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qqueenofhades · 3 years

Note

Are you still taking prompts? We are thirsty and were hoping for “bite me” in a fivan vampire au. Pretty please? What’s that you say? That’s not on the list you shared? Um, oops? I said we are thirsty! 🤤

Ahaha, okay, I think this is going to do it for the prompts for now. I want to get back to working on PEL, and I have (mostly) given the people what they want. But before you hasten to my inbox to request more of this (which I know the Very Hungry Lot of you will do, and I love you so much for it): do know that this is indeed related to a larger project and this is just the first bit of it.

What is that project? Shh. I am not telling you just yet. It's a secret.

Belgrade, Kingdom of Serbia

June 1896

The summer evening is warm and purple, lit atmospherically by both the older gaslamps and the newfangled electric lights (there is a Serb in New York, a man by the name of Tesla, whose great scientific inventions and experiments with alternating current may soon illuminate the entire world), and the well-dressed crowd flows toward the café in a tide of rustling satin, silk, and velvet, ladies in evening dress and men in top hats and monocles. The establishment is the Golden Cross, in Terazije, a bustling neighborhood just south of Stari Grad, and the attraction is an exhibition of the marvelous moving pictures of the Lumière brothers – the first such show in the Balkans, and indeed outside of Paris, after they were first premiered in great triumph six months ago. Or at least, so it is for most of the attendees tonight. Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky has a different task.

He stands apart from the milling throngs, well dressed in a high-collared coat and silken cravat, dark hair parted ruler-straight and face freshly shaven, a old golden watch tucked in his breast pocket and his shoes polished to a perfect sheen. While the people hurry past almost close enough to jostle him, they have a peculiar difficulty in registering that he is there. They sense something, yes – a cold breath on the back of the neck, a prey animal’s inborn reflex to warily search the shadows – but it never quite clicks. They continue on their way without being troubled in their own sense of reality, or ever realizing who – what – is standing there with them. It is just one of the odd, disjointed experiences that Fedyor has had to come to terms with, in the twenty-two years since he became a vampire.

By habit, he checks the horizon. These summer days are late and long, and Fedyor is still young enough that he can’t tolerate more than a few minutes of sunlight. It has taken years to be able to go out by day at all, half-thinking he had dreamed the waking world, become wholly one with the shadows and the night. When he emerged in the last gasps of afternoon, when he felt the golden warmth on his face for the first time in almost two decades, he wept. It still causes him vestigial pain, but not as much. Not so much that it cannot be borne.

He pulls the slip of paper out of his pocket and checks the name again. Then he puts it back and slips smoothly into the crowd. At the threshold, he feels that faint, telltale twinge, the knowledge of entering another creature’s territory without being explicitly bidden to do so. The Golden Cross belongs to the vampire king of Belgrade, who is rumored to be five hundred years old and a veteran of the Battle of Kosovo in 1389 (which, so far as Fedyor can tell, the Serbs have never gotten over losing to the Turks) and Fedyor is not interested in pissing him off. But therefore it is, by Conclave law, a place where all vampires in the city can freely congregate, so long as they haven’t committed some terrible crime. It also means that Fedyor may find the man he is looking for in here, and not have to cross into enemy turf.

A rich reek of wine and brandy, of hand-cranked ice cream in cut-glass bowls, of ladies’ perfume and men’s cologne, of sweat and starch and thrumming hot blood, rises into Fedyor’s nose as he inhales, as his senses have been honed a hundred times more acutely than what he was previously used to. He searches the crowded room, on high alert for another supernatural. Nothing, at least not thus far. But it is a delicate and fiddly bit of bloodsucker diplomacy for which he is here tonight, having to do with the rumor that a local group of creatures have formed a shadowy secret society called Црна рука, the Black Hand, with the aim of expressly interfering in human politics. This, of course, is strictly against the rules, and they need to be reminded of that fact. Fedyor would very much prefer not to fight an anarchist rebel vampire in the middle of a café crowded with oblivious humans, but the thought crosses his mind that this is an excellent soft target. The eyes of the entire city, the Balkans, the international art community, are fixed on this place tonight. If something went wrong – if the Golden Cross and all the souls within it were blown to smithereens –

Fedyor orders a drink at the bar – he has been promised that one day he will again also be able to eat human food if he craves the taste, but it will not nourish him – and sits down near the back, keeping a sharp eye out. Andre Carr, the Frenchman who has traveled from Lyon as the Lumière brothers’ representative, is setting up the unwieldy projector and barking at his assistants to be careful with the fragile, bulky spools of film, his mustache bristling in agitation. Fedyor gauges the mood of the crowd, the din of their heartbeats, their eager interest, their whispered gossip. Still no other supernaturals that he can sense, but that doesn’t mean that they’re not here. The vampire king and his underlings will have plenty of ways to conceal themselves from a relative child like Fedyor. As will the Black Hand.

He leans back in his chair and samples the whisky. Not bad, he thinks, though it’s been a long time since he drank human libations. It’s nice to be out among regular people, but he always has to keep strict watch on the part of himself that yearns to feed, that wants them to run, to fear, to fall. Fedyor has been a vampire long enough to control the hunger, to drink mostly from animals and space out his feeds on humans, to ask them for their consent or pay them for their trouble, but it’s still a struggle. He understands the urge that drives vampires to sequester themselves, to only live among their own kind, to keep drones and other willing human servants to feed from, so that you are not put to the trouble of chasing down a stranger and politely asking to bite them in the neck every fortnight or so, don’t get mixed up as to whether the mortals are your dinner company or just your dinner. It is a deuced bloody bother of a business. Fedyor always feels like an idiot whenever he tries.

Carr and his minions sort out their difficulties, and eventually the lights go down, provoking another eager murmur. Fedyor is not immune to the lure of whatever they are about to see, and he could have done much worse for a new home. He arrived here six years ago from his hometown in Russia, once his lack of aging became too difficult to conceal from his friends and family. Belle epoque Belgrade is a cosmopolitan, cultured world of stately opera houses and marble palaces, grand balls and gaslights, synagogues and streetcars, mosques and museums, bohemians and bordellos and broad balconies, telegraph wires and trolley cars and twisting lanes, churches and coffee shops in the Viennese style, with white-aproned waiters and colored mosaics and demitasse cups of Italian espresso. It is an ancient city, placed in a lethally strategic location at the confluence of two rivers, fought over in almost a hundred wars and razed almost forty times (and doubtless there are still more unmakings yet to come). Fedyor has found a place among the vampire community here, enough that he is trusted to deal with the Black Hand, despite his immortal youth. As to how that will go, well…

He watches the film with half an eye, impressed by the moving pictures just like his human counterparts, and then he feels it. The coldness on the back of his neck, the chirp of a sixth sense, the unshakeable awareness that he is being observed by a fellow bloodsucker. Though that term is considered somewhat dated and passé these days, mildly offensive. Vampires are eager as humans to participate in the scientific and industrial revolution, to concoct more enlightened regulations for themselves, to create an academic literature for their origins. There is talk among the sophisticated supernatural set of organizing an Academy for Preternatural Science, to hire vampire scholars, to establish a university. It’s a nice thought, if somewhat too ambitious (or so Fedyor thinks) for a race of beings that has only just decided that solving every problem with blood feuds to the death might not be the best idea. He wonders if one of those unreconstructed barbarians is behind him now.

Slowly, smoothly, so as to demonstrate that he is perfectly aware of being hunted, Fedyor turns around, and catches sight of the newcomer across the way. He is handsome – but then again, most vampires are, as it’s one of the benefits of the transformation. This one, however, is possessed of a roguish, rough-hewn attractiveness that seems genuine, still close to the face he wore as a mortal man, and not the eerie, glossy, imperturbable beauty that Fedyor sometimes finds so off-putting about his compatriots. This vampire is also wearing good clothes, and his overcoat is dark red, embroidered with curling black patterns. He looks at Fedyor, their eyes meet, and he nods once, half an inch. Game on.

Fedyor does his best to sit still until the lights come up, and the crowd claps rapturously and disperses to fetch more drinks and gush about the performance. Then he gets up and drifts toward a velvet curtain, slipping unobtrusively behind it. Back here, it is dark, dusty, and smells of candlewax and grease paint, the remnants of another performance, a conjurer’s closet. He steadies himself, turns around, and –

“Good evening,” the voice says, cold and curt. “I believe you were waiting to speak to me.”

“Yes.” Fedyor does his best to smile and appear charming and in command of the situation. “My name is Fedyor Kaminsky, and I am a representative of the Conclave. They have sent me here tonight in hopes of locating Ivan Sakharov, of the Black Hand. Is that you?”

The other vampire regards him flatly. His eyes are brown, as is his hair, which is cropped military-short and kept as sharp as his face. When he folds his arms, his muscles bulge, even through the sleeves of the well-tailored coat. “And if I was?”

“Then,” Fedyor says, “I am authorized by that same Conclave to deliver a warning to you and your associates that your current activities fall outside the bounds of the common supernatural law, and if you persist in pursuing them, there will be consequences.”

The other – well, he hasn’t denied it, so this must indeed be Ivan Sakharov – looks back at him with an utterly unimpressed expression. “Oh, so the Conclave found a new stooge to do their bidding? You’re a bit younger and fresher than the usual corpses those desiccated old tightwads usually send out after us, I’ll give you that. How long have you been in Belgrade?”

“How long have you?” Fedyor is almost sure he recognizes Ivan’s accent; they’re speaking Serbo-Croatian, but in both cases with a familiar cadence. “You’re Russian, aren’t you?”

That catches the other vampire by surprise. He hisses, baring a pair of white and very sharp fangs, and his eyes go briefly black. “You think so?”

“Yes,” Fedyor says. “But older than me, I think. Possibly quite a bit, though by how much, I can’t be sure. If we were to – ” he switches languages smoothly, in midsentence – “continue this conversation in Russian, would that be more to your liking?”

Ivan Sakharov eyes him icily. He must know that if he speaks their native tongue, he risks giving away his age by the style of his grammar, or perhaps his place of birth, and that is dangerous information for an unknown quantity to hold over you. There is a whiff of the emperor’s court around him, or perhaps the empress – does he hail from Catherine the Great’s day, Fedyor wonders, or earlier? There’s a long, crackling pause. Then Ivan says in brittle, too-correct English, “Or perhaps we should converse like this?”

Fedyor inclines his head, accepting that he has – for now – been outmaneuvered. They still haven’t taken their eyes off each other, standing close together in the dim velvet-draped shadows, near enough that if they were human, they would feel the other’s heat. There’s nothing but the faint wintry chill of unliving flesh, though a certain hunger rises unbidden in Fedyor’s stomach nonetheless. Then he says, “This does not have to be difficult. Cease your lawlessness and tell your friends to do the same.”

Ivan takes another step, close enough that their noses almost brush. “The Conclave has no power over me, Fedyor Kaminsky.”

“Do you want to test that?” Fedyor breathes, struggling to keep his focus at the other vampire’s threatening-but-thrilling nearness, the way his blood is singing under his skin in an entirely different way than he expected or frankly, that he wants. Just because Ivan Sakharov is annoyingly attractive (and also Russian) does not mean that he is not a dangerous, war-mongering, secret-cabal-plotting megalomaniac, and Fedyor does not need that sort of nonsense in his life. “If you did, I would, of course, be authorized to place you under arrest.”

Ivan looks at him goadingly. “I would like to see you try.”

Oh, so he is indeed one of those immortals (read: the kind who really need to experience mortality just to be kicked very hard in the balls). Fedyor struggles to contain his irritation. If he shows that this handsome bastard has gotten to him, this will only get worse. “If you promise to desist,” he says, “the Conclave will drop this matter and consider it closed. You and the rest of the Black Hand will not be subject to further investigation. That, or – ”

“How do I know that you are even from the Conclave? That you are who you say?”

“Why would I lie about it?”

Ivan shrugs. “I want proof.”

Fedyor grits his fangs. “What do you expect? A badge?”

“No. But I will accept your blood.”

That catches Fedyor off guard. Not that it should, necessarily. Since vampires can sense the thoughts and feelings of the creature that they’re feeding on, it’s a quick and time-tested way to prove that there is no funny business going on (or at least, no business that is funny beyond the usual). The obvious difficulty, however, is that it requires a possibly unfriendly rival to bite your neck or at the very least, your wrist, and one can understand why there would be a natural hesitation to yield one’s neck (Fedyor happens to be rather fond of his) to the clutches of the likes of Ivan Sakharov. But if he says no, he looks like he is weak or that he has something to hide, that he doesn’t trust Ivan or regard him as an equal, and the already-febrile situation with the Black Hand will only get worse. As bluffs go, Fedyor could call this one. But it would be very risky, and if it blows up in his face…

“Very well,” Fedyor says, chillingly correct. He pulls aside the collar of his evening coat and tilts his head, exposing the side of his throat. “Test me all you like.”

Ivan looks at him with something that makes that thing in Fedyor’s stomach rise up again, hot as an ember left burning in a brazier even when all the other lights go out. He hasn’t been warmed like this, not even by the sun, ever since he was turned in 1874 by a vampire named Dmitri Karamazov. He does his utmost to force it down. If Ivan bites him and senses that –

There’s a final pause, soft as tissue paper, fine as crystal. Then Ivan steps forward, looking almost impressed, as if he expected Fedyor to find some reason to back out. He flexes his jaw, bringing out those two impressively white and sharp fangs again, and reaches out, gripping Fedyor’s waist with his big hands and drawing him somewhat closer than is strictly necessary. Then he whispers, “As you wish, Conclave whore,” and bites.

He’s not entirely gentle about it, not that vampires usually are and not that Fedyor wasn’t expecting it. But all at once, as Ivan sucks at him, his mouth pressed hungrily to Fedyor’s neck, wet and raw and savage, Fedyor goes weak in the knees. He’s been fed on before, tested before, and this is different from any of those. He utters a mewling noise of need that he is shocked and deeply outraged to hear from himself, pressing still closer, knocking Ivan a few steps backward into the wall. His hands come up, seeking purchase on the other’s broad shoulders, a smoky curl of desire rising through him like rich incense. “Mmm,” he mutters. “Mmmgh. Yes. Like that. Yes.”

Ivan doesn’t answer for obvious reasons, since his mouth is otherwise occupied, but Fedyor can feel the little frisson of pleasure that travels through him at those words. That takes him aback. Not that he should rush to generalize, since most vampires are fairly flexible in their intimate preferences (you don’t live that long without wanting to sample everything that is on offer, carnally speaking) but for some reason, he just assumed that this tough, frightening, hard-as-nails secret anarchist supernatural idiot wouldn’t be inclined to gentlemen. Not that Fedyor is necessarily objecting. This feels far better than it has any right to do, considering that it started out as a naked challenge to his veracity. Agh, fuck, he should not think about naked. That makes the arousal burn even more hungrily, as he arches his back and presses himself wantonly against Ivan and knows that he’s hard as a rock and that this utter menace can definitely feel it. Ivan is in no hurry to pull away. He drinks for a few more seconds, past when there can be any reasonable doubt that Fedyor is telling the truth, and then slowly, deliberately breaks contact, fangs still half in Fedyor’s throat, as he withdraws with luxurious leisure. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and growls, “Ah.”

“Yes, ah,” Fedyor says, trying not to stammer, as pulses of hot and cold rush through him from head to toe. “Are you satisfied?”

Ivan gives him a wicked smile, drops of Fedyor’s blood still glistening heart-scarlet on his lips. “Maybe.”

God almighty, kill me now. Difficult, of course, when one is – strictly speaking – already deceased. (And now deceased in a different way, which makes it two kinds of dead at once, which makes Fedyor a prodigy.) He wants to ask if Ivan will perform the customary service of licking the bite wounds closed, but he’s also afraid that he may physically incinerate if Ivan does so, and since fire is rather famously one of the only things that can harm vampires, it is better not to take the risk. Instead, Fedyor pulls out his handkerchief and dabs at his throat, with as much casualness as he can muster. “Well,” he says. “You’ve had my word, Ivan Sakharov. Will you give me yours that you will bring your illegal organization to an end and return to the rule of Conclave law?”

Ivan looks him up and down, eyes lingering on the too-tight fit of Fedyor’s pinstriped trousers. Then he leans in, so close that Fedyor truly does think they’re about to kiss and momentarily blacks out, and whispers against the shell of his ear, “Absolutely not.”

And with that, and no more than a rush of air, he is gone.

#ivan x fedyor #heartrender husbands #fivan #fivan ff #anonymous #ask #my god i'm so predictable #(we are all predictable)#but also yes

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gainaxvel3o · 4 years

Text

Shinji Ikari: The Amazing Spider-Man

Shinji Ikari: The Origin

The opening strings of Bach's Cello Suite #1 were heard in the room.

It was being played on the cello, the young, brown haired, blue eyed boy wearing the black school uniform holding the instrument playing it with efficiency. He put his concentration into this, lest he be disappointing the old man sitting in front go him.

When he finally finished, his teacher nodded in approval.

"Very good. You are done for the day."

Shinji Ikari nodded in return. "Understood."

_______________________________________________________________________

Kokoro is covered in smog.

When the meteorite impacted the Earth in 1999, the world had changed. Much of the world was destroyed in the wake of the calamity. Weather was fixed in countries around the world, with Japan being in perpetual summer heat.

Nagano was a casualty of Second Impact's destruction, and as such it was sometime before it was given the go ahead for rebuild. Luckily, the Yashida Company was able to pick up the slack, the large corporation funding various reconstruction efforts to rebuild the city. It was renamed Kokoro, to symbolize becoming the heart of technology and commerce for the rebuilding Japan. Smog was common, since construction and factories were common, and very busy. It was quite a large enterprise.

Shinji reset the tape from track 26 to 25.

Anata wo michibiku basho he to

Tori no mure ga habataite yuku

Kawaita daichi ni aru no wa

Hibiwareta takusan no kokoro

He didn't think too much of the city. It was too busy and loud for his tastes. He always seemed to find it… overcrowded for lack of a better word. Sitting on the train, he listened to his S-DAT player while ignoring the rest of the passengers. He enjoyed music. He found it relaxing, like locking himself off into his own landscape, where he could ignore the world and be the only one that exists.

Kikoeru anata wo

yobu koe ga

Zawameki nimo

makenai hodo tsuyoku

Shinji was one that let things happen as they happened. Without dreams or aspirations, he just existed and did what he was told. He was never entirely comfortable with people, and people were never comfortable with him, so they never connected. He saw no problem with this arrangement, he had little reason to care.

You are the only one.

kitto

anata dake.

He stopped this thought process when he realized the train had reached Imai Station.

Shinji picked up his bag and stepped outside. He might not have aspirations, but he still needed to go to school.

_______________________________________________________________________

That does not mean he liked Kawanakajima Junior High School.

Shinji is sitting in Science class, trying to listen to Prof. Kuruto Inumaru explaining the experiment. Something to do with mixing the appropriate chemical compounds.

"This is exciting, Ikari! Can you feel it?"

The key word being trying.

Too bad he had Tsuyoshi Kotei as his lab partner.

Kotei was the Class Representative. Tall, imposing with black hair and shining wide blue eyes, he was well respected among his peers. He was at the top in terms of grades and was considered a well behaved young man by the teachers. He had a charm that won over most people.

Whenever he was around though, Shinji couldn't help shake a foreboding feeling.

"Kotei, could you please be quiet? I'm trying to take notes." Shinji hissed, scribbling notes on his notebook.

Tsuyoshi looked over him apologetic, "Sorry, it's just that taking classes and performing my duties makes me feel great."

"Okay, I'm trying to concentrate!" Shinji whispered a little louder, which unfortunately got attention.

"Is there something you would like to add, Ikari?" said Prof. Inumaru with a condescending tone.

Shinji looked down. "No sir."

"Good, let us begin the experiment," Prof. Inumaru turned back to the board as Shinji blushed hearing his classmates chuckle.

The class experiment was mixing compounds to produce a particular chemical. Tsuyoshi was a pro at this, mixing and matching with ease with Shinji struggling to keep up with him. Still, he did his part and was able to produce the right chemical for the job. He was about to place them in the mixer-

A sudden force pushed him and the glass containers with chemicals he held slipped from his hands and fell onto the floor, spilling the materials and shattering the glass.

At this, Prof. Inumaru turned his attention to Shinji, and he wasn't pleased.

"Ikari, you're staying over after school for clean up duty. That is not a request."

Bitterly, Shinji looked over at Tsuyoshi, who merely smiled.

With a sneering grin.

_______________________________________________________________________

Clean up duty was a chore.

Shinji used his gloved hands to drag the mop across the classroom, cleaning it like he was told to. The rest of the day was boring enough, but Kotei's little prank made his day an extra waste. It was sunset by this point. Shinji wanted to hurry back home so he could sleep in. Not like he had much to do after all.

The laboratory door opened as Prof. Inumaru stepped out. He seemed rather stressed about something.

"I have to make a call, I will be back in a minute. Make sure you finish cleaning the room," was all he said as he slammed the door shut.

Shinji made a quick glance through the opened door. For some reason, he felt curious about what was inside.

So he placed the mop in his hands over a table and went inside.

The laboratory was a dark and small room. The lights were dimmed, the office was messy and disorganized, and it was clear only Inumaru used this lab.

On the table, there was a small glass cage that was broken.

Shinji figured whatever was inside the cage was probably the cause of Prof. Inumaru's worry. He went over to the cage in order to inspect the thing.

He also grabbed some gloves and a bag. If nothing else, he could clean this mess up. He went back to the table and picked up the shards.

Piece by piece, he brought the shards into the bag with his hand. He was intently focused on the task. Enough that he did not notice a small little creature making its way towards him.

Then, a stinging pain was felt on his right hand.

"Nggh!" Shinji grabbed his wrist, groaning while suffering from the pain. A quick glance and he saw the small little creature, a spider, scurrying off the table.

He shut his eyes… and saw darkness.

_______________________________________________________________________

"You alright kid?"

Shinji heard those words in a blurry haze, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room. As he gazed up, he realized he was in a hospital room. A bearded doctor was in his vision, holding up his hand in front of him.

"How many fingers am I holding?"

Shinji looked at it, focused on it.

"Th… three?" He said hesitantly, unsure if he saw it properly.

It seems it was correct though, since the doctor nodded in approval. "Good, very good. Your teacher brought you over here as soon as he could after he found you on the ground unconscious. From the vitals you seem to be pretty healthy, but we're going to need a blood sample just to be sure. Will that be alright with you?"

Shinji did not object to that. He did have a question though. "You said my teacher brought me here?"

"Yes, Professor Inumaru brought you here. Your legal guardian came over briefly to sign off on the appropriate documents." The doctor said as he waved at a nearby nurse to come in.

"… I see." Shinji said with his head downcast. The nurse went over to him, carrying a needle.

"I'll be taking a sample now okay?" She said smiling in an attempt to reassure the boy. Shinji smiled briefly in return and held out his hand for her.

She cleaned the needle right before stabbing it into Shinji's arm.

"Huh, that's strange…" She frowned a little. "You got surprisingly thick skin. I had a little bit of a problem getting the needle in. Oh well." She didn't say much more as she got the sample. "Your guardian also left something for you."

Shinji was confused. "What did he leave?"

"It's this." The doctor brought out from his pocket a familiar object. Shinji's S-DAT player with his earphones. "You're going to be here for an hour or two, so listening to some music will probably help you pass the time while I get the sample ready."

Shinji nodded. As he put on the earphones, he thought about how he couldn't wait to get out of the hospital soon.

_______________________________________________________________________

After he was given the clean bill of health, Shinji returned to his house.

He wouldn't call this place his home. It never felt like it, even if he did live here for most of his life. A quaint, normal place, it was with very little decoration outside nor inside. Shinji let himself in through the front door (he had the keys in his pockets). He walked in, passing by the kitchen.

Inside the kitchen, Shinji noticed an older man reading a newspaper on the dinner table.

This man had been his caretaker since he was four. He taught him how to play the cello, schooled him for a bit in his childhood before sending him to a proper school. The two of them weren't close, neither spending too much time making contact unless it was through cello practice.

"I'm home." Shinji said dispassionately.

The old man let out a small groan in response and placed the paper he was reading down on the table. "I see you are."

They stood there, eye contact established. It was broken when Shinji looked away from his teacher.

"We'll begin practice in a few minutes. Get your cello."

Shinji went up to his room to get the instrument.

_______________________________________________________________________

Drowning.

Shinji was drowning in an ocean of red. He struggled repeatedly to get up, to get some air. But some invisible force is dragging him down, further and further…

Gasping for any semblance of oxygen, he felt his energy fading.

In spite of being underwater, he heard words all around him. Painful words.

GET AWAY FROM ME

HOW PATHETIC

I HATE YOU

Shinji's eyes were wide as he witnessed dark shapes with cruel eyes, disgusted at his very being. The final gasps of air left him-

As he awoke from his dream with a tiny gasp.

Shinji felt sweat on his body. The nightmare gave him a panic attack that left him shivering and cold. He brought a hand up this face to wipe it off.

He often had these types of dreams after particularly bad days. Dreams of hate that make his heart pound in fear. Even as he never formed a human bond, he did not wish to be hated. The thought terrified him, though he did not know what he could do about it. So the feeling came back no matter how much he tried to bury it.

It was after that train of thought Shinji noticed some of his sweat drops were falling… upwards?

He turned his head up-

He saw his bed.

He looked around himself-

He was on the ceiling, stuck it through his hands and feet.

"What the- AAAH!"

He fell down from his position on the roof and fell into the bed, breaking the stools on it as he fell.

With a panic, Shinji ran off into the bathroom panicking.

"No, this is a dream, obviously that wasn't real-" Shinji said in a haze of confusion, "I wasn't just up in the ceiling for no reason-"

After turning on the lights he went over to the sink and washed his face repeatedly, convinced he was hallucinating. It was only then he noticed something in the mirror.

Namely that where his thin scrawny form was stood place a slightly more muscular form that he didn't have before.

"This can't be real…" Shinji said looking at his reflection. He reached out to it with his hand, waving it around for a bit, before bringing it over to his face. Upon closer inspection of the hand he noticed that his fingers contained tiny pincers that stretched out from the tips.

He walked out of the room unsure of what was going on.

'How did I get like this? I was just fine yesterday when I got out of the hospital.' Shinji thought to himself. 'The only thing that happened was-'

The spider.

Shinji remembers that time when the Spider bit him. It sounds completely stupid and insane and yet…

Shinji placed a hand on the wall. Then another.

Both hands were joined by a pair of feet as Shinji Ikari climbed up to the ceiling once more.

Now that he could think clearly, Shinji only had one thought on his mind.

"No way."

_______________________________________________________________________

The next morning was rather strange for the boy as one can imagine.

Shinji was tired from a lack of sleep. How could he when he got weird powers and broke his bed by accident? He only wished his teacher wouldn't find the broken bed before he could do something about that. Exactly what he could do is beyond his guess, but he had to do something.

Rubbing his eyes, he walked past the groups of students walking together talking about random life activities or something. He wasn't paying too much attention.

Maybe if he had, he wouldn't have bumped directly into Prof. Inumaru and making him drop his papers.

"Eeeh! Sorry Professor!" Shinji yelled out loudly as he tried helping Inumaru get his papers, but the good professor merely held out his hand to silence him.

"It is alright Ikari." He readjusted his glasses as he stood up to properly meet his student. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

Shinji shifted slightly. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"It was about the incident from yesterday." Inumaru said nervously. "The doctors said you were fine, but have you felt any side effects at all? Any changes?"

Shinji contemplated whether to tell Inumaru about getting his powers last night. On the one hand, he was curious about the spider and what it had done. But on the other hand…

"No sir. Nothing much happened."

He was not quite sure he could trust him.

Inumaru scratched the back of his head, "Very well. Could you do me a favor and make sure you don't tell anyone what happened alright?"

Shinji nodded, and Inumaru went back to walking down hallways with papers like teachers usually do.

From there, the boy for his part went about his day as normal. Other than nearly falling asleep in classes, nothing much really happened that was worthy of note.

Until lunchtime.

Shinji was eating alone at his own table. He rubbed his hand over his forehead, feeling a slight headache come over him as he stopped eating for a second. The headache grew stronger and he groaned.

"Just what is up with my head" Shinji grabbed his head with one hand, the other hand went in search of the tray to grab onto.

He felt a slight pricking on his wrist, which Shinji took a brief glance at from the pain on his head to see-

Some sort of fluid material covering a part of the tray.

Momentarily forgetting his headache, Shinji reacted similarly to getting his wall crawling power; by panicking. He got up quickly, the tray sticking from his hand and-

Hitting someone that was coming by, spilling all the food on his uniform. Whoops!

Oh, and not just another student either, it was 'kind and loving' Tsuyoshi Kotei.

Double whoops.

After hitting Kotei, the fluid material snapped from Shinji's hand and fell to the floor.

Thank goodness no one witnessed that, it would have exposed Shinji's secret right then and there. Narrowly avoided triple whoops.

"I'm sorry Kotei!" Shinji waved his arms around, "I didn't mean to- It was an accident!"

If one payed close attention to Kotei, one would notice one of his eyes twitching, "It's perfectly alright Ikari. I'm sorry for disrupting your lunch as well. How about we meet after school so we could eat some lunch together?" he responded with a polite tone.

Shinji felt another headache coming on. He knew that it was going to lead to trouble, but everyone was staring at him…

"Okay, I'll do it." While he wasn't a social butterfly, it would seem rude to reject an offer just like that. Not if you want everyone else to turn on you.

_______________________________________________________________________

Meeting at the rooftop of the school is pretty normal for students. It had a nice view when you wanted to get away from the crowds at the lunch table.

Another thing that was normal was Tsuyoshi Kotei and his goons surrounding and beating up people they don't like.

Truth was, Kotei was massively popular and the class representative. He has earned everyone's trust and admiration, so they didn't seem to notice or look too deeply when some students came in with bruises into the classroom, looking away from Kotei when he smiled at them holding some yen.

Or maybe they did notice. Maybe they just chose to look the other way.

Shinji was no stranger to the sight of Kotei and his goons surrounding him. Kotei had support from all around, and they were all waiting to see Kotei kicking the butt out of whoever he brings in.

He tried to get away from Kotei, but the other students held him still for Kotei.

"You ruined my uniform just now Ikari." Kotei said with a sadistic grin, much like in lab class. "You have to pay, so STEP RIGHT UP!" He had his mighty fists of steel (as he called them) raised up to beat the snot out of his new victim.

Shinji felt his headache again. 'Not now!' he thought as he clutched his head waiting for the right hook shot to the face that was coming towards him.

Then though, time slowed down.

The grinning Kotei and his fist of steel was now coming at Shinji at a snail's pace. Seemingly without thinking, Shinji moved his head aside-

Time returned as Kotei struck one of his classmates instead.

"What the hell?!" The punched out student yelled. The smug grin from Kotei disappeared in favor of confusion and anger. This volatile combination of feelings lead to Kotei throwing another fist at his missing target.

And another

And another-

Shinji was dodging all of the punches! Through some sort of instinct, Shinji's headaches seem to alert him the incoming danger, allowing him to reflexively move out of the way of the fists!

The crowd surrounding them cheered on Kotei to knock Shinji's ass to the ground, which only made Kotei more determined than ever to oblige.

"Finish it up Kotei! We're gonna check out at the warehouse down the marketplace to see if we could turn it into a crib!" yelled out one of the students surrounding the fight.

Shinji for his part was confused as to how he was sensing the danger. These headaches were only making it worse, unable for him to think properly.

But the crowd was getting anxious so finally when Shinji moved away once more some students grabbed his shoulders to keep him still.

"We got him right here for ya, Kotei! Finish off the lil bastard and we'll got the arcades next!" said an eager student. Kotei smirked.

"Nowhere to run now, Ikari. Now get ready!" Kotei raised his left hook and launched it right at Shinji's stomach.

Shinji struggled from the grabbing, but he was kept there like a lamb for the slaughter. His headaches were getting worse so without thinking as Kotei's fist reached-

Hand to hand contact was made; Shinji's hand blocked Kotei's fist.

A sickening crunch was heard.

"GGRRAAAARRRGGHH!" Kotei yelled out in anger and pain as he clutched his now broken hand.

The others let go of Shinji as they went to look over their Class Representative in Pain.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" Shinji let out in a small whisper. Kotei looked over him, rage filling his eyes.

"YOU'RE GONNA GET YOURS, IKARI!" At that, Shinji turned around and ran off quickly ignoring the yells that came from behind him.

Breaking someone's hand with your newly gained super strength? Now THAT was a triple whoops.

_______________________________________________________________________

"I got a call earlier today. It was from a parent."

Bach's Cello Suite #1 was something Shinji had been practicing for a long time. Today he was playing it with the efficiency he always had when playing it. The older man had his arms crossed as he sat facing Shinji's direction, disapproval evident on his face.

"What did they say?" Shinji asked.

"They said something about you breaking their kid's hand."

Shinji frowned, stopping the cello playing and remained silent. The older man took it as confirmation of guilt.

"I am disappointed in you. Getting into fights with students? That's very unlike you." He rubbed his eyes in frustration. Shinji returned to playing the cello, but there's a change in the way he played it.

"So? It was an accident anyway." Shinji kept his head down, his tone turning to anger.

"Accident nothing. The parents were angry, I had to apologize to them for you. They're threatening to sue. Don't you feel any sort of remorse for that?"

The cello playing became harder, to the point that it was messing up the rhythm of the piece.

"Why do you care?"

The question surprised the older man. "Come again?"

"Why do you care now?" Shinji's voice took a darker tone. "You've never cared before. How would you even know it was unlike me?"

Dropping the cello to the floor, Shinji stood up from his chair to face his teacher. Anger boiled directly in his eyes as he started yelling, "You never talk to me, you never ask how I am or how I feel! You didn't even visit me when I was in the hospital the other day. The only thing we ever do together is you teaching me how to play the cello! If you cared before, you would have said something A LONG TIME AGO!"

The older man also stood up to face his student, "Sit back down!"

"No I won't!" Shinji got out of the room fuming. He took a raincoat and slammed the door open.

"You will get back in here right this instant!" The older man may have said more things, but Shinji wasn't listening as he ran away from the house.

The boy ran as far as he could, but even he got tired after a while. He stopped at a near by lamppost to catch a breath.

Clutching the lamppost, he looked around to see where he was. Judging from the various stores around the area, he seemed to have taken a turn into the marketplace unknowingly. Sighing as he put his hands his pockets, Shinji realized he still had his S-DAT player and earphones with him. With this, he made the decision to just walk around the street to clear his thoughts while listening to music.

He placed his hood on and walked away not noticing the dent he made onto the lamppost from clutching it too hard. He put on the earphones and set the tape to 25 as per usual.

Kanashimi ni michita machi he to

Suna majiri no kaze wa fuite

Walking around alone while listening to music, that was something Shinji was comfortable with. He didn't have to fear what people think of him, how they saw him, didn't have to think about his problems… that was good.

Kasukana kibou no kakera mo

Maboroshi ni kaete shimau kedo

This was good. Shinji just let himself get caught up in the same track he always played during those moments, especially on the train rides to school.

You are the only one

sou yo

anata dake

His eyes took a quick glance around, coming upon a random scene.

Someone (around his age, Shinji thought absentmindedly) was mugging a random middle aged woman.

"Gimme the damn purse, old hag!" said the guy grabbing onto to the purse while the lady is desperately trying to get it back.

"No! Let go of it!" The lady bit her lip but eventually she lost the battle. The guy dragged the purse away from her, knocking her to the ground. He ran straight into Shinji's direction.

Feeling another headache, Shinji looked up-

and without thinking, stepped to the side.

The woman looked up, her eyes watering up as the mugger got away. "That man stole my purse!" She said desperately trying to get up to chase down the man.

As she went past Shinji, another man patted the boy's shoulder.

"It's okay, kid. Anyone would be scared of that." He said Shinji with an understanding tone. "I'm gonna try to help her out, get home safe!"

That man ran off to help the poor woman. For his part, the boy continued trekking down the area, not once thinking of what happened there.

'Was I supposed to stop it? It's not like it was my problem or anything.' He thought, turning around a corner desperately trying to avoid any thinking.

His headaches increased by a strong amount-

Shinji jumped away just in time to avoid a car.

He heard some yelling but really all he could focus on was the fact that he clung onto the walls of a building.

And that he was high up.

"WAAH!" Shinji nearly slipped off the building before firmly reattaching his hands to it. He looked around quaking with a tinge of fear.

Luckily the hood on his coat managed to decently hide his face from anyone looking below. It seemed luck was on his side a lot these days. He crawled up the wall to avoid getting seen by more people.

Getting to the rooftop, he stopped to catch his breath. 'Climbing up walls, getting headaches whenever I'm in trouble… breaking hands,'Shinji cringed at the thought, 'and that stuff from the tray. How much can I do?'

If he wanted not to break someone's hand again, he needed to test out his new powers. But where could he find a decent place for it?

He remembered one of the students during the fight mentioning a warehouse down this district… maybe he should check that out?

_______________________________________________________________________

The warehouse as it turned out was not too far.

Indeed, Shinji was surprised the building wasn't torn down already. The place was deserted, no one in sight. He was surprised not even Kotei's gang was here, given the earlier proclamation of turning it into a "crib".

Whatever, this will have to do.

With his new "wall crawling" powers, he managed to get inside the place just fine. Once he got in, he surveyed the area. Lots of crates, an abandoned car, but a whole lot of empty space as well.

Empty space for which to practice.

Shinji jumped right into the center of the area. With his new strength, he landed with ease. He took off his jacket and other stuff to make sure they don't get broken. Lord knows he doesn't want his walkman broken, how else would he hide away from his issues?

He thought about lunch period earlier. A fluid came out from his hand that latched itself to the tray… that bumped into Kotei. Shinji let out an involuntary chuckle. 'How did it come out..?'. He tried to think about how to release the white fluid from his body (his face blushed at how that came out- oh get Shinji get your head out of the gutter!). He looked over his hand. Maybe it was how the hand was positioned…?

He held out his hand away from him, "Go?"

Nothing happened.

Flexing his hand again, he tried a thumbs up gesture, "Release."

Nope.

This time, he faced his palm outwards, triumphantly crying out, "HONEEEYYY FLASH!"

Nada to the third power, receiving a large blush for his trouble.

Trying out various more poses and flexes, Shinji was getting frustrated with the lack of results. 'I was able to do it before, why doesn't it work now?,' it feels like the luck he possessed earlier had disappeared. Grabbing his head in his hands, he kicked some dust from the floor. Waving his arms around, 'I really hope that wasn't a one time thing, that wouldn't be very good-'

Thwip!

Shinji heard it, and turning to meet the noise he saw the fluid had again flown, this time from his left hand attached to a pillar. The fluid-

‘No… webbing.’ He thought. The webbing had detached from his hand this time, when it didn't during the tray incident. 'Maybe back then, I was suffering the headaches and wasn't thinking straight. Now that my head is clear and thought about it, it detached itself from my hand.' He memorized the form of his hand (the index, little and thumb fingers extended with the middle and ring fingers held down. 'The rock and roll pose,' Shinji thought somewhat amused). Trying it again with his other hand, he positioned upwards and thwip, another web line launched onto the support beam on the roof. He clutched the web with his hand, pulling on it to test the strength. His belief in the web established, he decided to try something.

Clutching the web line with both his hands, he climbed it. Slowly of course, he raised a hand up, and another hand up and sure enough, the web was strong enough to support his body! Shinji was grinning from ear to ear like a child as he marveled at the fact he was getting the hang of his powers.

"This is amazing! I can't believe I can do thi-WHOAH!" Shinji yelled out as he realized he made a mistake. See, while he tested the web line to make sure it was strong enough to hold him, he didn't check to see if the wooden support beam the web was attached to was strong enough to hold him.

As such, the support beam broke and now Shinji pays the price. He fell to the ground on his back, the web falling with him. And WHAM! The support beam wasn't too far behind, hitting him as well.

"Owww…" Shinji groaned in pain. Thank God he had super strength or else he would have broken his back in day one.

_______________________________________________________________________

The next morning was a pain for Shinji.

Not just pain from last night's little endeavor (thought it did hurt a lot), but also the fact that in order to get to school he has to get past his teacher. The one he blew off last night in anger. The one he waited until he was sure he was in bed before coming back inside.

'Maybe if I'm lucky I could just get to the door and walk away before anything happens.' Shinji tried to think optimistically, a rare thing for someone with low self esteem like himself. The poor boy walked down the stairs sneakily, making sure not to make a sound. Step by step, he just had to make it past the kitchen-

"Ikari."

Yup, his luck definitely ran out last night.

Shinji cringed as he faced the older man sitting on the table. The lack of a newspaper and the way his arms were folded suggested a long conversation was about to ensue.

"Sit down. We need to talk."

And he was right. Shinji followed his teacher's instructions and sat down, placing his hands in front of him.

Facing each other, the two sat there in silence. Neither of them moved or made a sound, as it seemed both were thinking about what to say.

Shinji decided to try first. "I'm sor-"

"You're a lot like him you know. Like your father."

Shinji looked at his teacher surprised. The older man continued, "The two of us went to college together way back when. The two of you are ones to keep things close to your chest, never letting people see what's inside your heart. Then again… I'm not really that much better am I?" He took out his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Shinji stayed quiet to let him continue.

"The truth was… I hated your father. Ever since I met him. He was a smug and petty man who got into fights in bars for no reason and always got me and my friends into trouble along the way. We even called him the Bastard King as a joke once or twice. You though?" The older man stared at Shinji intently, "I never hated you. When the bastard left you all alone on that train station, I was angry he would just leave you like that, especially after your mother died. I took it upon myself to make sure you were taken care of. Taught you how to cook, how to play the cello, got you into school and got the tapes for your Walkman because I wanted you to grow up alright."

He turned his head down, "But when you yelled at me yesterday… I realized that wasn't enough. You thought I didn't care about you… and that was my failing."

Slowly, carefully, he extended his left arm across the table, his hand meeting Shinji's right hand. Shinji was surprised, but… he didn't remove his hand or turn away. That was a sign for the older man to continue. "Shinji… I'm sorry. For making you think I didn't care. You don't deserve that. You never did. You are my responsibility. I promise you, from now on I promise I'll try to be a better guardian for your sake. If you want me to."

Shinji swallowed a lump in his throat. What could he possibly say? This was something completely out of left field!

"Th- this is all so sudden! I don't know what to say." Shinji let out in a yelp.

"You don't have to say anything." The older man had a small, bittersweet smile. "Don't worry about it, just take your time with your answer. I didn't expect you accept this right away. But I hope I can make things right. That we can be better."

Shinji had a small frown, "Yeah…"

The conversation wasn't over though. "There was something else I need to mention. I believe you when you said it was an accident when you broke the Kotei boy's hand. You're not the type to pick fights out of nowhere, you were probably forced into that fight. I wonder how you got strong though to break his hand though. You never exercised once in the entire time you lived here."

"Uhhh…" Shinji didn't expect to be questioned on that, "I'll explain it when I get home today?"

The older man made a slight smirk, "Sure. Just be careful with your strength. The Kotei boy was out of line, but you could hurt someone with that kind of power. Be responsible okay?" He got up from the table. "Now shoo. I need to handle some paperwork. Go to school."

"R-right." Shinji didn't have to think twice. He got up and went out as quickly as he could.

_______________________________________________________________________

"Yeah, haha!"

It was sunset at the warehouse. Shinji jumped from a column onto the wall, only to shoot a web up to the ceiling and swing across the room. Shooting another web string up for another swing, Shinji was elated!

School was about the same as usual. Kotei didn't mention his hand getting broken to the class, claiming he got hurt in an accident, so Shinji didn't have to worry about having everyone turning against him even more. Prof. Inumaru looked at him suspiciously, but hadn't said a word. Shinji wanted to get away as soon as possible.

Which is why after school he went back to the warehouse to train his powers. As the afternoon passed by, he found himself getting better and better. Now he got enough mastery over the powers that he could do tricks.

Shinji swung into a pack of crates, where he attached himself to them with his hands, hanging himself upside down, then jumping up to the ceiling.

Swinging around the webs was fun, but Shinji wondered what if he could swing across the buildings in the city! Or if he could travel from jumping from rooftop to rooftop like a parkour expert would! With his spider sense (he decided to call it that, considering he didn't know what else he could call it), he could sense any danger so he would be able to get himself out of any problems he faced in town. Now that he didn't have to worry about Kotei, Inumaru, his teacher, anyone else, Shinji was truly excited about what his new powers bring!

He ran across the ceiling and zipped up to the wall.

What his teacher said though…

Shinji jumped back to the ground. He wanted to believe it. He so badly wanted to believe it was true. But what if it was some kind of trick? Why now? The poor boy hadn't known affection, so to hear his teacher make his confession earlier shook him.

Thinking back though… though he didn't visit him in the hospital, he still brought Shinji his S-DAT Player. The older man taught Shinji life skills he would need for the future like cooking and even taught him to play the cello when the boy expressed an interest in it when he was four. He wasn't good at showing it but… maybe he did care?

"This is all so confusing…" Shinji said to an empty room filled with boxes.

But he was being honest. The older man opened up to him and said wanted to make things right. Shinji wasn't sure if it was going to happen, but-

"I'll tell him… I'll tell him about the spider, that I have these powers. I'll tell him everything." Shinji decided firmly.

If his teacher was able to let his defenses down, then Shinji must do the same.

He jumped out of the warehouse and started his walk back.

_______________________________________________________________________

Turning around the corner, Shinji eyes widened at the sight in front of him.

The house was surrounded by a police car and an ambulance, sirens blaring loudly.

The initial shock wearing off, Shinji panicked and ran straight through the officers to enter the house though some officers stopped him from entering.

"What's happening? What's going on?" Shinji yelled out as he tried to break away from the cops' grabbing hold on him.

Another officer came over. "You must be Takuji Yamashiro's ward, Shinji Ikari. I'm sorry to tell you but…"

"Let me go! Where's-" Shinji stopped when he saw another thing that made his heart stopped.

A group of officers were carrying a bag. A body bag.

Shinji looked over the cop who came over. "I'm sorry, but your guardian…"

"No… nonono NO!" Shinji escaped the grips of the officers as he ran to the body bag being carried away towards the ambulance car.

"Please no! YAMASHIRO! Please…" He felt his eyes getting watery as he tried to grab onto the bag, only to be pulled away by other officers. "Why… why did this happen?"

One officer held a shoulder over the poor boy. "A burglar broke into the place an hour ago. A witness heard a gunshot sound and called us in, but he managed to get away before we could arrive. From what we heard from other officers he was last seen around Mayonaka Park. We're gonna catch him-"

At that, Shinji ran away from the officers, onto the streets on his own. The officer saw for a split second trails of tears falling on the boy's face, along with fiery eyes twisted onto an angry face. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Poor kid… he needs some time to himself."

_______________________________________________________________________

Nighttime reigned in Mayonaka Park.

One of the various changes introduced to the newly christened Kokoro was the creation of a large park around the small neighborhood. It was a rather popular area for dates and tourists, intentionally done to bring some nature into the city. A forest was grown in this area, which was what the burglar was counting on when he ran inside the park to escape the police. Nighttime, fairly large trees and being very good at running are key factors in his plan. When the time is right, he'll get away with the money he stole.

This would be his lucky night!

So why was his whole body shaking? He took a brief glance at his gun. He managed to swipe it off a police officer he passed by. He thought it would make things easier for himself, but shooting that guy in his house… that wasn't part of the plan. That wasn't supposed to happen! He just wanted the money! Why didn't he just give it to him?

'He just talked to me, asking about why I was robbing… keeping me distracted while reaching for the phone!' That's what the burglar tells himself, but he was having doubts about that. He couldn't be sure. If it was a trick of the mind or something, then he wound up killing a man for nothing. He couldn't be sure and that was driving him mad.

"Calm down, you gotta get outta here!" Slowly losing his mind. he started breathing heavily as he was suffering a nervous breakdown right in the middle of the Park's forest.

A twig snapped.

"WHO'S THERE!" The burglar waved his gun around, eyes bulging in a state of panic. Looking around he couldn't see anyone. "COME OUT ALREADY!"

After several more minutes of searching, he backed up to a tree as he saw it.

A shadow a few feet from him.

"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER, I GOT A GUN YOU HEAR ME!" He screamed out in fear.

The figure came two steps closer.

"GO AWAY!" He fired the gun straight at the shadow… but it didn't hit.

In the split second that the shadow dodged the bullet, it threw something from his hand above the burglar. Then a tree branch hit the burglar's arm, knocking away the gun from his hand!

Another few seconds and the shadow was right in front of the burglar and hit his stomach. Another punch was launched into his right cheek, and another to the left! The shadow was launching a series of punches at the burglar which he can't escape from!

"You bastard, I'm gonna GET YOU!" In a small break, the burglar managed to throw a punch… but the shadow grabbed it. He grabbed hold of the fist-

"GYAAAAAAARRRRGGHHHH!" and squeezed it for all it's worth, with the intent to make the burglar suffer.

The shadow grabbed hold of the burglar with the other hand and tossed him across the forest, knocking him into a nearby lamppost!

"Why you doing this?" The burglar said in rapid, ragged breaths. "What'd I ever do to you?!"

"You know what you did, murderer." The voice of the shadow was a cold, angry tone.

The burglar's eyes widened in surprise, "I swear, I didn't mean to kill him-"

"HE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!" The burglar tried to get up, but the shadow was too quick and just whaled on him. Each punch was damaging; a broken nose, loose teeth, chest hurting like mad. The shadow had no mercy for this man. He has gone berserk. "You KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM!"

"I didn't even know his name…" The burglar let out in a hoarse voice, reeling from his injuries. "I just wanted his money… why didn't he call the cops?"

His shirt was grabbed by both of the shadow's hands. "You're going to pay for what you did!" He held him up and pushed him straight into the lamppost.

The light from the lamppost helped the burglar get a good luck at his attacker.

A kid. A small, brown haired, blue eyed kid. Who was crying and angry. The burglar got a strange sensation he had seen him before…

But the kid's face went from righteous anger into one of pure shock. The burglar could have sworn he heard him say You… The shock caused his hands to let go of the burglar, who tried to scurry away from the young boy.

"Get away from me, you little psycho!" He folded his arms around his head, crying from the pain.

A short silence passed between the two as the burglar sniffled, hugging and weeping to himself.

The burglar felt himself getting covered in something.

"You won't say anything." The burglar heard footsteps growing distant with each second.

By the time the police arrived, the burglar allowed himself get arrested.

_______________________________________________________________________

It was him.

The burglar. He was the same thief from yesterday. The one let escape with a woman's purse.

'It's all my fault.' Shinji thought as he rubbed his eyes with his shoulder. No matter how much he tried, the tears wouldn't stop. 'If I had stopped him-'

If he had stopped the thief, then Takuji Yamashiro would still be alive.

He would have told Yamashiro about his powers. They would have talked more, opened up more to one another and maybe at last have a true relationship.

'You could hurt someone with that kind of power. Be responsible okay?'

But he's gone now. And it was his fault, and he nearly beat a man to death in his anger.

The adrenaline gone, Shinji was ashamed of what he had did. What he had nearly done. He had powers and using them like that, wailing on a man… it made him sick. That and not using his powers to stop the thief when he could made him feel more shame. Shaking his head, he wanted to stop thinking. Shinji reached into his pocket. He pulled out his S-DAT player and earphones to listen to music once more. He started the walk back to his house, no doubt the police would want him to answer questions-

"HELP!"

Just as he was about to place the earphones on, he heard that word cried out in the darkness. He took a glance throughout the street and sure enough, in an alley he saw the same woman from yesterday getting accosted from some thugs.

Shinji couldn't take his eyes off of the scene. He tried walking off, to just put on the headphones and listen to his favored music.

A thug put his hand around her mouth and pushed her towards the wall while the other one dumped the contents of her purse onto the ground.

You are the only one. sou yo anata dake

But he couldn't do that. He just couldn't.

Afureteru namida sukuu no wa

His body moving without thinking, he dropped the earphones and ran straight towards the alley.

You must fly away

itsumo

omotteru

Kiseki okosu chikara wo shinjite

Author's Notes:

It’s an old one from 2018. I’m not going to be posting more chapters on here. If you want to see more adventures of this particular Spider-Shinji, go to here or here.

The song that Shinji is listening to is You are the only one by Kotono Mitsuishi, from the Lilia from Ys soundtrack. A rough translation of the lyrics is here:

(1) To a place to guide you

A flock of birds flapping

What is on the dry earth

A lot of cracked hearts

I can hear the voice that calls you

Strong enough to beat the buzz

You are the only one

(2) To a town full of sorrow

The wind of sand is blowing

Even a small piece of hope

I'll change it

(3) You are the only one

The overflowing tears

You must fly away

Believe in the power of miracles

#Shinji Ikari #Spider-Man #Evangelion #Fanfic #Crossover #Shinji Ikari: The Amazing Spider-Man #Neon Genesis Evangelion

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the-writerly-night-owl · 4 years

Text

The More You Know About Someone

Bloodbound/Adrian Raines x MC + friendship

Summary: Adrian and Lily help Buffy feel closer to her heritage.

Author’s Note: I hope that this gets some notes lol. I wasn’t sure how to feel about my last Bloodbound story, so I hope that this gets a little better. For day 29 of the 41 Days of Cheer Challenge, Far Away. There is a little Harry Potter character shout out, I hope someone notices. Enjoy!

Adrian Raines finished up his business and then down the calendar for his next task that he would have to set aside. Right now, he was ready to clock out and make his way down the block and into the night. Today was a rather special day as he just chuckled at the next order of business. In bright red for his plans was the words bowling in all capital letters.

There was a knock at the door as a face peered into the room. His ‘assistant’ if he should really call her that, had peered into the room.

“Adrian, it’s time to meet up with everyone else,” said Buffy as she set aside a clipboard. “I have the present you ordered already sent to the alley. Business letters have already been sent out and an interview with Ana de Luca.”

She looked pretty proud of herself as she tossed her dark auburn curls over her shoulder. Then smiled at him before stepping into his office.

“And I might have something for you to wear that’s a little more, well, not suit like,” she said producing a bag from behind the door.

A bit amused he looked to see a clean and pressed pair of jeans. Then a simple white polo shirt. It was still classic but not overtly so. Grinning at her he took the clothes to turn to change. Buffy just watching him if a bit shyly but still bold enough to look.

His eyes settled on her as she was already dressed and ready to go herself.

“Are we bringing Lily in?” asked Adrian and fixed his outfit. “She is who we are trying to surprise after all.”

“I just hope that she kind of forgets that it’s her birthday since she’s been so busy. I think I might be wrong though,” she said looking at her phone and showed him her post. It included many many emoji’s that included party hats. “I think we’ll have to tell her so she can at least act surprised.”

He just chuckled and nodded before giving her a quick peck on the lips. She had just closed her eyes and pressed hers a bit harder wrapping her arms around him. A bit eager he thought before wrapping one arm around her waist. Then the other around her bum lifting her onto the desk.

“Too bad it isn’t my birthday,” she teased. “Let’s just get Lily down to the bowling alley for her birthday before we go over the top.”

Nodding he straightened out his shirt and tugged her top to cover her butt. She just laughed before heading down to the lobby. Lily had looped her arms through Buffy’s arm and headed out.

“So, for my birthday, what do you think about take out and a light-hearted comedy?” she asked. “After all we went through, we just might need it. Unless of course, I’m always up for a Xenia marathon.”

Adrian shared a look with Buffy as she just shrugged. At least she had no idea about the party that they had planned. Flashy bowling balls and all. They had to take the long way around as Buffy had formulated some kind of plan.

“Hey, I heard of this bar and bowling alley that’s not too far away. Want to check it out?” asked Buffy

“Oh my gosh yes, plenty of shots to go around!” she said fist bumping and turned the corner. Well it was glad to see that Lily was going to enjoy herself.

Adrian had taken Buffy’s hand and squeezed it gently as she just bumped into him softly. They were definitely going to have to sneak out a bit later. They had passed by several colorful store fronts and an empty construction lot. He bit his bottom lip and contemplated on stopping to keep Lily from getting there too soon.

“Hmm,” said Buffy breathing in a smell of something.

She had stopped to investigate a store front as he stopped with her and Lily. Buffy had stared long and hard at the window with a small sweet smile on her face.

“Buffy?” asked Adrian as Lily stopped to stare as well.

“Wow those look amazing,” she said. “What are those?”

“Yakgwa,” said Buffy pointing to something that looked like salted caramel, but probably wasn’t. Then to something else that was in fun shapes. “Dalgona.”

Adrian stepped back and looked up at the front. Judging from what he knew that this was a Korean Bakery. Buffy had stopped with a sad smile on her face but still a smile. He just squeezed her hand once more to tell him what was wrong.

“How did you know that?” asked Lily.

“Right, it never came up,” she said looking at them. “I’m kind of a quarter Korean? My grandfather had escaped Korea back when there was war in the country. He started out in San Francisco before making his way to Missouri with my grandmother. My mom’s maiden name is Chang if that helps at all. Grandpa used to teach me all kinds of stuff about my heritage growing up. We used to make Dalgona together.”

He just smiled thinking about a young Buffy spending time with her grandfather in the kitchen. Baking up sweets after coming home from a long day at school. He had only known her for about a year and a half or so now? There was still so much that they had to learn about each other.

“I can picture you being the type to sneak sweets here and there,” he said. “I guess you were close?”

“Very,” she said touching. “He lived long enough to see me graduate high school.”

“Aww,” said Lily. “Let’s go in and get some. It won’t be like your grandpa’s but I bet it’ll be good. We don’t have anywhere else to be right now anyway?”

Adrian just looked at Buffy raising his eyebrows at her. She just pretended to think about it before pulling the door open. Together they had entered the shop a woman sweeping up for the night and a few customers still lingering around.

“I like learning more about you like this,” said Adrian to Buffy once they were away from Lily and she had a tried a free sample. “It’s like unwrapping a present with a new surprise on the inside.”

“And I think you might have stolen that line from Full House,” she teased as he just looked at her a bit puzzled, that sounded a little familiar to him. “Never mind.” She had pulled him into a kiss as he could taste something sweet on her lips. He didn’t know what it was, but it tasted nice.

“Now I still have to know, how did you end up with this gorgeous shade of red hair?” he asked grinning at her. “I feel as if we’re flirting more then usual.”

“It’s because we are, things have finally settled down after what happened. Everything is back to normal and we’re in a relationship. It’s what couples do,” she said bouncing a little on her feet. “The red hair because my dad has red hair.”

She tossed her auburn locks once more to show off the vividness of it.

“I will never apologize for being a redhead,” she said smirking some. “I represent two percent of the population.”

He just chuckled and looked around at the sweets. It was sold by the pound as he found a bag and started to fill it. Buffy filling in the gaps of what would good ones to get. Their bag being filled with treats and goodies.

“Wow, Buffy I’m glad you found this place,” said Lily with a bag of her own. “I swear we will probably spend a lot of time here.”

Adrian’s phone pigged as it was Kamilah telling them to keep Lily away for an extra twenty minutes or so. Apparently, they were having some electrical problems and would be fixed by around nine. He checked the time to see it was only seven. Good thing day light saving’s time was being observed as it wouldn’t be out and about otherwise.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s go to that Korean restaurant down the street. After all we do have a translator now.”

Buffy looked at him a bit confused and he just forwarded Kamilah’s text to her phone. He watched her face as she skimmed over it and nodded.

“Hey what makes you think that I can speak it,” she said as they paid for their snacks. Well the party will have some extra food there.

“Can you?” asked Lily slightly impressed. “I mean the closest to me speaking it, is that I once saw a show where a nun has to pretend to be her twin brother and join a boy band. He has to recover from a botched plastic surgery job.”

Buffy just laughed and nodded. “That show is called You’re Beautiful by the way. Yes I can actually speak it.”

With that she said something that he could barely keep up with. Okay now Adrian really couldn’t help but laugh a little as he pulled her into a hug. Buffy was just wonderful and glad to be part of her life. Lily just smiled and watched them a bit amused but pleased with herself to learn that show.

Together the three made their way down to the restaurant and ordered something for a light take out.

“So why don’t’ you tell us something about you?” asked Buffy. “I mean there’s still plenty I don’t know about the illustrious Adrian Raines.”

“I don’t know about illustrious,” he said before thinking about something. “I speak French fluently and I’ve…” He paused to think of something that would make her laugh. “I’ve taken a nap once in every state in the United States.”

Lily snorted and Buffy just laughed.

“I like learning more about you Buffy,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close with someone.” He brushed a hair from her face and looked down at his phone with a text from Kamilah to start heading over. They had fixed whatever the issue was early enough.

“Well thank you guys,” she said looking at them. “I never felt so far away from my grandfather before. Part of my heritage that I’ve loved being apart of with him.”

“I hope we don’t make you feel that far away again,” said Adrian kissing her forehead softly.

“And talk about it with me all the time,” gushed Lily pulling her friend into a hug. Adrian had made a show of looking at his phone and then at the girls.

“Now let’s head to this bar bowling alley. It sounds like your kind of scene Lily.”

She just got excited and started to run ahead before following right behind with their stuff. Buffy and Adrian exchanging a smirk of their own. Not only did he get a chance to learn more about her. He also got a chance to throw a nice surprise party in the end.

Tag list: @flyawayboo @am-i-invisible777 @adrianadmirer @fluffy-cat-whisper @melodyofgraves @paisleylovergirl @elainew13 @itsbrindleybinch @brightpinkpeppercorn @darley1101 @mfackenthal @jlpplays1 @writerapprentice @wildsayeed @princess-geek @perriewinklenerdie @lilyofchoices @radlovedreamer @symonde @indescribablechoices

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isitgintimeyet · 5 years

Text

The Ties That Bind

AO3

Thank you for reading this far. I really appreciate it. I still get nervous posting each chapter. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta

Warning: bit NSFW towards the end

Chapter 8: A Dinner Invitation

“Her cuisine is limited but she has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotchwoman.” Sherlock Holmes― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Naval Treaty

Jamie hesitated for a minute before he knocked on the door of the flat. He was slightly nervous, which he didn’t really understand. Since their first dinner, they had met twice more - once for a walk and a coffee before Claire had to return to work, and once for a drink. In his eyes, both had gone really well. And presumably in Claire’s eyes too, as she had extended this invitation for Jamie to come to her flat for dinner. Perhaps that was where the nervousness came from. Jamie felt like Claire had built a safety barrier around her, for her own emotional protection and for him to be willingly invited through the barrier into her safe haven was a great honour. Jamie didn’t want to let her down. He took a deep, calming breath and knocked on the door.

The door opened and a rich smell filled Jamie’s nostrils. Claire stood on the threshold, her hair a wild array, wearing a striped butcher’s apron and brandishing a large wooden spoon. She greeted him with a warm kiss, her mouth tasting of garlic and tomato. She nimbly pulled away before Jamie had a chance to extend the kiss.

“Welcome, welcome. Come on in.”

Jamie followed Claire through the hallway and into the main living room.

“I’ve brought ye a bottle,” he said, handing her a bottle bag emblazoned with ‘Happy Birthday’ in silver sparkly lettering. “Sorry about the bag, picked it up in a hurry. Consider it a late birthday gift for yer last birthday, Sassenach.”

Claire lifted the bottle out. “Oh, wow, that’s really special. And possibly the latest or earliest birthday gift I’ve ever received.”

She careful placed the bottle of Broch Tuarach Special Reserve whisky on the coffee table. “Thank you so much. I’ll look forward to some sampling after dinner.”

Gently running her fingers down his forearm, she looked into his eyes and smiled. Returning to her normal brisk manner, she explained, “I can’t cook many things, but my lasagne is not bad at all. Pour yourself a glass of wine. It’s on the dining table; I just need to pop it in the oven. Be back in a minute.”

Jamie poured himself a glass of wine - red, he noticed, the same as they had ordered at the restaurant the week before - and looked around. Although the room itself was decorated in neutral tones, creams and beiges on the walls, natural wood plantation shutters at the large bay window, there was a relaxed and homely feel due to the accessories Claire had chosen. Earth toned plaid throws and cushions adorned the cosy-looking sofa. A yucca plant, standing at least as tall as Jamie himself, graced one corner. Another corner held a floor to ceiling bookcase crammed with an eclectic mix of books: some medical, some on plants and herbs, some murder mysteries, Jane Austen novels, Beatrix Potter tales and Winnie the Pooh. One shelf was dedicated to old history textbooks. Entwined around the bookcase was a set of fairy lights, casting a glow over all the books. Jamie reached over and ran his fingers over the spines.

With the lasagne in the oven and the salad already made, Claire knew that dinner was well in hand. She took a big gulp of her wine. Really, she seemed to be developing quite a taste for red wine. The key thing, she told herself, was not to drink too much tonight. She wasn’t totally sure yet how the evening would end, but she wanted to be sober enough to make conscious decisions, and to enjoy herself no matter what happened. Sex with Jamie had featured heavily in her thoughts over the past week. Claire wasn’t sure it had ever been like this with Frank, or perhaps it had and those memories had just faded away to be replaced by those of criticisms, nit-picking and uncomfortable silences.

Claire took another gulp of wine as she picked up the salad bowl. What will be, will be, she told herself, heading back into the living room.

As she entered, she found Jamie standing, looking at her books. “Quite a wide selection ye have here.” he commented.

Claire felt herself reddening slightly. The books were her treasured possessions, they were what defined her. She didn’t usually explain their importance to people, didn’t usually want to. But she wanted Jamie to know her, to understand her, to deepen the connection she knew was there.

“Those books are so important to me. The medical ones, obviously, for my job, my vocation. Medicinal plants and herbs is a real passion of mine, one I’d like to develop in the future.”

She moved closer. “As a teenager I fell in love with Jane Austen’s books. Feisty women, strong men… what’s not to love? I even had pictures of Mr. Darcy on my bedroom wall. The history books belonged to Uncle Lamb. I kept them with me after he died. He was a professor at Oxford, specialising in the Crusades. Every holiday, we’d be off, following the steps of those Crusaders.”

“Like Indiana Jones?”

“Not nearly so adventurous, lots of walking, lots of libraries, lots of late night discussions with fellow historians, occasional digging. No spies or nazis. Most danger was being chased by dogs in Antakya. Me running ‘til I thought my chest would burst, Uncle Lamb panting beside me and yelling insults in Turkish to the dogs. I must have been about nine or ten.”

There was a brief silence before Claire started talking again. “The Beatrix Potter and Winnie the Pooh are mine from when I was a child. I don’t have many things from my mum and dad, don’t even have many memories of them. I was only five when they died in a car accident. But what I do remember is lying in my bed, Mum on one side of me, Dad on the other and them reading these to me… Mum doing the narrative bits, dad doing the voices, you know, Eeyore, Tigger, Piglet and so on. I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world, having parents who could read stories so well. And that image, that memory, that’s what I want for my children...” Her voice tailed off, now afraid she had shared too much.

Jamie pulled her close, her head nestling against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, calm, steady, reassuring. One large hand cradled her head, the other spanned her back. He radiated warmth and security.

“Och, lass.” he whispered.

“And the fairy lights,” Claire continued. “I know they’re a bit twee, but after my parents died, when I went to live with Lamb, I had difficulty sleeping, was scared of the dark. Lamb set up fairy lights in my bedroom, told me that mum and dad were now stars in the sky and the fairy lights represented those stars, to remind me that they were watching over me as I slept. So they’re always here with me. Silly, I know.”

“It’s no’ silly at all. It’s beautiful, Sassenach. Yer uncle must have been a rare man.”

“Oh, he was. To take on someone else’s child, full time… I never felt unloved or a burden to him. Even though I must have cramped his style no end!”

A bell rang out from the kitchen. Claire pulled out of Jamie’s embrace. “Time to eat.”

“Just one more question… why the murder mystery books?”

Claire turned as she headed for the kitchen. “Never know when those techniques may come in handy.” She grinned and waggled her eyebrows mischievously.

******

Claire was wrong, Jamie thought as he leant back in his dining chair, stuffed with lasagne. Her lasagne was not ‘not bad’, actually it was fantastic.

“That was great.” He complimented enthusiastically.

“Now you know the extent of my culinary skills… lasagne, salad… oh, and I can do a pretty good bacon sandwich. But that’s more a breakfast thing though.” She stopped abruptly, scared of giving him the wrong (or was it the right?) impression. “Would you like a dessert? I have some ice cream, or sorbet. Or would you like a coffee? I can make some proper stuff.”

“Nay, I’m fit tae bursting here. What I would like is fer us to sit on the sofa and I will educate ye in the proper way tae drink that whisky.”

“Suits me fine. I’ll go and get some glasses.”

Claire returned to find Jamie sitting on the sofa, opening the whisky bottle. She placed the heavy crystal tumblers on the table together with an ice bucket. Jamie looked at her and pursed his lips tightly.

“First rule of whisky: no ice. It crushes the flavour, ye ken. And when it melts ye canna control how it dilutes the whisky. If ye like ye can add a wee bit of water tae open up the flavours, but try it w’out first. Glasses are good, though. Heavy base, nice. If ye want tae sniff it first, ye can use tulip-shaped glasses, but these look better.” He poured a generous measure into the glasses and handed one to Claire. “Slainte. Tell me what ye think.”

Claire sipped the whisky, savouring the complex flavours. “That’s wonderful. There’s a sweetness to it, it somehow reminds me of fruit cake, like at Christmas.” She lifted the bottle, studying the label.

“That’s verra good. Ye’ve quite the palate. This is aged in sherry barrels, that’s the sweet fruitiness.”

“Hang on,” Claire read the label again. “The distillery name here, it says ‘Fraser and Sons’. Is that you?”

“Aye, I’m the son... weel, technically I’m the great, great, great however many times grandson. But, aye, my da heads up the distillery. He’s the CEO. He lives up there in the village, Broch Mordha.”

“And that’s what you’ll do when he retires?”

“Nothing’s ever certain. Perhaps. We have shareholders, ye ken. Mebbe they’ll no’ want me. But it would be an honour to follow on from my da. He’s a great man.”

“And I’m sure his son will be just as great.”

Jamie shrugged nonchalantly, but Claire could tell he was pleased by the compliment. Claire took another sip as Jamie watched, her lips moistened by the whisky. She looked up at him as he lifted her glass and placed it gently on the table. The room was suddenly filled with tension, like static electricity, sparks shooting between them, emanating from their very cores.

Almost as if in slow motion, Claire raised her hand and placed the palm on Jamie’s chest, feeling the hardness of those muscles and his heartbeat speeding up with each breath. As she moved her fingers, she could feel his wiry chest hairs though the thin fabric of his shirt. He was so strong and big and… and any thoughts of playing it cool rushed right out of her head as she leant forward to touch her lips to his. She felt Jamie’s arms wrap around her tightly and she was lost. She opened her lips under his, letting her tongue slide inside his mouth, feeling his entwine with hers. His hands rubbed against her back as he pulled her onto his lap. His arousal pressed hard against her and she felt her own response deep within.

Jamie was the first to break the kiss. Locking eyes with Claire, he asked hoarsely “Are ye sure about this? I dinna want ye tae do anything ye may regret. Ye’ve no’ had too much tae drink, have ye?”

In response, Claire stood up and pulled Jamie to his feet. With fingers intertwined, she led Jamie out of the room, across the hallway and to her bedroom. He stopped her at the door, keeping her firmly in his grasp.

“Are ye sure?” He asked again, running his hand down the side of her face.

She nodded wordlessly and pulled him into the room, closing the door behind them. The room was dimly lit with one small bedside light. Claire moved to turn it off. Jamie stopped her. “If ye dinna mind, I want tae look at ye.”

Standing beside the bed, Claire ran her hands up under Jamie’s shirt, over his chest, and down his back. She slid her hands under the waistband of his jeans to his firm buttocks.

Jamie lowered his head to her neck, peppering her skin with a trail of feathery kisses from her earlobe and down her neck. His fingers hurriedly undid the buttons of her shirt creating a path for his kisses to continue their descent into the cleft between her breasts. Claire threw her head back, letting the sensation of his lips wash over her and then gasped as Jamie lifted her up and placed her on the bed in one motion. She smiled up at him as he sat down beside her and pulled her shirt off her shoulders. She raised slightly from the bed and shrugged it off, not caring where it landed, just desperate for the contact of skin on skin.

Turning his attention to her jeans, Jamie quickly unzipped them and tugged them down as Claire lifted her hips to aid this process. Finally free of the jeans, Jamie groaned out loud at the sight of her lying on the bed, clad in her cream lace bra and panties. Jamie could clearly see her nipples outlined through the fabric, already erect demanding his touch. Through the lacy panties, he could see the dark shadow of her pubic hair. He knew, if he touched her, how wet she would be.

Claire pulled at his shirt. “Take it off.” She pleaded.

Jamie rose from the bed and pulled his shirt over his head. Claire reached out to pull him down to her but teasingly he stepped away, prolonging the tension. He undid his trousers and bent down to pull them off, fumbling momentarily on the ground.

“Socks,” He explained, grinning. “They’re no’ verra sexy.”

Claire could clearly see the extent of his arousal through his tight white trunks. Sitting up, she ran her hands up his thighs, cupping his balls before curling her fingers in the waistband and pulling the trunks cleanly down. They joined the rest of their discarded clothes on the floor as he stepped out of them. Without thinking, she ran her fingers along his length, revelling in the contrast of hardness and velvet softness. She could hear his intake of breath at her touch.

Still without touching her, Jamie lay on his side next to her on the bed. His eyes moved back to the cream lace of her bra, staring intently. His tongue moistened his lips. Claire felt desperate for his hands on her body.

“Jamie,” she whispered.

Finally, he touched her, his hand lazily moving across her abdomen, tracing circles round her navel before coming to rest with the underside of her breast nestling in the palm of his hand. His thumb stroked her lace covered nipple. She looked into his deep blue eyes, filled with lust and could hold back no longer.

Claire pushed him onto his back and stretched one leg over to straddle his hips. Kneeling up, she reached behind and unhooked her bra, letting it fall down her arms. Instinctively, his hips rose up, his erection pressing insistently against her core, sending sparks of excitement through her body. Jamie tugged her forward and she fell against his chest. Cupping her breasts, he moved under her, fitting her against him so he could taste her breasts, each one in turn.

As Jamie alternated from breast to breast, Claire began to grind against him, striving to increase the sensations through her body. She moved against him restlessly and slid down his body, licking and nibbling down his chest then lower and lower until he felt her head resting against his groin. He bucked against her mouth and pulled her back up. “Not now,” he growled against her throat, “I need tae be inside ye.” With one swift move, he lay Claire on her back, hovering above her and slid her panties down. Claire kicked her legs to free herself from them.

“Wait.” Claire reached into a bedside cabinet, producing a small foil packet. “Please.”

She handed it to Jamie. He quickly ripped the packet open with his teeth and rolled the condom on. Claire opened to him and Jamie slid one large finger down, slowly teasing her.

Finally, he could stand it no longer. Claire stared up into his eyes as she felt him moving within her. Her pleasure built in time with the rhythm of Jamie’s movements back and forth, plunging deeply and withdrawing almost completely, trying to prolong the excitement he felt. He reached his hand between them and quickly found what he was looking for. Rubbing in time with his strokes, he could feel Claire’s muscles tensing round him, her deep moans growing in intensity.

As Claire’s orgasm took hold of her whole body, Jamie withdrew his hand and with a guttural cry, he climaxed. They lay together, still joined, breathing heavily as their heart rates slowly returned to normal. Moving onto his back, Jamie nestled Claire against his chest, kissing the top of her head.

He whispered something against her hair. Claire raised her head.

“What did you say?” She asked.

“Sorcha - your name in Gaelic. It means light. Like in the French, aye? Clair is light. Ye have yer fairy lights and now I have ye, my Claire, my Sorcha.”

#outlander fanfic #outlander fan fiction #the ties that bind #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #chapter 8

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wahoo-stomp · 5 years

Text

I’ve never really been a big listener to One Direction.

Okay. That’s a lie. I literally don’t listen to One Direction. Got nothing against them – just never really had any interest, and my music tastes are…limited. So I was more than a little surprised when my Spotify playlist led to a 1D song in the Year of Our Lord 2019. I know Spotify can sometimes select a song that it thinks you’ll like based on what you listen to – but the artist I’d been listening to wasn’t even in the same genre. So imagine my surprise when I’m greeted with—

You're insecure Don't know what for You're turning heads when you walk through the door.

Okay first of all, what?

This is roughly when I reached for my phone to change the song, but then my brain did that thing where it went “eh what the heck” and I let it play a little longer. It didn’t take long for me to see that this is one of many songs with a theme of the singer talking to someone and telling them they’re more attractive than they realize. It’s not the most original concept, but there was nothing particularly offensive to me about this iteration of it, so I let the song continue further. I admit I like pop styled tunes, probably because of a whole bunch of stuff a music theorist could better explain than I can, so it was fun to listen to – and then suddenly something jumped out at me.

I hardly believe I’m saying this, but I’m going to recommend listening to the song to see what I’m talking about if you don’t know it, and NO, this isn’t a plug for a defunct boy band.

Okay, you’ve listened to the point where they go “If only you saw what I can see—” you can pause it there.

So far the artists have stuck to what I would call pleasant but superficial comments. Hair flicking is…not really anything that stands out to me, since frankly I care more about eyes and anyways we’re talking from the perspective of a guy who might be asexual and aromantic (can I say that? I’m still trying to figure it out, so I’m not sure I’m right anyway and hopefully I didn’t irk anyone just now). Lighting up the world, yada yada yada. Heard it all before, will hear it again. But then, when the line mentioned above played, my attention was instantly grabbed.

Now before I explain why that is the case, I’m gonna let ya’ll in on a little secret. I’m super, super duper, super duper duper insecure. I know, right? You never would have guessed*. Nah, but all joking aside, one of the things I struggle with most is a feeling of…worth. Now I do have people in my life who tell me they love me – I have friends who (I think) think pretty highly of me, and I have a job and am overall doing okay for a millennial trying to survive as a liberal arts major in this economic nightmare we call “capitalism.” But even all that granted, I struggle everyday with the idea that I’m really worthy of love or interest or anything along that line. This is largely because I am acutely aware of my faults, including the ones I (gasp) try to hide from others. Fact is, I have a scrolling list of ways in which I bungle things, sometimes daily, and it’s not all that easy to see myself as valuable when I have said list.

*You literally guessed after three seconds.

I can hear you saying “no one is perfect, Josh.” Yeah, I know. Heck, the characters in my other blogs are learning that as we speak (even though I think Rocky is pretty darn close). Still doesn’t keep me from berating myself. Sometimes, if we’re totally honest, the internal and external pressures I face are nearly enough to make me give up on myself as a lost cause.

“Okay, um, this is depressing. Does it get better?”

Well, I have one more thing to add. I’m a Christian.

*cue sirens*

Christians are a scary bunch to some folks, and, uh, I don’t always blame them. Some people claiming to represent Jesus suck immensely at it and there is an extensive list of people who do so that I wish I could just tell to shut up. But, with your permission, we’ll skip over the common stereotypes associated with radical Christianity and, for now, summarize my faith perspective as the following statement – I see God as my friend, and I believe the converse is true.

Good. We’ve got that out of the way.

Here’s the problem. If my faith is to be believed, God knows me inside and out – meaning God knows what an idiot I can be. That’s disconcerting. That’s unnerving. That’s freakin’ terrifying – not because I expect God to drop a bolt of lightning on my face (again, not that kind of “Christian”), but for the same reason I don’t tell all of YOU how messy I can be – I don’t want you to hate me or give up on me and decide I’m not worth it.

Okay. That’s a lot of laundry, but I promise I’m getting to a point.

When I say I see God as a friend, I recognize how that might sound. Many faith traditions not only disagree with that statement, but disagree on the nature of God, period. I’m not here to argue with those folks. Disagreement and respect are compatible. If you don’t mind hearing me out, though, perhaps my perspective on God in relation to a 1D song will provide you with either (a) some encouragement or (b) the final confirmation you need that I am in fact a lunatic. We shall see.

If only you saw what I can see You'll understand why I want you so desperately Right now I'm looking at you and I can't believe You don't know You don't know you're beautiful!

Okay, that rolls off the tongue well. What does it have to do with what I mentioned above? Well, if I may be allowed to withdraw a sample (emphasis on sample, I strongly encourage reading the full context of this thing) from the pre-Christian writings of Scripture, more specifically the book of Psalms, chapter 139, verses 17 and 18:

“How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you.”

“Okay, great. Where’s the connection?”

Well, although this particular piece doesn’t mention it, there are a variety of instances in scriptural writ where God’s thoughts towards people, be they individuals or nations, are referenced as positive. (Yes, there are negative examples too, often stated as part of a judgment passage, but I am not skilled in the subject of God’s judgment and will not attempt to go into depth on it right now). The chapter at large acknowledges God’s presence throughout the writers life, even predating birth. For the record, the writer of this particular Psalm, was, uh, messed up. David did some stuff right but whoa nelly he really did some screwball stuff (to put it incredibly lightly) – so we’re not looking at someone who’s perfect when he talks about God’s thoughts.

If we take this piece of writing, therefore, and slightly change the perspective of the speaker…we might end up with a (rather less cliché sounding) 1D song. Now before someone burns me at the proverbial stake, let me clarify what I mean. (NO, I’m not equating holy writ with pop music, promise.)

Let us assume, that these positive examples of God’s thoughts, can be applied to ourselves – or to you and me, to bring it home. If this is the case, when we regard ourselves as unworthy of love, or not valuable, or ugly (a struggle for me personally) or whatever else, is it entirely unreasonable that God’s reaction might be something along the lines of the chorus above?

I think that if we refer back even earlier to that venerable writ in the Torah known as Genesis, we can encounter God’s initial thought on the creation of humankind. Essentially, “It was very good (1:31).”

(For the record, it goes downhill from there as far as the whole “being good” thing goes, but for that moment, at least, God was pretty excited with the state of humankind.)

So let us now take the (limited) textual context and apply it to the, song, taking some creative license (and removing any romantic preconceptions).

Dear one I’d light up the world for nobody else To see a smile on your face makes me smile as well No matter what you may think it’s not hard to tell I still know, oh oh You are just so beautiful If only you saw what I can see You’ll understand why I care for you constantly Right now I’m looking at you and I can’t believe You don’t know – you are just so beautiful.

Okay, now here’s something I feel obligated to clarify. I’m not a fan of fluffy faith. I’m also not a fan of reducing suffering and emotional struggle to a single sentence. Band-aid solutions and glib encouragement irk me. So I am not pretending for a moment that I know what anyone reading this is going through. Really, I’m just writing something for myself and hoping that something in it provides encouragement for others.

Essentially, I believe God’s perception of our value is not tied to ours, and I’m encouraged by the idea that someone smarter than me knows just what I’m capable of, and loves me despite all my dirty laundry.

That doesn’t mean I recommend using 1D as a source of spiritual encouragement.

I do recommend considering the possibility that your favorite love song or the things that encourage you could very well be used by God to try to communicate God’s thoughts to you. Furthermore, I do recommend acknowledging your value is not caught up in only your perspective, and that there are so many ways in which you are valued…beautiful, that you may not even see.

After all, perfection isn’t attainable – but if you don’t dismiss something because it’s imperfect, why would God?

Everyone else in the room can see it, Maybe it’s time you did too.

#josh's journals #long post #faith?#1d #if that set of tags isn't strange i dunno what is lol #but i've had a week™#and this stuff just...came to me

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lighthouseofthewanderess · 6 years

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Goodbye

We’re all clear success isn’t a measure of the cars you own, the house, a perfect job, or family vacations every year. I’m sick of all the quotes that do nothing but bounce off the surface. The supposed pushing of self to do better and get to the end of the rainbow. But a rainbow’s a pretty swell thing by its own. The pot of gold is just a carrot to think you’re getting somewhere. Here’s a thought -- what if every day, you’re already there. Whatever moment you’re expecting when you reach the end is what you’re capable of feeling right here, right now. People underrate the small things that contribute equally to the meaning of ‘success’.

Being a single parent is harder than they say it is. I’ve seen my mom spend all her time with me for the past 2 decades and give up equally much. She stayed in a job just because there was no other alternative. She broke it to her daughter that there simply was no money to pursue medical science. But I see her stand tall next to me; as If I represent all the years she’s put in. Her face has wrinkled, her eyes widen up as she counts out change for the groceries. She forgets things, sometimes even gifts that I’ve got for her. I’ve never seen her pamper herself, try to marry again, or meet anyone even. Her life was simply never in the equation. It was always about me. For her, the measure of success is giving me a life she thought she couldn’t. Not without the concept of a family. Her little ways of knowing she’s done good is letting me pick whatever color of curtain I wanted in my room. To take me around town in a first-hand car. To cover the prices on the menu and warn me not to piss her off. That’s what I’m talking about. Yesterday maybe, none of this would’ve been possible, but today it is. And they’re all a bunch of little things that reflect equally on a point in life when things aren’t out of whack. When I take her out for dinner or book ourselves a spa date she shies away and says its a lot of money. But it also gives her another measure; her daughter is spending on things that were a luxury in her time. Here progress is success.

I remember making a little list of things I want to buy when I get a job. To me, success meant landing a good job. It meant reaching a moment where you can start building castles in the sky. But once I got there, I didn’t feel like I achieved anything. I felt it in the little things but not in walking into a job that I had landed. In a coffee from Starbucks -- a shop that was always far from my reach. In buying books off Amazon and watching the parcels reach an address. In a solo trip where money just melted away. Where I would have the luxury to take a couple days off and see a new place without anyone to steer my ship. I would smile whenever I found myself not giving it much thought but just doing the things I want. That was a little victory. For someone who’s always thought of the money first, to spend on herself. Here freedom is success.

Maybe I’m still talking about elusive things. Let’s come down to my clear compass for a sense of achievement. I’ve seen how movies have it all wrong. A serial killer probably turned out that way because he had an abusive childhood. The villain got his pure hatred because he was bullied in school. She saw violence as a child and ended up in prostitution. What are these character sketches even? Taking a minuscule sampling and repeating it on film over and over again until the jokes along the same vein start to prop up. Those who have gone through some trauma run the risk of personality disorders, clinical depression, insomnia, and a whole host of other issues. But there’s two ways to look at it. Either you add to those silly stereotypes or prove them wrong. And as a strong-headed Aries, I just had to prove them wrong.

The last few years saw me deal with all my big D related problems. I was doing great at work, the organization was bagging awards with things I had helped on. That’s because I had high-functioning anxiety. It helped me be super productive, have my mind on multiple things and move really fast with it all. It didn’t do anything for my self confidence. For the award night, I remember shopping alone trying to pick out a dress that would help me look like ‘I got this thing’. Even when I found it, I felt insecure wearing it. And on the stage a pretty girl smiled and shook hands but I was caving into myself. This wasn’t the sweet taste of success if inside I felt I didn’t deserve it. Getting out of the house was a task, every day felt like I didn’t have the strength in me. It was as though the wind would blow me away. On my bike, riding slow, I would feel the wheels drifting off to the side. Where was my center of gravity? Where was that core that would forever burn my light like the sun? Even on the off days, I wouldn’t like to get near the bed and give myself a break. I kept myself busy because the mind was a great magician who convinced me I wasn’t doing enough in life. It was a slow but painful process. To get out, to spend time with friends after dark. To tell myself that I am good enough, and where I am is good enough. Getting that positivity in me took forever, but once it did, I found happiness in the small things. In throwing a house party, in buying a swimming costume, in trying on outfits that were clearly chic. But that’s where I found my success. And like it or not, these small bursts count more than publications, headlines, awards, piled up gifts, or insane hikes. Success here is gifting yourself memories.

A colleague of mine, Kavya, brought out another important facet to this whole conversation. We ended up good people. People capable of loving, of giving and taking the world as it comes. The intricacies of why it is hard will be felt only if you went through something equally bad. And while I’m at it, let me give a tip for the people who you might be helping out. Please don’t say ‘I know what you’re feeling.’ It gets us super annoyed; not because we’re better at feeling pain but because it is impossible for any human to know and feel what the other person is going through. So stick to more harmless things like ‘I’m there for you.’ or “Do you want ice cream’ -- these we don’t mind so much. Going back to Kavya’s words as we sat up on the terrace talking about life and the like. Loving had to mean feeling. And just the right amount. If you felt nothing or way too much, it could fall into a disorder. I look at us like double-edged swords. On one side we're reactive and can lash out. And on the other we simply are our past, which could be dangerous in itself. To move from there and give love, I started with accepting what happened to me. To tell myself hurting another person because I was hurt isn’t going to heal me. To believe that the other person is deserving of my love even though I have been deprived of it. And getting comfortable with the fact that revenge is reserved for the movies and in real life it is spiteful. It meant building walls because only you are ever really there for yourself. You may have a wonderful partner, a loving family, but at the end of the day no one is going to war for you when you’re not in the picture. Then it was about operating this mechanism where the walls can come down instead of breaking it down entirely and exposing yourself. And this thought didn’t come without a few burnt fingers. Moments filled with too much hope in the world only to limp back because what else did you expect? Moments filled too much hate that it turned the atmosphere sour and made you cancel plans for the fear of ruining it again. After the walls were strong and the self fortified, there was still one big, huge quality I struggled to get. Trust was my biggest fear. To me it meant giving direct access to my castle, to operate the walls at their will. And I just couldn’t do it. Even with my own mom I couldn't. It wasn’t shown in the big decisions like where to invest what. I am smart enough to let people who know it better, do it. But it came in directing her on the streets because I didn't trust her to do it on her own. In standing next to her as she baked cake because I was sure it’ll get messed up. My mom didn’t know about my anxiety issues for 2 years either because I couldn’t trust her to believe me. I didn’t think she would get it, I was worried she’ll not even consider it a problem. That big cloud of imagined consequences kept me from telling her anything about my life. This is something I did with a lot of people. I kept my castle in plain sight and widened the moat around it. The cold distance could be felt the minute someone saw me from afar. I wasn’t welcoming, I didn’t want to be everyone's friend. I didn’t trust them enough to stay, to not leave me behind. And so, I didn’t want to give them any leverage either to hurt me with my own stories. I’ve stayed with one workplace for 4 years, I saw many people come and go. People I couldn’t deny not loving. Sunflowers that just spread so much light and happiness in my life that I couldn’t stop myself from trusting them. And when they left, I felt pangs of loss. I felt that I will be forgotten, no one sunflower will come my way or that this was all just a game. But thanks to them, and the way they still tuned in on my life, I realized trust is something you build over time. It is like a bridge. The walls stay, the moat stays. But everyone who really wants to know you will spend time to build that bridge and stay inside. Success here is letting love in. Till today, I’ve done a great job of not trusting people. Years have flown and yet the closest ones to me know only a fraction. It is an inside joke with myself. People think I open up easy. I share willingly and matters of sensitivity. That I am an open book. But in reality, it’s only the pages I’ve shown you that you’ve read. But now it’s all out, the entire thing. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to let you in, and now that you’ve met the real me, I hope you stay.

#nanowrimo #nano 2018 #nano writing #writing #writedaily #wrimo #loveforwriting #writing challenge #done #life story #lifestruggles #trust

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argyle-s · 6 years

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THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME CHAPTER 17/38

Rating: Mature

Read at Ao3

Start at the Beginning

Kara introduced Cat to her new assistant, Alex and Maggie work together for the first time, and Cat comes to a decision.

Thanks to @ifourmindbeso for her great work as a beta. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Chapter 17 – Introductions and Resolutions

There were just a few hours left until the launch gala started. She’d gotten confirmation earlier in the day that copies of the issue had been delivered by messenger to the White House, and dozens of Senators and Representatives’ offices, as well as to both Sam and Lucy Lane. She’d put copies in Lois’ hands personally when she’d greeted her at the airport the previous night and knew Lois had passed one on to her cousin and Diana. She’d arranged to have copies for Bruce and the rest of the Gotham contingent waiting in their hotel rooms when they checked in. Alex had taken the first few copies off the press back to the DEO with her so she, Susan, Hank, and the entire intelligence analysis team could review them.

All in all, she was enormously pleased with the issue itself. None of the articles could be called a puff piece, except maybe the sections on Kryptonian fashion which did end up using photos from the photo shoot and the collection of Earth-adapted Kryptonian recipes in the food section. The articles Cat had written, and in total she’d written four, were filled with a mixture of both praise and criticism for Kara herself, and for Superman on the rare occasion he was mentioned. There was the feature, there was an article which talked about the difficulties refugees often had in retaining their own culture, and the difficulties they faced in adapting to a new culture. There was a historical look at the hostility immigrants had faced in US history, and lastly, an interview with one of the passengers on National City Airlines Flight 237. Every article in the issue was well-written, well-researched, and related to Supergirl in some way. It was everything she’d hoped.

The problem was everything seemed to demand Kara’s attention. She’d finally been forced to hand off the autographing of the magazines to Winn, who was currently feeding copy after copy into the autopen while someone from the secretarial pool slipped the signed issues into the swag bags. The hotel was on the line every five minutes about some security issue or other until finally, she’d had to give them Alex and Maggie’s phone numbers and just let them handle it. She’d had an argument with the Commissioner of Police earlier when he’d called, wanting to replace Maggie as the NCPD liaison. She’d finally had to drop Supergirl’s name, telling the Commissioner that she’d gotten Maggie’s name from Supergirl and that Supergirl insisted that Maggie be the one to handle security. In fact, the Caterers were the only ones who weren’t giving her a headache because she’d been sure to do a sample tasting of all the dishes by Wednesday to make sure none of the recipes needed adjustment. That had gone surprisingly well, though by the time it was over she’d been incredibly homesick.

Having four DEO agents in the building had been a huge help though. Padme Panjabi was the head of the team Kara had recruited to handle Supergirl’s media presence, and so far, she couldn’t be happier with the decision. Panjabi had taken over the setup process for the forty-second floor without a moment’s hesitation. She hadn’t even flinched when she’d been introduced to Winn. Laura Nguyen, Wilma Manygoats, and Marcus Brown filled out the team, and between the four of them, they’d not only gotten the forty-second floor up and running, but they’d all dug in and been helping with various last-minute arrangements that had allowed Kara to take enough of a breath to slip out and Supergirl for long enough to catch a car that had been about to go over the side of Otto Bender Bridge, clean up a pile-up on the Interstate, rescue a small craft that was taking on water about fifty miles off the coast, and catch a bear that had gotten out of its enclosure at the National City Zoo.

Which really left only one task.

Kara led Kaldur’ahm across the bullpen, and felt every eye in the room on them as she did. Part of it was curiosity and part of it was just Kaldur’ahm himself. He was magnetic. Tall, lean, handsome in a way that put James Olsen to shame. Part of that was the way he carried himself. He was calm and quiet, but you could see that he was attentive and aware. He carried himself like the royalty he was and even Kara knew there was a time she’d have been swooning. Now, though, she was older, more aware of herself, and while she found his presence reassuring, it didn’t make her weak in the knees.

He was dressed in a suit that could have come straight from the latest Georgio Armani collection. Charcoal gray virgin wool over a red cotton shirt with a red and gray silk tie. The suit was cut loosely enough that he was able to wear his water bearers in a carefully modified shoulder hostler set up. It was enough to make Kara feel more than a little inadequate in her white oxford, salmon pencil shirt, and gray sweater. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to go change into something more impressive herself. Cat wanted her new assistant by the end of the day, so that Kara would be free to start as the head of the Supergirl Social Media Group, or S2MG as Cat had dubbed it.

She led Kaldur’ahm into Cat’s office, only to find Cat sitting on one of the couches, smiling as she read through the finished issue.

“Ms. Grant?” she said.

“Yes, Kiera?” Cat replied.

“I wanted to introduce you to your new assistant,” Kara said.

“Oh?” Cat said, as she looked up from the magazine. She gave Kaldur’ahm a quick inspection. “Another Millennial,” she said, with a heavy note of disappointment. “Well, at least he knows how to dress like an adult,” she said. “But I certainly hope he’d not expecting to earn enough to afford Armani.”

Kara smiled. “I’ve explained the salary, Ms. Grant.”

“Well, then, maybe you should get to the actual introductions,” Cat said.

Kara nodded. “Ms. Grant, this is Jackson Hyde. Jackson, this is Cat Grant.”

Kaldur’ahm stepped forward and held out his hand. “A pleasure, Ms. Grant. Kara speaks very highly of you,” he said.

“Of course she does. I’m amazing,” Cat replied as she reached out and shook his hand.

Kara noticed the slight uptick at the corners of Kaldur’ahm’s mouth and felt a small bit of relief.

“Now, I assume Kiera’s already verified your qualifications, but I do have a few questions.”

“Of course,” he said.

“I’m not sure if Kiera here has explained how I feel about Millennials and she’s no doubt coached you on the answers she gave to get her through the interview, but I don’t coddle my employees, and especially in this position, I expect absolute devotion to the job.”

“Ms. Grant, I assure you, I have no desire to be coddled. Kara explained quite clearly the work load associated with the job. She told me that you were demanding, driven, and had no tolerance for anyone who gave less than their absolute best. She also said you were every bit as demanding of yourself as your employees. That you were harsh, but fair, and that while your accomplishments spoke for themselves, she felt the need to point out that you were worth every bit of the respect you demanded from those around you. I assure you, Ms. Grant, hard work does not frighten me. I simply want a place where I can serve someone I respect and where I can make a difference. Kara has assured me that the desk in front of your office is that place, so here I am.”

Cat looked him over again, much more slowly this time, taking in every detail about him, before she turned to Kara.

“Relative, Kiera?”

Kara shook her head. “No,” she said, having a pretty good idea what Cat was really asking. “When you told me to find you a new assistant, I placed a couple of calls and five different people all recommended Jack, so I got in touch with him and here he is.”

“I see,” Cat said. “Well, I just hope Jacob here is as good about keeping my Latte hot as you are.”

Kara had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as Cat continued.

“And since you’re skipping out on the gala tonight to do whatever it is you Millennials do on a Friday night, I expect him to be in attendance and fully up to speed.”

“Of course, Ms. Grant. I never expected anything less.”

“Oh, and Kiera,” Cat said.

“Yes?”

“I’ll expect a tour of your new space on the forty-second floor first thing Monday morning.”

“Of course, Ms. Grant.”

<hr>

Alex stood inside the small meeting room that connected to the side of the main ballroom where the gala was going to be held, taking in the preparations. A dozen DEO agents, along with four Secret Service agents were going over every detail of the room, checking every nook and cranny, because in the event of an emergency, the President would be evacuated through this room, into the service tunnel that connected to the far wall, and down a carefully marked path to the private garage where the Presidential Limo would be waiting. It was a good plan. Well thought-out. The DEO was just adding some mission-specific hardware.

“What are those?” someone asked, making Alex jump slightly. She turned around, only to feel her mouth go dry as she found Maggie standing right there.

“Um…” She turned, following Maggie’s gaze over to one of the heavy-duty Kryptonite radiation lamps. The fact that the topic was related to her job put Alex a bit more at ease. “Those are Kryptonite Radiation Emitters,” she said. “They put out a wavelength of light that’s largely safe for humans, but is harmful to Kryptonians.”

“They’ll hurt Supergirl and Superman?” Maggie asked. Alex didn’t miss the edge in her voice and it made her smile. She didn’t know a lot about Maggie, not yet, but one thing she had picked up on was that Maggie was protective of Kara.

“No,” Alex said. “We wouldn’t have installed them if they would. Supergirl and Superman both have shields that protect them from the radiation. The other Kryptonians, the ones from Fort Rozz, don’t. Kara was the one who actually suggested these.” She glanced over, and saw Maggie nod.

“That girl’s a little scary sometimes,” Maggie said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was a soldier.”

“I know what you mean,” Alex said. “I keep thinking of her as my awkward little sister and then she starts laying out things like this.” She gestured to the Kryptonite emitters.

“I think anyone who’d been through the things she has would be bit weird. I’m just amazed that she’s such a good person, all things considered.”

“Me, too,” Alex said.

“I’m not sure why you’re surprised. The way she tells it, you’re the reason she’s not a complete basket case.”

Alex felt herself blushing a little. “She’s exaggerating,” she said. “Kara’s always been amazing. I just helped her along a little.”

“Modest, too,” Maggie said, a cute little smirk on her face. “Anyway, I just came in to let you know that we’re all set for the Motorcade. Your teams will be directly in front and behind the limo, then the Secret Service. We’re closing down the 112 and NCH in about an hour.”

Alex nodded. “Thanks. We should be done here in about thirty minutes.”

“Good,” Maggie said.

“Can I ask you something?” Alex said.

“Sure,” Maggie replied

“How’d you meet Kara? I’ve heard her version of it, but…”

“But sometimes Kara’s perspective on things is a little weird,” Maggie finished for her. “I was dating a girl, and we’d been on and off for a while. I had it really bad, but she was sleeping around. I would break it off, she’d call, and I’d run right back to her, because I was lonely and miserable. I walked into a bar where some colossal idiot had stood Kara up, and just happened to sit down next to her and you know Kara.”

“Never met a stranger,” Alex said.

“Yeah. So, she starts talking to me, and at first, I’m annoyed, but she’s just got that smile that you can’t resist, and next thing I know I’m spilling my guts. She volunteered to keep me company any time I start missing my ex. She’s kind of been my Ex-girlfriend’s Anonymous sponsor. Any time Darla calls me, I tell her I’m busy, then call Kara. Any time I’m tempted to call Darla, I call Kara instead. After a while though, I realized I had a lot more fun with Kara than I ever did with Darla.”

“If you’re about to say something that would make me obligated as Kara’s older sister to shoot you, please don’t,” Alex said.

“No,” Maggie replied. “God no. Kara made it perfectly clear right up front she wasn’t interested. She said she really wasn’t over Sara. She was only trying to date to shut up her foster mom and big sister and she didn’t really want to be anyone’s rebound relationship. Honestly, it would be a bit like dating someone’s kid sister.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “Mine.”

Maggie chuckled. “She’s a good friend. Bit of a meddler though.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “I know.”

“I should get back to it,” Maggie said.

“So should I,” Alex said.

Maggie turned, and started to walk away, but on impulse, Alex called after her. “Hey, Sawyer.”

“Yeah?” Maggie said, turning around.

“We should grab a beer sometime. I wouldn’t be a good older sister if I didn’t tell you at least some of the embarrassing stories I have about Kara.”

Maggie smiled. “Okay.”

Alex turned back to the work at hand, wondering if she’d done the right thing. Kara said they worked well together and J’onn thought it would be a good idea to foster the relationship early. Hopefully, getting to know a bit about Maggie would make things run a bit smoother.

<hr>

Cat sat in front of the mirror at her vanity. Her makeup was already in place. All she had left to do was step into the dress she’d picked out, put on her shoes and be on her way. Except she was having a hard time moving and it was all Kara’s fault.

She didn’t understand what was going on. She didn’t understand why Kara was doing half of what she was doing. Oh, she got the big picture. The girl had been clear enough in the interview. She wanted to make a place for aliens on Earth. To get them established as refugees. What the girl said made a lot of sense, and Cat had found it moving enough to thaw even her frozen, bitter little heart. The heart which normally only showed any signs of defrosting when Carter was around.

Kara had been an exception to that rule almost from the beginning. This wasn’t new ground. What confused her though, was how far out of the way Kara was going for her. She had no idea who ‘Jackson Hyde’ was, but she had no doubt that he was an alien, or at the very least, a metahuman. Either way, Kara had, upon being told to find her own replacement, gone out and found her *another* super-powered assistant. It didn’t make any sense at all.

She could understand if Kara was using her and through her, CatCo to further Kara’s objectives. That made sense. She might even accept Kara’s statement that she enjoyed working at CatCo at face value, though God only knew why, given that Cat herself was a terrible person to work for. What she didn’t understand was why the girl was so focused on her. Most people, given the assignment to find their own replacement before starting their new position would have had HR pull some resumes, found the least terrible option, and thrown them at Cat as they fled to greener pastures. Not Kara. Of course the girl would do this the same way she did everything else. She’d go above and beyond the call of duty, find exactly what she thought Cat needed and make sure everything was just so before she moved on. She’s also pick someone who she was sure would know to come to her if there was any issue.

It was almost as if the girl cared for her, which, if it had been anyone other than Kara would have been a stupid thought. But this was Kara and Kara had never quite made sense to her. Oh, she’d seen potential, but Kara had never seemed to quell under Cat’s threats. She’d seemed to enjoy them. It had driven Cat mad at first, because the more dire the threat, the broader the smile on the girl’s face. The first time she’d fired the girl and the girl had just responded with ‘of course Ms. Grant,’ then cheerfully ignored that she’d been fired and kept right on working, it had honestly left Cat flabbergasted. It had almost come to the point where firing Kara was a little like some weird kind of flirting.

She looked herself in the eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Kara Danvers was attractive. She knew that. She was nursing a little bit of a crush. She’d known that for months, because everyone who met the girl seemed to fall hopelessly in love with her. She didn’t pretend she was immune. The fact that Kara Danvers could take anything Cat could throw at her, and let it roll off like water off a duck’s back, just made her that much more intriguing. That fact that the few times Cat had crossed that invisible line that Kara seemed to consider too far, she hadn’t hesitated to put her foot down and let Cat know it was time to back off made Cat squirm with her own arousal.

She needed to get this out of her system. Maybe find some young blonde company some night when Carter was at his father’s. Play the fantasy out and be done with it. Because she needed to be able to think clearly. Kara and Supergirl. Both were important, for different reasons, and she would not get in the way of that. She would not be some cliché, chasing a young woman around the office and destroying the girl’s career to satisfy an itch. Because that’s all it could ever be. An itch. An impulse.

Kara had too much potential. She was too important. And Cat would keep her hands to her God-damned self.

#supergirl #supercat #supercanary #sanvers #fanfiction #the shape of things to come #kara danvers #alex danvers #cat grant #maggie sawyer #sara lance #j'onn j'onzz #susan vasquez #lois lane #clark kent #james olsen #winn schott jr.#future shock

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secretradiobrooklyn · 3 years

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Two Lions In Love Edition | 6.19 & 6.26.21

Secret Radio | 6.19 & 6.26.21 | Hear it here.

6/19: Juneteenth “Two Lions in Love Edition”

“Tropical use only” — drug salesperson

1. Daddy Don’t - “Bottom Side of Texas”

One of our favorite spots to play in the whole country is the Pilot Light in Knoxville — it’s not just the club, but the neighborhood and really the whole drive into town, digging into the Tennessee mountains. There’s a little St. Louis in its bricks and pathways too. One evening brought us a night with Daddy Don’t, which was a gal on guitar singing songs about the gal on drums, plus a guy onstage strictly to blow bubbles. They seemed so shy and so completely cool. Their set was hilarious and touching and maybe a little stumbly and thoroughly charismatic. I felt an overlap with Birdcloud and Schwervon and ‘90s Olympia but also definitely their own thing. I hope they’re doing cool stuff these days too.

2. Ennio Morricone - “Guerra e Pace Pollo e Brace” - “Grazie Zie” soundtrack

The great music find from the wedding of Josh and Ashleigh. We spent some time recently remembering what a fantastic time that was…

3. Panjabi MC - “Mundian to Bach Ke”

…because we all met up in Chicago this month to celebrate the marriage of Ren and Kiera! It was in the Morton Arboretum, bringing together both American and Indian families in one grand event. The music throughout the evening was lovely, from the ceremony (Josh on solo guitar) through the early events and the meal. Once the dance floor was opened, however, a whole new flavor dropped: the DJ rocked between Nelly and Indian dancefloor music, then over to Michael Jackson, then into Panjabi MC and on and on. We danced our faces off!

- “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” karaoke version with special guest star!

4. Sparks - “The Number One Song in Heaven”

“Gabriel plays it and God how he plays it!” I know everybody’s gonna be talking about Sparks soon because of the doc that just dropped, and it’ll be both from people who know everything about Sparks and from people who are brand-new zealots. Bring it on — I’m so looking forward to learning more about these guys… especially because, in just over a month, on August 6, there’s going to be a whole other film dropping that we’ve been looking forward to for years. It’s called “Annette,” and it’s directed by Carax, who did “Holy Motors” and “Lovers on the Bridge” — it’s his first movie in English and his first musical. But check this: Sparks wrote all the music! The cast includes Adam Driver, Marion Cotillard, Angèle AND Russell Mael … I mean, we couldn’t be any more excited for this film. It’s entirely possible that it won’t work at all, but it’s also entirely possible that it turns out to be the combined efforts of some of the most interesting artists working today.

5. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou - “Noude Ma Gnin Tche De Me”

We met up with Theo Welling recently just off Atlantic Avenue at a place with a questionable name and a brothel theme but a pretty epic back patio. Not only were there chandeliers and a disco ball hanging from the broad branches of the tree overhead, but the music was DEAD ON our tastes. When this song came on, it was like: they got us. There was some Francis Bebey a little later on, I mean it was the very stuff. And the thing is, this song totally rocked that patio. Because T.P. rules.

This is from Analog Africa’s crucial T.P. collection, “Echos Hypnotiques.”

6. Elsa - “Ecoutez”

The energy in French records from the ‘60s is crackling hard — this one

We picked up this record at Dave’s Records when we were in town for Ren and Keira’s wedding. It happened to be Record Store Day as well, so we went to Dave’s Records, an old favorite with a “CDs — Never Had Em, Never Will” sign in the window. “They powered through CDs,” says Paige. That sign is this relic of them living through the ‘90s and ‘00s, really.”

7. Velvet Underground - “White Light/White Heat”

Theo was wearing a Lou Reed Transformer shirt that night and we spent some time talking about this crazy band. I feel like this track is the ultimate experience of VU where they find the most ragged frayed edge of pop music to ride and they spend the whole song there, until the end when they jump on the song like leopards on an antelope and start attacking it. But the song resists, takes off running, and actually gets quite a long ways before it is finally taken down. The ending sounds like a brutal act of nature.

8. Sroeng Sari - “Kuen Kuen Lueng Lueng”

It took me a while to stop and actually listen to this song — the opening riff is kind of blinding. You stare into that riff and think that you’re gonna have to deal with a whole version of “Iron Man,” but on the other side of the riff lies a fascinating new riff and completely independent verse shape. (I have no idea if the lyrics relate to the concept of “Iron Man.”) In fact, it turns out the riff is practically only used like a sample within the structure of the song, and it’s mainly not Iron Man at all.

9. [REDACTED] Keep an eye out for the Extended Drunk Scarface Cut Edition.

[9. Paige Brubeck as Scarface & Tony S. in - “Favorite Gangster Friend” feat. Chumbawumba]

10. Midnight Oil - “The Power and the Passion”

Paige was a little too late for Midnight Oil, but she’s extremely receptive to an ideologically, ecologically driven band. “If I had heard that band when I was listening to ska music, I would have fuggin loved this band. I think I would have listened to this band a lot. The part of me that likes Reel Big Fish and the Pietasters… it’s very punk and then when the horns come in it’s like, Oh yeah I love this stuff.”

For me: I love the drum solo. It’s such an interesting full-length exploration of a few different ideas, and it helps point out the ways that the percussion operates in Midnight Oil songs. The overdubbed variations on the singer’s voice reminds me of techniques we used in Bound Stems. I really like that way of recording multiple emotions within a single line and just kind of smashing them together for a multi-faceted take on the lyric. I feel like “Jane Says” was the first recording where I noticed that approach. I also love the crescendo structure to the whole song. But to me, this feels like a song that was built to be played live but someone thought should be represented on the album. I think the transitions between the A, B and C parts are weird and unfinished, even though each of the parts is really good.

11. Phuong Dung - “Do Ai”

What a truly incredible voice… and the guitar accompaniment only slowly reveals its depth and litheness through the course of the song.

12. Group Inerane - “Ikabkaban”

This was a lucky discovery. It’s as much a state of mind as a recording of a song. The sound is very live and not ideal, which I do think ultimately makes it more interesting. There’s something about live recordings that can be embarrassing and compromised… or it can feel like lightning in a bottle. I think this one feels special. This sounds to me like desert blues. These are some of the notes on the track itself: “This album by the rebellious Tuareg musicians from Niger is certainly more hypnotic and less ecstatic than the first (which was recorded at a wedding celebration). It should be said that the guitarist Adi Mohamed, who played on the first album, was shot dead in a skirmish between the nomads and junta forces.”

Yow.

13. The Lemon Twigs - “As Long As We’re Together” (video version)

Now I should just say A) this is the video version of the song, and B) that’s the real version of the song as far as I’m concerned. This video is a perfect thing, at least to me. It was directed by Autumn de Wilde, who went on to direct the film “Emma,” which was one of the most enjoyable pieces of art we saw during the pandemic. (She initially got notice as a photographer before going into music videos.) The recording is masterful, with an intentionally pushed back main vocal and all kinds of panned effects both minimal and baroque. These guys were all teens when they wrote and recorded this song with Foxygen’s Jonathan Rado, which only makes it more (annoyingly?) brilliant. Also: this is our candidate for the song likeliest to get stuck in your head.

That video (I love the ending):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQ4nqnVOfMo

- Nisar Bazmi - “Aesi Chal Main”

Pakistani music from a collection labeled “Folk and Pop Instrumentals 1966-1976.” It’s easy to imagine this as a folk song, but the instrumentation is so radically electric that it feels like new information being learned on the spot.

14. Katty Lane - “Ne Fais Pas La Tête”

Another live recording. Actually, that’s probably not true: it’s a recording from a TV of a TV appearance that Katty made, almost certainly lip-synching the vocals. But it sounds better than the album version to us. Katty Lane is going for a cross between Nancy Sinatra and Brigitte Bardot, and it’s really interesting how close she gets but how far away she remains.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-T4gWLi5RUw

15. Ezra Furman - “I Lost My Innocence”

Man, the rhythmic arrangement of the opening verse knocks me out. The production on this whole album really, but the minimalist rhythmic clarity that comes from splitting the beat among a variety of instruments is so amazing. As a drummer I just find the pattern-building in this song enviable.

We got to know these songs well during a tour we did with Ezra Furman. The whole band is full of heavy hitters, including Tim Sandusky, the guy who recorded the album and plays a variety of instruments there and live. He’s one of my favorite musical brains, period, and “Transangelic Exodus,” the album this comes from, is one of my favorite pieces of album production, period.

16. Voilaaa - “Pas bon”

These are apparently contemporary people! This album is from 2015. I think Josh pointed us to this one.

17. Francois and the Atlas Mountains - “La Verité”

This a band Paige came across a couple of years ago, at 2222 Jefferson I believe. This chorus is a true tonguetwister and thus irresistable to try to sing along with. The melody is really strong, and check out how the guitar enters the solo!

18. Ata Kak - “Daa Nyinaa”

We had an amazing night in the back patio zone we share with our building. Dexter had a few friends over including a dude named KG who turned out to be super interesting on a variety of subjects. As we were talking about music he brought up Ata Kak, whose “Obaa Sima” we’ve played on here and who we absolutely love. Paige disappeared inside and came back with our tape of this whole album. He fell out, like what are we doing with this thing? I started telling the whole back story of how the album was discovered in a street tent in Ghana by the guy from Awesome Tapes From Africa, and eventually after many adventures actually tracked down Ata Kak, who was surprised to be found and even more surprised to find that the tape Awesome Tapes had found was distorted and ran way faster than originally intended. But then KG started playing that original tempo track, which does indeed sound comPLETely different. I still haven’t been able to find a way to get ahold of that original track. “Daa Nyinaa” is another banger off the same tape. The man just has a really great sense of what makes a hook.

19. Sakuran Zensen - “Taxi Man” 錯乱前戦　タクシーマンのMVです

This was a video that flickered through my feed a couple of years ago, I think thanks to Steve Scariano (not Steve Pick as I claim aloud). I don’t think a single recommendation of Steve Scariano has ever been the wrong answer — the man has impeccable taste. This song has all of the rock and all of the roll PLUS a ladder. It’s a strong song and an even stronger video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNmubstNGFs

20. New York Dolls - “Looking for a Kiss”

As soon as we were in the nasty distortion of Sakuran Zensen it was probably inevitable that we would go looking for the New York Dolls. The live performance of this song is worth the price of admission… and the drummer looks like one of the brothers from The Lemon Twigs!

21. Mina - “La verità”

Sometimes Italian is the only language that will do. It does tend to have its own melodic shapes separate from French. I adore the way she goes for the high notes in the chorus only to get to the climax, which is her dropping down into her lowest register to bitterly and sarcastically deliver the title phrase: “La verità:” “the truth.” I know just enough Italian to catch that her final declaration is “Sono stato io,” or: “It was me.”

22. Pylon - “Cool”

Pylon has been back in the news recently thanks to a big ol’ rerelease at the 40 year mark, and it’s a great way to get more in touch with a band that lies at the source of so much music we love. They are every bit as cool as the song.

23. Dalida - “Aghani Aghani”

Dalida is Egyptian born, in an Italian household, who first gained fame singing in French — or in Italian to French audiences. She ended up singing in 10 languages in all. She is a blockbuster French star with no parallel, though she died young by her own hand. “Aghani Aghani” is an Arabic medley that became a gigantic hit all across the Arab world and has since entered the fabric of the language and culture.

24. Betti-Betti & T.P. Orchestre Poly Rythmo de Cotonou - “Mbala”

We have been falling deeper and deeper for Betti-Betti’s songs. This one has so many of my favorite things that she does — the fantastic melodies that cycle past each other, the expressive horn lines, and the mouth percussion that totally transforms the song for me. We just recently got a different album of hers that we’re also really excited about; that one features an entirely different band in a different style. This one is T.P. though, those consummate collaborators, and this song is an epic joining of forces.

- Mulatu Astatke + Black Jesus Experience - “Mulatu”

25. Nick Drake - “Pink Moon”

Oh that strawberry moon with its red halo.

0 notes

matts4-blog1 · 6 years

Text

track # 2 : umo

vimeo

Aim

originally umo was conceptualized around the little guitar riff i created at the start, and after reflecting on what that riff could potentially do in terms of expressing me personally and pretty much based the rest of the tracks themes and ideas around that original sample.

my emotions around the guitar sample was that i felt it was quite an introspective look into alot of different feelings I was having during the time of creation, a complete mixing pot essentially all mixed in with this taste of nihilistic bliss. I was lost in my own thoughts and the world around me but I wanted to embrace that feeling and explore what was going on in different corners of my shit, I was down about shit not going my way but I didn’t really care because in the end nothing really matters. those where the main feelings i tried to capture in the first part of the piece.

the middle piece’s aim was to act the sort of representation of mellowing out after one of those emotional sort of semi existential crisis’s and artificially try to tell myself that because the nature of everything being nothing, why not kinda just say ah fuck it and enjoy it for what it is. this is where there is a sort of dialogue between me and the track which I thought was quite personally representative for how much music is becoming such a large part of my life that it can talk to me about some of my deepest emotions and thoughts better than any physical other human I've ever met, well except for maybe one but that’s for a later song.

this is where the third part comes in and is there to represent the final part of this emotional cycle which is when I try to enjoy what life has to offer in a sense. the upbeat dance vibe I thought represented going out and going to clubs and having a good night where things just flowed and was a general good time.

Elements

throughout the song there is various differing elements that are used due to the three different parts of the track. in the first part i feel like the focal point is the hard bass line that comes in halfway through. I decided to make this the focal point of the first part because of how I think bass personally effects me and that i love to feel a strong hit of bass as well as hearing it. it honestly has a pretty powerful effect on me and creates this sort of momentary bliss, which I thought would accompany the idea of nihilistic bliss well. it’s also coupled with the reverb heavy drums which really make it feel like im lost in my own mind but then the bass line comes in to sort of show me a sense of direction almost.

the middle part only has one element which i think is quite effective being solitary. the gradual rising of the intensity really helps bring home that message of it being me talking to myself saying that everything is nothing and that you should go ahead and try to enjoy it at least a little bit. the nature of the instrument itself building up in sonic presence then kinda coming down again is I guess also reflective of the amount of convincing it would take me to try and come to the conclusion of changing my mindset. but that’s retrospective criticality so it wasn’t directly intended in the creation.

the third part of the track is supposed to be much less meaningful and personal as it is just supposed to be reflecting that artificially created emotion of “I should enjoy this because what else is there to do”, which I think I managed to convey that shallow-ish sense of emotion to varying success. understanding its meaning to me would shed light upon how vaguely empty that part of the track feels, but it could be all just be a retrospective opinion that was drawn upon the music by me after creating it and not really having that same sort of emotion connected to the actual creation of the piece.

Influences

so the obvious influence i probably have to mention is the one that the track is named after which is Unknown Mortal Orchestra because of how similar the actual playing of the guitar is in the sample I created.

1. Chronos Feasts on His Children - Unknown Mortal Orchestra

youtube

this is just essentially the same sort of sound that the guitar follows, nothing really to connect the themes presented in either songs or anything like that. but I would recommend listening to the sex & food album as UMO has a pretty cool sound he’s found.

2. Makkan - Fat Freddie's Drop

youtube

I would personally say that this track (and album) was the biggest influence on my track as I used multiple elements that were really idolized and made apparent in this track. I think the biggest theme I took from it was the hard hitting bass line and how much of a real impact that had on me personally. also the drum line was semi inspired by this tribal sounding drum line which really inspired me to create a different sounding drum line than just a simple crash loop. I would most definitely recommend listing to this album as it is probably the greatest piece of art to ever come out of NZ in my opinion.

3. Garden Shed - Tyler, the Creator

youtube

again another track influenced by flower boy. this here is my favorite song of all time just because of how powerful every single one of the elements are in the song itself, but to me personally I think that the power of the bass really spoke wonders to me which means that with this paired with Makkan, I really thought that to make a track anywhere near personal I would have to try and integrate this type of sonic presence somehow.

4. TRACK UNO - KAYTRANDA

youtube

KAYTRANDA will be the greatest of our time for dance music production for me personally and I think I really drew inspiration out of this track for the third part of the song. specifically i think that the drum line and the beat itself is matched quite closely with this song and the bass line I definitely drew a ton of inspiration from for the third part.

Conclusions about the track

all in all retrospectively, I feel like this track was one of the most personal tracks within the EP as it did require alot of deep thinking in order to try and conceptualize and properly bring my idea to life. as was brought to attention in the previous blog post though I feel like the conceptual feelings and ideas I have behind my tracks are solid and I have tried to display those themes as well as I could, but the main blocking force is my knowledge behind musical theory and learning my way around the DAW. with this song specifically I feel as if my musical theory knowledge has impacted the development of this track alot more than it has with the other ones, as if we are to compare it to some of the tracks it was inspired by such as garden shed, due to its more sophisticated musical structure and interesting sonic presence it is a much more thought provoking and impactful piece. that doesn’t mean to say that my conceptual feelings around the track are completely invalid however it just means that I have to focus on the deliberation and ways I get across those ideas in a more artistic, aesthetic and interesting way.

Future iterations & directions

this track manages to showcase its themes somewhat well and for that i feel like the only part in which i would specifically want to change and revisit is the aesthetics surrounding the track, essentially the way in which the track musically feels and is presented would need to be revisited and changed in order for the track to have its fully intended effect. specifically I feel as if there needs to be a little bit more variation in the beat in the first part, maybe some different chords to be played by the guitar so essentially much like gan in that I think I just have to be more creative and exploitative with the ways in which I use the instruments I have.

#creativeaudio

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lambpain82-blog · 5 years

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Lamb Meatballs with Pomegranate Glaze

Thu Aug 23, 2018

It's becoming harder and harder for me to restrain my ambitions at my Meatwaves. When I look back to my earlier days, I would pick three, maybe four, recipes to try out, resulting in manageable menus. I think it was when I decided to scale back my barbecues from every other week to once a month, that I changed and felt the need to cook all my ideas all the time, which has translated to me developing six to eight recipes each time, requiring a lot more work in both prep and cooking. I often feel rushed and totally consumed with grilling on Meatwave days, leaving less time for hanging out with my friends—a critical part of why I throw these cookouts in the first place. So when creating a menu for a meatball themed Meatwave last year, I actually came up with a ton of recipe ideas, and it took a lot of discipline to only choose four and stick to them so I could have a good balance in my day. That left me with a number of additional recipe ideas for me to fit into future menus, and I finally got to one of those recently...these lamb meatballs with a pomegranate glaze.

It was a Middle Eastern-themed menu that ended up bringing these meatballs to life. That's because the seasoning I was envisioning was comprised of mostly ingredients being used in other recipes in the line-up for the day. I wouldn't say the seasoning mixture was wholly Middle Eastern influenced though. It was actually what I thought would pair best with the very flavorful lamb and compliment the sweet pomegranate finishing glaze—it ended up being a combination of parsley, garlic, mint, cumin, orange zest, black pepper, red pepper, and salt plus breadcrumbs for a lighter texture and better bonding.

Before committing to rolling out all of the meat into balls, I test cooked a little patty to ensure the seasoning was good. I always recommend this step for any sausage or formed meat mixture because it's the best way to be certain what you'll be serving your guests tastes as good as possible. I'd like to think you can make my recipes without taste testing and they'll turn out great, but taste is subjective, so my idea of what is the right amount of salt, pepper, herbs, etc. may not fit yours and this step gives you more control to really make the recipe the best it can be for you.

Once I confirmed the lamb mixture was seasoned to my liking, I rolled out the meat into balls approximately one and half inches in diameter. I did this the day before serving to help me be a little less stressed at the actual Meatwave, where, at this particular event, I didn't restrain myself and made seven new recipes.

The pomegranate glaze presented a bit of a quandary for me. I knew I wanted to use a sweet and thick pomegranate sauce, and that is actually pretty easy to procure at a reasonable price at my local Middle Eastern market in the form of pomegranate molasses. On the other hand, I could opt to make my own glaze, which would require more time and investment by starting pomegranate juice that would need to reduced. At the end of the day, my DIY spirit won out and I made my own glaze, but I honestly think you'll be just as well served with pomegranate molasses if you prefer to lessen the load of this recipe.

Even though I decided to make my own glaze, I kept the ingredient list minimal. To the pomegranate juice, I only added light brown sugar, some fresh orange juice, and a little balsamic vinegar, which I let all simmer down together until it was thick and syrupy. Once done, the two cups of pomegranate juice I started with was reduced to about 3/4 cup of glaze.

The next step was grilling, which I did over a two-zone fire where I had situated the coals all on one side of the charcoal grate. This let me quickly get some good browning on the meatballs all over first by placing them directly over the hot fire and turning them regularly.

I was then able to move the meatballs to the cool side of the grill, brush with the glaze, and let them continue to cook more gently until the glaze had baked down and the center of the meat registered around 155°F—a temperature at which there was very little pinkness left, but the meat was still very juicy.

I served this in an appetizer manner, placing toothpicks in each individual meatball so my guests could easily grab and eat. I'm always a bit nervous when choosing to do a lamb dish because its slightly gamey flavor can be polarizing. Luckily on this day, I had some true lamb lovers that dug right in, and almost all the rest of my guests followed suit. Even those not totally sold on lamb were able to appreciate these meatballs which had a fresh and earthy seasoning that complimented the strong flavor of the meat along with the crowd-pleasing sweet and fruity glaze. I think that sweetness, in conjunction with the small sampling portion, is what really made these even more palatable to those folks who were a little timid when they heard that the meatballs were lamb, definitely helping the entire dish disappear in no time. These represented another success in a long line-up of meatball recipe ideas I'll likely be working my way through for years to come.

Lamb Meatballs with Pomegranate Glaze

A fresh and earthy seasoning along with a sweet pomegranate glaze pair great with the flavorful lamb to make one tasty meatball appetizer.

Prep Time:

30 Minutes

Cook Time:

10 Minutes

Total Time:

40 Minutes

Yield:

6-8 Servings

Ingredients

For the Glaze

2 cups pure pomegranate juice

1/4 cup light brown sugar

2 tablespoons freshly squeezed orange juice

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

For the Meatballs

2 pounds ground lamb

3/4 cup fresh breadcrumbs

2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh parsley

1 tablespoon finely minced fresh garlic (about 3 medium cloves)

1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh mint

2 teaspoons kosher salt

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon orange zest

1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

3/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

Procedure

To make the glaze: Whisk together pomegranate juice, brown sugar, orange juice, and vinegar in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, reduce to a simmer, and cook, stirring occasionally, until thickened to a syrupy consistency, about 20 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.

To make the meatballs: Place ground lamb, bread crumbs, parsley, garlic, mint, salt, cumin, orange zest, black pepper, and red pepper flakes in a large bowl. Using your hands, mix together until thoroughly combined. Roll out meat mixture into balls 1 1/2 inches in diameter.

Light one chimney full of charcoal. When all the charcoal is lit and covered with gray ash, pour out and arrange the coals on one side of the charcoal grate. Set cooking grate in place, cover grill and allow to preheat for 5 minutes. Clean and oil the grilling grate. Place meatballs on hot side of grill and cook, turning occasionally, until well browned all over. Move meatballs to cool side of grill, brush all over with glaze, cover, and continue to cook until center of meatballs register 155°F on an instant read thermometer. Transfer meatballs to a serving platter and let rest for up to 5 minutes. Serve immediately.

Source: http://www.meatwave.com/blog/grilled-spiced-lamb-meatballs-with-pomegranate-glaze-recipe

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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airadam · 4 years

Text

Episode 131 : Strange Times

"History repeats what you refuse to learn about."

- Planet Asia

Another month inside, which I'm sure is a test of patience for many. It's been an odd one, which feels like it hasn't been any less busy than normal, and so the rhythm of podcast production has pretty much been as usual. The selection ranges from some of my earliest, brokest vinyl purchases to the latest releases of the digital age - hope you all find something in there that makes you rewind (and then buy an album)!

Rest In Power to Arch Stanton of Mothership Connection, Bill Withers, Ebow of Foreign Beggars, Fred the Godson, and Stezo...

As mentioned in the show, I'm now on Twitch : twitch.tv/airadam13

Twitter : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Kam ft. Xzibit and Maskerade : Nowhere

I was looking for Kam's debut album "Neva Again" on Spotify and had no joy, but this turned up and has been getting a lot of play since then! 2016s "Mutual Respect" clearly needs an end-to-end listen if this is the standard - a quality song, dark and brooding, castigating the fairweather friends who gas young men up into committing all kinds of crimes but then abandon them to a life in the system. The production from Jmyth and Tariqbeats - who as far as I know, have no credits anywhere else at all - is perfect for the theme.

Jake One : Dawkinss

It's hard to find good instrumentals in this speed range that aren't heavy synth/trap-based (which is sometimes what you want, but not in this spot), but Jake One's free "#prayerhandsemoji" has come through a few times on that score!

UGK : Use Me Up

The first of the month's Bill Withers inclusions, Pimp C shows that he knows not to mess with a good thing as he lifts the groove of the 1972 hit single "Use Me" from the "Still Bill" LP, as well as the theme! C was always a producer with a deep love and appreciation for soul and funk, who wasn't afraid to bring in live instruments when he needed to, and he adds a little guitar and organ flavour to this tune from their 1992 debut "Too Hard To Swallow".

GQ : Rated Oakland

Low and slow (J.U.S.T.I.C.E League and 8 Bars on the beat), no hook, no wasted time. No-gimmick emceeing from a no-nonsense city, as GQ says what he has to say in barely two minutes on the title track from his debut album. The title track is often the big centrepiece, so it shows a lot of confidence to keep it so brief and concentrated.

Kid Frost : No Sunshine

This is a track from my early vinyl buying days, when I was pretty broke and if I saw something in the bargain bins from someone that had been mentioned in Hip-Hop Connection, I picked it up! Kid Frost (now Frost) was already ten years deep into his career at the time 1992s "East Side Story", from which this is drawn, was released, and he represented hard for his Mexican heritage at a time when Latino rappers were rare. This track reflects a side of the gang culture that is such a significant part of LA life for many, participants or otherwise; the other side of an explosion of anger is more often than not a lifetime of regret.

RZA : My Lovin' Is Digi

The Wu's takes on love songs are always a little different! The "RZA as Bobby Digital in Stereo" LP is 22 years old this year, but this is the first time we've gone to it on the podcast; it won't be the last, though. Classic 70s soul sampling on this one, self-produced by RZA as you'd expect.

DJ Quik : Quik's Groove II

Every album, DJ Quik gifts us an instrumental number that shows off his level of musicality - this one was released all the way back in 1992, as part of his second LP "Way 2 Fonky".

Brand New Heavies ft. Gang Starr : It's Gettin' Hectic

We step outside the Gang Starr catalogue for a track that may have passed you by if you didn't happen to be listening deeply in the early 90s. The 1992 "Heavy Rhyme Experience, Vol.1" album saw BNH, the London acid jazz and funk group who were getting big respect after their debut, slightly alter course and collaborate with Hip-Hop crews for their sophomore release. This was a pioneering album, which even preceded Guru's "Jazzmatazz" series. He's the perfect MC for this collaboration, and sounds more than comfortable doing his thing over a live band!

Voodoo Black ft. Leaf Dog : Fall Back

Played them last month, but had to give you one more taste of Voodoo Black in case you hadn't got the "Sitting At The Table" album yet! The mic killers from Manchester bring in Leaf Dog from The Four Owls, who complements them well on some straight Hip-Hop business. I love how DJ Cutterz has the kick drum and bassline working on this track, and the scratch work is polished too. Big ups!

Prince Po : Mecheti Lightspeed

I was pleasantly surprised to find that I'd never included the vocal version of this before! Madlib is on the beat, giving this often-overlooked half of Organized Konfusion some smooth heat. This is from the B-side of the "Holla" 12", but both tracks are also on the 2006 "Prettyblack" album.

Maffew Ragazino, Action Bronson, and Torae : Avatar

Pete Cannon on the beat! Blackpool may not be the first place you'd expect a fierce Hip-Hop producer to emerge from, but he's been doing his thing for years and has worked with some highly respected artists. This 2014 single from "Brownsville's Jesus" is wall-to-wall NYC on the mic - and for my money, Torae was the right choice to bring it home on that third verse.

BoomBaptist : Razzle Dazzle

Agent J of Groovement put me up on this Texas-based producer when he announced his "Boom Shakalaka" LP, all about the beloved video game "NBA Jam" - I certainly remember emptying my shallow pockets into that one as a teen :) BoomBaptist lives up to his name with the vibes, so if you like good beats and/or remember the 90s well, check the album!

Levelz : LVL09

If you're not used to hearing some of the MC styles on this record, prepare to have your face blown back! This Manchester crew is made up of a ton of artists who are stars in their own right, and the combination over the Metrodome-produced beat here is devastating. When the rapid spitting happens, what should strike you is the clarity - you can hear every word, every syllable even. Get this as a "name your price" on Bandcamp, and don't be shy to put a little something in!

Curren$y : Empire Monopoly

Short, but a better track in my opinion than Max B's "We Got Doe", which was the source for the Dame Grease-produced beat. It runs at a perfect pace for Curren$y, who spits a mix of his trademark lifestyle rap, street business, and Boardwalk Empire references on this standout from the "Return To The Winner's Circle" mixtape.

Ty ft. Mpho : Brixton Baby

Get well soon Ty! I thought I'd dip into his most recent album "A Work Of Heart" for this episode, and we have a ode to his place of birth as well as the adopted home of Mpho, the guest vocalist. Ty also built the foundation of the beat, then built on by Drew Horley, Akwasi Mensah and Julien Siegel. The combination of all the artists give the neighbourhood the love it deserves!

Planet Asia & 38 Spesh : God Degree

I can't even remember what lead me to this one via Spotify, but it's always good to hear new Planet Asia. The new "Trust The Chain" album is completely produced by 38 Spesh, and I love his beat here, regal dopeness that gives Asia's conscious rhymes a fitting backdrop.

Leavv : Valley (Original Mix)

Germany's Leavv is no joke when it comes to the "chill-hop" vibes that have become popular on long streaming Youtube mixes over the last few years. His work is crisp, clean, and refreshing as a nice tonic water on this track from the 2018 "Mind Garden" album!

Bill Withers : Grandma's Hands

Some of you will know this song very well, while others will have had a flash of realisation from the very first bar! Yes, this was famously sampled for Blackstreet's "No Diggity", but it's a truly great record in its own right. A single from 1971's "Just As I Am", this is just raw soul, and a record many of us can relate to - if not about grandparents, perhaps other elders who are no longer with us.

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

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44dagainagain · 4 years

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Diablo Beta Quest Text

The Diablo Beta only contains 10 quests:

The Butcher

Butcher Portal (partial)

Poison Water

The Skeleton King

The Maze (not really a quest)

Stones of Blood (partial)

The Magic Rock

The Bone Chamber

Halls of the Blind

Zhar the Mad

But there’s just over 100 lines of quest text in the beta EXE! There were clearly ideas for other quests that are missing in the beta. Either they were in the caves and beyond, or still in development.

Let’s take a look! Most of this is speculation based off previous musings at Diablo Evolution: https://diablo-evolution.net/index.php?pageid=quest

Andariel

Men have been disappearing from the village! I have seen a strange glowing light in the woods right before some of the men vanished. That's all I know!

Human, your life is forfeit and your soul is mine! I shall enjoy ripping you apart for eternity!

I don't know what else to tell you! Maybe you should go and look into the strange lights I've seen out in the woods.

Demons that look like beautiful women! That's horrible! You must stop this madness, or we may all perish!

While neither Andariel nor succubi are explicitly mentioned, “demons that look like beautiful women” makes it pretty clear that this quest evolved into the (unimplemented) Andariel quest.

The second line, based on voice, seems to be something spoken by the boss.

The other lines are likely delivered by the quest-giving NPC. It’s unknown who that NPC is, but it’s assumed to be Gillian. Gillian’s not in the beta though but -- since Bmaid31.wav is in the MPQ -- she was definitely planned. The first line is the initiation of the quest, and the third and fourth look like nags. It’s weird that there are two nags (probably based on whether you’ve found the problem), typically there’s only one. This makes me think that the fourth line is the completion of the quest but it’s not quite worded to make it sound that way.

The Imprisoned Warlock

YOUU...HUMANN! I...WWILLL...REEEWARD...YOUU...VVVERY...WELLLL...IFFF...YOUU...HELLP...MEEE...ESSCAAPE...JUSSST...REEAD...TTHAT...BOOOK...

This quest is also unimplemented in the final release. It is unknown who the enemy is, where the quest takes place, and what the reward is.

Lazarus

I bring word from the Church. Through dark means, the Bishop Lazarus was corrupted. His betrayal has allowed Diablo to gain a foothold in our world, and now he works in futherance of Diablo's schemes. We have divined his current location as being sixteen levels under the church. He must be stopped, and his soul put to rest.

Interloper! You dare to interfere with our destiny! You shall suffer a slow, painful death!

You are too late! Now you will feel the wrath of hell!

Why do you delay?! Lazarus' actions doom us all. Hurry!

It is a weight off of my heart. Rest in peace Bishop Lazarus. I believe you are worthy of one of the Church's holy weapons. The Church appoints you charge of the mace Lightforge. Use it well, and God speed!

This is terrible, I don't know when we will get another chance. Well it was worth the try. Good luck my son, I feel that you will face more horrors, be strong and you will succeed.

This one’s actually already documented here and the later variant here. Interestingly, though, it looks like Tremain was still plan-of-record at the point (early November 1996).

Izual

I don't know if I should be telling you this, but I overheard the new priest talking yesterday. He was having a quiet argument with someone I didn't recognize. The stranger said that you should not be told about something he called Azurewrath, or the Angel named Izual! There was something about a key in a barrel. I'm sorry but that is all I heard, I hope it helps.

Another mortal seeks his death...

Maybe it wasn't a key in a barrel, but rather that a barrel was the key.

Azurewrath is a magical sword! And Izual was a Fallen Angel! I hope you didn't get hurt, and I'm glad I was able to help you! Good luck, I know you'll do your best to save our land from the darkness.

Anvil of Fury

The weapons you got from that Hellish place are far better than any I can make. How can there be so many magical weapons in that place!. When I was a boy, my father told me of a magic anvil. Any weapon made with this anvil would also be magical. He called it the Anvil of Fury. I don't know where it would be, but the magic weapons would need a really hot tempering.

(nice typo)

The Anvil of Fury would allow me to make magical weapons for you! Magic weapons would need a really hot forge to temper. I hope you can find it. Good Luck!

Wow! You found it... oh... that looks really heavy! You can put it down right over there! Perfect! The first weapon I make with it is yours my friend!

This one made it to retail, with slightly different text. Here’s someone beating it for comparison: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8P2dhG84IgA

Ah the prototypical quest. I call this the intro, nag, and end respectively:

intro is delivered when first talking to the NPC given that quest conditions are met.

nag is given the subsequent times that the NPC is talked to, before the quest is done

end is spoken at the completion of the quest, usually accompanied by a reward. The quest might already be gone from the quest log at this point

I’d say Andariel also follows this formula.

If the caves were still in the Beta, I wonder if this quest would have been playable...

Island of the Sunless Sea

Hey, yyou..friend...thhank you...thanks...the Angel island where Angels watch...watched...you neeed...the...chchoose the rright rrock...and...shield you eyes...shield everything...you......

Not a lot to go on here, but this is probably the unimplemented Island of the Sunless Sea.

Fleshdoom

I represent the Church on this matter. We believe that through the Cathedral you are entering Hell itself. This provides a unique opportunity...Many years ago, a demonic beast rose from the depths and razed entire villages. We finally vanquished him, only to have him return twice now, to repeat this foul cycle. Perhaps if he is destroyed below, in his own plane, he will forever be defeated... If Fleshdoom possesses a blade composed of the blackest metal, do not use it! Bring the tainted weapon to me, so I can dispose of it. I believe he resides in the deepest levels under the cathedral.

I wish you luck in hunting Fleshdoom, his evil goes beyond words. Remember, the accursed black sword he wields should not be used by mortal man. Bring it back to me, only my powers can destroy it.

Good..but we must also destroy the sword, for this evil to end...

You did it! Lord be praised! Please, let me now destroy that evil weapon of Hell!...Oh, no...what's happening...it isn't working...Quickly! Our only chance now is to cast this weapon into the Forge of Hell, from whence it came! Try further still...into the depths...Oh, my...god...

YOU HAVE TAKEN YOUR LAST BREATH HUMAN! MY BLADE SHALL FEED ON YOUR FLESH, AND I SHALL TASTE YOUR PAIN AS YOU DIE!

Lachdanan

Please! Don't kill me...I was once human...I have been looking for a cure to this curse, but it is locked away far beyond my reach...If you help me, I will help you...Look for a Golden Elixor.

No elixor? I fear that I am doomed for eternity...Please keep trying...

I owe you my life. Take this helm! It was my prison here in this realm, but now maybe you can use it to avenge this evil!

Map of the Stars

Damn...Where is that map...Dad said it was between the rock and the tree...before the bridge...It should be right h- OH! Hi...uh...didn’t see ya there...uh...

What have we here? A map... ...hmmm...This bodes of great ill...You must work quickly now! Diablo readies his armies for impending attack. Take back this map and check it often. When the two stars align, Diablo will complete the final ritual necessary to open a full gate into our world. Our only hope is that you stop him before this confluence. Go now! And Hurry!

We have very little time...I sense Diablo's power building...

Tasks

{I can brew better potions if you can find this for me:}

{Great! Here's a sample.}

{I could write a book of magic if I could study these scrolls:}

{Thank you, I will teach you what I learn.}

{Great power can be found in iron figurines below the church. I can work wonders with these:}

{This is amazing! Now I need a specific staff to invoke its power:}

{I need a staff to invoke the power of the figurines.}

{That's just what we need! I hope you like the results.}

{The king's army is in need of supplies, these items will fetch a special price.}

{Excellent! Here is your reward.}

{I've got an idea I want to test. Find me this weapon and I think I can make it better:}

{Find me this weapon and I think I can make it better:}

{Let me just...It works! Take this back and give it a try!.}

{I'm working on a method for toughening armor. I can try it if you bring me this:}

{Good find! See if this works any better for you.}

{If you come across enchanted equipment, I can try to use its methods on my own creations. Here is what I seek:}

{Here is what I seek:}

{Thank you! This will take some study...}

{Keep your eyes open for an iron figurine. I have special knowledge about these:}

{Keep your eyes open for these:}

{This is amazing! Now I need one of these, and I will make it gleam with power!}

{Now I need one of these, and I will make it gleam with power!}

{That looks just fine! I believe you will like this alot.}

{A traveller passed through recently wielding a unique weapon. He believed that killing a certain monster with it would invoke its true power. As he has not returned, I fear he is dead.}

{Have you seen the traveller with the enchanted weapon? I fear he is dead.}

{That is the traveller's weapon. He was hunting this monster:}

{One of my regular patrons seeks vengeance for her slain brother. She will reward you if you bring me evidence that you have killed this monster:}

{For proof of vengeance fullfilled I need this:}

{Ahh! I hope this put's her mind at ease...Here is your reward.}

{A nearby home was ransacked by a group of foul beasts. They killed the owner and took a chest full of valuable belongings. You will need the key first, so look for these creatures:}

{These creatures hold the key to a valuable chest:}

{I see you have the key, now find the chest that it opens.}

{You'd be my hero, if you slayed this monster for me!}

{Won't you prove your worth by besting this demon?}

{My! Aren't you brave!}

{It is said that, on this day, if you leave a token in the cemetary, tomorrow it will be altered. Try one of these:}

{I had a dream that you punched a demon and it exploded into fabulous treasure. I think the beast had this name:}

{Hey! Its my best customer! My partner had an accident and I need some help refilling my inventory. I'll trade you my best item if you can bring me these:}

{I'll trade you my best item if you can bring me these:}

{Thanks! This should tide me over 'till I find a new partner. Here's your half of the bargain:}

{I've got something special today. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I can tell that it's great...So, I'm gonna offer you a bargain: 1000 gold takes it. No questions, no returns.}

{I've acquired a certain rare tome. This book requires a crystal eyepiece to read, however, and I don't have it. The book is useless to me. I will give it to you if you give me these things:}

{Give me these things and I will give you a rare tome:}

{You got it all! Here's the Tome. I hope you find the crystal eyepiece, without it you will never be able to read it.}

{I must speak with you! While calling on a villager, I came upon a Demon! I left the door open for you. Please investigate!}

{These creatures must be banished! I left the door open for you.}

{The village is once again in your debt.}

{I am in need of a certain reagents to help heal the plagues that the demons bring. If you gather these things, I shall reward you well:}

{You bring light to this dark and troubled time...I wish you to have this...}

{I ask that you find a pool of clear water. Fill these containers and return. Then I will concoct a useful elixor.}

{Very good! Just give me a minute to mix the ingrediants... ...Ah! Here you go!.}

Farnham

{I wanna tell ya...and I know this stuff...this's's what ya might call my espesiality, so lissen' up...this here is the best...thee best...you lissen' ta me...} ...no one ever lis-HICK...lissen's to me...sumwhere...I ain't too sure...sumwhere...just unner the church...is a whole pile o' gold...gleemin' an' a shinin'.. jus waitin' fer sumone to get at it...this kinna monster hazza key...}

{I know ya gots yer own eyedeas...an' I know yer not gonna baleev zis...but that weppon' yer holdin'...they jus' aint no good aginst yer tuffer beasties...}

{If I was you...an' I aint, but if I was...I'd'a sell all a that stuff, et least mosta' it...That boy out there...that poor kid wif' no leg...no foot...he got sumpin' good...But he ain' even gonna offer it to ya, 'less you got sum gold...an' lots of it!

The Skeleton King

I would like to ask your help. Years ago a corrupt king destroyed the land with necromancy. He used his dark powers to kill all before him, then he would raise the dead to join his army of evil. One of the king's own knights finally struck him down; now he rests in the catacombs of the cathedral.With evil upon our land once more, I fear that the Skeleton King is again at work; building an undead army. If you slay the evil king, he can not raise his army of skeleton warriors to destroy our land.You will find the king's tomb 3 levels below.

The Skeleton Kings undead minions still plague this land! You must kill the Dark King or the walking dead will destroy every thing! His tomb is 3 levels below.

You have saved this land from a terrible evil. With the King again resting in peace, the undead hordes will not return. Thank you.

The Butcher

Please help....! I barely escaped from ....... the Butcher...! He killed .... my wife ... my children! I beg of you ...... in the name of God ......... avenge them.........

<..........> The man's body appears to be twisted in agony!

<..........> The man appears to be in peace.

The Magic Rock

I have a story that I think you might be interested in. A few weeks ago a star fell from the sky. A caravan carried a piece of the sky rock to the royal capital for the King's wizards to study. On the road north of here, they were ambushed by evil forces eminating from the cathedral. I looked among the refuse and carnage for the sky rock, but it was no where to be found. If you can find it, I will try to make something out of it. If it is magical, it might be of some use to you!

I'm still waiting for you to bring me that piece of star that fell. If it is magical, I could make something that you could use to fight the evil in our homeland.

Hey! It looks like that could be it! Give me some time.....Ah! Here you go....I made a ring out of a small piece. I hope its of some use to you. Good Luck!

The Bone Chamber

....and so the knowledge was too great. With reluctance, the power of the awesome and destructive spell was sealed forever beyond the Chamber of Bone. A magical stairway marks the way to the Chamber. Many have tried to recover the power sealed within, but all have fallen prey to the Guardians. You have been warned.

Here is the nova spell huhh..hhuhhhh. words....

The Maze

Beyond the Hall of Heros awaits the catacombs. Be warned: He who would steal from the dead. Traps and more await below to deal with would be thieves.

Ogden

Thank goodness you've returned! Much has changed since you lived here, my friend. All was peaceful until the dark riders came and destroyed our village. Many were cut down where they stood. Those who took up arms were slain or dragged away to become slaves - or worse. The church at the edge of town has been desecrated and is being used for dark rituals. The screams that echo in the night are inhuman, but some of our townsfolk may yet survive. Follow the path that lies between my tavern and the blacksmith shop to find the church and save who you can. Perhaps I can tell you more if we speak again. Good luck.

There is an old woman who lives across the river to the east. It is said that she knows much about magic. She may be able to help you in your quest.

Continue on your quest, my friend. Only the destruction of the evil that binds us can bring us peace.

Poison Water

Everyone is sick! The demons have tunneled into our well sources and fouled our water. Find the tunnel and stop them or we will all die!

Please, you must hurry! The demons have tunneled into our ground water and are poisoning it.

Thank you so much! If you had not stopped them, we would all have perished! Let me express my gratitude with this magic ring.

Butcher Portal

Here over, pssst! Chamber Butcher the from spell portal town the cast! Saying I am what?

Garbud

No hurt! Not Kill! Keep alive, next time good bring to you!

Something for you! Again, too! Garbud live! No hurt!

Nothing! Could not get! Stop! Live! Live! No pain!

Garbud big! You weak! You scared! Now you die!

Halls of the Blind

I can see what you see not. Vision milky then eyes rot. When you turn they will be gone, Whispering their hidden song. Then you see what connot be Shadows move where light should be. Out of darkness out of mind, Cast down into the Halls of the Blind.

Stones of Blood

...and so, locked beyond the Gateway of Blood and past the Hall of Fire. Valor awaits for the Hero of Light to awaken...THIS QUEST IS NOT WORKING YET...

Zhar the Mad

What?!...Why are you here?...All these interuptions...Here, take this and begon! Trouble me no more! NEXT TIME...

Arrgghh! If you insist on disturbing my work, then I must put an end to your curiosity!

Infested Cellar

I was calling on one of the townsmen who is very ill, when I made a bone-chilling discovery. Odd sounds...and a sick sweet smell rising from the cellar. I looked below and saw monstrous demonic worms shift and squirm. They must have tunneled up from the underlying catacombs...I emplore you! You must slay these worms! I left the man's door open for you. Its that house right in front of me...

I fear that the worms could soon overrun the village...I think I heard them under my house. Please, seek them out through that house opposite mine...

Once again you have saved us from the encroaching evil. We are forever in your debt.

Black Mushroom

What do we have here?...Interesting...It looks like...Keep your eyes open for a black mushroom, it should be fairly large.

A mushroom? Oh, yes...This will be perfect in my stew...By the way, I heard the Healer is looking for the brain of a demon...

Why, thank you...Oh, could you bring this elixor to the witch, as long as you're going that way?

What?! Oh, I don't need that anymore...Keep it.

Ogden’s Sign

I don't understand why the demons stole the sign to my inn, but didn't burn it down or kill me and my family. It's so strange... don't you think?

Hey! You that manling kill all! You get me Magic Banner or die! You no leave with life! You kill big uglies give back Magic! Past corner and door are uglys! You give you go!

You kill uglies give banner!

You give! Yes good! Go! Go good! We strong good! We kill all! Now magic strong!

Oh! You didn't have to bring back my sign! But I am very glad you did. Here, take this cap, it should be of some value to you.

Some details have changed, but this is pretty close to retail: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMf1-2CwoA0

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24hourchampagnediet-blog1 · 5 years

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What to see and do at The Big E when you only have a day - News - The Bulletin

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What to see and do at The Big E when you only have a day - News - The Bulletin

Most people in New England start thinking about pumpkin spice and apple picking as soon as the calendar flips to September. For me, Labor Day weekend and back to school means one thing: the Big E is almost here.

As a Western Mass. native, I grew up going to the Big E, otherwise known as The Eastern States Exposition, a huge 2-and-a-half week fair featuring everything from carnival rides and games to the latest and greatest gizmos, with a smattering of agricultural presentations, giant pumpkins, musical performances, a Mardi Gras parade and lots and lots of food. Like, a lot.

The Big E runs daily, Friday through Sept. 29. One day usually isn’t enough to take it all in, so if you aren’t making a weekend of it, let me tell you how I — a professional Big E attendee who has gone just about every year for the past 25 years or so – make my way through the fairgrounds so you can get the best Big E experience possible.

GETTING THERE

Be prepared. You will walk all day, so wear comfortable shoes. It’s often chilly in the morning and again when the sun goes down but is often blazing hot in between, so wear layers and bring sunblock. Leave your heavy purse at home. Instead, carry a light crossbody bag or a backpack. You’ll want something to carry your stuff in but you’ll want your hands free to juggle a drink in one hand, a cheese sample in the other. Or, you might get a free tote along the way in which to carry your sweater and purchases.

Leave early. Really early. Seriously. Traffic getting in as the morning progresses and after lunch is awful. I try to get there by 9 a.m. Gates open at 8 a.m. but most things don’t open until 10 a.m. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you how to spend that time in a bit.

Parking. I get there early and just park in the official main lot, at Gate 9. Cash only, $10. You’ll see unofficial parking leading up to, past and in the neighborhoods around Gate 9. Don’t park far away in the cheaper lots – you’ll regret it after you have to walk all the way back after being on your feet all day. Also, don’t get lured into a closer, pricier lot. If you get there as early as I suggest, you’ll get a spot close enough to the fairgrounds entrance in the main lot that paying double elsewhere isn’t worth it.

Tickets. Buy tickets online or at a Big Y supermarket for a couple dollars cheaper than at the gate, plus you skip what is sometimes a long ticket line at the gate. You can buy a pass if you plan on going a few times. At the gate, tickets cost $15 for adults, $10 for children ages 6-12, free for children 5 and younger.

YOU MADE IT! NOW WHAT?

Eat breakfast. If you entered through Gate 9, you’ll walk into a section with swimming pool sales and a wine barn that feeds into an intersection where every which way, all you see is food. Resist the urge; besides, these stands probably aren’t open yet. Head straight, past the food, past a music stage and coliseum, bear right onto Hampden Avenue and head to the fire station on the right. If you entered elsewhere, ask where to find the West Springfield Fire House. Here you will find a delicious breakfast platter, offering eggs the way you like them, bacon, toast, breakfast potatoes, coffee and juice. There are other options. The line will look long but moves pretty quickly. Plus, you get to sit while you eat. This may be the last time you sit all day. One of my goddaughters doesn’t like anything there and always runs over to The Donut Family stand to get mini doughnuts. She really likes their new cinn-a-roll mini doughnuts, covered in cinnamon cream cheese icing and topped with whipped cream. Yup, it’s going to be that kind of day. Check your Keto diet at the gate.

Get thee to the state buildings. The Avenue of States, as it is officially known, features buildings representing each of the six New England states: Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Vermont. To this day, I know if a state is in New England by remembering if it has a state building here. The Big E may happen in Mass., but the fair is very good about representing all of New England. Take a look at the calendar to find out which day your state will be celebrated. Anyway, the state buildings feature goods, services and tourist information from each state. And you’ll want to get there early because starting around lunchtime, it can feel like a cattle herd walking around there. I think technically you’re supposed to start in Rhode Island and make your way down, but I do it the opposite direction because New Hampshire is the first state building you hit after the fire station. Everyone has their favorite must-have food in each building. For me, it’s maple cream in a tiny ice cream cone from Vermont, a cup of perfect raspberries from Massachusetts (a friend can’t leave there without a piece of eggy Finnish pancake with syrup), kettle corn from either New Hampshire or Connecticut, depends on when I’m in the mood, and a potato from Danny’s Little Taste of Texas’ Smoke House Grill, between the Connecticut and New Hampshire buildings. Take it from me, this potato is superior to the one people wait hours in line for in the Maine building. I think Maine’s is smaller and the toppings aren’t as good as Danny’s. Only problem is, others have caught on and the lines have grown the past two years to the point where it probably needs to relocate. Worth it though.

Time to get your craft on. I like homemade, crafty, unique things. So after touring the state buildings, I head across the street to Storrowtown Village, which features some historical buildings and often has family-friendly performances on the common which draw a big crowd. Behind that area, I check out the Craft Common. I don’t often buy the crafty things I see at the Big E because sometimes they’re a bit overpriced, but I like to look. You can find all sorts of great gifts and things you won’t find anywhere else, so if you like to get your Christmas shopping out of the way, bring some cash or a credit card. Lots of vendors will hold your items, especially heavy, bigger ones, for you to pick up before you go. Otherwise, plan wisely. You don’t want to carry a big candle or an awkward lawn ornament around for 10 hours. The Craft Common also features an item I used to get every year but stopped a while back – a giant pickle out of a barrel. Try one if you need something salty by now.

Get your puff on. It’s hard to know if you’ll be hungry at this point; it depends on how much you ate through the state buildings. But if there’s room in your stomach, now is the time to try the Big E’s famous cream puff, found in the New England Center, just beyond the Craft Common. This year, they’ll even dip it in ganache. How this wasn’t a thing before is beyond me. You can find a whole list of new food offered this year here: https://www.thebige.com/p/food/newfoods.

THE REST OF THE FAIR

If you’re with kids. You’ll probably want to head to the back of the fairgrounds where the midway is, featuring tons of rides and games. There is a separate section for rides for small kids. At night, the midway looks like a Friday night at the mall, full of teens, so best to bring little kids earlier. You’ll also find a stand featuring all things battered and deep fried back here. I like the fried Oreos and Fluffernutter. Be sure you have a couple of people willing to share it with you though. You’ve been warned. After you’ve had your fill of rides or run out of ride tickets, there are lots of animals to check out. Head to the Mallary Complex in the corner of the fairgrounds to check out farm animals, a milking parlor and a big ol’ sculpture of something different every year made entirely out of – ready for this? – butter. Or across from the fried food stand you’ll find the Stroh Building, featuring Farm-A-Rama. People love to gather around a big closed-in area where baby chicks are hatching to see which one might pop out next. There’s a table in here that often offers apples for free. Sometimes I grab one to feel healthy. Marvel at the ginormous Clydesdale horses. If you don’t see them in their stall, you might catch them in the Mardi Gras parade that goes around the entire fairgrounds every day at 5 p.m. Be ready for that thing, because it closes down the streets for a little while. And watch out for strands of beads getting thrown from the floats.

If you’re not with kids. There are some years I don’t even walk through the midway because I’m not with children. Instead, I head over to the Better Living Center and the Young Building. Both feature booth after booth of random things, lots of them of the “As Seen on TV” persuasion. You’ll find the latest mop, vegetable peeler, Vitamix, you name it. There’s seasoning to make dips, powders to make frozen drinks, beef jerky and hot sauces. There’s clothes and stuff for the house. Bring your patience with you, because by now it will likely be busy in there. And hot.

Be a kid again. The Giant Slide is out the back of the Better Living Center, if you came in from the entrance facing the coliseum building (by the way, if you’re into horses or just want to get off your feet and out of the sun, then check out the shows inside the coliseum throughout the day). If you can walk up all the stairs, then go down the slide. It’s only a few bucks, the line moves pretty quickly and it’s the funnest 10 seconds of your life, especially if you’re holding hands with your bestie or your child. Take a selfie as you go.

TIME FOR DINNER

Get something meaty. Chances are, you’ve been nibbling all day, but by now, you’re probably hungry for something a little more substantial. There are lots of options around you, including a place in front of the Better Living Center that offers huge steak sandwiches that a friend of mine can’t leave the Big E without eating. In case you think you haven’t consumed enough calories yet, around the corner, at the Big E-Z Cafe, you can get a bacon cheeseburger between two halves of a glazed doughnut. I’ve had a bite; it’s better than you think. A family friend works at the corn dog stand – last year it was closer to the Mallary Complex – if you want one. Can you go to a fair without getting a corn dog? There’s also a beer garden over there. And if you didn’t get deep-fried-fill-in-the-blank before, now’s your chance.

WRAP IT UP

You’re exhausted. There’s still lots of things you can check out, and if you have the energy, by all means, explore. But chances are, it’s getting dark, it’s a little chilly, your feet are throbbing and your wallet is empty. Time to circle back and collect anything you bought and had held or to buy the things you weren’t sure about earlier but want to pull the trigger on now. Then you have to take that long walk back to your car. But you’ll remember that deep-fried pineapple upside down cake on a stick you just ate and will be grateful to get a few more steps in. You’ll have a mental list of all the things you’ll want to see and do again next year and what things you missed that you want to make sure you see next time. Then, start marking the calendar until next September.

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fuckyeahtattoogirls-blog1 · 5 years

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What to see and do at The Big E when you only have a day - News - The Bulletin

New Post has been published on https://bestrawfoodrecipes.com/what-to-see-and-do-at-the-big-e-when-you-only-have-a-day-news-the-bulletin/

What to see and do at The Big E when you only have a day - News - The Bulletin

GETTING THERE

YOU MADE IT! NOW WHAT?

THE REST OF THE FAIR

TIME FOR DINNER

WRAP IT UP

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keijay-blog · 6 years

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New Post has been published on https://cookingtipsandreviews.com/butter-shortening-or-lard-find-out-which-makes-t/

Butter, Shortening or Lard? Find Out Which Makes t...

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Lisa KaminskiAugust 30, 2018

Photo: Taste of Home

The perfect pie starts with a great pie crust. So what’s the best choice for your pie crust recipe: butter, shortening or lard? We put them to the test.

When it comes to the holidays, pie takes a starring role. We love our pumpkin, pecan and apple pies on Thanksgiving (and I love to mix up a potpie with turkey leftovers). While these tasty treats come in many shapes and sizes, they all rely on a good, flaky crust to carry delicious fillings—while simultaneously providing an extra layer of flavor.

But there’s much debate about how to get that perfect crust. If you asked my grandmother, she’d tell you to use lard. My mom would tell you butter. Others swear by shortening to bind the ingredients together. To put this debate to rest, I gathered up a few foodies for a blind taste test of these three crust options. To make it a fair comparison, we had our Test Kitchen team mix up three crusts using the same recipe, just switching up the fats: butter, lard and shortening.

What Our Test Kitchen Has to Say

Do you know the difference between butter, margarine, shortening and lard? Learn how to master each ingredient with our expert guide.

Butter vs. Shortening vs. Lard Pie Crust Taste Test

Photo: Taste of Home

#3 Shortening

Average score: 2.5/10

“How disappointing!”

Of our three options, shortening got the lowest marks. Looking at the array of mini crusts, we could see that this one baked up the darkest and didn’t have much rise. In and of itself, this didn’t give us too much cause for alarm.

As we dug into the incredibly crumbly crust, however, we began to feel a little worried. Breaking our pie wafers in half was impossible—they just fell into a bunch of smaller pieces. This made us wonder if a shortening crust could hold up to the weight of heartier fillings. The thought of slicing into our favorite pies and having them fall apart in the pan definitely had us a little stressed. Would the flavor make up for the crumbly texture of this crust? Unfortunately, it did not. We found it to be pretty greasy both in taste and texture (we were definitely cleaning a film off our hands after this test). Flavor-wise, the shortening didn’t wow us, either. It was relatively flavorless, giving us a flat, gritty, bland crust.

Photo: Taste of Home

#2 Lard

Average score: 3/10

“I feel like this would just fall apart.”

Ranking not much higher than shortening was our lard crust. In many ways, this crust was quite similar to the shortening version. It stands to reason, since both lard and shortening are 100 percent fat (as compared to butter, which is roughly 85 percent fat and 15 percent water) and behave very similarly.

As such, the lard also produced a flat, crumbly crust with noticeable greasiness. This one fared slightly better in the test because the lard provided more flavor than the shortening. We detected just a hint more richness in this sample. Still, we were unimpressed by the old-fashioned ingredient’s performance.

Photo: Taste of Home

#1 Butter

Average score: 9/10

“This tastes like home.”

Knocking it out of the park with a near-perfect score was our butter crust. Judging by appearance alone, this one was a definite standout. The mini crusts had a lot of rise, were a light golden color and, when broken in half, revealed lots of gorgeous, flaky layers.

Taking a taste, we were all impressed. This crust gave us the rich, buttery flavor we had been seeking. We agreed that we could definitely eat these little discs plain (though one clever tester grabbed a jar of jam for a little extra oomph).

After munching through our fair share of buttery wafers, we also made note of how much body this crust had. It was airy and light, but never crumbled to pieces the way the shortening and lard crusts had. We finally found the perfect base for our favorite pies. We’re certain this sturdy, delicious rendition would keep all our favorite fillings in place.

The Takeaways

When it comes to our blind taste tests, we usually find it’s a close race between a few contenders (our frozen pizza winner edged out second place by less than half a point!). This time, though, there was one very clear victor. Butter made a tastier, flakier, sturdier crust by far.

This isn’t to say that shortening and lard aren’t useful ingredients. Shortening is a great way to get incredibly tender desserts. It’s part of what makes these pumpkin whoopie pies so delectable. And lard is a key ingredient in tamales (try making them yourself!). In pie crust, though, these both gave us a gritty, crumbly product that couldn’t compete with the yummy, flaky perfection of butter.

Photo: Taste of Home

The Best Pie Crust Recipe

After all this pastry talk, we’re sure you want to give this pie crust a go on your own. Follow along for our Test Kitchen’s standard crust recipe. We definitely preferred butter, but you can substitute the same amount of shortening or lard—or some of each—for butter here.

You’ll need:

1-1/4 cups all-purpose flour 1/4 teaspoons salt 1/2 cup cold butter, cubed 3-5 tablespoons water

Yield: One nine-inch pie crust

Combine flour and salt. Cut in cold butter until mixture is crumbly. Then gradually add the cold water, tossing with a fork until dough holds together when pressed. Form dough into a ball or patty, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for one hour. On a lightly floured surface, roll into a circle about 1/8 inch thick. Bake according to your pie recipe’s instructions.

I’m happy to have this debate settled. Want to conduct your own test? Try these homemade pie crust recipes,

25 Homemade Pie Crust Recipes Like Grandma Used to Make

Raspberry-Rhubarb Slab Pie

“Slab pie” is a pastry baked in a jelly-roll pan and cut in slabs like a bar cookie—or a pie bar, if you will. My grandfather was a professional baker and served pieces of slab pie to his customers back in the day. Here is my spin, featuring rhubarb and gorgeous red raspberries. —Jeanne Ambrose, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

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Golden Apple Pie

Pies are the dessert I like best to prepare. This one’s the favorite for family get-togethers, and it has been awarded blue ribbons at a couple of local fairs. —Theresa Brazil, Petaluma, California

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Rustic Chocolate Raspberry Tart

Here’s a delectable dessert that all ages will enjoy. From raspberries to a Nutella-covered homemade pastry crust, you won’t be able to get enough of this. —Christina Seremetis, Rockland, Massachusetts

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Mango Pie with Coconut Crust

This was the first pie I created myself. Mangoes are one of my favorite fruits, and they deserve to be represented in a pie. Of course, everything is better with coconut. —Jennifer Worrell, Niles, Illinois

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Cinnamon-Sugar Apple Pie

Apple pie baked in a cast iron skillet is a real stunner. This beauty, with its flaky, tender crust, also works in a 9-inch deep-dish pie plate. —Renee Schettler Rossi, New York, New York

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Rustic Caramel Apple Tart

Like an apple pie without the pan, this scrumptious tart has a crispy crust that cuts nicely and a yummy caramel topping. —Betty Fulks, Onia, Arkansas

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Best Ever Fresh Strawberry Pie

Next time you get a pint or two of perfectly ripe strawberries, make my favorite pie. It combines fresh berries and a lemony cream cheese layer. If you’re in a hurry, use a pre-made pie shell. —Janet Leach, Granger, Washington

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Bourbon-Kissed Pecan Pie

This rich pie is always on our Thanksgiving dessert table. Find more of my recipes on my blog, A Southern Grace.—Grace Mannon, Abingdon, Virginia

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Classic Pumpkin Pie

Nothing says Thanksgiving like a slice of pumpkin pie. And you can relish every luscious bite of this version since the tender crust is made with a mere hint of canola oil and butter. —Taste of Home Test Kitchen

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Cast-Iron Peach Crostata

While the crostata, an open-faced fruit tart, is actually Italian, my version’s peach filling is American all the way. —Lauren Knoelke, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

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Blueberry Pie with Lemon Crust

I just had to share this blueberry pie recipe. Mom and I have fun making it together, and I hope one day to be a great baker like she is. —Sara West, Broken Arrow, Oklahoma

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Lattice-Topped Apple Pie

You can’t beat my mom’s yummy apple pie. Pretty as a picture, the golden crust is flaky and the filling has just the right amount of spices. —Anne Halfhill, Sunbury, Ohio

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The Best Apple Pie

Boost your apple pie with a buttery crust, pre-cooked apples and an incredible filling with cider, cinnamon and lemon juice. —Nick Iverson, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

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Cranberry Walnut Pie

Here’s a wonderful dessert for Christmas or Thanksgiving. With ruby-red color and a golden lattice crust, this pie looks as good as it tastes. —Diane Everett, Dunkirk, New York

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Oregon’s Best Marionberry Pie

I believe Oregon marionberries make about the best berry pie in the world. And when you add some cream cheese and flavorings, you’ll be making the best even better! —Frances Benthin, Scio, Oregon

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Autumn Surprise Pie

When the weather starts getting a little cooler and the leaves start falling, what better way to welcome in fall than with a homemade pie? This version calls for apples, pears and raisins flavored with rum extract. —Karen Gauvreau, Clearwater, Florida

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Apple Butter and Pumpkin Pie

I’m proud of this pie because I made it up in my head, and it turned out very well! It’s a little different from traditional pumpkin or pecan pie, which makes it a nice holiday surprise. —Sherry Little, Sherwood, Arkansas

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Ricotta Pie (Pizza Dolce) with Chocolate and Raspberry

My grandmother recalls ricotta pie always making an appearance on Easter when she was little. Now I’ve taken here recipe and created a pared down version for a more upscale appearance at holidays and other gatherings. —Stephen DeBenedictis, Wakefield, Massachusetts

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Ginger Peach Pies

I love ginger in any way, shape or form, so I always look for ways to include it in recipes, especially desserts. Peaches and ginger star in this mini pie that offers the right amount of sweetness and spice. —Rae Endicott, Branson, Missouri

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Lattice-Topped Pear Slab Pie

A lattice top serves as a charming frame for this special holiday dessert filled with fresh pears and candied fruit. Add a dollop of whipped cream if you like. —Johnna Johnson, Scottsdale, Arizona

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Apple Cranberry Slab Pie

My husband loves pie, so I made one with apples, raspberries and cranberries. It’s so good, I bend the rules and let the grandkids have it for breakfast. —Brenda Smith, Curran, Michigan

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Triple Pear Pie

One year, I won a giveaway and received three different kinds of pears. After sharing a few with family, I decided to use the rest to prepare a pie for our dessert at Easter that year. Put this together with some vanilla ice cream and it’s the perfect pairing! —Jenn Tidwell, Fair Oaks, California

Get Recipe

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