, he just wanted to fucking see her before she left, just wanted to be with her and no one else and pretend that it could be that way all the time.

He cracked open another beer. Another hour passed, and the frustration that had been pooling in his gut had started to ferment into worry. She was never quiet this long; something had to have happened, something had to be wrong. 

His jaw was clenched; he released it, thinking it would lighten some of the tension coiled tight in every part of him, but it didn’t. He felt hot and cold and too big and too small all at once, a bundle of aching and anxiety bouncing around the prison of his own skull while he waited to hear something, anything.

Suddenly he could take it no more and stormed out the front door, snatching up his keys and heading for the car. He had it started, had his hand on the gear stick to pull it into reverse when a sudden horrible thought hit him: what if she didn’t want him to pick her up? What if she wanted to spend her last nights here with everyone else, with all the other people like her, the ones who kept pushing her and and demanding so much of her, all in the pursuit of-- of whatever the fuck it was that kept her going like this.

He went back inside and sat at the kitchen table, his eyes never moving from the door.

Another half hour passed, and then suddenly it swung open and she was there, her eyes wild and her hair half-out of a ponytail. “Kris, I’m so fucking sorry,” she gasped out, and he stood, striding over to her.

“I-- I rode with Hans,” she explained, already reaching for him, “and then I got there and realized my phone was gonna die, and I didn’t have my charger with me because it was in the car, and no one else had theirs either, and then the meeting just kept fucking going on and on because everyone was asking so many questions, and then I had to borrow someone’s phone to get an Uber and it turns out that that just complicates things and I-- fuck fuck fuck I’m so sorry, I just--”

“I need to go,” he said shortly, catching the door before it could swing shut behind her and slipping out into the night without saying goodbye.

#.............oop #drtlp #my fics #thank you fericita for helping me with ryder and the ring bit haha

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also i’ve been mulling over the “we’re Living ex machina!!!!” line and like, it still doesn’t make sense Really, but here’s my Afternoon Musings i guess

i’ve only actually seen ex machina once like 3 years ago but as i remember it goes a little something like This: some rando white-collar programmer guy has like, won a contest where the prize is to go hang out for maybe a few days or a week or so with this ~visionary genius~ tech dude played by oscar isaac at oscar isaac tech dude’s off-the-grid reclusive mansion or whatever.......i thiiiink the Protag Programmer won b/c his programming submission was Really Good but also maybe there’s a [randomly selected] element to it, or maybe we Think it was partly random selection but then learn it was actually All “yeah i chose you b/c your coding was the Best,” idk. doesn’t really matter but anyway yeah protag guy gets helicoptered in to the oscar isaac genius bro’s secret mansion 

oscar isaac soon reveals he has this advanced ai android whomst he wants the Protagonist to study / turing test, and the protagonist does that, but during one Conversation Session with this android (who is named ava i think? and designed to Look Like a Woman oo) like the lights turn off and ava-i-think informs the protagonist she’s found a Weakness in the mansion’s security system and hackt it so that the power (and thus the Security / Monitoring Systems) shut down for a minute like this but could feasibly be thought of as a glitch and anyways she’s like yeah i have feelings and thoughts and i want to Not Be Trapped here, ya gotta help me out here buddy, and then yknow ooh the systems come back on, oscar isaac can Observe them again, intrigue.....tl;dr protag and ava keep having these short secret convos and Do plan to break her out, there’s this dramatic moment where oscar isaac (who’s natch been acting weirder and more erratic as the plot unfolds) confronts the protag after the protag has just like, tried to get him blackout smashed by Hanging Out With Him lmfao and oscar isaac is like “ooh i knew you were planning to break her out, i’m gonna stop you guys though haha pwned” but then oh further twist, turns out ava and protag Knew that was the case and were thinking one step ahead and idk but yeah they break her out and oscar isaac dies but ooh further twist!!! ava locks the protag (or well, just Does Not Unlock, As Planned) in some room and leaves the mansion and gets on the Helicopter meant to take the protag back to wherever after the planned end of his stay. and the protag is just stuck there b/c everyone else is dead and presumably he dies as ava gets to exist in the outside world now, idk, we don’t need ex machina 2 where he’s escaped or smthing lmao

and i do NOT get what winston is comparing their situation to lmfao. like, oh rian is like an advanced ai android??? if anything, her being the more like ~true believer in High Finance as a means of socially beneficial effect~ vs winston like, having the supposedly cutthroat and cold Math approach would make Him more of the ~oh no more a robot than a person~ (though i think it’s Ambiguous whether we wanna judge ava as more Scary Bad or Sympathetic).........you can’t even really make the connection that “oh no we’re being deliberately Replaced!!” b/c if winston is [protag programmer rando] and rian is [ava] and wendy is, i guess oscar isaac then, uhhhh oscar isaac most definitely did Not intend to ~replace~ the protag with ava, he very much wanted her trapped in his mansion still........and the protagonist Only got “replaced” by ava in the sense that she took his place on the helicopter out of the reclusive secret mansion. i really doubt she planned to, or would even be able to, like take over his identity/life beyond that.....certainly not his job lol like, coworkers are gonna notice you’re a different person, there was no implication the androids can like oh shapeshift their appearance or whatever, and no implications about what ava even intended to do in the Outside World which is kind of bemusing b/c like, what of the Practical Questions of being an android and needing whatever Fuel Source a robot does, idk that might’ve been addressed or smthing like “oh yeah they can just Eat,” also she clearly does not Trust People considering her only company was evil oscar isaac creator and she wasn’t interested in bringing the protag along, plus yknow the fact that she Did deliberately manipulate the protag into thinking that she wanted to escape into the world With him........but not like i guess she has any choice for any other world to escape into but the one with all the people where she pretends to be an organic human

like there is just NO point of comparison where these situations line up unless you get soooooooo like broad strokes about ex machina that you’d do better to compare your experience to Anything else lmao. like, does winston think she’s some like, ideal advanced version of him?? like you might consider a crafted AI android to be?? i don’t know but i mean i think we have a more feasible explanation for why he’s so Insistent about this totally being Ex Machina, if only b/c as a straightforward comparison i swear to god it doesn’t work lmfao None of these points line up at all with any significance that’s worth insisting on

given that winston’s Apparently Canonically meant to be crushing on rian, and we have his example of ribbing her by calling her “gal gadot’s quirky sister” which is like, okay so the dunk is “you look similar to this famous a-lister who everyone thinks is pretty” and “also you’re quirky, boom” like, i think that could easily be meant as like, a Tell that winston already ~likes~ her.............aaaand it’s also somewhat ~ambiguous~ but i mean i think it’s safe to say that in Ex Machina you may understand the protag as having Fallen For the ai android lady. so maybe we can Understand this invocation of ex machina as being like “ooh person meant to replace me is Attractive but ultimately i think this Overall Situation is a bad thing i shouldn’t feel this way i resent it” like, a bit of a Reach, but honestly it’s way more of a reach to think about applying anything else about this scenario to ex machina, so i could v much believe that the thought that went behind writing this is once again, like, “okay winston’s invoking one thing on the surface level here, but simultaneously he’s already (inadvertently probably) acknowledging like oh also i have a crush on her already”

between this episode seeming to be Setup and the [winston has a Canon crush] and the fact that it probably seems like They Will Fuck A Nonzero Number Of Times or Make Out At Least But It’s Billions So, Might Get A Humorous Cut To [Postcoital] Or A Scene Where They Arrive At Work Together Short Of Breath With Messy Hair  And Hickies And Winston’s Got A Hoodie W/ “Property Of Rian” On It Until He Goes "Oh Shit Woops” And Hands It To Her And She’s Like “Oh Btw You Forgot Your Glasses.....Uh You Left Them Here On Your Desk Yesterday I Mean Of Course” And Hands Them To Him And An Unnamed Character Stands Up And Asks “Daily Poll: Who Had Sex With A Coworker Last Night” And Rian And Winston Raise Their Hands Before Going “Oh Wait” And Lowering Them With A Shake Of The Head And A Nervous Cough and i’m exaggerating but you know, the equivalent of the billions writing saying “wwinnnk” at us. i am fine with them having an unsolemn like, quasi-rivals-to-lovers (or -And-lovers) dynamic, even with it being a bit messy in like, still an overall Fun way, where yknow it doesn’t have to be peak epic romance cuz a) that’s just Always true and yet it can still be overall an okay thing even if they don’t quite get it together / mostly just trade sparks and sometimes hook up and b) idk seems like mayybe rian’s character isn’t meant to go beyond this season, so, an inherent limit there if true

i’m like Apologetic for being like “already i like their dynamic even as Romantique and it’s kinda cute and fun and i’m willing to continue to be engaged w/ this as long as the writing doesn’t completely fuck it up” lmao like, i guess i Did inadvertently give myself time to prepare for this exact eventuality b/c of wondering if this exact character would have A Thing w/ winston whenever she showed up and even if i was like “haha the character could show up Anywhere and do Anything and what are the odds, right” i was also like “hmm but i’m going to really think about it though” like, as always, didn’t think i was cassandraing that hard, but truly did do it 4x03 style where everyone else can be like “you never [made the text post or gave any indication you were thinking about “what if whoever she plays and winston have some kind of romance thing going on”]” and i can go “i only thought it but didn’t say it....doesn’t count” but well. i did think it lmao and why would i make it up.......sorry i had such a head start on Getting More Used To This Notion.......some crimes can never be forgiven.meme.......

anyways natch “intense horrible passionate” seems a little foreboding but maybe she was talking about it relative to [any Normal show] rather than the standards we’re used to on billions, where this was all but a Meet Cute, and a kind of quasi coworker rivalry where nobody’s taking it *that* deeply seriously and they also seem to mutually like each other by the end of 5x05 already so how not-amicable can it get. and re: Intense like, maybe the writing in future episodes will totally upend this, but i’d say rian and winston in 5x05, even when “clashing,” was like damn near laidback and chill. neither of them seem at all that pressed, but maybe even a sorta-playful Friendly Rivalry is more “intense” than, say, a dynamic that involves no rivalry at all. imo “Passionate” is just like, okay, so they’ll fuck or at least make out? sure. not sure what to make of “horrible” lmfao maybe again it’s addressing like “this is a lil messy and they’re kinda rivals!!!” like, certainly not an ideal start, except by billions standards it IS weirdly great. rian seeming good-naturedly amused by winston is something we didn’t get from his longtime-coworkers until like, now, sort of, and still not to the degree that anyone has smiled at him as many times as rian did in like that course of [1 min long First Scene Together] wherein also winston always gets off to a way worse start with people lmao............like everything about this seems Way Better And More Dialed Back And Grounded than usual, actually. but it’s that like, point of reference of “what’s Usual for winston and, more broadly, Billions” that maybe explains this weirdly strong language when all in 5x05 seemed chill actually

anyways like i said Sorry For Already Liking Rian/Winston This Much with my head start and all where like, i’m even tentatively looking forward to seeing where this goes, by “tentative” i also mean going [”i’ll kill you” the office.jpg] at billions where i am fully aware that maybe where this goes *is* a mess and not in like, just kind of a fun, non-melodramatic, not-treated-like-a-total-joke-but-also-not-that-big-a-deal way, where 5x05 could seem like Those Halcyon Days b/c everything from here out just devolves into an unappealing disaster.......but this is an unexpectedly solid start imo and like. even if this doesn’t become like this epic romance where they officially date and if rian does eventually depart the show by the end of the season, it can still just be Enjoyable and Fun for the characters and, god forbid, the viewers, where like, you don’t have to demand we be desperately invested with our entire life in this deadly serious heartwrenching epic romance, they can just kind of mess around and enjoy having a mutual attraction w/ this mathy rivalry and etc and it’s neither a tragedy of “the greatest love story of all time torn asunder” Or, truly god forbid,” this is a Whole Mess In A Bad Way b/c winston’s involved and ugh who could Really like him, being at all romantically entangled is an embarrassing mistake surely, ew cringe we hate him............like, cautiously optimistic in how like i always say that a Romantic Arc is just an easy/efficient way to develop both characters and it could certainly humanize winston an ounce in a show that treats him more like a walking algorithmic plot device and the thoughts of any viewers but us are limited to “winston annoying” basically........the show doesn’t seem to treat rian as a joke, so it seems possible that their mutual Romance in whatever way it unfolds could also be Not A Joke, which means winston’s part in it isn’t a joke, so that’s Some aspect of him for people to take seriously, for once..........like, the way his apparently-already-official crush played out in 5x05 *was* funny but it also didn’t seem like oh it’s a joke b/c his feelings are a total joke......it might seem that way if this *was* totally unrequited and going nowhere, but i somewhat get the sense that the interest is mutual even by the end of the ep, that didn’t strike me as a “shove off, it could Never Happen” shutdown from rian there, just like, hold off on that for rn maybe cue to rein it in a little, not just yet........anyways lmao i’m like “oh yeah i started this post about the baffling ex machina thing” but yeah the point is i think so far it’s pretty solid and i like it and am cautiously but [relative-to-billions level of Hopeful] about whatever developments we’re surely gonna get b/c it def sounds like this has Not ended with 5x05, but seriously @ billions i swear to god. yes so far the approach to winston’s crush here and even their unfolding mutual dynamique and dare i say, romantic interest, is being handled with an encouraging level of “this is Humorous but the characters / their feelings are not what’s being treated as A Total Joke or anything,” but who knows what will come next, this is billions and you can’t predict anything. fingers crossed about it all, though

#winston billions #i'm enjoying what we have so far anyways While I Can #still billions-grade Hopeful that it will continue to be enjoyable....... #i can imagine that things could continue to unfold in a fairly cute & fun way. i am already somewhat Doing So b/c i like them enough already #have enough gentle optimism that i absolutely can be let down by next week's developments...........We Shall See #seriously just tl;dr i'm not the least bit sure what the ex machina thing means. tentative ''it's as much a Clue that winston already kinda #is crushing as much as idk.....meaning anything else at all'' lmao.........like okay whatever it's billions just roll w/ the weird refs #like the seeming nascar-or-whatever related one whomever taylor was talking about tony womsthever from 2005?? i didnt research too much into #that like i don't need to know cuz idc and Why Would They.....maybe it's like wendy making the unnecessary metallica reference 4 sec later #where everyone's just automatically in [unnecessary references] mode......... #riawin

[vincess-princess]

ex malo bonum

Chapter 3.

Word count: 3761 Warnings: self-harm tendencies, forced alcohol consumption (idk really how else to tag this), non-con attempt, blood, needles mention

Vince stared at the cracked ceiling.

The ceiling stared back, its cracks and spots like wrinkles and blemishes on an old face. Some more staring, and Vince would probably start seeing eyes.

His home – former home – was supposed to be somewhere above the ceiling. Somewhere up in the sky. No one knew for sure where it was, and now that Vince thought about it, he never knew where exactly it was located as well. It was just there, in him and far from him at the same time, but always at the arm’s length, always there when Vince needed it.

No. No, it wasn’t. For him, it had been there. It remained there still, yet out of Vince’s reach. Its calming, encouraging presence, constantly in the back of his mind before, was no longer there. It got lost among all those new thoughts and feelings, all products of his vessel’s weird, flawed human nature, but now also strangely personal to him too. In search of that presence, Vince delved deep into his mind, where he had never been before, and didn’t find anything.

Or rather, he did. Something he had never seen before; something so foreign and at the same time so his.

Vince yanked himself back to the reality, farther from those somethings. But having once seen them, he couldn’t pretend they weren’t there anymore.

So he decided to stare at the ceiling and focus on the pain in his shoulder. Pain was easy to understand; safe, in a way. Pain was punishing, and punishment was freeing. It was something Jesus had gone through. Maybe Vince was the next Jesus, and his cross was this blood-soaked bed, and his nails were humiliation and manhandling by those demons.

An angel would never have such a thought, something whispered to him faintly, bringing him back to reality. An angel, a true angel, would strive to become like Him, but never compare themselves to Him, because He is unreachable.

Vince shivered as though a trickle of cold, pure fear ran down his spine. He pressed his face into the pillow, trying to chafe half-healed scratches on his face, to wring more pain out of them, to have something else to focus on.

It only made matters worse. His pain mixed with his desperation, fear and unanswered questions, turning into delirium so dark, so deep Vince drowned in it, the reality, like sunlight in the water, was blacked out. He didn’t hear the door creaking, letting in a night visitor, he didn’t see his slim frame looming over the bed, and only when a hand grasped his shoulder and shook him roughly, his mind reluctantly rose to the surface.

Vince’s heart was racing, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, but relief washed over him once he saw that cracked ceiling again. Even if that was Nikki, even if he had come to do what he promised to do to him, it was still better than down there, in the dark. Vince squinted, trying to discern the visitor's face in the faint light from the street. He wouldn’t be able to tell apart Nikki and Tommy, who resembled each other like brothers, if not for the hair: Tommy’s bushy and curly, Nikki’s straight and thick.

The shadow was gangly, and the hair framing his face was messy and wavy. Tommy.

"Asleep, blondie?" Tommy confirmed Vince’s guess a second later and knelt beside the bed. He had something in his hand, but Vince didn't catch a glimpse of it.

"You know we don't sleep," Vince replied indifferently, doing his best to keep the quiver away from his voice, and after a quick glance at Tommy, moved his gaze back to the ceiling.

"Well, I dunno. You could have passed out."

Vince didn't answer. He shouldn't have done it the first time as well, but the question was so normal, so casual that for a second he forgot who was asking.

"Huh, too proud to talk to us, right?" Tommy said light-heartedly. "That's not for long." He reached up to Vince's handcuffed wrists and freed one of them, leaving his other wrist chained to the headboard.

"What are you doing?" he couldn’t help asking. Be that Nikki, he would have kept silent throughout the whole process, be that whatever had come to his perverted mind. But this wasn't Nikki.

“Fixing Nikki’s bullshit," Tommy replied shortly and reached to unbutton Vince's shirt.

That was when Vince, already baffled, couldn’t remain still. He pushed Tommy away with his free arm and rolled to the other side of the bed. He didn’t know how he had expected Tommy to react. Get angry, maybe. Drag him back. Hit him. Enchain his hand back to the headboard. There were so many options.

Tommy didn’t pick any of them. Instead, he burst into laughter. He did drag him back by his hurt arm then, making Vince hiss in pain. And kept laughing. The entire time.

"You should have seen your face. You looked so frightened,” the demon explained once his laughter subdued. Vince was pretty sure he still had fear written across his face, made worse by Tommy’s following words.

“Lie still and it won't hurt as much," he promised, unbuttoning the last button on his shirt and pulling it down Vince’s torso. Seeing Vince’s eyes widen, he chuckled. "What, are you really that afraid of losing your virginity? It's not even a real thing. Just a social construct."

With increasing desperation Vince watched as Tommy climbed onto the bed and straddled his torso, pinning his injured arm to the mattress. For a couple of seconds he enjoyed the mix of fear and disgust on Vince’s face before finally announcing: "Relax. I ain't gonna fuck you. Right now, at least. Maybe later, after I'm finished with that," he poked Vince's shoulder right above the cut.

Vince blinked in confusion, completely taken aback. He had already been mentally preparing for humiliation and pain, the only things he expected from those demons. Had expected.

“Why would you do that?”

Tommy ignored his question. “Jeez,” he grinned at the sight of Vince wincing from hearing this word so distorted, “you’ve got a lot of blood in here.” He bent forward to take a closer look at the cut. His long fluffy hair tickled Vince’s nose and got covered in blood that was all over his shoulder. “Do you even have any left?”

“Does it matter?” Vince murmured, getting increasingly uncomfortable under Tommy’s fixed, serious stare that absolutely didn’t match his nonchalant tone.

“It fucking does!” Tommy flared up, making Vince flinch. He didn’t expect him to sound so serious; he didn’t expect him to even be capable of acting that way. “You think, immortality and shit, yeah? Threw myself off a building, woke up unharmed, now I can do whatever the fuck I want? Well, buddy, it ain’t gonna work like that anymore. Bodies are fragile. They break. And you won’t get a new one any time soon, if ever. You gotta be careful with yours from now on.”

“But can’t demons possess human bodies?”

“Yeah, they can. Those like Mick. I ain’t Mick, you ain’t Mick, and it’s gonna take us half a millennium at best to even try to compare ourselves to Mick. Didn’t you feel it? He’s… he’s…” Tommy trailed off. “Well, you get it.”

Vince nodded automatically, remembering the shudder that ran down his spine when he first looked in those clear blue eyes. He did get it.

“Well, back to business,” after a second of silence Tommy dropped onto the bed the things he was holding in his hand. They turned out to be a needle, a reel of black thread and a bottle of something with a very distinct smell. “I am no doctor, so it’s probably gonna be painful and sloppy. No, it’s definitely gonna be painful and sloppy. Sorry to spoil such a great vessel. Or not sorry.” He pinched Vince’s cheek, opened the bottle and took a gulp out of it.

“Here, have some.” Despite Vince’s frantic headshaking, Tommy pushed the bottle between his lips, and Vince, afraid of getting his teeth knocked out, gave in. Tommy upended the bottle, and acold, burning liquid went down Vince’s throat, choking him and sending him into a fit of coughing. Tommy watched him with such a smug grin, he was lucky to be sitting on Vince’s free hand.

“Whiskey,” he patted the bottle lovingly. “Another great invention of humankind, after sex and rock n’ roll. Or, rather, the reason for them.”

“Tastes like shit.” Vince spat out the remains of the drink, aiming at Tommy, but missing, and most of it ended up on his own chin. Tommy snickered and wiped it with his hand.

“That’s because it’s your first time drinkin’. You’ll get used to it.” Tommy spent good five minutes threading a needle and biting his lips in frustration when the thread didn’t want to go through the eye of the needle. Having finally done it through a great effort, he dipped the needle together with the thread into the remains of whiskey. “Also a good antiseptic.”

“Good what?”

Tommy looked at him in confusion for a second before smiling wide, realization on his face. “Damn, I forgot you’re fresh out of Heaven. Alcohol’s good not only for drinking but also for killing bacteria in your wounds so that the inflammation won’t spread to other parts of your body. If not treated, it can actually kill you.” Seeing Vince’s eyes widen, he burst into laughter. “Trashy, right? The cost for occupying a human vessel. They are a pain in the ass, so fragile and prone to illnesses. Even those occupied by us.” Tommy talked so quickly Vince couldn’t even get a word in edgeways. Great, just great, he thought grimly, now he would have to look after this sack of flesh as well. As though he didn’t have other problems in need of an urgent solution.

Tommy raised the needle up to his level, observed it critically and decided it was ready to use.

“Alright, now lie still. It’s gonna hurt anyway but even more, if you twitch.”

“Very reassuring,” Vince muttered, closing his eyes and resting his head against the pillow. At the mere thought of receiving more pain his body tensed up, and Vince knew that this way it was going to hurt even more. Still, he couldn’t relax.

Instead, he heard a chuckle. “Didn’t know anyone from up there could have a sense of humor.”

Then finally came the pain. Vince winced and breathed shallowly, trying not to make a sound, not to show how he was hurting,

Tommy was definitely no good at sewing. The skin on Vince’s shoulder was already bloody and swollen, and the whole process felt like sticking needles right into the wound. Vince hissed and screwed up his eyes so hard he could see colorful circles, breathing shallowly and biting his lips until they bled. It helped, though. He managed to hold back tears, for now, he concentrated on the lump in his throat so strongly the pain from the needle shifted to the back of his mind, still there, but definitely not as acute as before. Don’t cry, don’t cry, a voice in his hand kept repeating, with dull, unhuman intonations. Don’t lose your composure, it kept saying, and it sounded reasonable.

Vince pressed his lips together tightly, not letting out a single sob, a single tear. He wasn’t going to show Tommy how bad it was hurting, because hurting meant weakness, and weakness meant humiliation.

But God, was it hard.

The cut was narrow but deep, going through almost his entire shoulder. His blood on the needle was making it harder for Tommy to hold it, and it constantly slipped out of his fingers, sometimes while it was still in Vince’s skin. Vince never said a word, just bit down onto his lower lip, again and again, his saliva metallic-flavored.

“So quiet,” Tommy murmured upon pulling out the needle from Vince’s flesh once again. His hand slipped, and the needle sank even deeper in the wound. Vince held down a groan. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t hurt, I know it does. Stop that pretense, for fuck’s sake.”

“What do you want me to do, cry? Throw a fit?” With effort, he almost – almost – managed to sound calm, but the slight quivering of his voice had managed to leak through his already battered facade.

“No, but there’s absolutely no point in holding your emotions in some situations. For example, when you get a wound sewed up with no painkillers whatsoever,” Tommy huffed. “Listen, I couldn’t care less, play a tough one if you want. Just remember that’s not gonna work with Nikki.”

“What do you mean?” Something inside Vince’s chest froze in fear. He knew already what Tommy meant, but there was still a little bit of maybe I am wrong-

“I meant exactly what I said,” Tommy cut off, in a matter of seconds shifting from carelessness to seriousness and completely demolishing Vince’s last bit of hope. He poked Vince’s chest with so much force his finger left a red trace on the skin. “You know he will come here because he always keeps his promises, and when he does come, your stubbornness will only make it worse for you. He wants to get a certain reaction out of you, and if he doesn’t, he will do literally anything, and I mean anything, to get it. You will get out of it with less damage if you just play along.”

During Tommy’s short but convincing speech the silence of the room felt choking. A cold lump in Vince’s stomach grew twice as huge. If even a demon, an evil and wicked creature, tried to warn him about another demon - it was especially serious.

But Vince’s anger, flaring up in his chest, bright, fast and burning, drowned out this very reasonable thought. Somewhere in the back of his mind Vince was surprised at how easy it had risen, powerful and all-consuming.

“If he thinks he can make me do whatever he wants, he is fucking wrong,” Vince hissed. “Did he send you to prepare the ground? To scare me into obedience? Well, tell him he’s gotta put in a real effort to get what he wants!”

His last word was muffled by Tommy’s hand on his mouth.

“Be quiet, idiot!” he whispered, glancing cautiously onto the door. Vince tried to bite him in protest, but Tommy didn’t even let him open his mouth. “You’re gonna wake everyone up!”

Vince tried to shake his hand off, but it stayed firmly on his mouth, pressing his head deep into the pillow. He struggled some more, but his every movement was sending a jab of pain through his shoulder where the needle was still staying. The stitch loosened, and Vince could feel hot drops of blood oozing from the cut.

So after a few more weak jerks, he surrendered, breathing heavily, vision blurred with tears that he tried so hard to hold back and failed.

“Fucking dumbass,” Tommy sighed, examining the stitch. “Ruined all the hard work. I can finish it, but it won’t be half as effective.”

Just do the thing and piss off, Vince wanted to say. He felt so exhausted as though he had run a mile.

“Finish,” he managed to get out. Tommy pulled at the thread, tightening the stitch and eliciting a curse out of Vince, and resumed his work.

Now that Nikki’s name came up in the conversation, Vince’s mind shifted onto him. He was stabbed too, and even deeper than Vince, but he couldn’t remember it doing him any actual harm. When they had arrived to this apartment, his bleeding had already stopped. Vince’s bleeding, on the other hand, had been going on for the rest of the day and half a night. What the?..

“Nikki is a powerful demon,” Tommy had to explain hesitantly when Vince demanded the answer. “Not as powerful as Mick, of course, but definitely not of the weaker kind. He’s been around for a good century longer than me. Still ain’t got no brains, though,” he added with unexpected fondness.

“And you?” Vince asked quickly and regretted it at the very same moment. Tommy’s face, so lively and dynamic before, as though turned into a mask.

“What me?” he said, incomprehension in his voice too perfect to be genuine.

“How long have you been around?”

“How curious you are,” Tommy’s lips were still curved into a smile, but his eyes shifted from cheerful hazel to burnt wood. “Curiosity killed the cat, y’know.”

“What?” Vince blinked in confusion. What did this have to do with a cat? “Really? How?”

Tommy looked at him blankly for a second and then burst into laughter. This time it was sincere.

“Christ, I always forget you don’t know shit about Earth,” he said once he’d calmed down. “You’re gonna be so much fun. That’s just a local saying. Means that you have to pay a price for information. Especially that personal.” He leaned forward, so close to Vince their noses almost touched, looming over him. Vince later would swear he could smell burning wood for a second. “Are you ready to pay the price, blondie?”

“No,” Vince said maybe too quickly, already cursing his curiosity. “Forget it.” Tommy’s pupils were so dilated they took up almost his entire irises. His gaze was making Vince uneasy, and his heart was beating so fast he was sure Tommy could hear it too. When Vince tried to turn his head to avoid looking at those eyes anymore, Tommy grabbed his chin with his fingers, forcing him to stay still. Just like Nikki, Vince realized, a cold shiver running down his spine. Friendlier on the outside, but inside just as dark.

“I’m already done with this,” Tommy said, observing the stitch critically, and bit the rest of the thread off. “And I think I deserve an award.”

That was the last straw.

“That’s what you came for in the first place, right? Could have just gone for it right then and not play a good one,” Vince spit out. He had enough of being scared; now all his fear turned into anger, bitter, resentful anger. Just when he started to lose caution, to relax a little, to dampen his defense and believe not all demons were alike… Fucking asshole. Assholes, all of them. Shouldn’t have answered him the first time.

“Well, mostly,” Tommy grinned, putting away the needle and the reel and reaching for the bottle. “Wanna?”

“Fuck off.”

“All right, more for me,” Tommy downed the rest in one huge gulp. “Imagine how Nikki’s gonna be pissed when he learns he’s not the first,” he chuckled, baring his teeth in a wide smile, a smile that wilted slightly when he met Vince’s gaze. A little more of that, Vince thought with grim satisfaction, and he would learn to burn holes in human skin with his eyes.

Tommy leaned to the side of the bed to put the bottle under the bed and had to let go of Vince’s hand. When he sat up, Vince’s fist collided with his cheekbone. Tommy gasped and flinched back, and Vince couldn’t hold back a sneer.

The injured hand wasn’t capable of anything serious, though. It took Tommy mere few seconds to get over the punch and straighten up. A violent wave of pain swept through Vince’s entire arm, making him hiss in pain and drop his hand weakly onto the bed. He was defenseless - again.

Vince closed his eyes, expecting a response. A punch or, at the very least, a slap on the face. That was what Nikki would do. That was what Vince himself, if they swapped bodies, would do.

Tommy started laughing.

“Oh wow, you aggressive little shit! Did you just go round punching other angels in Heaven like that? Was that why they kicked you out?”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Vince reminded coldly, which launched Tommy into another fit of laughter so strong he almost fell off the bed.

“No, you’re totally a lot of fun,” Tommy claimed once he calmed down enough to be able to speak. “Or maybe you’re trying to get me distracted till everyone wakes up? Huh, blondie, this ain’t gonna work. I mean, yeah, talking to you all night would be pretty cool, but, y’know, a man’s got his needs, and Nikki’s been pretty moody lately.”

Vince was hardly surprised. To believe that the demons who were constantly talking about it hadn’t done it with each other before was to be an utter and complete idiot.

What was the name for it besides hooking-up, by the way?

Resigned, Vince watched as Tommy settled between his thighs, unzipped his pants and pulled them down to his knees. Although the thin fabric hardly provided any protection, its absence brought a feeling of vulnerability so strong Vince couldn’t handle looking at Tommy and stared at the door instead.

“C’mon, that’s only scary until you get down to it,” Tommy said almost sheepishly. “Humans wouldn’t obsess over sex so much if it wasn’t enjoyable.”

I’m no human, Vince wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat.

Tommy’s hands roamed around his hips and legs, then disappeared. Vince heard the zipper getting undone.

And then – footsteps behind the door.

Tommy jumped up, his eyes darting at the door, and Vince caught a glimpse of pure terror on his face before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. The very next moment the door opened, and Mick stepped inside.

“Aha,” he said only, quickly looking over Vince, his sloppily stitched shoulder, pants crumpled at the knees, the empty whiskey bottle sticking out from under the bed. Vince’s cheeks grew strangely hot, and he hopelessly reached out to pull up his pants – hopelessly, because they were out of his reach, but remaining like this, so open and defenseless under Mick’s piercing gaze, was somehow way worse.

When Mick stepped towards the bed, Vince’s hand dropped, and the urge to close his eyes, to escape this whole situation in the only way available was so strong he later wondered what had kept them open after all. Stubbornness, maybe. Or spite. Or both.

Mick stretched out his hand and hitched up Vince’s pants until he could freely reach them. Then he turned around and left the room. Physically, because contempt – or, far worse, pity, - in his icy gaze haunted Vince for the rest of the night.

#motley crue fanfiction #motley crue #tommy lee #vince neil #mick mars #ex malo bonum #tw: blood #tw: attempted non-con #tw: alcohol #tw: needles #tw: self-harm tendencies #ok dudes here it is #a month later #and im afraid i'm not gonna edit the next one this month #because i have midterms #i hope you like it #because in comparison to the next chapter this one is pure fluff and rainbows #the next oneis also 5k long so yeah #i'm afraid you'll have to wait a little #sorry :( #pls tell me what you think of it #i feed off readers' feedback #i hope i tagged everything that might cause someone discomfort #but if i missed something don't be shy to tell me and i'll fix it :)

[phonaesthemes]

a list of asks

@padawanyugi tagged me in this, but Tumblr decided to eat any notification that I got tagged, so I’m glad I saw it on my dash because I like filling these things out. Thanks for tagging me! I may have typed A Lot.

Favorites: What types of books do you enjoy? Tell about what you’ve read recently (Or maybe about a book you hated recently!)I like spec-fic and sci-fi, although less “hard” science fiction, and I also enjoy fantasy. I read a lot of YA even though I’m in my 30s just because it seems easy to find a story I want to read and I’m not usually in the mood for dense prose.

I’ve been rereading the Wheel of Time series since it’s getting an Amazon TV show; it was my first non-LOTR fantasy series and I love it to death, warts and all, although I love joking about the weak points with other people who’ve read it. I think the last other thing I read was A Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue, which was a queer YA historical fiction, and it was a lot of fun. I wish I’d had access to all these queer stories when I was an actual teenager, but better late than never.

What types of music do you like to listen to? Share five songs from your music library. I really do like a bit of everything, although I gravitate towards certain genres more often depending on the season or time of day, so I’m going to cheat and pick 5 per season. Summer for me is lots of peppy pop (pride playlists!), punk and rock and punk-adjacent stuff, just upbeat stuff in general. -Weekender, by The Royal They -Break My Heart, by Dua Lipa -Toutes les femmes savent danser, by Loud -Ruby Soho, by Rancid -Womanarchist, by Bad Cop, Bad Cop

In the fall, my inner goth kid craves darkwave, goth rock, dramatic folk, roots rock, and also anything that reminds me of Halloween. -Iuka, by the Secret Sisters -Bela Lugosi’s Dead, by Bauhaus -How’s It Gonna End, by Tom Waits -Under the Milky Way, by The Church -I Put a Spell on You, by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins I could go on about the Christmas music I like at length (Boney M’s Christmas album slaps, ngl) but I’ll just skip that and say that I listen to more classical and piano pieces in the winter. I’m terrible at remembering names, so artists only: -Ludovico Einaudi -Chopin -Debussy -Saint-Saëns -Dvořák And in spring I’m usually just depressed af and listen to whatever. -FML, by K.Flay -Weird Part of the Night, by Louis Cole -Juodaan Viinaa, by Korpiklaani -P.O.H.U.I., by Carla’s Dreams -Marryuna, by Baker Boy

Do you have a show or movie that you can just put on anytime and it’s your comfort? Definitely Star Trek. I’ve rewatched the various iterations (except TOS) so many times. Also Mean Girls and Bring It On, idk why.

Do you have a favorite dessert? Tiramisu or creme brulée! Or macarons. I don’t eat dessert really unless I’m at a restaurant.

Do you have a favorite cold drink? Sparkling water, hands down.

Do you have a favorite game? The hours I have put into the SIms in my lifetime is probably shameful, although I haven’t played in a while. Don’t Starve is another contender for hours played, but I am also really fond everything by Amanita Design

Do you have a favorite part of your self care/beauty/health routine? I haven’t been doing it much lately since I’ve been dealing with some uncertain health issues with my joints (actually have a rheumatologist appointment later today), but savasana after a long yoga workout is borderline ecstasy.

Do you have a favorite type of take-out food? Indian for sure.

What’s your favorite type of exercise/physical activity? I have a love-hate relationship with running. I don’t actually love it but I love how I feel after. I really enjoy yoga. I love playing in the water at the beach, bodyboarding and swimming.

Pick between: (you choose the context)

Cook or bake? (I love cooking A Lot)

Space or ocean? (Hard to pick, but I grew up by the ocean and it’s 100% my happy place)

Chocolate or vanilla?

City or suburb or rural? (I grew up in an isolated rural village and I miss the quiet and the slower pace of life, but I do not miss the lack of amenities and opportunities, or the smalltown gossip. I also don’t drive bc of epilepsy, so I’m fucked as far as transport in rural settings.)

Past or future?

Shower in the morning or evening?

Mac/Apple or PC/Android? (Linux in general!)

Sing or dance?  (I don’t have an amazing voice but I can carry a tune without it being painful, and I love singing along with songs.)

Get up early or sleep in? (I actually love sleeping in but with two kids, early morning is my only time to myself, so I wake up before 6 most days AGGH.)

Shoes, socks, or bare feet? (Hate socks. I’m barefoot at home all year round.)

Marker, crayon, or pencil? Pen!

Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate? (Coffee in the morning, tea later on.)

Random questions:

Have you ever had any pets? (Had dogs and a cat as a kid, and as an adult I’ve had betta fish and cats, and I have a cat currently.)

What is your academic background/job field? I did my undergrad in linguistics, and I am currently a stay-at-home dad lol. I do freelance editing and transcription on the side. I don’t think I’ll ever work in my field bc I really don’t have the energy to go to grad school.

What’s something random that you’re into (even if you aren’t good at it)? I signed up for a Cape Breton step dancing class in university and I loved it.

Are you good at putting away your clean laundry right away? It depends on the day, but generally yes. Mine and everyone else’s. When I lived alone? Absolutely not.

What’s one of your pet peeves? Someone trying to have a conversation with me when they have the radio or TV on. I can’t follow what you’re saying if someone else is speaking! I hate having that stuff on as background noise in general.

What’s something you’re pretty good at? I’m a great cook.

What’s the most recent nice thing you bought for yourself? A new conditioner ig? lol

Can you sew? I can mend a small tear or sew on a button, but it’s been years since I did more than that.

What’s a chore you hate (or a chore you enjoy)? I hate vacuuming so much. So much. Maybe if I had a better vaccuum cleaner I wouldn’t mind it, but I just feel like I’m fighting with the stupid thing, getting caught up on its own cords, caught on furniture, can’t quiiiite reach a spot... HATE IT. I like shoveling snow sometimes, though.

Tell us a fun fact about yourself. I am 20 years older than my youngest sibling, and five minutes younger than my “oldest” sibling.

Never have I ever... Gone fishing, even though I’m from a fishing community.

What extracurriculars did/do you do in school? In high school, I played trumpet in band until the band got dissolved from lack of funding. I played soccer one year, was in a play another year. We had an art club for like a semester that I was in. In university the first time round, I did step dancing and intramural hide and seek  Second time around, I was in the linguistics club to help with assignments. (We were very much encouraged to work in pairs or groups for a lot of different classes. The only thing was that you did need to list your group members on the assignment so the prof knew who you worked with. My first morphology class in particular, we had a whole homework club where a huge portion of the class got together to work through assignments and help each other understand, and the prof would quite often show up. </tangent>

Deeper questions:

How’s your quarantine/last few months been? The cabin fever was really bad before the weather warmed up. I struggle with seasonal depression every spring, and it’s gotten much worse since we moved to Edmonton because of how long the winters are. (Snow from September to May/June? Fucccck.) It’s frankly horrifying to look at what’s going on in the US, but even though we have far fewer cases here, I’m really anxious that we’ll see another wave soon. Otherwise, I think I’ve adjusted. Home-schooling, hand-sanitizing, social distancing, masks...All feels kind of normal now, which should maybe concern me.

What do you think of human nature/society/etc.? I am like the least philosophical person you will meet so I don’t think I really have many thoughts.

What’s something you are insecure about? Writing my L2 if a native speaker is gonna read it.

What do you think is the meaning of life/reason that humans exist in the universe? I don’t think there is one, and that doesn’t bother me.

Do you think you’re better (whatever that means to you) than you used to be? Definitely. My adolescence and early adulthood was rough. I was dealing with a lot of trauma, untreated bipolar disorder, and I self-harmed for a very long time. I could not imagine making it to 30, let alone being stable and happy. I actively avoided thinking about the future because it made me spiral. But I was lucky enough to get help, consistent help from a doctor I clicked with, and it made a world of difference. I think younger me would be disappointed at how mundane my life is, but I’m thrilled to be boring because boring means no life-upending mood episodes. I have a happy partnership and two delightful kids and I couldn’t ask for more.

What are your thoughts on religion? I’m not religious and my own experience being raised in the Catholic church was frankly traumatic, but I know that it’s a source of comfort and community for many others and I think that’s awesome for them.

Do you think that there are aliens out there? I think so, although I think that we may not even know what other kinds of life to look for and may not recognize it even if we find it.

What’s something that’s been on your mind recently? We’re moving cross-country in less than a month (driving, no less, nearly 5000 km) and I still have so much to do to get ready aosjdoajdoasijdoaijsd

#personal #long post #in which i ramble about myself a great deal #@padawanyugi

[bigskydreaming]

So this is...its a thing. Let’s go with that. I’ve been calling around LA for pretty much all of last week, going through every oral surgeon I can find to see if they do the surgery I need and what their schedules are like, how soon I could get into surgery, etc, and also I’ve been asking literally everyone I know if they know of anyone, have a referral, etc. Even reached out to this old client of mine from back when I was doing sex work, years and years ago, to see if he knew anyone in LA with connections at Cedars Sinai or another hospital, like, to see if they could even just check with their hospital to see what visiting doctors specialize in that kinda thing. Keeping in touch with people from my sex work days, lol, is not something I normally did, or do. He’s literally the only one, and that’s because it just....kinda happened? *Shrugs* He's not a regular presence in my life or anything like that, just the only one from those days that for various reasons, I kinda kept in casual contact with - which for me pretty much meant that I called him or he called me like, a couple times a year to just be like hey how you been. And it’d been a couple years to be honest, cuz like....*gestures at the last two years* 

LOLOL. I guess I just have very low standards for people keeping in contact with me. Who knows why. One of those inexplicable mysteries I guess.

But point is, he got back to me like, the same day, and acted as a go between for me with this old friend of his, who works at Cedars Sinai as a chaplain, their non-denominational one...last week, at the time, I was only focused on the advice part of the email he sent after he asked around the hospital for recommendations, and it kinda didn’t even register that this guy wasn’t just....had connections at Cedars Sinai, but was actually working there himself (for some reason, I thought he was in a different state when first put in contact with him, whatever). Let alone what his title there was. So he gave a recommendation that I’m following up on today, and I just called the old client of mine who put me in touch with him to clarify a few things he’d say, and it only then hit me where this friend of his worked, and so I asked how long he’d worked there and turns out it was two years.

Which was...when my aunt killed herself. And that was where she worked.

So. Like. This random guy who I’ve never met before, doing a favor for me as a favor for this guy who used to pay me for sex and kinda almost accidentally ended up as like...a casual but distant friend, is literally the guy who was hired to replace my aunt as the non-denominational chaplain at Cedars Sinai when she died two years ago.

And I don’t have the first fucking clue what to do with that?

Like....I’ve always considered myself ‘comfortably agnostic,’ like I’m more than willing to believe a higher power exists, I’m just not all that concerned with forming a definitive idea of what that might be or look like or want. I hate organized religion with a passion because lol, repressive Catholic upbringing, and I’ve just never felt a particular need to go out and look for faith in anything other than myself and like....the things in life I actually value, y’know? I’m of the mindset that like, I figure if I do things cuz they’re the right things to do and try and live a good life where I’m helpful to people and empathetic and compassionate, whatever that Higher Power’s specific deal is, they’re either gonna decide that’s good enough for them when I die, or if its not good enough on its own merits, like...idk why I would even want anything from them or anything to do with them anyway? Like sure God, send me to hell because the only thing that really matters in the end is I didn’t sign up for your official email mailing list or whatever the fuck. Nope. 

So religion and faith and spirituality have never been a big...thing for me, or part of my life, its not something I really feel like, a void for not having or whatever. I don’t have an issue with what anyone else believes or why, up until the point where their personal faith apparently requires them to like....impinge upon my actual life and ability to live it the way I choose to....but I’m not like that dude who goes around trying to poke holes in peoples’ faith, just like...respect that I’m not interested in a sales pitch and we’re cool, y’know? Like my aunt was a chaplain, literally the only person in my family who ever kept in regular contact and like, made a point to check on how I was doing and shit and like...idk, loved me, is I guess the word to use? LMFAO. But like....yeah, she was the only relative I actually felt valued by, and thus the only one I really had anything like a regular or ongoing relationship with....*shrugs* So like yeah, whatever. She believed things that I don’t necessarily NOT believe, but more just have never felt a need to explore or try and decide just WHAT exactly I believe or put a name or a description to it.

And I’ve never been someone who sees signs in stuff that happens, nooooooot a fan of fate or destiny as a general concept and like....I’ve got no problem believing that things like ghosts or demons or anything like that could exist, y’know, things that just can’t be explained by science or anything near to our current understanding of reality at least....I’ve just never had anything remotely close to something I would describe as an encounter with the supernatural, or demonic or divine or anything really...spiritual, I guess?

So.....I don’t know what to feel about this, lol. Like, I’m trying not to read anything into it, like y’know....a sign, haha, not because I wouldn’t like to think that my aunt is still looking out for me in some way, I guess, maybe? Like, of course I’d like to think that, I miss her. A lot. And actually have been randomly thinking about her a bunch lately, like at weird times like, I don’t know what it is that made me stop and think of her, my thoughts go there? So I mean....I’m just saying....it wouldn’t break my brain or upend my entire worldview to accept that could actually happen or be a thing, its more just that I’ve gotten my hopes up so many damn times this past year in specific, that I’m just like....I cant afford to pin my hopes on THIS, like that this is ‘a sign’ that this time, its going to work out? But at the same time, its SO FUCKING SPECIFIC a connection like, and in such a WEIRD fucking round about way, that its pretty much impossible NOT to try and read something into it? Like, the guy who replaced her never even MET her, she’s literally just the woman who had his office before him and well. Is probably just remembered as a depressing story around the hospital, to be totally honest, cuz like, there’s not a lot of follow up that tends to happen when you ask so what happened to her and the answer is well, she killed herself, y’know?

So its like, how do you not get your hopes up even just a little bit, from thinking about that......which I figure means, oops, further to fall and crash and burn if this lead fizzles out too and I got my hopes up for nothing, but if it does pan out, like....I guess that’s kinda the point of faith in a higher power in the first place, lol, to hope for better or believe that there’s a point to all this or a place this all is headed, idk.

But then also now I just fucking miss her too, like, even more than usual, and thinking the shit I’ve tried really really really goddamn hard not to think about for the past two years, like how I know she had her own mental health struggles and even physical health issues, and I know better than to fucking blame her and yet there’s that part of me that wants to fucking throw a tantrum about how i need her and how could she leave me alone with just the rest of my useless fucking joke of a family, but then there’s the other part of me that’s like well I obviously wasn’t the help she needed either, so its not like I’ve got any right to think I was owed her presence or help or anything like that, its just. Idk. I miss her. I need her. I love her, like there’s so many things I want to tell her that I never got the chance to because I didn’t just fucking take the chances I had when they were actually available and there are so many more things I wish she’d told me, and just. I knew she cared, at least. No matter how detached I felt from the rest of my family or just like...fuck family in general, lol, she was the one person there who I never doubted like...just cared. About me. Gave a shit, showed up, wanted me to actually be happy and wanted that to look like whatever I wanted it to look like, didn’t give a fuck what other people thought my happiness should look like or require.

And its just like, maybe this is just a really weird, strange, major coincidence or maybe its a sign of something or proof of something and maybe it doesn’t even matter, bc like...I was just gonna say that its not like I even NEED the answers or to know, but like lol, dumbass, the fact that I’m actually asking the questions or getting worked up over whether or not I actually believe this means something or I just WANT to believe it means something, like, would tend to suggest I’m shitting myself and I DO actually want the answers which suggests maybe I’m not actually as agnostic or at least not comfortable with being agnostic as I’ve told myself, which....oh fucking hell. Am I having an existential crisis? Is that what this is? Jfc I better not be having a fucking spiritual awakening or whatever the fuck, like that is not what I need, this is NOT the time for that, literally nobody asked and I should know, Ive been here the whole time and nope nope nope this guy is not your ‘but the real salvation came from finding strength and purpose in something greater than myself in my most dire time of need’ narrative or whatever like I FUCKING REFUSE, my belief system can go to the BACK OF THE LINE until I’m good and ready to deal with it on MY time, I didn’t sign on to do a rewrite of some modernized Book of Job shit, literally any other thought in my brain is invited to step the fuck right up because THANK YOU, NEXT, I just willingly made an Ariana Grande reference because I can think of nothing more suitably over the top dramatic short of tossing my hair which is much too short to toss but again I insist nooooooooooooooope.

Like, love you and miss you Aunt Diane, and if that is you looking out for me plz know I’m very grateful even tho it totally doesn’t sound like it, but like, you know me well enough to know that I like....object to this timing and context on principle, WHICH YES HELLO I AM AWARE SOUNDS FUCKING STUPID NOW THAT IM TYPING IT OUT YET IT PERSISTS SO LIKE WHATEVER AND STUFF....just. I am me, and thus I shall super gratefully take like....just a smidgen of hope and optimism or whatever from this offering so like, I don’t want to be RUDE, but then Im gonna put the rest of it back in its box and shove it alllll the way to the back of my Pressing Priorities and unpack all that at a very fucking much later date, thank you ever so much, because like....I gotta be me, and I have been partners in crime with my Cynicism for way too long to just bail on him now, like, what kind of person would I be if I just cut and run on the anthropomorphized negative outlook that has helped see me through life oh so jadedly until now? 

Ugh wtf, why am I like this, is it free will or is it God or is God even real or did Cthulu eat god or is God’s actual name Sonya and like I have no clue where I’m going with any of this, look the answer is obviously that a faithless blasphemous heretical fucker has phone calls to make today, and nobody’s finding the light here, nope, nope, NOOOOOPE, my motel’s one shitty lightbulb works GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME.

#what was the point of all this? #idk #do I ever know? #no #the answer to that is no #oh and also plz dont reblog #this is just me screaming into the void #but like....digitally #because the metaphorical version of the void that exists in my head stopped taking my calls #fucking rude asshole

[jafreitag]

2020

On January 1, 2020, I went to LNHQ. The holiday party had happened a few days earlier – a sorta-epic “booze cruise” with Lana Del Rey off the Catalina coast. Everybody nursed hangovers on flights back home, and then bugged off to celebrate their new years with their people.

The office was spotless – just a few dust motes floating across the afternoon sunlight in the conference room. I grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote “What if…” on the green board. It was intended as a turn-the-page talking point. OM and I had had a sit-down after we got back from Cali. Good talk, honestly. He’s well-versed in stuff that I do not understand, and he’s driving the proverbial bus as the new LN CEO. Lotta heartfelt questions from him, lotta heartfelt idks from me. “You gotta…” and “Yeah, I suck at that, but what about…” Some bourbon later, we adjourned. “Love you, dude” and “love you back, man.” Let’s meet next week and ok.

So that’s why I was there. What are we doing? What if… What if we actually try hard? What if ECM keeps killing it on Instagram? What if Jane and Trevor come back? What if we move to a new location, and the corporate and content wings find a new synergy? What if all of the sponsorships pan out? And O’s settlement with Adidas? Sky’s the limit, right? Let your imagination wander. I mean, what if Fiona Apple puts out a new album in 2020, and it’s not just great, but better than The Idler Wheel, which was the best album of 2012?

Seriously. What if?

Or what if the entire world breaks?

That wasn’t in my head back then.

It’s December now. And we’re in a global pandemic, which is getting worse (or at least not getting measurably better) every day. This year has been indescribably difficult for all of us, particularly the ones personally affected by Covid-19. And it has been difficult for businesses across every sector, particularly entertainment. Seen a show lately? Nope? Me, neither. At the beginning of the summer, I paid Laura Marling to watch a stream of her performance at Union Chapel in London. Seemed cool then, seems irrelevant now.

We can’t help artists/bands, really, until we can see them again. And who knows when that will be? Next summer? Next fall? Maybe 2022 before we all feel safe in massive crowds again (even with masks)? Maybe never? Until then, we have streaming services. And … woof. That’s an Apple/Spotify cart that I’d prefer not to upend, mainly because it benefits me, but it’s worth some words.

I’m a Spotify person. My home team is comprised of six Spotify people. We pay, collectively, $14.99/month to stream almost any music ever recorded and released. That’s around $2.50 per person per month. Pretty good deal, right? For sure. Here’s the problem: Spotify pays $0.003 per stream. That’s 1/3 of a penny. If you’re a Zeppelin or a Beatle or a Stone, that’s just a nice little dividend. (Keith is like, “Hey, baby, I love Spot-ify. I bought this sweet fedorah with that check.”) If you’re somebody else, somebody less established in the Rock-royalties pantheon, you’re probably not buying a hat. You’re probably hoping that Spotify might, might, pick up your next cup of coffee – or one at the end of the year, I don’t know how that works.

Spotify does this year-end Wrapped thing. You get a weird Snapchat/Instagram video that tells you stuff. Your most listened-to artist/band, your also-rans, etc. You also get some pretty sweet virtual (and unearned) affirmation.

My win was this.

911 seems good. It’s better than 11. The green-dotify didn’t specify whom those new artists were, which sucks, but I have a decent idea. And I’m guessing that many of those artists have Bandcamp pages, and I didn’t visit any of those. Actually, that’s not true. I did visit the Car Seat Headrest page because Will put out three different iterations of the new record on streaming, cd, and vinyl. It was mostly the same – alternate sequences and some alternate versions of certain tracks. The alternate versions weren’t on Bandcamp. You had to buy all three formats to get the whole record. Or you had to be ok with the iteration that you got. Or you could just find the alternate versions on YouTube. Sure, they wouldn’t be on your phone, but you got to hear them.

That’s not me being petty or cheap. I could’ve bought the cd and vinyl iterations. And I could’ve bought alot of music on Bandcamp, but I couldn’t have bought 911-new-artists worth. How many could I have bought? Not sure. How would I have decided? Not sure. I’m glad that I discovered that many sounds, and I’m concerned that most of those sounds were produced by real people struggling to create in this challenging (intentionally undersold the adjective there, but “terrible” and “horrible” seemed trite) environment. I’m more glad than concerned, if you follow the dichotomy. And I’m not happy about it. Having identified the problem, however, I’m flummoxed about a solution.

I listened to alot of music in 2020. #WFH #FTW (And two hashtag sentence fragments make a sentence. I just checked the LN style manual. Jane said ok.)

Alessandro Deljavan is an Italian pianist, who was born a few months before I graduated high school. He recorded Erik Satie’s piano works. My best friend and I listened to that alot this year – she calls it “sleeping music.” Miles Davis, obv. Early-covid, I made a chronologically-tight playlist of his pre-Columbia material. Mid-covid, I started a chronologically-tight and still-unfinished playlist of his fusion material. Jenny Lin? I think that’s a holdover from last year, when sleeping music was her Chopin’s Nocturnes. CSH was my lawnmowing soundtrack. Daniel Baremboim? No idea, maybe I hit his Mendelssohn’s Leider ohne Worte too many times during the days.

Minutes listened and top genre are what I want to talk about, real quick, before I get list-y. 115,891 minutes is 1,931 or so hours, and 80.5 or so days. I listened to two and a half months straight of music this year. That’s not a brag or even a humble brag. It’s a fact. And most of that (trust me here, I ran my ass off to playlists) was Indie Rock – the aforementioned “new artists.” How can I help them, besides streaming their amazing work over and over and over, and championing them here? Shouting indirectly at Spotify on social media seems unlikely to change a flawed system. Anybody with more constructive ideas can share them below the line.

Ok, the list.

I did it. I broke the unspoken rule (nobody gets #1 twice), and I’m ok with it. 2020 was a unique year. Up top, that’s Fiona from a Zoom call over the summer. She didn’t really know about Liner Notes, but she was willing to talk while walking her dogs. I wasn’t sure that Fetch the Bolt Cutters would be the album of the year at that point, but it was a nice chat. Tbh, I struggled to finalize the list because any of the Top 10 could’ve been Top. The margins were very fine. (And fwiw, I may tweak things a bit over the next few weeks.) Links to Spotify. And COME ON, Spotify. Pay artists more, and pay indie artists even more than that.

Fiona Apple – Fetch the Bolt Cutters

Phoebe Bridgers – Punisher

Waxahatchee – Saint Cloud

This Is the Kit – Off Off On

HAIM – Women in Music Pt. III

En Attendant Ana – Juillet

Samia – The Baby

Kelly Lee Owens – Inner Song

Adrianne Lenker – songs / instrumentals

Porridge Radio – Every Bad

SAULT – Untitled (Black Is) / Untitled (Rise)

Taylor Swift – folklore / evermore

The 1975 – Notes On A Conditional Form

Car Seat Headrest – Making a Door Less Open

Perfume Genius – Set My Heart on Fire Immediately

Lomelda – Hannah

Fleet Foxes – Shore

Soccer Mommy – color theory

Beach Bunny – Honeymoon

Retirement Party – Runaway Dog

Shopping – All or Nothing

Ela Minus – acts of rebellion

The Strokes – The New Abnormal

Fontaines D.C. – A Hero’s Death

Kate NV – Room for the Moon

Dehd – Flower of Devotion

Gum County – Somewhere

Bad Moves – Untenable

Jeff Tweedy – Love Is the King

Laura Marling – Song for Our Daughter

Autechre – SIGN

Four Tet – Sixteen Oceans

Sorry – 925

Dream Wife – So When You Gonna…

Fenne Lily – BREACH

Margaret Glaspy – Devotion

Jordana – Something to Say to You

Hinds – The Prettiest Curse

Gorillaz – Song Machine: Season One

Tame Impala – The Slow Rush

Tycho – Simulcast

Ólafur Arnalds – some kind of peace

Ezra Feinberg – Recumbent Speech

Slow Pulp – Moveys

Young Jesus – Welcome to Conceptual Beach

Bartees Strange – Live Forever

U.S. Girls – Heavy Light

Empress Of – I’m You’re Empress Of

Charli XCX – how i’m feeling now

Oliver Coates – skins n slime

LN is on hiatus for a little while.

More soon.

JF

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[neo-losangeles]

taking the dead out of the sea

I could hold a grudge to ahzer and drown in my anger and frustration for the lack of self-awareness from a man who refuses to engage in his own movement in the world in an honest way. I can let my own truth which is wiser and sharper  understand that he does not mean well. that I chose to not explain to him that his queer shame is violent and deadly. I can choose to forgive him and myself for holding this anger in me. I don't really hate him. I hate that we left on a bad note. but its okay. I can let it go. out of the red and into the blue. I am in the blue now. I am glad he had a good time in Los Angeles. 

on another note 

Elliot doesn't really care for him the way that I do. that is okay. its not a bad thing but maybe I was trying to redeem myself after playing him last summer. I don't need to punish myself for his forgiveness or redemption. I apologized opened up and shit—we have a better relationship than last summer. despite that he doesn't hold me in the light that I do. I won't be disrespected like that anymore. I could tell by the way he didn't ask about me or any questions. maybe I am being spiteful because I am still hurt about that. I should walk away with ease just like Elliot is. I think after last night when I was thinking about it — I am. 

the other day Juan made it worst too. he said, “we accepted you” as a means of proclaiming his love. if that is the agreement of love than its fucking trash. then JC made some commit on men during rodeo’s wearing earrings—then Marlen said something about. I was/am to tired to tell them it was wack statement.  

also why get offended when I called Marlene—the straights—in regards to them judging something queer/something along the lines of them deciding if it was gay enough. (gay as queer but specifically sexuality) she erupted with you don't know how my vagina is queer enough. that is A VERY CIS THING TO DO. a very essentialist thing to do. nobody said you weren't queer enough and you referring to vagina says a lot about how you value your gender. is your gender understanding that fragile? what I was referring to at the moment was —ok let the two straight people (who don't share x identity) to decide/comment on the gay thing. that is why I said, okay straights thanks! then the uproar happened! in that moment— I was shocked she responded the way she did. 

I guess after this summer I was expecting shelter in them my chosen family and had all this weird violence happen all around. I should be less naive and expect this to happen. what the difference is —is these people are willing to learn—and I learn with them—that is what love is about — a system of accountability with one another—Marlen and Juan listening and doing work is love—I am not upset but more aware that people will say shit that will hurt you. it will fucking hurt. I should develop a better skill set to advocate for myself and explain myself. When things happen to understand them quicker and then advocate for myself —when it happens.— I could of explained it to Marlen faster and quicker but I was shocked she reacted the way she did. I thought she would understand my joke and not knee jerk to saying straights—its okay though—also wtf—is there like weird. I wonder if Marlen holds something against me. I brought up emotional labor and she said I owe her a billion dollars after I told her I did so much emotional labor for th boys during the summer. if she holds something against me I just want her to tell me— I think if something like that happens again I am just going to ask — I don't want to labor that shit. I just want to know. 

also — is my tied upends with emotional labor--- so much that I have a pride in it as a means of grounding an identity as trans/femme/idk/non-binary-/to compensate for these feelings. is my gender dysphoria manifesting in my pride? I think it is. I have a lot to think about—well lets try if I change my body and begin to work out —to the point where I don't feel as insecure in my body would help with my body dysphoria? I think I am going to do that. I lost a lot of weight so that did help a bit feel more comfortable in my body. 

I am also very sensitive— I pick up on little shit—but also—things like that don't carry a lot of weight all the time. Letting go is and has been the best medicine to it all. I am aware of this and I am working on to let go. yet it is who I am. I am that girl. I am extra. I am in my feelings. I do to much. I wild out. I am aware of it. None of it is a bad thing. In fact it what makes me —me. In my relationships with other people I do not have to mold things into things they are not. that is why I am learning and practicing when to walk away for myself! cuz thats what I gotta do. I walked away from John. I really did that shit mid-program! it felt sad but felt right. I was so mad at myself at the party cuz I didn't/shouldnt of done that. its okay though. I learned deeply that I can't just play to wild out for the sake of playing/wilding out. SZA taught me!!! or at least she let me know its okay to be extra and sensitive and have those things be sparkly and crucial to who you are. they are your strengths— you just have to know when to walk away or work around the amount of love you give. not everyone is worthy— John/elliot—the only answer left is to walk away! 

maybe thats why — walking away by haim is on repeat. I am holding onto holding on. I am not ready to let go yet. I think I need to cry about it more. the tears just won't fall though. I know they are there though. 

maybe once I cry I could take the dead out of the sea—and the dark out of the arts. then maybe with this new moon in Leo—use the sunlight to make it all sparkle and shine. maybe not shine but take what is no longer useful and replenishing in my sea to fish it out. take the dead out. this is a meaty sentence—I am thinking of Glissant’s the sea is history. but can we take the dead out of the sea? or is that a stupid attempt? what if we take what is no longer beneficiary in the sea but honor the dead in the sea? 

writing this long-messy post was so freeing. one step of fishing the dead out of the sea. the sun going in virgo is gonna help purify and clear the dead in the sea. there is a lot that needs to be wiped. 

#p