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i-never-even-wanted-to-be-here · 3 years

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I really wanna hear Neil and co. speak German. So have some German hcs

"Neil was fluent in German" and I think that's very sexy of him. I bet he doesn't really have an accent because he probably had to stay stealth in Europe and therefore perfected his accent. But I think if you listen closely you might hear how he still slightly struggles with our R and CH.

He can do a Swiss accent, which is hilarious.

I'd love it if he used Austrian words instead of the German versions! (I'm Austrian, let me have this) Imagine Neil addressing a rude reporter with "Oida" cause he's just done with them.

Dan asks him to translate that but he somehow can't find a good translation for it. (Because I can't)

I am aware that he doesn't know memes but "Bruder, muss los" (basically Ight I'mma head out) is his entire situation.

Nicky would call him "Dicka/ Digga" (dude) cause they're jocks.

And I'm begging for Neil to call Drew "Schatz" (darling; lit. treasure) just ONCE. He'd get a glare in return but I feel like Andrew would secretly gay panic.

Nicky's accent would be good, pure high German, since he's studied it for a long time and Erik gave him good experience. I bet they love hearing each other speak German and Erik is super supportive.

S*x happens in English tho because German dirty talk sounds DISGUSTING.

Der/die/das Nutella? They start fighting and betting until they think to ask Erik, who doesn't know it either but joins in on the discussion because he's highly opinionated on the topic. They're yelling, team bonds are being destroyed. The other Foxes think they've finally lost it.

Neil refuses to say "Schulz". Andrew considers breaking up with him about this but has a reputation to uphold so he pretends to dislike that rule as well.

Erik would show Nicky the movie "Schuh des Manitu" to culture him and they'd jam to The Superperforator Commercial because it is indeed a timeless bop.

Aaron and Andrew definitely have an accent. Apparently they have strong vocab because they use big words. I can imagine them struggling with articles and grammar tho. Andrew not so much because of his eiditic memory ofc.

Aaron wonders why tf "bitte", "so!" and "tja..." are being used in so many different contexts.

Nicky keeps a list of strange German words like Handschuhe (gloves, lit. hand shoes) and Kabelsalat (lit. cable salad) because he finds them funny.

One day Aaron behaves unusually upset and when Nicky asks him about it he says that he's mad that Haribo does NOT make him happy. Nicky joins in on being upset now. Andrew is in the back eating Haribo, unimpressed. The artificial flavours hit different that day.

manic!Andrew will directly translate German expressions like "How much clock is it?" or even worse "This is sausage to me". It annoys everyone. Most of all me.

Aaron mixing up the ways to say Why. When do you use which one? Ugh screw it, just say "warum".

When is it ss and when is it ß? Do it randomly, it is now süss and müßen (technically not wrong but you sound like a boomer)

Neil: Paradeiser (Austrian word for tomato)

Andrew: Tomate (German word for tomato)

Neil: -.-

Andrew: nobody fucking says Paradeiser ketchup!

Neil: Erdapfel (potatoe)

Andrew: that sounds horrible. It's Kartoffel.

Neil: Gelse (mosquito)

Andrew: it's Mücke

Neil: okay but get this... Polster (pillow)

Andrew: I will murder you

Nicky calling the shorter foxes Knilch, Schlingel and other cute, stupid expressions for which he gets ignored. Once he says "Füchschen" (little fox) to Andrew and that's when he snaps :)

"Stop! It all stays as it is, whether you're here or not!", Nicky yells. Neil looks very tired. It's one of these rare moments, in which he makes eye contact with Aaron and in that second, only that second, they feel a deep connection based on shared inner pain.

Anybody could be Manuel Neuer at this point and it is driving them crazy.

Aaron messes up and says "schwul" (gay) instead of "schwül" (humid) and Nicky laughs really hard at him.

Whenever one of them uses the Dativ instead of Genitiv the others immediately jump in and correct him. "It's wegen+Genitiv, you moron!!"

German jam sessions in the car on their way to Columbia. "Ich muss durch den Monsun, hinter die Welt" and "Du sitzt im Maserati Mercedes und siehst aus wie ein Loser", throw in some Trailerpark and Bausa too. They have a whole playlist with different artists and all the iconic songs. Kevin is suffering, as always.

Something is in the street and one of the boys yells "umfahren!" (run it over/ drive around it) but Nicky doesn't know which one is meant so they awkwardly swerve while screaming.

Aaron knows that German anime openings are the best. One piece, Digimon, you name it. They use anime as a form of confrontational therapy for Kevin. The two of them would watch an anime in Japanese with German subtitles.

Nicky once accidentally addressed manic!Andrew with "Sie" (formal you) instead of "du" (informal you) and Aaron would mock him going "Ihr" (very formal you) and "Eure Majestät" (your majesty) so Andrew is like "That's right, Riko can leave, I'm king now", which actually gets a little laugh out of Aaron. Nicky is really happy that they had a brief bonding moment.

"Alles bäm?", Nicky asked. In that moment Neil could've sworn he was back on German soil with his mom, drinking the clearest water, while making his way down to Stuttgart. "Läuft", he responds blinking tears away. He hadn't thought anything besides torture could make him cry.

Aaron calls Riko "Hurensohn" (son of a bitch; very common insult) once and at some point teaches Kevin how to say it.

Andrew's famous "That doesn't mean I wouldn't blow you" (Das heißt nicht, dass ich dir nicht einen blasen würde) in German sounds kinda nasty imo. But Neil's shocked "You like me?" (Du magst mich?) is honestly pretty cute.

When they're in Germany Erik once makes a stupid reference "Warum liegt da Stroh?" (Why is there straw lying around?), which is a porn reference that somehow everyone in Germany knows, even if they haven't watched it. He is surprised when, of all people, Aaron is the one who reacts with "Why are you wearing a mask?", who now has to hastily explain that in high school German class someone mentioned it and he wanted to know what it meant so he unwisely looked it up.

Erik sends Kinder Surprise Eggs to Andrew to earn his trust.

Nicky makes up stupid German sayings. "You know in situations like this they say This is really flipping my pancakes right now but at least the pigs fly high". Neil thinks it sounds fishy but doesn't know for sure because German expressions are weird so he doesn't say anything. The others just have to believe it. One day Andrew brings it up in front of Erik to impress him but Erik just blinks at him in confusion. Andrew is angery. Nicky has to hide for the rest of the day.

+Bonus

Matt finds their German conversations very fascinating and asks for a few words. Neil makes him say "Eichhörnchen" (squirrel) but Matt fails miserably.

#aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #nora sakavic #neil josten #andrew minyard #twinyards #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #andreil #jerejean

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platypanthewriter · 3 years

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The Tanning Rock

Harringrove April prompt 28, Tanning--Creatures!AU (This one grew to nearly 6k and I’m so sorry) @wasting-time-again HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, HAVE A MERMAN! XD

The lawyer who summoned Billy—about an inheritance, he said—was...weird. Straight out of a movie, with long incisors and a cravat, and he steepled his fingers as he talked.

Max said he was probably actually a vampire, and Billy agreed—which was weird, because as far as Billy knew, his mom’s family wasn’t exactly old money, and it was hard to imagine a vampire getting on a plane to fly clear to California and summoning him to a crypt full of file cabinets, all just to read a will about his mom’s collection of surfing stickers and pile of old National Geographics.

Billy knew his father had disowned him, so he bit his lips together, waiting to hear that his mother had died.

“I am here about the estate of your grandmother,” said the vampire lawyer, and Billy drew a shaky breath of relief. “Your mother was disowned—” he said, and Billy almost snorted a laugh—like mother, like son, he thought, “—and so her domicile has passed to you.”

“Wait, what,” Billy breathed, wide-eyed.

“It is an unusual case,” said the lawyer—Fangun and Stayk, est. 986, read his card, but Billy wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to Fangun or Stayk, or whether the whole thing was a joke yet, so he kept his mouth shut. “You will take ownership of the house and land, however, you may not live there—that is, not year-round, not unless you are given an invitation by a resident. It is a closed community.”

“...can I sell it?” Billy asked, and the deepset eyes of the lawyer stared back at him, bloodshot and dry.

“At well below market value,” he said, steepling his fingers again. They made a dryish noise. “As I said, they dislike outsiders. And a stranger will be even more of an outsider than you, in whom runs...the blood of the place.”

Billy wondered, dully, whether he’d inherited a haunted graveyard, or a den of werewolves, and groaned into his hands. Maybe he was part zombie somehow. Just his luck. “Where is it,” he sighed.

“It is not on commonly available maps,” said the vampire, and Billy nodded. It figured, he thought, though his ears perked up considerably when his grandmother’s lawyer laid out a map of Hawaii.

They got a ride from the shore on a fishing boat at four o’clock in the morning. “It’s barely tourist season yet,” said the fisherwoman, showing Max how to steer. “There will be a ferry, in a week or two, but I can give you two a ride out the day your visa’s up if the ferry quits sooner.”

“We want enough time to look around,” Max said, glancing at Billy. They’d let their lease run out, and sold most of their things, because a few orange crates of records were a small price to pay for never running into Neil Hargrove around town. “You could get a job on one of the normal islands,” Max had suggested, quietly, over and over. “If they don’t like us enough.”

Billy’d never suggested moving Max so far away, but she’d assumed they were going, and after a while he went along with it. It wouldn’t be so bad, he thought, getting a job in a hotel somewhere after the islanders threw him out. Max would probably love it, in Hawaii.

A fresh start, she had said, and it sounded good.

He and Max were greeted by a woman in a wheelchair, who stamped their passports. “Technically, we’re a different country,” she said, smiling. She had very brown skin, and looked contentedly half-asleep in the sun. “You’re the only visitors on the island, for a week or two,” she said, cocking her head. “We’re not always in a big hurry to scrub up the ferry for the summer. We love the money, but the tourists...” she laughed, shaking her head. “Three-month pleasure trip visa. Have a nice summer,” she said, waving them away.

Her benign lack of interest lessened Billy’s initial fears that he’d inherited membership in some rich, yoga-pants-wearing, white Human Superiority cult.

The house was traditional-ish, with a grass roof and walls, big open windows with no glass, only shutters, and a wide shaded veranda all the way around. It looked over a beach with rolling waves, and Billy couldn’t wait to get his board out there.

“I’m gonna look around the house,” Max said. “See if I can find any neighbors. Maybe I can bring them cookies.” She set her jaw, frowning around at their luggage, and the scattered pillows. “Maybe we can buy some furniture somewhere.”

“...we can always just come here for summers,” Billy told her, breathing it in.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have a great time getting a tourism job where you don’t work summers,” Max said, raising a sarcastic eyebrow, and Billy realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that she expected him to figure it out. Find someone who wanted him to stay, here, on the island, at his grandmother’s house.

“I’m no good at making friends, Max,” he reminded her, and she snorted.

“Better get out of my hair, then.” She folded her arms, taking another deep breath of the smell of grass in the sun. After a long moment, she looked back at him again. “...we’ve got a little over three months, Billy.”

He suspected it sounded longer to her.

When he wandered down to the beach, Billy could see someone’s tanned shoulders lying across a jutting rock about fifty feet out, and he paddled a ways towards it on his surfboard, getting the lay of the ocean. There was a rip tide, dark and eerily quiet, to his right, but the rest of the beach had shallow, warm, clear waves over white sand and coral until a dark dropoff about fifty feet out where the rolling waves began.

As he paddled closer to the rock, he could see the man on it—asleep, Billy thought, just lying in the sun as the waves lapped at his skin. As Billy drifted closer, paddling with his hands, he could see a long-fingered hand hanging in the water, and he paddled faster, suddenly wondering whether the man wanted to be out on a rock, or whether he was a Dude In Distress, his leg cramped, needing a ride to the beach on Billy’s surfboard and a trip around the boardwalk, and maybe some shaved ice.

As Billy approached, the guy opened his eyes, frowning over at Billy with wide, half-awake brown eyes. He pushed himself up on the rock with his arms like the goddamn Little Mermaid, Billy thought, amused. His throat went dry watching the flex of muscle, and the water droplets where the dude had lifted himself out of the bay.

Billy paddled at random, a little, unable to tear his eyes away. He cleared his throat. “Just, uh, making sure you didn’t need any help,” he said, staring at the tanned arms and swimmer’s chest in front of him, nearly triangular, like a superhero. “I, um. Guess you’re fine.”

The guy raised his eyebrows, starting to smirk, and then his eyes widened, and Billy realized in a flash of blue and foam that he’d drifted right into the fucking rip tide. Right in front of the gorgeous dude on the rock, Billy thought in the back of his mind, trying to hold onto his surfboard and let the rip tide take him wherever it would. Just his luck, he thought, dying because he was so damn gay he saw nice shoulders and his brain switched off. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to breathe before he got sucked down, and his lungs and sinuses were starting to ache worse than the rest of him, even as he was buffeted around against his board, when an arm slid around his waist.

He wanted to yell at the guy—and he did, in an explosion of bubbles—because what the hell good was it gonna do, swimming into a rip tide, but the muscles against his back and butt flexed, and they were moving sideways out of the rip tide, and then Billy’s head was above water. He gasped and choked, coughing up half the sea. The ocean moved soothingly around them, as this dude had no trouble holding Billy up, and Billy tried to clear his throat and eyes.

“Have you seriously never seen a tail before,” the guy groaned, hauling Billy along like he was no more effort to lift than a little kid at the pool. Billy felt rock against his thigh, suddenly, and scrambled onto it, coughing and wiping his eyes to see he was on the jutting rock the dude must have jumped off of, to save him.

“How-how fucking humiliating,” he gasped out loud. “Can’t believe. C-can’t believe I fucking p-paddled into a rip tide.”

“You drifted back into the...yeah,” his hot rescuer said, still in the water, with one hand on the rock to hold him steady as he frowned at Billy. His voice sounded a little odd—Billy was reminded of the Chinese grocery by his house, where their English was perfect, but they had a lilt as they tried to speak an atonal language with a tonal ear. Up close, he was even prettier, with moles Billy wanted to track down his neck and shoulders, and a doubtful, scrunched-up mouth Billy wanted to kiss.

“Sorry,” Billy wheezed, still coughing. “Sorry, I’m such a moron, sorry.” He tried to keep his eyes above the water level, but some part of his brain kept looking for tanned legs kicking under the surface, and he suddenly registered that the moving colors weren’t just fish and anemones. “Holy shit,” he coughed out. “You have a tail.”

His rescuer frowned harder, probably worried Billy had brain damage. “I figured that’s why you swam into the rip tide,” he said slowly, and Billy shook his head, groaning.

“No—fuck, I’m sorry, you—you’re just hot as fuck, I’m just a moron, I’m—damn it,” he sighed. “Sorry, jesus, I’m so fucking rude, sorry, I just didn’t notice, I was like ‘How the hell did he get me out of there? OH!’, sorry,” he muttered, sighing. “...drown me.”

“I am though, right,” the merman said, grinning, “—hotter than you,” and Billy realized he’d found the only person on the island more annoying than he was.

“Yeah, yeah, just laugh at the poor gay moron who nearly drowned staring at you, that’s nice,” he huffed, lying back against the warm rock to catch his breath.

“Was it love at first sight?” asked his rescuer, and Billy opened his eyes to glare.

“Shut up, asshole,” he grunted.

“Just asking,” his tormenter asked. “Are you gonna pine away, sighing over me? Hey, d’you think you’ll always do that? If I swim over in town, you think you’ll fall off the boardwalk?”

“Fuck you,” Billy told him, leaning his face in his arms and laughing. “Yeah, probably, you shithead. Are you gonna...follow me around? So I can look like more of an idiot?”

“Mmm, can you though…” the gorgeous merman asked thoughtfully, and Billy growled into his arms, feeling his whole body warm. He blamed it on the sun. “Why,” his rescuer asked, pulling himself up to laugh against Billy’s ear. “—you want me to follow you someplace?”

“Oh my god,” Billy groaned, laughing harder. “Are you afraid to leave me alone now? What if I try and eat my surfboard?”

“...are you gonna?”

“Maybe?!” Billy told him, then pushed himself up, frowning around to look for it.

“I’ve got it, it’s right here,” the smug asshole told him, waggling the surfboard in the water. “Want me to take you back to shore?”

“No!” Billy laughed, sighing. “I’m going surfing, just because I nearly died making an ass of myself doesn’t mean—”

“Hrm, maybe I should keep an eye on you.”

“Why,” Billy asked, then pitched his voice just a little lower. “You like what you see?”

“I could get used to it,” the merman said, and Billy started to preen, but the dickhead finished with “—kind of a comedy special, kind of thing,” and Billy reached over and smacked a big splash of water at him.

He laughed, his throat arching back, the gills along it thin dark lines that Billy fantasized kissing around.

Just as Billy was considering grabbing the surfboard and using it as a weapon of blunt force trauma, the merman leaned in close, his smirk widening around pointed teeth, and his cool, salty lips pressed firmly against Billy’s. Billy made a weird gulping noise in his throat, and the asshole started to pull away, but Billy leaned in, and fell clean off the rock. His weight dunked them both, and they rose sputtering and laughing, Billy held securely in his merman’s arms as his surfboard floated away. He couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“...my name’s Billy,” he panted.

“...Steve,” the mer-dickhead said, raising his eyebrows, like it was weird to want to know his name.

“...I inherited a house here,” Billy told him in a rush, drunk on kisses. “I’m from California. My mom used to talk about this place when I was a kid. Surfing here. With her mom.”

“...is she here?” Steve asked, steadying them with one hand on the rock, and glancing back at the beach.

Billy laughed, shaking his head. “Fuck, sorry, you don’t need to know my shit. We can make out. You’re short-circuiting my brain.”

“...I should probably get your surfboard,” Steve told him, grinning, but he leaned his head in again, gentle with his sharp teeth, and Billy inhaled shakily as the points grazed his lips and tongue.

“Jesus,” he whispered, once he could talk, and then he licked his lips and wrenched himself away to swim after his surfboard, just so his smug rescuer wouldn’t have to fetch it for him. The waves got bigger as he got out to where the trees weren’t acting as a windbreak, and he clambered up on his board, glaring back as Steve wolf-whistled.

When he let the tides pull him back towards the gorgeous merman on the rock, he lost his mind again, telling him his tail looked like a peacock butt, and Steve cracked up, grinning at him.

“...so, neighbor, you have to win someone over enough to invite you to stay,” he said, cocking his head.

“Yup,” Billy told him, pointing up at the house he’d inherited, built into the hill, the old grass vacation cottage blending in with the trees.

“And your method is to tell me I look like bird ass,” Steve continued, and Billy grimaced, waving his hands.

“No! No, I don’t—I know people have to get to know you. Here. I’ll…” he sighed. “I’ll try for a few months and see what happens. If nothing...clicks, maybe I’ll try again next summer,” he said, grimacing, and wondering what Max would do, if they weren’t allowed to stay. Leave, maybe, he thought—she was seventeen, and she could get a job herself.

He ended up teaching Steve to surf, after showing off his best efforts. When he swam back, panting, Steve looked properly impressed, and even more tanned. “Teach me,” he said, and Billy leaned in to kiss him again, nodding.

“That gonna get you to like me enough to let me stay?” Billy asked, and Steve frowned at him, but Billy laughed, and leaned in for another kiss.

“Tomorrow?” Steve had whispered against his lips, and Billy got no sleep at all that night, he just rolled over every couple hours to check the clock, and see that another two minutes had passed.

Steve was fascinating to watch on the board, his tail trailing as he controlled it with his hands around either side, his abs flexing as he held himself in a kind of plank pose with the support of his tail. Billy watched, and realized he was drooling.

“You like me enough to keep me?” he asked that night, teasing, and Steve laughed.

“Ask me again tomorrow.”

Merpeople—or at least, Steve, Billy corrected mentally, realizing he was dealing with a sample size of one—loved bread. Like a cat, Billy thought, watching Steve eye his croissant, or bagel. He started just bringing one every morning for Steve, and some coffee, and it was hilarious watching the fluffy flesh of a croissant dangling between Steve’s shark-like teeth. He waited every morning, and even though Billy wasn’t sure whether Steve was waiting for Billy or the bread he was carrying, he got heart palpitations every time he came down the ramp to the dock, and he could see the little lump of Steve’s head on his folded arms, the rest of him hanging off into the water.

“A few bagels aren’t enough to win me over,” Steve told him, and Billy’s stomach twisted, a little. He wished he hadn’t brought it up, kind of—the knowledge that he might have to leave hurt, like a sore tooth he couldn’t stop worrying at in his mouth. “Maybe more croissants,” Steve said, smiling, and Billy brought him more croissants.

When they’d arrived, they’d discovered the town was filled with mermaid stuff, and at first, Max and Billy had snickered at it, because surely even if there’d been a merperson or two living near a human town once, they’d died decades ago, or they just traded with fishing boats, far out at sea. They hadn’t considered the amount of people in wheelchairs, or the spray bottles close to hand.

When Billy suggested he bring lunch down from town, Steve swam over to haul himself up—his tail flashing in the light—through the bottom of one of the little sheds on the dock. Moments later, he banged the door open, wheeling out in an old rusty wheelchair. He spun it in a circle, waiting for Billy to climb out of the water, and then zipped ahead up the ramp to the path.

“Wait up, jesus,” Billy yelled after him, and Steve laughed, the muscles in his arms mesmerizing as they spun the wheels. He slowed down eventually, panting, enough for Billy to jog and catch up. “...lemme know if you want me to push,” Billy told him, and Steve snorted.

“Touch my chair and die,” he said.

“Fair enough,” Billy said, holding his hands up, and Steve laughed.

“It makes me…” he squinted, thinking. “...seasick…?” he offered, and Billy nodded, trotting along next to him.

“Motion-sick, probably,” he suggested, and Steve mouthed it as he rolled along.

The lady at the shaved ice stand leaned out and folded her arms on the edge of the little window, laughing at Steve. “You know they make those that work!” she called, and he flipped her off. “They don’t have to be electric! They make ‘em that just move smoothly.”

“It’ll just rust in my shed,” Steve told her, shrugging. “It’s fine.” As they waited for their tacos, Steve pulled up to a table, and his rusty, janky wheels kept rolling backwards, until Steve sighed and bent down to stuff some rocks under there.

“My friend Robin and I went in together on a nicer one,” he said, “—but I can’t park it in the shed. This one’s not so bad,” and Billy’s perception of it shifted a bit—maybe it was more like getting stuck with an old beater car occasionally, instead of something Steve needed help with. “...want to wander around, after?” Billy asked. “I haven’t got any souvenirs yet.”

Steve paused, then licked his lips. “Planning your trip home already?”

“...dunno yet,” Billy said, the invitation unspoken between them. It seemed ridiculous to want to stay so badly just because he’d met a pair of gorgeously tanned shoulders and a teasing smile, but it also wasn’t...hard to imagine, lingering on the island to go snorkeling with Steve, and learning about the reefs—he’d absorbed enough for a few semesters of marine biology, he was fairly sure, but told as stories, just off-handed things Steve had seen—and Billy was already wanting a drysuit, so he could go in the fall. Maybe Billy could get a job on a fishing boat, he thought vaguely, or help out in one of the shops.

If Steve would invite him.

Steve had slid his hands under Billy’s swimsuit a few times, pressing him back on their rock, or on the docks, rocking into him as Billy panted and gasped and fell apart under his hands—but he never said anything, after, and Billy hesitated to ask whether it was...anything, to Steve. Maybe he picks an idiot every summer, he thought, watching Steve smile at the depictions of mermaids on every surface of every shop on the main street.

“You all spend so much time keeping everything dry and dead,” he said, grinning over at Billy, who’d been anticipating a comment on the mermaid’s hourglass-like proportions, not her lack of water damage.

“...oh,” he said.

“I have a figurehead like that, but covered in anemones,” Steve said, cocking his head. “It’s beautiful.”

“I mean...you could...plant a vine on it, maybe?”

Steve nodded. “Put it outside in the rain, let it grow.” The lady behind the counter sighed, rolling her eyes, and Steve laughed.

“There’s a whole movement to ‘preserve’ our art,” he whispered to Billy. “Which mostly means they don’t let it become our art.”

“Huh,” Billy said, wondering whether human houses looked like museums, or mausoleums, to merpeople.

“Not to say that I’d pour water on your television set, or drop your mattress in the bay,” Steve said, grimacing a little, and watching Billy’s face. “I get that much.” He looked kind of uncomfortable with the lady behind the counter glaring at him, ducking his head.

Billy leaned to kiss him. He nearly steadied himself on the chair, and then remembering it would roll, and just held his hands away. Steve grinned up at him, particularly at his outstretched hands, and yanked Billy down on his not very much of a lap, hurriedly curling his tail up and around Billy’s waist as Billy threatened to slide down the smooth scales to the ground. Billy threw his arms around Steve’s neck, wide-eyed, as Steve held the wheels firmly, keeping the chair from rolling backwards under the weight of two grown men.

“Let’s go,” Steve whispered, and Billy nodded, breathing Steve’s sun-and-salt smell, and wondering whether it was okay to ask whether Steve would consider inviting him to stay—just until the next season, Billy thought, as the chair and Steve’s tail moved under him. Until the next summer, when he could ask whether Steve wanted him to stay again, or whether he wanted Billy gone.

After staying a whole year, Billy thought he might not have it in him to ask whether Steve was tired of him yet, but the thought of waking every morning to run down to the docks with coffee and banana bread was addictive, and he tried not to think about the end.

Billy ran into the lady who’d stamped his passport, and caught himself staring at her tanned legs propped up on the railing. “Oh, I’m human,” she said, laughing. “But I love it here. I can even shop in the little bookstore, imagine,” she said, and now that Billy thought about it, he realized it had an elevator in the back, and little lifts for the walkways along the higher shelves. “I’ve never had someone offer to lift me into their cafe, here,” she said, her nose wrinkled, and Billy nodded slowly.

“Shoot that thing!” she yelled, when she saw Steve’s awful old wheelchair, and he flipped her off.

“We can only invite a few people,” Steve told him, as they ate noodle bowls. “It’s for somebody you marry, you know, their family, maybe. Or if you leave the island, and have a kid.”

“Yeah,” Billy said softly, hearing the message clearly—invitations were not to be wasted, and Billy wasn’t special enough to keep. He finished his lunch, trying not to feel all butthurt about it. Max would probably understand.

Steve kissed him again, on the docks, and Billy leaned into it, feeling the familiar pressure of tears in his sinuses, and behind his eyes. He had three weeks left, he told himself. Three more weeks. Steve slid a hand up the back of Billy’s head, humming against his mouth, and Billy let himself go soft in his arms.

When they returned to the docks, Steve dug a big beach blanket out, and they spread it out on the sand, and Billy stayed out that night, losing himself in Steve’s warm hands and mouth, under stars like he’d never seen before.

Steve was watching his face the next morning, with a little frown, and Billy pulled away, sitting up.

“Better than croissants?” Billy asked, smirking a little, and Steve sighed.

“Was that what this was? Fucking me won’t make me give you an invitation,” he said. He didn’t look amused, the way he had over the bagels, and Billy wondered whether it had worked, a little. Billy’d always had a talented mouth.

“I won’t know if I don’t try, will I,” he said, laughing. “Maybe another round will help?”

“...I have to go,” Steve said, and he didn’t even fold up the blanket, just pushed himself off the edge and slid over the wet sand into the water, gone in a flip of tail. Billy watched for long minutes to see whether he’d come back—they’d been spending every day together, but probably Steve had stuff he needed to do, all the things he’d done before Billy had shown up at the island, easy with his body and his affections.

Billy folded up the blanket, and sat it in the shed, looking around. There really wasn’t much in there—it was the size of a small bathroom, with some knives for fishing, and a frayed net, and the beat-up wheelchair.

It smelled like Steve, and Billy stood and breathed, his eyes blurring with tears.

Steve didn’t come back, and after an hour or so Billy walked home, and ran into Max returning. “Billy!” she said, with a wide grin. “Nice night? I was out getting breakfast.” She told him about somebody named El, and somebody else named Lucas, and a Dustin.

Max was making friends too, he realized, which kind of made everything worse—she was doing her best, and Billy was just mooning over some guy who thought he was barely good enough for a fuck on the beach. She’d even met their families, he realized, listening, and registered that he hadn’t met any of Steve’s friends. He groaned into the pillows tossed around on the mat floor, and sighed.

“Should I stop seeing him?” he asked, mostly at the ceiling.

“I dunno why now,” Max said. “You’re not gonna find somebody else in a couple weeks.”

“Shit,” Billy groaned again.

“We can try again next summer,” Max said. “I like it here.”

The idea of returning the next summer, once Steve was bored, was enough to make Billy clench his jaw tight against the pillow he was hugging, squeezing his eyes shut against tears. “...yeah,” he said softly.

“God, you sound tragic,” she sighed, wandering over and dropping to sit on his butt. He grunted. “It’s fine, jesus. Worst case scenario we have a, like, vacation home. The vampire dude said we didn’t have to pay taxes on it.”

“Yeah, just pay for plane fare,” Billy sighed.

“He’s out there, y’know,” she said, “—tanning,” and Billy scrambled up so fast he dumped her with a drum noise on the taut mats.

When he swam out, Steve just stared out to sea, and Billy clung to the edge of the rock, biting his lips.

“I’m not giving you one of my invitations,” Steve said. “So stop trying to manipulate me into it.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, kind of wishing they’d never met. “Yeah, okay. Do—is that all, or are you sticking around?”

“I’ll stay,” Steve said, frowning at him, “—if you still wanna waste your time on somebody who’s not—how do you say it? Putting out?”

“...it’s not a waste of time,” Billy told him, swallowing hard. “I just wanted it to last longer, is all—” and Steve’s eyes narrowed intently. He grabbed Billy around the back of the neck, and yanked him into a kiss.

The remaining weeks, he took Billy snorkeling, and they had sex every night under the stars, Billy panting Steve’s name, and Steve holding him so tightly it almost hurt. Billy took him to meet Max, and she eyed him warily, but Billy fought and succeeded at securing Steve a plate of brownies, and he was vocally appreciative. She softened a little, at that.

Two days before they had to leave, Steve was lying next to Billy on the wet sand, the waves lapping up nearly to their waists. His shoulder was warm under Billy’s head, and smelled like the high ocean waves.

“...d’you think you’ll come back next summer,” Steve asked, and Billy snorted.

“Depends on whether I can afford airfare,” he said, sighing. “Depends on whether I can get a job somewhere that doesn’t need me in the summer.”

“...so I might just never see you again?” Steve asked flatly, and Billy laughed, shrugging.

“I don’t know,” he said, “—do you want to?”

“...fuck you,” Steve sighed, and Billy pushed himself up to frown at Steve’s face.

“I don’t know what you want,” he said, glaring back at Steve’s narrowed brown eyes. “You wanted me to shut up about staying. What am I supposed to say?”

Steve bit his lips together, and looked away. “...you know I’m gonna give you an invitation. You can just tell me.”

“What,” Billy whispered, scrambling to sit up, his heart pounding as Steve flopped over to scrabble around under his wheelchair, his tail flapping around a little in concentration, like a cat’s. He held an envelope out to Billy without even looking over.

“There,” he said. “All yours.”

“What,” Billy breathed, and then he half-crumpled it, opening it clumsily. “You—you’re giving me one?”

“Two,” Steve said, flatly, frowning down at the sand under his hands. “You and Max, right?”

“Holy shit,” Billy whispered, scrambling over to kiss him, once, then twice, relishing the little noise Steve made in the back of his throat when his lip slid between Billy’s teeth. “I have to go tell her,” he said, half laughing, his vision blurring with tears.

“Okay,” Steve said, quietly, and Billy hugged him before scrambling up and running back to the house.

Max stared at the two calligraphed invitations on the odd plasticky “paper” the merfolk used, written in Sharpie, and shook her head slowly. “You did it,” she said, and Billy laughed, nodding.

“He wanted me to stay enough,” he said, wiping his eyes, and desperately wanting Max to offer to handle the paperwork, so he could run back and kiss Steve.

There was a knock on the door. Max ran and opened it, and a short-haired woman wheeled in in a rainbow overall dress, and a small, fancy electric wheelchair, her tail the reds and oranges of a sunset. Billy never quite stopped being envious of how pretty the merpeople were.

“Steve gave you his invites, didn’t he,” she said, and Max slid them around her back, her eyes narrowing.

“...yeah,” Billy said, warily.

“Give them back to him,” she ordered, glaring between them. “He’s been saving those a long-ass time. He’s got plans for those, and he doesn’t need guilt-tripping by a pair of manipulative orphans, jesus.”

“I didn’t guilt-trip him,” Billy said, feeling guilty, suddenly, and remembering Steve’s stiffness as he handed them over. “I didn’t,” he said, less certainly. “...he...he just likes me, he wants me to stay—”

“He’s known you three months, and you told him you fucked him to get someplace nice for your sister to live,” she said crisply. “Give them back.”

“He’s not giving them back,” Max hissed, but she was staring at Billy in horror.

“I didn’t say that,” Billy said, waving his hands. “I didn’t! Not...exactly.”

“Fuck you,” the woman said, glaring. “You pressured him.”

“Fuck,” Billy agreed, his eyes tearing up again. “Lemme—lemme go talk to him. Max, give—give ‘em here.”

“No,” she said, sounding choked, but he walked over and grabbed them, and hugged her.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said under his breath, for her ears only, and ran back out.

Steve was perched up on his rock again, and Billy grabbed his surfboard and sat on it to glide out, paddling with his hands. The water was clear under him, his shadow passing over the anemones on the reef, and he watched the fish darting around, swallowing repeatedly.

“Hey,” he said, when he got close enough, and Steve’s head jerked around, glowering warily.

“...you came back,” he said.

“...you want me to stay, right,” Billy said, cutting straight to the chase. “You gave me these because you want me to stay.” Steve frowned back at him, and Billy’s heart sank. “Answer,” he said, his throat closing around the word.

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it,” Steve said, reaching out, but he just grabbed Billy’s board before he could drift into the rip tide again. “You wanted to stay.” He was tense, and he wouldn’t meet Billy’s eyes.

“What do you want,” Billy asked again. “...because I think your friend Robin’s in my house, and she says I guilted you into it, talking about Max. Do you...if I didn’t need an invite. Would you want me to stay?”

“...I guess,” Steve sighed, and Billy swung his leg over the board, dumping himself straight down in the water, because he was definitely about to make some kind of awful noise, and the sea felt good on his hot, wet cheeks. Steve couldn’t see him crying underwater, he thought, grabbing a jut of rock to keep himself from floating back up.

He wished he could take a few slow breaths, he thought, closing his eyes, and then something brushed his arm. He opened his eyes on Steve’s wide-eyed face, his hair swirling in the water. Billy bit his lips together harder, his hands clenching on the rock, and Steve shook his head, pointing up.

“Up,” he mouthed. “Come on.”

Billy let himself be hauled upwards, and pushed up on the rock again, like when they’d first met.

“What are you doing,” Steve asked, hanging on to Billy’s surfboard.

“Nothing,” Billy said, keeping his voice level. “I thought you wanted me to stay. For me. You can have your invites back. I didn’t—” he took a deep breath, hearing Steve’s voice say stop trying to manipulate me, and Robin’s guilt-tripping. “I fucking know I’m pathetic, okay, you don’t have to pity me. Sorry I—sorry I fucking tried, jesus, I just—” he shut his eyes tightly again, laughing as he imagined Robin’s disgusted look knowing Billy’d gone out and cried.

“Wait, fuck,” Steve whispered, clambering up next to him, where Billy barely fit by himself, since it was high tide. He was warm from the sun, his tanned skin gleaming with water droplets, and Billy salivated, because his dick obviously hadn’t gotten the message it wasn’t wanted. “Wait,” Steve said, half on top of him, his weight grating Billy’s shoulder blades against the rock. Billy didn’t really mind. “You only want to stay if—if I want you, what—what does that mean—” His brown eyes were huge.

“...don’t really know how to be clearer,” Billy told him, unable to pull his eyes from Steve’s mouth.

“You don’t want to stay unless I’m happy about it,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s hands.

“Yeah, that’s kinda how it gets, when you fall for somebody,” Billy told him, raising his eyebrows, and Steve took a shuddery breath and kissed him again. He didn’t stop, though, he just kissed Billy and kissed him, laughing shakily, his eyes welling up with tears.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, as Billy clung to him and the rock, trying to keep them from tumbling off. “I want you here, I want you. Stay with me.”

“I’m what you want?” Billy asked, startled, his brain hazy from warm kisses, and the scrape of pointed teeth. “‘M yours then,” he whispered. “All—all of me. S’yours.”

They laid there so long, whispering and giggling, that Billy had tan lines of Steve’s fingers on his shoulder for months.

Here are the other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done!

#Harringrove April #Mermay #Almost #Harringrove #Steve's got a tail #Billy's got a surfboard

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willowbird · 3 years

Note

For the prompt thing: Andrew/Neil, trope: sickness/injury, location: violently orange yacht. Have fun! Thanks =)

Ooh definitely!

Since no AU was specified I made it kinda intentionally ambiguous.

Also, so you know, I 100% sat down to write this as a cutesy seasick/comfort w/teasing sorta fic. Then, idk, i got a lil bloodthirsty. Just a little bit, though.

Warning for mentions of blood.

---

"Are you really going to hide down here for the whole time?" Kevin's voice was both tired and annoyed, and just for that Andrew didn't even bother to acknowledge his presence, let alone his words.

Instead, he pointedly turned the page in his book as if there was no one about to bother him at all. They had been out on the water for a whole six hours. Andrew had watched the shoreline get smaller and smaller as they pulled away and when it was just a fine sketch of a line along the horizon he'd gone investigating. Which was how he'd found this hidden little nook in the storage hull or whatever the big room of supplies was in the belly of the boat.

The monstrosity was technically a yacht. Which, by definition, is a pleasure liner - a boat intended for entertainment. This "yacht" was big enough to not only carry but fully house and supply a contingent of college athletes. It was suspiciously fortified and had enough supplies stockpiled away that Andrew was beginning to wonder if he hadn't been kidnapped because it seemed just a little bit excessive for a "weekend away".

Personally, he didn't think his problems were going to go away or even be at all eased by an attempted escape via ugly boat. But he wasn't the only one with those problems. He wasn't the only one hurting. And after almost a year... well, he would grudgingly tag along, but he didn't have to participate.

The damn thing was also the most grotesque shade of claw-your-eyes-out dayglow orange that Andrew had ever seen. Which honestly was one of the reasons he'd already gone inside, as of by hiding in the deepest, darkest corner of the vessel he'd save himself a migraine.

"And Andrew? The Lady Fox has luxury suites for each of us. You can't even hide in your room? You choose to come... here?" Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Kevin give his choice of hideaways a disparaging look.

Without taking his eyes from the page, Andrew lifted one hand and offered Kevin his one-fingered opinion.

The next thing he heard was Kevin's annoyed scoff, followed by his retreating footsteps. Satisfied, Andrew snuggled down a little bit deeper into the conveniently-placed hammock he'd found already strung up when he initially explored the place. The book he was reading had a bit of a slow start, but at least three of the side-characters were interesting enough to carry him through until the plot picked up.

Except, he only got two more pages along when he heard a sudden and quite ominous thump that was accompanied by a muffled groan. The book in his hand was instantly replaced with one of the knives he kept tucked in the armbands he was never without. Some people might call Andrew paranoid for bringing weapons onto a boat where he was surrounded only by close friends and family, with a literal ocean between them and harm. Those people would probably be dead right now, gutted in their sleep by a murderous stowaway. Or maybe that thump was one of his family, being murdered by the murderous stowaway.

Maybe it was Kevin.

That thought put a spike of fear in his heart, but right in its wake came a surge of deep rage.

No. He would not allow it. He had already lost... Enough had happened. He refused to let Kevin be hurt as well.

Andrew got out of the hammock as soundlessly and gracefully as possible, searching the shadows of the only half-lit cavernous space as he inched toward the source of the sound. He kept the blade poised to attack with one hand and pulled out his cell phone with the other. Two thumb-swipes later the had the flashlight enabled.

It wasn't Kevin. Nope. Definitely not Kevin.

Not-Kevin was crumpled in a heap in front of a stack of supply crates that it looked like he'd rolled off of, thus causing the thump Andrew had heard. The groan of pain, however, was clearly not from the fall. Or, well, not just from the fall.

"Who are you?" Andrew demanded, shining the light right on the person's face. They looked like a guy, probably. Short-ish hair and made up of more angles than curves - though it was really hard to tell more than that because the blood-soaked clothes were a little bit distracting.

The injured man(?) on the floor let out a choked, broken sound that Andrew belatedly realized was a laugh. It was so rasped and mangled, he'd almost thought the stowaway was about to launch into their death-throes. Judging by the bloodstains and way the person shook and swayed precariously while trying to push up to their hands and knees, that actually might not have been that far off a guess.

Then the stowaway, the person, the man, said, "Nothing."

Andrew froze. "What did you say?"

"You asked who I was," the man said, and Andrew was sure it was a man now. Moreover, the rough edges around his voice may have been tight with pain and possibly disuse, but even without Andrew's near-perfect memory he would have knows the sharp slashes of that voice anywhere.

The man looked up and in the white glow of Andrew's phone light there was no mistaking how immeasurably blue his eyes were. Like the sky painted from an artist's favorite memory. Like the hint of eternity in a crystal sphere.

Neil smiled. His face was dotted with dried blood and marked with new scars, but the expression still somehow turned the whole world on its head to make it a softer, warmer, safer place.

Andrew wasn't sure what hit the ground first, his phone, his knife, or his knees as he skidded to the floor beside Neil, reaching for him. "Neil... Neil. Fuck. The blood. It's yours? FUCK!" He was babbling, but his own voice was distant to his ears as he touched Neil for the first time in almost a year, as he gathered him close and searched for the source of all that blood.

Shaky hands reached for him and Andrew didn't even think about batting them away. He leaned into their touch even as he turned his face toward the stairs and raised his voice to a shout: "KEVIN! AARON! SOMEONE! NOW!"

"H-hey now, Andrew. Andrew, shh, it's okay. I'm okay, it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to be away this long."

"Shut up with your fucking 'sorry's Neil, I don't want your fucking 'sorry' - I want you here and alive and not dying in my goddamn arms I am NOT doing this with you, do you hear me junkie?"

Andrew felt like his entire system was in overdrive, his mind moving too fast and his nerve ending firing off in matching cylinders. They looked for Neil for months. And when they finally got a breakthrough via that fucking miserable twat Jean Moreau, it was only to find out that Neil was likely dead.

Those hands cupped his face, and even though they trembled against his cheeks he still touched Andrew like he was holding something incredibly precious. Something that needed care and protection lest it drop or be crushed.

"I promise, Drew. I did not drag myself halfway back around the world just to die in your arms."

"Do not even attempt to give me that, Neil. That is exactly the kind of dramatic shit you would do."

"Nah," Neil protested with a rough laugh. "Definitely more Aaron's thing. He's such a petty bitch."

"Fuck you," Andrew spat out, but a bubble of what might have bene a laugh caught in his chest. There were running footsteps coming their way, thundering down the steps and into the room.

"Andrew?! Andrew what-- oh my God. Oh my God. AARON GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Kevin was still shouting as he came to land beside the two of them, and Andrew almost pulled another knife and stabbed him in the fucking eye as he reached for Neil.

In fact, he didn't even realize he had drawn a knife until Kevin jerked back so suddenly he fell on his ass.

"Jesus! Andrew it's just me. He is covered in blood he needs a hospital!"

"It's mostly not mine," Neil chimed in as Andrew struggled to rein in the half-crazed beast that had taken over the arm not holding Neil. The monster inside him was in fits, and its growl was rumbling in Andrew's throat - kept in check only by the slow stroking of Neil's fingers down his jaw.

"Mostly not yours," Kevin echoed, and even through the haze of Andrew's protective rage, he could hear how dumbfounded the other man was.

"Mhm. And I stitched myself up already."

"Stitched yourself up," said Kevin. Then he looked toward the stairs and bellowed: "AARON!"

Neil sighed and the exasperation in that sound was so fucking familiar that it knocked the beast far enough off its temper for Andrew to take control again. He took a slow breath, then another. When Neil looked up at him again, Andrew asked, "Why? How?"

Neil grimaced. The expression must have been painful, Andrew realized as he watched him - because now that he was really looking he could tell that those new scars on his face were less 'scars' and more 'barely healed torture wounds'.

All Neil said was, "It's a long story."

As Aaron finally came half-falling down the steps on wobbly sea-legs, Andrew decided he would leave it be - for now.

The important thing was that Neil was here, Neil was alive, and nothing - fucking nothing - was going to take him away again.

#asks #AFTG prompts #aftg fanfic #aftg ficlet #andreil #reunion fic #mentions of blood #andrew minyard #neil josten #i have no idea what happened dont ask me lol #ask neil - hes the troublemaker #protective andrew minyard #hurt neil josten

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passionate-reply · 3 years

Video

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This week on Great Albums: one of my favourite “hidden gems” of the mid-1980s, Blancmange’s *Mange Tout* is about as extra and in-your-face as it gets, full of dense arrangements, gender-bending bombast, and musical instruments from Southern Asia.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! This time around, I’ll be taking a look at one of my favourite hidden gems from the mid-1980s, the sophomore LP of Blancmange, entitled Mange Tout.

Despite their relative obscurity today, particularly in comparison to many of their contemporaries, Blancmange weren’t total strangers to the pop charts. Their first full-length LP, 1982’s Happy Families, would yield the biggest hit of their career: “Living on the Ceiling,” which peaked at #7.

Music: “Living on the Ceiling”

While it never got to be a chart-topper, “Living on the Ceiling” is still an unforgettable track in its own ways. Perhaps its most distinctive feature is its use of the traditional Indian instruments, the sitar and tabla. While 80s synth-pop is certainly full of Orientalism, most of the references you’ll find are pointing to the Far East, and the perceived aesthetic sophistication and techno-utopian futurism of China and Japan. Aside from certain works of Bill Nelson, Blancmange were pretty much the only ones engaging with South Asian musical themes. Blancmange’s instrumentalist, Stephen Luscombe, grew up in London’s Southall neighbourhood, which had a high population of immigrants from Southern Asia, which led him to a lifelong interest in Indian music. Combined with electronics, it makes for a totally unique sound, which ends up sounding better in practice than it might in theory.

While any time White European musicians turn to alternative cultures as artistic tools, there’s a valid cause for some degree of criticism and concern, there’s also an artsy, left-field un-hipness about Blancmange, who seemingly drew from Indian music not only alone, but purely for sonic enjoyment. Unlike the exotic fantasies spun by groups like Japan, none of Blancmange’s songs seem propelled by any specific idea or ideology about India, but rather seem to tackle common pop themes of love and heartbreak against a seemingly *non sequitur* musical backdrop. While we, as listeners, might have strong associations with particular sounds, this is ultimately more cultural than innate, and there’s really no reason why a composition with Indian instruments must revolve around some theme of “Indian-ness”; it isn’t like people in India don’t also fall in love. However you feel about these influences, the role of Indian instruments is only increased on Mange Tout, where they appear on multiple tracks, including the album’s most successful single, “Don’t Tel Me.”

Music: “Don’t Tell Me”

On Mange Tout tracks like “Don’t Tell Me,” not only do the instruments return, but so do the session musicians who had performed on “Living on the Ceiling”: Deepak Khazanchi, on sitar, and Pandit Dinesh, on the percussion instruments tabla and madal. “Don’t Tell Me” is a track with a lot of pop appeal, lightweight and singable, which makes it a bit surprising that it was actually the final single released from the album. It certainly impresses me that Blancmange managed to create such bubbly and finely tuned pop, given that neither of their core members came from any formal or technical background: Luscombe had had a history in avant-garde music ensembles, and vocalist Neil Arthur became interested in music via the DIY culture of punk. Their first-ever release, the 1980 EP Irene & Mavis, sounds more like Throbbing Gristle than Culture Club, but they somehow managed to arrive at something quite sweet and palatable in the end. That said, it’s also possible for sweet to eventually become too sweet--and this line is provoked on the album’s divisive second single, “That’s Love, That It Is.”

Music: “That’s Love, That It Is”

In contrast to the lighter “Don’t Tell Me,” “That’s Love, That It Is” is utterly bombastic, with a vicious intensity. The instrumentation and production style is dense to the point of being borderline overwhelming. By this point in his life, Stephen Luscombe had recently discovered that he was gay, and his time spent in nightclubs that catered to the gay community provided another pillar of Blancmange’s signature sound: the influence of the queer disco tradition, which is almost certainly the source of this tightly-packed instrumental arrangement style. Blancmange never seem to be mentioned in the same breath as other stars of queer synth-pop like Bronski Beat, Soft Cell, and the Pet Shop Boys, presumably due to the combination of their overall obscurity and the fact that Luscombe was never the face of their band, but I see no reason not to include them in the same pantheon of camp. Speaking of queerness, it’s also worth noting how Blancmange played with gender, particularly on their cover of “The Day Before You Came.”

Music: “The Day Before You Came”

A solid eight years before Erasure’s iconic Abba-Esque, Blancmange offered their own interpretation of an ABBA classic with “The Day Before You Came.” In their hands, it’s a languid dirge, and a meditation on quotidian miseries for which the titular event seems to offer little respite. The unchanged lyrics, portraying the narrator working in an office and watching soap operas at night, are subtly feminine-coded, but the deep and unmistakably masculine voice of vocalist Neil Arthur seems to muddle those connotations. While it is a cover, I’m tempted to sort it into the same tradition as Soft Cell’s “Bedsitter” and the Pet Shop Boys’ “Left To My Own Devices,” as a work which musically elevates the everyday life of a campily self-obsessed character to the sort of melodrama the narrator perceives it to have.

I’ve spent a lot of time praising the instrumental side of their music so far, but it’s also true that Blancmange wouldn’t be Blancmange without Arthur’s contributions. The presence of his rough and untrained voice, with the added gruffness of a Northern accent, draws a line between these tracks and a typical pop production, and he sells us quite successfully on the gloomy, ominous feeling of tracks like “The Day Before You Came” and the album’s lead single, “Blind Vision.”

Music: “Blind Vision”

On the cover of Mange Tout, we find an assortment of seemingly unrelated items, which form a sort of graphic wunderkammer against a pale beige backdrop. Perhaps the best theme that could be assigned to them is that of travel--we see several means of transportation, such as a boat, a motorbike, and an airplane flying above a map, as well as items that can be taken as symbols of exotic locales, such as a North American cactus, and an elephant and Zulu nguni shield from Africa. Only the harp is clearly evocative of music itself--and this instrument won’t even be found on the album! The album’s title, “Mange Tout,” suggests that we are getting “full” Blancmange, or “all of” Blancmange. Taken together, the cover and title seem to imply that this album is stuffed to the brim, and contains a whole world of musical ideas. I would definitely agree that that’s a major motif of the album: it’s audacious, explosive, and free-wheeling. It very much feels like an album that was put together on the back of a first initial success, with a pumped-up budget and bold creative vision, and hence pulls no punches. Perhaps the most compelling feature of Mange Tout, and the primary reason I recommend this album so highly, is its unbridled enthusiasm for what it’s doing. Even in its ostensibly experimental moments, Mange Tout feels not like an album that is “trying” something, but rather one that boldly and assuredly proclaims the things it does, and embraces a kind of “more is more” maximalism.

In hindsight, it’s easy to see Mange Tout as the creative as well as commercial peak of Blancmange’s career. Their follow-up release, 1985’s Believe You Me, is far from the worst album I’ve ever heard, but it definitely doesn’t feel quite the same as the “classic” Blancmange works, adopting a more middle-of-the-road, radio-friendly synth-pop direction, with less of the South Asian influences and experimentation that really set them apart in the saturated synth-pop landscape. While not a work devoid of merit, Believe You Me was a relative commercial dud, and the duo would split soon after, chiefly citing personal and creative differences--though they did have a brief reunion in the early 2010s.

Music: “Lose Your Love”

My favourite track on Mange Tout is “All Things Are Nice,” which, alongside the neo-doo-wop “See the Train,” would be classed as one of the more experimental tracks on the album. Full of tension, “All Things Are Nice” alternates between eerily whispering vocals from Arthur, and a variety of samples from other media--which was still a relatively cutting-edge technique for the time. “All Things Are Nice” is almost certainly the most conceptual track on the album: as samples discuss world war, and Arthur whispers that “we can’t keep up with it,” the song is probably to be interpreted as a commentary on the runaway nature of technology and so-called “progress” in the modern age. The titular assertion that “all things are nice” seems to be ironic--or perhaps it embodies a sheer love of chaos and unpredictability, for their own sake, which would certainly fit the album’s mood. It also feels like it might be a sort of defense of the album itself: like I said, *Mange Tout* is serving us “all of Blancmange,” and isn’t it fun to get to have all of something? That’s everything for today--as always, thanks for listening!

Music: “All Things Are Nice”

#music #great albums #blancmange

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jemej3m · 4 years

Text

Dare You

anon asked:

If your still doing prompts... What about if Neil and Andrew are friends and Neil figures out that he likes Andrew and asks his friends how to woo him and then Andrew has to deal with Neil's terrible attempts at wooing. But everything neils doing is the same thing that Andrews been doing but in his own way? Idk, the idea just won't leave me alone and I'd love to see how amazing you could write it. Love your writing besides, it always makes my day :)

also on ao3!!

Neil and Andrew had been friends for 5 years when they have their first kiss.

The context? Neil’s small-town friends had all found themselves at the same university. Obviously, they banded together. Obviously, there were parties. Neil’s not a party person himself, but he loved his eclectic family and wanted spend time with them whenever he could. He’d moved to Palmetto when he was 13 with his mother, and as the youngest of the group, watched as the rest of them moved on from middle school to high school, and then from high school to college.

But now they were all back together again.

Thus developed his (mild) enjoyment of Allison or Nicky’s chaotic fiascos, which were technically parties, just lacking any rhyme or reason.

Andrew wasn’t a party person either: in high school, he, Neil and Renee would have movie nights instead, waiting for the rest of them to stumble home in drunken stupors.

He still tagged along to these gatherings, though. Maybe because Neil and Renee were now commonly in attendance. Neil didn’t think that Andrew would come just for Neil, but he hadn’t worked out why Andrew had become so inclined to participate. Maybe because Aaron was there, and they were trying to patch things up with one another. Their mother’s accident had really put a rift between them.

“Are you playing?” Allison demanded. “Neil, you’re playing. Renee’s managed to convince Andrew to play, so you’re playing.”

“Fine,” Neil mused, mostly to appease the inebriated monster that Allison was. No attention was paid to him in these drinking games, mostly because he didn’t drink, but also because he didn’t do anything too unreserved.

“Great!” she cheered, slinging an arm around his shoulder and brought him to the circle. He automatically took his seat next to Andrew, and felt his friend lean closer.

Friend was a loose term. Neil and Andrew were almost attached at the hip: When Neil’s mom had died two years ago, Andrew snatched him away and got a spare mattress in his bedroom till Neil had enough money to afford rent somewhere. Andrew was the only one who knew every horrific detail of Neil’s violent childhood, and the only one who’d seen the scars left by his dead-beat dad. Neil was the only one who knew everything about Andrew, too.

“Spin the bottle, Allison?” Dan leered as the girl put an empty beer bottle in the centre of the circle. Everyone was there. “We’ve got family members here!” Aaron mimed a retching action as Nicky laughed, clapping loudly.

“It’s just to pick who has to do truth or dare,” Allison retorted, waving the bottle in Dan’s face. “You wanna go first, huh? I’ll pick out your dare for you, Wilds. A personal attribute!”

“No way,” Dan laughed, leaning back into Matt’s shoulder. The guy was half asleep: alcohol did that to him, sometimes.

“Fine, I’ll spin it,” Allison huffed. With a little too much vigour, she flicked the neck of the bottle, sending it spinning wildly.

And of course, it had to land on Neil.

“First of the night!” Nicky crowed.

“Neil’s just going to pick truth,” Allison complained. “And make us all sad.”

Neil grinned at her. “Not my fault you grew up in a guilded bubble.”

“Shut the fuck up. Choose!”

Neil hummed, cocking his head to the side.

“Don’t do something stupid,” Andrew warned under his breath.

“Dare,” Neil said.

“Here we go,” his best friend sighed.

“Fuck yeah,” Allison grinned. “What should we make you do, hm? We all know you can and will eat anything without even flinching, no clothes-off, no alcohol...”

“Maybe he should go try and steal something,” Kevin slurred. “He’s good at it. Fuckin’ hot-wired a car once, for the hell of it.”

“Fuck off, Kevin,” Neil managed, ignoring the incredulous looks that the others were giving him.

“When the hell did you manage that?” Dan demanded. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“He should kiss Andrew,” Matt mumbled, burrowing his face into the crook of Dan’s shoulder. No one heard him.

“We should see if he can jump from the dorm roof!”

“No,” Andrew said.

“He should shotgun three Caprisuns,”

“Too easy!”

“Fine, five!”

“He should kiss Andrew,” Matt repeated, sitting up and blinking the sleepiness away.

The circle grew quiet.

“Yeah,” Allison breathed, grinning wildly. She looked to Neil. “You’ve gotta kiss Andrew.”

Neil glanced at Andrew, whose gaze was hooded as he glared at the been in his hand.

“I’m not doing that if Andrew doesn’t want to,” Neil said.

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“See?” Allison said, gesturing wildly. “Pucker up, Josten.”

“Well, this isn’t how I expected this to go,” Neil muttered. Andrew looked up at him, something making his eyes sparkle. “Tonight, I mean.”

“Right,” Andrew said. “Well? Hurry up.”

Neil hadn’t kissed many people before. Andrew knew that all too well: he’d heard about all three of Neil’s dating disasters in meandering rants about expectations and Neil’s lack of interest in - well, anyone, really.

He was overthinking this. It was just a kiss.

“And no measly pecks, either!” Dan insisted.

Andrew didn’t care. It was just a kiss.

Neil felt all stiff and awkward, because he had no idea what he was doing, but it was fine, because Andrew was tilting his head and lifting up his hand to press his fingertips to Neil’s cheek, tilting up his chin a bit. Neil let him.

When Andrew drew back, all Neil could think was that his lips were so soft. So soft. Everything about the kiss had been feather light, which wasn’t like Andrew at all.

Neil learned new things about Andrew every day.

“Happy?” Andrew said, facing the circle once more. Allison was cheering as Nicky and Aaron gave each other all-knowing side eye: Dan was clapping, and Matt was looking right at Neil with his head tilted to the side. “Now: go pick on someone else.”

“Someone your own size, might you say?” Nicky teased. Andrew flipped him off.

It had been a nice kiss, Neil thought. He didn’t know Andrew could kiss like that.

“You with us, Neil?”

Neil glanced up and found everyone looking at him. “Yeah? Why?” He frowned. “Did it land on me again?” Did he have to kiss Andrew again? He didn’t want to: not in front of everyone, at least.

Wait, what?

“You’ve been spared for now,” Allison grinned. Neil flipped her off.

And that was Andrew and Neil’s first kiss.

Neil burst into Matt and Kevin’s dorm room - obviously, he and Andrew shared one, and Aaron was in the fancy dormitory for academic scholarship students - in a small frenzy.

“Hey,” he told Kevin, who was sitting on his bed minding his own business. “Fuck off.”

Kevin glared at him. “You realise this is my room?”

Matt took off his headphones, looking over his shoulder from the tiny desk he’d crammed in at the end of his bed. It was comedically small in comparison with his gargantuan frame.

“Please?” Neil begged. “I need to talk to Matt.”

“Why can’t I hear it?” Kevin demanded. “I’ve literally known you longer than anyone else. We used to watch each other shit in toddler potties, Neil.”

That was true. Still, Neil needed Matt, his not-childhood friend.

“Dude,” Matt said. “Neil and I are bros. Somethings are just bro to bro. You talk to Andrew about shit you don’t talk to Neil about, yeah? Y’all are like brothers. That’s different from being bros.”

“None of that made sense,” Kevin muttered, packing up his shit. He glared at Neil. “I’ll be in the common room. You’re making up for this by editing my thesis.”

“Looking forward to it,” Neil said dryly, ushering Kevin out the door and leaning against it, feeling a little breathless.

Matt jumped onto his bed, patting the spot next to him. “Come hither, child.”

“I hate it when you say that,” Neil complained, dutifully crossing the tiny room and curling up into a ball on the mattress next to him. Matt patted him on the shoulder gently, though it still managed to send shocks right to his fingers and toes. Matt was just a big guy.

“What’s this all about?” Matt pushed, when Neil stayed in a curled ball.

Neil’s head flopped back, thudding against the wall. He swallowed, staring at the ceiling.

“I like Andrew.”

“Well, that’s good news,” Matt laughed.

“No, Matt.” Neil glared towards the window. “I think I’m in love with Andrew.”

“Yes,” Matt said earnestly. “I know.”

Neil’s neck nearly snapped what with how fast he looked at Matt. “What?”

His friend snorted. “Dude, you’ve always been infatuated with him. We’re best friends, Neil. You and Kevin are best friends. Do you really want to go cuddling up with either of us, like you do with Andrew? Do you spend hours with either of us at a time, just talking? Do you dream about us? Have you told us everything about you?”

“How do you know I’ve done those things with Andrew?” Neil accused, even though he was completely right.

Matt shrugged. “That’s how I am with Dan.”

“We’ve cuddled,” Neil said weakly.

Matt slung his arm around Neil’s narrow shoulders. It was like wearing a blanket. “Hell yes, we have. But that’s not what I mean.”

“We don’t do that.”

“Head out of the gutter, bucko. Remember that photo Allison managed of the two of you? Asleep on the couch? You were literally asleep on Andrew’s chest: one of his legs was hooked over your hip. That’s some serious canoodling, bro.”

“You’ve analysed us that intensely,” Neil said flatly.

Matt snorted. “It’s kinda hard not to. You’re both all over each other. I’d say it’s sweet if it wasn’t, well, you and Andrew.”

“So if you knew I liked him,” Neil complained. “Why’d you dare me to kiss him? Now I’m aware of it, and I hate it!”

“That was kinda the point,” Matt admitted. “Why the hell do you hate it? Love is a good thing!”

“Need I remind you of my parents?”

Matt shoved him gently. “Don’t start pulling the parent card. Neil, you’ve loved Andrew for years. And - well, I can’t really read him, no one can - I think he likes you back.”

“He does not,” Neil insisted.

“He does!” Matt sung. “You know what you have to do now, Josten?”

“No,” Neil said, sullen.

“You’ve gotta woo him.”

“Here we go,” Neil mumbled.

Matt winked. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Andrew will be head over heels for you in no time.”

“So,” Neil said, sitting on his bed. Andrew was reading a book, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He only wore them in their room, even though everyone knew Aaron had reading glasses and thus Andrew would have to wear them too. He had his armbands off and a pair of knitted socks on. Neil had become so keenly aware over everything that constituted of Andrew recently: it was driving him up the wall.

Andrew looked at Neil from over his book. “What?”

Neil shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you want to go somewhere?”

Andrew glanced at his watch. “Now?”

Neil shrugged again.

“What’s this about?” Andrew asked, sitting up.

“Nothing!” Neil stressed. “Just thought it might be good to - get out?”

“It’s a Tuesday evening,” Andrew said flatly.

Neil deflated. “We don’t have to go.”

Andrew sighed. “Fine.” Neil perked up. “Where did you want to go?”

Neil hadn’t thought that far ahead. “David’s?”

“David’s,” Andrew repeated. “Neil, you don’t like diner food.”

“Well, now I do!” He really needed to stop the hiccups in his voice. Stuffing his feet into his shoes, he yanked on his coat and shoved his keys and phone into his pocket.

“Now I’m even more suspicious,” Andrew said, watching Neil’s erratic behaviour with mild amusement. “You’ve never willingly taken that phone with you unless I forcefully reminded you too.”

He needed it to text Matt. “We all learn and grow,” he said breezily, escaping out the door. “Hurry up, I want coffee!”

“It’s nearly fucking midnight,” Andrew growled.

He skipped ahead till he arrived at the dorm’s parking lot: Andrew’s was in the corner, where it couldn’t be scratched. After his mother’s death he’d used his portion of her life insurance to buy the thing, but it hadn’t got him more than a heap of junk. He’d spent a whole summer fixing it up: Neil had watched him from the corner of his garage, a little mesmerised.

Fuck, he liked Andrew so much. He could hardly contain it within himself.

He switched the radio to Andrew’s favourite channel as they drove to David’s, an old diner on the corner of campus. It was run by a grouchy old man by the name of David Wymack, hence the name. He served the only pancakes Andrew would speak well of, and sometimes Neil could withstand the fruit smoothies.

Andrew glanced over at Neil at the music choice - Neil almost always usually bickered with him about playing heavy rock when it got past 9 o’clock - but said nothing, continuing to drive.

There was almost no one in David’s when they arrived, even though he usually shut at one. Neil was relieved for that: he didn’t feel like anyone watching him as he failed miserably at wooing Andrew Minyard.

Andrew got his pancakes and Neil decided to try the blueberry smoothie, sans ice cream.

“What is wrong with you,” Andrew muttered.

It clearly wasn’t going well. Neil grimaced and shrugged. “Dunno.”

Andrew squinted at him. “Are you upset?”

“What? No!”

“Can you bozos stop wasting my time?” Wymack huffed.

“Fuck you too, old man,” Andrew said. Wymack flipped him off and proceeded to put an extra scoop of ice-cream onto Andrew’s plate. Their relationship was baffling, especially after Andrew worked the summer here with Renee.

They sat at a corner table, a little ceramic jug with plucked daisies plonked in the centre of the red-and-white chequered table cloth.

“You seem jittery,” Andrew said.

“I’m fine,” Neil managed. Andrew reached out with his hand under the table to stop Neil’s leg from bouncing. The heat from his palm was addictive. Neil made a strange squawking noise, and Andrew immediately withdrew his hand.

“You’re fine,” Andrew repeated.

“Yup,” Neil insisted. Andrew’s pancakes arrived, so Neil tried to distract himself from the ruffled blonde hair and pale eyelashes and the freckles on his nose, sipping at the smoothie. Neil didn’t know what to do with that information. It was quite unnerving.

They were done by half-past-twelve, when Andrew decided to get up and leave without warning. Neil - in a moment’s panic - took one of the daisies from the jug and hopped up after him.

Andrew was leaning against his car door, lighting up two cigarettes. Moonlight shone down, curling in his hair and curving across his jaw. Neil found himself a little star struck.

Andrew offered up the second cigarette and Neil took it from between his fingers with his lips, like he usually did. This time all he could notice was how close it put them, and the shape of Andrew’s lips. Now Neil knew what they felt like, too.

This is ridiculous, Neil thought.

“Why are you holding a flower?” Andrew asked.

Neil looked down to where the daisy rested in his palm. He brought it up and tucked it behind Andrew’s ear. The tips of Andrew’s ears went very pink: he had to be warm in that large sweater of his.

“Don’t know,” Neil answered truthfully, looking at where the daisy drooped down over the shell of Andrew’s ear.

“Okay,” Andrew managed, though his voice was a bit strained. What if he was allergic to daisies? No, that was ridiculous. Neil would know if he was allergic to daisies.

They finished their cigarettes in the quiet. Everything was so muddled. Neil just wanted it to go back to normal. And yet: he wanted to kiss Andrew.

Fucking hell, he thought.

“Back to the drawing board,” Neil announced, bursting into Matt’s dorm room again. Kevin wasn’t there, thankfully.

Matt arched his brow. “Huh?”

“Date and flowers didn’t work. What the hell do I do?”

His friend hummed. “What about gifts? Is there something you could give him that’s romantic?”

“He likes chocolate?” Neil hedged.

“Could work,” Matt acknowledged. “Or, you know, we could make him jealous.”

“Absolutely not,” Neil grimaced.

“Just a thought.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Neil groaned, sinking into a puddle on the floor.

The door opened as Kevin stepped through. He didn’t even pause, stepping right over where Neil had melted onto the floor.

“Don’t mind him,” Matt acknowledged.

Neil made an exasperated noise.

“Have you always been so dramatic?” Kevin acknowledged.

“Maybe you could recite a monologue to him,” Matt suggested.

Kevin frowned. “Who?”

Before Neil could shush him, Matt sung out “Andrew!” with a cheerful smile.

Kevin signed. “Fucking finally. Everyone’s been waiting years for the two of you to sort yourselves out.”

“What?” Neil sat up. “Are you serious?”

Kevin shrugged. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Neil groused.

“He’s trying to woo Andrew into liking him back,” Matt informed Kevin.

Kevin frowned. “Why don’t you just tell him that you like him?”

“Because that’s mortifying?”

“You’re such a horribly adjusted human being,” Kevin muttered.

“He’s kinda right,” Matt acknowledged. “I just kept asking Dan on dates till she accepted.”

“No,” Neil hoisted himself to his feet. “I’ll figure it out. It won’t have to come to that.” He glared at both of them. “Thanks for nothing. Neither of you know anything about relationships.”

“We are both in committed, loving, long-term partnerships,” Kevin pointed out.

“Love you too!” Matt called as Neil stomped out.

Neil eventually developed a checklist.

Spontaneous midnight date? Nope. Flowers? Definitely a no. Making him a mixtape? Not the right decade.

Accompanying him places definitely didn’t work: Neil was late to all his classes for a week. Cooking for two also didn’t work, seeing as the only thing Neil could cook was 2 Minute Noodles.

Chocolates was a moderate success, but it probably didn’t help the wooing cause. It didn’t help that they roomed together: Neil didn’t get much time to scheme, because neither of them were social butterflies, and their dorm room was their safe space.

The only thing he thought could’ve been counted a success was when they decided to rewatch the last two Harry Potter movies together: Andrew yanked Neil over to his bed and they nestled into the corner to watch the films from Andrew’s laptop. Neil was so consumed by the thought kiss him kiss him kiss him that he barely registered either of the films.

One month passed since Neil’s epiphany, then one and a half: It even got too the point that Neil jostled Andrew’s shoulder at another of Allison’s ‘parties’ and said “Remember the last time she made us participate?” to which Neil only received an odd look and stale silence.

He also tried to rig one of Allison’s silly games, giving Andrew a piece of paper that asked do you like someone? Andrew set the thing on fire with his lighter, and the dormitory nearly had to be evacuated.

Neil was beginning to lose hope.

“You upset, Neil?” Renee asked, dropping into the chair next to him. He was studying in the library, one of the few places he knew Andrew wouldn’t follow.

“Hi, Renee,” Neil said, sullen.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She twisted herself around to face him. “What’s up?”

“Can’t talk to you about it,” Neil mumbled, resting his head on his folded arms and glaring at the table.

“You know,” Renee said, slightly amused. “I overheard something about someone being interested in Andrew recently.”

Neil sat up. “You did? Who?” He’d fight them. Not that he was possessive, or jealous.

Renee laughed. “You, silly.”

Neil deflated. “Does everyone know? I feel like I was the last one to figure it out.”

Renee patted his shoulder gently. “Almost the last one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Andrew doesn’t know.”

“Good,” Neil huffed out. “That’d be embarrassing.”

Renee shook her head.

“He’s never going to like me back,” Neil mumbled. “I’ve been trying so hard, but he won’t notice.”

“He did mention you were acting odd, recently,” Renee acknowledged.

Neil huffed. “Yeah, well. There’s no point in keeping it up, is there? Not if nothing will happen.”

“You know,” she said. “I always found clarity in honesty.” With that, she winked and slid off her stool. “See you around, Neil.”

“Yeah,” Neil muttered. “See you.”

Neil dressed quickly in the shower stall and hooked his towel over his shoulder, carrying his small caddy back to his room. He was wearing old pyjamas: fire-engine truck flannels with one of Matt’s oversized (or normal sized, for him) hoodies that went all the way to his fingertips. He shook out his wet hair as he traversed from the bathroom back to his dorm room and shouldered his way in, the door unlocked. That meant Andrew was back.

And back, Andrew was: facing the wall, he was tugging off a turtleneck sweater and yanking on a t-shirt that Neil recognised as his: he’d already changed into grey sweats that were too long for him, hanging around the ankles.

Neil slowly put his soap back onto his little shelf, hanging his towel on a wall hook. Andrew glanced over his shoulder at him, acknowledging Neil’s presence, before going back to unpacking from his day and readying for bed.

Neil felt sucker-punched.

“Andrew?”

He glanced back again, brows furrowing at Neil’s strange tone. “What?”

When Neil couldn’t answer, he dropped what he was doing and came closer. His fingers curled in Neil’s collar, tugging him closer.

“You’re pale as shit,” he commented. “Are you going to collapse?”

“I’m already falling,” Neil joked weakly.

“What?”

Andrew stepped back. Dammit, Neil thought. “What the hell is going on, Neil? You’ve been acting fucking weird for ages, now.”

“I really like you,” Neil breathed out.

Andrew froze.

“I wasn’t meant to say that,” Neil bit out, folding his arms over his chest. “But I can’t get over it. Ever since we kissed I’ve been kinda losing my mind, and everyone’s told me I’ve liked you for years -”

“Shut up,” Andrew said fiercely, stomping right up into Neil’s space, crowding him against the door.

“Um,” Neil mumbled, blinking.

“You’re the worst,” Andrew hissed. “You’ve been doing all this shit because you like me? I thought you were working up to telling me you were leaving!”

“What?” Neil echoed.

“Shut up,” Andrew complained. “You’re the fucking worst. I hate you.”

And then he kissed him. Andrew kissed Neil, that is. It was definitely one of the best moments of Neil’s life, which wasn’t saying much, considering his track record. Still, Neil’s fingers spread out across Andrew’s shoulder blades as his hands grasped Neil’s jaw, kissing him for real, this time.

Neil had been right: it was definitely better when there was no one else watching.

Andrew’s shoulders were hunched over when he fell back, pressing his forehead to Neil’s shoulder.

“You like me?” Neil asked, voice higher and breathier than he thought he could manage. “Since when?”

“I hate you,” Andrew retorted. Then, quieter, he said: “Since forever.”

Neil’s hands pressed him closer: this wasn’t unfamiliar, the proximity, Andrew’s touch, breath wafting over bare skin. But the warmth encompassing it made sense now.

“Okay,” he said. And then: “Me too.”

“Were you trying to woo me with 2 Minute Noodles?” Andrew inquired.

“No,” Neil said sheepishly.

Andrew shook his head, tilting Neil’s head down for another kiss. Then he signed against Neil’s lips. “I hate you. So much.”

Neil grinned.

HEEHEEE

#wow #nice prompt anon!#that was fun #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #all for the game #no exy au #college au #friends to lovers #truth or dare #andrew the whole time: im going to pretend that hes doing this because he likes me and im going to enjoy it #the foxes #matt boyd #an honorary mention #the foxhole court #jem writes

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akegatacchi · 4 years

Text

Sense8 AU!aftg

In the honor of absolutlynothing I’ve decided to put out there one of the many au I have on my phone and archive it there

Big shout out to @a-m-peengoo and @bluesuederose for participating in this mess with genius lines and always be there to bear my 36 ideas per hour. We did a masterpiece girls.

Here we go it’s gonna be long

The cluster:

Kevin: Nomi. He’s just a fuckin hacker who’s running away from his family (riko). When he’s bored, he spends nights crashing the Pentagon system for fun, and makes every screen in the White House play Best Exy Actions Compilation (the longest and hardest part is choosing one compilation to play).

Dan: Will. One of them have to keep them under control. Plus, Dan with a gun i can’t even-

Matt: Riley. Soft, blue strand of hair, a heart of gold, maternal. As a DJ. Yes. SO SOFT (he still knows how to box)

Allison: Capheus. Listen. Imagine Allison in high heels, skin tight leather pants, driving a bus. Also, a F1 pilot champion who can drive anything (even if it’s the first time)

Andrew: Wolfgang. Duh. Do I need to explain myself. Just think abt him saying “This is Berlin. Those are my people. And we go to our knees for no one”.Boy he does NOT like this situation, at all. Will keep the others out with sheer willpower and no blockers. The cluster’s deadliest weapon. PLUS HELLO???? ANDREW IN A PASTEL PINK BOMBER SHOOTING ON A HELICOPTER WITH A BAZOOKA????

Aaron: Felix? Sorta? not a senseate but a great doctor. Senses bullshit and when someone is in Andrew’s body real quick (Andrew: says more than 2 sentences and is pleasant. Aaron:.....who’s that bitch where is my brother) . Later helps to manufacture blockers.

Neil: Kala. A pharmacist that uses his skill for arson and may or may not be running away from mafia/family matter and currently hiding in India. Him saying “Bring it, bitch” to Riko is my sexuality and Andrew’s. Can create explosives from a Fanta can and spices I mean it’s already canon in aftg. (plus andreil would work even better bc technically Neil can’t even touch Andrew for real)

Nicky: Lito. The drama, the sass. Also the scene where he discovers the Twinyard in Germany are his cousins would be hilarious. The scene where Lito seduces the nurse but with Nicky (“engaging into heterosexual activity? me????”) or the scene where Lito screams in the museum but with Nicky

Erik as Hernando. That’s it that’s the post.

Renee: Sun. I mean, a korean fighter lady in prison trying to be a better person and had a silent bffs relationship with a german gangster? Come on. Also. Allison in a bus and Renee doing art martials stuff.

Riko: whispers i guess he can eat Allison’s high heels

Now the ~scenes~ (it’s just shitposting):

Aaron, on the verge on several break downs: wait so you have like … DJ Blue Matt and F1 pilot Allison Reynolds in your head? since when? ANDREW SINCE WHE-

Neil: what’s a better use of a multiple thousands dollars education than precise arson?????

Aaron: why does your boyfriend always end up burning things up?

Andrew: he lits up my heart as well

Aaron: FOR FUCK SAKE

Kevin, shocked and betrayed: is there a better sport than exy?

Aaron and Allison: YEAH A REALLY GOOD CAR RACE

Allison: you’re - you’re like the spirit of Lucy Liu. In Charlie’s Angels. I watch it once a day. Renee:.....that’s sweet actually :)

Neil: does a molotov cocktail

Matt: I tHoUgHt yOu wErE a PhArMaCiSt

Neil: Yes? That’s PHYSICS

Matt: no that’s ARSON NEIL

Alternative:

Kevin: breaks into the Pentagon virtually

Neil: breaks into the Pentagon physically

Matt, again: i thought you were a PHARMACIST!!!! Neil: Yes I am??? That’s irrelevant

A senseate sibling, escaping, grabbing a vehicle at random: someone knows how to drive that?

Allison, in stilettos : no, but I sure will soon

Just Allison driving Renee around to fight people

Everytime someone mocks a senseate sibling Neil or Nicky shows up to roast them. Sometimes they do it both at the same time. It’s apocalyptic. The sass. The drama.

They can also bullshit their way out of any situation. Neil is such a smooth liar and Nicky is just ridiculous. The FBI agent charged to arrest them somehow ends up crying abt childhood trauma while hugging a teddy bear.

Neil, caught in the act of making a string of explosives by the FBI guy: uuuuuuh….Nicky?

Nicky, currently dealing with a white mom in retail: somehow convince the FBI to buy christmas lights

(Yes Nicky works in retail bc his family cut ties with him but he hopes to be an actor.ON BROADWAY)

(From retail to actor to cluster negotiator real quick)

A fuckin moron to Allison: a hottie like you driving a bus? what is this, hooker on wheels?

Neil: please let me have this one

Allison: seats back and enjoys Neil roasting him

Nicky: brings the popcorn

Nicky, to the FBI guy: You can’t arrest me Daryl I’m your long lost little brother

The FBI guy, a white man: My name is not Daryl Neil: THAT’S WHAT THEY WANT YOU TO BELIEVE

The FBI guy, texting Neil (don’t ask): I guess I’m still in love with my ex

Nicky: aaaaaw we have to help this sweetheart

Neil: do you want me to burn his current boyfriend’s car, buddy?

(Nicky: DON’T REMIND HIM THAT HE’S SUPPOSED TO ARREST US)

A fuckin homophobe: ready to get your ass kicked, faggot?

Andrew: appears through Nicky

Nicky, smiling: fuck yeah, baby

Andrew, between two bazooka shot, to Neil: we’re nothing

Nicky, through Andrew, all cheery: Hi!!!! :D

(Aaron jumps like a scared cat)

Andrew: ready to kill ppl for mafia business

All the senseate siblings in the back minus Renee, eating popcorn and enjoying the show: Kick ass, Drew!

Andrew, on the hospital bed: has an emotional moment with Aaron

Aaron: sir or ma'am, idk who you are but it’s family only, I will ask you, as his doctor, to leave my brother’s body

Aaron: Andrew is2g if you’re making psychic love to that fuckin red hair rn i will-

Andrew each time a senseate is hurt: Aaron it’s for you

(Just Aaron doing med tutorials for a whole cluster while Andrew repeats it with a bored tone to everyone)

(Aaron, sighs: it is Neil again? Just let him bleed for a few minutes)

Neil, making bomb with kitchen stuff: If it means losing you then no

Andrew, falling in love: oh

Bad guy: You have no weapon, blondie!

Allison, with Renee and Dan behind her: Think again, sweetheart

They made a little “honorary cluster member” badge to Aaron (he does not cry STFU NEIL)

Dan and Neil both knows by heart the laws of different countries…..for very different reasons.

Luther: humiliates Nicky once again

Renee: calmly breaks his hand at dinner while smiling like an angel, all the while stopping Andrew from killing him with the other hand

Neil, a pharmacist: blowing shit up and arson

Aaron, a doctor, watching him: yk what hold my beer I know several ways to stop a man’s heart

The whole “You don’t know how to use a gun” “No, but you do” with andreil or matt and dan

Just Drew and Renee kicking some mafia asses together as buddies

(While Neil blows some shit up in the background and Allison/Nicky cheer)

Matt has the perfect ear too

Him and Kevin are the remote operation/communication team but one day all the fighters/criminals of the cluster are busy so they both start to fight as well and fuck they are good at it

Nicky: I expected this from Biceps Matt but Kevin??? You can land a kick like that???

Kevin, outraged: I WENT TO THE EXY OLYMPICS WHEN I WAS 16

Speaking of Kevin, they all call him “nerd” or “einstein”

Allison: so the nerd can fight uh

Aaron, counting down on his fingers: so you have F1 Pilot Superstar Allison Reynolds, former gold medalist and tech genius Kevin Day, a human diapason, a multilingual arsonist, World no.1 Taekwondo Champion Renee Walker, a cop, an actor…..what are you there for??

Andrew, literally a mafia king:....ice cream and crime?

Neil to Andrew, after the whole debacle with his father is out: You did know there were mafia out of Germany too, right?

Andrew: I can’t even have that for myself fuck this family

Dan, every time before each “mission”: okay guys I know we need to do it but I’d like to remind ALL of you *looks pointly at Neil and Andrew* it’s STILL illegal and morally dubious

Neil: …….like I said to Nicky, irrelevant *without missing a beat blows up the entire building and puts on stolen Gucci shades*

Alternative:

Neil: ok saint theresa why were you the one to suggest we explode Riko’s brain off then

Dan: ...don’t turn the conversation around me it’s about you

Allison “guess we’re detourning a place next” Reynolds and Kevin “It’s not that hard to pilot” Day

(Kevin: But why are you on a plane to Russia? I thought you were in India last time?

Neil:....don’t ask)

Aaron to Andrew, where they are trapped and betrayed: your boyfriend wouldn’t happen to know how to poison a whole room with gaz?

Neil: I was born for this moment

(Andrew: just bc you’re my brother doesn’t mean you have the right to dirty talk my boyfriend)

Andrew: be gay, do crime and eat ice cream

Nicky: AND BLOW NEIL’S D-

(before they know abt Neil’s past, when Andrew is angsty bc he caught feelings)

Andrew: You shouldn’t get close to me, it’s dangerous, i’m mafia

Neil: oh haven’t you heard-

Jeremy, bouncing out of nowhere: Hey Kev ! Love how you BI-nary code ahah have you heard of the ARCHIPELAGO

Neil, sipping tea: so my father is the Butcher

Matt: okokokok coolcoolcoolcool yk what arson doesn’t sound like a bad idea after all

(this one is not funny sorry) but Neil taking over each time someone is hurt bc he is used to deal with it

“Give the pain to me”

Andrew and Aaron like to fuck around a lot with the whole sensate stuff (since only one of them is a sensate)

Bad guy: only one of you is a sensate, which one is it?

Twinyard, in a perfect and flat tone: try to guess

A bad guy is spying on Andrew and waiting to kill him in Germany, via a cam, thinking he’s safe BUT SUPRISE MOTHERFUCKER it was aaron dressed as Andrew in a mafia meeting and now you have to deal with a 5 feet tall mafia boy

For real tho they are a little protective of the normal doctor who heal them every time (yes even Neil but don’t tell him) so you bet something like that happens one day:

Aaron: comes home from work angry

Andrew, cleaning up blood or counting money: whassup shithead?

Aaron: There’s this older doctor he’s great and all but he’s a fuckin asshole to me he belittles me everyday bc i’m young and we lost a patient today bc he rathers humiliate me than let me save him

Andrew, a dangerous glint in his eyes and a whole cluster behind him: oh?

Kevin, opens his computer and digs up dirt on him: give me a sec

Allison: I can roll over him with my truck

Neil: there is so many ways to mix two meds and kills him ON ACCIDENT

Dan: let’s see how he deals in prison

Nicky: oh this is going to be fun

Kevin, reciting facts like he’s reading a grocery list: so yeah he smuggles meds from the hospital so local drug dealers, illegally sells meds for himself on the black market, does tax evasion, is friend with a local senator and both of them are involved with minors….i have already several reservation at X hotel btw and cases of work harassment on nurses and interns, threats to others older doctors in serve, and OH. OH. We have a spanking kink on our hands too.

Every members of the cluster, turning to Nicky and Neil:....go wild

Nicky, giggling: not that’s it’s a shame when it’s consensual but not here so - let’s start with the spanking :D

Neil: Can I make him cry

No violence is used but the doctor is found on the floor drowning in his own tears after a few minutes and after an hour he’s resigned and leaving the country

Andrew was dressed as Aaron for that (that being: smuggling Neil and Nicky into the hospital to meet the doctor through him) and sends him a selfie of a 5 feet surgeon and the man crying on the floor

It’s their best memory as a family (Aaron hates Neil a little less after that)

Neil to Nicky: why did you stop me from pushing towards suicide??? He’s gonna do that in another country

(Kevin: no if I can help it)

Nicky: bc we don’t do that to people!

Neil, Andrew, Aaron, Allison:...........right

Neil: killing even indirectly is no good but destroying their life and humiliating them publically is good?

Nicky: YES!

Matt and Dan: WAIT NO

(Allison: don’t brother Neil you’ll just hurt your head)

(Neil, close to tears: but...but...but arson?? Andrew, with knives out: alright fuckers who broke his heart?)

Matt and Dan bc they’re fuckin weak to Neil: ITS OK BUDDY ARSON IS GOOD

I have to end on this note:

Storyline wise, Neil would have make the perfect Wolfgang too….if Wolfgang was a twink.

#aftg #the foxhole court #tfc #andreil #hc #hcs #headcanon #headcanons #sense8 au #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #dan wilds #matt boyd #reene walker #allison reynolds #kevin day #nicky hemmick #all for the game

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artemismoon12writes · 4 years

Text

Title: Windsor Throws a Party (and Stuart is Technically Invited)

Daltonfic Big Bang; Week 4, Day 2; Spin the Bottle/Truth or Dare

“That’s the spirit! The rest of you should take notes.” “It’s educational.” “Isn’t that what we’re in school for?” “The youth of tomorrow, learning tolerance one day at a time.”

The party might have gotten out of control. Perhaps. A smidge.

If you asked the twins, they had invited everyone on campus. There would be no one to drag them into Dean Ramsey’s office this year. If Logan wanted to complain about it, he could simply check his email for the invitation which came 2 minutes after they’d started up the music anyways. If he didn’t check his email, who were they to insist he came?

Besides that, they had made sure through word of mouth that some Stuarts did represent amongst the Windsor common room- if only to be used as a shield against the authorities at large. Ethan and Evan’s ‘secret stash’ was snuck throughout the house, and like fairy food, once you unknowingly partook you could not leave and work against them.

Kurt thought it was evil. Shane thought it was brilliant. But then again, Kurt hadn’t approved of much they did these days, working as the implementor of much of Blaine’s beleaguering prefect work. It didn’t mean he was going to shut down this party- rather, try to keep the freshman away from the “powdered sugar” on top of the doughnuts in the kitchen.

“Who invited Dobry?” A voice called from the top of the stairs, noticing the girls trickling into the common room.

“Not me!” Wes answered, trying to look innocent. “I’m not trying to get us in trouble after Katherine and the BBQ incident.”

“Don’t worry, Wes, we’ll vouch for you when campus security comes to kick us out.” Katherine said, kissing his cheek and crossing the room to join David on the makeshift dance floor.

It was a Dalton party. You couldn’t keep the freshman out anymore than you could keep the Dobry girls out it seemed. Lucy Westwood gave the cameras around the common room a good natured gesture, rude though it may be to her reclusive brother who refused to join them. Clay and Kaelan, their newest recruits into Windsor madness thought it was hilarious.

“You’re not scared he’ll do something to your Facebook?” Clay asked, buzzing despite Kurt steering him away from any of the Twins’ snacks.

Lucy looked at the freshman like he was nuts, “With all the blackmail I have on my brother dear, I don’t think so.”

“Wow, you’re so cool.” Clay said, wide-eyed as she flounced off in her four-inch pastel Mary-Janes. Kaelan knocked his shoulder to get him to pay attention to the Hanovers who were challenging them to table tennis with baseballs.

Across the room, a corner had already grown, with the twins in charge of the madness pulling people in as they tried to pass to go to the bathroom. You would not be released until you spun the bottle of Armagnac (emptied for this purpose).

“This is stupid.” Blaine said, roped into the circle of half-sober and mostly-high students.

“Oh stop being a wet blanket Anderson.” Adriana, one half of the warped mirror image Dobry had of the Brightmans, insisted. “Either spin, or go in a plant.”

“I am not going to the bathroom in the ferns…” Blaine said, horrified.

His boyfriend snorted, already captured into the circle. “I don’t know Blaine, these guys can’t take care of the ferns anyways.”

“We got Mom on board! Yeah!” Clay was hushed up again by Sara Tomlin, covering his mouth like she’d practiced it on her own freshman.

Blaine, reluctantly was forced to sit through the turns of Jeff and Lucy, tiny Regina Warburton and Brennan, and the catcalls of Derek Seigerson’s ex-girlfriend making a point to kiss Sadie Moore far longer than necessary.

“Wow, Casey, didn’t pick you for the other team.” Jackie said, nudging the Prima with her foot.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? It’s just a game. Duh.” Casey tossed her hair over her shoulder, winking at Sadie from across the circle. “How can I refuse an audience?”

“That’s the spirit Lambert!” Ethan and Evan chorused. “The rest of you should take notes.”

“It’s educational.”

“Isn’t that what we’re in school for?”

“The youth of tomorrow, learning tolerance one day at a time.” Ethan sighed, leaning against his brother’s shoulder dramatically, waving his hand at the circle.

Blaine rolled his eyes; trying to ignore Kurt and Reed’s laughter, or Shane’s giant smile at him.

Sebastian Smythe, there on the insistence of the Twins for the amount of chaos he’d already been causing in Stuart, passed by the circle with a bottle he dropped into Thad’s lap. “You guys are so boring. At least make it a drinking game.”

“If we’re so boring, why don’t you join?” Blaine accused.

Sebastian scoffed, “I already did my part. Ask your little scientist.”

Satoru blushed from across the circle, sitting next to Drew who just laughed. Thad took a fortifying swig from the bottle Sebastian had left them. He looked to be praying he’d get a girl; but the twins could be known to play tricks at parties like this.

“It was a good spin.” Neil confirmed, getting a shove from Satoru; who didn’t need reminding why his knees were tucked up to his chin.

“I bid you all a due.” Sebastian teased, with that faux-french accent of his lingering in their ears.

“Come back, it’s more fun with you in.” Alessio called, already a little more than drunk and finished with his own spin. Mika’d let him off easy when he started to try and pet her hair during the kiss.

“Let it go.”

It was Shane’s turn next, landing on Adriana Brightman. He frowned for a moment. “I can re-spin right?”

“Of course you c-” Blaine started before the chorus of “NO!”s made him jump. He looked around, shocked to see even Reed insisting on no re-spins. Reed?

“It’s unfair! You don’t get to pick! You spin, you kiss!” Casey insisted.

“Kiss! Kiss!” Nadia tried to get them to chant before collapsing into giggles against Alexandra’s shoulder.

“Coward!” Andriana challenged, hands on her hips. “I betcha can’t!”

Shane frowned. “I can!”

Reed giggled and pushed his boyfriend forward, “Do it!”

“Peer pressure, it works.” Evan commented, leaning forward with a devilish grin.

“They’re all so awful, I’m so proud.” Ethan continued.

Blaine glared, “Shut up you two, if he doesn’t want to-”

He didn’t get to finish because Reed and Andrea’s cheers cut him off. Shane broke away from Adriana, quickly enough some called foul, but he sat back on his feet and nodded proudly. “I’m no chicken!”

“There wasn’t even tongue!” Adriana complained.

“That’s optional.” Jackie shrugged. “Take it or leave it Brightman.”

“I am the greatest at this game!” Shane cheered; Reed patted his knee. “Yeah you are.”

Blaine would wonder why Reed was so supportive of this, until he saw the brownie crumbs littering the carpet around his brother and Reed. Ah, that’s what happened to Medel’s extra tray of brownies. Alright…

Next Neil O’Connor landed on Laura Bancroft, who took her kiss with the right amount of blustering embarrassment and confused elation- and then took Sadie out of the circle as they’d fulfilled their party duty. Dwight tried to escape the circle with them but was pulled back to Shane’s other side with a grunt. An attempt at good grace was made, failing when Laura could not clamber over the cross-legged group in a skirt without being a little awkward. Reed waved the two goodbye as they went to go bother Merril who had been avoiding that side of the room entirely.

“Can we get more Armagnac? Is that allowed?” Jackie asked.

“I’ll get some,” Blaine said about to get up before he was pulled back down.

“No way, you haven’t spun yet!” Ethan insisted.

“Fine! Then let me spin and leave!” Blaine insisted.

“Oh prefect, my prefect” Evan taunted. “It’s not nearly that easy!”

“He’s bringing the game down,” Andrea complained. “Let him spin and go.”

Blaine coloured, his cheeks heating up. “Uh-”

The chorus matched, and the bottle was passed to Blaine who twisted his wrist and prayed it didn’t land on Shane, or Reed, or-”

“Oliver?” Danny Abbot said, recently pulled into the circle.

“Wait, get the child out of here!”

“Who let Oliver sit here?”

Tiny Oliver Snow was promptly ejected from the circle; which they’d all been too out of it to notice he’d been in beforehand.

Drew shook his head, “God, I can’t believe Blaine was going to kiss the kid!”

“I was not going to kiss Oliver!”

“I guess you can have a resp-respe- new spin! That’s it- have one of those now.” Casey said, mocking in good fun, tips

The bottle spun again, this time to land on someone probably worse than Reed, but not as bad as Shane.

“Okay Anderson, you know half the girls in Dobry would kill to have your chance.” Casey laughed as Sara moved out of her spot to the centre of the circle.

“I’m gay!” Blaine insisted.

“And you spun in a co-ed circle.” Sara said, a hand’s length away from his face. The catcalls mostly came from Shane, who was redirecting his own chicken taunts (helped in part by Reed). She smiled and Blaine closed his eyes tight; just to feel a cool kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He stopped cringing, but the rest of the circle booed. Sara shrugged their complaints off, “I’m not awful guys. Give Anderson a break.”

“You wasted a kiss with Sara Tomlin, I’m straight and I’d jump on that chance!” Jackie said, kicking her feet out.

“Sure you’re straight Blake.” The Double As accused to Jackie’s middle finger.

“Can I leave now?” Blaine asked, getting up.

Kurt took the bottle next, “I don’t know, maybe you want to stay for this one?”

Blaine flushed, ah yes maybe. Reed nudged his roommate as Blaine watched his boyfriend spin the bottle. Ethan and Evan looked excited until it, disappointingly for the rest of the group, landed on Blaine.

Kurt smiled, “There we go. I’ll take my kiss to go if you guys don’t mind.”

“Cheater!” Shane booed, without much feeling behind it. Sara and some of the Hanover boys laughed. Blaine found himself pulled away from the circle gratefully, tugged towards the wall to get a kiss he’d much prefer.

Blaine’s dissent aside, the game continued into chaos. Drew landed on Sara, earning more scorn from the girls in the group; but enough of a show, to let him be safe from too much booing. Alexandra got Ophelia, who immediately slipped her tongue into Alexandra’s mouth with her valley girl courage, leaving Alexandra flushed and quieter than usual- though behind her hand they could spot a shy smile forming.

Hoots and hollers continued when Ethan and Evan took the full bottle, newly delivered by Todd (who was then ordered to join the group) and spun it as a pair.

“We’ll get it finished off in no time.” Evan insisted, as it pointed square towards Thad who started sputtering excuses about the pair of them spinning being unfair. The catcalls overwhelmingly did not let him get out of the kiss. Ethan opened the bottle, passing it to his brother as the group convinced Thad to not run away.

“Come on Thad, would you rather them land on you twice?” Todd laughed, “I know what you write in the-”

“What happens in Midnight Writers, stays in Midnight Writers dammit Todd!” Thad yelled back, wobbling as he got up on his knees to stab a finger in Todd’s direction. Maybe he’d had too much of Sebastian’s vodka. Maybe not.

Casey pushed him back up into the centre of the circle. “Come on, you’re not dating them. It’s a little kiss.”

“Just a peck!” Shane called.

“Nothing but a smooch.” Reed giggled into his boyfriend’s shoulder, who was truly feeling the brownies now.

“You guys all suck.” Thad accused, getting in front of the twins with determination flagging as they looked at him like appraising a new conquest. “Uh, just a kiss.”

“Your virtue is safe with us,” Ethan assured him, sounding less trustworthy by the second.

“Unless you ask otherwise.” Evan finished; drawing more catcalls.

“Uh, well…” Thad closed his eyes and leaned forward, scrunching his face as Ethan just pulled him forward into his lap, shocking any refusal out of him. He would have pulled away and complained, until he felt a hand around the back of his neck and Ethan moved. By the time Evan pulled him over, he’d made the most embarrassing groan and was red as a tomato.

“That means nothing.” Thad said quickly; unconsciously biting his lip.

The Brightmans laughed. “Sure. Sure it did.”

If Thad then took a pillow to hug, distracted for the rest of the game, it was no one’s business but his own he insisted. The vodka was finished quickly after that.

With Ethan and Evan’s turn complete, it was Allison’s turn. It was obvious to anyone she wanted it to land on one of the girls, her words supporting the boys but every single kiss she’d watched with open-mouthed want happening between the girls. She’d been speechless when Jackie’s first round had landed on Laura, and she’d kissed her senseless.

The bottle landed on Reed; Allison’s mouth twisted downwards, disappointed. Reed didn’t look so upset as she did, his boyfriend giggling and encouraging him like they’d done earlier.

“Why do we keep making the gay guys kiss girls?” Andrea complained. “It’s not fun.”

“Who said I’m gay?” Reed cut in, boldly as Allison blushed. The Dalton boys cheered him on, including his own boyfriend.

Allision pouted, she hadn’t wanted Van Kamp, she’d wanted Satoru, or Danny Abbot, she insisted to herself. But she couldn’t look like a chicken, planting herself in front of Reed determined.

Reed looked at her kindly. “I could do what Sara did for Blaine-”

She frowned at the older boy, talking under her breath. “That wouldn’t be fair.”

“It’s just a game-”

“Well I’m not gay like him, so I’m not chickening out.” She said sharply, keeping it quiet between the haze of his curls and her long hair falling in her face.

“Okay.” Reed said, unsure, leaning up to the taller girl to kiss her.

He tasted like brownies, and she was startled at how soft his mouth was. Fingers with band-aids on each one settled on her shoulders as they both swayed. It made sense; the twins wouldn’t let you walk away from one of their parties if you could just as easily crash on the floor because you’d gone so off the edge. She nipped at his lower lip, in a game that usually had boys wanting more; but felt rather empty as he pulled away from her with a simply smile, lingering no more than the cheering around them demanded. It was weird, she felt so detached for a moment.

“You’re a good kisser.” He said to her.

She frowned deeper. “Whatever.”

Sitting back, Allison passed the bottle over to Danny- who had been her actual choice, and she hoped he’d hand on her.

He didn’t in fact; Danny’s spin finding Todd across the circle, to Todd’s own quiet snort.

“Come on Danny boy, let’s see what Wes is missing out on.” Todd beckoned.

“Hey!” Wes said, hearing his name from the bathroom door. Danny tried not to look at him as he was pulled in for a long kiss.

“I knew it’d be fluffy.” Todd said, ruffling Danny’s hair, pushing him back to his side of the circle.

“You’re as bad from the as Alessio.” Mika said, barely heard over the music; though she said it with good humour, rebraiding her hair before more drunk students decided it held the secret of life and messed it up again.

“What? Its not a crime to appreciate the finer things in life.” Todd joked, one leg out and smiling.

“You’re certainly much less shy about it than last time there was a Windsor party.” Dwight pointed out, supporting Mika.

Todd grinned at his roommate. “Life is too short to not ruffle people’s hair. Unstuff your shirt Dwight, if they’re not a demon I say they’re free game.”

Dwight opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by the twins cheering on Andrea and Marcus Holland- who’d shown up despite his own misgivings about his former house. Another two left the circle, another few joined.

Casey spun again and landed on the twins, who had a much more eager- if less vocal- partner this time. Jeff’s second spin got Shane, who was an enthusiastic partner.

Jackie then took over, the bottle finished off again; it was her third spin of the game, as she’d been having too much fun to leave the circle. She’d been hoping for another Dobry girl, or at least one of her friends from the Motorbike bros, so at least she could have one she could go overboard and funny with. Todd would go along with it, even if Sadie’d already left the circle.

One person off wasn’t bad she supposed. “Okay Houston, pucker up.”

Todd laughed at his roommate, who looked ready to scramble up the walls. “She won’t bite.”

“I object to the moral grounding of this game!”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t disappoint me.”

Dwight blushed, “Hey!”

She bit her lip, crawling across the carpet with wicked humour in her eyes. “It’s only a kiss.”

“HOW COULD IT END UP LIKE THIS?” Shane yelled, rather than sang from beside them.

The circle burst into an impromptu sing-a-long, covering up the small squeak Dwight made when Jackie kissed him, softer than she would have liked, but the confused smile on his face was worth it. She punched his shoulder gently, “Told you it’d be fine.”

“No wonder you hang out with Sadie, you’re scary just like her.” Dwight said, using the sing-a-long to get up and scuttle around the circle to escape.

“Do I kiss like her?” She asked amused.

Dwight went a plum red, “I- what- NO!”

“Oh, so she’s better than me?”

“I have never- she’s my fr- AH!” Dwight threw up his hands and hurried into the other side of the room like he was being chased.

Todd snorted besides Dwight’s vacated seat. The circle was falling apart; around them various Primas, Royals, Hanovers, Windsors, and a couple of Stuarts ended up pairing off, singing or sharing drinks, or just starting up a contest of trying to climb the stairs without using their arms or legs (of which Thad was surprisingly winning).

Jackie nudged his shoulder, shoving Todd against the bookshelf to make room. “Is he always like this?”

“Most of the time.” Todd said, loudly enough she could hear him. “I’m surprised he didn’t throw salt at everyone a round earlier. He might have if he’d gotten the twins and not Kurt on his turn.”

“God, how can you live with him?” Jackie asked. “I’d go nuts.”

“He’s a good guy.” Todd assured her. “Besides, you’re worse than he could ever be. You jumped a car in the Denny’s parking lot last time we went out. I should be asking your roommates the same question.”

“I’m a special brand of weird.” Jackie insisted, sticking her tongue out at him. He pinched it- her screeching in response sending him into laughter. “You’re awful!”

“You love me Jackie, come on.” Todd teased, tapping the abandoned bottle at her.

“Hey, you landed on me, you know what that means.” She said, taking the bottle out of his hand. “No take backs.”

“I didn’t spin it.”

Jackie turned it around once clumsily and then pointed it back at herself. “There. I win.”

He rolled his eyes, but she got her wish anyways; pulling him down against her mouth with a smile, twisting her tongue against his as the party raged around them. She felt his hand in her hair, pulling at the thick strands. She’d have to make fun of him for that later. She braced against the bookshelf, swinging a knee over him to get closer to him.

“We should get some water. Just… cause.” Todd panted, unable to move back, wedged against the bookshelf the way they were. His glasses were askew, but the warm flush to his face made it look infinitely less dorky.

“Is there water in your room?” She asked, grinning into another kiss.

“Jackie…”

“Is there?”

“…yes.”

“Well then let’s go.”

The party continued long into the night. Some disappeared upstairs; others just fell asleep on the common room floor. Lucy was found curled up under the sink after winning an impromptu game of hide-and-seek which had ended 3 hours prior.

Han only flicked through his view screens; looking for campus security by the time 5am rolled around and he had to sound the alarm to disperse. No one thanked him for it; but when did they ever?

The twins called it one of their best parties ever.

Logan Wright called it an affront to good taste.

Julian Larson was just mad his invitation had been sent via carrier pigeon- because he really wanted to come.

---

Note: Everyone except my OC Ophelia is a canon “Season 2″ character. I am not tagging every single character in this, by god that is far too many for an ensemble fic. I also give up because there would be too many potential ship tags.

#daltonfficbigbang2020 #daltonfic #oneshot #pg #lols #otp #brotp #windsor #stuart #hanover #prima #royal #artemiswrites

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not-a-space-alien · 5 years

Text

hey its me again wall of text sorry not sorry

k i saw your little treatise justifying zadr and yknow its a cartoon its not the worst thing ever of course nobody is gonna sue you for reblogging fanart or burn you at the stake or w/e and im glad you decided to open yourself up to a differing opinion but zim IS portrayed as an adult. there was even an unfinished episode where zim’s childhood and growing up training from start to finish would be shown so by the time of the pilot he is definitely a full grown developed adult by irken standards especially if hes a former member of an elite military force like the invaders. jhonen has said that the irony and sad comedy of zims character is that hes a grown ass man and a war veteran to boot who VOLUNTARILY goes to an elementary school every day and throws hands with an 11 year old boy who should be well below his notice because he’s that pathetic and desperate for validation that he’ll stoop to seeking it from a child. it also sets up a dynamic between them where dib is CHALLENGED by having to go up against an adult with way more experience than him while dib is just a child, so when he wins its more meaningful, which is a common trope in childrens fiction that an underdog young hero has to take down a powerful adult villain.

jhonen might joke a lot but he’s serious about this part of the characterization of zim and dib and he even went to great lengths to make dib look and act more like a kid in ETF (more emotional and naive, designed to look smaller/softer, going in depth with his relationship to his dad and sister and needing his dad to protect him at the end when he’s too overrun to fight alone) just to drive home the point of how young he is. it was a very deliberate move and jhonen knows what hes doing ESPECIALLY since he also left zim pretty much unchanged and also includes gags about zim’s relative maturity like animating him briefly grimacing because his joints are sore and the part where he pretty much gestures to his crotch and goes “theyre afraid to look at ALL-A THIS”. like you would not see jhonen do that sort of joke with an underage character ok. dont confuse his social awkwardness and self deprecating/trolling humor for not knowing the difference between right and wrong and not acknowledge when he means something sincerely because he doesn’t just clown on people and troll ALL THE TIME 24/7 hes a human, and times have changed with more awareness on issues such as the grooming of minors so he can go back on things he may have said in the past that he doesn’t agree with now or said by mistake. he has said enough times that zim is older than any human alive that its safe to take his word for it by now. judging by the one strip he did in JTHM about johnny murdering a pedophile who was about to prey on squee i think his stance on protecting kids is pretty clear. also i wouldnt put it past jhonen to have redesigned membrane to be more chaddy looking to divert the adult fandom’s attention away from dib and throw the fangirls a bone but thats a whole nother can of worms lol.

and the justification that zim is immature so hes essentially on dib’s level is a reversal of something lots of kids hear from either creepy or ignorant adults who tell them theyre “so mature for their age”. no matter how emotionally mature you are it wont ever compensate for the number of years youve been alive so that’s not very sound logic, and even in fic where theyre both adults it’s still pretty weird because it doesn’t erase their history where zim knew dib as a kid. that’s sort of like a grownup waiting with bated breath until a kid is “legal” so they can start dating. kinda like when jacob imprints on bella’s newborn daughter in twilight then having it handwaved away by saying he’ll wait till she’s grown up, which understandably drew a huge amount of criticism. it’s a loophole that might be mildly acceptable in some cases but the context leaves it colored with a residual ickiness that sets off some red flags for me and a lot of other people.

also you said zim is an alien and therefore the situation itself is unrealistic, but the reason invader zim’s writing resonates with people is because zim is written with very HUMAN emotions and motivations and part of the humor again is how irkens despite being aliens from another planet mirror some of humanity’s worst flaws such as being petty, gluttonous, willfully ignorant, arrogantly believing they are special and better than everyone else, easily manipulated by propaganda, all too eager to greedily colonize other societies etc making them not so different from us at all. so the premise out of context might not seem realistic but the idea of a sad burnout adult who doesn’t realize how humiliating it is to be consistently outsmarted by a kid less than half their age IS realistic and applicable to human interaction since we’ve likely all met someone like this before at one point in our lives for example a schoolteacher who has a personal vendetta against one or more of their students and has nothing better to do than antagonize them, or a really dumb parent that you fight with a lot.

another thing, i know you and other fans probably have a lot of sentimental value and nostalgia attached to zadr because you probably shipped it back when you were a kid yourself and you cant be blamed for something you liked as a kid, but youre an adult now, and you have to listen to the portion of kids in the fandom who dont like zadr and say without question that the age gap makes them uncomfortable. those kids ARE the priority. we’re grown up now and we have to put our feelings aside for them because that’s part of being responsible and mature. i feel like zim himself is a pretty good example of how not to act at our age [shrug emoji]

and anyway a lot of the same elements of zadr can be explored with zadf just as well with just as much potential for cute moments and as a bonus is it’s not creepy

You do bring up some good points, and I’m not saying you’re wrong... But honestly I’m still not convinced. I mean, stuff that Jhonen said, the thing is even if it’s the author saying it it’s still outside of canon, that’s the reason why Neil Gaiman got flack for Good Omens because they didn’t write an actual kiss or hug or hand-hold between Aziraphale and Crowley yet Neil Gaiman went on Twitter saying they were queer representation. I still don’t really put much stock into what he says because the unfinished episodes and Jhonen’s commentary don’t really change the dynamic that’s actually in the show. And again...Jhonen said if there were going to be romance in the show it would be Zim/Gaz, so he’s either a huge hypocrite or doesn’t view Zim as being incompatible with Gaz.

I do think it’s much better when Dib is an adult and it just makes more sense, and I actually do prefer zadf to zadr and if i were going to ever write fanfiction or make fanart it would probably just be zadf, just because i know this does have some stuff to think about and I totally respect that you have a different view of it, but i honestly just don’t see it that way. The analogy with Jacob imprinting on Bella’s child in Twilight isn’t really the same thing honestly. The author in that situation tried to make it not......that....by saying that imprinting isn’t always a romantic relationship thing, and that Jacob would be more of an older brother, but honestly that doesn’t really negate the impact of grooming that kid would have with Jacob around. The idea that Zim would somehow be grooming Dib seems really silly to me although you’re right, I think his characterization in Into the Florpus has evolved somewhat especially with regard to Dib wanting to get his father’s approval, but again Zim has parallels with that in trying to please the Tallest. the world-building and characterizations are inconsistent and scattershot at best. Like no, zim isn’t waiting for him to turn legal, that’s absurd, they’re nemeses coming at each other then learning to be friends. You’re right that that doesn’t have to be zadr but I still tag it as zadr so people can block it if they want to.

Like, I’ve seen people ship Zim with Professor Membrane instead of Dib. That seems very weird to me. that professor membrane would have a relationship with someone who literally goes to his son’s elementary school and who doesn’t know anything at all about human behavior and emotions.

I feel like with this discussion people don’t really understand the problem with age gaps. With age gaps, it’s not a matter of mature/immature, it’s about development. A ten year age gap sounds like a lot right? a 25-year-old and a 15-year old would absolutely have a predatory “relationship.” But a 35- and a 45-year old, that’s perfectly fine. Having a difference in age doesn’t automatically make the relationship unhealthy. so if Dib is 25 and Zim is [whatever the hell aliens years i still don’t really take Jhonen’s word for it bc he’s not consistent], that’s doesn’t mean it has to be bad. The thing about telling minors they’re “so mature for their age” to try and convince them that a person interested in them isn’t a pedophile is that we know a human being who is 15 isn’t developmentally at the same level as a 25-year-old regardless of their behavior. What is Zim? All we have to go on is how he acts, and he acts like Dib is an equal match, it’s not “he’s immature for his age,” it’s very unclear. Raw number of years isn’t the ultimate decider, for example in DnD lore elves reach maturity at, like, 100 years old so a 25-yo human trying to get with a 50-year-old elf would be predatory to the young elf even though the “younger” one is technically twice as old as the human. Do you see what I’m saying?

I also don’t really buy the idea that Invader Zim’s writing resonates with people because Zim is ~~so human~~. The guy steals a bunch of kid’s organs in one episode and flies into a tantrum over the slightest inconvenience. You have to be reading really deeply into it and dig into some old internet archives of things Jhonen Vasquez has said to paint it as realistic. You can do some interesting things with it wrt like, Zim being defective and starting to experience human emotions but that’s mostly fanon.

Well, you’ve given me some things to think about, thanks for explaining your side to me. I’m still going to tag things as #zadr so people can block if it can’t plausibly be categorized as zadf. I’m not actually making any fan content for Invader Zim so the point is kind of moot, but if I ever do I’ll definitely take this into consideration.

#invader zim #zadr #submission

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entamewitchlulu · 4 years

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so i did a reading challenge this year and i wanna talk about what i read

transcription under the cut

i did Popsugar 2019 and wanna talk about what i read: Book Reccs and Anti-Reccs

1.) Becoming a Movie in 2019: Umbrella Academy (vol 1) by Gerard Way and Gabriel Ba

4/5. A fascinating take on superpowers, dysfunctional families, and the apocalypse. Can get pretty gory, confusing here and there and you have to pay close attention to panels for lore, but overall an entertaining romp.

2.) Makes you Feel Nostalgic: Circles in the Stream by Rachel Roberts

4/5. Middle grade novel about the magic of music, belief, and of course, friendship. Definitely written for kids, and has some unfortunately clumsy Native rep, but overall an absolute joy to dive into once again.

3.) Written by a Musician: Umbrella Academy (vol 2) by Gerard Way and Gabriel Ba

4/5. Ramps up the confusion to ridiculous degrees with some absolutely bonkers, unexplained arcs, but still fun to watch this dysfunctional family do its dysfunctional thing.

4.) You Think Should be Turned into a movie: All That Glitters by Rachel Roberts

4/5. Continuation of Circles in the Stream, but with more unicorns, more rainbows, and more fae, which makes it automatically even better than the first.

5.) With At Least 1 Mil. Ratings on Goodreads: 1984 by George Orwell

1/5. I understand why it's important and all but wasn't prepared for some of the more graphic scenes and the overall hopelessness of the message. Would not recommend or read again.

6.) W/ a Plant in the title or cover: The secret of Dreadwillow carse by Brian farrey

5/5. A fantasy world where everyone is always happy, save for one girl and the princess, who set out to solve the mystery of their kingdom. Poignant and great for kids and adults.

7.) Reread of a favorite: Cry of the Wolf by Rachel Roberts

4/5. Yet another installment in the Avalon: Web of Magic series, which clearly I am obsessed with. Please just read them.

8.) About a Hobby: Welcome to the Writer's Life by Paulette Perhach

5/5. A welcome kick in the pants, chock full of great advice told without condescension, and full of hope and inspiration for writers both new and old.

9.) Meant to read in 2018: The Poet x by Elizabeth Acevedo

4/5. Absolutely beautiful coming of age novel told in verse. Do yourself a favor and listen to the audiobook version.

10.) w/ "pop," "sugar," or "challenge" in the title: Black Sugar by Miguel Bonnefoy

2/5. I think maybe I just don't understand this genre. Or maybe the translation was weird. I was confused.

11.) w/ An Item of Clothing or Accessory on the cover: Our dreams at Dusk by Yuhki Kamatani

4/5. It had a lot more slurs/homophobia than I was prepared for, but otherwise is a very touching, relatable collection of queer characters living in a heteronormative world.

12.) Inspired by Mythology or Folklore: Ravenous by MarcyKate Connolly

3/5. A girl goes on an impossible quest to save her brother from a child-eating witch. Really wanted to like it more because I loved the first one, Monstrous, but it dragged a little.

13.) Published Posthumously: The Islands of Chaldea by Diana Wynne Jones

3/5. I adore Diana Wynne Jones, but this one was missing some of the magic of her other books. Not sure if it was because it had to be finished by someone else, or if I just grew out of her stories.

14.) Set in Space: Binti by Nnedi Okorafor

4/5. Powerfully written story of a girl straddling tradition and innovation, who wields power through mathematical magic, surviving on a spaceship alone with a dangerous alien occupation after everyone else has been killed.

15.) By 2 Female Authors: Burn for Burn by Jenny Han and Siobhan Vivian

2/5. Ostensibly a story about a revenge pact in a small island town, but leaves far too many dangling threads to attempt alluring you to the sequel.

16.) W/ A Title containing "salty," "bitter," "Sweet," or "Spicy": The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith

3/5. It's okay but I literally just never know what anyone means at any time. Are they being reticent on purpose or do i just not understand communication

17.) Set in scandinavia: Vinland Saga by Makoto Yukimura

2/5. Technically and historically accurate and well made, but the story itself is not my cup of tea. Very gory.

18.) Takes Place in a Single Day: Long WAy Down by Jason Reynolds

4/5. A boy goes to avenge his murdered brother, but ghostly passengers join him on the elevator ride down. Stunning and powerful character-driven analysis.

19.) Debut Novel: Nimona by Noelle Stevenson

4/5. Charming and then surprisingly heart-breaking comic about Nimona, a shapeshifter who wants to become a villain's minion. Really love the villain/hero dynamic going on in the background, along with the dysfunctional found family.

20.) Published in 2019: The Book of Pride by Mason Funk

4/5. A collection of interviews with the movers, shakers, and pioneers of the queer and LGBTQ+ community. An absolutely essential work for community members and allies alike.

21.) Featuring an extinct/imaginary creature: Phoebe and her Unicorn by Dana Simpson

4/5. Incredibly charming, Calvin and Hobbes-esque collection of comics featuring the adventures of Phoebe and her unicorn best friend.

22.) Recced by a celebrity you admire: The Emerald Circus by Jane Yolen

2/5. Recced by my fave author Brandon Sanderson. An unfortunately disappointing anthology proving that any story can be made uninteresting by telling the wrong section of it.

23.) With "Love" in the Title: Book Love by Debbie Tung

4/5. One of those relatable webcomics, only this one I felt super hard almost the entire time. Books are awesome and libraries rule.

24.) Featuring an amateur detective: Nancy Drew: Palace of Wisdom by Kelly Thompson

4/5. REALLY love this modern take on Nancy Drew, coming back home to her roots to solve a brand new mystery. Diverse cast and lovely artwork, though definitely more adult.

25.) About a family: Amulet by Kabu Kibuishi

4/5. Excellent, top tier graphic novel about a sister and brother who have to go rescue their mother with a mysterious magic stone. LOVE that the mom gets to be involved in the adventure for once.

26.) by an author from asia, Africa, or s. America: Girls' Last tour by Tsukumizu

4/5. Somehow both light-hearted and melancholy. Two girls travel about an empty, post-apocalyptic world, and muse about life and their next meal.

27.) w/ a Zodiac or astrology term in title: Drawing down the moon by margot adler

3/5. A good starting place for anyone interested in the Neo Pagan movement, but didn't really give me what I was personally looking for.

28.) you see someone reading in a tv show or movie: The Promised NEverland by Kaiu Shirai

4/5. I don't watch TV or movies where people read books so i think reading an adaptation of a TV series after watching the series counts. Anyway it was good but beware racist caricatures

29.) A retelling of a classic: Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy by Rey Terciero

5/5. We can stop the Little Women reboots and retellings now, this is the only one we need. In fact, we can toss out the original too, this is the only one necessary.

30.) w/ a question in the title: So I'm a spider, so what? by Asahiro Kakashi

4/5. Cute art despite the subject matter, and a surprisingly enthralling take on the isekai genre. Love the doubling down on the video game skills.

31.) Set in a college or university campus: Moonstruck (vol 2) by Grace Ellis

2/5. An incredibly cute, beautiful, and fascinating world of modern magic and creatures, but unfortunately falls apart at the plot and pacing.

32.) About someone with a superpower: Moonstruck (vol 1) by Grace Ellis

4/5. Though nearly as messy plot-wise as its sequel, the first volume is overwhelmingly charming in a way that overpowers the more confusing plot elements.

33.) told from multiple povs: The Long way to a Small, Angry Planet by becky Chambers

4/5. Told almost in a serial format, like watching a miniseries, a group of found-family spaceship crew members make the long journey to their biggest job ever.

34.) Includes a wedding: We Set the dark on fire by Tehlor kay mejia

4/5. Timely and poignant, a girl tumbles into both love and resistance after becoming one of two wives to one of the most powerful men in the country.

35.) by an author w/ alliterative name: The only harmless great Thing by brooke bolander

3/5. Much deeper than I can currently comprehend. Beautifully written, but difficult to parse.

36.) A ghost story: Her body and other parties by Carmen Maria Machado

4/5. It counts because one of the stories in it has ghosts. A sometimes difficult collection of surrealist, feminist, queer short stories.

37.) W/ a 2 word title: Good omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

4/5. Charming, touching, and comical, probably the best take on the apocalypse to date. Also excellent ruminations on religion and purpose.

38.) based on a true story: The faithful Spy by John Hendrix

4/5. Brilliantly crafted graphic biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and his assistance in fighting back against Nazi Germany.

39.) Revolving around a puzzle or game: the Crossover by Kwame alexander

4/5. The verse didn't always hit right with me, but the story is a sweet, melancholy one about family, loss, and moving on.

40.) previous popsugar prompt (animal in title): The last unicorn by peter s. Beagle

5/5. Absolutely one of my all-time favorite books, it manages to perfectly combine anachronism and comedy with lyricism, melancholy, and ethereal beauty.

41.) Cli-fi: Tokyo Mew Mew by Mia ikumi and Reiko Yoshida

4/5. Shut up it counts

42.) Choose-your-own-adventure: My Lady's choosing by Kitty curran

3/5. Cute in concept, a bit underwhelming in execution. Honestly, just play an otome.

43.) "Own Voices": Home by Nnedi Okorafor

3/5. The storytelling style was definitely not my style; while the first book was slow, too, it felt more purposeful. I found my attention wandering during this installment.

44.) During the season it's set in: Pumpkinheads by rainbow rowell

3/5. Cute art, but precious little substance. The concept simply wasn't for me in the first place.

45.) LITRPG: My next life as a villainess: All routes lead to doom! by Hidaka nami

5/5. An absolute insta-fave! Charming art, endearing characters, an incredible premise, and so much sweet wholesome fluff it'll give you cavities.

46.) No chapters: The field guide to dumb birds of north america by matt kracht

3/5. It started out super strong, but the joke started to wear thin at a little past the halfway point.

47.) 2 books with the same title: Unfollow by Megan Phelps-Roger

4/5. A brave and enduring personal story of growing up in and eventually leaving the Westboro Baptist Church. Really called to me to act with grace and kindness even more in the future.

48.) 2 books with the same title: unfollow by rob williams and michael dowling

1/5. How many times do you think we can make Battle Royale again before someone notices

49.) That has inspired a common phrase or idiom: THe Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

4/5. Definitely good and deserves it's praise as something that pretty much revolutionized and created an entire demographic of literature.

50.) Set in an abbey, cloister, Monastery, convent, or vicarage: Murder at the vicarage by agatha christie

3/5. I just cannot. physically keep up with all of these characters or find the energy to read between the lines.

ok that's all i got, what did y'all read and like this year? (oh god it’s gonna be 2020)

#book reccs #lulu booktalks

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f-117-nighthawk · 4 years

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More playlist meta bc I don’t wanna do homework and Jimmy kicked me out of the TA room saying I’d been in there for far too long for a Friday (it was four hours! Interspaced between classes! Workshop kit inventory is just an excuse to blast Gloryhammer to me, it’s fun)

Since I was talking about Ten Thousand Against One earlier, I’ve been thinking about the timeline and which event the songs are connected to. Long post under the cut

Turn the Lights Out is... sort of an odd case. It’s not like Remnants of Stars, which is about Galran and my philosophy about how we were created, what happens to us when we die, and the cycles that power the universe. Of course, Remnants of Stars is a little more than just philosophy. It actually describes (in a rather metaphorical way) the actual process of the marthinazik filtering quintesence into new stars, planets, beings, anything you can think of. It also has a very important lyric for much much later like, post Sticky Notes later. Now that I think about it, it actually defines a good chunk of that maybe-sequel-maybe-idea era in conjunction with Soul Extract’s Filaments.

Anyway, back to Turn the Lights Out. It’s an odd case because it’s sort of like Remnants of Stars in that it’s more about the philosophy, but it’s before Remnants of Stars because it’s also kind of an event. If you read interviews with Delain about Moonbathers, Charlotte states that Turn the Lights Out is about Neil Gaiman's Sandman comics, specifically the character of Death. I confess I haven’t read those comics, but my interpretation fits her rather well I think. To me, Turn the Lights Out is about a gentle god who accepts they will not always be seen as who they are but will give their everything to protect those within their universe. Now, who does that sound like? Which characters have been around since the birth of the universe, under various names, whether they be Ibeshganszá, ‘kibrraldíl, Marduzbazí, or Vôltrôn?

You can make an argument for Your World Will Fail to be directly after Turn the Lights Out, but I rather like it after Remnants of Stars too. Turn the Lights Out is the beginning of the universe, so naturally, it goes first. Sentient life needs to evolve for Remnants of Stars to truly fit, and even though Your Would Will Fail technically can happen at any point between the first Plank time and the next, it also happens when the comet that becomes Voltron crashes into Daibazaal. The Your World Will Fail/Dark Matter/Eater of Worlds trio is both a general, entire timeline-spanning idea, and a specific event.

(Your world will fail my love/It's far beyond repair/Your world will fail my love/It is already there)

(Bring me your soul/Bring me your hate/In my name you will create/Bring me your fear/Bring me your pain/You will destroy in my name)

(Can't imagine the violence/The rage and the love in my madness/I am the eater of worlds and I'm looking for someone to feed me)

And then, right after that event, or even during, you have Apocalypse 1992. The death of the dream, the final madness before the triumph of chaos.

You Keep What You Kill is very much the odd one out out of everything. Helion Prime based it off a book I forget the name of, but here it’s purely about Zarkon’s empire. The “Holy Half-Dead” have lost so much of their culture, of the family bonds that kept them together even when their mistakes threatened the destruction of all, but they still remember the songs of glory. And they do keep what they kill.

And then there’s a rather large time jump of about five thousand Earth years to The Seven Sisters. This song is pretty well encapsulated in Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) (which is a lyric from Closure, but Closure is later for Reasons), but the other half of it is connected to Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met.

Who Will Save You Now has gone through so many iterations of what it’s connected to I honestly don’t remember what it actually is anymore. Given its placement between The Seven Sisters and Nobody Gets Left Behind, I think it’s related to the SFSS Genesis’s disappearance. But it could also be placed in conjunction with A Simple Plan and be about something slightly different...hm, I’ll think on that. This song has such a Dark Matter vibe to me, but it hasn’t found a home that sticks in my brain yet.

Nobody Gets Left Behind is really there bc it’s a fun song and when I found 1551 I immediately had to put something in. BUT it is a good song about family dynamics and, well, that’s Voltron in a nutshell right? (and then you get, right there in the first verse, “Don't even try to pretend/That you're rough and just as tough/As when you're missing a friend/Attack and take him back/Cause when the team isn't whole/You've got a hole in your soul/So step up to your fucking role/We might get hurt/We might be taking some hits/But when you're taking our friend/Then that's some personal shit” and you cannot tell me that’s not everybody’s mood post Battle in the Sarnan Nebula)

A Simple Plan is a new addition in the past few weeks. I rediscovered The Spiritual Machines a few weeks ago and the lyric “How long can we hold off ending/How long can we pretend we're ok” hit me right in the Keith feels. So this one is in conjunction with the first verse of Nobody Gets Left Behind. The entire song actually reminds me of Dark Matter with how it’s centralized at one event but contains hints of other things (The truth arrived too slow).

Memories of a Girl I Haven't Met is maybe one standard year (so six earth months-ish?) after A Simple Plan.

String Theory is... weird. It’s mostly there for the title, but the lyrics do contain themes found in other parts of the playlist that fit really well but don’t map to the event I associate the song with. It’s honestly about Shiro missing Adam and the rest of the people on Earth. Which, granted, given the point in the timeline the title is associated with makes a certain amount of sense but...idk. And the bit that begins with “You don’t believe in space” is about something entirely different. It’s confusing, but all inexplicably related to the title event.

Interesting fact: My Dark Matter drafts/ideas folder is actually split int pre- and post- String Theory folders. It was originally because String Theory is such a pivotal moment in the Coalition’s efforts, but it also ended up vaguely the middle of the timeline. It’s the point where things absolutely, truly, have no relation to what happens in canon. The butterfly effect stemming from the events of Shatterpoint (and an implied secondary shatterpoint in another fic) have changed things enough that apart from one general event, nothing happens the same way (and that event is for drastically different reasons). All in all, it fits the weird vibe of the song rather well.

Next is Belgrade, the Ultimate Klance Song, about three months later. Fun Shenanigans happen in conjunction with this absolute bop.

Here’s the surprisingly big gap of just over a standard Earth year, in which several important events happen that don’t have songs attached to them (Roentgen, maybe)

Then we get Birthright/Firewall, a set of songs about reclaiming yourself from the depths of hell with just a liiiiiitle bit of help from your family.

(It's time to take ahold of what belongs to me/It's time to walk away with no apologies/Voices in the mirror start quietly/And now they're screaming back at me!)

(This force knows what you can do/And what you can make/With your tattered shell)

Here Comes the Reign technically starts during Birthright/Firewall, but doesn’t come into full effect until a month later, and then even fuller around five months after that. Meanwhile, we have The Day the Earth Collapsed, which is rather self-explanatory.

A few months later there is Darker Matter. The fic connected to this is real weird, but also real important. Suffice to say it’s gonna be confusing, and a universe doesn’t like the Paladins for a while.

And then we have Closure. Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) is actually the first of four fics inspired by Closure’s chorus. (I also drew a picture for each fic. They’re combined into my desktop background, and the first one is still my phone background and my pfp) “I am the child from the stars/That got lost in the dark/Between heaven and hell/I am forced to live on/I am the cause when you sin/I am the demon you skin/But there is no more tears to beautify/This is my last goodbye”

Closure is a rather sad song actually, but the way I’ve interpreted it ends on a bright spot of hope. The first related fic I’ve already posted/talked about, the second would be around the time of A Simple Plan. The third is somewhere in the gap between Belgrade and Birthright/Firewall. I’ve placed Closure at the approximate time of the fourth fic. I actually just moved it while writing this, because I realized this makes more sense after Darker Matter and with the Fall of [Redacted]. I’ve chosen to interpret the last line as finally deciding to stay instead of the (probably more likely given the rest of the album) darker interpretations.

After Closure is Ember, which is actually super connected to Darker Matter which is why I originally had them next to each other. The thing is, all three of these songs are connected to very specific events, the latter two of which are in direct response to the first even if there is a month or two between them. Ember is on the playlist for two reasons: the first is the line “dark matter falling from the sky” that basically required me to put it somewhere; the second is the fact that I keep mishearing the lyrics. “chthonic” is not “cuthonic” (which is not a word, but I interpreted as meaning Cthulu-like) and it’s “riches to embers” not “witches to embers.” Make of that what you will.

And finally, after almost seven Earth years, we get to The Reckoning/This is a Call/World on Fire/Louder Than Words. The Reckoning sort-of picks up where The Day the Earth Collapsed left off, spanning at least a year before going full force into the frantic five days of the other three songs.

(In blood and tears/A thousand times/We rise against/We'll always hold the line/Of reckoning)

(This is a call to action/This is a call to arms/All lives for one, together/There are no false alarms)

(World on fire with a smoking sun/Stops everything and everyone/Brace yourself for all will pay/Help is on the way)

(We have the force to fight/We have the blinding light/A war is more than heard/Coming in louder than words)

#i am dark matter; your road to ruin #dark matter playlist #to the tune of sketchy galore: meta galore #god I hope the under the cut works this is so long #its also two am i'm going to sleep it's been a long few hours #DM Playlists

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sicksweetcreamy · 5 years

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OC-TOBER

i did a inktober challenge for my OC uwow more under the cut

Day 1: intro

meet Maro Moon; theres the reality version (Mareal/MRL) and the dreaming version, (Maream/MRM). Both are the same person, MRL is just the outer shell and MRM is the inside of the shell

Day 2+5: family+younger verison

MRL: I have a dad and a mom and a bunch of cousins and aunts and uncles that I don’t really know. This is the only picture I have of myself as a kid, because I didn’t really like photos. Mom and Dad died a year ago, but just from old age, I guess.

Day 3: friends

MRL: I lost contact with all of my school friends. My coworkers aren’t exactly friends, but they’re the closest thing to it. There’s Neil, Rebecca, Sammy, and Brandon. I don’t know very much about them, except that Neil smokes weed and that Rebecca’s hella rich but her parents made her find a job and that Sammy and Brandon are dating, but that’s about it. We work at a movie theater and it’s a pretty okay job.

Day 4: youngest memory

MRL: My memory’s pretty bad, but I think that when I was about 4, we went to the beach and I got salt water in my eyes and I cried, but it was a fun trip, even if that’s the only part I remember. In fact, I think that the photo I showed you is from that time.

Day 6: dreams and ambitions

MRL: I don’t really have any big goals as of now. My job’s okay and my apartment’s nice, so I can’t really ask for much. I guess a boyfriend would be nice and we could go on dates and kiss and hold hands and do boyfriend stuff together, you know?

Day 7: worst memory

MRL: Oh man, there are a lot. I'm really bad at choosing the-best-of-the best or the-worst-of-the-worst, but I guess there was this one time when I cried in the school bathroom and someone asked to use the stall I was in because the other ones were full, so I had to go and find somewhere else to cry in secrecy. But there was also the time where I cried because I didn’t get enough Christmas presents. Or when I killed my super most favorite and rare and expensive houseplant. Or when i accidentally broke someone’s ceramics project. Or when I threw a basketball at someone and sprained their finger. Or when...

Day 8: living space

MRL: My apartment's small, but it’s home. My landlord’s good enough, and my neighbors are quiet. It may not be perfect but that’s no reason to just move out. (In Maro’s world, you can afford a single person apartment with a slightly-above-minimum wage job)

Day 9: important object

MRL: Like I’ve said, I’m bad at choosing a number one object so I’ll just list a bunch of stuff. My phone’s important, and my laptop, my Starlite Spark “Shine Brite” Album CD that’s actually autographed by the band, my Allison Sunderland figurine key chain (the only anime merch I will ever allow myself to have), aaaaaanndddd my apartment, I guess. And living essentials. I also guess.

Day 10: unusual outfit

MRL: High fashion is kind of weird. I get that it’s just a show to demonstrate your technical ability and skill or whatever, but it feels like a waste of space sometimes. How did I even get into this outfit anyways?

Day 11+26: time period+royal/poor AU

I guess it would play out like Cinderella, where Maro’s, like, a servant or something, but transforms into a prince in his dream world. His dream world would be a lot more fantasy like, or whatever time period Cinderella takes place in.

Day 12: fighting style

MRL can’t fight in real life, because then he’d get fired and arrested for beating the crap out of some customer, but MRM is free to do whatever he wants, which includes going absolutely ham on various dream NPCs with various methods and tools. He floats around really elegantly, but his attacks are really devastating. If he was in a fighting game, he’d be a slow heavy hitter, even if he looks far from the type.

Day 13: love life

MRL: It’s about what you’d expect from someone with no friends. Non. Ex. Istant. It’s really pathetic, don’t you think...?

Day 14: seduction

MRL: *likes your post* *likes your selfie* *never interacts with you in a meaningful manner* As you can see, Maro’s very shy. Too shy, in fact, to even approach someone in real life. It’s hard to seduce someone if you can’t even interact with them physically.

Day 15+19: color palette+reversed personality

If they reversed personalities, I guess that MRL would have a bold and inconsiderate front, while being more reserved deep down. It would be a pretty interesting AU, and the colors look good, too.

Day 16: doing what they do best

Sleeping! Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping. Maro’s special ability is to fall asleep whenever and wherever he wants. He can also wake up when he’s tired of dreaming, but time passes differently in the dream world, so either no time or a lot of time passes by when he wakes up.

Day 17; conflict

MRL meets a lot of unsatisfied customers at work, but the only thing to do is to quell the storm and to go along with whatever they wish. He’s not an entire pushover, but he’s not going to talk back either. MRM, however, is free of consequence to do whatever he wishes in the Dream world so he’s the type to create conflict or to react with more violence.

Day 18: alt. hairstyles

A ponytail makes MRM look very cheerleader-y doesn’t it? MRL doesn’t have enough hair to make a ponytail effective or nice looking, but he can still make one, even if he never does in the first place.

Day 19: mentor(s)

MRL: Mentors? Do teachers count? Even if I didn’t learn anything in school? I guess my parents were mentors too, but that’s just a given. There’s the guy who trained me for my job, but I haven’t seen him ever since.

Day 21: hobbies

MRL: I guess blogging is kind of my hobby. Even though I’m just talking into the void, it’s kind of comforting to imagine somebody relating with my posts. I used to like plants, but I gave up after I killed my most favorite one. Now I just... go on the internet and occasionally post things onto my blog.

Day 22: injured

It’s all in his dreams, so it’s okay if MRM dies or gets hurts.

Day 23: major flaw

Maro’s apathy to the world around him would probably be his biggest flaws. His general “who-cares” attitude makes him rather self centered. It’s hard for him to find use in living to the fullest, or self care, or caring for others, which is why he’s so mediocre.

Day 24: alt. outfits

Work uniform (Polo shirt, nametag, hard pants, shoes) Shopping (Hoodie, t-shirt, sweatpants, shoes) At Home (Blanket, t-shirt, underwear)

Day 25: drunk

Maro rarely gets wasted, because it’s kind of hard to get back home when you have nobody to call, but when he gets drunk he can’t dream properly so MRL gets all fuzzy and weird.

Day 27: bath

Maro takes showers most of the time, but on occassion, takes a nice bubbly bath if he feels like it.

Day 28: losing something loved

I nearly lost a key chain because the ball chain unclasped, but I found it right away. But if Maro lost his Allison Sunderland keychain forever, he’d probably cry and then accept it with apathetic resignation.

Day 29: 10 years later

Day 30: alt. future

Maro is actually a redesign of a previous redesign of previous redesign disguised as a separate OC with another redesign of an OC i made when I was like 12. Complicated, right? The Original design has been lost to time, but I drew some of the other people Maro used to be.

Day 31: life changing moment

Maybe one day, I’ll finish Maro’s story and you guys will be able to see for yourselves :)

until then....

#OC #inktober #oc-tober #maro moon #my art

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jkl-fff · 5 years

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Smut Prompt #7 (Norman Babcock / Neil Downe)

From an anon: 44, ParaNorman, let’s gooooo <3 for this list of prompts: https://jkl-fff.tumblr.com/post/184996044484/smut-prompts

44. “Are you jerking off?” “Uh, n-no! I was just—” “Want some help?” Pairing: ParaNorman (so Norman and Neil … with some implied ParaPines, because I’m me)

It wasn’t technically summer, since there was still a week of school left to go. Yet it was as well, because everybody could feel it in the air. Not just in the warmth and the brightness of the sunlight, not just in the aromas of cut grass and barbecuing meat, not just in the jangling of near or distant ice cream trucks. No, there was something else that everybody—every body—could just feel in the air that was indescribably and inescapably summer.

Like a tingling energy that got under your skin and made you itch to be outside and itch to feel alive, too.

Which was why Norman and Neil were already spending every night they could having a “camping” sleepover in Neil’s backyard. And was also why Norman couldn’t ever stop thinking about their families’ upcoming trip across the country to Oregon … about all the friends waiting for them there … about the one friend waiting for him there … Norman thought about him during school while surrounded by other people … Norman thought about him when at home and completely alone (even from Ghosts) … Now Norman thought about him while in a tent with Neil, his best friend, stretched out not three feet away …

It was maddening. Because he couldn’t ever stop thinking about him, Norman felt like his whole body was going to burst with that tingling, summertime vitality all the time. His skin felt too warm but also felt goosebump-sensitive in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature all the time. His heart and mind both felt like they were racing in a way that had nothing to do with fear all the time. And his dick, well … that felt like it was made of hot brass all the time.

Absolutely maddening. Norman had to do something— had to somehow stop himself thinking about him … But how, he wondered, do you make your body stop tingling with life? How do you make your skin stop itching with flashes of warmth? How do you make your heart and your mind stop revving up after just a thought? How do you make your dick stop—

“Mmmaybe I can do something about that, at least…”

Norman looked sideways. Neal was turned away from him, but seemed to be asleep—breathing deep and slow and regular … In a flash, Norman decided to do it. He reached down inside his own sleeping bag, down inside his shorts, and wrapped a hand around his pulsing dick. That first stroke felt so good, he even gasped. The second and the third were just as good, too, and before long he’d set a steady a rhythm of pumping and panting.

But then Neil shifted, and both rhythms froze. Fricative! Had the sounds woken him up? Or … Fracking! Had he not been fully asleep? No! FECUND IDIOT! He’d been breathing, not snoring! He never actually fell asleep at all!

“Mnngh … Y’jerkin’ off over there or something bud?” Neil mumbled dozily.

“Uh, n-no! I was just—”

“Wan’ some help?”

“… what.” Norman’s voice was just a squeak.

Neil shook himself back to full wakefulness, rolled over (now not two feet away), and looked his best friend square in the face. “Asked if you want some help. Do you?”

“… what?”

“Heh. Think I haven’t noticed how, um, you’re getting more and more … excited the closer we get to our Oregon trip? Think I don’t know how excited you are to see him again? Course I have; you’re my best bud.” He sidled closer (less than one foot away). “And that’s why I’m offering you some help right now.”

“… what?!”

Neil licked his lips. “Tell you what: I’m gonna start doing … some stuff; you tell me stop, and I’ll stop. But if you don’t tell me stop, well … I’m just gonna keep going.”

To Norman’s disbelief, he then heard his sleeping bag being unzipped from the outside. Then Neil drew up entirely beside him (zero—repeat, zero!—feet away), and he felt Neil’s hand slip down inside the sleeping bag, down inside his shorts, and wrap around his throbbing dick. That first stroke felt so amazing, Norman even moaned. The second and the third were just as amazing, too, and he couldn’t help but wonder what made it so much better when Neil did it. Maybe there really was such a thing as “magic fingers”.

And then he felt Neil’s warm breath against his neck and ear, the tickle of a whisper, and an awakening of newfound pleasure went through Norman’s whole body. “Go ahead and just … think about him,” Neil instructed. “Picture his face and hair and body … Imagine him naked … for you … You can even pretend it’s him right here right now doing this to you … if you want … Doing more than this, if you want … Go ahead and just think about him now … and everything you want him to do to you …”

“Nnngh-Neil!”

“Sssh, I gotcha … Sssh …”

“Neil, d’you … d’you want … some help, too?”

“W-wha?” Neil faltered in his rhythm.

In that moment, Norman turned—face to face with his best friend, so close he could’ve counted each individual freckle—to stammer, “G-gonna start doing some s-stuff. Tell me stop, I’ll st-stop. But if you d-don’t tell me stop … I’m gonna keep going! Okay?!”

“… Okay—”

Norman was already unzipping Neil’s sleeping bag. He reached inside it, reached inside Neil’s shirt to run down his chest and belly—so soft, so warm, so … so unbelievably sexy— until his hand was … there! Neil’s shorts. On top of Neil’s shorts, meaning on top of Neil’s crotch! On top of the throbbing hardness— yeah, it was a throbbing hardness, just like Norman’s own!— inside Neil’s shorts!

“Hhhhho, bud, that—mmmyeah!”

And that was that. Something in Norman went off like a train whistle, then he (and Neil, too, after a few seconds of stunned but ecstatic incredulity) went into a kind of sexual frenzy of clumsy strokes and sloppy kisses.

Five minutes later (because they were both pent up teenagers who hadn’t yet developed any kind of sexual stamina), both of them lay together side by side. Out of their sleeping bags, out of their clothes, and out of breath.

“… That was … wow …”

“Heh. Yeah …” Looking at his best friend, Norman asked, “So, uh, I thought … you’re s-straight?”

“I am!” Neil retorted, perhaps a little defensively. “You like him, and I like his sister.”

“Oh, c-cool. But, um … What about, y’know, j-just now? That wasn’t exactly … er …”

After a moment’s consideration, Neil shrugged. “Guess you’re the exception.”

For some reason, that statement filled Norman up with so much joy that he couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah?”

“Ha! Yeah!”

“D-does that mean, um, you’ll h-help me again? Like, n-next time I can’t stop thinking about him?”

“Sure. Why not? We’re best buds, after all.”

“Then n-next time you can’t stop thinking about his sister, I’ll h-help you, too.”

Neil looked over to meet Norman’s eyes. Softly, he whispered, “I think I’d like that …”

#smut #paranorman #norman babcock #norman #neil downe #neil #writing #writing prompt #gravity falls #dipper pines #dipper #parapines #boys kissing #kissing #first kiss #kiss #camping #submission

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nekojitachan · 5 years

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The Ghost in You ch3

Andrew POV scene (this is about halfway done, so maybe another week?)

very vague reference to Andrew’s past

*******

Knowing Josten’s preference for arriving early, Andrew reached the coffee house half before he’d told the man to meet him there, determined to arrive first for once. He ordered a large double mocha and a slice of chocolate cake then picked a table in the far back, away from the other customers with his back to the wall, and exchanged a few texts with Aaron and Nicky while he waited.

As expected, there had been some ‘excitement’ at work over… whatever the hell had happened in the one room with Dan and the new kid. The official story was faulty wiring and another nuclear meltdown on behalf of the kid, and if she was at anyplace other than Palmetto Services she’d probably be on her way out the door, doped to the gills as she was labeled too mentally unstable to go into foster care.

But she was at Palmetto Services, and it took more than sparking lights and flying chairs for them to abandon a kid in need. Dan was more determined than ever to reach her, and Andrew to figure out the truth behind one ‘Neil Josten’.

Especially since all the weird shit seemed to have started after Neil had arrived at Palmetto Services.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear – one Neil Josten walked through the door, dressed in worn, faded black jeans, running sneakers, and a large, navy blue peacoat which all but swallowed him up. He glanced around once he stepped inside the coffee shop, dark eyes darting about until he noticed Andrew in the back, then went to order something. While Andrew watched, he swore that some teenager too busy looking at his phone was shoved back a good two feet when he nearly walked into Neil’s back while he waited in line.

For someone who never was on his phone at work (that Andrew had seen) and refused to give out his number or personal information so his coworkers could message or contact him on various social media, Andrew was surprised when Josten used his phone to pay for his drink, then watched how he waited for the employee to set the drink down before he picked it up once it was ready. Hmm, did someone have a phobia? Andrew thought about all the times he’d seen Josten and couldn’t recall him willingly touching anyone.

Which made it interesting when someone tried to move their chair back from a table when Josten headed toward the back, where Andrew sat, only for that invisible… whatever around the young man to shove the woman back toward the table. Josten didn’t react, merely continued on his way and set his beverage down on the table then shrugged off his coat before he sat opposite of Andrew, appearing unconcerned at having his back to everyone.

“Minyard.”

Andrew pushed the empty plate aside and leaned back in his chair despite the slight twinge it provoked in his bruised ribs. “You have a thing for being early?”

“I was taught that it’s rude to be late,” Josten said as he wrapped his hands around his drink; he wore an overlarge dark grey sweatshirt with thumbhole sleeves, which only left the uppermost tips of his fingers exposed. “As is basically extorting them to talk to you.”

Andrew clicked his tongue together and fought the urge for a cigarette since the place was non-smoking. “Somehow I feel that’s a jab at me, but I distinctly remember us making a deal – a truth for a truth. So start talking.”

“Here. You want to talk here.” Neil’s fake brown eyes glanced around while his long, elegant fingers (well, the tips at least) tapped against the cup of what looked to be tea, judging from the printed label on it. “Brilliant.”

“Yes,” Andrew said as he switched to German. “Let’s begin with you telling me what the hell that thing was, yesterday, and don’t try to say that it’s bad wiring. I saw a chair hover in the air, and that’s not the first time weird shit has happened around the girl.”

Josten nibbled on his full bottom lip for a couple of seconds then shivered; Andrew sensed the air grow cold around them and the plate moved an inch before Josten shook his head. “It might be a bit difficult to believe.”

He didn’t seem surprised that Andrew knew German, but then again, Andrew was related to Nicky. It also spoke of Josten being highly adaptable, which was something that Andrew would have to remember for the future. “I’ve a very open mind.”

Josten scoffed at that as he brushed back the hair falling onto his face, which drew Andrew’s attention to the fact that his left cheek was swollen and red, as if he’d been smacked recently.

He hadn’t been injured when he left work yesterday.

“Open enough to believe in the supernatural?”

The question distracted Andrew from Neil’s face and made him think of the cross hanging heavy and warm around his neck before he opened his mouth and say that was ridiculous. Instead, he had a sip of his cooling coffee and remembered Renee telling him to take a ‘leap of faith’, remembered what had happened yesterday and the week before out in the parking lot. “So what is it? Superpowers or unnatural beings?” he asked instead.

It was quiet again while Josten’s gaze grew vacant for about a minute, then he shivered. “Yesterday… yesterday was what you’d call a poltergeist,” he explained as he stared at his drink as if afraid to look anywhere else.

“So a ghost.”

“No, not a ghost,” Neil snapped as he gazed at Andrew once more; for some reason Andrew took that as a victory of sorts. “Not exactly. That’s like saying a tiger is a housecat or a samurai sword is a utensil, it’s a grave misclassification.”

“And why is that?” Andrew asked, intrigued despite himself by… intrigued despite himself.

“Because… because a ghost can be harmless, can be an unfocused remnant. Not always, but sometimes, especially if their death was non-violent. Their powers also vary, it’s why you have some stories where all they do is appear now and then to people, or maybe you have things move around. Poltergeists?” Neil shivered again and paused to sip his tea. “They’re the basis of the more violent stories, of when people are hurt and things destroyed because they’re created out of violence and trauma. And if they’re attached to someone from their previous life? Then they’ll destroy whoever gets between them and that person or who they see as a threat to the person.”

Andrew wished he could have a cigarette while he thought about everything Josten had just said right then, and about what hadn’t been said. “This poltergeist is ‘attached’ to Amelia and protecting her.” Josten gave a slight nod. “It’s her brother, right? She keeps mentioning her brother’s name.”

“I believe so, which means that there’s a blood bond between them and makes it even more powerful.” Josten sighed before he had another sip of tea.

“How do you know all of this?” Andrew asked, then did some sighing of his own when Josten gave him a razor-sharp smile lacking in warmth.

“Ah-ah, I gave you quite the answer right there, so now it’s my turn.” Josten went to lay his left palm on the table but stopped the motion just short for some reason and wrapped his hand around the paper cup again. “You don’t seem to know anything about ghosts, yet something’s different about you this past week.” He studied Andrew for several seconds, his gaze intent, then let out a slight huff. “You’re wearing a ward, who gave it to you and why?”

Technically that was two questions, but Josten had been rather loquacious for once in regards to explaining about poltergeists so Andrew would let it go that time. Right then, he was curious as to how the young man had picked up on the necklace and why he was so interested in it… and hated how all his questions for Josten kept piling up. “A friend gave it to me.” When Josten regarded him with open disdain for that evasive answer, Andrew huffed. “You may have heard of Renee Walker, Reynolds’ girlfriend who’s off being a do-gooder right now. For some reason she felt that I needed a bit of faith and gave me the thing. I’d no idea that it’s a ward or whatever.” He moved slowly not only because of his ribs but to keep from spooking Neil. “What a coincidence that it’s kept something from slamming into me, ever since I put it on, hmm? My turn again. You have a poltergeist of your own or what?”

He kept his attention focused on Neil’s too-handsome face and noticed when the figurative walls went up, when those fake brown eyes hardened (was that a faint line of blue at the center?), the slight twitch to the sharp jawline – and how the table jumped a little.

“Not… not a poltergeist,” Neil admitted as if the words were forced out of him and the table thumped again. “But someone who watches over me.”

The admission surprised Andrew, who hadn’t thought that Neil would tell him the truth… but he supposed there wasn’t much else he could do, considering what had happened in the past couple of weeks. “What, you have your own Casper the not-so friendly ghost keeping you company? Who knocks people around when they get too close to you?” That was… that was insane, yet Andrew felt an odd sort of envy at the thought – what would his life had been like if he had something like that watching over him? What difference would it have made with Drake and the others? He felt a surge of bitterness for a couple of seconds before he forced the thought away, well aware that there was no changing the past.

Nei- Josten, dammit, gave a slight shrug as he once more took to staring at the cup of tea held between his hands, which he carefully removed the lid from the cup and set aside but didn’t sip from right away. “Says the man who came to a coffee shop armed with knives.” Josten glanced up again, and that time the darkness in his eyes wasn’t from the ugly contacts. “Your armbands are showing, and something tells me that they’re not a fashion statement, not with all the times I’ve caught you reaching for something on your forearms.” When Andrew went still at being called out like that, a hint of a smile hovered on Josten’s lips. “My choice of protection is just a bit more… unconventional and easier to get past metal detectors.”

So the man was observant, that was… yet another annoying thing to note down. There was also the fact that Josten could easily recognized armbands (and weapons hidden inside them) and needed a damn ghost to look after his ass, which only made him that much more intriguing. “And why would you need a ghost to look after you?”

The sharp smile made its return. “You already asked a question,” Josten reminded him.

“So I did.” Rare anger sparked inside of Andrew at being blocked like that and made him tap his fingers against the table while Josten sipped his black tea. “Well?”

Josten inclined his head a little and set the tea aside, then took to playing with the ends of his sleeves; he tugged them further over his fingers until they were all but hidden. “What do you plan to do now that you know about the poltergeist?”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he regretted not getting a second cup of mocha since it would help with the coldness surrounding the table. “Deal with it somehow.” He couldn’t risk it harming Bee again, or his brother and cousin let alone any of the children who came to Palmetto Services. “It’s too much of a danger.”

“Yes,” Josten agreed as his gaze grew unfocused for a couple of seconds. “As long as Amelia is there, it will lash out at anything it considers a threat to her, which will be most adults.” Then he stared at Andrew once more. “And me? What about me?”

Was someone worried about their own private Casper? “You seem to know an awful lot about this ghost stuff,” Andrew countered as he resisted the urge to tug on the cross which hung around his neck (as he mentally cursed out Renee for choosing such a bad time to go on sabbatical). “Do you know how to get rid of them?”

“And if I do?” Josten hedged, his expression perfectly blank.

What a shame, it seemed that despite their little game of ‘truth for truth’, Josten didn’t have much trust in Andrew. “You help me get rid of thing and keep your little Casper on a tighter leash, and I won’t say anything about your invisible friend.”

“You won’t say anything about me being involved in this or do anything about my ‘invisible friend’,” Josten countered as his eyes narrowed and the table ‘thumped’ again while there was a blast of cold air.

Andrew almost made a comment about Josten obviously being concerned about the kids if he was wasting time bartering like that… but he picked up on the tension in the young man’s shoulders and recalled how he’d been doing something in the room yesterday to fend off the poltergeist until Andrew had disrupted his concentration. Which implied that his concern was keeping Casper around as much as possible, along with the fact that he was involved in ghosts.

The first Andrew didn’t understand (well, other than people might not appreciate knowing that bad shit happened to them because of Josten’s ‘invisible friend’), but he supposed no one wanted to be known as the freak who saw dead people, or whatever. “Fine, it’s a deal,” he agreed.

He wouldn’t say anything… but Renee would be back soon enough, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t need to bring up Casper, not if she knew enough to give him the cross.

Josten regarded him with open suspicion for several seconds before he nodded. “I’m sure you’ll honor your word.” That was just a little amount of sarcasm there.

“Such a lack of trust,” Andrew chided, then clicked his tongue. “You’re the one who has Casper there try to shove a person’s ribs through their spine if they get to close yet I’m untrustworthy?”

“I told you that I was fine and you didn’t listen to me,” Josten argued. “But all right, let’s shake on it, okay?” he offered as he held out his right hand after he tugged his sleeve back enough to expose his fingers.

Andrew wasn’t big on touching people, but if it helped to speed things along…. He held out his hand and swore he felt some sort of tingle, almost like a pleasant pulse of warmth, when their skin touched; Josten’s fingers twitched against his and those false brown eyes grew vacant once again, the pupils shrunk to pinpoints (it was a ring of pale blue) before he drew in a deep, shuddering breath and pulled his hand free.

“All good now?” Andrew asked in English as Josten hastily tugged the sleeve back over his fingers.

“Yes.” The British accent was back in Josten’s voice as he wrapped his arms around his chest, as the cold grew stronger for a moment. “I think that’s enough for today.” The American accent slowly crept back into his voice, which made Andrew wonder which one was real since they both sounded authentic.

“Wait.” Andrew stood up but didn’t reach for Josten, mindful of what had happened the last time he’d done such a thing (even if he wore the cross). “What about the poltergeist?”

“I need to prepare a few things, it’s going to take a little time,” Josten said as he pushed away from the table without touching anything. He gave Andrew a curt nod as he grabbed his coat before he turned away, the cold leaving with him.

Andrew watched as some woman busy talking on her phone got pushed out of his way toward the door, which appeared to open right before he touched it, and couldn’t help but wonder just why one Neil Josten had such an attentive and over-protective ghost watching over him. Was it a deceased family member? The thought made him scoff, but perhaps. Or a childhood friend? A lover, perhaps? Josten certainly was attractive as hell, and Casper intent on keeping everyone away from the young man.

That possibility made Andrew frown as he stood in line for another mocha to help warm him up on his way home; was Josten haunted by a possessive, abusive lover? There’d been the swollen cheek that day and the scratch the previous week, not to mention how Josten kept to himself except for talking to Moreau.

Renee really needed to get her ass back to Columbia soon.

*******

#nekojitachan fic #ghost in you fic #andrew minyard #neil josten #neil sees ghosts #andrew's already falling

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