#it MIGHT be that my laptop is dyin and sai is the only one that runs correctly tho asgdh

[stoopidstapler]

Hey there!!! If you don't mind, I was curious what program you use to draw? Absolutely loving your work by the way, keep drawing my friend

HOWDY!! oh, i use paint tool sai 2! ive tried other drawing apps but i never last more than a day with them 😭

also thank u so much pal!! i'll certainly try to 🥺

#sai runs so smoothly nothin compares to it #it MIGHT be that my laptop is dyin and sai is the only one that runs correctly tho asgdh #STILL. #anythin else is SO laggy... sad face #ALSO KEEP DRAWIN TOO. if u do. it sounds like u do. or might start 👀 #sorry im chatty today #anyone reading this hope you have a good week

[inkribbon796]

Lost in a Lightning Storm Ch. 2: Far from Home

Summary: You shouldn’t talk about people, and not expect them to find out.

Chapters: 1, 2

While Henrik and Anti were talking to Tubbo and Logan, and then subsequently went off to Nate’s house to do some research, Mare went to go find Anti.

Anti was cackling with the Duke on some rooftop, who had escaped arrest after the chaos he had created. The two chaos-loving criminals were laughing and joking.

“Anti! Your boyfriend is getting too brave, you gotta[1] do something!” Mare said as he leaned over a massive air conditioning unit to get into the glitch’s face. Anti was lying on his back on the rooftop.

“Ooooooohhh~ You have a boyfriend?” Remus gave a huge smile, turning on his stomach and kicking his feet up like they were a bunch of pre-teens at a slumber party. “And you didn’t tell your best friend? For shame.”

“Shut up,” Anti kicked him in the face. Then he turned back to Mare. “I don’t got[2] a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah, then what the hell is he?” Mare bit back.

“None ‘a yer fookin’ business,”[3] Anti spat back.

“M’kay,[4] whatever,” Mare rolled his eyes. “Point is, he’s trying to find you.”

“I’m right here, let ‘im[5],” Anti scoffed, still lying on the ground.

“No, the old you, the human one,” Mare warned.

“Why?” Anti spat.

“I don’t know, humans are dumb,” Mare spat. “He’s your problem, you deal with him.”

“Fook[6] you!” Anti spat and stormed off.

Directly after he stormed off, he realized that he hadn’t asked Mare where Henrik was. But it was too late to storm off. Mostly because he overheard Remus trying to weedle information out of Mare. Anti was too in his own head to admit to even himself that he was embarrassed.

So he went out to find Henrik. Except he wasn’t at the hospital . . . and Logan didn’t seem to know where he was. He wasn’t at the hospital either so Anti ran around for a little bit and found them in Nate’s house.

For a couple moments, Anti debated on how upset Mare would be if he barged into his territory. Then he figured that if Mare didn’t want him to trespass, he shouldn’t have told him to take care of Henrik . . . and Anti had been in Nate’s house before on multiple occasions.

So Anti tripped about three alarms to get into the house and Nate and Henrik watched him stroll right into the living room where they were.

“Don’t yeh[7] two know not ta[8] talk about someone behind their back?” Anti layered on the glitching and blood as much as he could.

“You are certainly getting better at zat[9] effect,” Henrik complimented.

“You bleed on my carpet and I will stab you with a soul splitter,” Nate threatened.

Anti pulled out his knife, completely offended that they weren’t screaming in terror.

Nate helped up a stake, the wood was etched with runes and spell writing. “Anti, I don’t want to explain to the rest of your friends why you’re in pieces.”

“Why the fook are yeh diggin’ inta my personal shite?”[10] Anti demanded.

“Because zer is much I do not know about you, und I vish to correct zat,”[11] Henrik told him, Nate was on his computer, still looking through old census records and newspaper reports.

“I’m right the fook[6] here,” Anti spat.

“I cannot recall a time ven ve have ever talked about any’zing,”[12] Henrik told Anti pointedly.

Anti glared at him, his nose scrunched up like the demon was about to pull his lips back in a snarl. “Why, though? No point in lookin’[13] fer[14] a dead man.”

Henrik stood up, really studying Anti’s expression, “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

Anti sputtered for a moment, “I don’t care.”

“I am serious Anti, if all zis[15] investigation makes you uncomfortable or vas[16] a traumatic experience, I vill[17] stop.”

A myriad of uncomfortable feelings, that Anti refused to unpack or acknowledge, prickled under his skin and boiled his blood. He absolutely refused to be afraid of some past specter he could barely remember. Anti was better than some human who’s only contribution to the world had been dying so that Anti could be brought into the world.

So instead Anti just scoffed, some derisive, forced laugh, “Whate’er yeh two arses wanna dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor ‘a dyin’, go ahead. Here, I’ll e’en help.”[18]

Henrik watched for any sign that Anti was joking or would destroy Nate’s computer. “If you are certain.”

“Oh yeah,” Anti dismissed. “What did yeh shitebags find?”[19]

“Well,” Nate stalled as he watched Anti walk over, he stayed braced with his stake. “Don’t break my stuff.”

“I won’t,” Anti smiled. “Come on, we got some loser ta[8] find.”

“That “loser” is also a past version of you,” Nate pointedly reminded.

“Watch it, meatbag,” Anti warned. “If he wanted ta[8] stay alive, he shouldn’ta[20] died.”

“Eloquent,” Henrik commented.

“Shut,” Anti hissed back.

“Do you remember your country of origin?” Nate asked. “I’ve got several different deaths from lightning storms and factory accidents from the past 150—”

“I ne’er[21] worked in a factory,” Anti huffed, before mentally stalling because he couldn’t remember how he knew that, just that he did.

“Really?” Nate commented without even blinking. “That helps narrow it down. Means you only could have died from lightning if you’re as old as Mare says you are.”

“Mare needs ta[8] learn ta[8] keep his trap shut,” Anti scoffed.

“You were right there when he told me that, and you didn’t say anything,” Nate reminded.

Anti looked away from him, “I don’t remember this, it didn’t happen.”

“Anyways, do you remember where you came from?” Nate turned back to his computer. “I know the Septics first met you in Ireland, but are you from there too?”

“Been ta a lot ‘a places,”[22] Anti shrugged. “How am I supposed ta[8] know?”

“Well it vould[23] make it easier,” Henrik reminded.

Anti rolled his eyes, “I woke up in Australia. I hitched a ride on several hosts until I got ta[8] Ireland. I don’t know if I died there, my first ten years were a blur.”

“You are Australian?” Henrik was staring at Anti.

“No.” Hunching his shoulders up defensively, Anti glared at the doctor, “Maybe? I can’t remember. What’s it ta[8] yah[7]?”

“No, it’s not a bad thing,” Henrik rushed to say. “I just . . . it is a good thing.”

Nate and Anti just stared at him, neither of them sure which direction to take that comment, but Henrik wasn’t looking Anti in the eyes anymore. He was glancing at Anti though, a lot.

But with a country narrowed down, Nate was able to eliminate several different possible candidates. Until there were five people left, four men and one woman. Mostly because it wasn’t unheard of for gender changes to occur when a human became a demon.

“Okay,” Nate said. “We have: Caleb Carson, Hannah Laverty, Brendan O’Heyne, Angus Collins, and Joe Morrin. Does anyone sound familiar, I don’t see any pictures so . . .”

Anti’s brain felt clouded, like there was something wrong but he couldn’t place it. He felt the urge to stab something and run. Like he was in danger.

“Anti? Are you alright?” Henrik asked, there was a look on Anti’s face that the German doctor hadn’t seen on him before.

Anti’s attention drifted towards one of the names in particular. He had no memories left of that person.

Much of that person was gone now, eroded away by time, but snippets remained. Being arrested for something . . . feeling disgusting inside afterwards . . .

. . . Feeling sick as the boat wouldn’t stop shaking the world around him . . .

. . . The heat of the sun burning his skin, almost hot as the anger that burned inside of him . . .

. . . And then a deafening CRACK as he felt like his body was exploding with pain. And how they’d just . . .

“They left me there,” Anti remembered, his form glitching erratically. “They left my fookin’[24] corpse ta[8] rot!”

“Anti‽” Henrik called out but the two humans watched Anti violently shatter apart in a discorporation.

Nate surged up immediately and took out an amulet necklace. One he had once’s a while ago to safely carry Mare around. But he used his magic to scoop up as much of Anti’s aura as possible to keep him from fracturing.

“Vat[25] happened?” Henrik demanded.

“He must have remembered something,” Nate tried to calm Henrik down as he was casting spells to see how violent the discorporation was, “I don’t think it was a good thing.”

Henrik snatched the necklace away, looking at it. “Vill[17] he be alright?”

“He still seems to be in one piece, but it might take a while for him to reform,” Nate warned.

“I zink ve should stop,”[26] Henrik looked over at Nate’s laptop. “If I had known his reaction vould have been zis violent I vould have stopped ven he confronted us.”[27]

“Yeah,” Nate agreed and watched Henrik put the necklace on. “Be careful with him, an injured demon’s a more dangerous one.”

“I vill[17],” Henrik promised, and gathered up his stuff with a stiff thank you for Nate’s help and the doctor went over to his apartment with the necklace. Anti took a couple of days to reform, but he didn’t talk to Henrik. The demon would escape the necklace and then slip back in whenever Henrik was distracted or busy.

After almost a week since the incident at Nate’s house, Henrik decided that, if Anti wasn’t going to talk to him, Henrik would talk to Anti. He started out small, complaining about the coffee machine at the hospital, about how muggy the weather was.

Then, one night, while Henrik was sitting on his couch, watching some TV show, or at least had it on in the background while he was staring down at the necklace in his hands, the doctor decided to be a bit more blunt. He watched the gem, saw almost like glitchy lightning crackling underneath the surface. “I must admit, part of ze[28] reason I went digging vas[16] to get a reaction out of you.”

There was a pause to the energy in the necklace. But after a bit the glitched lightning continued as if nothing had happened.

“If you do not vant to talk about zis matter, I vill not force you,”[29] Henrik told him. “But I had hoped to get a violent reaction out of you, not to actually harm you. For zat[9] I am sorry.”

Anti’s aura shot out of the necklace was just staring at Henrik. “Why was that what yeh were goin’ fer?”[30]

“You have tried to kill me und[31] my friends many times, und[31] I vanted[32] to get you to attack me,” Henrik admitted.

“Why?” Anti scoffed, plopping down on Henrik’s couch. “If I wanted yeh[7] dead, I would’a[33] done it already.”

He took glared at him. “Zat[9] is exactly the problem, you have zis[15] odd stalking infatuation but you have tried to kill me in the past. Not to mention you utterly ruined Average’s marriage und[31] his ability to visit his children.”

“The fooker was gettin’ cucked an’ e’eryone knew it,”[34] Anti dismissed.

“She vas doin’ no’zing of ze sort,”[35] Henrik defended heatedly.

Anti looked away angrily.

The two sat in angry silence for a little while, before Henrik sighed, taking off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose before carefully putting them back on. “Anti, vat do you vant out of zese interactions ve have?”[36]

The glitch demon decided he would rather talk about literally anything else, but his only other option was talking about his former human life and he wasn’t sure which made him look worse. “I like it when yeh[7] get angry at me.”

“Is it simply ze[28] anger or ze[28] attention?” Henrik asked, genuinely trying to understand.

Anti still wasn’t looking at him, deciding that he’d rather take the human talk. “My name used ta[8] be somethin’[37] else.”

“Vich[38] do you prefer?” Henrik asked.

“Anti,” Anti told him hesitantly.

“Zen[39] you are Anti,” Henrik agreed. “As you said, zat[9] man is dead, und[31] you are here.”

Something in Anti’s chest tightened, he didn’t like it. He didn’t like even the reminder that he was human. But he started leaning over towards Henrik. It was just a little bit of a lean, not enough to even get near Henrik. So the doctor closed the distance for him, lightly resting his shoulder against Anti’s.

“I zink zat you like the attention, vich I am more zen happy to give to you,”[40] Henrik smiled at him as Anti still refused to hold eye contact with him. “Und ven you know vat you vant, you can tell me in your own time.”[41]

For the rest of the night the two of them sat in almost near silence. Anti wasn’t ready to admit anything, but still tantalizingly close all the same. Anti getting closer and close to Henrik until the doctor was pressed up against the side of the couch and Anti was leaning against him. Anti sat next to Henrik as the doctor just ran his fingers through his hair. Anymore and Anti would have started hissing and pulling away. But as he leaned into the touch the glitch decided that he liked this attention.

Henrik occasionally looked over at Anti, smiling at him.

And if, as he scratched his fingers across his scalp, heard him give out very quiet purring sounds, the doctor decided not to tease the glitch demon about them . . . at least not yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Post A/N: Anti in his AU used to be a man by the name of Angus (Jack’s “survivalist” character he made super early in his channel and in this AU Angus was arrested and sent to Australia where he subsequently died from a freak lightning storm, and then cue villain arc.

Side note: Henrik likes Anti’s Australian accent, he likes it a lot! No I will not back down from this extremely unpopular headcanon.

Accessibility Translations:

1. have to

2. have

3. None of your fucking business

4. Okay

5. him

6. Fuck

7. you

8. to

9. that

10. Why the fuck are you digging into my personal shit?

11. Because there is much I don’t know about you, and I wish to correct that

12. I can’t recall a time when we have ever talked about anything

13. looking

14. for

15. this

16. was

17. will

18. Whatever you two assholes want to dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor of dying, go ahead. Here, I’ll even help.

19. What did you shitbags find?

20. shouldn’t have

21. never

22. I’ve been to a lot of places

23. would

24. fucking

25. What

26. I think we should stop

27. If I had known his reaction would have been this violent I would have stopped when he confronted us.

28. the

29. If you do not want to talk about this matter, I will not force you

30. Why was that what you were going for?

31. and

32. wanted

33. would have

34. The fucker was getting cucked and everyone knew it

35. She was doing nothing of the sort

36. Anti, what do you want out of these interactions we have?

37: something

38. which

39. then

40. I think that you like the attention, which I am more then happy to give to you

41. And when you know what you want, you can tell me in your own time.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #birthday post #footnotes #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #Nathan Sharp #Antistein #Doctor Glitch #Anti trying desperately to run away from his emotions #finally some relationship progress #Anti's just a scraggly alley cat that doesn't know how to get a home #Anti has feels #angst and feels

[anothers-trash-my-treasure]

Bittersweet ~ Chapter Eight

If I was naming chapters, this one would be titled “Near or Far” and that’s all I’m gonna say. 

Last official chapter, an epilogue will be on its way and honestly, I might write a few side chapters sometime too because I just love this story so much. Enjoy!

Pairing: Merriell Shelton/Reader (femme)

Warning: swearing, some angst and long-distance troubles but mostly just fluff

Word count: 4000

Tag List: @ahkmenrami1205 @itsme690 @xoa-lex @ramibaby @r-ahh-mi @xmxisxforxmaybe @sherlollydramoine @txml @moon-stars-soul @ramimedley @sassystrawberryk 

*he’s so pretty i wanna cry*

~

Long-distance is hard.

God, it’s the fucking worst. 

In some ways, it was very much the same from normal. I wake up, eat breakfast, go to my classes. I spend all day on campus, reading and studying only to leave for my job. I’d waitress all night, grab something to eat at the end of a shift, go home, watch a few episodes of Friends (even though I’ve seen it a thousand times) and head off to bed before repeating it all over again. 

But then, on the other hand, it was so different.

Because I’d wake up to the standard Mornin’ Beautiful, have a good day. I’d spend all day looking at my phone and laughing at the constant stream of goofy snapchats, annoying everyone around me in the otherwise silent part of the library. I’d get a phone call at 10 o’clock sharp every night as I made way back to my apartment that would switch over to a facetime as soon as I was settled on the couch, Netflix on the TV and the love of my life’s face stretched across my computer screen, pixelated and laggy due to crappy wifi. 

And every minute spent communicating in any way possible was simultaneously wonderful and heartbreaking. The technology of the present day made it so easy to hear his voice and to see him. But it was the worst thing in the world when I couldn’t come home from a long day and cuddle up with him on the couch or wake up with his arms around me. Technology couldn’t replicate touch. And it fucking sucked.

Someday’s we were both too busy to even get more than a few texts out to each other throughout the week. He was so busy at work and University kept me on my toes at all times. I was constantly writing essays, studying content or writing notes for 40-page readings that half the time the professor didn’t even attempt to cover. 

We tried to be patient with each other. I knew he was working double shifts, they were short-staffed at the lumber yard and he was always talking about taking a week off to come visit me once he had enough saved up. He knew I was just as busy. But sometimes we just got agitated, so fed up with how hard it was to be away from each other that we had to lash if we wanted to keep our rule of total and utter honesty. 

But we always worked things out in the end. Even if presently things were a little tense. 

“Hey baby,” his voice rang through my headphones as I made my way to my next class.

“Hi Mer,” I replied, no doubt looking like an idiot as I smiled to no one.

“Whatcha doin?” He asked, his voice resembling that of a bored child. I knew he had the day off today, they were few and far between. Usually, they landed on a weekend, when we could spend the whole day on facetime, syncing up movies to watch together and enjoying what company we could get out of a computer screen.

“I am currently rushing to my Marketing class,” I say smiling politely at someone who holds the door for me, “which I am currently late for because I lost track of time in the library trying to finish an essay for my next class.”

He whistles lowly, “Busy girl.” he comments and I can hear a familiar tone in his voice. It’s lower than usual, huskier and warm around the edges. Any other time it’d send a rush of heat through me and I’d be finding the nearest private bathroom to indulge in a bit of phone sex but today I was simply too busy.

“Merriell-” I start to warn but he barrels through, completely ignoring me.

“So what'dya say? Wanna be a few more minutes late an’ be a little bad with me?” his tone is teasing, breathy and light.

“You know I can’t.” I huff at him, “The midterm for this class is next week, I really don’t have time to get you off right now.” I wince a little at the tone of my voice, but as I near my class I can’t find it in myself to feel guilty about being short with him.

“Babe,” he whines, “C’mon we haven’t done anything in like a week, I’m dyin’.”

“You’re not.” I deadpan, “Mer, I’m really sorry. I’ll try to make some time this weekend but midterms are coming up and-”

“I know, I know.” he sighs, “You gotta study.” 

It’s silent as I stand outside my classroom, not wanting to leave things with this kind of tension but knowing if I don’t head into lecture I will surely pay the consequences.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly, “I gotta go, I love you.”

“Near or far baby.” he replies and despite the tension I know he’s got a smile on his face 

~

The rest of the week carries out more or less the same way. He calls and I’m busy, we hang up and I’m left feeling guilty. But University is demanding and it won’t let me stray away long enough to talk to him for more than ten minutes at a time. I try to compromise, face timing him while I study at home, thinking that just having his presence, even if he sits there silently while I do my thing, will be enough to tie him over until midterms are over. But that doesn’t prove to work well either. 

“-Gene and I went out the other day and I swear to god, the poor kid got rejected by every girl in the bar. Not that I’m surprised, y’know Gene, he neva’ did have much game an-” 

“Mer,” I sigh exasperated, putting my pen down on the table with an audible thump, “Y’know I love to hear these stories but it’s really distracting and I need to run through this chapter again.” My eyes linger on the pixelated version of his face on my screen, it doesn’t do him any justice. The shitty camera quality of our laptops do nothing to catch the true colour of his eyes or the texture of his hair and Jesus christ I miss him. 

“So ya jus’ want me to sit here silently?” he asks, a twinge of annoyance to his voice.

“I mean it’s what you’d be doing if you were here,” I point out, “Look, I just thought that doing this could at least try to mimic us being together since I don’t really have time to do the usual talkative shit.” I rub my temples, feeling a strain just behind my eyes that comes with studying for ongoing seven hours.

“Baby, I know you’re busy. I get it, but Jesus Christ I feel like-” he breaks off with a sigh, looking away from the screen for a second, “This is the most I’ve talked to you in the past two weeks.” 

I shake my head lightly, looking around at the mess of papers, textbooks and cue cards that litter my kitchen table, “I don’t know what you want from me right now, Merriell, I’m trying my best.” I insist, running my hands through my greasy, tangled hair.

“I know ya are,” he says, voice rising slightly as his frustrations surface, “I know you’re trying, it’s just I fucking hate this.” 

“Hate what Mer?” I question, feeling irritation bubble up inside of me, “Hate that I can’t devote all my time and energy to talking to you?” I’m about to go on, having a list of things to say but he’s having none of my shit tonight.

“Don’t start with that shit,” he glares at me through the screen, “You know I don’t expect that.”

“Well then stop fucking acting like it,” I exclaim, laughing a bit but there’s no humour in it. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, running a hand over his face tiredly, “Fuck, why’s this gotta be so fucking hard.” he groans, eyes running over his screen, no doubt taking in my appearance.

My finger lifts from the table, running over the projection of his face on my screen. My heart longs to feel the warmth of his skin under my fingertips, I can hardly remember the feeling of his strong jaw, of the light stubble that builds there after a few days of not shaving. My hands itch to run through his hair, to feel the texture of the curls that are somehow soft and coarse all at once. The worst part of long-distance, I conclude, is not being able to touch. 

“I just miss ya so much,” He says softly, and even through the pixels, I can see his eyes soften with sadness.

“I know Mer,” I say compassionately, “I miss you too.” 

We sit silently for another few moments, I push away the nagging at the back of my head that screams at me to study, not wanting to risk upsetting him more.

“Maybe I can come visit soon,” he wonders out loud, clicking and typing loudly at his laptop and I know he’s checking his bank statements, “It’s a little tight right now but I wouldn’t starve by any means an’ ‘Gene owes me money anyway I could use for rent-”

“Merriell, no.” I say sadly because as much as I want him to come up, I don’t want him going broke because of it, “We talked about this, you only come up if you can afford to do it without putting yourself in debt.” He opens his mouth to argue so I speak to cut him off, “You’d tell me the same thing.”

He sighs, burying his head in hands. I can see his shoulders are tense, frustration running through every muscle of his body. He takes another minute or two before he looks back up at the screen.

“Yeah, okay.” he says quietly, “I’ll let ya study.”

“You don’t have to go,” I point out weakly, “I know it’s hard for you to be quiet but I’m sure if you made an effort...” it’s a poor attempt at a joke but it gets his lips twitching into a weak smile nonetheless.

“Nah, can’t have my smart girl failing her classes,” He pauses, “Then I couldn’t tease ‘Gene about how fuckin’ stupid he is.” 

I huff out a laugh, “Go easy on the poor guy.”

“Never” he replies easily with a cheeky smirk. 

I shake my head in amusement, the humour replacing the tension that crossed over us if only for a few moments, it’s welcomed. 

“I love you, Mer,” I say softly, “You know that right?” 

It feels important that he knows it, that he believes it. Lately, every conversation we’ve had has ended in apologies and I hate that. I hate that we fight so often, I hate that I have to be so far away from him all the time and I fucking hate, even the possibility, that he could think that I don’t love him. 

He smiles softly, sadly, “I know baby,” he assures me, “I love you too.” 

I sigh, returning my attention back to the textbooks spread across my table. They seem so unimportant right now. The sight of them only reminds me of how terrible of a girlfriend I’ve been lately and the thought of choosing studying over him again makes me sick to my stomach. 

“I’ll let ya go.” he says, snapping me out of my trance.

I don’t want him to go. I want to keep talking to him, I want to listen to his stupid stories about Eugene striking out with the ladies and his day at work and I want him to hit on me like he doesn’t already have me wrapped around his finger. I’m so unbelievably exhausted, school draining every last ounce of energy from me and yet still demanding more. I can feel tears pricking behind my eyes at the thought of being alone in my quiet apartment. 

“Okay.” I croak, taking a shaky breath and looking away from his image before I really lose it. 

“Hey,” he says softly, “You got this baby girl. Just a few more days an’ you’re in the clear.” I nod, chewing a hole in my lip, “we’re gonna get through this, I promise. Near or far, right?” 

I nod again, taking a steadying breath before saying our final goodbyes for the night. I know I’m being stupid, he’ll text me within the hour but that doesn’t the aching in my chest when his face disappears from my screen, replaced with the home screen. 

Midterms could not end fast enough.

~

“Cheers,” Chloe says loudly over the noise of the bar surrounding us, holding a shot high above her head, “to what seems like the longest two weeks of our lives. We did it. Through our blood, sweat, and for some of us,” she sends me a pointed look, “a whole lot of tears. But midterms,” she pauses for dramatic effect, keeping us all in a form of amused suspense, “are over!”

The group hoots and hollers and we drown our shots, barely wincing at the harshness of the alcohol against our throats. It’s early, but a lot of us are already well on our way to being drunk. Spring break has officially begun and that means a whole week of binge drinking and ignoring all our upcoming academic responsibilities. 

“I didn’t cry that much.” I insist for seemingly the thousandth time.

Chloe laughs loudly, “Oh come on, Y/N.” she pushes my shoulder playfully, “There was hardly a day you didn’t call me in tears because you were behind on studying.” 

I pout dramatically, “I was only behind because my idiot boyfriend kept distracting me.” 

“He is an idiot,” she agrees, earning herself a slightly too hard punch to the shoulder on my behalf, “Speaking of,”  she continues, “How are things with you guys?”

I shrug, rubbing at the condensation on my glass, “We’re fine.” I answer, “He keeps insisting we’re fine anyways. Even though all we’ve done lately is fight about how hard this whole long-distance thing is.” I meet her concerned gaze and shrug again, “It’ll be better now that midterms are over I just...miss him. It’s hard.” 

She nods, understanding, “You think you’ll be able to see him soon?” 

“I don’t think so.” I say sadly, “All the money I save goes right back into paying for school. He’s trying to save but I think it’ll be a little while yet.”

Midterms kept me busy enough, that it hadn’t really occurred to me how much longer it could be before I could see my boy again. I was so focused on vocabulary, theories and information that will soon be next to useless, I always had something else to contemplate. But now that it’s all over I’m hit with the unfortunate reality that it could be months before I see him again. And the mere thought of that makes my heartache. 

“God Chloe, I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” I whine, pouting dramatically.

A small, kind of sly smile creeps over her lips and her eyes glimmer with mischief, “Is that so?” 

Her voice sounds teasing and I’m left feeling like I’m the last one in on a joke. I take in the table around me and notice that all my friends are staring at me, giddy with excitement. My brow crumples in confusion and I look back at Chloe, who is practically bursting at the seams, phone pointed and aimed towards me.

“What are you doing?” I question, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Turn around,” she says simply.

I do what she says, turning around in my seat to address the scene behind me and I can’t believe my eyes. Standing in the middle of the bar is an all too familiar figure with unruly curls and sea-green eyes.

The next thing I know, I’ve thrown myself out of the chair and across the bar floor, all but tackling him. His arms wrap tightly around me, we spin and my senses are enveloped in everything that is so undeniably Merriell. I can hear him laughing in my ear, deep and throaty, can feel his arm around my waist, his hand in my hair and his lips on my forehead, mumbling soft words that I can’t hear over the cheering of my friends and drunk bystanders. My fingers clench in his loose-fitting t-shirt desperately, as if I were to let him go he’d disappear. I’m not aware of the tears running down my cheeks until he tilts my head up to gently wipe them away. 

“Baby, why you cryin’?” he teases, kissing the tip of my nose softly.

I let out a wet laugh and shake my head, unable to do anything other than stare up at him admiringly for a moment. I take in a shaky breath, “You’re such an asshole.” it’s said without heat and he beams down at me, placing soft kisses on my lips.  

He maneuvers us back to our table, where he greets Chloe and introduces himself to my friends. I’m faintly aware of everything around me that isn’t him, not quite grasping the fact that this is real, he’s here and not hundreds of miles away in a whole other state. 

“What are you doing here?” I finally ask, my thoughts having settled in my head much in the same way I have settled sideways on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

He looks at me with a smile, eyes soft, “Honestly, I jus’ couldn’t wait any longer.”

The group ‘aw’s and I am helpless to do anything but lean in to kiss him. 

The rest of the night we drink, dance and for the first time months, I feel light and happy. Hardly a moment goes by where we’re not touching each other in some way. It had been too long since we’ve felt the warmth of each other’s bodies against one another, his hands on my hips, mine on his chest. It felt so surreal to have him near again. He was just as obnoxious and loud as I remembered him being and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We had pissed off the rest of the bar while dancing. A familiar jazz tune came on and Merriell had tugged me to the dance floor, attempting to teach me a form of swing dancing that I was 99% certain wasn’t even a thing. Chloe had finally managed to get us to leave, but not after he had managed to nearly get us thrown out for public indecency. Totally his fault, he can’t expect to kiss me like that and not expect me to want to jump his bones. 

The memories of last night come filtering back to me, much like the sunlight that finds its way into the room through my curtains. My eyes flutter open and my senses slowly come back to me. The feeling of soft blankets around my body, the warm skin of his chest beneath my cheek, a hand resting limply on my waist and our legs tangled with each other. His chest rises and falls slowly, mouth parted ever so slightly as he sleeps deeply. I shift on my stomach to watch him, taking in every detail I had forgotten over time. The way his fingers twitch restlessly in his sleep, how his muscles clench ever so slightly as I run my fingers across his abdomen. I missed waking up to him like this. He looks at peace and I can’t help but wonder if he sleeps this good when we’re apart. 

He breathes in deeply suddenly, face scrunching against the offending sunlight. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer as his other hand rubs the sleep away from his face. He hums softly, a sleepy smile spreading across his features as his eyes flutter open and meet mine.

“Mornin’” he murmurs.

I feel a grin split across my face as I admire his handsome features in the morning light, “Good morning.” 

“I missed this.” He sighs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I hum in agreement, leaning into his touch, “me too.” 

We stay like that for a while. His arms around me, my fingers dancing across his skin, the room just slightly too warm to be pressed so close but neither of us willing to move away from the other just yet. I don’t know how long he’s staying, how long it’ll be before we see each other again after this and yet I find myself reluctant to bring up the conversation, afraid to shatter the perfect moment we’ve created. 

“Could stay like this forever,” I say instead, softly, a tinge of sadness and longing to my voice. 

He hums softly, a hand coming up to run through my hair, gently brushing away any knots with his fingers, “About that...” 

I pull away, pushing myself up and away from his body to look at him. I feel anxiety begin to bubble in the pit of my stomach at the uncharacteristic bashfulness on his face. 

“What?” I ask softly, searching his face for any clues.

His eyes run over my features silently, lip drawn between his teeth as he debates how to bring up the mysterious subject. 

“I may have done somethin..” he hesitates, “kind of stupid.” 

My mind runs to a million and ten different possibilities, every one worse than the last. My entire body runs tight. But it seems to focus on one possibility in particular and just the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. I’ve heard too many long-distance relationships gone wrong because of drunken loneliness and one night stands and ‘she’ll never have to know’s and I can practically hear him say it in my haze of overthinking.

I cheated on you.

“I sold my apartment.” 

I blink. My mouth opens and shuts and I’m at a loss for words because I don’t know what this conversation is going to be. I silently chastise myself for jumping to a conclusion so drastic. Confusion swarms me as I take in how absolutely nervous he is.

“Okay,” I say slowly, trying desperately to grasp what the underlying meaning is, “Why?” I ask eventually.

His lips twitch into a bashful smile, looking out the window briefly before crossing his legs and sitting closer to me, taking my hand in his. 

“Well,” he starts, looking back up at me with soft eyes, “Because lately New Orleans’ hasn’t really felt like home.” Something clicks in my brain and I have to force myself to contain my excitement, just in case I’m wrong, “So the stupid thing was selling my place before comin’ here and askin’ you this but..” he trails off and he looks so nervous and absolutely adorable that I have to restrain myself from kissing him silly. 

“What would ya think about us movin’ in togetha’? Here?” 

A small laugh escapes my lips and I can’t hold myself back anymore, practically tackling him back onto the mattress, kissing him passionately. A grin on my part breaks our kiss. 

“I would fucking love that.” 

A slow smile spreads across his lips like he truly can’t believe that I agreed and I’m helpless to do anything other than kiss him again. 

“Thank God,” he sighs into my mouth, “‘Cause I got ‘Gene on standby ready to ship all my shit over here,” he says in between kisses.

My heart sores. Never again will we have to resort to weekly facetime calls just to see each other’s face. Never again will I forget the warmth of his body against mine and never again will I have to face heartbreaking longing that I feel when he’s not with me. 

My hand cups his jaw and rubs my thumb over his cheekbone, “I love you so damn much, Merriell Shelton.” I say hopelessly. 

He beams at me, rubbing our noses together softly and muttering the phrase that, to us, means unconditional love.

“Near or far.”

~

A/N: AND THAT IT!!! Feedback is welcome or seriously if y’all ever wanna just spam my inbox with Snafu love I am totally here for it.

#Merriell Shelton #Merriell Snafu Shelton #merriell shelton x reader #merriell shelton/reader #snafu #Snafu Shelton #snafu x reader #snafu shelton x reader #the pacific #fluff

[takemeawaytocamelot]

Red Jamie and the White Lady - Part 29

I can’t believe this story has become nearly THIRTY chapters! This journey has been incredible for me as a writer, finding a new way to tell the same story. I hope you stick around for the next installment, which is already being worked on. HUGE shout out to my darling @diversemediums for helping me beta this beast. (Full disclosure, the last few lines of this chapter were fully her genius, so give her credit for her amazing skills!)

Anyway, you can catch up on chapter 28 HERE, or check out the story from the beginning via my master list HERE. (If some of the links don’t work, please send me an ask or drop me a DM as comments in the chapters themselves won’t always get seen.)

Previously...

“Enough!” Claire snapped, barely controlling her anger as all eyes turned to her. “What the hell do you know that will help Jamie? Because if you don’t have anything that you can tell me right now that will help him, you can get the hell out of this house.”

Everyone fell silent and waited. Dougal stepped forward, meeting Claire’s eyes.

“We have a name.”

Jenny stared at her uncle, eyes wide.

“I didna Hear ye think so much as a hint that ye kent so much.”

“I canna promise it’ll help, or that it’ll get ye to Jamie. But, if we work together, we might find him in time.”

The ache in Claire’s chest hadn’t gone away and it clenched again.

“Tell me,” she whispered.

“If it is who we believe it is,” Geillis said. “His name is Stephen Bonnet.”

Claire stared open-mouthed at Geillis.

“You know who took him?”

“We think we know. He’s slippery as an eel, so it’s near impossible to confirm that it’s him. But, if it is him, then-”

Claire took a long, shuddering breath, making Geillis stop mid-sentence.

“Where. The hell. Is my husband?”

Dougal stepped forward then, placing himself between Claire and Geillis.

“We have a few places to look. Bonnet might be hard to track, but his… ‘friends’ aren’t.”

“A few places?!”

She was growing nearly frantic with her need to find Jamie. He’d been away from her for too long and she knew his migraines would be getting bad. If this lasted much longer, they would become fatal. She swallowed hard, holding back tears.

“I have people watching them, waiting for any sign that-”

“I’m sick of waiting! I’ve been waiting for two bloody days with NO progress on bringing Jamie home!”

Murtagh put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. Dougal glanced at Murtagh, a silent acknowledgement seeming to pass between them.

“Ye ken ye canna have a private thought wi’ me standing right here, aye? Murtagh, you are not Rambo and Dougal… I still dinna trust ye. OI! Dinna insult my husband!”

“Christ, Janet!” Dougal bellowed. “Will ye get out of my head?!”

She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him.

“No’ in my own house.”

Dougal opened his mouth to respond, but a cell phone rang instead. Rupert fumbled in his pocket before he got the device out.

“It’s Angus,” he said, answering it. “What do ye have?”

Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath, waiting to hear what the man had found.

“Good God, man, put the damn phone on speaker or we’ll all pass out waitin’ for ye,” Ian said.

Rupert looked to Dougal, who nodded. With one button, a voice echoed in the silent house.

“I popped out o’ the car for a wee piss, ‘round the corner from the warehouse. Now, ye ken it’s colder than a witch’s tit out here, aye? Takin’ a piss outside isne the easiest thing and-”

“Angus! I’ve put ye on speaker!”

The line went silent and Claire stopped breathing, wondering if the man had hung up.

“Ah… Hello, boss?”

Dougal rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Why is it ye called, Angus?”

“Oh! Weel, the warehouse ye had me sittin’ on had some movement a moment ago. Wouldn’t ye believe it, but a h-” the sound of an embarrassed cough cracked through the speaker. “Ah, weel… A lass Rupert and I kent back-”

“A lass? Who?” Rupert interrupted.

Angus muttered something that apparently only Rupert understood.

“Scarlet? Scarlet the hoor?!” he asked incredulously. “What was she-”

Rupert ducked as Dougal made a swipe at him.

“Angus, tell us what ye know or I swear I’ll cave yer head in.”

“Oh… ah… Aye, weel… Anywhoo… Scarlet went and, ah… spoke wi’ one of Bonnet’s main thugs. I spoke to the other boys and none o’ them have had any movement. If that slimy bastard is anywhere, boss, he’s here.”

“Thank you, Angus,” Dougal said. “We’ll contact ye shortly when we’ve a plan.”

Rupert hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket.

“This is too easy,” Dougal said.

Murtagh nodded, scratching at his beard.

“Aye. Bonnet doesna seem to be so sloppy to let a hoor come and service his men.”

“Not where she’ll be seen,” Dougal agreed.

The tightness in Claire’s chest didn’t ease.

“I don’t care. We need to go get him. Now,” she said.

Dougal shook his head.

“Ye do ken this may be a trap? A way to ensure Jamie’s compliance? If he’s held out this long, and I believe he has, Bonnet will be looking for a way to break him, aye?”

Claire clenched her fists to hide the trembling.

“What other choice do we have? If it’s a trap, then… Bonnet needs Jamie alive. I could… I could go in. Maybe find him and…” she trailed off, her half-baked plan falling apart as she spoke it.

What other choice did she have?

“The hell you will,” Murtagh said gruffly, taking a step forward. “I’ll no’ let ye risk getting killed, lass.”

“I will not sit on the sidelines while my husband is tortured to death,” she barked back. “If it’s a trap, Bonnet will be looking for you all to rush in. I’ll wait for you and hopefully we’ll be in time to save Jamie.”

“That’s no’ a plan, lass,” Murtagh said, turning to face her. “It’s a suicide mission.”

They glared at each other, neither willing to back down.

“You will not!” Jenny suddenly yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Dougal. “There is no way in hell I’ll allow ye to rescue my brother wi’out me. He’s the only brother I have left!”

“Wherever she goes,” Ian said, placing his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “I go.”

Dougal pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at everyone around him. He shrugged.

“Jamie will need ye,” he said, looking at Claire. “If we cause a distraction, you and Murtagh might be able to sneak in. We’ll need to sit down and look at blueprints to be sure that-”

“We don’t have time for that!” Claire blurted.

She could feel it in the marrow of her bones, in the connection between Seer and Healer. The aching, terrifying truth of what was coming.

“If ye want to get the lad out alive,” Dougal said slowly. “We need a plan.”

Geillis pulled a laptop out of the bag Claire hadn’t noticed on her shoulder. In a few keystrokes, she had the blueprints of the warehouse pulled up.

“Give him time,” she said. “Dougal’s a good strategist.”

“I don’t want to hear a word from you,” Claire said sharply. “Not. One. Word.”

Geillis flinched as if she’d been slapped, but she didn’t say anything else. Everyone began to settle in to study the blueprints, but Claire felt a tug on her shirt. Glancing down, she saw Fergus, looking up at her with tears in his eyes.

“Milady,” he said softly. “We must all work together to bring Milord back. I know it is not easy, but… We can do it for Milord, yes?”

Claire felt tears come to her own eyes and she pulled Fergus into a fierce hug.

“You’re right,” she said.

“I will help to bring him home,” Fergus said, pulling a pocket knife from his trousers.

“No, sweetheart,” she said. “You can’t. Jamie would never forgive us for putting you in danger.”

Fergus’ face crumpled at her words.

“But-”

“Nay, lad,” Murtagh said. “She’s right. But we need someone to protect Lallybroch while we’re all out. And someone to help us keep an eye on the situation. You’ll stay with Geillis and make sure this place is safe to bring Jamie home to.”

“Oui!” Fergus said excitedly. “I will keep Lallybroch safe!”

With that settled, it took the better part of three hours to get a plan together. Claire stood or paced the whole time, unable to sit, no matter how much she wanted to.

“So,” Rupert said, finishing his text to Angus and Dougal’s other men. “Are we agreed on the plan?”

Everyone around the table nodded.

“Lets go get our Seer back,” Claire said, trying to ignore the terror settling in her belly.

***

Jamie growled in Gaelic, denied putting his hands around the Irishman’s throat by one of the bastards henchmen.

“Oh look! You are alive, laddie,” Bonnet replied, kneeling to speak face to face.

Jamie struggled against the restraining hold placed on him, his muscles burning with weakness. But he couldn’t give up. Drops of blood fell to the floor, making a soft splat.

“That’s a nasty nosebleed you have there,” Bonnet said, tilting Jamie’s head toward the naked light bulb for a better look.

“I suppose,” Jamie said, his voice gruff and gravelly. “That’s what happens when ye hit someone in the face ten or twenty times.”

Bonnet tisked at him.

“And such humor too! Now, correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Fraser, but a nosebleed is a sign that you’re dyin’, isn’t it?”

Jamie said nothing as he fought to keep his face blank. How the hell did Bonnet know that? As if reading his thoughts, the Irishman nodded.

“Was that your plan, then? Hold out until you keel over and leave me holdin’ the bag? Well… what if I brought you… La Dame Blanche?”

Nothing Jamie did could keep the reaction from his face.

“Ye canna,” Jamie bluffed. “I dinna ken who she is.”

“You’ve got a good poker face, I’ll give you that. But you won’t fool me, Fraser. Not when I’m luring your Dame here.”

Ice filled Jamie’s heart as the horror of Bonnet’s words sank in. Words failed him, so he kept his gaze focused on the floor beneath him, feeling the hammer of the blood pounding in his ears.

“Oh yes I can,” Bonnet said as he stood. “And I am. Because I need you alive and I need you to do as I ask. I’ve come to learn the best way to make you do that is if I use your lady as leverage.”

Forcing his eyes up, he tried to focus on Bonnet. But the man’s image had become wavy, losing focus with every heartbeat. The pain began to increase, sharpening into a knife’s edge as it sliced through him.

“Stay with me, Fraser,” Bonnet commanded.

Jamie couldn’t respond even if he wanted to. The steady drip-drip of the blood from his nose began to speed up. It wouldn’t be long now. While he hated to leave Claire, he was glad no one would be after her once he was gone.

I am so sorry, mo nighean donn. I tried to return to ye. I just…

Then he let out a chilling scream as he grabbed at his head. The henchmen’s grip had faltered in the wake of his cry, but he didn’t care. Even if the door had been open, Jamie didn’t have the strength to crawl through it. This was the end.

The sound of breathing echoed in his ears like the ocean rushing over sand, a soothing, dispassionate rhythm amongst the incongruous images that played in his mind. Waves of pain came as his breathing ebbed, slowly pulling him under the surface of what he would leave behind. Jamie felt bodiless, his soul live and thrashing against the inevitable dark void of death while his mind welcomed it openly, ready to have his fate sealed.

Thoughts and memories floated by: Jenny’s smile, Ian’s laugh, Murtagh’s grunt of annoyance, the way Fergus still ate every meal like it was his last.

When he died, would he see his mother again? Da? Willie?

The thought that he might gave him comfort and his soul slowed it’s struggle, the void coming closer.

Claire.

Jamie held her like a talisman, a buffer against the whirlwind of visions and chaos that threatened to engulf him.

Sorcha. I love you. I am sorry. To hold ye once more… Claire, I love you. I’ll find you. I promise.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #red jamie and the white lady #takemeawaytocamelot #diversemediums #camelot writes again #stay tuned #30 will be huge

[somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds]

Constangreen The Proposal AU! I had to crank out a moodboard and ficlet for this idea. Dedicated to the lovely @agentmarymargaretskitz who needs a little fluff right now and the lovely folks at the Constangreen server. Love you guys!

Gary was late.

He’s slept through his snooze button, and so he barely had time to take a quick shower, dress, and attempt to fix his hair into something presentable. He was held up at this stupid pretentious tea café six blocks out of his way that his pain-in-the-ass boss just HAD to get a lapsang souchong with exactly one sugar cube in it, and it took forever due to how busy it was. But finally, with tea and his own black coffee with cream, he hurried to the publishing office, where he had to wait for the elevator to take him to the ninth floor. Of course, the elevator had to stop at EVERY. SINGLE. FLOOR.

“Cutting it close,” the receptionist Mona whispered to him as he passed her desk, and he shouldn’t have turned to reply ‘I know’ to her before Gary collided with Nate, spilling the tea all over the floor.

“Seriously?!” Gary exclaimed as Nate tried to apologize, sighing at the tea on his pants and on the floor, setting his coffee on the side of Mona’s desk and wiping up the mess. “Just great, he’s going to lose his-“

The elevator door opened again, and John Constantine walked out with purpose, eyes hidden behind sunglasses but his glare could still be felt through them. Nate quickly darted off and Mona went back to her phone. Gary sighed again, picking up his coffee and turning to John as he approached him.

“Good m-“

“Is Sharpie coming in today or not, darling, she didn’t answer her bloody email yesterday.”

“Ms. Sharpe is coming today, the meeting’s in three hours,” Gary said, keeping pace with him as the other coworkers dodged out of their way as they headed down the corridors. “I have your reports for it already in your box on your desk. I called your lawyer over the copyright claim, it’s being sorted out and she should be back with results by Thursday. Hey, um, so, you know the book I’ve been working on, the one that I gave a copy of to you? I was thinking-“

“Did Rory turn in the manuscript for the sequel yet yet, it’s over two weeks late. Wanker keeps that shit up again, tell him to get a new publisher because we’ll sell o-“

“No, he sent it in yesterday, that’s on my desk. I’m just bringing this up because I’ve been working for you for five years and you said I get one favor from you, so I was thinking-“

“I might have gotten up to more than I thought I would last night, have you-“

“I know, I already called your PR guy last night, John, they’ll spin it wasn’t you drunk in a pub crawl on a Monday night.”

John shoved his hair out of his face, breathing out and then grinning, “Fucking brilliant, Gary.”

Gary suddenly perked up, breaking out into a wide smile. “Oh, thank you! So, does that mean you’ll look at my- oh hey, no, that’s my c-“ he started to say when John took the coffee from his hand and drank from it before spitting it out into a cubicle trash can, then dumping the poor innocent Styrofoam cup in there after it.

“The hell is that, where’s my tea?”

“I don’t have it y-“

“I’m hungover, I feel like I’m gonna hurl on your desk, Rory hasn’t sent in his script, AND you don’t have my tea?! What do I pay you?!” John nearly yelled at him, and Gary rolled his eyes, shoving Rory’s manuscript against his chest.

He hissed, “Not nearly enough. Here’s the script, take it already.”

“What about my-“

“I’ll get you your tea,” Gary muttered, sitting at his desk and answering the ringing phone. “John Constantine’s office, how can I help you?”

He took down the message and watched out of the corner of his eye as John unscrewed his water bottle and took an Advil from Gary’s container on his desk. As soon as Gary hung up the phone he asked, “Need you for an event and the like this weekend. That an issue?’

Again, Gary sighed, “I was going to ask off to go see my family for my Aunt Stacy’s 90th birthday this weekend, so-“ John’s face didn’t change, Gary could see his eyes peeking out from behind his sunglasses, so he finished his sentence with a tired, “-I’ll cancel, I’ll cancel, it’s fine.”

“That’s the same lot that tells you to quit, yeah?”

Gary put on the fakest smile possible, picking up the phone and cradling it between his shoulder and his neck. “Every single day, boss.”

He nearly fell forward in his chair as John clasped him hard across the back with a laugh before heading back to his office.“Thanks, darling, don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Gary’s smile dropped and he rolled his eyes hard as he dialed the number, muttering under his breath, “Probably dead in a ditch. Or a bog of some sort.”

Mona came over after dropping off a tea to John’s office, leaning against Gary’s desk with a sympathetic smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Gary said around the red pen cap in his mouth. “You know his hangover days, you get used to them after time.”

“I don’t see how,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m amazed you haven’t snapped.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Gary grinned at her, removing the cap and showing her the document open on his personal laptop. “Sadly, a blonde British warlock was the first to die at the hands of the monstrous hellhound.”

Mona laughed. “How’s the book going?”

“I’ve got it all mapped out, the first book is done, midway through the second.” Gary shrugged. “Only problem is getting it published, ironically enough.”

“He should owe you a favor by now.”

“The nicest thing he’s ever done for me is pay for a new suit when he threw up on mine,” Gary laughed, answering the phone and waving Ms. Sharpe and another woman into John’s office and getting back to his own work.

He didn’t think anything of it when he heard a loud crash from inside the office, too dull to shock caused by his boss at this point.

                                                        *******

“…what did you say?” John gasped, coughing on his words and taking his sunglasses off to rub his eyes.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Constantine,” Federal Agent Gideon Ryder told him, not sounding sorry in the least. “But your worker’s visa from the UK has expired. I’m afraid you’re subject to deportation, as I’ve told Ms. Sharpe.”

John collapsed back into his chair. “It’s only over a few weeks or so since I forgot the paperwork, give me some time to go over-“

“I’m afraid the window has passed.”

“Then I’ll continue my work back in Liverpool, can do all communications online until-“

Ava’s mouth was in a pressed line. “John, when you’re deported, you can no longer work for an American company.”

John rolled his eyes at her, “All this work I’ve done for you and you’re hanging me out to dry, pet?”

“I’m not getting wrapped up in potential fraudulent behavior, John, you know that.”

John leaned back in his chair further, propping his feet up on the desk and rubbed at his temple. He chewed on the back of a pencil, wishing he could get up and smoke on the balcony, but he didn’t feel like another primary grade lecture on the danger of tobacco effects on the body from Ava.

This was bullshit.

He was fully content to sulk in his chair with his arms folded across his chest until five o’clock rolled around, when there was a knock at his door and then the office door opened and Gary stuck his head in. “Pardon the interruption-“

“We’re in a meeting, Gary,” Ava began, voice crisp and blunt, but John shushed her.

“Hey, hey, don’t snap at ‘im, pet.”

Gary rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s your job, after all.”

“Darling, as much as I hate proving her wrong, I’m in a meeting at the-“

“I’m aware you’re in the meeting I arranged for you, John. I’m just letting you know that when you’re finished you need to call Snart on his cell number.”

“Tell him I’m busy,” John argued, chewing on the eraser portion of the pencil until grit was between his teeth.

“I DID, John, I didn’t transfer him to your line right NOW,” Gary insisted through his teeth. A typical morning. “I told him you had a prior engagement. If you’re done arguing like a child, I’d like to get back to-

Engagement.

John tossed the pencil aside and mouthed, ‘you’re a bloody fucking genius, Gary’ at the man and gestured for him to come in. Gary sighed, but let himself in as John stood up from his desk and made his way over to him. “Thank you, for letting me know the situation,” he stated evenly to Gideon, standing right beside Gary. “But, don’t have to worry about that little expiration.”

“Why not?”

“Because - we-” John started, putting an arm around Gary’s shoulder and turning to smile at him. “-we’re getting - married.”

The room went silent.

Gary blinked at him once, then twice, then put on a usual corporate smile. “Hmm?”

“Getting married, yeah,” John smiled back at him.

“Who - who’s getting married?”

“Us, darling, You and me,” John laughed, sounding forced as he squeezed Gary’s shoulder hard, harder than necessary. “True love, he’s the one, the whole lot, ya know? So - we’re clear, all good, Sharpie, yeah?”

Ava looked like she was about to burst out laughing, a rare look on her. “You know what, John? You make it legal, we’re a-OK. Right, Gideon?”

Gideon’s lips were tilted up into a smile. “That would be correct, a legal marriage to a US citizen will allow you more time to restore your visa.”

Gary was too frozen to even think about moving, didn’t even think about it as Ava nudged his other shoulder on the way out with Gideon, laughing about ‘saving her an invitation’ and ‘of course you’d one-up me by getting married first’ before the door closed behind the two women. Then he shoved John’s arm off of his shoulder and hissed at him, “WHAT DID YOU SAY?!”

“We’re getting married, pick out a tux,” John said offhandedly like he was asking Gary to pick up his lunch for him that day. “Hey, d’ you swipe my pack again, dyin’ for a smoke right n-“

“I’m not - I’m NOT MARRYING YOU,” Gary snapped, snatching the pack out of John’s hands. “There’s not enough alcohol in the world.”

“Then be unemployed,” John snapped back, reaching for the pack only for Gary to move it away from him. “Because I get deported, you’re out of a bloody job, and you’re not making editor yet.”

“Low blow,” Gary scoffed, this time holding the pack up high over his head, standing on his toes just out of John’s reach. “You hit me, I’ll call HR.”

John sighed, rubbing his temple. “Holding my fuckin’ pack hostage, cruel.”

“Deal with it, I’m not marrying you.”

“Pretty please?”

“Hell no, my personal life can’t revolve around you like my professional one does.”

“You have one?”

“How would you know, everything’s been focused on YOU for five years!” Gary nearly shrieked. “I thought the worst thing I’ve ever done for you deal with your drunk ass after Stein’s retirement party, I will NOT do this for you.”

John worked his jaw as Gary started to leave the room, his hand on the doorknob. “Wait! I - your book.”

Gary paused. “What about it?” 

“I can get you a deal, I can run it through the higher-ups,” John bargained. “I’ll handle everything, darling, I promise you that.”

Gary sighed, turning around to lean against the knob. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly, love.”

“This isn’t going to work out.”

“It only has to for about seven months.”

“SEVEN MO- no, that’s too much of you in my-“

“Your book. Published. Can draw up a deal right after the honeymoon.”

“Ew, I’m not - I’m not ‘honeymooning’ with you, I’ll catch something from you.”

“First, rude, I’m clean. Second, not what I was implying, for once. Third, we’ll shake on it,” John declared, sticking a hand. “Swear on my life, let’s do it.”

Gary stared at his hand, then looked back up at John’s face, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’d like to be asked.”

“I just asked.”

“Nope, you didn’t. I’d like to be asked the right way.”

“Oh, for fuck’s s-“

Gary waved the cigarettes in front of his face. “You get these back when you get on your knee.”

“I’ll call HR on you for that, Gary Green.”

“Wh- no! That’s not-“

John laughed, grabbing a paperclip from the desk and bending it into a circle, getting on one knee. “Fine. Gary Green, marry me.”

“That wasn’t even a question, that was a request.”

“You cheeky fu- would you please marry me?”

Gary pinched the bridge of his nose. “You promise you can get me that deal?”

“Promise, Gary.”

“….then....yes, I’ll - I’ll marry you.”

John stood right back up from the floor, shoving the bent paperclip ring onto his finger and clapping his hand across his back again. “Fucking stunner you are, darling.”

Gary rolled his eyes again. “Am I allowed to go back to work, now?”

“Pass the pack.”

Gary was so glad he had terrible coordination, he hit John square in the twice-broken nose with it. John grabbed it, sending Gary a look before opening a window. “You’re dismissed.”

“Thanks, sweetie pie,” Gary muttered bitterly, stealing his stapler from his desk. “Don’t talk to me the rest of the day.”

And with that, Gary left the office and collapsed into his desk chair, resting his head on his arms with his desk. He didn’t get to rest as long as he would have liked before he heard Mona’s voice. “Got your Chipotle order.”

He picked his head back up, cracking his neck, and smiled at her. “Thanks, Mona.” His smile faded slightly when John left his office to grab his order from Mona’s bag.

“Thanks, love,” he told her, already opening the lid and sticking a fork in it. Cigarette smoke still clung to his clothes and assaulted Gary’s nose as he turned around to face him. “Darling, I have a conference call, put my other calls on hold. Run my inbox for me, too, gotta run now. We’ll talk after, yeah?”

And then the door was closing behind him again, and Gary rubbed at his temple again.

“What a prick,” Mona whispered, laughing at her own comment. 

“I know,” Gary nodded, absently twisting the paperclip around his finger. “Can’t believe I’m marrying him.”

He was glad he’d taken to leaving an extra shirt at work, as Mona ended up spitting guacamole-slathered rice all over it.

#legends of tomorrow #constangreen #john constantine #gary green #this is crack #please enjoy #it was too much fun to write

[dreadhaus-literature]

{January Collection} #29

Concrete Shoes

Be careful what you wish for, be careful who you choose...

“Concrete Shoes? Oh my god that sounds dumb as hell.”

Monica laughed, popping a hot chip into her mouth as she nodded. “I know, right? Who comes up with this shit?”

“Idiot edgelords on the internet, I guess.”

The bottom of Monica’s laptop read 3:19AM but it was a time that passed without any acknowledgement from her, as she was focused on the center of her screen; her best friend Dot’s face was plastered on half, the other half of the pixels full of their shared Rabbit room. The girls were falling down a rabbit hole of internet games that no one in their right mind would play, like The Midnight Man or The Bathtub Game, but the deeper they went, the dumber they seemed to get. At least, that was what the girls were convincing themselves of...because it was dark outside and it was easier to laugh at things than imagine something might actually be real.

“Nothing called Concrete Shoes could be real, or even anything I’d be scared of,” Monica continued, shifting to lie more on her back on the couch. In the background, the TV played a Psych rerun and she gave it a half-hearted glance, before turning back to Dot. “What the hell does it even say to do?”

Dot moved the Rabbit cursor over the screen. “Take your favorite pair of shoes and place them on the floor at the foot of your bed, as if you were standing in them and facing your bed. The toes should be one inch under the bed.”

Monica fished out another chip with a crunch, listening.

“Place the highest denomination of silver coin you have on the toe of each shoe--for example, if you only have quarters, place one quarter on the toe of one shoe, and repeat the action with the second shoe.”

“At what point do I light a candle and say my own name backwards six times?” Monica quipped dryly, which earned her a laugh from Dot.

“Uh, I don’t actually think you do either of those things.” Dot continued reading, leaning in a little closer to her screen. “Once you’ve finished with your shoes, go about your normal nightly routine. Concrete Shoes needs time to find his way to you.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “Right.”

“Once you’ve turned off all your lights and gotten into bed, don’t lie down. Sit up and face the foot of your bed, and in the dark, say, ‘I know you’re there.’“

It’s very easy to scoff at a lot of the things you find on the internet, but if you actually take the time to sit and think about some of these games, what some of these things ask you to do is a little creepy. Monica actually pulled her sweater a little closer at the idea of sitting up in her pitch black room, alone, and saying that sentence out loud. She may not believe a word of this ritual, but that seemed like a real bad idea regardless. You never know who or what might be listening to you.

“You’ll know Concrete Shoes has accepted your offer if you hear the coins clink together after you acknowledge him. It means he’s pocketed your offer, and now you may ask him one thing. It can be a question you want answered, or you can even express a wish for him to grant.” Dot cleared her throat, taking a swig from a can before she continued. “As with most paranormal games, do not ask Concrete Shoes about your death, and do not ask him his name.”

“So his name isn’t Concrete Shoes?”

“I don’t think so, it’s probably just what they’re calling the game to prevent from actually saying his name.” Dot shrugged. “It says, after you’ve asked him your question or your wish, he’ll either answer you with a positive that he’s accepted and will grant your wish in due time, or he’ll simply answer your question, but he may deny you. If he does, do not push him. There’s probably a reason. Simply thank him and tell him, ‘I’d like you to leave, now.’“

Monica tried to laugh at the end of his ritual but something about this wasn’t nearly as funny as some of the others they’d read that night. There was something that felt decidedly more...she wasn’t going to say real. Out of the two girls, Monica was the logical one, the one who needed a bit of tangible proof of something’s validity before she was willing to suspend belief and admit it may be real. Instead, her laugh came out short and a little forced.

“Leave the shoes at the foot of your bed overnight; simply lay down and go to sleep. The following morning, if your shoes have returned to your closet, Concrete Shoes has left and the ritual is completed.”

Dot stopped reading and Monica lifted a brow. “What...happens if your shoes aren’t returned to your closet?”

“It doesn’t say.” There was the sound of Dot’s mouse wheel scrolling as she visibly ran through the list from top to bottom again. “It literally doesn’t say, that’s the end of it.”

Well, that was typical of the internet. Detailed instructions on how to summon what was probably a fucking demon, and no mention at all what to do if the demon decides to just take up residence in your house. Monica shook her head, fighting off a sense of the creeps by turning back to her snack. “And again we’ll ask, who the hell tries this sort of thing?”

A few hours later and Monica was back in her bedroom, staring at her bed before shaking her head and moving deeper into her room. She and Dot of course had no answer for who the hell tries these sorts of rituals but they never did. It was fun to read about them, like walking past the haunted house without ever risking going inside. There was just no need to do that to yourself. She changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth, running her fingers through her short, dark hair in the mirror before she exited back into her bedroom. Her phone was lighting up on her pillow and she walked past the foot of her bed to grab it...oblivious that a pair of her shoes were facing the foot of her bed, the toes exactly one inch under the bed. The glimmer of two coins on the toes was missed by her, so distracted was she by the shimmer of her phone screen.

It was a text. JAYBIRD 😘 lit up her screen and she swiped to answer it, typing out a message to ask how his night had gone. She’d met Jason Todd on a trip she’d taken with Dot to Gotham City--somewhere Dot had been reluctant to go, but had done for her and it had paid off for Monica in a major way. She’d run into Jason by pure chance of fate and he’d seemed taken with her immediately, asking for her number right then and there. They went on two dates before Monica’s trip to Gotham was over and Jason was already begging her to come back to the city. Right now, they kept in touch via texts, phone calls, and video calls. Sexts and nudes were included there, of course.

Monica got into bed, a smile on her face as she rested against the headboard, typing back and forth with Jason as he text her a puppy-eyed selfie to beg her not to go to sleep just yet, that he missed her and wanted to talk to her. Her smiled deepened and she drew her knees up toward her chest.

« just 1 selfie, beautiful? im dyin here. need 2 c u 😍 »

Monica shook her head with a light laugh. She knew better than to tell Jason she was already in bed, that she’d washed her make-up off, that her hair wasn’t properly brushed--he always told her the same thing. He loved the way she looked, no matter if she was all dolled up for him to undress, or if she was beautifully bare just for him. She swiped to open her camera and lifted it, about to flip it to her front facing camera when the image of someone standing at the foot of her bed was captured on the phone’s screen.

Monica couldn’t help it, she screamed.

The being at the foot of her bed paused, inclining his head as his entire body shuddered at the sound she made. Long horns ran parallel to a face that had born witness to the birth of man, with three sets of eyes that would see the death of man and blink, only curious what would come next. The ancient being didn’t seem to have hair, but rather sharp, bony ridges along his brow and cheeks that complimented his archaic features the way hair might on a marble statue. His skin was pale in some places, in others it was dark as night, and as Monica’s scream died in her throat, all six of his eyes opened and focused on her, a slashing silver that nailed her to the bed she was resting against. Her phone dropped, forgotten, onto the comforter, the screen going dark but Monica couldn’t look away from the creature towering over her bed, and he didn’t seem keen to look away from her, either.

“You did not summon me.”

The voice that spoke to her had once shaken the earth, but rumbled across her bed like a serpent, climbing between her legs to whisper of sin, of stolen souls and eternal damnation that she would enjoy by his side. Monica didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know how to speak to such an ancient voice. She could hardly believe what she was seeing.

“Ah. You did not think I was real.”

The being behind the game Concrete Shoes made a show of inclining his powerful head, his broad shoulders relaxing. He wasn’t going to take offense that this frightened little creature had thought him a myth, a legend, something made-up but he was very real.

“It is lucky, then, that I go where I please.”

He moved, then, a ripple of power not unlike the fabled Gods of old and Monica tried to shrink into herself; his white robes, his jacket and layers whispered against themselves, against powerful legs, as his cloven hooves thundered against her floor.

“Is there nothing you wish for, then, Monica? Nothing I can give you?”

Monica could only shake her head helplessly, wide eyes on him.

“Not even to know my name?”

“I-I,” Monica had to clear her throat twice to work up the courage to speak to him. “I-I’m not supposed t-to ask your name.”

“That is only if you were performing my summoning ritual. I came here of my own free will.” The demon closed the distance between them further with an additional step. “You may ask my name.”

This seemed like a trap, but it also seemed...dangerous to not do what he so obviously wanted her to do. He was standing, towering over her at the side of her bed, those silver eyes of his running over her flesh so that she could feel him everywhere--he was touching her arms, her throat, her chest, her belly, between her thighs. He was everywhere.

“W-What...W-What’s your n-name?”

“I am Sannok, the Satisfier. The one who grants wishes, the one who answers the questions of mortals. I give, so you may have.” Sannok lifted one of his legs, indenting Monica’s bed with his ancient weight, giving her a taste of how big he truly was. He was not simply taller than she; his entire mass seemed larger, as if he were something not bound by the laws of humans. Something...inhuman. “Tell me, Monica, what else might I give you?”

That question held such a caress in it’s undertone Monica’s head was filled with the wonderful, terrible things Sannok could offer her. Nights so full of him she was swollen with the physicality of his claim, her middle full to the point of pain and still he filled her, claimed her, still he fitted his ancient mouth over hers and spoke to her in a language that knew her intimately, claiming her in the same way a brand sears flesh to scar for all time.

Sannok pressed Monica back against her pillows, forcing her small body to bend to try and avoid him and all he did was smirk, a showing of sharp teeth designed to feed, to mark, and his spaded tail slipped up her leg, pressing against the center of her thighs. The moment she and her friend had begun reading his ritual, Sannok became aware of Monica, aware of this supple, unclaimed body and he burned with a need for her. Humanity does not understand the rules of demons, of who and why they choose to reveal themselves but she will, in time. Every mortal woman who bends, bows, and breaks for her demons learns that in time. One day, her middle will swell with the unholy seed of him, and she will know then she’s forever lost, forever bound to him and him alone. One of his ancient, mighty hands came down upon her phone, crushing it as he bore down on her, a showing of possession that whomever this Jason Todd was would not have her. No one else would ever have her again. Demons mate for eternity, for life beyond life, and Sannok has been waiting longer than most to be...satisfied.

“You needn’t tremble so, my love.” Sannok’s sharp-tipped tail flicked playfully against her covered clit, his words a sharp contrast to his actions. Mindful of his sharp horns, Sannok leaned down to rest his cheek against her temple before turning to inhale her scent, committing it to memory. “In time, my size will not frighten you so. I promise, I will fit.”

It was no secret what he meant by this, and Monica was left with the understanding that Sannok was about to seal some sort of deal in a very permanent, possibly painful way, if all of him was as big as the clothed parts. She tried to shy away from his nuzzling but his large hand came up, cupping the back of her neck and holding her to him.

“Shh, shh.” He soothed, laying her back against her mattress. “Don’t fret, love. I will make you so happy, you’ll see.”

Monica could hardly think with him so close, dwarfing her as his heavy, ancient muscles pinned her effortlessly to the bed. This was something out of a nightmare, and what she was learning now, is what those demonologists, those paranormal experts don’t even know--demons want many things from humans but most important is what they can never have without humanity.

Love.

That is why demons are so hard to get rid of, why they cling on so tightly and become violent when attempted to be exorcised. You wouldn’t want to leave your true love either, would you?

“I-I,” Monica struggled to remember, to recall the only thing that could save her, now. What was it she was supposed to say?!

“You what, my beautiful girl?” Sannok’s forked tongue sampled her cheek, a rasp of velvet. “Tell me what it is you want.”

“I-I want you to l-leave n-now.”

Sannok froze, before slowly drawing back, all six of those silver eyes raking over Monica’s face until she turned from him but she could still feel him staring. How could he not? She was...everything, and she seemed so afraid her words had upset him. His rough fingers were soft against her cheek as he stroked lightly, a smile curving dark skin until his sharp teeth caught her room lights.

“My love, I have already told you. You did not summon me.” His fingers flattened against her chest, pushing her fully back against her yielding mattress. “You have no power to banish me, and why would you? When I can give you so much.”

Sannok accented his words with another insistent push of his tail between her legs, earning him a whine that he’d remember for centuries to come.

“All you have to do is say you’re mine.”

Monica clamped her teeth together, knowing that was to give herself up for all time.

“No? Unwilling to give yourself to me so soon, are you?” Sannok did not sound the slightest bit worried as he blanketed her body with his, a heated exhale against her mouth making her whimper. “No matter. I will return to you, night after night, until you give yourself up into my care, for all eternity. I will have you, Monica. It’s only a matter of time.”

Monica wanted to cry out as Sannok kissed her, tasting of raw power and sin, so that her eyes fluttered closed, his tail pushing her pajama shorts to the side to find her weeping core. He fed her shame, drank from it as he did her mouth, as demons are known to do. He took from her mouth enough to hold him over until he could make good on his promise to return the next night, but Monica was made aware almost immediately he was just beginning to know her, to explore her body and lay claim to it, as his fingers joined his tail at the apex of her thighs.

“Allow me to satisfy you this night, my love. To show you what you have to look forward to for the rest of your mortal life.” Sannok spoke against her mouth, that serpent’s tongue caressing the seal of her lips. “And once you trade in this mortal life for the next...well. Who do you think will be waiting for you on the other side?”

#{theme} : for monica #{collection} : january 2019 #{ yeah i saw that gif and got inspired } #{ so yeah that's what this is } #{character} : sannok

[sapphiresassenach]

A Far Away Infinity

There probably will only be one more chapter and then an epilogue after this! The next update will probably be in another week because its finals and I am swamped. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Part 1 2 3 4 5

Part 6 // Truth and lies and regrets //

~Five Years Earlier~

Time dragged on in a sluggish fashion after Jamie left. The days distracted her but the nights were lonely and dark as she ached for someone who was now across the world, away from her forever.

In the months he had been away, she had started med school and that filled a small void. It gave her motivation to get up in the morning and not sit in bed and sob for the things that she threw away. But on the weekends, she had to fight the urge to get on the first planes out of Scotland and go in search of the sun-burnt red head in California.

She would pull up the airline site, she would search for times, she would pick her flights and then her curser would hover above the blue button of “book.” And then she would imagine all the infinite possibilities of hitting that blue button, all the things that could change the course of her life.

Would he be happy to see her or mad? Would his face light up when she showed up on his apartment doorstep? Or would it be too late?

In her wildest dreams, he would see her. He would see her and then run to her. Eyes locked and heart pounding, he was running to her and then she would know nothing but warmth and the safety of the embrace of her love.

But the curser still blinked and the blue bottom remained untouched. The laptop closed and she replaced it with a textbook and so another weekend went by with her silenced dream placed silently on the shelf again with other lost things.

 ~Present~

 The small room was cramped and the air was freezing. She had permanent goose bumps, but not all because of the air. Normally, doctors didn’t frighten her, but when one of the new doctors came into to Jamie’s room, she felt herself start to shake a little.

“Well, it looks like Jamie will regain the full function of his hand over time. The ring finger may be stiff though, but we have every reason to belief that he will make a full recovery.”

The breath everyone in the room had been holding released in one collective sigh of relief. Jenny smiled at back at her and Brian smiled for the first time since she had seen him, placing a skinny hand on Jamie’s shoulder.

Jenny had told Jamie that Brian looked terrible because of the stress of Jamie’s accident, not willing to risk his recovery due to the news that their father was dying. She knew Jamie didn’t quite believe it but didn’t want to make Jenny more upset than she was.

“He will need a caretaker for the first few weeks. Someone to help while he recovers. We’d like him in bed for at least another two weeks.”

The room went silence for a beat before Jenny spoke up. “Aye, aye. It won’t be the first time I’ve taken care of ye, brother. And I dare say it won��t be the last.”

Jamie rolled his eyes at Jenny’s look, but glanced at her from the corner of his eye, asking her a silent question. She smiled at him reassuringly, trying her best to comfort him.

 “And I’ll be there, Dr.,” Jenny and Brian both glanced at her declaration. Brian with his ghost eyes and Jenny with a brow drawn up in question.

 The Dr. cleared his throat and nodded while retreating to the door. “Good. Good. It will be helpful to have someone with medical experience there for a bit.” 

He smiled at her before glancing back at Jamie. “You’re lucky to be alive, Mr. Fraser. I suggest you remember that.”

Jamie nodded and looked to her again with something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite identify. “Dinna worry, Dr. I will.”

Jamie was released from the hospital the next day and was under strict instructions not to fly. A part of her heart felt light at the news, he couldn’t be going back to California. At least not for a little while.

The greeting he got at Lallybroch’s door warmed her heart. She hadn’t seen Jenny’s children before, nor how much they loved their beloved uncle.

“Uncle, uncle!”

“No jumping on him, wee Jamie! He’s still healing,” Jenny’s voice ran clear and loud despite the fact that she was out in the yard still, helping bring in the bags. She smiled and hoisted up a bag from the trunk while her phone ran for the second time today. 

She didn’t need to look, she knew it was Frank. He had been trying to contact her and she had tried to be clear. It was over and they both needed to move on. 

A soft tap on her shoulder made her jump out of her thoughts and back into the present.

“Ian!”

 He smiled at her, once of those smiles that could melt you from the inside. He gave her a warm hug and it was the most welcome she had felt in a long while.

“It’s good to see ye, Claire.”

 “You too, Ian. I’ve missed it.”

 He smiled at her and glanced back to where Jenny was trying to prevent her children from smothering their uncle as he walked in the door. “Aye, I suppose ye have.”

A routine developed the next week at Lallybroch as it always does. No matter how strange of circumstances, there always is some constant each day as she had learned over the course of her nomadic life.

She mostly kept to herself as Jamie healed. He slept a great deal, after developing a fever from a minor infection. She checked on him, cared for his hand and back, made sure he took his medications. But when there was no more to do, she walked the fields of Lallybroch, taking in the valleys and hills and the sunsets that she used to watch with Jamie in college.

Nostalgia was powerful and she wanted nothing more than to lay down in the grassy hills and dissolve into the land that she once thought would be her forever home. A place for her and Jamie. Just a place to call home.

She spoke to Jenny a little during the week, but helped her with the little ones, admiring the split between Jenny and Ian. A little part of her felt Jenny was hurt when she stopped visiting, but how could she explain? 

Brian had been avoiding her for the most part, keeping to himself in his study and visiting with Jamie.

So, when he was waiting for her in the living room after she came back from her usual sunset walk, she was intrigued.

 He motioned for her to sit on the sofa across from him, a gesture so like the one he had done that had torn her life apart.

Sighing, she sat as straight as a rod and placed her hands in her lap. He was silent for a long while before clearing his throat.

 “I owe ye an apology, Claire,” his voice was again tired and aged, the deep lines in his face growing stronger as he took a deep breath and finally looked her in the eye for the first time.

 She said nothing. Just waited.

 “I told Jamie in the hospital about what I did,” he wrung his hands in his lap. “I dinna ken if he heard.”

He leaned forward, trying to reach out to her but holding himself back. “You see-

He tried to begin, but the words failed him. She watched him struggle for the right ones, the ones that would erase the past. But there were not enough powerful words in the world to undo time. 

“I kent I was dyin’ then, Claire.”

It was hard not to feel pity for him. He looked a man very much beaten down. By everything. It was hard to stay mad when he was trying to think out the best life for Jamie. Even if it wasn’t the life he had wanted.

“Why did you wait so long to tell everyone?”

He smiled sadly at the fire and shook his head, glancing up at the bedrooms where his children and grandchildren resided.

“I didna want to be a burden. Jenny was starting to have her barins,” his voice got quieter as he shut his eyes, unable to look at her. “I didna want Jamie to come home.” 

“Why? Why was it so important to you, that he left?” The anger in her voice was audible to her and she knew to him, but she had to let him know just an once of the pain he had caused her these last years. 

His head, which was once a full scalp of dark hair, was now streaked heavily with grey, nodded as if to confirm that he knew what he had inflicted on her. 

“You want more for your children. You’ll understand one day. Jamie always said he would run this place happily. He never complained about it and I never gave much thought as to why he shouldn’t, but when I found out about the cancer,” he looked to me pleadingly, tears in his eyes. It took every bit of strength for her not to run over and comfort him. The amount of pain that shown through his eyes was almost too much to bear.

“I wanted more for him than my life. Not that it was bad, I wouldna trade it for the world, but I wanted him to experience…more, ye ken?”

His eye drifted to the wooden globe in the corner. Jamie had told her once it had been passed down for five generations before his father and mother. 

“That’s why I needed him to go so badly, in part to live the life I never saw, and for him to be happy. But now I realize he might have been happier here with ye.”

And with eyes swimming with regret and grief and sadness and all the other dark things, his last words were filled with potent emotion.

“I’m sorry, truly.”

Brian’s words ran through her mind all night as she lay awake in bed, tossing and turning to the tune of the storm outside, echoing her inner turmoil. She forgave him. She had too. That’s the thing about impending death, it makes everything all too final.

 One part of her wanted to tell Jamie the whole truth. To explain to him why she made the choice she did. But how could she?

Pressing her cheek against the cool side of the pillow in her guest bed that Jenny had made up for her, she prayed to the universe for some kind of clarity.

 “My father is sick, ye ken?”

She paused for a moment, setting down this steaming bowl of chicken soup Jenny had made fresh that morning on Jamie’s bedside.

“Yes, I know. Jenny told me.”

But she didn’t know just how much he knew about the sickness. Whether he knew that the time Brian had left was fleeting or whether his diagnosis had been the catalyst for his decision to “suggest” she let him go to California.

“Well, it’s when yer sick, I think, it causes all the regrets ye have to puir out of ye.”

She smiled at his accent as she pulled up a chair next to his bed. It had dulled a little since his move to the states, but here, in his homelands, it was as thick as ever.

“Yes, I’ve seen it happen in patients.”

She reached to touch him but held her hand back before making contact. Their touches had been tentative since they had come back to Lallybroch, both dancing in repetitive circles of light grazes and small squeezes.

“He told me about some of his regrets,” his words were carefully chosen as he reached for her hand. The beam of sunlight from the window illuminated them twined together on the bed sheet. He smiled at this sight and brushed his thumb against the back of her hand. 

“Well, he thought he was telling me while I was asleep, but I heard.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

There was a long pause. A pause that neither one could bare but neither seemed to know how to end. So, she turned to the one thing she knew with certainty and went to inspect his injured hand.

His gaze unnerved her as she sat, looking at the area. Finally, he broke the silence.

“I dinna ken everything while I was in the coma, mind ye. I’m no sure what was a dream and what wasn’t.”

He spoke casually, looking down at the blankets Jenny had smothered him with, playing with the end of the hand-knit yarn. The distant sounds of the running farm echoed through the open window as she poked and prodded.

“What are you trying to figure out? I’ll help…no, hold it this way,” she said as she carefully unravel his dressings. 

“Alright….Ouch!... did ye tell me that you were the one who broke all my records freshman year and no Rupert?”

She laughed as she inspected his hand, looking good for the state of it. She had told him a lot while he was unconscious and now was slightly afraid of what he heard. “Yes, that’s true. Sorry.”

He made a “mphm” noise and a wince as she cleansed the wound with rubbing alcohol.

“Did Jenny complained about wind from her curry take out?”

 She laughed again while looking at him, his eyes full of mischief in the sunlight creeping in from the window.

“Can’t confirm the wind, but she did have some curry, I smelt it in that room for two days.”

Jamie smiled at her as he watched her wrap of his hand in clean bandages, squinting in concentration.

“Ye love me,” he said abruptly, watching her face carefully as he spoke, seeing every emotion she tried to show and hide.

“You know I do,” she smiled and looked back down at his hand, trying to play it casual, not knowing what he meant or what he heard.

A finger brought her face back up to look at him as he shook his head slowly.

 “No… ye…ye said ye dinna want me to leave, that ye wanted to marry me and have my children,” he paused, out of breath to find her truth in her glass eyes. “That kind of love, did ye mean it?”

“Yes...yes I did.”

Later, she thought it funny how a single word, a single sound, could alter the whole course of her life. The whole future changed in one millisecond as the sound left her mouth, forever altering the universe in one breath of “yes.”

Continued here

#outlander #outlander fanfic #a far away infinity #my fanfic #jamie and claire #modern au #outlander fanfiction

[bobbystompy]

My Top 127 Songs Of 2018

Previously: 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011

Not the most ever... just the second most ever. The record of 132 stands. I hope it is never broken.

As always, criteria and info:

This is a list of what I personally like, not ones I’m saying are the “best” from the year; more subjective than objective

No artist is featured more than once

If it comes down to choosing between two songs, I try to give more weight to a single or featured track

Each song on the list is linked in the title if you wanna check any or every out for yourself; there is also a Spotify playlist at the bottom that includes 122 of the 127 songs

Well?

/grins

127) B.o.B - “Food Fight”

Some triplet rap, pretty boring, and I have no idea what this song is supposed to be. But the “Food of the WiFi” part makes me laugh, and I always picture my buddy Matto singing it to his eye rolling wife (even though I’m pretty sure he’s never heard the song before).

126) French Montana f/ Drake - “No Stylist”

This song sucks -- even Drake can’t save it. French Montana is cancer except you don’t get to die.

125) 21 Savage - “Monster”

Not a huge Savage guy, but the Gambino verse helps.

124) The Kooks - “All The Time”

Kind of a lazy chorus, but it’s aight.

123) Sean Paul f/ Jhené Aiko - “Naked Truth”

Love Aiko, have never cared for Paul... but the collab weirdly works.

122) REASON - “Summer Up”

My buddy Josh sent this one, and it’s got the warm vibes. Money stretch:

P asked me is REASON still workin', shit N***a, is Amber Rose still twerkin', gold diggers still flirtin' horny teens still jerkin', all my exes still lurkin' black lives still hurtin', black lives still hurtin'?

121) Nipsey Hussle f/ YG - “Last Time That I Checc’d”

B’s vs. C’s. And a beat that sounds like DJ Mustard combined with ‘90s G-funk. Also, YG’s bandanna scarf is just very cute.

120) Thrice - “Only Us”

Weirdly, another reds and blues music video. But this time, it’s kids at a summer camp. This could absolutely be used by networks as a pump up song for sporting events.

119) Anderson .Paak f/ Kendrick Lamar - “TINTS”

Anderson .Paak -- ohhhh, that dot will always annoy me -- really does not make bad songs. Kung Fu Kenny fits right in, and it’s a very easy hit-the-spot driving song.

118) Mr Hudson f/ Vic Mensa - “Coldplay”

A serious song that uses an emotional reliance on Coldplay to take objective shots at Coldplay, which is pretty hilarious. Vic’s verse is good (”I lost my Queen poppin’ Ace of Spades at King of Diamonds ... I hate Coldplay”).

117) Logic f/ Wu-Tang Clan - “Wu Tang Forever”

Long cypher song. If you care about hip-hop, you probably know Drake also released a song called “Wu-Tang Forever” five years ago (which featured no members of Wu-Tang). There was talk of a remix -- RZA even recently said he wished they did -- but Inspectah Deck articulated why it didn’t happen back then:

“When I finally got to hear the song, I was more or less like, ‘Wow, I thought it was a tribute song like, it would be in respect of all eight members,'” Deck said. “And when I heard it, it was about a girl.”

You can just sense the colossal and spiritual disappointment.

Well, this one is more about fire than females; you’ll shout “Wu-Tang” proudly at least once. My MVP verse is Ghostface.

116) Jhené Aiko f/ Rae Sremmurd - “Sativa”

Rae Sremmurd* still sound like little kids to me. Conversely, Jhené Aiko is all that is woman.

(* - never knew they were brothers until just now)

115) Sam Coffey & The Iron Lungs - “First Time”

Sam Coffey first got on my radar with The Clash-sounding song “Talk 2 Her”. This is less of that and more, like, ‘80s hair metal. It’s almost hard to tell if this is sincere or parody. The video absolutely does not take itself seriously.

114) Saves The Day - “Kerouac & Cassady”

Always been impressed with the very unthreatening Chris Conley’s ability to create such sinister, dark, and menacing imagery. This maybe has the most bleak closing line of any of these songs.

113) 5 Seconds Of Summer - “Youngblood”

This is what Fall Out Boy tries to sound like with their new stuff... but they just suck so bad now.

112) She Killed In Ecstasy - “Dissension (Gold)”

I remembered this being a dope instrumental before totally forgetting about the just-as-awesome vocals; great band name, too. Recommended by my friends Jim and Bill over brunch after taking in their show at Subterranean in Chicago the previous night. This could be the closing theme for a critically acclaimed TV show.

111) Night Birds - “My Dad Is The BTK”

Straightforward, bratty punk rock that promotes snitching (if you’re sure it’s for the right reasons).

110) The Decemberists - “Once In My Life”

Why does such an outwardly melancholy song still feel so damn uplifting? Probably the video. They have a long statement attached on YouTube, so for sure peep if this catches your interest.

109) Mad Caddies - “She’s Gone”

Here we have a straight up reggae cover of NOFX. Sometimes I don’t think I like this song at all, but it might just be hard to separate it from the original; almost wish it was possible to go in with a clean slate. Maybe you can on my behalf?

108) Rivers Cuomo - “Two Broken Hearts”

Would you rather not know the video uses Bitmojis or the pre-chorus promotes two different ice cream brands before the song ends?

107) XXXTENTACION - “Train food”

This song is intense; gave me memories of listening to Kendrick’s “The Art of Peer Pressure”. X not surviving 2018 makes it that much more haunting.

106) Kanye West & Lil Pump f/ Adele Givens - “I Love It”

Not sure why, in his most embattled year yet, Kanye decided to be a part of such a derogatory song towards women. Listening to it makes me feel bad. And sure, the MAGA imagery will be what we think of when we think of 2018 Yeezy, but this picture shouldn’t be too far off either.

Shark: jumped.

105) New Lenox - “Do You Think We Made The Most Of Those New Years Eves”

That is a very long song title. But not as long as the time since passed on this reflection of the final night of the year, over a decade now gone. But even though he’s looking back, you know Chris Trott gets to hit reset at the end of the night, whether it’s December 31st or January 1st. And when NYE hits again, whether you return to the same party in the same place or a different experience in a totally different hemisphere, celebrating something is what makes this all matter.

(Full disclosure: yours truly has a minor backup vocal part in the outro)

104) Jeff Tweedy - “Having Been Is No Way To Be”

This for sure made it on the list because of the “And if I was dead, what difference would it ever make to them?” line, but upon closer scrutiny, the “And I’m sorry when you wake up to me” line is even more crushing.

103) Panic! At The Disco - “Dying In LA”

Brendon Urie’s voice is so polished and full. This song is him in complete control, and he knows it too (the “Dyin’ in LA” falsetto part at the end of the chorus is... probably not necessary).

102) Sugarland f/ Taylor Swift - “Babe”

Though Taylor’s impact in the music video is significantly stronger than her impact in the actual song, it’s still rock solid country. Or... country solid country?

/curtsies

101) ZHU & Tame Impala - “My Life”

This song has such a dancy cool on the power of its instrumentation; really doesn’t need vocals at all.

100) Kidd Russell & Southside Jake - “Slow Motion”

The poppiest SSJ has ever sounded. This is his best song to date. I’m not so sure if “Shots kill the butterflies” is an actual expression, but it should be.

99) Hop Along - “What The Writer Meant”

Hot damn, what a voice. This song is beauty in our not-often-beautiful world.

98) Retirement Party - “That’s How People Die”

This reminds me of a female fronted version of the departed Modern Baseball. Eager to see how they develop and definitely plan on checking their Audiotree session soon.

97) Lil Peep - “Sex With My Ex”

It’s... really good, you guys. The grimy nihilism of the “Fuck me like we’re lying on our deathbed” is palpable. It’s impossible not to think of the heights Peep would have almost definitely hit had he not passed. Also, super interesting tidbit on how the album got posthumously made:

Lil Peep died of an accidental drug overdose last November [2017] at 21. Afterward, attention turned to his computer. First, it went to London, where the files were backed up by First Access Entertainment, the company that helped guide his career.

Then it went to his mother, Liza Womack. In an interview in her cozy Long Island home, sitting on a nondescript couch that belonged to Peep and was shipped cross-country after his death, she calmly recalled walking into an Apple store, handing the laptop to a clerk, and saying: “My son died. This is him. Take this and put it on a new one.”

96) Kurt Vile - “Bassackwards”

I was on the beach, but I was thinkin’ about the bay

This has Kurt Vile’s signature laid back-ness (good) but also has a 9:46 track length (VERY VERY BAD). I’m not saying it has to be even four minutes long... but, like, could you have given us seven, KV? All of that aside, it really doesn’t slog at all despite mostly staying the same the whole time. Though I still can’t stop thinking about how much shorter it should be.

95) Christine And The Queens - “Doesn’t matter”

Kinda ‘80s pop sounding. Also, there’s a foreign accent there. British maybe?

/googles

French! Even better.

94) Brendan Kelly And The Wandering Birds - “Shitty Margarita”

Wish the drums were louder, BK.

93) Courtney Barnett - “Nameless, Faceless”

Barnett does not fuck around with her chorus/old adage:

I wanna walk through the park in the dark Men are scared that women will laugh at them I wanna walk through the park in the dark Women are scared that men will kill them

This type of perspective, down to the description of how she has to hold her keys in a way your average dude might not think about, remains so crucial as we all hope to continue to better understand each other.

92) Jeff Rosenstock - “Powerlessness”

Meet me at the Polish bar I'll be the one looking at my phone Shaking like a nervous kid Absolutely terrified of being alone

...it doesn’t sound how it reads. All of his skittish energy fuels this fist pumping jam. And don’t miss the guitar solo.

91) Charli XCX - “5 In The Morning”

Pretty standard fare pop song, but Charli makes it cooler and better than if the average person jumped on.

90) Pinegrove - “Darkness”

Gonna be honest: it was nearly impossible to listen to Pinegrove in 2018 without thinking of the sexual coercion accusations from the previous year. Jenn Pelly’s long ass piece really did nothing to help matters. So because of all this, I listened to their new album “Skylight” wayyyyy less than originally anticipated. The few times -- really maybe ‘time’ in all actuality -- I was able to separate the story from the songs, it definitely became enjoyable. This has head clearing guitar leads and a lyric straight outta Sublime’s “Garden Grove”.

89) Pete Yorn & Scarlett Johansson - “Bad Dreams”

Brooding, nighttime, driving; good ingredients for a successful duet.

88) Meek Mill f/ Rick Ross & JAY Z - “What’s Free”

Now, if I’m Rick Ross, I spend my entire career avoiding any situation where people can compare me to Biggie. But since Rick Ross is Rick Ross, he went with the opposite plan. This is his (to my knowledge) second reimagined Biggie song*, and... it’s... it’s rough. I mean, how far can you take it with the line “Mona Lisa, to me, ain't nothin' but a b***h” and end with a gay slur. Pass.

But we also have the GOAT. In classic Jay fashion, he spits a lot of good words, you know it’s complex, and there’s no way to process it without more listens. And yes, the immediate brand checks are super annoying, but he pushes through and delivers some bars:

They gave us pork and pig intestines Shit you discarded that we ingested, we made the project a wave You came back, reinvested and gentrified it Took n****s' sense of pride, now how that's free?

When he finishes, the song itself ends, and we have one of the more long and uneven Jay cameos ever put on wax. It’s, like, a 5-star B-.

(* -  the first being 2014′s “Nobody”, a take off “You’re Nobody [Til Somebody Kills You]”, featuring French Montana, which spawned an all-time Rap Radar comment, “If someone killed French, he’d still be a nobody”; I will bring it up with the most minor of segues for the rest of my life)

87) Red City Radio - “In The Shadows”

I tend to prefer Red City Radio playing more uptempo, but they drag us down to a slower speed for this one. This centers around the cryptic “I show no fear when I know that the devil’s here” line, and the guitar solo is definitely overqualified for the genre.

86) Kanye West - “Yikes”

/cracks knuckles

The song: banging chorus, solid beat, lyrics meh. Of course it was the song he got Drake for, because it’s the only one on his solo release that vaguely resembled a hit.

The album: Calling “ye” bad is a little unfair, but the best and realest description is sadder: it’s Kanye’s most inessential record. It was forgettable at best and cringeworthy/offensive at worst. The one about his daughter was particularly appalling:

Don't do no yoga, don't do pilates Just play piano and stick to karate I pray your body's draped more like mine And not like your mommy's

This doesn’t even get into the entirely warped mental health takes that I’m not nearly qualified enough to address.

Kanye himself: Every Kanye fan has defended Kanye, some Kanye fans have abandoned Kanye, but 2018 was legitimately the tipping point where it felt like we all finally had enough, in unification. Shock, betrayal, and disappointment are probably the best adjectives. When you are willing to forgive someone for 90% of their behavior, and they up their bullshit to 110%, an understandable separation must occur. At this point, the man we once called Yeezus is now the hip-hop Louis C.K.: no type of constructive or negative feedback can penetrate his brain, and any new attempts at creative output only make everything worse.

85) Royce da 5′9′’ f/ Eminem & King Green - “Caterpillar”

As lyrical as it gets on this list, but what else do you expect from Em and Royce? Not a huge fan of the chorus (at least that loud part in the first half). Eminem legit goes off for, like, ten lines with a pooping metaphor to close the song.

84) Nicki Minaj - “Barbie Dreams”

Staying in the redone Biggie songs lane, we have Nicki with a passive evisceration of your favorite male rapper. You can call it crass, but I’d argue her playfulness makes the whole thing work, combined with the fact that it’s flipping the male gaze on its head. And though she’s having fun, some of these movie punches catch real faces. My favorites:

3) “Drake worth a hundred mill, he always buyin' me shit / But I don't know if the pussy wet or if he cryin' and shit”

2) “I remember when I used to have a crush on Special Ed / Shoutout Desiigner 'cause he made it out of special ed”

1) “Had to cancel DJ Khaled, boy, we ain't speakin' / Ain't no fat n**** tellin' me what he ain't eatin'”

Goodbye forever, DJ Khaled.

83) Bad Bunny f/ Drake - “MIA”

I do social media for my high school alma mater’s football team, and this song first got on my radar when of the players tweeted something like “I can’t understand a word, but this is really good”. I was piqued, and it delivered. Nobody cultural appropriates quite like Drizzy Drake. Also, am I the only one who would have maybe been happier if the song was called “Bad Bunny” and the featured artist was M.I.A.?

82) Phoebe Bridgers - “Christmas Song”

Christmas songs are hard to write because they’re either taken or terrible, but Bridgers definitely carved out her own lane. This could work as a single person under a spotlight or sung by a group of lonely strangers finding camaraderie at a bar; within the song, you actually get both scenarios.

81) Remo Drive - “Blue Ribbon”

Got into this band for the first time in 2018, and though some of their older songs got more spins, this was my favorite from the new album.

80) The Sidekicks - “Twin’s Twist”

Mostly just impressed they were able to seamlessly integrate the “Chronic 2001″ into lyrics of a lighter rock song.

79) Real Friends - “From The Outside”

My favorite chorus they’ve ever written. While remaining thoroughly pop punk, the catchiness puts it more on the pop side of that spectrum.

78) Mike Posner - “Song About You”

Posner sounds like he’s barely trying, and it’s still so, so good. Favorite moment is this non-rhyme: “Since you’ve been gone, I got nothing to do / I sleep until noon, I wake up and feel bad”. It’s like a pop freestyle or something.

Also, extra shout out for how well he took his social media roasting after the Thanksgiving performance in Detroit. Love this dude.

77) Bad Religion - “The Kids Are Alt-Right”

What if I told you Bad Religion made a song with an intro that sounded like Andrew W.K.’s “Party Till You Puke” but were somehow still able to stay afloat? Hell, I’m confused too. The satirical lyrics mark 2018 for what it was. The pre-chorus, I remain torn on.

76) Blood Orange - “Saint”

You said it before

Looped keyboard beat over some smooth lyrics and melodies.

75) Juice WRLD - “Lucid Dreams”

I cannot change you so I must replace you

Still unclear how this *isn’t* a Post Malone song.

74) Tancred - “Queen Of New York”

Own the city.

73) We Were Sharks - “Drop The Act”

Ohhhhh, I love this production.

72) Cloud Nothings - “Leave Him Now”

This band continues to possess all of the melodic fury (and the Russell Westbrook of drummers).

71) Childish Gambino - “Summertime Magic”

Wasn’t big on “This Is America”*, so Glover releasing an ode to the best season as an alternative selection helped.

(* - at least not the song; vid was interesting)

70) The 1975 - “Love It If We Made It”

The 1975 are one of those bands where liking them makes you feel like an alien because everyone else either loves or dogs them. I’m keepin’ this casual, aight?

Also, since all writers are contractually obligated, we must mention the “Fucking in a car, shooting heroin” line which opens the song.

69) Kississippi - “Cut Yr Teeth”

Saw this band play in a classroom at a high school (google “BLED FEST”) in Michigan in May of 2018. They were fun, diverse, and covered Jimmy Eat World’s “The Middle”. This tune is a little more serious and locked in.

68) Muncie Girls - “Picture Of Health”

Every part of this song is well-written, but it all builds to a massive chorus.

67) Justin Timberlake f/ Chris Stapleton - “Say Something”

There was a time, in January 2018, when not a ton of music had dropped yet, and this song was everywhere. It was like the dead-of-winter equivalent to the Song of the Summer. This one definitely gets docked some points for what I’d call weak lyricism. You can tell both dudes were way into it though, which does help make up for it some.

66) Interpol - “The Rover”

As speedy as I’ve ever heard Interpol; pretty unskippable.

65) Dashboard Confessional - “Catch You”

Imagine if this were the only Dashboard song you’d ever heard. You’d think they were, like, happy. Our protagonist has a trustworthy assurance that should put you at ease.

64) Gulfer - “Secret Stuff”

No singing on this list will alienate you faster than the first eight seconds of this one.

63) Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever - “Talking Straight”

Though this feels like two band names in one, RBCF know exactly what they’re doing as it pertains to the actual songwriting. This would fit right in during the mid-2000s garage/indie rock boom; could listen to the chorus on a loop.

62) Rita Ora f/ Cardi B, Bebe Rexha & Charli XCX - “Girls”

This song has the unique distinction of being think pieced and outraged cycled before I even got a chance to hear a second of it. The case:

Now, it goes without saying that the best people to explain why this song feels damaging and hurtful to queer women are queer women themselves – girls who kiss girls whether they’ve been gulping back Malbec or not. “A song like this just fuels the male gaze while marginalizing the idea of women loving women,” wrote Hayley Kiyoko on Twitter. Kehlani said it has “many awkward slurs, quotes, and moments”. MUNA’s Katie Gavin noted that in ‘Girls’ she hears “the familiar chorus that women’s sexuality is something to be looked at instead of authentically felt”.

To her credit, Ora apologized the very same day that piece came out (PUN INTENDED). What’s weird is the idea of this song being problematic made me like it more. It gives the sexual flippancy of the chorus authenticity. I don’t know, man -- this stuff is complicated.

Not complicated? Cardi B’s awful green screen cameo featuring cheap looking special effects.

/shakes head in disappointment 

61) Eminem f/ Ed Sheeran - “River”

Though not apples to apples -- since he’s not spitting -- we shall remember this as the time Ed Sheeran > Eminem in a song.

Marshall remains our unquestioned king of the ‘relationship dysfunction’ genre.

60) Culture Abuse - “Calm E”

Everyone’s getting back together

The writers of the perfect and generational “Dream On” continue to stay in the mellow lane with their subsequent releases. When you can pull off both, why not?

59) Brian Fallon - “Silence”

Fallon covers -- /checks notes --  Marshmello f/ Khalid, but it really could be an original. Dude really knows how to pick ‘em. I remember hearing this randomly at Shinto (a sushi/hibachi place) in Naperville; don’t remember if it was this or the original. Such a moving chorus.

58) Okkervil River - “Don’t Move Back To LA”

Gotta appreciate the persistent sentiment -- even though it’d be the opposite of my advice. Also took about 99.9% of the year for me to stop calling this band “Overkill” River in my head.

57) Natalie Prass - “Short Court Style”

Uber catchy and with a real groove.

56) The Interrupters - “She’s Kerosene”

2018 Rancid, down to the raspy-ish singing from Aimee Allen.

55) boygenius - “Me & My Dog”

When I heard Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers, and someone named Lucy Dacus were forming a super group, I was stoked. This tune was the one that jived the most with my vision of the project. Amazingly sick harmonies, dropping elbows on your heart like a professional wrestler, and introspection on introspection.

I wanna be emaciated I wanna hear one song without thinking of you I wish I was on a spaceship Just me and my dog and an impossible view

So, so, so, so good.

54) Shack Wes - “Mo Bamba”

How do you explain “Mo Bamba” to someone who doesn’t like rap? How do you explain “Mo Bamba” to someone who does like rap? I don’t know, but I am Teddy Bridgewater now.

53) Lil Dicky f/ Chris Brown, Ed Sheeran, DJ Khaled & Kendall Jenner - “Freaky Friday”

If you thought Rita Ora’s “Girls” was messy, allow me to introduce you to our last bad rap song on the list. Actually, maybe the Virginia Tech women’s lacrosse team would be a better candid--OHHHHH LADIES NO!!!!!!!!11111111

So yeah, whether it’s the most lightning rod word in American history, cultural appropriation, reverse cultural appropriation, or even just a good ol’ “I Blame Chris Brown” take, this attempt at comedy hip-hop got put under a microscope for all the right and wrong reasons. No one came out unscathed. But, like Ora’s song, if you can ignore some components (read: nearly everything), it’s so god damn fun, man. I mean, Dicky and Chris Brown swapped bodies -- pretty nuts. And it’s rare for an MVP line to be “How his dick staying perched up on his balls like that?”

52) Jay Rock f/ Kendrick Lamar, Future & James Blake - “King’s Dead”

I gotta go get it- I gotta go get it- I gotta go get it- I gotta go get it

The back half of the Future verse is the worst part about this song... yet the most fun to talk about. He raps auto-tuned, in falsetto... and these are the lyrics:

La di da di da, slob on me knob Pass me some syrup, fuck me in the car La di da di da, mothafuck the law Chitty chitty bang, murder everything

What a disgrace. Yet, almost like a whimsy 2 Chainz verse, it’s really fucking memorable.

51) Soccer Mommy - “Your Dog”

Noticeably good bassline? Check. Skin crawlingly bad band name? Check. Cool swearing? Yup.

50) Vince Staples - “FUN!”

Vince could rap his way out a bottomless pit; floating elevation flow.

49) Dan + Shay - “Tequila”

Tried so hard to get this one next to “Shitty Margarita”. Genuinely love this song. Maybe it’s the mountains in the music video, but that chorus just soars.

48) Meg Myers - “Numb”

Look up in the air and see this tidal wave chorus crashing through the world in slow motion.

47) The Penske File - “Fairgrounds”

My new working theory -- which really feels more like fact -- is how cool lyrics with the phrase “Meet me...” are. It creates this aura of unknown, mystery, and maybe even danger; like anything could happen if you just agree. Here are some from songs just off the top of my head:

Meet me by the lake

Meet me at the reservoir

Meet me in Montauk

Meet me in the middle (more on that one later)

Meet me in the back

Meet me at midnight

The list goes on. So please say “yes” to The Penske File at the fairgrounds, won’t you?

46) Lil Wayne f/ Swizz Beatz - “Uproar”

Weezy goes this entire song only using “oh” rhymes; not sure how he does it. Sometimes, I listen to this and pretend I’m a buffalo.

45) Cardi B - “Be Careful”

Cardi sampled Lauryn (wayyyyyyyy more on this later) and made it work. The chorus always sticks with me, and though the verses have a few bumps along the way, they might even be better.

44) Elway - “Crowded Conscience”

Elway pulls up their roots in this All Colorado Everything lyric video, and you’ll be ready to tap the Rockies when the singalong chorus finishes.

43) Pkew Pkew Pkew - “Passed Out”

A punk rock drinking song with a real bummer of a chorus for how happy the theme itself comes across.

42) Joyce Manor - “I Think I’m Still In Love With You”

I have no scientific proof, but Barry’s lyrics seem to be getting worse and worse. The drug references are still there, sure, but there’s an almost elementary simplicity to the proceedings. Still, like “Heart Tattoo”, this song doesn’t get in its own way and takes advantage of the basic words to create a big, big hook. You sing along even though it feels too easy at times.

41) Alkaline Trio - “Throw Me To The Lions”

So much desperation in the chorus; this could work as their last ever song.

40) The Bombpops - “Dear Beer”

My favorite opening line on this whole list -- the sweet and simple “I’m about to hit send / I’m waiting for the weekend”. Before you know it, a full blown self-loathing chorus. It’s got it all.

39) Foxing - “Lambert”

In quiet awe listening to this masterpiece of a song. Saw this band way up close in 2018 -- here is a picture:

Hello, Foxing

38) Lucero - “To My Dearest Wife”

Civil War soldier or rigorous rock and roll touring schedule? Either way, the Lucero singer misses his wife and family, and he’s gonna let you know they’re on his mind. I saw them open for Frank Turner in 2018, and he played their new album front to back -- before it had been released -- as their entire set because “I promised to do this when drunk on Instagram”. Gotta respect a man with principles.

37) BlocBoy JB f/ Drake - “Look Alive”

Favorite Drake hook of the year. BlocBoy JB... less necessary. Also kinda crazy to think we didn’t know who producer Tay Keith was at the beginning of 2018; definitely made his impression felt by the end.

36) The Front Bottoms - “Tie Die Dragon”

As psychedelic as I’ll ever get. Unless it’s, like, The Beatles. But that’s different.

35) The Lawrence Arms - “Laugh Out Loud”

Released on their Best Of record (legitimately titled “We Are The Champions Of The World) and an “Oh! Calcutta!” b-side from 2006, TLA prove even their leftovers can be a main course.

34) Tinashe f/ Future - “Faded Love”

I know he’s a rapper and she’s a singer, but nothing is more illustrative of how much harder women have to work compared to men than the 1:36 mark when Tinashe sensually sings “Let’s just feel this feeling”, doubled with Feature’s auto-tuned ass doing the exact same thing, only 10x worse. Not enough to taint the song, even a little. His verse, however...

33) Chance The Rapper - “65th & Ingleside”

Chance -- who almost always makes the correct choices -- did this super annoying thing where he released a bunch of songs in single batches in 2018.

“But Bobby, he gave you tons of free music! Why are you complaining?!”

Because we couldn’t easily sequence it, bruh. Look at this shit!:

Not even Drake would pull this stunt. EP next time, Chano.

Anyway.

Fun lines, really contagious beat, and a few types of flows; he spazzes at the end.

32) Complainer - “Drunk (Again)”

Gotta love when a song can’t start until multiple beer cans crack. These guys are a tiny band inspired-by-but-better-than Jeff Rosenstock, and I hope they get so much more traction.

31) ScHoolboy Q f/ Kendrick Lamar, Saudi & 2 Chainz - “X”

I LIVE ON TEN

Always read this title as the letter X even though the word “ten” is used 40 times in the song.

30) KIDS SEE GHOSTS (Kanye West & Kid Cudi) - “Reborn”

From Kanye’s only useful project in 2018 comes “Reborn”. Luckily, it’s mainly Cudi on this track (chorus/bridge/a verse). It feels like Ohio’s son is breaking through... or breaking out; verging on real triumph over his demons. Kanye, meanwhile, is surprisingly understated (read: good) and fits into all of his parts like a non-OJ glove. The sparing use of Yeezy reminds me of how the master himself used to feature people like Chief Keef just enough to harness the talent but not enough to ruin the song or do too much. Those alpha days appear to be way in the rearview now.

29) Travis Scott f/ Drake, Swae Lee & Big Hawk - “SICKO MODE”

Stacey Dash, most of these girls ain’t got a clue

This joins “Mo Bamba” in the Top 2 of Rap Songs That Need To Be Played At All Parties In The Year 2018. While “Bamba” is more consistent -- seriously, “SICKO MODE” is four songs in one -- almost nothing tops hearing the start of this and immediately anticipating the rest (like the opening of “Tuesday” when that was hot). The third part is probably my favorite. #likealight

28) SOB X RBE f/ Zacari & Kendrick Lamar - “Paramedic!”

Our third selection from the “Black Panther” soundtrack. Second favorite beat of 2018; I can’t not move the second it drops.

27) Drug Church - “Unlicensed Hall Monitor”

Favorite guitar leads of 2018. It’s as sleek as the vocals are gruff.

26) Matt And Kim - “FOREVER”

Was a dead tie between this and the equally emotional “Youngest I Will Be”. But this one has a vid -- and they make the best vids. This song also references the 1992 Dream Team. Our world will never be shit if they stay a part of it; first time I’ve came close to tearing up so far. These two inspire.

25) The Ramblin’ Boys Of Pleasure - “Joyce Jawbreaker”

Speaking of turrs, my band of 14 years released our maybe last song ever in 2018. Written in Maine, titled for Joyce Manor and Jawbreaker, and about lost love, Chicago, futures, playing music with your brothers, tiny hands, and found love. We also did a video:

24) Ariana Grande f/ Nicki Minaj - “the light is coming”

I really, truly am not excluding “thank u, next” to be contrarian. While I agree that is her defining song of 2018 -- and biggest hit to date? -- “the light is coming” is so much more unique. It goes in so many directions while the hook ties the rope around you a hundred times. Yep, I’m right.

23) Laura Jane Grace & The Devouring Mothers - “Apocalypse Now (& Later)”

Wish I could forever keep this song’s opening line as my mantra: You make me walk away from the hate I carry.

22) Restorations - “Nonbeliever”

Another band that should be bigger, so they can always be free to do anything they want. This song will always boil down to this part, which captures the push and pull of 2018 America:

I love your protest lines Oh, but who has the time? We all saw the same thing at the same time, okay? Got a partner for starters And a kid on the way Can’t be doing all this dumb shit no more

For how crass, clumsy, and non-rhyming that concludes, the song itself ends dire.

21) The Get Up Kids - “I’m Sorry”

One of my favorite videos of 2018. Similar to “Apocalypse Now (& Later)”, I’m not sure if it’s about a love interest or a kid. Does it matter? No. But it does to me.

20) Antarctigo Vespucci - “Freakin’ U Out”

A band name for the ages. With Chris Farren (of Fake Problems) on vox and Jeff Rosenstock on instruments, this song could power a car -- or at least one person who didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.

19) Bayside - “It Don’t Exist”

Anthony Raneri has a new grill, but this song feels 50 years old. A classic in real time.

18) The Carters - “APESHIT”

Is this artsy, all-time vid somewhat undermined by the Migos ad libs?

Yes.

/makes note to maybe dress up like this for Halloween next year

17) Post Malone f/ 21 Savage - “rockstar”

This song is so good -- albeit misogynist and also bad -- it makes me genuinely eager for a 21 Savage verse. And though I love any bars relating to his 12-car garage...

my favorite 21 savage quirk is his yearly 12 car garage updates:

2016: “why you got a 12 car garage?”

2017: “they like ‘savage why you got a 12 car garage / and you only got 6 cars?’”

2018: “why you got a 12 car garage? / cause i bought 6 new cars”

(via @ottergawd)

...his intro line is just so, so terrible: “I've been in the Hills fuckin' superstars / Feelin' like a popstar”. You know that’s... not really a rhyme, right?

16) Andrew McMahon In The Wilderness - “Ohio”

/will always, always death stare that dumb name to start any Andy section

Ah, but if we did start with a lyric?

Katie’s counting crows

This song is about leaving the worst state for one of the best. But if we’re doing that, why do we feel so melancholy?

15) Kendrick Lamar & SZA - “All The Stars”

You've gotta be mesmerizing to make Kung Fu Kenny look pedestrian, but SZA's galactic hook does just that.

14) Frank Turner - “1933″

Frank isn’t from here, but he’s setting out to remind us of where this all began.

13) The Wonder Years - “Sister Cities”

As far as pop punk legacies are concerned, The Wonder Years’ is secure. There is no longer necessity to churn out bangers; they’re already on the Mount Rushmore. Still, they go. Every part of this song is essential: the build up verses, blown out chorus, Panic! At The Disco 2005-era hi-hat off-time drum transitions, end-of-the-rope bridge. The true standout is the closing of V2:

I'm guarded like I'm wounded, my first instinct's always “run” I wanna turn to steam I wanna call it off I wanna lighten the dark I wanna swallow the sun

Good guitar leads add even extra.

12) YG f/ 2 Chainz, Big Sean & Nicki Minaj - “BIG BANK”

“Alexa, what does big bank do to little bank?”

The highlight line from each:

YG: “Ayy, I set the bar, I'm the fuckin' bar / Look in the sky, I'm a fuckin' star / I don't fall in love 'cause I be lovin' hard / Do everything like my shirt, extra large”

2 Chainz: “Big shit like a dinosaur did it”

Big Sean: “I'm rare as affordable health care”

Nicki: “Told em' I met Slim Shady, bagged a Em / Once he go black, he'll be back again”

Let this also be remembered as the song that created a Madden controversy.

11) Dean Summerwind - “Parked By The Lake”

What is there to say about the legend that is Dean Summerwind? With only one song on Spotify, he’s batting a clean 1.000. Calling this genius feels like an understatement. It’s real, it’s parody, it’s persistent, it’s ours.

10) The Dirty Nil - “Bathed In Light”

The Canadian Local H. Reaaaaaaaally wanna see them live in 2019.

9) oso oso - “gb/ol h/nf”

I stylized oso oso as “Oso Oso” last year to stick it to their frontman Jade, but a year later, I’ve lost the energy. Blame Ariana Grande. This song -- which stands for “goodbye old love, hello new friend”* -- has my favorite chorus of the year. It’s so simple, it’s obvious: “But I still come through, when you want / And if I serve no use, where do I get my purpose from?”

Also, this is indie/pop/punk/rock’s version of “SICKO MODE”: got more parts than “The Wire”.

(* - had to look that up multiple times in 2018 and never retained, despite it being the bridge of the song... I didn’t notice)

8) Kacey Musgraves - “Space Cowboy”

If any song *survives* the existence of this list, I hope it’s this one. Kacey has this predictable-yet-surprising way of taking existing tropes and co-opting them with her own twist. Homegirl is like the Jim Nantz of pop/country in that way.

7) Direct Hit! - “Welcome To Heaven”

This song makes me want to die to, you know, check. Blustering chorus, fascinating premise, and charged up while simultaneously patient/in control.

6) FIDLAR f/ The 90s - “Are You High?”

This not being on Spotify was one of the worst non-Michigan football things to happen to me in 2018. Man, I hate Michigan football.

5) Drake - “Nice For What”

- My favorite beat of 2018 (New Orleans bounce, ftw)

- My favorite release of 2018 - Drizzy said it would drop on a Friday - We were thinking morning or midday (not late evening, in the last remaining hours of the day, when were were faded and had waited so long it was almost forgotten -- it hit perfect) - On top of that, he also sampled Lauryn Hill’s “Ex-Factor” -- the same week Cardi B did the same -- with even more pulsating results - I will always interpret that as a real or sneak diss, yet no one I know has ever said anything

- My buddy Josh sent a selfie vid of him and his girl and some friends bopping to it; I’ll remember that forever; the moment felt like such an event, as if the world simultaneously celebrated at such an atypical time

- Drake deserves 30% less credit for this female empowerment anthem because of the “these hoes” sample

- Maybe a Top 5 Drake song, all-time

- There is no planet, solar system, or multiverse where 2018 Drake finishes ahead of 2018 Pusha T

4) Pusha T - “The Story Of Adidon”

You are hiding a child.

Let’s not mince words: this is the No. 2 greatest diss track of all time. Pac is No. 1 -- this will not be debated. From there, Nas is DQ’d for “Ether” homophobia, annnnnnd no one else is in the realm. King Push...

- Unearthed a photo of Drake in blackface and uses it as the art for the song - Goes at Drake’s mom (”Marriage is something that Sandi never had...”) - Goes at Drake’s dad (”Dennis Graham stay off the 'gram, bitch, I'm on one”) - Outs Drake for having a child (and hiding said child!*) - Goes at Drake’s baby momma - And -- /gulp -- goes at Drake’s longtime producer 40 for having multiple sclerosis, suggesting he will not be alive soon**

He does this over “The Story Of O.J.” beat... a rather chill backdrop, all things considered.

(* - Drake responded later with the line “I wasn’t hiding my kid from the world, I was hiding the world from my kid” which just isn’t cool at all but is competent enough to win some people back over; /barf)

(** - HOLY FUCK***)

(*** - much debate occurred in the aftermath regarding if Push “went too far”; I was 50-50 at the time but now am 100-0 that it was the right choice; this song is cyanide venom, so why pull back even an ounce?)

Though Drake survived -- turns out the mainstream pop boost is bigger than hip-hop beef -- he took the fattest of L’s on this one.

Really can’t decide on a lyrical ending, so I’m gonna go with two:

Surgical summer.

If we all go to hell, it’ll be worth it.

3) Spanish Love Songs - “Buffalo Buffalo”

In my head, this was gonna end up ahead of The Menzingers, but that would be like putting Greta Van Fleet ahead of Zeppelin. Spanish Love Songs were my breakout band of 2018. They released my favorite album, I saw them as an opener at Sub-T in Chicago, and I promised their bassist I’d see them in Florida at the Fest (this did not materialize). While their vocals and guitar leads sound identical to Scranton’s finest, if you listen to them as much as I did, you’ll realize they offer a sound and perspective* of their own as well.

(* - no one hates themselves more than this singer)

2) The Menzingers - “Toy Soldier”

There’s so much to be sad about these days

/that guitar intro

Followed by the best musical moment of this year: from 0:06 to 0:07 -- the ever-so-slight delay before the band blows it out. Spent a lot of time in 2018 debating if I should change my Twitter bio to “I lost my accent in the plague”. Listened to this song on the floor of the living room on my 32nd birthday; then I read “The Great Gatsby”. From there (at this point, it was past midnight), I realized this sounded like The Lawrence Arms’ “Requiem Revisited”, which was inspired by Naked Raygun’s “Soldiers Requiem”. It’s all a triangle of that perfectly fitting punk chord progression. That’s right: I am Pepe Silvia.

1) Horror Squad - “I Smoke The Blood”

Best song title of 2018. Best song of 2018.

This has 729 views on YouTube -- be the 730th.

Spotify playlist.

Thank you for reading.

#black panther #the carters #beyonce #the menzingers #spanish love songs #vince staples #post malone #travis scott #drake #pusha t #kendrick lamar #sza #yg #matt and kim #chance the rapper #nicki minaj #foxing #alkaline trio #cardi b #eminem #justin timberlake #kanye west #the 1975 #meek mill #xxxtentacion #lil peep