#imagine mike going to check out the remains and he sees a photo of the party ripped up in half

[positivelybyler]

thinking about how after the byler fight in st3, mike immediately biked over to wills house in the pouring rain and started banging on the door to apologize. then when he figured he wasn't home, the first place he went to find will was castle byers, because he just knows will that well. and when he reached castle byers... it was in shambles.

i just know that mike was devastated about that because i'd like to believe that mike and will spent a lot of time there together. for him, it was a symbol of the loss of childhood just as much as it was for will. it was probably also a huge slap in the face for mike because he knew that will destroyed castle byers because of him, because of their fight.

it's kinda really sad how we didn't get to see mike's or anyone's reaction, really, to castle byers being destroyed by will. and the fact that it wasn't mentioned again in the show.

#imagine mike going to check out the remains and he sees a photo of the party ripped up in half #and the photo is split exactly between mike and will #no but seriously i refuse to believe that castle byers had no other significance in the show #it better be brought up in season 5 #byler #byler endgame #byler nation #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things

[acciomalfoy]

Snowball (Will Byers x Reader)

Summary: the snowball doesn’t exactly go to plan, but things have never been easy when Will Byers is involved.

Your dad had always told you to grasp the moment, because if you didn’t, it would be gone in the blink of an eye. He taught you to not have any regrets, so when you finally did go, you’d die knowing you lived the best life you could.

He had gotten you hooked on photography from a young age. Losing your memory had always been a fear of yours, and you wanted to be able to remember moments from a single photograph that you couldn’t from memory. Your bedroom was adorned with photographs and polaroids of every moment you never wanted to forget.

Photography and the many other hobbies he had introduced to you were familiar, and like a blanket of comfort in your darkest hours. When you broke up with your first boyfriend, you had turned to your hobbies and buried yourself in photographs and other things until you had recovered from your heartbreak.

You had thought that you had understood all his wise words, and thought you had your life figured out. You had hoped and dreams that would never be lived thanks a string of fate that tied you to secrets lurking in Hawkins.

Your dad and you had a game, ten questions. Asking each other a question and vice versa. He always asked you the same question, and your reply was always instant and full of giggles.

“Okay, princess. If you could have any super power, what it would be?” A man and a little girl were lying down, facing the clouds in the local park. The seven year old giggled.

“Dad! You know I want to freeze time! One day, I’ll invent a machine to help me!” The girl said proudly, imagining a whirring machine that clunked and made her wishes come true.

You had always wanted to be able to freeze time, so you could truly live in the moment and enjoy it for however long you would like. Your mom however, was more realistic with your goals.

She had told you to never forget your childhood, and to make lots of friends. She didn’t tell you why, but you later discovered it was because once you got older, it became harder to make friends. Good ol’ mom, always looking out for you.

She told you that in the years to come, these friends would help you more than you could imagine. So you, being the curious toddler that you were, made friends with a group of children that looked like they could help you. They were all boys, so you knew they could protect you. Well, maybe except that little one. You decided in the first moment of meeting him that you’d be the one protecting him.

Now, almost ten years later to the words your mother had told you as a three-year old, you realised how true the words she had told you were. Being the budding photographer you were, you had taken a photo of your mom after her speech, so you could always remember those words. You could still remember them close to off by heart.

The last part of her speech always made you blush. She had told you that the answer to everything was love, and that once you loved someone, to hold onto them and never let go. You kept those words close to your heart, and even though she probably didn’t remember what she had said, you sure did.

“Darling, when were they going to pick you up?” Your mother asks, with a smile.

“Five minutes. But I didn’t want to be rushing around last minute.” You blow a strand of hair out of your face, careful not to move your hair too much.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful?” She asks, stifling a yawn. She often worked long shifts, and had managed to get tonight off so she could help you get ready. Your dad was currently in his office, and you had already taken photos.

“Hmmm, not enough.” You grin cheekily. Your mom laughs, and you find yourself joining in. Amidst the laughter, a knock on the door takes you back to earth. You hop up eagerly, and upon opening the door you see your best friends. Will is at the front, and your breath catches in your throat. You are so lucky to have him as your best friend. He looks shocked and you can’t seem to catch your eye.

“I thought you’d never arrive!” You say, and Lucas, Mike and Dustin beam.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Lucas says, and you all hop down off your front porch and into Steve’s car.

“Alright kids, there’s seven kids and four seats. You and Will can share the front, you’re both small.” Steve smiles at you with a proud look in his eye.

“Alright, dad.” The seven of you giggle and chatter the whole way to the Snowball, but Will doesn’t say a word to you. It’s discouraging, having your best friend of nine years ignoring you for an unknown reason, but this is the Snowball. Last year wasn’t the best, and this year has to be better.

“Have fun, kids!” Steve calls as everyone piles out of his car, onlookers eyes widening at the amount of children getting out.

“What’s the deal with Dustin’s hair?” You ask Lucas quietly. He snorts.

“No clue. He’s pretty touchy about it, let’s just accept it.” The seven kids enter the Snowball, and you can’t help but look at Will. There’s fairy lights everywhere, and everyone is glowing. You’re surprised to find him looking back at you, but he looks away quickly. A slow song is already playing, and Dustin quickly drags you out to the dance floor. Mike and El are already dancing, as are Lucas and Max.

“Dustin! This is a slow song!” You whisper to him.

“I know! Don’t worry, maybe Will will be jealous. Haha, get it? Will will.” Dustin laughs and you smile at his humour.

“I don’t know, it feels wrong liking him after everything he’s been through, you know?” You ask Dustin, who nods.

“Yeah, but you can’t help it. Even if it’s not mutual, which I’m pretty sure it is, it won’t ruin your friendship.” The song is almost over, and you and Dustin make your way over to the punch. Just as you take a mouthful, you see Will dancing with another girl. You manage to spit it on the floor, and not on Dustin, who looks relieved.

“Holy shit! Is he dating her?” You ask with wide eyes.

“I don’t even know who she is, so probably not.” Dustin doesn’t look impressed with the girl dancing with Will. Your Will.

“What do we do?” You ask urgently.

“Fuck! How am I meant to know?” Dustin looks equally stressed out as you.

“My life is over. Does she know what he’s been through?” The pair of you are currently shooting them dirty looks, and quickly avert your eyes when they start to walk over to you.

“Abort fucking mission!” Dustin hisses.

“I’m leaving! Tell them I’m going to piss-“

“Hi guys!” Will says happily. You shoot Dustin a dirty look, but he’s too busy giving the girl Will brought over the up-down look.

“This is Gabby. She’s not in any of our classes, that’s why we’ve never met her.” Will introduces her, and you struggle to force out a fake smile. Dustin looks like he’s struggling a whole lot more.

“Nice to meet you. I actually have to um, pee, so I’ll catch you later.” You manage to escape quickly, and shoot Dustin a triumphant smirk from behind their backs. He glares, and when you turn around you run into someone. Literally.

“Shit! Sorry, you alright?” You blurt out, and the stranger with twinkling eyes offers you a hand. A good looking stranger, at that.

“Depends what your definition is. Care for a dance, stranger?” He asks. It’s a bit straight forward, but anything to get your mind off Gabby will do.

“Sure do.” He leads you to the dance floor, when the song Dancing On My Own comes on. (aware this wasn’t released around then lol) The strangers hands are around your waist, and you reluctantly place your hands around his shoulders. You’re unaware of Dustin and Will talking furiously in the corner.

“So, what’s your name?” You ask him. You were never one for small talk, but awkward silences are just too much.

“Dean. If you don’t mind me asking, whose the boy in the corner?” He asks, eyes flickering to behind you.

“Um, let me check. Why, aren’t you from around here?” You ask, turning around to see your best friend staring at you, an unreadable look in his eyes. He catches your glance, and bolts out of the room. You turn around to face Dean.

“No. I’m someone’s plus one, but they unfortunately took a liking to someone else here.” Dean is saying.

“That’s Will. He’s my best friend.” You say, swaying to the music.

“Best friend, or boyfriend? Because the way he was looking at you..” Dean trails off.

“Uh, I better go find him. Thanks for the dance, Dean!” You let go of Dean and rush off to the exit that you see Will disappear through.

“Will? Will!” You call into the night. Night had always been your favourite time, with inky blackness covering all the problems in the world, waiting till morning to be revealed again.

You were about to give up when you saw a small silhouette against the sparkling sky. Will was just up ahead.

“Will? Are you alright?” You ask softly. Will looks at you as you sit down beside him. His face is tear stained and you can almost hear your heart breaking.

“No.” He whispers. You try not to cry over the broken boy in front of you.

“Wh-What’s wrong?” That question seems to set him off.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong? You’re what’s wrong!” Will shouts, and he pauses. “-I thought after everything I’ve been through, I might finally get the girl.”

“I-I don’t know what’s wrong but we can get through it, together.” You try to reassure him, but he stands up. You follow him quickly.

“No, we can’t. Whatever we had, it’s over. It won’t work, not now, and not until the impossible happens.” Will has his mouth set in a thin line, and you frown.

“What’s the impossible? We can make it happen.” You ask curiously. You were willing to go the ends of the earth if you and Will could remain best friends. Will mumbles something inaudible.

“Sorry?” You ask.

“You liking me back! I have a crush on you! Are you happy now?” Will starts shouting again.

“Will! Seriously? I’ve liked you for so long, for almost two years.” You were reluctant in admitting this, but Will has started to walk away. He freezes, and whirls around to face you again.

“Wh-What?” He asks softly. You two stare at each other for a moment, before rushing into each other’s arms. Later, much later at your wedding, Dustin will say it’s thanks to him that you got together. Maybe it’s true, but giving Dustin a bigger head than he already has won’t do him much good.

#will byers #will byers x reader #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

What about a character analysis of Will Byers? :)

Will is my favorite character, no question. I identify with him for a few reason, too. I’m not sure I can do an analysis that is without bias, but I’ll give you what I have. I’ve done works on Will before here and here. You may want to check them out.  Will’s development has been largely influenced by two things: his family and his friends. A broken family can be hard on anyone. Combine that with poverty, sexual identity issues, and being bullied for being “a queer” we have a perfect storm that could lead to anxiety and/or depression. Fortunately, Will has a loving mother and brother, and some very good friends. Jonathan has been a supportive mentor. Joyce has been a loving caregiver. His friends accept and care about him. This all leads to him being a very sweet boy despite what he’s gone through. He hates to see his friends fight. He risks his life to warn his mother of the Demogorgon. He shows concern for Jonathan’s hand despite having just woken up in the hospital himself. He values all of these people, though one person seems to stand out: Mike. Will met Mike on the first day of kindergarten. It was a memory that was clearly dear to Mike, as he recalled it easily, but it was shown to be special to Will as well. Mike’s story is the one that seemed to break through to Will. You can see Will, under the influence of the mindflayer, staring blankly as Mike starts his story, but by the end his eyes look red and glossy, and his mouth is trembling. It doesn’t last, but somehow Mike got through to him. Will trusts Mike completely. He confides in Mike his misgivings about Dart. He’s the only one who Will tells about the Shadow Monster and the return of the Upside Down threat. He calls out for Mike when he finds himself in the Upside Down during Halloween. He remembers Mike when his memory starts to be consumed by the Mindflayer. He’s even compelled to be honest about rolling a 7 on his Fireball, despite Lucas urging him to keep it from Mike. Will’s total faith in Mike is what makes his pain so great in Season 3. While there are signs that Will is still important to Mike, he takes a backseat whenever Mike and El are together. His hurt is clear when Mike is indifferent about his D&D campaign, and he breaks down when Mike finds a way to end it prematurely. During the fight in the garage, Will lets his feelings fly. Mike is ruining everything so he can spend time making out with El. He isn’t shown being so angry with Lucas, despite him also not taking the game seriously. It’s not that Will doesn’t like Lucas. Mike is simply that important to him, and he’s watching him drift away. Will is stopped in his tracks when Mike lets the big gun out: “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” This is the final straw for Will. He always imagined a life with Mike, and he’s basically being told that he was silly to even think that. He flees to Castle Byers where he attempts to comfort himself, but he’s surrounded by memories of his life with Mike. He recollects Mike narrating a campaign while looking around his sanctum. He tears up a photo of the Party from Halloween, the rip going directly between himself and Mike. When he destroys his hideaway though, his anger is directed at himself. For the life of me, I can’t find it, but I know I some something once where Noah Schnapp said that the most important person in Will’s life is Mike. Unfortunately, trying to search for Schnapp talking about Will brings up a million hits of him ducking the question of his sexuality. Now we can’t trust everything an actor says, as they often misdirect, but they will generally be given character notes to help them portray their role as the writers intend. Based on what we see, this statement certainly seems to be true. Will is absolutely jealous every time he witnesses Mike and El together. The others get annoyed with how Mike ditches them for El, but Will is shown sad, distraught. He thought asking to be his friend was the best thing Mike had ever done, but Mike basically said that it was inevitable that girls would change everything. Despite not being shown any closure between them, Will seems to have made a peace with Mike by the time the Byers move. He donates his D&D set to Erica, expressing to Mike that he’d just use his when he comes back. This tells us that Will not only expects to return, but that he doesn’t intend to play with anyone else. He assures Mike that it’s not possible for him to find a new party. This seems to be a coded conversation where Will is promising Mike that he’s irreplaceable. It’s a brief, but somewhat nervous, conversation. They both seem a little uneasy at what the other may say, afraid that the move could mean the end of them. In the end they are both reassured, and part with matching smiles. Will has managed to reconcile Mike’s place in his life in one way or another. Only time will tell what exactly that looks like, but Mike’s importance in Will’s life remains a powerful force.  Will loves Mike. He may not fully grasp it yet, but he does. This may be a terrifying revelation for him. It’s not an accepting time for gay kids, and his father already looked down on him for perceived homosexuality. My hope for Season 4 is to see him go down this road and come out happy on the other side. 

#stranger things #will byers #byler #byeler

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (5)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

The days are the same and fortunately for you, no further attempted aggression has been committed on you. But it's not the police you have to thank for that, but just yourself. Because when you tried to file a complaint against your attacker, all the police were able to tell you was that there was nothing they could do. Because as you bear no stigma, no trace of blow ... there would be no point in filing a complaint. You sigh just by thinking about it, decidedly the mentality of some police officers will always surprise you. You really wonder what criteria they are recruited on.  

While you were serving a few clients, your gaze was slowly moving towards Jed, leaning over those drafts blackened by his pencil. God he’s beautiful when he is focused... something about him attracts you when he's in that state. But now is not the time to be lost in your thoughts! Let's stay professional first! you walk towards him a tea in hand that you lay on the table, bringing him out of his concentration. He gave you a smile, that angelic smile that could melt all hearts. We remain professional I said!

“I think it'll do you the greatest good, three coffees in a row could turn you into a ball of nerve. always immersed in your research about this ... Hoggins?” You said looking down to the papers.

“Yeah, I need to know a couple of things about him for this reception...so I could more easily slip into the crowd and rummage through his stuff without him noticing anything. Can you imagine if I find anything compromising about this story? This will create the biggest scandal this city... this state has never known.” he responds with some enthusiasm.

“You could also be killed so no one knows. That Hoggins is a very influent man. He could hire someone to kill you and your peers, like that bastard... Forget it. I can’t believe what the police told me... What are they waiting for? that I'm dying to act?”  

“This the reason why I rather fend for myself and solve problems in my own way. and that's what I plan to do with Mike. he thinks he can belittle me and hit me with impunity, he is seriously mistaken. I'll take the time it takes, but one day I'll give him back the blows he'll take from me.” He replies putting his glasses back.  

“Well, not so shy as I thought after all.”

“I am someone who interacts with people based on how they act with me. If they put me lower than earth ... I do the same.”  

He sipped his tea while putting a little order on the table. You can't help but look at his piercing blue eyes, so attractive, that's what makes all his charm, his major asset. When they stared at you, you feel your cheeks blush slightly and with a little embarrassed laugh, you get up and start heading to the counter ready to welcome new customers.

“You know...” Jed starts making you stop and turn to him. “I was thinking... that you could go with me to this reception. If I say you're with me, I don't think it's going to be a problem.” he said with a little smile.  

“What?? Me?? Jed I... It’s really nice of you but...I’m not a journalist and even less a girl from high society. I wouldn't feel like I belong there. And then I might embarrass you in your work...I don’t know if it’s a really good idea.” you answer putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why not? I'm going to have a good night at this reception too. But knowing Melina and Mattew, they're going to go their own way and leave me alone lost in the middle of people I don't know. So, if I can share it with a friend... And chat with someone I like and know... I'd rather you came.”  

“Well...okay. Thanks Jed. I appreciate that you've thinking about me.”

The door opened and a woman entered the café. Given the outfit she was wearing, she was either working in the office or she was a businesswoman. But a horrible thrill pierced you when you saw in the distance Mc Kellan a smile on the corner. Whoever this woman is, this scumbag knows her for sure.

“Are you the owner of The Nebula?” said the woman by looking around her.

“Yes. Can I help you?” you answer a little worried.

“Let me introduce myself: Mrs Alice Milton. Hygiene inspector. Mr. Kellan has informed me that you are not complying with certain health measures and I am here to check. You don't mind, do you?

“No... Not at all.” you said, trying to stay calm.  

Mrs Milton began to do his inspection. She checked every table, every seat, every window. No object escaped his gaze. Then she went to the back shop to check the reserves and worktops. She wrote down two or three things on her notebook and went on.

You observe her, the fear in your stomach, trembling slightly to the simple fact that she could make fall the cleaver on you. You suddenly feel a hand resting on your shoulder, it was Jed's. He gave you a big smile to reassure you, calm your fears and make you understand that whatever she says, he will help you.

Mrs. Milton put away her belongings without saying a word, then left the café to go to McKellan. From the counter you could see them chatting, Mc Kellan didn't look happy and the young woman tried to calm him down. You'd like to be a pigeon or a fly to find out what they're telling each other.

Suddenly you see Mc Kellan driving away without Mrs. Milton. This one came back to the café but for some reason, you feel more comfortable...as if she were just becoming a customer like the others. And this was confirmed when she smiled at you, a reassuring smile, a friendly smile.  

“You can breathe now, he's gone. I'm sorry I did this with you. But I had to stay professional in front of him. You are not Horace's first victim. Can I?” She said, looking at Jed’s table.  

“Sure.” Jed simply said.

“You look like... not to appreciate him either.” you said while keeping your distance.

“Not really. Horace trusts very few people. He's a very selfish man. Who wants to impose his laws and his manners on everyone. and as soon as someone dares to oppose him... He's calling on me to ‘make the vermin flow’. As I said, you’re not the first one on his list, and you won’t be the last.”

“I have no doubt about that. Coffee?” you ask her before filling her a cup when she nodded. “What did you say to him? Outside.”

“That I found nothing. And as always, he was upset. I said I'll continue my search...But don’t worry I won't do anything. On the other hand, be careful, He’s not likely to give up so easily. And if he gets more upset, he'll make you killing and throwing in Dry Creek.”

Jed says nothing but Danny burns internally, if someone has the right to kill you...It’s him and ONLY him. That's one more reason to kill McKellan. This guy is not only dangerous for you, but for Danny's reputation. There can only be one killer here and Danny is not the type to share the scene. Danny has no choice. He has to get rid of Mc Kellan first. Mike can wait a bit.  

“What can I do?” you ask worried.  

“Do nothing toward him. Everything you do, he’ll turn it against you. And he’ll get what he wants. I suggest you to protect yourself. Or at least not to be alone in case he'll send you another assailant. Always have something to defend yourself. Or someone.” said Mrs Milton.

You nodded and after a few minutes of conversation, Mrs Milton leaves the coffee, wishing you good luck. You clean Jed's table, who was tidying up his belongings, getting ready to leave. He wrote something on a sheet which he handed you with a little smile. You tilt your head to the side, an eyebrow raised.

“My phone number, in case you’ll need something. Or just want to talk.” He said.  

“Jed come on...I can...” you start to answer before seeing he’s insisting. You sight, taking the sheet on your hand. “Fine...Thanks Jed. I’ll owe you one. More than one in fact.”

“I know you’ll help me someday. So, don’t worry. Oh and... I love your praline and coconut cake. A strange but very interesting mix.” he said before leaving, weaving his hand with that angelic smile on his face.

The rest of the day took place and it must be admitted that it was quite sporty. It's hard to handle so many people on your own. But until you have some financial stability, you can't hire someone at the moment. After your usual closing ritual, you go home. Next goal:  buys a pepper spray or a small knife, just in case.

You pick up your mail and go back to your apartment. What a relief to finally be at home. You put your belongings on the couch, the letters in a bowl dedicated to your mail and you head to the kitchen. Family's photos decorated some walls of the apartment reviving wonderful memories... But also, painful wounds. Homemade carbonara pasta for the evening will suit perfectly. it is rare that you take industrial products. As you put all the ingredients on the worktop, the phone rang.

Who can call you at this hour? You don't remember giving someone your landline number since you arrived. You ignore the call and go back to your business when it rang again. Someone's really trying to reach you. You take the handset of the phone determined to know who can call you at this time. Every time, it's a number error.

“Hello? Who’s on the phone?” you said.

“Oh. You're not my aunt. Sorry I got the wrong number.” respond the other person on the phone.  

Jackpot.

“It doesn't matter, it happens to everyone. Good night.” you replied as start to hang up.  

“Wait, wait!  Can... can we talk a little bit more? I never heard such a beautiful voice like yours before.”  

“Quite a charmer, are you? Well, if you want. if it can make you happy.” You answer with a little laugh.

“Thanks. It's rare for people who take the time to chat with strangers on the phone. Usually, they hang up immediately or never respond. Nice shirt by the way.”  

" well, it's usually rare to answer numbers that...” You start before realizing what he said last. “excuse me...What did you just say?”

“I said nice shirt. Purple suits you well.”

“H-how do you know that?”  

“... Raise your head.”

You gradually raise your head and face the building in front of yours. In the window that faced yours, you see him. A man with a white mask was there, tilting his head waving his hand to say hello.

“See me now?” He chuckles.

“Who the f*** are you ??” You respond even if you already know the answer.  

“What a lovely language...Well, I'm sure you already know the answer but if you insist. You can call me: Ghostface. I think I'm gonna call you...”

“what do you want?”

“Just talk. As I said, I never heard such a beautiful voice before...and never see such a pretty face like yours too.”

“call a prostitute if you want to chat, you freaking weirdo.” You replied ready to hang up.

“Tsk tsk. No no no my little star...if you hang up...you won’t see the sun rise tomorrow. Or your dear nerdy friend won’t see it.”

“Leave Jed alone! It’s between you and me! if you dare to touch him, I swear...” you say angrily before hearing him laugh.  

“Calm down my sweet little star... The truth is, I don't intend to touch him. It is thanks to him that I have acquired this beautiful but sinister reputation. He makes me the star of Roseville. We need each other. But let's talk about you. I must admit that I find it difficult to understand how such beauty as you live in such city. You must have a good reason.”

“It’s none of your business. I can ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I want to leave a trace in this miserable world. I want everyone remember my name. But for that I have to move across all the country. You know what? I'm going to let you live for now. But I advise you not to tell the police about our little conversation. It will pain me a lot to disfigure such a pretty face ... and a pretty body. And don't worry, we'll meet again. Good night my sweet little star... Have a beautiful dream.” He said chuckling before hanging up.  

You hang up the phone on the table and when you look back at the window, he was gone. Like a shadow in the night. You take a deep breathe, rubbing your face in your hands and sit on the sofa. Deep down, you felt that sooner or later you would face him. But not so quickly. Fortunately for you, he is not determined to make you a new victim of his macabre round. But for how long? you hope for as late as possible.

Unknowingly, my dear little star you fell into the spider's web. Without knowing it you have caught the attention of the devil.  

And that's just the beginning.

***

(Done! I'm glad to see you like it! And I hope it will continue! By the way I recently watched The Boy and discovered that dear Brahms~ And I must confess that he does not leave me indifferent. What a lovely British accent he has~ See ya! )  

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #danny johnson #jed olsen #ghostface

[mprjanedoe]

Hi there folks. I really did not intend to make this blog a regular update situation. I intended for the information to be out there for those to read and that really be the end of it. But a number of noteworthy things have happened and I feel they are worth talking about.

Please repost this if you see this.

Nothing in this post is legal advice directed to anyone or from anyone. I am not a lawyer. I know lawyers, I have spoken with lawyers, I am reading what lawyers have to say – but this is not legal advice.

I am here expressing my opinion on this situation and how it has been handled.

At no point in talking about this, in any correspondence on this blog, my twitter, or my Instagram, has my intent been malicious. I am not talking about all of this with the intention of saying any of it to harm Michael, or any members of Steam Powered Giraffe. And I would venture to say that Bunny and David, when they’ve spoken about what Michael’s done, also had no intention of harming Michael by speaking about this. It is a pervasive and toxic myth that the vast majority of people who would ever speak out about abuse have something to gain from doing so. I have absolutely nothing to gain from this. Even in my personal life – non-anonymously, I have nothing to gain from this. I am putting myself at risk of retaliation in various forms. I am doing this because I care about the people Michael harmed, myself included – and they all, we all, deserve the respect and dignity of people knowing what happened in our path to healing and recovery from the lasting harm caused by Michael.

I was informed by multiple people, publicly, and privately/anonymously that Michael has threatened legal action against Steam Powered Giraffe LLC and has used the word “libel” to describe what legal action he may choose to take. This is likely the reason Bunny chose to delete her tweets about Michael. I have been asked to remove the public conversation around this. I am not going to do so. The person who publicly mentioned this to me deserves no negative attention for doing so. The access fans and supporters get to SPG when becoming patrons is merely a paywall.

So let’s talk about Michael’s response, and let’s talk about libel. Libel is the legal term for written defamation of character. The legal definition of defamation is as such: “Generally, defamation is a false and unprivileged statement of fact that is harmful to someone's reputation, and published "with fault," meaning as a result of negligence or malice. Libel is a written defamation.”

Steam Powered Giraffe has mentioned on public posts on Patreon that Michael has “denied everything”. Steam Powered Giraffe has mentioned on public posts on Patreon, verbatim: “The evidence is far from unfounded. It's all damning and there is no ifs, ands, or buts about it. The evidence is overwhelming.” (sic)

I do not know who all has reached out to Steam Powered Giraffe’s members and what they have all come forward with about what Michael has done. I only know what I have experienced, what I have personally witnessed (in person, and online/over the phone), and what I have been told (and shown, in photos, texts, chatlogs, etc) from other victims. I have no reason to believe Steam Powered Giraffe is hyperbolizing, exaggerating, or making anything up about the situation. I also have made no hyperbole or exaggeration. To my knowledge, there is a significant amount of evidence and a significant number of victims to prove that Michael has caused the harm that has been spoken about. There is no indication that Steam Powered Giraffe has posted anything that is not true about him in this situation. That in and of itself, nullifies the idea that there is libel occurring.

In addition to this – as I said earlier, I have nothing to gain from this. I am at risk of more harm in this. Steam Powered Giraffe as an entity also has nothing to gain from this. From what they’ve said, it appears they have not been working with Michael for a while, and while I imagine some sort of legal residual financial situation for royalties will have to remain in place, what I cannot imagine is that Steam Powered Giraffe is paying Michael so much in royalties that they would lie or seek to tarnish his image just to find a way not to pay him. Steam Powered Giraffe is also at risk for talking about him, and it is a financial risk to put their reputation on the line for being associated with him for a number of years to talk about this.

In my opinion, Michael’s threat is at best, an empty one, and at worst, a foolish one. Legal action of any kind is expensive. From what I’ve read, a libel/defamation lawsuit can cost on average $15,000, over a process of at the least $1,000 a month to pursue. Not to mention Michael is not in the US anymore, and we’re in the middle of a pandemic where legal cases are not as easy to just initiate and process. In addition to this, much of what Michael has done, that I can personally state I know there is proof of, was and is illegal. Statutory rape, possession and distribution of illegal drugs, providing alcohol to minors – all of these things were and are illegal. To initiate a process where Steam Powered Giraffe would be in a position to present the burden of proof of what he’s done, would be a significant risk to “open up a can of worms”, so to speak. It would not be in Michael’s best interest financially or personally to pursue legal action against Steam Powered Giraffe LLC or anyone talking about the things he has done.

It is not uncommon for perpetrators of abuse to threaten legal action in an attempt to silence victims and those who would bring their actions to light. In the case of directly attempting to silence victims, there are laws called Anti SLAPP laws. SLAPP stands for “A strategic lawsuit against public participation is a lawsuit intended to censor, intimidate, and silence critics by burdening them with the cost of a legal defense until they abandon their criticism or opposition. In the typical SLAPP, the plaintiff does not normally expect to win the lawsuit. “ These laws and these types of lawsuits typically are talking about domestic violence cases wherein an abusive spouse threatens legal action to try to prevent a victim from seeking help and talking about the abuse they’ve experienced or are experiencing. This does not apply directly here, but it is an indicator that these behaviors from abusive people are not necessarily a rare occurrence.

I have some grievances about how Steam Powered Giraffe – namely David and Bunny, are handling this situation. Is it reasonable for the Bennetts to make sure to cover their brand and their *assets*? Absolutely. But not everything is black and white. I believe that not enough is being done by David and Bunny to appropriately make it known the harm Michael has caused. This is a morality issue, and I know not everyone has the same morals as I do, but I would hope with the things David and Bunny appear to stand for, that they would care more about Michael’s victims than Michael’s threats or the potential at Steam Powered Giraffe being looked at negatively by being associated with Michael. Here’s the thing – Michael’s harm cannot be divorced from his associated with Steam Powered Giraffe, and Steam Powered Giraffe handling this appropriate and respectfully would make people who care about things like this respect and admire SPG more. Currently, it feels as though SPG is more committed to doing the absolute bare minimum and focusing the rest of their attention on protecting themselves from a perceived threat as opposed to caring about the severity of the situation and doing their part to help the victims.

David said, in a tweet on July 3rd: (I have not checked to see if this tweet is still up) “I’d trade everything with Steam Powered. Giraffe if it meant I could go back in time and stop Mike from joining the band in 2009, so he might not hurt anyone”

David said on a tweet on June 30th “I feel sick having hired him for gigs in 2017, knowing this all now” and in another tweet “To know what he was actually doing sickens me”

Bunny has also stated a number of emotional and remorseful things which have mostly since been deleted:

She stated that she “almost couldn’t” love him anymore (in the past) because of “the sheer panic attacks” she got “around him and fans”

She said “I know the band wasn’t harboring an abuser knowingly or anything like that, but it’s hard not to feel like I was. I will be asking myself that for. The rest of my life. I should’ve said something. I should of stood my ground. We had nothing to go off of except an irate fan and a girl who didn’t want to press charges or do anything about it”

Bunny also said – presumably on behalf of SPG as a whole: “We’re talking, we’re listening, and we’re horrified at the accusations against Mike”

She also said “I can’t express my disgust. I can’t express the rage and hurt I have inside of me boiling up” and “I will fucking tear down this band and burn it to the ground if that gets the fucking bile out of my mouth” and “I’m watching this bastion of hope we created be sordid by someone we let in… gave the benefit of doubt to… MULTIPLE TIMES. I don’t know if SPF will ever be the same for me – every guitar lick… every phat beat he wrote. Tainted.”

David said in a tweet “We stand with the victims who have come forward to us privately, publicly, and those that haven’t.”

Bunny said “This is something that will haunt for years. I’m personally energized to spend the remainder of my life contrary to what Mike and people like Mike do. When the world heals and touring begins again, know that if you take advantage of our audience, we will be there with other performers like us to hold you accountable. And our audience. And your audience.”

On July 12th, Bunny said “The best part of this is that Steve and Mike get away scot free. They don’t get their comeuppance. I dunno if “vengeance” is the way to live life, but I know for a fact the next decade is going to be spent finding my own happiness in truth and loyalty.” “Mike has denied it all, even in the fact of damning evidence. We gave him the benefit of doubt too, and we contacted his family. No regrets, no justice in the slightest. And there are still people singing his praises”. She goes on: “Trying to describe my feelings on Steve and Mike’s behavior and how for years I’ve defended them… all the while being lied to is… heartbreaking to say the least. I know things are confusing, but you can’t make this shit up”

On the specifics of Michael’s behavior: “Mike’s stuff is so much worse. I was afraid Mike’s underage grooming habits would be somehow lessened or forgotten in the wake of Steve’s behavior back in the day… which while deplorable, have at least been owned up to.” “Stringing together tweets is the worst way to address all this, but I suppose a video about it or something down the line is called for. Right now I’m far too upset and rattled to reflect on it all. I don’t know how SPG will be salvaged from all this”.

Why am I repeating all of this? I want it to be cleared that David and Bunny expressed remorse, disgust, regret, anger, grief, shame in all of this. I see that. I acknowledge that. And in seeing these statements, I trusted them to handle this in the best way they could manage. But it also needs to be acknowledged that there has been a harmful failure on their part in how they’ve responded beyond these tweets. I am not the expert on how best to handle horrible situations like this, but as both a victim and an ally to other victims and a person who has been a fan of SPG before, I think I know enough to say that not enough has been done, and inaction in and of itself causes harm as well.

I’d also like to address the unfortunate situation that David and Bunny maintain they had no prior knowledge of Michael’s behavior. Here’s the thing: while I 100% believe they did not know all of the details of all of the harm Michael caused, there were definitive patterns and red flags and there needs to be actual accountability around this. Bunny said that the band gave Michael the benefit of doubt multiple times. She also said that Michael was caught and reprimanded for kissing a teenage fan in 2011. If my math is correct, at the time Michael would’ve been 25 and the fan was 17. That’s nearly a decade of difference, despite the fan being almost 18. On top of this, this was a fan and a minor and not only is there a power dynamic at play with age but also setting and influence. Bunny also mentioned Michael had been reprimanded for being “too friendly” around fans as young as 14. As an adult in my 20s, if I had a peer and friend my age who had a pattern of getting friendly with teenagers and minors of any age, that would be a huge red flag. Let ALONE a bandmate, a coworker or sorts – or technically a contractor level employee. I would see anyone like that as a liability I could not take the risk of associating with, and as a likely dangerous man to be around. That was an entire decade ago, and nothing was done beyond a slap of the wrist. On top of this, as someone who was Michael’s friend, I went to multiple Steam Powered Giraffe shows to support him. I also was apart of online fan communities as well. I saw how visible he was with his predatory “friendliness” towards young fans, and I saw fans gossip about his friends and give them a sort of adjacent celebrity status as well. While I was young and being manipulated myself and not in a position to prevent harm – I am saying this to state that I witnessed the public visibility of Michael’s predatory behavior. I take issue with the claim that there were no signs and that no one could’ve prevented this sooner. I’ve seen some fans say that Michael would’ve “always been this way” and found ways to harm other people had he not been in Steam Powered Giraffe. While this could be true, it cannot be denied that being apart of a successful band like Steam Powered Giraffe that gained a cult status online and in the local scene and had a significant YEARS of DAILY exposure in a family setting to minors, cultivating a fandom of a significant amount of younger fans, giving Michael the upper hand of minor celebrity and influence, travel, etc, cannot be divorced from this situation. This is not inherently Bunny or David’s fault. But it is a factor in the breadth of harm Michael was able to do, and it is a factor in knowing there were opportunities for him to have had the resources he gained and used to cause harm pulled from him much sooner than now, when he has already removed himself from the band as it stands.

The past is the past. It cannot be changed. As David and Bunny both lamented that they’d go back and stop things if they could’ve, well yes, to a degree, there were opportunities to prevent further harm, but it’s too late now. Now is the time to make things right, and to prevent the potential for further harm.

Currently – there is absolutely not enough publicly visible and available information on the harm Michael has caused on Steam Powered Giraffe’s social media presence. This is made worse by the fact that consistent promo and every day band stuff creates a wider and wider gap between the leftover posts about Michael’s abuse on Twitter, Facebook, and Patreon. It is now becoming a game of chance whether a fan of Steam Powered Giraffe will know what Michael has done. I have seen numerous posts and tweets from fans asking what happened, saying they are confused and in the dark. It has been less than 3 weeks since Bunny first tweeted about this, and it cannot fade to memory.

It is unfair and grotesque for fans of all ages, including children and parents of children, to unknowingly hold Michael dear in their hearts as an admirable, safe, kindhearted person – without knowing what he has done. It is unfair to not let people decide for themselves whether they still look up to him, whether they still admire him, whether they still support him. Michael’s victims cannot safely have a platform to speak openly about his violence without harming themselves by being exposed to backlash and being triggered by repeated exposure to their traumas out in the open. However, Michael’s victims deserve to have their voices heard, their grievances aired, and deserve to get some slight respite after years of abuse at least knowing that what they suffered is no longer a secret and people are not *unknowingly* offering praise and fame to someone who has done such disgusting and lastingly harmful things.

Bunny expressed that Steve and Michael got off “scot free” and that there was “no justice”. I am not advocating that SPG or myself or any of Michael’s victims be the ones to make any attempt at giving Michael consequences for his actions or enacting justice. However, Bunny and David can do things to make the burden of harm lighter.

Here is what I believe can and should be done, at the least, to do the right thing in this situation:

-SPG needs to make public statement(s) about Michael’s harmful actions on ALL public social media. Not just Patreon and not just the statements that have already been made. These statements should not be deleted.

-Michael’s likeness should be removed from all SPG’s media, within the realm of whatever royalties or residual contractual obligations will allow

-SPG should take a moratorium on normal fandom posts: promotion posts, art prompts, casual band updates on band specific pages. Every promo post, every art prompt, every band announcement will detract further and bury the information if not given the space and respect to allow the information to be seen and processed. The moratorium should at the very least last a week, if not more.

-I and Michael’s victims that I know would appreciate the original statement of harm reposted on Steam Powered Giraffe’s social media.  I remind David and Bunny that doing so does not make them legally liable for MY statement, and some fans who have read this statement have also directly encouraged SPG to repost. David and Bunny’s words cannot properly convey the direct harm caused to Michael’s victims. The victims deserve to be heard directly. Using Steam Powered Giraffe’s platform to make this known, the same platform that helped enable Michael to cause harm, is a respectful course of action.

-I also encourage David and Bunny to reflect on their role in allowing Michael to “get away scot free” in this. I have no specifics of personal accountability to ask of them, but I do encourage them to not focus on guilt or shame that cannot be fixed, but to really process this and do what they can to learn and grow from this and not allow the chance of letting harm occur again.

I know this was an extremely long post, and if you stuck through it all, thank you.

I hope that actions are taken in the right direction, and I hope I will have less commentary to offer on the situation in the future so I can focus on healing.  

#steam powered giraffe #steam powered giraffe fan #steampunk #spg fan #spg #michael philip reed #mprjanedoe #mpr #merker #michael reed #mike reed #make believe #david michael bennett #david bennett #isabella bunny bennett #bunny bennett #steve negrete

[moodyvalentinestories]

Direction – Three | Hunt x HWU MC (Danielle)

Summary: Thomas and Danielle reminisce about the past and make a deal. 

Words: 1800+

Notes: Y’all, remember when I was writing Wherefore Art Thou My Professor? and thought it was an absolute trainwreck? I think I’ve found its worthy successor because this is so much worse (in the best way, if you ask me). I keep getting hella sidetracked and even though I know how it’s gonna end, I have NO IDEA what my brain decides to do with the middle part. So stay tuned, I guess.

❥ Previous Parts: Prologue | One | Two  ❥ Moodyvalentine’s Masterlist

Danielle was almost certain that Hunt would freak upon seeing her collection of photos from her time at Hollywood U. He wasn’t in all of them – not even half of them, really – but she did have quite a few pictures of him. Nonetheless, she felt like she at least owed it to him to let him see them. “Okay. I’ll get my laptop,” she said and got up from her chair.

“Please tell me you did not store them online,” Hunt replied, rather condescendingly.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, no, I saved them to the most easily hackable cloud I could find. Jesus, Hunt, the ones you’re worried about are all safely stored on an encrypted flash drive. Stop assuming the worst of me for two seconds, would you?”

He mumbled something she didn’t understand – and she was sure that was for the better – while she retrieved her laptop and the flash drive.

“You’ll have to promise me not to tell a soul about the things you may see on this,” Danielle said when she returned, and Hunt raised an eyebrow.

“What exactly am I going to see?” he asked.

She shrugged as she plugged the drive into her laptop. “I’m not sure. I’ll try not to show you any things that don’t concern you, but these are pretty much all the photos I’ve bought off paparazzi that some people might not want to see published.”

“I didn’t know you did that,” Hunt remarked while she unlocked the flash drive.

Danielle chuckled. “What, you thought I needed you to save my ass all the time? You know, I try to learn from my mistakes.”

“Could have fooled me,” he huffed.

“Do you want to see the pictures or not? I know I fucked up, you don’t have to remind me,” she said and got up. “Scoot over. I’m not letting you go through them alone.”

Hunt reluctantly did as she told him, and she sat down on the sofa, closer than he probably would have liked her to be. But there were things on there she certainly did not want him to see.

There were several folders on Danielle’s flash drive, and though Thomas didn’t have a chance to get a good look at them before she’d clicked on the one titled Centaurus Lost, he had a fairly decent idea of just how many people’s photographs she had kept out of the press – and therefore just how many people she could have under her thumb, were she ever to stoop to Montmartre’s level.

One of the folders he had seen was titled Chris, which should have been the least surprising as Danielle and Chris Winters had dated for some years during her time at the university, but considering the images Thomas had seen of the two in magazines, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what could be found inside. The other folders, as far as he could tell from the short glimpse he’d caught of them, all bore the names of either projects she’d worked on – such as Centaurus Lost – or of her friends. And, all of a sudden, Thomas had to re-evaluate what he knew of Danielle.

That she had kept so much from being leaked to the public was admirable, but the fact that she had kept everything was certainly cause for concern. Perhaps she truly was capable of worse than he’d thought.

“Most of these aren’t pictures of you,” Danielle said once the contents of the folder – multiple hundreds of images – had fully loaded. “In fact, almost all of them are of Holly and Mike. I’m actually quite surprised by how many I could get, considering the whole thing with May.”

Thomas simply nodded along, beginning to feel somewhat uneasy. Many of the photographs of Tanner and Holly could have very well been used to support May Gordon’s narrative, had she ever got her hands on it. It made sense, of course, that Danielle would have wanted to keep them from being leaked at the time, seeing as it was her film as well, but now… now she could very well release them, and likely make good money speaking about everything that happened behind the scenes. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what she could do with whatever images she had of him.

She would be able to spin a pretty story, he was sure of it, and come out unscathed, while he… well, considering that many a despicable Hollywood giant got what they deserved these days, he was sure he could easily be lumped in with the lot of them, and his career – or what was left of it – would be over.

Because Thomas knew he’d made some questionable decisions while working with Danielle, and though they had never quite become friends – or, God forbid, more than friends – they had been closer than they probably should have been during that time, and he was certain the photos she had reflected that.

“How many are there?” he eventually asked while Danielle was scrolling through the images to find the ones they were looking for.

“Potentially incriminating ones? Two or three, I would say,” she said nonchalantly, which did nothing to alleviate his concerns.

Had she perhaps been lying again? Had she given the photographs to Montmartre after all? She’d seemed upset before, but she was an actress, and as much as Thomas believed he was skilled enough at reading people to tell whether or not they were putting on an act… Danielle was Danielle.

“And how many overall?”

She turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “We worked together quite closely on the daily. What do you think?” With a shake of her head, she turned back to the screen and said, “Ah, here they are. See for yourself.”

Danielle clicked on the first file and a picture of her and Thomas walking out of the studio together just before dawn filled the screen. That, he imagined, would have been one of the two or three problematic ones – at least in combination with the ones Montmartre already had.

“I remember that night,” Thomas said involuntarily. He wasn’t sure what he meant to say, but he knew it wasn’t that, and it most certainly wasn’t supposed to come out the way it did – as if it was a fond memory.

Danielle smiled at that. “So do I. I think it was the first time we managed not to yell at each other for more than two hours.”

“If I recall correctly, you almost ruined the peace by finishing off my Scotch without asking me,” he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to reminisce about photographs he was worried could be used as blackmail material.

“You ate my snacks first. It was only fair,” Danielle countered, then let out a sigh. “God, that seems like so long ago.”

Thomas had to agree, though it really hadn’t been. It had to have been just over a year and a half, and yet it felt like an eternity. He didn’t say that, though, and just remained silent as Danielle began clicking through the images.

Most of them were harmless – the two of them at work, several obvious disagreements, or just a conversation – but then there was another one from a late night. It had clearly been shot through a window and showed Thomas and Danielle in an embrace that, to an outsider, would most certainly not look appropriate for a professor and a student.

“You should…” Thomas began, then trailed off. He remembered that night, too. It had been one of the last nights before filming – and therefore their working relationship – had ended. They’d officially made peace then, promising to respect each other as they hadn’t before they’d started working together. Needless to say, that hadn’t worked out. Thomas cleared his throat. “You should probably delete this one.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide, and shook her head. “I promise, no one will get their hands on this. Dean knows his stuff; he’s made sure it’s safe, and nobody knows where I store this. I swear—”

“Danielle,” Thomas said quietly and much more softly than he had intended.

Chewing her lip in that way she always did when she was nervous, she regarded him for a moment more, then looked back to the image on screen. “You know, I really thought you meant it then,” she said wistfully. “That we could be civil, at least.”

“We are civil right now,” he argued, which made her turn to him again, a stern look on her face.

“Right. But only because you want to check out what I have on you. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t know that. I’m not quite that naïve, Hunt.” She sighed. “Look, if you want me to delete the photos, I’ll delete them.”

Thomas wanted to believe the offer was genuine, but if his concerns were justified, she’d certainly have copies of everything lying around somewhere. And if they weren’t, it wouldn’t matter whether or not she kept the photos.

“No,” he said eventually. “But I’m going to need something in return, to guarantee you won’t release or use them against me in any way. Insurance, if you will.”

Danielle narrowed her eyes at him. “You honestly think I would – of course you do.” She huffed. “Fine. It’s a good thing I happen to know you only pretend to be scary so people will respect you,” she said as she removed the flash drive and put the laptop down on the coffee table.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked, furrowing his brows.

“Oh, I’m not giving you my nudes,” she said and got up from the sofa, smirking when an odd choking sound escaped Thomas. “Come on, I’ll give you something better.”

He followed Danielle to her wardrobe and watched as she climbed onto a chair to get a cardboard box off the top shelf. She handed it to him without another word, then jumped off the chair.

“What is it?” Thomas asked.

“Open it.”

He did as she told him and gasped when he saw the contents. “I thought the university had taken care of this.”

“They did,” she said, biting her lip. “Nothing ever got out. And it’s not everything, but it’s enough proof, I’d say.”

“I couldn’t – this would ruin you,” Thomas said and tried to give the box back but Danielle wouldn’t take it.

“Kind of the point, isn’t it?” she said with a shrug. “ You’re worried I’ll ruin you, so I’m giving you the tools to return the favour if I ever do. Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

He nodded hesitantly. “Yes, but—”

“Good. Good,” she said resignedly and inclined her head towards the door. “Then I suppose it’s time for you to go.”

 Tags: @lilyoffandoms​ @trappedinfandoms​ @flyawayboo​ @oneemofungirl​ @alleksa16​ @silversparrow02​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @alj4890​

#thomas hunt #hwu hunt #danielle

[dustedmagazine]

Dust, Volume 6, Number 11

HAAi

As it was with September, so it is with October. After what felt like the dam breaking on all those albums optimistically held back by the pandemic, October continued to rain down releases and there was no shortage of them to cover. As ever, if diversity’s your thing, we have it: From pimp-rap to free jazz, death-metal to AM gold, jungle to Azerbaijani guitar jams, we got it all for you to peruse. Contributions this go ‘round come care of Ray Garraty, Ian Mathers, Bill Meyer, Jonathan Shaw, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Justin Cober-Lake, Patrick Masterson and MIchael Rosenstein.

AllBlack — No Shame 3 (Play Runners Association/Empire)

Just when we thought that pimp-rap was going out of business, AllBlack blessed us with No Shame 3. It is a lot of what it claims: playfulness with no shame, ignorant beefs, endless balling during California nights and showing off in earnest. AllBlack alludes to the fact that even though he’s getting that rap check, he’s far from quitting the pimp game: “Made 40K in eight days, that was just off pimpin'.” But behind this happy façade is something darker that’s looming on: “As I got older, I ain't scared, I guess I'm cool with death / You speak the truth and they gon' knock you down like Malcolm X.” While admitting that rap is a cutthroat game, AllBlack is only one of the few artists of a younger generation who is ready to pay respects in his songs to the OGs — the godfathers of pimp-rap, to Willie D, Dru Down and Too $hort. The standout track here is “Pizza Rolls,” where DaBoii and Cash Kidd drop in to deliver the funniest lines. 

Ray Garraty

Bardo Pond — Adrop/Circuit VIII (Three Lobed Recordings)

Adrop / Circuit VIII by Bardo Pond

There are plenty of reasons to do small, limited runs of certain releases, in music as in other artistic fields, ranging from the brutally practical/logistical to the aesthetic, but when the material released in that fashion is good enough, it can be a relief to see it given further life (and not just digitally). This year saw the mighty Three Lobed Recordings (who we featured in an anniversary Listed here) has seen fit to reissue on vinyl two Bardo Pond LP-length pieces that were originally issued in limited run series back in 2006 and 2008. They were in good (and varied) company then, but resonate together in a pretty special way, whether it’s the tripartite Adrop wandering from gnarled, crepuscular grind to violin-powered epiphany or back down to delicate nocturnal acoustics. The longer Circuit VIII doesn’t have as distinct phases but still builds to an all-time Bardo Pond-style crescendo, featuring Isabel Sollenberger’s only vocals of the duo. Even with a band and label this consistently on point, these particular recordings are worth the wider dissemination, whether considered as archival releases or just a hell of a double album.

Ian Mathers

John Butcher & Rhodri Davies — Japanese Duets (Weight of Wax)

Japanese Duets by John Butcher & Rhodri Davies

There’s a bittersweetness about Japanese Duets that’s as pungent as the puckered, perfectly placed reports that English saxophonist John Butcher sometimes punches out of his horns. This is the third in an ongoing series of download-only releases that Butcher, idled by COVID-19, has culled from his archive, The Memory of Live Music, and the unbearable lightness of its format, only accentuates the sense of lost opportunities and experiences. One of the things that a touring musician gains in exchange for their embrace of uncertainty is the chance to go to some unlikely place and undergo something extraordinary. The four-page PDF that comes with this download reproduces photos from Butcher and Welsh harpist Rhodri Davies’ 2004 tour of Japan, which took in swanky museums and shoebox-sized jazz cafes; each image looks like a moment worth living. But if all you can do is hear the evidence, that’s not exactly settling. This improvising duo was audibly on a roll, pushing reeds and strings to sound quite unlike their usual selves, and challenging each other to move beyond logic to the rightness of jointly made and imagined moments. Thanks, guys, for sharing the memories. 

Bill Meyer

Ceremonial Bloodbath — The Tides of Blood (Sentient Ruin Laboratories)

The Tides of Blood by Ceremonial Bloodbath

Yikes — talk about truth in advertising. Canadian death-metal band Ceremonial Bloodbath delivers the goods promised by their moniker and this new LP’s title. It’s a repellent record created by dudes that play in a bunch of other death-metal bands based in British Columbia: Grave Infestation, Encoffinate (not Encoffination), Nightfucker and numerous others that tunnel even further under the broader public’s attention. Give these guys credit for their single-mindedness: None of those bands is likely to make you feel any happier about the human condition. Neither will listening to The Tides of Blood, but it’s a better record than any that those other acts have released. The songs are low-tech, dissonant and about as subtle as a bulldozer’s blade knocking through your front door. In other words, the record is largely in line with what we’ve come to expect from the death-metal recently dug up by Sentient Ruin Laboratories, and for a certain kind of listener, that’s a good thing. Check out “The Throat of Belial,” which comes on hard and fast, then downshifts into second gear and unleashes a tangled, coruscating sort-of-guitar-solo. The mechanical chug reasserts itself, then speeds up again, unleashing steam and the smell of something… organic. The song has a ruthless momentum, as does the rest of the record. Pretty good Halloween music if you want to scare all the trick-or-treaters off your lawn.

Jonathan Shaw

Cut Worms – Nobody Lives Here Anymore (Jagjaguwar)

Max Clarke evokes a wistful nostalgia for an America that existed perhaps only in the mind, the warm campfire glow of an era personified by The Everly Brothers’ harmonies, the twanging guitars of country rock and 1970s singer songwriters. On his new album as Cut Worms, Clarke literally doubles down on his musical project. Nobody Lives Here Anymore comes in at 17 songs that, while individually fine enough, meld into one another and gradually fade from the memory as the album unwinds. Clarke never quite transcends his influences and is not a strong enough lyricist to engage at this length. The effect is similar to that of The Traveling Wilburys where the whole is lesser than the sum of its parts. That said, Clarke is engaging company with a voice that splits the difference between the aforementioned siblings, Roy Orbison and Tom Petty. He has an ear for a melody and skillfully recreates an AM radio sound that trips the memory for anyone who grew up with this music either as inescapable background of their lives or soundtrack for their teen dreams and heartaches. 

Andrew Forell

Dead End America — Crush the Machine (Southern Lord)

Crush the Machine by Dead End America

This new EP by Dead End America (DEA — see what they did there?) comprises four short, piledriving hardcore songs, all directly addressed to the current occupant of the Oval Office. “Bullet for 45 (Straight From a .45)” neatly captures the EP’s essential sentiments, and also suggests the general level of restraint exercised by the whole enterprise. Hint: Restraint and nuance are not Dead End America’s strong suits. That’s not surprising, given the folks involved. The band and record were conceived by Steve “Thee Hippy Slayer” Hanford, late of Poison Idea, and of this world. It’s pretty wonderful that this is some of the last music Hanford produced — pissed off and irreverent to the very end. Additional contributors include Nick “Rex Everything” Oliveri (the Dwarves), Mike IX Williams (Eyehategod), Blaine Cook (the Fartz) and Tony Avila (World of Lies). Sort of remarkable that a record including players from all those legendarily vile, venomous bands doesn’t just spontaneously self-combust; maybe it helps that they focus their collective rage on such a deserving target. RIP Steve Hanford. The wrong people are dying.

Jonathan Shaw

Chloe Alison Escott — Stars Under Contract (Chapter Music)

Stars Under Contract by Chloe Alison Escott

Chloe Alison Escott is the frontwoman of Tasmanian post-punk duo The Native Cats, and her pre-transition solo album, The Long O, released on Bedroom Suck back in 2014, received justified plaudits upon its release. (It remains a low-key favorite of mine.) New solo piano-and-vocals album Stars Under Contract was all recorded in one day by Evelyn Ida Morris (Pikelet), which lends these performances an on-the-fly liveliness. For the most part, it’s rollicking fun, with some wryly funny lyrics that betray Escott’s sideline in standup comedy. This performative confidence comes through in early highlight “There’s Money in the Basement,” which has the jaunty barroom bounce of “Benny and the Jets.” Later, Escott reaches for the heavens on single “Back Behind the Eyes Again,” with a truly heartbreaking piano progression. Though the 16 tracks are wisely interspersed with short instrumentals such as “What Are You Reaching For,” “Evening, Sunshine” and “Playfair,” 43 minutes is a lot of piano-and-vocals songs to get through in a single sitting. On closing track “Permanent Thief,” there’s a tantalizing flash of drum machine and bass, which could be a nod there’s another Native Cats album on the way soon. 

Tim Clarke

Eiko Ishibashi — Mugen no Juunin - Immortal - Original Soundtrack (King)

If you sit up nights fretting about how Eiko Ishibashi and her partner, Jim O’Rourke, pay the bills, this music may be your melatonin for your worried mind. Immortal is the soundtrack for Blade of the Immortal, an anime adaption of a popular manga that’s been picked up by Amazon Prime. Ishibashi composed and played the music with contributions from Tetuzi Akiyama, joe Talia, Atsuko Hatano, and O’Rourke, who also mixed the music. Ishibashi’s music echoes the affect-stirring melodies of her song-oriented material and the careful sound placement of her recent electro-acoustic work for Black Truffle; when the swirl of keyboard tones looms over her piano on “Animal,” there’s no mistaking it for anyone else’s work. But this is still made for a mass market, with unabashed classical music lifts and big, booming electronic percussion that would make a multiplex’s walls throb if you gave it a chance. There’s no physical release or Bandcamp option, so if you want to check this out, Apple Music and iTunes are your options. 

Bill Meyer

Ela Minus — Acts of Rebellion (Domino)

Colombian musician Gabriela Jimeno’s debut album as Ela Minus is a collection of original tracks that merge songcraft and club sounds into an assured mix of electronica on which she plays all the instruments and sings in both Spanish and English. After spending her teenage years drumming for hardcore band Ratón Pérez, Jimeno studied jazz drums as well as the design and construction of synthesizers, and she eschews the use of computers to create her music. She brings a DIY spirit to her work combined with meticulous production style that gives acts of rebellion the experimental edge of early 1980s independent synthpop. The highlight "Megapunk” is musically close in spirit to Cabaret Voltaire, its defiant lyrics — “There’s No Way Out But to Fight” — tying freedom of expression to wider human progress. A textured and nuanced album, Ela Minus joins an ever-growing group of South American producers to tune into.

Andrew Forell

Erik Friedlander — Sentinel (Skipstone)

Sentinel by Erik Friedlander

Cellist Erik Friedlander seems to pop up in the oddest places, playing now with the Mountain Goats, then with Dave Douglas, and finding a little time for film scoring on the side. It's reasonable that for new album Sentinel, he'd connect with a couple of other artists — guitarist Ava Mendoza and percussionist Diego Espinosa — equally comfortable with finding unexpected sounds in a variety of styles. The group, given their background, sounds their best when they're blending genres. “Flash” starts off as new jazz, turns into rock for a moment, then some strange cello lead pushes it into alien territory. At the edges of the trio's work, heavy rock often feels about to break out, but the group refrains from ever indulging that impulse. “Feeling You” even provides some light, pretty pop, allowing the band to show its full breadth.

Friedlander's compositions provide the basis for the album, but Sentinel never feels like just his album. The band, assembled for what sounds like a hurried set of takes, found their partnership quickly, turning the pieces into fluid performances. “Bristle Cone” lets all three members shine and functions like a microcosm of the disc as a whole: As soon as you think it's a guitar album, you start paying attention to the percussive elements; as soon as you remember it's experimental cello work, you're back to guitar rock. The trio's engagement with the music and with each other comes through, the playful innovation guiding each piece into a multifaceted whole.

Justin Cober-Lake

HAAi — Put Your Head Above the Parakeets EP (Mute) 

Put Your Head Above The Parakeets by HAAi

Though it was Teneil Throssell’s mixes that initially made her name as HAAi (and remain strong even amid the pandemic, her latest for XLR8R another beauty), her own productions are a wonder unto themselves that demand repeat listens even as they come a trickling single or carefully cultivated EP at a time. The Karratha, Australia native, Coconut Beats hostess and Rinse and Worldwide FM veteran’s latest is the delightfully titled Keep Your Head Above the Parakeets EP, pure headphones music meant for sunrises, sunsets, walks in deep snow, rain-swept moors, you name it. Her talent is in balancing airy synth melodies with ever-shifting percussion influenced primarily by jungle, breaks and (ultimately) house; when people talk about psychedelic dance music, this is something like what I always hope to hear. Another unmissable missive.

Patrick Masterson

Hübsch, Martel, Zoubek — Ize (Insub)

Ize by HÜBSCH, MARTEL, ZOUBEK

Decades have passed since Derek Bailey wrote his book, Improvisation. At that time, it was already clear that the intentionally non-idiomatic music he pioneered and practiced was a subset of the more universal matter of improvising as a necessary aspect of playing music. It was also becoming clear that non-idiomatic improvisation’s aspirations and proscriptions amounted to a new but quite identifiable idiom, and this Swiss trio is okay with that. If you told Carl Ludwig Hübsch (tuba, objects),Pierre-Yves Martel (viola da gamba harmonica, pitch pipes) and Philip Zoubek (piano, synthesizer) that the music on Ize sounds a bit like the British ensemble AMM’s, they’d likely nod and thank you for noticing. They’re not trying to make a new kind of music, they’re trying to be good at a kind of music that they love, and on those terms, they succeed. Aside from the occasional Feldman-esque piano phrase, they mostly trade in layers of tone and texture, operating in complementary parallel to one another, taking the listener through states of meditative stillness and slow-motion vertigo. 

Bill Meyer

J Majik — Your Sound - Photek & Digital V​.​I​.​P 12” (Infrared) 

J Majik - Your Sound - Photek & Digital V.I.P by J Majik / Photek / Digital

Released on the same day as the “This Sound” single that allegedly was refashioned from “unfinished jungle project from the vaults,” “Your Sound” was further proof that UK drum n’ bass vet Jamie Spratling bka J Majik still has plenty of material from the golden era to get out into the world. The original is a certified mid-’90s Metalheadz classic, but Photek and Digital’s reworking on the a-side “originally only destined for the dubplate boxes of the ultra-elite” has been floating in the ether for years as an alternative; its light Amen sequences and booming bass will have you yearning for every closed club you can’t attend. J Majik’s remix of his own tune on the flip was originally the b-side to a 1997 Goldie VIP edit, so having a more readily available remaster here does it a world of good. One for the headz, obviously.

Patrick Masterson

KTL — VII (Editions Mego)

VII by KTL

Most of KTL’s recordings have been seeded by theater and film soundtrack commissions. But when Stephen O’Malley (Sunn 0))), Khanate) and Peter Rehberg (Pita, Fenn O’Berg) found themselves in Berlin this past March with more time on their hands than they expected, they booked themselves into Mouse On Mars’ MOM Paraverse Studio sans portfolio and set to work. The first track, “The Director,” seems to acknowledge the situation by introducing the Shephard-Risset glissando, a repeated scale that sounds like it is endlessly ascending or descending. The titular figure never arrives, but while you’re waiting, fat looped electronics impart the experience of going somewhere while leaving you exactly where you’re at. The director isn’t the only value missing from this equation; O’Malley’s default sonic signature, a massive metallic wall of sound, has been softened to a close-shaving buzz that rattles and circles around within Rehberg’s synthetic/sonic biodome. That’s right, while you’ve been baking bread and putting on that COVID-15, KTL has actually lost weight! 

Bill Meyer

Lisa Cay Miller/Vicky Mettler/Raphaël Foisy-Couture — Grind Halts (Notice Recordings)

Grind Halts by Lisa Cay Miller/Vicky Mettler/Raphaël Foisy-Couture

Montreal-based guitarist Vicky Mettler, bassist Raphaël Foisy-Couture and Vancouver-based pianist Lisa Cay Miller are all new names to me. For their trio collaboration on Notice Recordings, the three work their way through a set of eight free improvisations that range from one and a half minutes to eight minutes long. The combination of piano, guitar and upright bass is striking from the start: Miller slips seamlessly between the keyboard and inside-string preparations, mostly eschewing readily identifiable sonorities of her instrument. Mettler’s resonant, brittle electric guitar is the perfect foil to Miller’s piano and one often has a hard time teasing apart where inside piano strings end and guitar strings begin. Add to that Foisy-Couture’s dark low-end bass, which he attacks with groaning scrapes, shuddering arco and assorted string treatments. The three engage in active improvisations, plying their respective instruments into a collective whole while steering clear of garrulous interaction. The fourth piece, “Lower” is as close to trio exchanges as things get, opening up the ensemble sound to allow shredded guitar textures, resounding piano chords and scabrous bass abrasions to accrue into pulsating timbral layers. A piece like “As It Spins” is more about process, adding in the rumble and clatter of assorted percussive detritus, used on their own and to activate the strings of the instruments, which jangle with resultant shimmering overtones. The pieces often segue one into the other, creating an enveloping sound-space throughout. Based on this one, I look forward to hearing more from each of the participants.

Michael Rosenstein

Mint Field — Sentimiento Mundial (Felte)

Sentimiento Mundial by Mint Field

Mexico City-based duo Estrella del Sol Sánchez (voice, guitar) and Sebastian Neyra (bass) enlist drummer Callum Brown to expand the range of their dreamily psychedelic shoegaze on Mint Field’s second album Sentimiento Mundial. Sánchez has the breathy cadence of Rachel Goswell and moves easily between an almost folky introspection in her guitar playing to squalling walls of sound underpinned by Brown’s often motorik drums on tracks like “Contingenicia” and “No te caigas.” The bulk of the album is more reflective, Sánchez’ Spanish vocals close to your ear as she concentrates on atmosphere and dynamics. The result is a dreamscape that lulls, then hits with febrile bursts of restless dread, an impressive collection that fans of 4AD in particular should recognize and embrace. 

Andrew Forell

Takuji Naka/Tim Olive — Minouragatake (Notice Recordings)

Minouragatake by Takuji Naka/Tim Olive

Minouragatake (a mountain outside of Kyoto, Japan) is the fourth recording by Takuji Naka and Tim Olive, a duo that has played together for close to a decade now, melding together music of slowly evolving rich timbral abstraction. Each are consummate collaborators and for this session, they make their way across the seven untitled tracks with steadfast focus to the nuanced details of their respective sound sources. Naka utilizes “long loops of sagging/distressed cassette tape winding into and out of similarly distressed portable tape players, with real-time analog processing.” Olive uses his regular array of magnetic pickups and low-tech analog electronics, drawing out volatile hums and changeable striations that coalesce with his partner’s slowly devolving layers of sound. These pieces are imbued with unflappable deliberation, each sound integrated into the cohesive, gradually unfolding improvisations. Each of the pieces sound as if one is tuning in mid-stream and end with a sense that they could continue on indefinitely. Rather than adhering to any formal developmental arcs, the two patiently sit within unfurling sonic worlds as layers ebb and flow. Naka’s degraded tapes lend an aura of catching wafts from some distant celestial emission which Olive subtly shades and colors with hisses, whispered mutable fuzzed gradations and aural grit. Snatches of scumbled lyricism morph into static-laden swirls; washes of flaked and tattered textures disperse into shuddering thrums. Naka doesn’t record much so it’s good to hear another project from him. Olive has been on a particular roll as of late and this one is a laudable addition to his discography.

Michael Rosenstein

Okuden Quartet — Every Dog Has Its Day But It Doesn’t Matter Because Fat Cat Is Getting Fatter (ESP-Disk)

Every Dog Has Its Day But It Doesn't Matter Because Fat Cat Is Getting Fatter by Okuden Quartet: Mat Walerian/Matthew Shipp/William Parker/ Hamid Drake

Put aside the bleakness of this double album’s title because this music embodies the idea that things can get better. Not that there was anything wrong with Polish woodwinds player Mat Walerian’s previous recordings, which have all involved some combination of the musicians on this one. But Walerian has never sounded so strong on his various instruments (alto saxophone, bass and soprano clarinets, flute); so clear on how to get the most out of Matthew Shipp, William Parker and Hamid Drake; or so engaged with jazz, and not just the free jazz that he’s made with these gentlemen to date. By turns subdued, impassioned and bathed in all the shades of the blues, Walerian no longer sounds like a guy who has great taste in sidemen who happen to have played with some of the greats of our time, but a guy who sounds like he belongs in their company. Each lengthy track (they range from 11 to 18 minutes long) imparts a narrative feel without dispelling the mystery that makes you want to hear them again. Here’s hoping that when things start moving again, this band finds a way to move around the world and move us in person. 

Bill Meyer

Om — It’s About Time (Intakt) 

It’s About Time by OM - Urs Leimgruber, Christy Doran, Bobby Burri, Fredy Studer

To a fan, It’s About Time might sum up the feeling upon learning that the Swiss quartet Om finally recorded a new studio album 40 years after its predecessor, Cerberus (ECM). It also captures the existential question facing a quartet of improvisers, some of whose paths have often crossed during that time, but some of whom have taken very different roads. On the one hand, drummer Fredy Studer and guitarist Christy Doran play in a Jim Hendrix cover band with Jamaladeen Tacuma; on the other, soprano saxophonist Urs Leimgruber works mainly in freely improvised settings with the likes of Alvin Curran and Joelle Leandre these days. Burri seems to be the guy who has maintained connections with everybody. How to make sense of such a history without denying anyone’s musical identity? During their first go-around, between 1972 and 1982, Om was played polyrhythmic electric jazz. During the mostly low-profile gigs they’ve played since reconvening in 2008, they’ve had time to forge an updated vocabulary that is less groove-oriented but takes full advantage of the timbral resources on hand. While it’s evident that time has passed, it’s by no means a waste of time. 

Bill Meyer

Rüstəm Quliyev — Azerbaijani Gitara (Bongo Joe)

Azerbaijani music, by and large, hasn't broken through to the American mainstream. That might not change, but the new anthology release of Rüstəm Quliyev's work, titled Azerbaijani Gitara, at least makes a case against our insularity. Quliyev's work, even for an insider, would be hard to pin down given that the overriding goal seems to be the synthesis of as many styles of music as possible. Western ears will be most comfortable with the psych-rock influences here. Quliyev also reworks Bollywood, folk, Middle Eastern dance and more on his electric guitar. Taken from recordings from 1999-2004, this nine-song collection sounds more coherent than that idea might suggest, but no less frantic. Quliyev plays with a persistent energy, his kinetic approach matched my his chops, often with a tone reminiscent of Carlos Santana (if we reach a little). On songs like “İran Təranələri,” he allows the piece to develop patiently, but these cuts rely on movement and virtuosity. Quliyev had a challenging life cut short by lung cancer, but his music finds itself unleashed through apparent joy.

Justin Cober-Lake

ShooterGang Kony — Still Kony 2 (Empire) 

A fortnight shy of his 22nd birthday (this coming Wednesday, mark your calendars and send best wishes), Sacramento rapper ShooterGang Kony has dropped his second full-length project of the year in Still Kony 2, a skit-free set of songs with a Biggie homage as the cover that explores further his emotional depths while still retaining the bouncy Bay Area nature of his livelier side. There’s stuff like “Red Ice” and “Fasholy Good,” of course, but there’s also the stretch of sobering songs later in the tracklist, including “Overdose,” “Flaggin” and the particularly affecting “Do or Die.” No matter the type of beat, though, Kony feels completely at ease with his cadence and wholly in control of his verses despite occasionally verging on a Detroit-like dismissal of the beat. Even if you can’t see the geekin’, you can certainly feel it.

Patrick Masterson

Suuns — Fiction EP (Joyful Noise)

FICTION EP by SUUNS

For better or worse, Suuns’ new Fiction EP is pretty much the sound of 2020 encapsulated, not in the sense of distilling current musical trends, but rather in succinctly conveying the disorientating feeling of living through a year that has been such a traumatic mess. Across these six tracks, the Montreal-based band creates a fuzzy, feedback-streaked, claustrophobic racket that just about coalesces into song forms around breakneck rhythm tracks. “Fiction” and “Pray” will meet the expectations of anyone expecting Suuns to continue sounding like fellow noise-rockers Clinic, but elsewhere there’s surprising variation to the band’s sound palette. Opener “Look” emerges out of the darkness like a warped apparition, concluding with a chant of what sounds like “Sheep, sheep, sheep.” They enlist the help of Jerusalem In My Heart for droning instrumental “Breathe,” and Amber Webber lends ghostly vocals to “Death.” At the EP’s end, the Mothers of Invention’s wailing blues-rock classic “Trouble Every Day” is barely recognizable, foregrounding Zappa’s lyrics and chewing them up into a garbled rush of splenetic invective. Though short, there’s something satisfyingly ghastly and cathartic about this EP that really cuts through.

Tim Clarke

Women — Rarities 2007-2010 (Flemish Eye/Jagjaguwar) 

Rarities 2007 - 2010 by Women

Some outlets rode much harder for Women than others when the band was still a dysfunctioning unit (RIP Cokemachineglow, namely), but there’s little doubt left a decade on that what the Calgary quartet had going was a volatile yet beautiful indie-rock ideal that hasn’t been duplicated in Viet Cong/Preoccupations or Cindy Lee since. These rarities, affixed to a deluxe decennial reissue of Public Strain due out in November, could all have made the final tracklistings of either of their full-lengths. The music veers between sunny ‘60s singalongs and dark guitar dissonance; I find myself thinking of The Walkmen’s first LP on “Bullfight” (a free release from 2011 in the aftermath of the band’s collapse the year before) and of The Chameleons on “Group Transport,” which is considerably more Janus-faced with its juxtaposed harmonies, for example. It took me much longer than it should have to come around on Women, but in case you’re still on the fence or also just never got around to them in the first place, perhaps this small coda will sway you in their favor once and for all.

Patrick Masterson

Yo La Tengo — Sleepless Night EP (Matador)

In July, Yo La Tengo released the abstract, droning instrumental EP We Have Amnesia Sometimes, harking back to the sound of their excellent soundtrack album The Sounds of the Sounds of Science (2002). This new Sleepless Night EP brings together five covers and one original, first released in conjunction with an L.A. exhibition by Japanese artist Yoshitomo Nara, who helped the band pick the songs. Sleepless Night opens with “Blues Stay Away” by The Delmore Brothers and “Wasn’t Born to Follow” by The Byrds, both fairly straight renditions of the blues and country-rock originals. The real keeper in this collection comes next in the form of Ronnie Lane’s “Roll On Babe,” beautifully sung by Georgia, which hypnotizes with its languid sway. Their cover of Dylan’s “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry” also has Georgia take the lead over beatless organ, bass and guitar. “Bleeding” is the sole original, a shimmering atmospheric piece with ghostly vocals from Ira, which dissolves in a pool of pitchshifted reverb. Finally, “Smile a Little Smile for Me” strips out the rhythm section from the Flying Machine original and slows the tempo, Ira’s measured vocal performance lending the song an affectingly forlorn slant. Though the material here offers few surprises, it’s a reassuring release from a justifiably loved band at a time when we could all use a little more reassurance.

Tim Clarke

#dusted magazine #dust #allblack #yo la tengo #women #suuns #shootergang kony #rustam quliyev #om #okuden quartet #takuji naka #tim olive #mint field #lisa cay miller #vicky mettler #raphael foisy-couture #ktl #j majik #hubsch #martel #zoubek #haai #erik friedlander #ela minus #eiko ishibashi #chloe alison escott #dead end america #cut worms #ceremonial bloodbath #john butcher

[chaoticneutralwriter]

Distance and the Heart

You were convinced that you’ll be fine on your own while he’s gone. After all, all you wanted to do was sit at home and watch BTS videos all day. Instead, you go on a ‘date’, break someone’s nose and dig an even deeper ‘Oh-shit-I-think-I-might-like-my-guardian-demon’ hole for yourself.

You should never be let outside again.

guardian demon!Jimin x reader

genre: slice of life, fluff, slow-burn, supernatural, comedy

word count: 8.1k (I DID NOT MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN)

Related works: Unorthodox | Genuine | 3AM Demon | The Grinch Who Stole New Year

A/N: well this got long....LOL UMM Hope you enjoy it! There’s more plot! And be aware of douchey guys! :DD

“You’re going where now?”

 “Think of it as a ‘performance evaluation’ meeting; you know, the kind you humans have with your boss to discuss how well or not you’ve been doing your job.” He replies back, adjusting the cuffs on his shirt as he stands before your full-length mirror. You try your hardest not to stare at him from your seat by your desk, in the middle of working on some assignments just to get ahead of yourself for the week, but you find your concentration wavering when your mind clearly found something way more interesting to study.

 Jimin is currently dressed in an all black ensemble; a black button down that’s tucked into his black slacks, allowing you the chance to see just how perfectly they hug his thighs and ahem ass. His silvery hair is immaculately coiffed as per usual and as he turns to shrug on the black blazer jacket, embroidered with intricate silver linings, you find yourself very distressed in your seat because your mind is telling you no but your body…. your body is saying hell yes.

 You whip your gaze away, embarrassed by your own thoughts and you hope that your guardian demon hasn’t noticed. Damn him for looking so good.

 “I’ll try to keep the visit short, but don’t be surprised if you don’t see me for a few days.” Jimin makes the final adjustments to his look, brushing away strands of hair that fall out of place over his forehead before turning to fix you with a stare.

 “Don’t worry, take all the time you need.” You encourage, hoping to feign indifference of his departure. It seems to not slip past him as Jimin’s plush lips curl into that damning smirk and to add more insult to injury, he languidly saunters over to you, instantly putting you on high alert.

 “Oh cherub, don’t you know I worry that you’ll probably die from missing me so much?” He singsongs and you blanch in response. “But just so you know, I’m only one call away; hell is completely toll free.”

 He removes his hand previously stuffed into his pocket to pat you on the head mockingly to which you swat at it before it even makes contact with a single strand of hair. You kiss your teeth, annoyed but he just throws his head back and laughs at you. You curse again because as much as you’re irritated, the tinkling sound never fails to make your heart race. 

 “Just go already; aren’t you going to be late or something?” You feebly mumble, turning back to stubbornly burn a hole into your laptop screen. You hear a muffled snort; some shuffling and you finally think you’ve got your deserved peace from this nuisance but then—

 “No kiss goodbye?” 

 On reflex, you hurl your seat cushion at his general direction, only for it to crash against your full length mirror noisily (you wince as little knick knacks nearby topples over from the force), the last remnants of his cackling fading into the air and the only thing you can do is huff out loudly, face blazing. But what you find the most frustrating thing however is that you’re not sure if it’s from anger or from the thought of imagining kissing said demon.

 -

 After about three hours, you shut off your laptop and place your pencil down to heave a big stretch with your arms high above your head. You wince at the kinks and pops of your joints but you’re satisfied with your finished work. Now you can relax and laze around all you want, maybe even catch up on a couple of RUN BTS episodes that you’ve sadly missed due to being so busy.

 “Hey! Y/N, wanna check out this cafe with me?”

 Or not…

 Jaehee’s voice calls out to your from her place by your door, phone in hand to showcase an instagram profile of said cafe she mentioned. You’re a bit hesitant to be honest, feeling like your energy is all spent from working on school stuff that all you wanted to do now was to essentially become a human rock. Jaehee picks up on it, having known you for a while but she must be desperate to get out because she persists.

 “C’mon Y/N! It’s still early and a Saturday plus I know you’re not working tomorrow either!”

 You’re caught in between the pros and cons of staying home or going out because although you’re definitely not opposed to going to a cute little cafe to maybe reward yourself with an iced coffee or latte, you definitely dread the thought of the process to getting yourself ready to look presentable to the world when you’re completely comfortable in your PJs. Your indecision shows and like a bloodhound, Jaehee hones in on it and with a last ditch effort of convincing you, she throws in some puppy-dog eyes and a pout.

 “Please? I really wanna check this place out with you.” 

 The loud sigh you let out is enough to have a smile break out widely on her face, needing no words to know that you’ve given in. With reluctance, you drag yourself up out of your chair to get changed.

 Guess BTS will have to wait a little longer.

 -

 Admittedly the cafe is pretty cute and this iced latte is great so you find the discomfort of being dragged out of the house disappearing. You’re having a good time, laughing at a work story Jaehee is telling you as you’re munching on some fancy looking pastries that should’ve been too good-looking to eat (but that sentiment quickly went away because Jaehee took too long taking photos of it from every angle).

 There’s a lull in conversation as Jaehee takes the time to type something out on her phone, you paying no mind as your attention is more on getting the last of this cheesecake in front you.

 “So Jason; you remember him right? He’s gonna stop by with a friend of his who just moved here to the city. Do you mind if they join us?”

 You’re caught like a deer in headlights, mouthful of delicious desserts. Half of you find that there’s no reason they shouldn’t be allowed but the other half is cringing at the thought of having to interact with people whom you know very little about (Jason has only been a recent thing in Jaehee’s life and from what little times you’ve hung out with him and Jaehee together, you still can’t quite figure out if he’s worth investing in before he’s replaced).

 Rationality wins out eventually, finding yourself no real good reason to say no so you bite the bullet. “Sure, I guess?"

 When you’re halfway through your latte, Jaehee’s phone vibrates and she picks up.

 “Hello?…. Oh you’re here? We’re just inside, come in!” She hangs up promptly with a smile and before you can ask or wonder more on it, the door opens and in walks two guys. You easily recognize one of them as being the one that Jaehee took to the Christmas party as a date so by process of elimination, the other is the friend from out of town.

 He’s quite plain looking; a mop of dark hair and with no striking feature catching your eye other than the fact that he seems quite tall and lanky (but the same can be said about everyone you basically meet). The duo approaches just as Jaehee waves them over, her date going in for a hug to which your friend reciprocates while his friend simply smiles politely on the side.

 “Jason! Glad you could make it, and you must be Mike right?”

 Mike smiles widely and offers a handshake for her, to which Jaehee takes naturally.

 “Yeah, nice to finally meet you.”

 “And this is my friend and roommate Y/N.”

 You smile, taking Mike’s outstretched hand to give a shake as well as giving a simple greeting. Conversations are taken over by Jaehee for a bit before you all collectively decide to leave and walk along the street where the cafe is located. The weather is nice, the air slightly crisp but the real cold was more of something to worry about once the sun goes down.

 You file out of the shop and begin your walk, Jaehee and Jason naturally pairing up to chat, which left you with Mike trailing after them from behind. Oh joy….

 Your heart is beating a little too hard in your chest for your liking, your small bouts of social anxiety creeping in at now being put in a position to make small talk with a total stranger, a skill you haven’t quite got the hang of in all of your twenty-some odd years of being alive.

 “This seems like a really nice place to hang out with your friends huh?” Luckily, Mike’s the first to strike up conversations with you. Pressure relieved, you plaster on a smile.

 “Yeah, most of the cafes and popular eating spots are here….” 

 And that’s pretty much all you get out. You’re starting to get sweaty.

 “What would you recommend here?” Mike persists, seemingly not bothered by what you feel is a conversation struggling to continue every other sentence. He still has a smile on his face which makes his otherwise ordinary features appear more attractive, and coupled by his earnestness to keep talking to you, the friendliness and outgoing characteristics of him becomes more apparent. You find yourself impressed by his efforts of keeping the awkwardness at bay.

 “Uh, I’ve only tried a few places. So far pretty good in my opinion.” 

 “So the cafe today was good then? Because what you were eating back there looks really delicious.”

 “Yeah, I guess. The cheesecake is all right.” 

 It pretty much continues with Mike obviously being the more animated out of the two you as he pretty much chats enough for you both. You find out he’s moved here to attend the local university, the same one Jason goes to and that’s how they became friends and that he’s only been here for a little over two weeks. You nod along, offering comments here and there and the last remains of heart palpitations are thankfully gone.

 “What’s Tsujiro?” Mike suddenly asks as his gaze wanders to a dessert place you’re coming up on. You pause, can’t help but think how the shop name as well known as Tsujiro could slip under someone’s radar at this point. However, you push it aside because who are you judge; maybe he came from a smaller city or town?

 “Oh, uh, it’s a Japanese dessert place; they mainly sell soft serve green tea ice cream in like, tall cups or small ones with other toppings and stuff.” 

 “Oh wow, I might actually want to try one out. Is it good?” He turns to you, bright eyed and you give a shrug and a wry smile.

 “It’s all right.” You say, voice cracking near the end from being unsure. Sure you liked it, but honestly found it too pricey for your taste. 

 You don’t tell Mike that though (who are you to stop him from wanting to try it out; who knows, maybe he’ll like it).

 It seems good enough for him because he makes a beeline into the shop and you call out to Jaehee and Jason to wait up. No sooner, Mike comes out and everyone comments on his chosen concoction from the store; a tall cup of what appears to be green tea smoothie, topped with more green soft serve, a cube of cheesecake (?), sprinkled with mochi and other sweet looking treats. It’s pretty to look at, but the price he tells you were anything but (you’re not surprised).

 Your group walks around a bit more until spontaneously deciding the grab dinner once Mike finishes up with his dessert (“not as good as it looked,” he chuckles disappointingly).

 The restaurant you decide to eat at however was thankfully. You all make good talk with one another, Jaehee, being the ever better socialite than you, does a good job at covering for you both (you have a sneaking suspicion it’s the alcohol you’ve all ordered with your meal). You feel like you’ve filled your quota of talks and keeping up with pleasantries in the face of strangers, though that doesn’t stop Mike from pulling you into conversations every now and then. You throw in a comment or two to suffice.

 Dinner wraps up nicely, the bill is split and you all get ready to leave: Jason with Mike and Jaehee with you. You think you’re in the clear, the slight alcohol enhancing the excited buzz you’re feeling about heading home until Mike calls out to you suddenly at what should’ve been the final exchanges of goodbyes.

 “Hey Y/N, is it okay if I have your number? Would be cool to see you again.”

 You blink, unsure of how to respond. You seldom give your number out to people you’ve only just met, unless the circumstances are called for (i.e. business related, appointment based, or if it’s long overdue if you keep seeing the person). Snobby or uptight aren’t words you would describe yourself with this, but perhaps a combination of pessimistic and realistic is more appropriate; you’ve long made peace with the fact that at this stage of your life, the chances of acquiring any more life-long friends is zero to none. Nine times out of ten, this will be just another number you’ll have to clear out.

 At the nudge of Jaehee’s shoulder, you’re knocked out of your stupor and the realization that you had probably been vacantly staring at him settles as an embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 

 “O-Oh, uh, you have iMessenger? That’s better to get in touch with me.” You awkwardly reach for your phone to pull up the app and Mike laughs good-naturedly, nodding. You exchange contacts and finally, with a breath of relief, you part ways. Not a moment sooner when you had turned the block to the direction of your house did Jaehee pounce on you.

 “So? What do you think of him?” She asks, trying to be on the sly with things but it’s obvious how eager she is to hear.

 “Think of who?”

 “Mike! Jason’s friend.” 

 “What about him?” You’re not seeing the significance of the question nor the person in question.

 “You know… do you think he's nice? Cool? …. Cute?”

 You nearly give yourself whiplash at Jaehee’s choice of questions, turning your gaze onto her expectant ones. You feel your face contort itself into a sort of half grimace and look of incredulity.

 “I only just met him? Like he’s nice, I guess…. Really friendly to people he just met— I don’t know.”

 Jaehee seems to deflate at your lukewarm response. “Really? That’s it?”

 “…. Yeah? Why?”

 She sighs, hand tugging to link arms with you. “Never mind.” 

 The rest of the walk home you’re confused but you’re too tired to really think too much on it at this point. So much so that once you’re in the house, your night routine all blurs together and you immediately fall asleep as soon as your head touches pillow.

 The next morning, you wake up with a groan, stretching your limbs but not quite ready to get up out of your cocoon of blankets just yet. You settle by grabbing your phone to mindlessly scroll through your social media, as one does when they’re intent to make Sunday their designated lazy day. You’re surprised to see a notification for your iMessenger, a face you’re not used to seeing. It takes a moment for it to register as the guy you met yesterday, Mike.

 “Did you two get home alright?” was his written message in the chat box, sent at a time you knew you’d been passed out in the sleep. You do him the courtesy to text back with an apology on the delayed response and that yes, you and Jaehee did make it home safely.

 You go on to open up your other apps, scrolling through your feed, which helps you wake yourself up, more often than not finding BTS content related things. You stop on a video clip compilation of Jimin laughing till he disappears out of frame and it makes you grin. How can someone so cute exist? You hit the ‘like’ button and as you proceed to scroll more, your thoughts shift to the next thing related to said idol.

 Speaking of, you wonder if your demon guardian Jimin-lookalike is back.

 You swivel your head as best you could but find not so much as whiff of the usual lavender and vanilla scent that never fails to follow him.

 Huh….

 You get out of bed eventually, making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself breakfast and find that the house is…uncharacteristically quiet.

 No, it’s always been this quiet. You correct yourself, because it’s true…or was true. Before….

 You huff a sigh, exasperated. Get your thoughts straight girl.

 You continue with your day, making up for the lazing around you missed. Every once in a while, your phone pings with a notification; another sent message by Mike. The conversation was nothing of interest, just more casual talks of what you’re doing and going off on that before the topic is changed, most often by Mike once you’ve ran out of things to say.

 It goes on like that for a couple more days. He messages first always, and you almost dutifully answer back out of courtesy. He truly does seem like a nice guy, polite and easy-going but as much as your conversations with him were good (at a least you think? There were times you’ve haven’t answered for days because you were being swamped with work and school but that still doesn’t deter him), they were still very surface level; not having gone past being ‘good acquaintances’…or more like ‘one-sided good acquaintances’ because you think you know more about him than he does you.

 However, as the days drag on, you find your interest in Mike fading altogether as more other pressing thoughts start to occupy your mind, creeping in and growing like mold.

 Where is your guardian demon?

 Jimin did say the meeting might take more than a few days but it’s almost been more than a week since he’d left. Do meetings in hell usually take this long? More so, why hasn’t the bastard texted you at all? He’s supposed to be your guardian and right now he’s technically neglecting his end of the contract.

 Wait, what are you saying?  

 You flail your limbs in frustration, lying in bed in the middle of the night. You had told yourself that you were going to be a decent human being and go to sleep at normal people time because you’re absolutely beat from the week’s work but instead of drifting off like you thought you would, you ended up reflecting back on the events and had come full circle to the one being who should’ve been your least concerned. 

 Even when he’s not physically there, he still manages to wiggle his way into your thoughts. Unbelievable.

 You drift off eventually, stubbornly muting any train of thoughts that somehow always seem to lead back to him. You wake up a little on the groggy side, as if you haven’t slept at all but it’s the weekend again so you’re not bothered in rushing to get up. Grabbing your phone, you tap it awake to find a message notification.

 Your heart races for a quick second before impassively dropping once your foggy mind has registered the name; it’s Mike. No devil…or demon to be spoken of here. The message preview looks like a good morning text and the beginnings of asking what are you up to and you don’t quite make it that far before brushing it away from the screen; you’ll answer later.

 You mosey along with your day contently, taking time to eating breakfast then getting lost on Youtube (to which you, without fail, ended up watching a bunch of BTS related videos from Vlives to Run episodes to Bangtan Bombs) and even being productive like getting ahead of your studies (though you literally spent a little under fifteen minutes on it but hey, progress is progress).

 It’s around late evening when Jaehee comes knocking on your door, phone in hand once again and a yet another proposition.

 “Hey, wanna head out for dinner with me, Jason and Mike tonight?”

 You blink back at her from your nest of pillows and blankets much like an owl, not giving her an immediate response. She stares right back at you and it would seem like you two were having a silent conversation but you have a sneaking feeling that Jaehee can already see your brain working through all the pros and cons of saying yes or no like you’re Doctor Strange seeing all the possible alternative universes in which to defeat Thanos.

 “Where to exactly?” You ask after a while with slight trepidation.

 “That new Korean BBQ place that just opened up.”

 Damn.

 She’s got you beat. You’ve been eyeing that place for a while now but just never had the time or occasion to go. Not only was it the first branch to finally open here from being exclusively abroad for so long, but the restaurant is only a few blocks down the street from where you and Jaehee live; a true miracle because you had always figured such a popular restaurant would be located more towards downtown (which meant having to commute via subway, ugh).

 And God must’ve cursed you with a gluttonous vice because your stomach rumbles like it had a say in whether you’re going or not, and by the looks of it, you most certainly are.

 So with a defeated sigh, and knowing that Jaehee most likely heard your traitorous stomach even from your doorway, you agree. 

 The two of you meet up with your companions at the restaurant since they were coming from the downtown area so this way it would be more convenient. Jaehee greets the boys enthusiastically, whereas you wave casually, more subdued.

 “Hey, Y/N! It’s been a while since we saw each other.” Mike smiles as he comes up to you. 

 “Uh, yeah it has huh?” You shift a little in place, but you hurriedly follow after Jaehee and Jason who’s already stepped into the restaurant to grab a table. Jason of course, slides in on the bench side with Jaehee…. Which leaves you and Mike on the chairs across. You inwardly sigh out in exasperation. You just want to get through dinner eating the most Korean BBQ you can and with as little small talk as possible.

 To your relief, it wasn’t difficult to do once the food starts rolling out and the grill starts sizzling. For the most part, it works because food is always a great distraction but then the drinks starts pouring and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t totally in love with grapefruit flavoured soju now. Luckily, most conversations stay group oriented and Jaehee takes the lead in most of them, so you bounce off of her topics to make it easier for you to not get stuck conversing with just Mike. 

 As the eating comes to an end and drinks only remain however, you’re left with very little to defend yourself with.

 “So did you see the new Venom movie?” Mike asks you with what you could assume was a playful nudge but all it does is nearly make you slosh your drink. You try not to let the annoyance show on your face as you strain to smile back. 

 “Ah, yeah I did. I watched it online.” You say off-handedly before downing your drink, the sweetness of grapefruit hiding the usual rubbing alcohol burn of the soju, making it far too easy to swallow. You muse absently about how dangerous that can be. 

 “What? Why didn’t you see it in theatres? It was a great movie!”

 It wasn’t that great. But it wasn’t that bad either. You think to yourself but you’re not in the mood to having an extensive discussion with him, head beginning to slightly throb, so you settle to just shrug.

 “I didn’t feel like it. Also, didn’t really have the time.” 

 “Hey, then when we get the chance, maybe we should go see one together.” Mike suggests. You’re about to give a reply that would underlie a soft let down or at least to not get his hopes up when Jaehee exclaims rather excitedly at the suggestion.

 “Oh my god yeah! We should! It’s been so long since I’ve actually went to see a movie in theatres.” 

 “I swear we went to one not too long ago…” Jason comments, trailing off as his thinks back on it.

 “That was in summer, and now it’s winter.” Jaehee turns back to you and Mike in front of her, her excitement not seeming to die down anytime soon as she blurts out a little too loudly. “It can be like a double date!”

 You nearly choke on the soju you’ve been sipping, covering it up hastily with the loud clearing of your throat and decidedly placing the glass down to reach for the cup of cold water instead. 

 “Woah you okay?” You feel Mike’s hand on your shoulder; the sudden contact makes your arm flinch in surprise. You hurriedly gulp down the water, letting the coolness wash over the rough patch in your throat before mustering up a stiff smile in assurance.

 “Y-Yeah, no, I’m fine! Just…. went down the wrong pipe is all.” Your voice comes out hoarse and you cough again to clear it, chuckling nervously. Jaehee laughs as if you just hadn’t nearly choked to death, though she refills your cup of water generously.

 “You need to slow down with that soju. Is it really that good?”

 “Yeah!” You jump on the chance to direct your attention elsewhere, “Really good! I like, almost finished this bottle by myself!” You forcefully laugh; feel your cheeks start to heat up, whether from said alcohol or embarrassment. You start to wonder belatedly if you should check with a mirror to see if you’ve gone as red as you usually do when drinking (boy would that be even more embarrassing!).

 “You know what, I need to go to the washroom. Be right back!” You hurriedly excuse yourself, the chair wobbling as you get up with a stumble.

 “Oh! I’ll come with you!” Jaehee volunteers as she jumps up from her seat, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the ladies’ room. After a quick trip of emptying your bladder, you finally get a look at your reflection as you wash your hands. You’re relieved to find that you’re not completely red, just the slightest shade of pink peeking through your foundation. You note with satisfaction of how high coverage it is.

 “Hey, Y/N!” Jaehee calls cheerfully to you as she steps out of her cubicle with a flush. She comes to stand next to you, bumping your hips before lathering her hands with soap and water.

 “What?” You ask more concentrated in your attempts at patting away some of the oiliness on your nose and chin.

 “I think Mike is really into you.” Jaehee teases, a sneaky smile sent your way but you’re not as amused by the idea as she is. You wrinkle your nose, face scrunching in the mirror in front of you.

 “Um, what makes you so sure about that?”

 “Don’t tell him I told you, but Mike messaged me before we headed out tonight. He said you and him have been hitting it off pretty well.” 

 You furrow your eyebrows because that’s not how you see it and you express that much. Jaehee gives you a look that says she thinks otherwise.

 “The guy’s just super nervous around you. He really wants to get to know you better. Hell, if I wasn’t seeing Jason, I would go for him.” You can see her efforts in trying to get you to sympathize and though you don’t have much to argue against Mike because he really does seem like a nice guy and hasn’t done anything wrong, you don’t feel…. a connection. At all.

 “I mean he’s nice…. I guess? And like we talk, but I just don’t really feel anything? I don’t know….” You reply half mumbling distractedly, not really knowing how to explain but also finding that you don’t really care.

 “Is it because of that other guy who saved you?”

 You swear the speed in which you turn to Jaehee nearly knocks you off your own feet, heart thudding loudly against your ribcage that you have no time to discern if it’s from the alcohol or the thought of your Jimin impostor guardian demon.

 “W-What? Um, no! He’s—We’re not— I mean there’s nothing between us!” You get out, voice raising a little too high that it startles some other ladies who walked in. You shrink back as Jaehee lets out cackles and gives a hearty smack to your back, jerking you forward from the force. She startles you again by abruptly stopping midway to dramatically gasp, eyes wide and gleaming in a way that makes you nervous because inebriated Jaehee is often times too brash and too impulsive for her own good.

 “What if you just…. talk to him?” 

 “Who? Ji—?“ You almost make the mistake of saying his name aloud but you had lit Jaehee to cover for you, even if it was unintentional. 

 “Mike! You need to talk to him…alone.” She cuts you off, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

 “I— I don’t get it…?” 

 “You need to get a feel for him in person! And this is only the second time you’ve met and it’s always with me and Jason! No wonder you’re not connecting properly!” 

 “H-Huh?” You’re slow on the follow up because you thought you were still talking about Jimin?

 “I’ll tell you what!” Jaehee laser focuses on you and instinctively, your shoulder hunches up to brace for impact. “Why don’t I leave with Jason so we could give you some alone time?”

 You blink in disbelief and Jaehee pouts at your lack in response. 

 “C’mon, Y/N! How about just…thirty minutes? Yeah, thirty minutes! If you’re not feeling him even then…. then you can leave and I’ll never speak of it again."

 You think that’s about as good as it’s going to get with Jaehee and your mind processes and contemplates it as well. It’s not ideal but you don’t see any harm in chatting a guy one on one for thirty minutes, if it means you could say at least you tried and it’ll put this entire thing to rest once and for all.

 “Okay, fine.” You sigh out with reluctance. “Thirty minutes but that’s it.”

 Jaehee squeals and nods obviously pleased and with one last fluff to her hair, she pulls you out of the washroom and back to your table. Jason and Mike are unsurprisingly chatting it up and having a great time with each other (so much so that you think ruefully that maybe they should be left alone). But at yours and Jaehee’s approach, their attention is drawn, both shooting smiles.

 “Oh you’re finally back.” Jason remarks, “We got another bottle of grapefruit soju since it’s pretty good.” He picks up the green bottle to give it a shake. Jaehee however, makes to pull him up and out of his seat. He follows obediently, although a bit puzzled.

 “Oh sorry, I just remembered I have something to give you Jason so we need to get going.” Jaehee smiles blindingly, cheeks puffing up and eyes creasing as she continues to tug at Jason. “But hey, how about Mike and Y/N finish the bottle? We’ll get the bill this time, our treat! So you just take your time okay?"

 “Oh, uh, sure? If that’s okay?” Mike shifts his eyes to you as you awkwardly shuffle over to make way for the other couple. Your eyes dart to him, a nervous laugh bubbling past your lips as you rub your neck.

 “Y-Yeah, thanks Jaehee…Jason... No worries... I like grapefruit soju….”

 “Great! Then we’ll get going, it was nice seeing you again Mike! Bye Y/N, text me!” And before you know it, Jaehee zips off with Jason in tow and mentally you brace yourself; no doubt that this will probably be the longest thirty minutes of your life.

 Okay, Y/N relax. Just have a casual talk with this guy for thirty minutes and then you can leave and go to sleep. It’s not that deep. You think to yourself as you slide into the bench seat across from Mike who cracks open the bottle and graciously fill your glass for you. You take it with a smile and as he raises his up for you to clink against, you do so before downing it without hesitation, the drink still chilled enough that it seems to cool your nerves.

 Your conversations with Mike were as you had predicted; nothing of interest to note. You talked movies; about the food you just ate which lead to food preferences to other interests that you don’t go too in depth with (at least on your behalf, Mike doesn’t seem shy on talking about how he’s really into cars). 

 Eventually, you make the conscious decision of stopping yourself from taking anymore shots of soju because you realized by the second and a half glass, you’re starting to faintly feel the creeping affects of the alcohol, a light misting of inebriation blanketing your mind causing you to find it difficult to recall how much time has passed. So when Mike had offered to refill your glass, you politely decline. The bottle was still a little more than halfway done, and though Mike attempts to get you to help him out, you were steadfast in sobering up by the time you get to leave.

 Besides, the alcohol is starting to mess with your sense of judgment in which you can actually feel the deterioration of a rather vital thing to your conscious; a filter.

 Which brings you to eyeing your phone surreptitiously from under the table, what should’ve been just a peek to read Jaehee’s text reminding you to call her if you needed anything, turned into a rapidly growing curiosity of ‘what-ifs’ that involve a certain demon.

 What if you just…talk to him?

 You’re hearing Jaehee’s words echo in your head, though you swear somewhere in the back of your mind they’re way out of context. But the point of it remains; what would happen if you were to send a text to him? Would he be annoyed? Would he text back? Hell, you don’t even know if he’s still alive! What if his boss was unsatisfied with his work and just straight up burned him to a crisp with the infernal flames of hell?! Oh my god! Why haven’t you thought of that before?! Now it’s been over a week since you’ve last heard of him you’re so stupid—!

 “Hey, Y/N!” 

 “…Huh? Oh? Sorry did you say something?”

 Mike, who stares at you with a rather glazed look, pulls you from irrationally making one direct call to hell. A quick glance at the soju bottle tells you he’s made good work on it, coming down to the last glassful. A little pink in the face but he still looks way better than you would if you'd down that much soju. 

 “I was askin’ if you had a boyfriend.”

 Oh.

 “Um…’s been a while; got too busy with school and work.” 

 “So…do I have a chance with you?”

 …. HUH?

 You freeze, doing a double take. “W-What?”

 “You know, a chance to be with you…"

 Okay so you didn’t hear wrong. That still doesn’t mean you know how to respond to that appropriately. You didn’t want to hurt him because you’re sure it’s liquid courage that’s making him ask this, also the fact that he hasn’t done anything to upset you.

 “Aha…whoa uh,” You flounder through a nervous laugh because you’d rather get some sort of response out instead of remain silent. “I uh, I…dunno…?” 

 “What’s not to know?” He asks rather boldly and you’re completely taken aback. “I thought we had somethin’ goin’ on.” 

 “H-Hey, I think you’re a nice guy, but I don’t think I'm really looking for a relationship right now. I’m sorry if I lead you on somehow.” 

 “So would you ever love me?”

 Now you’re speechless, can’t really believe just how fast things have snowballed that it almost has your mind sobering up in an instant. You’ve tried your best to let him down gently but it’s like it’s not getting through to him. Perhaps you should take it as a sign as your cue to leave.

 “Uhh…I think I should go. You should go too! It’s…late. It’s been nice.” You slide out from the other side, clutching at your purse and phone. Your heart’s pounding in your chest again and you can feel it pulsing in your ear too. You fumble with shaky fingers to type in your phone’s lock code, getting it wrong twice before getting it right to tap on Jaehee’s number. You press the phone close to your ear, letting the dial tone ring as your feet take you out of the restaurant and onto the streets. The chilly night air does wonders in further clearing your mind but it also makes you painfully aware of how hot your face still feels.

 “Hey Y/N! How’s the date going?” Jaehee’s cheery voice comes through after the third ring. 

 “H-Hey Jaehee! Uh..um…I wouldn’t say well…? He might have had too much to drink so he sorta—“ You’re speed walking in the direction of your home, completely tunnel visioning so you fail to notice a pair of heavy footsteps fast approaching you from behind. A force almost knocks you over; you stumble forward in a mess of legs, fighting to stay upright the same time you feel your phone being ripped out of your grasp.

 “Jaehee? Is that you? Y-Yeah everythin’s okay! I’m okay! Y/N’s takin’ me home now, drank too much haha! She’s just lettin’ ya know! Yeah, yeah no don’t worry! Okay bye!” 

 By the time you’ve righted yourself, Mike’s hung up on Jaehee with the bullshit he’s spewed. You’re absolutely livid when you turn on him with a glare so piercing you’d think Jimin would be proud.

 “What's wrong with you?!” You yell out, trying to snatch your phone back but Mike who’s significantly taller than you, easily keeps it at bay with minimal effort. It only makes you fly more into a blinding rage.

 “W-Wait! Let’s head back to my place and chill?”

 “Like hell I would! Give me back my phone!” 

 “At least walk with me to the subway?” 

 You’re heaving with effort, energy exerted from your fail attempts at getting your phone and your pause to catch your breath must’ve made him think you were going to agree to his request because he’s looking at you hopefully. You wanted to laugh in his face but you’d rather face the devil himself at this point than be with this guy for another minute.

 “I’ll call you an Uber! Now give me my phone!” You seethe.

 “C’mon Y/N, don’t be like that. I’ve been nice to you so can you at least—“

 You swear steam is coming out of your ears at this point, your hands shaking at the audacity and just when you’ve locked in your choice to rugby tackle him with all your body mass, another voice cuts through the both of you.

 “I do believe the young lady said no.” His drawl is a bone-chilling calm that you could almost feel the temperature drop even further by it. 

 Under the flickering street lamp’s light, you catch a wisp of black smoke; the tendrils trail before fading out of sight over Mike’s shoulder. You follow it up until you reach Mike’s hand — the one holding your phone — where you see extra digits wrapped firmly around his wrist, nails digging into the skin. Mike’s head whips behind him alarmed, to reveal the shockingly beautiful face you’ve come to know.

 Jimin stands unperturbed behind Mike who visibly struggles against his hold, even when Jimin is at least a good inch shorter than him. His face an inscrutable mask and eyes swirling a deep garnet, the only thing betraying his utter displeasure.

 “H-Hey what the fuck man! Who are—ARGH!!” Mike’s exclamations turns into a howl of pain at the sounds of a crack, hand dropping your phone to which Jimin smoothly catches and lets him crumple to the ground to cradle his wrist. You step back to avoid being in his line of falling, mouth gaping and trying to catch up with what just happened. So far, you’ve only registered that Jimin is here.

 “Darling you’ll catch flies if you keep that up.” Jimin tuts, stepping over Mike’s curled up body. He takes your hand and places your phone in it and you’re in such disbelief that you nearly drop it. He still looks immaculate as ever, dressed in an all black except this time he’s wearing a cozy looking turtleneck under a leather jacket and fitted jeans. His hair is styled in the usual way it is — coiffed with a few strands hanging over his forehead with such volume that it made you envious— but you’re shocked to see that it was no longer plain silver; there’s a blueish tint to it now. The sight mesmerizes you.

 Jimin goes to say something teasing, you just know it as you see the upturn corner of his mouth but before he can get it out, a shuffling and a grunt from behind makes his face drop back into the frighteningly stony mask again, plush lips drawn into a line. You see Mike stumble to his feet, still clutching at his wrist while trying to burn a hole into the back of Jimin’s head. 

 It was then that you realize that Mike, a human much like yourself, is staring directly at Jimin and now that you think about it, he had also addressed Jimin when he first appeared just as he does now.

 “W-Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Mike growls. Jimin merely scoffs; you don’t need to see his face to know he’s probably rolled his eyes. But instead of addressing the angry man, Jimin slaps on a benevolent smile your way and begins to usher you.

 “Come darling, you must be cold standing out here and we really ought to get—“ He cuts himself off by reaching up and catching a flying fist aimed at him. You gasp out in shock at the speed and the suddenness of Mike actually having the balls to try to throw a punch. Eyes wide, you look up to gauge Jimin’s reaction to find that yes, he looks pissed; jaw clenched and eyes burning with hellfire itself.

 You let out a surprise yelp as Jimin clamps down on Mike’s fist and with little effort, flips him and begins to drag him off, heading to an alley concealed by shadows. You scurry after him after snapping out of your initial shock, panicked and stuttering out words incoherently because you are not going to have another dead body on your conscious, at least not someone who you actually knew no matter how douche-y he turned out to be.

 “I’ll break your other wrist, and then your legs, and then your neck. And if you want a tour of hell, come back three more times.” You hear Jimin spit out between gritted teeth, but you highly doubt it got through to Mike who’s too busy writhing, screaming and cursing from the ground.

 “Jimin! Wait, I said no killing! Jimin! Hey, you jerk! Listen to me!” You had to yell over Mike’s voice, wondering how it is that you guys haven’t woken up the whole neighbourhood yet as you push against Jimin’s very firm chest to get him to halt in his tracks.

 “Sweetie, not now. I need to enact the Lord’s good graces and teach this petulant human some manners.” 

 “That does not make any sense! And—SHUT UP!” The incessant yelling from Mike finally gets to you, having heard enough of his voice for the night as you impulsively deliver an adrenaline filled kick to his face. He knocks out immediately.

Jimin drops his hold on Mike’s fist with an unceremonious thump, bewildered. “Way to kill steal from me, pumpkin.”

 You gasp loudly, nerves shaken from what you just did and what Jimin has just told you as a new wave of rising panic sets in. “O-Oh my god did I actually kill him?! Is he dead?! I didn’t mean—!”

 Your demon guardian throws his head back, a boisterous laughter escaping him as he folds in on himself. You jump back startled and could only stare on in silent horror because of course he would find this funny and would be of no help!

 “J-Jimin! This isn’t funny! What are we gonna do now?!” 

 “Relax darling…” He finally wheezes out, straightening himself up while wiping the corner of his eyes. “He’s not dead, unfortunately; just K.O’ed by a swift kick to the face. Probably broke his nose though so good job on that.” 

 You gape like a fish out of water and all he does is stare back at you with the lingering traces of a fond smile that has your traitor of a heart skipping a beat. Damn him!

 “You—!” You start, huffing and puffing and though words escape you, your fists don’t as you land a hit on his chest. He takes it with little resistant, relenting himself as you let out your pent up frustrations. “You stupid jerk and your pretty stolen face! Just showing up like you own the place without even saying anything to me for more than a week! And then let some other stupid jerk try to get a jump on me! Some guardian demon you are! I could’ve just handled it all myself!” 

 You tire yourself out by the time you’re done your tirade, strength leaving your arms as they slap uselessly against the leather of his jacket until you stop altogether. Jimin’s quiet, the quietest you think he’s ever been. You refuse to make eye contact with him, staring determinedly down on his shiny black loafers but instead of some snarky comment about owing him for using him as a punching bag, you hear a shuffle of movement and then something heavy drapes over your shoulder, a waft of all too familiar vanilla lavender smell easing whatever remaining tension left in your body.

 Your gaze automatically whips up to his. He busies himself securing the jacket to you before his eyes wander to meet yours; the soft brown colour that stares back comforts you.

 “You’ve had a rough night darling, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there. So I’ll forgive you for beating up my Saint Laurent jacket and we’ll call it even?” 

 For a moment, you thought of scowling him and his love for name brand things but all you really want to do now is go home and fall asleep, so you nod softly, giving in. Jimin lets out a quiet chuff of amusement, hand coming up to stroke your hair with a gentleness that has your heart aching with the disgruntlement that you do miss having him by your side.

 “Y/N!” A shout freezes you up like cold water being dumped over your head as you whip towards the source of the call. To your astonishment, you see a familiar face running towards you, her figure unmistakable and as she draws nearer, you can see clearly who it is.

 It’s Jaehee.

 She slows to a stop, panting heavily from how hard she must’ve ran, shoulders slumped as she braces herself on her knees but even then she’s still trying to muster out words in between gasps of breath. “You called and….suddenly Mike was on the phone! Saying how he drank too much? That you were taking him home! And I just…I had such a bad feeling I had to… Are you okay?!”

 Jaehee makes to lunge at you but stops midway as she finally notices your frozen, wide eyed appearance and you see with pinpoint accuracy the way her eyes trail from your face to your shoulders to the extra hand on your shoulder all the way up to Jimin who is quite at a loss for words as well. 

 You watch with baited breath as she squints up at him with a gaze so fixated on analyzing him, a myriad of emotions flitting across her own face before she utters.

 “Have I…seen you from somewhere?”

#park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #bts demon au #bts fics #jimin fic #park jimin fic #park jimin fluff #bts jimin fic #bts jimin scenarios #bts jimin scenario #jimin #jimin fluff #jimin x you #jimin fics #jimin fanfic #park jimin fanfic #bts au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts supernatural au #park jimin scenarios #jimin reader insert #jimin x reader insert

[writersblock-x]

Lonely Nights.

Four days.

It had been four days since you had seen Mike.

You missed him. You missed his warm smile, his scent, his touch…his touch. You had to stop yourself as thoughts of the last time you had Mike’s touch began to consume you.

You wondered when he would come home to you. Just one quick text? Just to check in, that's all. Three minutes later you hear your phone ping. Mike! And another night sleeping in the crib at the precinct. Great.

You needed a plan. You blush as a thought pops into your head. You'd never done it before, but the thought of it excited you.

You put on your black lace lingerie and found one of Mike's shirts lying around your apartment. You put it on, leaving it unbuttoned, and get on to your bed. You took a quick photo, just enough to see some black laced cleavage and your collarbone draped in his shirt. You thought about it, and how he'd be with the squad, but lying there like that got the better of you. Sent.

No more than a minute later you hear your phone. For a moment you hesitate to open the text.

Nice shirt. By the way, you're in trouble when I get home. Try to keep still.

This had been your problem all along. You couldn't stay still when it came to him. He did something to you. But your plan was working! Hook, line and sinker.

You took another snap; legs slightly open, knees together and wrists crossed in front.

Arrest me, Sergeant.

Within seconds you receive a response. It's a photo of Mike stashing a pair of handcuffs into his pants pocket. You also notice seven sets of feet under the table, you briefly wonder who the seventh pair of feet belong to. Your phone goes off again. Another text from Mike.

My clothes are coming off the second I get home, but I am going to make beg for it.

Your whole body tightened, your face pink amongst everything else you felt. You reached a point where you couldn't let it continue like this, it had to end your way.

This time you had left little to the imagination. Mike's shirt now barely covered your shoulders as you positioned yourself on the bed showing off all of your assets. New plan.

Before you sent the text, you grabbed your coat, put on your shoes and before you knew it you headed for the door. You hailed a cab and got in, you asked him to drop you off at the station, and sent the text.

The anticipation is killing me, I love the way you make me feel but I don't think I'll be able to wait for you to get home.

You arrive at the front desk and ask for Sergeant Dodds of SVU. The desk clerk makes a call, and sends you up.

You walk through the elevator and into the meeting room to the side to find a group of detectives but no Mike. You've never met Mike's colleagues before, you both agreed to keep your relationship under wraps for now.

A beautiful brunette woman stands and asks if she can help you, this must be the Lieutenant. "Hello, I'm looking for Mike Dodds, the desk clerk advised he was here." Olivia smiles at you and asks you to follow her.

As you walk down a hall, you see two men standing by the vending machine. The click of your shoes makes their heads turn simultaneously. Oh dear god, Chief Dodds. The seventh pair of feet, what was he possibly doing here? Mike looks at you with slight confusion masking the desire in his eyes.

"Excuse me Chief Dodds, Mike you have a visitor." Olivia announces who is still a little confused herself. Chief Dodds gives his son a wary look as Mike excuses himself and leads you into an interrogation room.

"Couldn't wait until I got home, huh?" Mike asks, smirk on his face as he watches yours, he notices it's laced with caution. "What is it?" He asks.

"Your father is here..." You advise him. "That kind of put a hold to my plans." Mike tilts his head, still trying to work out what's going on.

Mike's phone buzzes, and he pulls it out of his pants pocket finding the text you sent earlier. He raises an eye brow at you and raises his hands to your waist, planting a kiss on your lips. His hand moves to the belt of your coat and pulls it loose wanting to be closer to you. Mesmerised, you forget what's underneath your coat, or lack there of. Mikes hand moves inside your coat and onto your hip, he takes a step back as he felt your exposed skin. His head tilts, taking the sight of you in before you wrap yourself back up.

"Your plan, huh?" He smirks, desire written all over his face. Mike takes your hand and pulls you into him, you coat open again, your bare skin on his suit. He kisses you again, this time deeper, more passionately. The moments broken by a knock on the glass behind you.

Mike wraps you back up and asks for a minute. Clearly flustered, he walks out and is gone for what feels like an hour. You wonder who's out there and how long they've been watching. Mike returns, snapping you out of your thoughts. Almost more flustered than before, Mike takes your hand and leads you out of the other door in the room and down the hall.

"Well..." You ask him noncommittally but dying on the inside. "My father." He responded, running his hands through his hair. Fuck. "Nearest fire exit, please." Your face bright red. Mike smirks, trying to contain a chuckle. You nudge him in the ribs, this is hardly amusing.

He lets go of your hand and walks into the meeting room to grab his coat. The rest of the squad seem to be packing their things and also heading home. They say their goodbyes and leave. Olivia gives Mike a sympathising smile as Chief Dodds stands behind her. He has a wild look on his face, wild with anger. That can't be good. Mike bids his farewells and walks back to you, his father glaring in your direction. Excellent. Mike takes your hand and you walk out of the precinct together.

As you drove home Mike continued to chuckle, occasionally moving his hand from your knee to your thigh. You want to be mad because good god that was embarrassing but the look on his face diminishes how you feel. "Save it for home, Sergeant," you smirk, "we've got into enough public mischief today don't you agree?" Mike smiles at you, a cheeky devilish grin. "I told you that you were in a world of trouble, and that was before your surprise visit," he explains. "When we get home, you'll do exactly as I say, do you understand?" You feel yourself get hotter, "yes, Sergeant."

Mike turns the key to his apartment, motioning for you to go inside before him. You hear the door close behind you, turning to him you put your hands on his neck, smiling sweetly. He takes your hands and spins you around, his hands go to your stomach pulling the belt of your coat loose. He gently kisses your neck and pulls the coat off of you, you lean back grinding into his hips. Immediately he stops you, pulling your hands behind your back, you hear the metal clink as he cuffs your right wrist, then your left. "Bedroom. Now." Who are you to argue with the man?

You saunter over to the bedroom, occasionally looking over your shoulder at him. He stays a little way back, watching your every move. You lean up against the door frame and go to remove your heels. "Leave them on" he commanded. He walks over to you backing you into the wall, kissing and nipping from your ear down to your collarbone savouring every bite. His hands move down your body, you feel every featherweight touch. Wrists still bound there's nothing you can do but beg, no words just each sharp breathe at every move he makes. Mike picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. Whack! Your ass stings. "That's for getting me worked up tonight, and this one," he says as he spanks you again, "is for the lecture I'm going to hear tomorrow" he says as he throws you on to the bed.

You watch him undress, eagerly undoing his shirt as he kicks off his shoes, then his pants. He crawls onto the bed, kissing from your knee up to your inner thigh, smirking every time he hears your breath hitch. He moves up to your stomach and continues to kiss you all over, making his way up to your chest. With one hand he moves to your back, removing your lace number as his leg came up and with his knee he spread your legs. "Tell me you want me," he said, his voice rough. "I want you," you moaned into his mouth. "I want you, who?" You smirked as your breath hitched again, "I want you, Sergeant." With your omission, Mike pulls the remaining lace left on your hips and rips them off, taking off his briefs his erection springs free. With one swift movement he pulls you on top of his lap and is inside of you. As you grind on his lap, you feel your body continue to tighten, his free hand rubbing your clit as the other holds you from behind. You throw your head back, your body starts to almost convulse as you feel the pressure building. Mike pulls your head back to him, his tongue drawing circles in your mouth. As you beg for mercy, he bites your bottom lip as he comes, and you so to not long after.

Collapsing on top of him, he kisses your hair holding you tightly. You shimmy your wrists, asking for freedom to which he provides, pulling the key off of the dresser next to him. Exhausted, you fall asleep in his arms.

As the sunlight comes through the window, you stretch out and roll through the nuzzle to face Mike. Already awake, he kisses your forehead, "good morning" he smiles. "Good morning" you smile, your groggy voice causing him to chuckle. "Why don't you have a shower while I start on breakfast?" you offer. With that, he kisses you again and makes his way to the bathroom. Eventually you pull yourself from the bed, throwing Mike's shirt from last night on and make your way to the kitchen. As you begin to fry up bacon and eggs there's a knock at the door. Forgetting who's apartment you're in, you head over and open it.

Your mouth drops, "Chief Dodds, good morning."

#law and order svu #mike dodds #mike dodds x reader

[atc74]

I Owe It All To You

Square Filled: high school au (for @spnfluffbingo)

Square Filled: Friends to Lovers (for @spngenrebingo)

Warnings: fluff, nervous Rob, cuteness, implied sexy times

Summary: Y/N signs up for the senior talent show, asking Rob to play guitar for her. Little does he know, she had a whole plan.

Pairing: Rob x Reader

Word Count: 1600-ish with lyrics

Written for: @spnfluffbingo and @spngenrebingo

Thank you to my beta @hannahindie - yous the best!

This fic was inspired by this photo (courtesy of Rob Benedict’s Instagram)

“Hey Rob!” Y/N called out as she spotted Rob in the hall after lunch. He turned around as she caught up with him.

“Oh hey, Y/N. Um, uh, how are you?” he stumbled.

“Oh, yeah, I am so good! Did you see the sign up sheet for the senior talent show?” she asked, her excitement evident in her voice and her body language; the girl could not stand still.

“Oh yeah. I saw it. So, a-are you going to sign up?” he asked, staring at his feet, unable to make eye contact with her.

“Well, I want to, but I was wondering if you would sign up with me? You know, maybe sing and play guitar?” she smiled sweetly up at him.

“Oh, yeah, I think I could do that,” Rob mumbled, shuffling his Chucks on the worn tile floor.

“You would?!” she exclaimed. Jumping with delight, she threw her arms around Rob.

He fumbled for a moment, losing his balance. He regained his footing, hesitantly patting her on the back. “Sure. I’d do anything for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much Rob. This is going to be so awesome!” she squealed, then ran off in the opposite direction.

Y/N and Rob had been friends since childhood, going to the same elementary, junior high and then highschool. Y/N was the bubbly child that made friends easily. Whereas Rob was a little on the shy side, immersing himself in music and learning to play the guitar. He was kind and sweet and they remained friends.

Y/N had been waiting for all year for the senior talent show. She had been hiding something from Rob for a few years, but she decided the talent show would be the right time. Prom was right around the corner and she needed to get a move on. She gathered the sheet music she had purchased and skipped all the way to Rob’s house, a smile on her pretty face. She stopped at the garage door and knocked loudly three times. Rob answered the door and she pushed her way inside.

“What were you playing?” she asked as she took a seat on the stool next to where he had set up. “I really liked it.”

“Oh, it’s nothing and it definitely isn’t finished yet,” Rob said, nervously rubbing the back of his head and neck. “So is that your music?”

“Oh yeah! Here!” she shoved the papers in his hand and stared at the sheets.

“This is what we are singing?” he asked.

“I love this song!” she shouted. “I listened to it all the way here on my walkman!”

Okay. I can do this. Rob thought to himself.

“I am going to need a couple days with the music. Are you planning on having any other instruments, or just guitar?”

“Just guitar. But if you think it needs drums and a synthesizer, I could probably round them up…” she leaned in a little closer.

“I mean, it is an upbeat song and it might sound a little better with more, but we can make this work. You’re sure you want me to sing this with you?” he asked skeptically. He could sing, but she made him nervous.

“Yeah, Robby. I’m so sure. So, I’ll come back on Saturday afternoon, say about three? We can start rehearsing. I am totally excited and there is only two weeks until the show!!” she jumped up and down, clapping her hands together! With a twirl she was out the door. Rob just stared at the spot she had just vacated, not believing what he had gotten himself into.

The night of the talent show came faster than either of them had anticipated. Y/N paced excitedly around the girls dressing room. In her bright pink top with matching denim mini skirt and cropped jean jacket, she was ready. She checked her hair one more time, making sure the side pony was positioned perfectly. She pursed together her bright pink lips and left the room, walking to the backstage area where she saw Rob waiting for her.

He was dressed casually in gray pants and a t-shirt, with a gray and white striped button down. His guitar was already strapped across his body, but he looked nervous. This was it, she thought and she ran up to him.

“Hi Rob!” she panted with excited energy. “You ready for this?”

“Hey, Y/N. Yeah this is it, huh?” he looked around.

“I really think we have a shot at winning. This is so cool!” she squeaked. “By the way, you don’t need the guitar. I found the instrumental music so I gave them that instead. This way we can just concentrate on singing.” Rob’s eyes went wide at her confession.

The previous act, a ballet dancer, hobbled off the stage and through the curtain, clearly having hurt herself. “Good luck Y/N.”

“Thanks, Lucy,” Y/N replied as she limped away. “Well, that totally sucks for her.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for our next performers, Y/N Y/L/N and Rob Benedict!” The audience started clapping. Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him through the curtain with her.

Rob blinked his eyes a few times, adjusting to the bright stage lights. Y/N handed him a microphone just as the music started. She gave him a nod and he started singing.

Now I've had the time of my life

No, I never felt like this before

Yes I swear it's the truth

And I owe it all to you

Y/N met his gaze as she started the next verse.

'Cause I've had the time of my life

And I owe it all to you

They traded verses as the song played.

I've been waiting for so long

Now I've finally found someone to stand by me

We saw the writing on the wall

And we felt this magical fantasy

They both joined in, their voices harmonizing perfectly.

Now with passion in our eyes

There's no way we could disguise it secretly

So we take each others hand

'Cause we seem to understand the urgency

Just remember

You're the one thing

I can't get enough of

So I'll tell you something

This could be love because

No, I never felt this way before

Yes I swear it's the truth

And I owe it all to you

Hey baby

Rob hit the lyric with just the right amount of grit in his young voice.

The crowd started clapping along with the beat of the music as they continued their performance.

As the last chorus came along, Y/N moved right next to Rob, turning to him and looking him right in the eyes and singing with him. The music faded out but she never looked away, but neither did Rob. Applause filled the auditorium, but she only saw and heard Rob.

He finally broke her trance by grabbing her hand and pulling her to face the audience. They took their bows before Rob pulled her off stage. The two of them hugging once the current closed.

“Rob! Thank you so much! This was totally radical! I don’t even care if we win!” she hugged him once more.

“I think I already did,” he whispered as he held her close to him.

“Rob, I really have had the time of my life. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. You’ve been my best friend for years,” she confessed.

“I owe it all to you, Y/N,” Rob told her.

“So that is the story of how Rob and I went from friends to more than friends. Thirty years later, we’re still here and better than ever,” Y/N told the audience. “I hope that answers your question, Doll.”

“I think that more than answered her question, Honey,” Rob’s voice sounded through the ballroom as he walked back out on stage.

“Well, I feel it it required a thorough answer!” Y/N exclaimed, looking at the audience for confirmation. Rob stood beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her on the cheek. The crowd “awww’d” at the sweet display of affection from the couple.

“Sorry, Honey but that was the last question for you. You ran out of time,” Rob tsked as he walked back to the microphone.

“But...there is so much more to tell! Like our first date, when you proposed, the kids…” Y/N rambled on. Rob finally took her mic away from and she feigned offense.

“Can we keep a few things just between us?” Rob looked at her, pleaded with his brilliant baby blues.

“Well if you insist. But I can promise you tonight, there won’t be anything between us,” she winked and waved to the crowd as she made her way off stage.

Later when Rob returned to their hotel room, his wife met him at the door.

“Did you have a good night, Babe?” she asked, a glass of wine in her hand and she extended the other toward him.

“I had the time of my life, but nothing compares to coming home to you,” he answered. “But we’re in trouble. Everyone I met today requested we sing that song at the concert tomorrow night, so Mike and Billy went out and got the sheet music. You think you’re ready to do that in front of a much larger crowd this time?” He asked, his eyebrows raised.  

“I am more than ready and I owe it all to you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips.

The Whole Enchilada - join the fiesta: @sis-tafics​  @holyfuckloueh​ @gh0stgurl​ @hobby27​  @bethbabybaby @anspgene​ @paintrider13-blog​ @cyrilconnelly​ @just-another-busy-fangirl​ @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms​ @roxyspearing​ @heyitscam99​ @iwantthedean​ @jpadjackles​ @mogaruke​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @x-waywardaf-x​ @myoutletforfanfiction​ @growningupgeek​ @spnbaby-67​ @wonderange​ @emoryhemsworth​ @impalaimagining​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @katymacsupernatural​ @hennessy0274-blog​ @rockhoochie​ @charliebradbury1104​ @pinknerdpanda​ @hannahindie​ @wingedcatninja​ @highfunctioning-sociopath​ @speakinvain​ @evansrogerskitten​ @percussiongirl2017​ @blacktithe7​ @theoriginalvicki​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @sweetpeamoose​ @sandlee44​ @mottergirl99​ @meeshw777​ @squirrel-moose-winchester​ @milkymilky-cocopuff​ @meganwinchester1999​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @grace-for-sale​ @andkatiethings​ @nanie5​ @monkeymcpoopoo​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @drakelover78​ @dolphincliffs

Rob Worshipers: @natasha-cole @ellen-reincarnated1967 @a-queen-and-her-throne @shanghai88

#spngenrebingo #spnfluffbingo #rob benedict #rob benedict x reader #rob benedict fluff #rob x reader #rob x reader fluff #rob benedict fanfiction

[davidcarner]

Casey & Walker Ch 1, The Rookie

A/N: This is like nothing I've ever done in fanfiction. It is like what I've done in my novels, so I have some idea what I'm doing (SOME). It probably is more like Aces, Charles than anything I've done on here. I'm throwing it up since there was interest. If you hate it, tell me, if you love it, tell me, if it's eh, tell me. It won't leave me alone...about the time I get one done, another thought enters my head. Ch 1, The Rookie

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, I do write crime novels…if I should die, I'm going to need someone to clear my browser history…for the research I've done!

Sarah looked in the mirror. She shook her head at her clothes, realizing she looked like every stereotypical female detective on TV; a shade of navy blazer and slacks, a light colored shirt, usually a peach or cream, and sensible shoes for chasing the bad guys. She sighed as the radio droned on. The DJ cut in. "Today marks the beginning of Mayor Burton's new plan of combining detectives with those in the IT field." Sarah rolled her eyes so hard she thought they might pop out of her head. She hated Jack Burton so much…she had even told it to his face when she last saw him a few days ago. He had a photo op with her and her new partner, John Casey. IT field…why didn't he just say what it was, a cop and a nerd. She smirked. She had passed the academy with flying colors, something that shocked many, given she was an "IT specialist." With so much of today's crime being cyber related, the Mayor decided a good idea was to combine good ole fashioned police know how with up and comers in the IT industry. Sarah did love the physicalness of her training, especially since Casey agreed to help her.

She got in her car, not the Porsche; that was too much of a giveaway of who she was. Sarah put on her glasses and huffed. She had earned everything she had accomplished, there were others who didn't think so, but she could care less. She had to admit, she did look pretty badass in her "uniform." She smiled as she pulled into the Los Angeles police department. She was ready for this, she was sure of it. She had done so well at the academy, she had broken so many records. The only ones that she couldn't top belonged to someone with the initials O.R. She walked into the station and noticed the chaos. She looked over and found her partner, John. He was already up and heading her way.

"Come on, Kid," he said. "We've caught a murder." Sarah's eyes got wide and she followed after him quickly. They got into his Crown Vic and took off for the crime scene.

"How'd we catch this one so quick?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, the Mayor is all over us to get as many shots at cases at possible," Casey said.

"Casey, I'm sorry you got dragged into this," she said, sighing and leaning her head against her hand. John was a good detective, one of the best. He had seen action overseas in the armed forces, he was the Burton's bodyguard for a while, and he was the reason Sarah wanted to get into law enforcement. "One more thing, watch me." Sarah looked over at him. "In case I slip." Sarah grinned at him.

"Still not used to it?" she asked. Casey shook his head. "Did I make the wrong choice?" Casey sighed.

"Without getting into a bunch of lady feelings, I know why you did it," Casey said. "I also know you didn't tell them because they didn't tell you about this new program. The three of you are the worst at communication I know, and that's coming from me." Casey looked at her, and she bounced a shoulder. "Jenny, you are one of the smartest people I know, and you are also one of the most stubborn, however, there is one more stubborn, and it just happens to be your father, the Mayor of LA. So why I get why you changed your name, it hurt them, and I'm not sure you didn't do that on purpose."

"All I want to do is live my life," Sarah said, looking out the window.

"Kid, he cares, and he's involved," Casey replied. "Would you rather him not even be in your life?"

"No, but there's a nice place in the middle," Sarah said grinning. Casey nodded as they pulled up to the crime scene. "By the way, is this the only time you wear a suit?" Casey grinned.

"I know a lot of the kids today don't, but I'm old school, so I guess I should look the part," Casey said. "Let's go." The two got out of the car and walked up to the crime scene tape. One of the uniform officers let them under. Casey was being informed of things, and Sarah was listening while taking in everything around her. The crime looked to have taken place in the mouth of an alley. It was blocked off by the yellow crime scene tape, but something else caught Sarah's eye. There looked to be a homeless person further down in the alley, slouching over a cart. His hair was long, dirty, and stringy. His clothes looked like something found in an 80s thrift store, but two things jumped out at her. The first was his shoes. They were Chuck Taylor's, a popular shoe in the 80s, but they didn't look like they were as worn as the rest of his clothes, the other thing was his eyes. He was far away, but for a split second, she made eye contact with him, they were warm chocolate eyes, something she didn't expect to see in a person who had clearly gone through quite a bit in life. He was hunched over, so she thought he was around 6 foot tall, but he could be taller. He seemed skinny, lanky even. He didn't bolt at the eye contact that most of the homeless did she saw in the city. She started toward him, when an arm grabbed her.

"Whoa," Casey said softly. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to talk to that guy over there," Sarah said. "Chances are he saw something, most ignore the homeless, and there's a good chance that he saw what happened." Casey grinned and nodded.

"Good eye, Kid," Casey said appreciatively. "It's your first day, let me handle him, chances are your olfactory senses aren't ready for him, if you know what I mean." Sarah gave him a grateful smile, and nodded her head, acquiescing. She looked around the scene and noticed multiple tarps over the area.

"Why so many?" she asked the officer on scene. He went a little green.

"That's the body," he said. She looked around, confused. "He's been dismembered, for a lack of better word."

"And no one saw it or reported it?!" she said.

"Would you?" he asked. Sarah thought. They weren't in the best part of town. If something did happen, most would run, to save their own skin. She looked over to where Casey was, and she learned something. He was leaning against the wall, looking at the scene, right by the yellow tape. Less than five feet away was the homeless man talking. To a person passing by, it looked like Casey was simply making notes on the scene, while a homeless man was babbling incessantly. After a bit, the homeless man took off. Casey remained where he was, still looking like he was making crime scene notes. After a bit, he closed the notebook, and headed over to his partner. Just before he got to her, his phone rang. He answered, and if Sarah didn't know better he was expecting whatever he heard. He hung up, and walked over to her, his mouth in a tight smile, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"We have caught a break, a confession," Casey said.

"How did you know?" she asked. Casey looked confused. "You knew that phone call was coming, you weren't surprised by the phone call." For a split second, so fast, that Sarah could have believed she was imagining it, she saw surprise on his face, followed by respect, but just as quickly it was gone, followed by his normal schooled expression. "As long as I've done this, little shocks me, Walker," he said, trying out the name. Sarah grinned.

"Casey and Walker," she said, nodding. Casey returned the grin and nodded.

"We're either a hell of a detective team or a lawyer firm…a bad one," he said. Sarah laughed.

}o{

Sarah looked at the file in front of her. The deceased was Emmett Milbarge, an assistant manager at a big box electronics store in Burbank….he looked familiar. She dug around and found what she was looking for, he worked for the Buy More. Oh, that guy. Sarah huffed, not wanting to think bad of the dead, but he was a bit of jerk…that wasn't fair…he was really a jerk. She pulled up the file of the man who had confessed, one Stephen Bartowski. She glanced through his file, history of mental problems, but nothing that showed the type of rage required to commit such a violent crime. The theory was Milbarge had been conned by Bartowski and confronted him. Bartowski…that name sounded familiar. She checked the computer, and found she didn't yet have clearance. She looked around, didn't see anyone, and decided using black hat skills at a white hat job was okay. They didn't call her Piranha for nothing in the hacker world. She got into the system and found what she was looking for. That was weird…Stephen wasn't a con artist, it was his wife, Mary. They had two children…social services had removed them from the home at a young age, a Eleanor "Ellie" Woodcomb, nee Bartowski and one Charles Irving Bartowski. She found the file on Ellie and found that she was a doctor and lived nearby with her husband a Dr. Devon Woodcomb. The two children had been sent to live with a Bolonia Grimes and Michael "Big Mike" Tucker. Sarah's eyes raised. "Big Mike" was the manager of the Buy More that Emmett worked at.

Sarah shut the file and thought for a moment. That would make a lot of sense. Stephen was trying to find his kids, Emmett may have confronted him, and Stephen had a psychotic break…but that kind of rage? Obviously she was no mental health expert, but the man in the interrogation room didn't look or act like a man who could dismembered someone. She saw Casey watching her, and turned to him.

"What am I doing wrong?" she asked. Casey looked troubled, for a split second, and then he shook his head.

"Sarah, we're partners, in the end we have to have each other's back, but obviously if something about a case bothers you, you need to investigate it," he said. "It's going to be a bit before we talk to him. Lawyers are going to be involved." Sarah looked surprised. "He is a genius who built the Intersect communications device. He spent all his time working on it, he has friends in very high places, but at the end of the day, he's a recluse, to the point his own kids went with their grifting mother." Casey shrugged. "Family, what can you do?" Sarah grinned knowing what he was getting at. "Do what you do, and we'll deal with it," he said, heading off. The way he said "we'll deal with it"…she shook her head. She was getting paranoid. "By the way, I'll try and get you into the system sometime today, but since you have other ways and I have more pressing matters…" he said, sneaking up behind her, making her jump. She swatted him good naturedly.

She went back into the system, looking for Charles Irving Bartowski, but found nothing. She thought for a minute and went to find Casey. He was in the break room. "I'm going to the Buy More to talk to people there and see if I can find anything." Casey nodded.

"That's good police work, Walker," he said, winking. She went downstairs, got in her car and drove out to the Buy More. When she walked in, she thought someone might come to her quickly, given the way she was dressed, she thought she screamed cop. Two employees took a look at her and ran away, most everyone else ignored her, except for one female, in a short black skirt, black fishnet stockings, a white button-up shirt that was a little too tight, and a tie.

"Help you, Five-oh?" she asked. Sarah smiled.

"I need to talk to the manager." She nodded, gave her the one finger, "wait here" and headed toward the back. She looked over to the DVDs where she thought she saw someone disappear, but a short man with a beard headed toward her.

"Wow," he said. "I bet you get a lot of bad 'you can arrest me any day' jokes don't you?"

"It's my first day, so not yet," she said, tensing, ready for a come one. The guy nodded.

"I'm Morgan Grimes," he said, offering his hand. "I'm assuming you're here about Emmett?" Sarah was surprised. She thought he'd be creepy, she shook his hand. "My step-dad, Mike is the manager, I'm guessing that's who you want to see."

"I was hoping there might be some surveillance footage from yesterday I could look at," Sarah said.

"Weirdest thing," Morgan replied. "Somehow it got wiped off of the computer." Sarah grinned.

"Bet you a Lou's sandwich I can find it," she said. Morgan grinned.

"You're on," he said.

Thirty minutes later, and one "Chuck special" later, Sarah was watching the footage as Morgan stood nearby, looking nervous.

"Something you'd like to tell me?" she asked, smirking.

"What if I know something, but telling you would only get more people hurt?" he asked. Sarah turned to him. "I'm serious." Sarah just stared at him. He gulped. "Someone or someones could die."

"I can protect you," she said.

"Like Emmett?" he asked. She turned back to the footage, and paused it. She took a picture of the man arguing with Emmett with her phone camera. She had the rest of the footage emailed to her at the police department. The man with Emmett was tall, over six foot, with gray hair, a posture of a man who felt he was of great importance, and it was obvious he was used to getting his way.

"Is this the guy you think killed Emmett?" Sarah asked. Morgan said nothing, he just looked down. She knew she could get him to talk, but legally, she shouldn't. "What's his name?" Morgan just continued to look down. "There's an innocent man going to jail."

"Maybe he's guilty of something else," Morgan mumbled, shrugging. He didn't believe that.

"Do you know Charles Bartowski?" she asked. Morgan's head shot up. "I know your mother and step-father took him in, but he seems to have disappeared. How could he just disappear?"

"He's dead," Morgan said. It was a lie, but it was a practiced lie. "Do yourself a favor, let Stephen go to jail."

"Are you saying Stephen killed Charles?" Sarah asked.

"I'm saying Chuck is gone, and it's Stephen's fault, so what does it matter?" Morgan replied. "If you leave this alone, no one else dies, if you keep this up it's going to end badly for everyone."

"Who's everyone?" she asked. There was silence. Sarah pulled out a card and gave it to him. "I am not judging you, please understand that, but I know, you know more. If you want to talk, call me. I'm here to administer justice."

"Is everyone there about administering justice?" he asked, taking the card. Sarah hadn't thought of that.

}o{

Casey watched Walker when she returned. He knew she would be trouble, but how quickly she started to sense something was wrong was incredible. She was a detective, not an IT person playing detective, but an actual detective. She was using all her skills, and one day soon, if not already, she was going to be so much better than him. He looked at the folder on his desk, and sighed. He knew what they were doing was playing with fire, but he wasn't sure who he could trust. He thought he could trust Walker, but would she trust him when she figured everything out, and she would, the question was, had she already? She walked over to him, a folder in her hand.

"Can I talk to him for a minute?" Sarah asked. Casey shrugged.

"He's waived his right to counsel and has confessed," Casey said. "ADA Larkin has already had him sign the paperwork, it's open and shut, Walker."

"Casey, it doesn't feel open and shut," she said. Casey couldn't help but smile.

"Then you trust your gut, Walker," he said. "You'll never hurt my feelings double checking something. I'd rather us be right, than me be wrong and not trust my partner." Sarah stared at him, thinking about what Morgan said. She nodded and went to the interrogation room. Casey counted to ten, slowly, and went to the observation room. She sat there quietly for a moment just looking at Stephen. After a few seconds he began to squirm. She continued to be quiet, and Stephen got very agitated.

"What, I've confessed, what do you want?" he asked. She opened the folder and pulled out the crime scene photos of Emmett's corpse having been dismembered. Stephen jumped away from the table. "Why would you show this to me!?" Sarah just looked at him. She grabbed the photos, put them in the folder, stood up, and looked directly into the two way mirror. Casey flew to the door, opened it carefully and quietly, closed it, quietly, and raced to his desk. Sarah came slowly around the corner and placed the folder on her desk.

"Anything else we need to do?" she asked. Casey shook his head wordlessly. She nodded. "Think I'll head home then…partner." With that, she held his gaze for a few seconds, turned, and left the precinct. He watched out the window as she drove away. He got up, picked the folder he had made off of his desk, and headed out the door. He went downstairs, got in his car, and drove off, never noticing Sarah's car hidden in a nearby lot, her watching him go. She put the car in drive, and went back to the precinct. She went back to their desks, and the folder Casey had was gone. She sat down in her chair and thought. She spun to one of the night shift that had come in. "You guys ever order out?" He smiled as he pulled out a folder of delivery menus. She sat back in her chair, a feed of Stephen's cell that he was about to be transported to on her monitor. It was going to be a long night.

}o{

Casey entered his apartment, and dropped the folder on his coffee table. He picked up the TV remote and found a war documentary. He walked into the kitchen, opened the freezer, picked up the lean hot pockets, the doctor warned him he needed to work on his cholesterol, put it in the microwave, picked up his bottle of Johnny Walker, and that's when he felt the draft from the window.

"Took you long enough," he said.

"There was a couple in the alley making out," the voice answered. "I was afraid they were about to go to the next level."

"That would add Peeping Tom to your breaking and entering," Casey said, waiting for the microwave to beep.

"Are you a Peeping Tom if you're watching someone have sex in public, or just a voyeur?" the man asked. Casey thought for a second, the microwave interrupted his thoughts. He pulled out his hotpockets, brought them and his Johnny Walker over, sat in his recliner, glanced at the curly haired man on his couch reading the file.

"I guess you're not a Peeping Tom," Casey admitted. The man nodded.

"Your partner's attractive," the man said cautiously. Casey grinned.

"She's a geek," Casey said, smiling.

"Nerd, that's what my dad always preferred," the man replied.

"Pretty ballsy letting your dad go to jail for that murder," Casey retorted. "Chuck, she's figured it out." Chuck looked up at Casey.

"It was his choice, it keeps mom safe," Chuck replied. "Volkoff doesn't know it was mom who got the information to the DA. Speaking of which, is Bryce safe?" Casey nodded. Chuck was quiet for a second. "She spotted me twice today."

"You wanted her to spot you," Casey said, grinning. Chuck was affronted. "Oh, quit, Bartowski. You've nearly burnt you've been undercover so long. You miss people, and she tweaks your gears."

"Tweaks my gears," Chuck mouthed, confused. "Let's pretend I know what that means, do you trust her?"

"Her dad is the mayor," Casey answered. Chuck just stared at him.

"Does she know?" Chuck asked.

"She knows, she didn't vote for him, but she knows he's the mayor," Casey replied, proud of himself. Chuck just stared at him. Casey leaned forward. "We don't know it's the Mayor, only that it's coming somewhere inside the Mayor's office." Chuck leaned back. "But she'd bust him in a minute if it was him."

"So what are you saying?" Chuck asked. Casey leaned back, taking a pull of Johnny Walker.

"We invite her to Team Moron," Casey said. Chuck looked at him, and Casey shrugged. "Okay, Team Bartowski."

A/N: The players are in place…mostly. Let me know, if you hate it, you won't hurt my feelings. Take care…til next time.

DC

#Chuck #Sarah #Charah #fanfic #fanfiction #Casey & Walker

[ofginjxints]

cqnvergent‌:

SHE  ONLY  SPEAKS  OF  her  family  a  few  times.  moving  to  america  meant  starting  a  new  life,  leaving  the  drug  empire  her  family  built  with  sweat  and  blood.  but  it’s  hard  to  avoid  subject  when  getting  to  know  somebody,  especially  when  she’s  falling  for  the  person  in  front  of  her,  mike.  his  denial  only  feels  like  a  bigger  punch  to  the  gut,  causing  lips  to  part  to  let  out  a  dry  laugh,  tilting  her  head  up  as  her  head  shakes.  ❛  not  only  are  you  lying  straight  through  your  teeth,  you’re  going  to  take  me  as  a  fool.  ❜  disbelief  surrounds  her  words,  eyes  closed  for  a  moment  to  think  of  her  next  move.  finally,  her  head  lowers  and  she  looks  at  him  again,  placing  elbows  on  table  in  front  of  her  and  she  leans  forward. ❛  MY  FAMILY  SENDS  SOMEONE  to  meet  me  every  few  months  to  check  in.  he  worries  sometimes,  my  father.  this  time,  i  get  told  about  a  new  rival  here.  whats  was  the  name  .  .  ?  ❜  a  pause  as  she  thinks  before  clicking  her  tongue.  ❛  giovanni  marino.  he  shows  me  a  few  pictures,  of  giovanni  and  people  he’s  around.  imagine  my  surprise  when  i  see  a  photo  of  you.  ❜

His face remained unchanged as she spoke. He wasn’t surprised it all eventually caught up with him. Michael was supposed to get close to Valerie, but he didn’t expect to actually get close to her. 

“So I know Gio, who doesn’t?” He pursed his lips, pulling his best poker face. “I’m not a person of interest if that’s what you’re asking.” And truth be told, he wasn’t. Sure he was juggling both sides but he wasn’t meant to be anything but a source to protect one of his oldest friends. He said he wasn’t going to get involved and he wasn’t.

#ch; michael demarco #thread; michaelxvalerie #cqnvergent

[wanderbitesbybobbie]

ANTIQUE: Misadventures and Cold Springs

Antique (An-ti-ke), that is how you pronounce it. My foreign friends were puzzled when I posted my Antique photos on my Instagram Account and wouldn’t stop asking where in the world I was. “It’s Antique, friends!” It’s a province in the Philippines located in the Western Part of the Visayas Region. It’s not “antique”, the adjective that you use to describe something ancient. It’s AN-TI-KE. Please don’t be confused.

I generally had no idea what I’m putting myself into when I decided to travel to Antique by land from Iloilo. But just as they say, the moments of happiness that we enjoy take us by surprise. On a rainy day, I flew from Manila to Iloilo to visit my good friends, Krizia and Mike. I also had some travel writing business to attend to so it was a two-in-one trip. I always stay with them every time I travel to Iloilo. I am very grateful that they receive me in their home very openly each time. I only had a few days left from my vacation in the Philippines. I was scheduled to go back to Sydney in two weeks, so I promised myself that I would make the most out of the remaining days. I have told Krizia that I wanted to go hiking at Mararison Island to take photos of “Rafflesias“. You know, the huge flowers that eat humans. Just kidding. They eat parasites, but whatever. They are carnivores, and it is fascinating to see some of the species up close and personal. I was very excited to see them. Mike was actually thrilled too, as he is a big fan of things like those, plants, animals, and nature. Both of them are animal and nature-lovers which makes them a very compatible super couple. But during that time, Mike was exceedingly interested to see a Rafflesia in person. So over dinner and a couple of beers, we planned our Antique itinerary. For this trip, I spent my “Day 1” just food-blogging around Iloilo since I was invited by a number of restaurants and cafes prior to my arrival. That night we planned my “Day 2”. We googled everything from transportation to activities, and in a snap, we weren’t going to Mararison anymore. There was a better eco-tourist spot in the middle of a lush tropical rain forest. MALUMPATI COLD SPRINGS.

Photo from TripAdvisor

Oh my gosh! The google images were just so captivating that we have to experience it ourselves. No. Actually, WE NEED TO EXPERIENCE IT OURSELVES. It has become imperative now, it’s not just a whim anymore. That was it, the deciding point! We’re ditching Mararison! The planned itinerary was:

Take the earliest bus to Antique, head straight to Pandan (where Malumpati Cold Springs is located)

Stop by Tibiao on the way back to experience the very intriguing Kawa Hot Bath, maybe get a chance to see a Rafflesia somewhere

Head back to Iloilo before night time.

It’s gonna be a one day trip, so we all settled to go to bed early so we can catch the first bus. Another friend was coming with us. It was the first time I have met Kim that time. He went with us for dinner the night before, and he was a part of the “Day 2 Planning”. Kim is years younger than us. He’s a unicorn (well at least that’s what his Facebook Profile says). He’s in his early twenties and this guy has a very contagious laughter. He’s the type of person that will liven up a very boring classroom. It was just at that night that he have decided to come with us. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, but Kim made everything extra fun – starting from the bus ride.

THE CERES BUS RIDE

If you will google “How to go to Antique from Iloilo”, the first thing that would come up is the Iloilo International Airport. Apparently, Google suggests that the fastest way to Antique is by plane. But, that was not an option for us. We were working on a very limited budget so we all woke up early and proceeded to the Ceres Bus Terminal in Molo. As early as 5:15 AM, we were already out, riding a jeepney from Jaro to Molo to catch the 6:00 AM bus. Based on what we have researched, we would be arriving in Antique by 8:30 to 9:00 AM. We decided to skip shower that morning (we took a shower the night before), since we would be plunging in the cold springs in a matter of two and a half hours anyway. Plus the fact that it was really cold in the crack of dawn. So the three of us were already in the bus, Mike, Krizia, and me. The bus conductor handed over our tickets and reminded us that the bus would be leaving at exactly 6:00 AM. OMG. Kim was still missing in action. We thought he was already at the bus station, but there was no sign of Kim anywhere. Where is he? Is he still asleep? We did not receive any replies via SMS. We kept on calling his mobile, and that was the only time he finally answered. There’s only 5 minutes left, the bus would be leaving, and Kim was running from his house to the bus station. There were no jeepneys in his area, so he was forced to walk (I mean run). The conductor kept on checking up on us and Krizia kept on apologizing in Ilonggo (the dialect in Iloilo). The bus driver started the engine. We were all stressed out so early in the morning. Kim was on loud speaker and he talked to the bus conductor saying that he was only 5 minutes away. We could hear him panting in the background. The driver drove slowly and asked which way was Kim coming from. They explained to us that we cannot wait for him any longer because the bus timetable would be messed up. We cannot be late, otherwise we would be delaying the next bus schedule. OMG. Finally, there was Kim. Running a few meters behind the bus. We started laughing at the mere sight of him struggling to catch the bus with his backpack. He was waving at the bus conductor yelling, “I’m here! I’m here!” in Ilonggo. He was out of breath when he stepped inside the bus. The conductor literally pulled him up from the bus entrance, and all the other passengers started to laugh. Whew! That was a close call. He almost missed the bus!

It was the start of the long bus ride. A ticket to Antique cost us P210 ($7.50 AUD) for a non air-conditioned bus. I chose a window seat to get a hold of some fresh air, and I immediately fell asleep as soon as the bus started running.

In a couple of hours, the bus stopped. I was already feeling the hot breeze on my face, the sun was already up so I was wide awake. It was around 9:00 AM and we have finally arrived in Antique. It was a 3-hour travel. But the thing is, we haven’t arrived at our destination yet. The conductor informed us that it would take another hour before we reach Pandan. We were just stopping by to stretch out a bit and for a quick toilet break. It was the final stop for most of the passengers so there was less than half of the people in the bus. As we headed on, the people in the bus went down one by one until there were only a few left. The bus probably stopped for about 15 times before we finally reached Pandan. It seemed endless. By the time we got there, it was only the 4 of us left inside the bus plus the driver and bus conductor.

IT WASN’T ANOTHER HOUR. IT WAS A TOTAL LIE. It was already around 11:30 AM when we finally reached Pandan Bus Terminal! Like whooooot??? So much for sunbathing at 9! I kept on asking the conductor if we were there yet each time the bus would stop. I probably pissed him off for asking every half hour. I felt so stupid. I was the leader of the pack, how could I miss this part from my google searches? We were just so enticed with the picturesque view of Malumpati Cold Springs, that we just missed that part where it says it’s another 3 freaking hours from the main proper of Tibiao. We were so exhausted from the bus ride. We felt sticky and grouchy from the very humid weather. The sun was glaring at us! Remember, we didn’t take a shower thinking we would be bathing in the Cold Springs by that time. But no. We were in the middle of Pandan Bus Terminal, not knowing where to go next. I took out my phone and started to check out Google Maps to navigate. Signal was on and off. I needed to find a data spot. It sounds like a scene from a thriller movie. No signal + stuck in the middle of somewhere. As soon as my data started working, I instantly turned on my GPS. Good grief!!! Our location pin was at the end of the island, a few minutes away we could already be in Boracay Island. 7 freaking hours of travel by land! We should have just gone to Boracay for goodness sake! What in the world was I thinking? I don’t remember signing up for a 7-hour land travel! Had I known that it would be a laborious travel, I would have pushed through with Mararison. How could this be such an epic fail?

But anyway, Google says it’s another half hour to reach Malumpati Cold Springs. We hailed a tricycle to take us there. We traversed for about 20 minutes. We paid for P50 ($1.5 AUD) per head, so a total of P200 ($6 AUD) for the 4 of us. A signage welcomed us by the entrance.

We paid the entrance fees and to our luck, the road to the cold springs was steep. We all had to get off to help the driver push his tricycle. We were already so pissed at this point. We were so behind our schedule! We were already ranting all the way through, both in Tagalog (Manila dialect) and in Ilonggo. Upon hearing our frustrations, the tricycle driver offered to pick us up for free. It was already past 12 noon and we all agreed to return to the bus terminal at 3:00 PM. You can just imagine how exasperated we were. THE FREAKING LAND TRAVEL WAS LONGER THAN OUR STAY. In the original schedule, we’re supposed to be traveling back to Iloilo by 3:00 PM. But we cannot skip the rest of the itinerary at this point. Not when we’ve traveled a long way already.

MALUMPATI COLD SPRINGS, FINALLY!

Our first look into the cold springs, we were like, “Ito na ‘yun?” (This is it?) We felt like our expectations weren’t met because we traveled all the way from Iloilo just to see what was in front of us. We have all declared IT WAS NOT WORTH IT! The butt-hurts from the long raging hours in the bus, the steep tricycle ride… and this was it? Our point of view has changed however after we settled down, refreshed ourselves, and took another look. All of a sudden, it has become beautiful without any pretenses.

It is true that seeing things from a composed outlook alters everything. I wowed my Instagram followers with a view of the cold springs. Every angle, wherever you look is just invigorating. I badly wanted to jump into the waters as soon as I saw it, but I pacified myself from over-excitement. I have this mentality that if you are too happy, something unlucky would come up next. So calm down! Calm down, Bobbie! The 4 of us decided to have lunch first before we explored the entirety of it.

Since we came in late, we had less to none choices for lunch. We had no right to be picky. There was a small canteen near the life-vest rental shack, and it was the only stall that was open that time. We devoured whatever was left in their food keepers and realized we could have saved a lot more by bringing our packed lunch if we had planned this better. Our 7-hour travel made us really hungry. We haven’t had anything since we woke up at 5:00 AM.

This happens to be our view as a compensation for all the inconvenience. Since we came on a weekday, we had the place to ourselves. Krizia had to warn me every now and then to be careful with places like this. I am a very inquisitive person. Every time I go somewhere, the “travel journalist” in me automatically comes out. But on this particular trip, I was careful. We were visitors, and we don’t know the people (and the creatures) that reside in the place. There are a lot of mythical stories in this part of the country, it is best not to stare at people and mind your own business. The cold springs might be enchanted by some fairy spirits or something. I’m sorry, I did not mean to spook you or creep you out in any way. I am not a believer of myths myself. They are called myths for a reason. But it’s always better safe than sorry.

The 16-feet pristine spring water is very inviting. It looks like a natural pool with trees and wooden bridges on the facade. Aside from swimming, there are other activities that can be enjoyed in Malumpati Cold Springs. You can go “water tubing”, where you ride the inner tube of a rubber tire and steer your way through the gushing waters on the other side of the springs. A guide will help you navigate. It’s like wild water rafting, but it’s not as wild. There’s also rappelling, zip-lining, and trekking, of course every activity has a price.

RAPPEL: P50 ($1.50 AUD)

TREKKING WITH GUIDE: P150-P200 ($5-6 AUD)

ZIPLINE: P200 ($6 AUD)

WATER TUBING: P200 ($6 AUD)

We just decided to rent a rubber tube without fully experiencing water tubing. We had very limited time, as we still planned to push through with our intended itinerary despite the fact that we were already so behind schedule.

We didn’t have any other choice anyway. We were already there. What else could we do but to jump into the turquoise waters and enjoy the view. I even brought my favorite goggles with me and the funny part is… I LOST IT THERE! It was just a pair of goggles, I know. But a little mishap like that, added to all the other misfortunes we went through just to get there ignited our belief that the day of this misdaventure just doesn’t end there.

TO BE CONTINUED…

HAVE YOU BEEN TO ANTIQUE?

WHERE EXACTLY DID YOU GO?

HOW WAS YOUR EXPERIENCE?

I’D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU!

ANTIQUE: Misadventures and Cold Springs was originally published on WanderBitesByBobbie

[junker-town]

A rift in the space-time continuum informed us City wins the Premier League again

Bad news, City wins the Premier League again.

We don’t know quite how it happened. As is traditional, there was a storm. Then lightning struck somewhere nearby. A power surge. A moment of darkness. And then, as the lights blinked back on and we all confirmed we were still alive, it appeared on our computer screens: “Premier League 2019-20 in review.”

The Race for the Title

Ultimately, a bit anticlimactic. A 5-0 thrashing of Spurs in August, victory at Anfield in November, title race settled. Manchester City’s 104 points is a Premier League record, but their season will probably be best remembered for the stunning stoppage time defeat to Leicester that kept them from finishing the season as invincibles. And of course, Shoegate.

The race to finish second was a bit more interesting. If you had asked a Tottenham supporter five years ago if they would take a season in which they finished second-place in every competition, they’d have said yes, but reality stings worse than anyone could have imagined. The League Cup defeat to Manchester United hardly registered as a disappointment, and City were always going to run away with the Premiership; keeping Liverpool at bay is basically a trophy, right?

That FA Cup collapse against United, though. Their capitulation in the Champions League final against PSG. Those games were the stuff that nightmares are made of. Hug a Tottenham fan today.

As for Liverpool, well: last season they finished second by one point; this season they finished third by eight. Last season they won the Champions League; this season they were knocked out in the semi-finals. You could call it failure if you wanted to. But in truth, the standards at the top of professional football are so ludicrous that, frankly, all “failure” really means here is “didn’t quite nail perfection, again.” Although losing to Manchester United in such carnivalesque fashion will presumably sting a little. Who knew Harry Maguire could do that? Well, Spurs did.

The Race for Europe

As with last season, the scrap for the remaining Champions League places was the really thrilling adventure, and we have just two words here: Brendan Rodgers. Brendan Rodgers. No man has ever so entirely got back on his bullshit. Forty goals for Jamie Vardy. At least one team talk delivered entirely nude. Twenty for Ayoze Perez. That photo shoot. That other photo shoot. Youri Tielemans, player of the season. Stealing Pep Guardiola’s shoes. Wearing Pep Guardiola’s shoes. A week in prison. A prison escape. And all the rest.

Leicester’s glory was Chelsea’s loss, though it was interesting to see how the fans coped with having a manager they couldn’t really boo. The more creative among them upgraded their A4 protest signs to A3, and even occasionally A2, the better to allow space for the various caveats their outrage required. On the pitch, meanwhile, things went roughly as might be expected: some of the kids were okay, Christian Pulisic looked excellent until his unfortunate injury, and Lampard’s getting another season regardless.

Everton hasn’t finished above Liverpool for a long time, but this season they did at least manage to outscore their dominant neighbours. The front three of Kean, Richarlison and Iwobi looked even better on the pitch than it did on paper, and Everton spent all season terrorising even the finest defences. And who knows, if they could find a half-decent one of their own, they might end up back in the argument proper.

We’re less optimistic about Arsenal, who were slick, pretty, occasionally thrilling, and had a spine made of candy floss and dreams and wishes. A cynic might suspect that we wrote this review of Arsenal’s season before they’d even kicked off, but we’d be safe, because how could you ever prove it?

The Race for the Middle of the Table

Set up for success by a stunningly competent summer, the Hammers finished a respectable eighth, their best finish in four years. Sebastian Haller and Pablo Fornals turned in outstanding campaigns, but the real story was Jack Wilshere, who defied the odds to start in all 38 matches.

This also marks the first time in Premier League history that West Ham have finished above Manchester United, though the Old Trafford faithful don’t seem too concerned. ”WE LOVE YOU SLABHEAD, WE DO,” echoed around the league all season, as the fans paid tribute to their captain Harry Maguire: rock in defense, set piece scoring maestro, and star of the League and FA Cup finals. His signing was a revelation, a true bargain at £80 million. This league finish is a mere bump in the road for the Red Devils; with Maguire and new manager Michael Carrick leading the side, United’s future is bright.

Despite being stretched thin by Europe, Nuno Espirito Santo’s squad turned in another solid Premier League campaign to finish tenth, but it’s unclear how sustainable the Wolves project is. With superagent Jorge Mendes’ shock announcement that he’s quitting the football business to live in a Tibetan monastery, and taking Rui Patrício with him, there are huge questions about the future makeup of the squad at Molineux.

No one was talking about Southampton before the season, but it turns out that a man who finished second in the Bundesliga with RB Leipzig can coach. Ralph Hasenhüttl appears to be building a solid foundation for the future with Che Adams’ solid campaign and the debut of three new academy products. Also, Watford has a Premier League team. Each week, they fielded 11 professional footballers, and they played football well enough to not get sucked into a relegation battle. For that, they should be applauded.

Finally, you know that season Bournemouth have? The one where they start okay, then look like they might be in a bit of trouble, then win five on the bounce including a 4-0 over, idk, Chelsea, then end up in the lower mid-table? Yeah, that happened again.

The Race to Stay in the League

The best of the rest: Aston Villa, who finished in an ultimately comfortable 14th. Heaton & Mings may sound like the consequences of leaving a salmon behind a radiator, but it turns out they are also a decent basis for a solid Premier League defence. Nobody tell Everton.

They were joined in assured safety by Burnley, and while plenty predicted they’d survive again, nobody saw the method coming. Nobody predicted that Sean Dyche would, while on a mini-break in the Dordogne, consume a piece of cheese so strong that it induced a hallucinogenic episode; that the voice of God would speak to him as he writhed in psychedelic delirium; that God would tell him to start playing delicate attacking football and to reinvent James Tarkowski as a no. 10; and that all this would kind of work? Best of luck to Tarkowski at the Camp Nou.

Never has a team felt more “just there” than Sheffield United. Nondescript. Unfussy. Quietly scraped some 1-1 draws against top-half teams and finished on 41 points. Good for them! Crystal Palace’s survival was less assured: it turns out that selling your best defender and annoying your best attacker in the same window can put a club in a bit of a spot.

However, the vagaries of the season conspired to do Palace a massive favour: if the title race had been alive in the final week, Spurs might have picked a full-strength team, and Palace would have been in trouble. But the race was run, and those members of the Spurs squad that weren’t actually on holiday were certainly trying to remember where they’d left their passport. One Gary Cahill hat-trick later, and Palace were safe.

The Race to Get Back to the Championship

It’s sad that such a promising young Norwich side is about to be gutted. The Canaries finished one point from safety while playing ambitious attacking football, but they’ll be entering the Championship with a completely different squad. Offers are already pouring in for Max Aarons, Jamal Lewis, Ben Godfrey and Emi Buendia. How will Norwich rebuild with £100 million-plus in the bank?

Also looking to come straight back will be Brighton, and though the steady rise of Graham Potter has encountered its first serious stumble, in truth, neither he nor any of Brighton’s players need to take particular blame. Sometimes it seems that the Premier League itself gets tired of certain smaller teams, as though snobbery and elitism are embedded in the very bones of the competition. We can think of no other explanation for a side scoring sixteen own goals in consecutive games.

And finally, that Steve Bruce, he’s a proper football man. Don’t blame this on him. None of this is his fault. His 3-4-3 diamond with Miguel Almiron at the libero was genius. Imagine if Mike Ashley backed him in the transfer market and bought the players to fit his system? Newcastle would have been pushing for Europa League instead of finishing bottom by thirteen points.

We’ve doubled checked with SB Nation’s Experimental Quantum Physics department and they tell us that, as far as they can tell, it’s genuine. So there you go. The future. Or at least, one future. Maybe this one, maybe not. Maybe the very act of reading it is enough to destroy it. We don’t know for sure. The EQP’s emails tend to run on a bit.

[michaelriggsphotography]

Another Year Another Trip to France

Sunday, May 26 2019

If you think we pitifully wait around all year longing for our next trip to France, you might be closer to truth than I want to admit.  So imagine our excitement today as we have finally reached the day when we head out again to our most beloved destination.  This year, we are staying in Cannes.  It’s a new area for us and sure to be very different from other trips but there is little doubt that it will be as restorative and satisfying as all the others.

Travel began exactly 20 hours before our expected arrival when our car arrived to take us to the train.  We considered calling Uber but decided to call Brian instead.  He’s a very good driver and dropped us just in time for Mike to run down the stairs with two suitcases in hand as the train pulled into the station.  It’s Memorial Day weekend and there are so many travelers.  Fortunately, our Pre-Check boarding passes led us to a long but a much less long line to security.

The first leg of our trip takes us to JFK with a rather lengthy layover before heading out to Nice.  One flight is done and we are comfortably ensconced in the American Express lounge passing time by giving you too many details of the first few hours of the day.  

With any luck our next and much longer flight will pair us with travelers who are not so happy to share their personal music with everyone nearby.  Then there is the man who was in front of us having a private Rave all alone in his seat!  Don’t even get us started with that one

After sitting on the runway at JFK for about 45 minutes we finally were headed to Cannes.

The long layover at JFK was made nicer by the good conversation we shared with nearby travelers from Birmingham who are on their way to a tour of the Holy Land.  It’s so nice to just meet nice people wherever you go.

Sooooo many hours later we are ending our first “day” here.  Thankful for safe travel and easy connections with a bus and walking to our apartment, we have really landed and are ready to start exploring.  The buzz of the Cannes Film Festival remains the day after as vendors and visitors linger to enjoy the atmosphere.  

I sure hope we get to do some street fashion photography because there is definitely a lot to see.  Maybe on my next visit I’ll actually be dressed for the red carpet but I just couldn’t resist even in my travel clothes.

Cannes is very different from the places we usually stay but we think the difference will be nice.  That doesn’t mean we will take advantage of the fact that there is a Steak and Shake and Kentucky Fried Chicken nearby!  We walked through a good bit of the main area near the beach today and really enjoyed the sights until we both hit the exhausted wall about 4 o’clock this afternoon.  We were even too tired to eat dinner in a restaurant so we went back to the apartment to snack on some things we purchased earlier “just in case”.  

If I can stay awake for about an hour longer, we will be racing to get through the shower and into bed.  Can’t wait for a fresh day tomorrow to explore the beautiful sights around the area. If the atmosphere on our patio is any indication, we won’t be disappointed.  The breeze is crisp and the scent of jasmine perfumes the air.  This will be a regular spot for us every day, I’m sure.

To see all the photos from the trip click the link below.  If you have been keeping up with the photos just scroll to the last page of images and work your way back to where you have seen.

https://elliiottsstudio.zenfolio.com/p521767506

[animalsoffarmsanctuary]

One Man’s Trash Is in Fact a Beautiful Treasure: Cattle Left for Dead Find Sanctuary

A supporter of Farm Sanctuary recently reached out to us regarding 10 cattle who were the victims of cruelty and neglect in Chester County, PA. Nine calves had died in a barn, and the remaining 10 cattle in the building were being removed. 

And this horrific scene was not on a large industrial farm, but instead at a “hobby farm” where they used the Ayrshire cattle for show, and had other cattle and horses as well. The farm owner and his family had taken the cows to fairs, where they were paraded in front of judges, and received prizes. As is often the case, no one knew how dire the situation was behind the scenes.

Another victim was this young gelding who was found skeletal, with leg and tendon issues and severely overgrown hooves. He was so tiny that they assumed he was a few months old, but the vet confirmed that he was in fact over a year. He remains with his rescuers from LAPS.

Thankfully, the Large Animal Protection Society (LAPS), an all-volunteer organization in Pennsylvania with investigative authority, learned of the cattle through the police, along with another Pennsylvania group, Helping Hands for Animals. They had responded to a complaint from a good Samaritan about a dead horse seen in a pasture. Thankfully, the horse turned out to be sleeping — but the complaint launched an investigation into the cruel and neglectful practices taking place in the idyllic Pennsylvania countryside.

And when investigators got there, what they found was not valued, prize-winning cattle, but instead 19 bovines in a barn with mud and feces so deep that nine calves appeared to have literally drowned in the muck. 

Photos like these came in and like so many places we have gone before, these animals were forced to live in conditions unfit for any being. 

Once we saw the photos, we couldn’t believe the conditions these animals had come from and knew that we could really help take these animals — once treated as trash — and allow them to be the true treasures that they are.  

The corpses of the dead babies buried so deep that it was hard to see what was feces and what was actually the body of another calf. 

We will start with the babies, each just a few weeks old. Only three of 12 calves survived. One surviving bull calf — a little Holstein whom the farmer had purchased from auction just a few weeks before — was found snuggling up to a deceased calf for comfort. Likely a dairy baby, he had already been separated from his mother and shipped to auction, only to be forced into another cruel environment.

Our sweet boy leans against the body of a deceased calf surrounded by other calves who perished in the muck.  

The first layers of muck removed, this tiny little Holstein calf is out of the darkness.  

Two other calves who also had supposedly been recent purchases looked more like Ayrshire crosses (after their showers). They also look like siblings, one male and one female, and they huddled closely together after their rescue — they are an inseparable pair. All three calves were so covered in feces they looked like they had been dipped in it. 

It is impossible to believe that these are two mostly white calves under all that filth. These two remain at the Nemo Farm Animal Hospital at Cornell University, and once they are vetted, they will mooooove to their new home at Skylands Animal Sanctuary & Rescue. 

Brother and sister showered and feeling much better, and clearly feeling loved and seen for the first time by the amazing folks at LAPS.  

The other cattle in the barn were older and able to withstand the conditions they were forced to live in. The other survivors included a year-old bull, two adult female cows, and four 1-year-old females. We are awaiting results of testing to see if anyone is pregnant and, if so, how far along — although we know that one of the older females is definitely months into her pregnancy. 

All showered and recovering, the family clings to each other. So hard to believe that just days before, they were living in the barn pictured in the photos toward the top of this post.  

Although the farmer claimed that he wasn’t sure how the cattle had been closed inside the barn, and that they couldn’t have been in there for more than three days, it was evident that they had been confined much, much longer than that. There was 2-3 feet of wet muck and feces all through the barn, even deeper in some areas.  

I call this girl the Announcer, since she is our big talker. It’s so hard to imagine how she was feeling when this photo was taken — just out of the barn and starting to be cleaned up. 

Gates were stuck in place because the manure was so deep. The smell was unimaginable. Fortunately, the farmer agreed to surrender the 10 cattle, though, shockingly, he was permitted to keep many more animals who were found outside of the barn. Charges have been filed against him, including failure to provide veterinary care and failure to provide sanitary conditions to his animals.

First week at Farm Sanctuary and a lot of brushing to get the last of the dirty off them. These girls are starting to settle in. Notice that the Announcer is announcing her excitement. 

And last week, it was time for these cattle to leave the protective setting of LAPS, and move on to the next stages of their journey. Mike Stura from Skylands and Kevin Weil, Jim Dumbleton, and Amy Gaetz from Farm Sanctuary’s Watkins Glen team picked up the 10 survivors. 

Moving like a wave, this still-too-skinny group of girls has a long way to go to get over their past, but we are so happy that they are starting their new chapter with us. 

Skylands will be keeping the two twin calves and the feisty year-old bull, but also helped transport two of the yearlings. (Our two very large trailers were full, since we had also brought gates to help load the cattle from the field where they were grazing.) The Holstein calf will also be coming back to Watkins Glen this week. He was also dropped off at Cornell, since he still is quite lethargic and quiet for a calf. 

The four young girls, each around a year old, are slowly — and I mean slowly — learning to trust people again.  

Because of the generosity and compassion of members of Farm Sanctuary’s Farm Animal Adoption Network (FAAN), homes for the four yearling girls and the Holstein calf have been secured. Before traveling to their new homes, however, they have a few more medical needs to attend to.  

I don’t think a face could be cuter. One of the yearlings and quite the darling. I cannot wait to name these girls. (We like to really get to know them before that happens.)

The little Holstein is still dealing with a very tough case of pneumonia, which is concerning, and he is a bit bloated, but hopefully all of these issues will resolve quickly. We also have a lot of GI issues to look into, but again we are hopeful that everyone will make a full recovery. We will continue to update our amazing members, who make all of our rescue efforts possible!

Loving the wide open spaces of our Watkins Glen sanctuary.  

So now here in Watkins Glen, we have six beautiful girls who are trying very hard to adjust to their new surroundings. We are learning each of their personalities and where they fit into this amazing little herd. And although they will never be show cattle, they have something much more valuable than ribbons and trophies: They have love, respect, security, and care. They are individuals.

Our new friends running on pasture.

Anytime an animal (even a human animal) is seen as a commodity that can bring financial gain to another, they are seen as being worth just what that gain is. They are not seen as beings — as someones — but as things. And no matter their financial value, a thing is still a thing, and can easily be discarded. 

The bravest is always the one to make sure the photographer is on the up and up. Paparazzi beware.  

Being seen as someone means that you are priceless to those who love you, and these beautiful cattle are now each someone — not something. And we are all feeling very blessed that they are safe and sound, and we have the honor to get to know them for the precious gifts that they are. 

Family — loved — cherished — priceless. They are all someone!

#cows #animals #animal rescue #animal rights #vegan #new york shelter #new arrivals #farm animal adoption network #skylands animal sanctuary and rescue #large animal protection society