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roguishcat · 3 months ago

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The Best Laid Plans

Summary: Even the best laid plans may go wrong. Admittedly, Astarion's plan hadn't been that great to begin with. Part 2 of 'Part of His Plan'.

Pairing: Astarion x unnamed female Tav

Word count: 4k

Tags: Romance, Astarion is bad at feelings, Unnamed female Tav, Angst, Tooth-rotting fluff, Romance and feels

A/N: This story has a wonderful beta!! Thank you so much @preciouslittlebhaalbae! 💖💖💖 You are an absolute gem and the loveliest person ever for doing this! 🫂Thank you for your patience and kind suggestions! (because I'm a silly person who can't spot even obvious mistakes and @preciouslittlebhaalbae has the patience of a saint). You might remember me posting snippets from this back in January, so this is my second finished WIP for @thekindredcollective BG3 Spring Cleaning!

Hope you enjoy the story and please let me know what you think! 💖💖 Comments, likes and reposts are always loved! 💖💖

Tav had a shadow and its name was Astarion.

She didn’t notice immediately. She was far too concerned with saving Thaniel, breaking the curse, helping every single one of their companions on their personal quests, and combating the mindless creatures wanting to murder them from the moment they stepped out of the dome protecting the Last Light Inn.

At first, Tav thought that she was just imagining it. Because every time she looked up, she seemed to glimpse silver curls, feel feather-light touches of cool fingers on her neck, all but taste rosemary, bergamot and brandy on her tongue. This lasted only a moment, yet a moment was all he ever needed to leave a lasting impression on her.

At some point, Astarion seemed to decide to stop bothering to pretend that he wasn’t following Tav around, his ruby eyes all but boring holes into her back as he watched her closely.

Now, this wasn’t the first time that Astarion acted somewhat uncanny. Perhaps two hundred years of being forced to do someone’s bidding did that to an elf. Either way, Tav didn’t want to offend Astarion. So she chose not to comment on how odd his behaviour was.

However, the longer they travelled, the more Astarion seemed to insert himself into every situation, making sure that he was at her side at all times. She would round a corner and bump into his leather-clad back. Walk down the stairs and he was already waiting for her, tapping his foot in an impatient manner as he scowled at whoever was walking behind her at the time.

Finally, when she almost tripped over him, Tav decided to ask Astarion about it.

"Astarion, is there something you want?"

"Me? Why would you ask such a thing, my sweet?" Astarion said with a crooked smile, and Tav noticed how tensely he held himself. A coil waiting to spring upward at a smallest tap.

"Well.. Lately, I've noticed that you’ve started to… hover."

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say. His expression shuttered and he took a step back.

“And I take it that you’d rather I didn’t, is that it?”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I -”

"If you do not wish for my company, you can just come out and say so! Send me back to camp to wallow in misery as Gale attempts to engage me in decidedly unengaging conversation," Astarion all but hissed at her.

Astarion regretted snapping at her almost immediately. He knew that it was uncalled for. Tav was nothing but kind and accommodating. But he couldn’t help the bitterness he felt when seeing her treat everyone else with the same thoughtfulness, the same caring. Was her protecting him nothing but an obligation? Was Tav offering her neck to him time and time again something that she would have done for any soul that needed sustenance? To him, it seemed that lately she led without making sure that he followed. Was whatever they shared coming to its logical conclusion sooner than he anticipated?

"I didn't say that I don't want you around," Tav frowned and took a careful step towards him, trying to mitigate the conflict before they started arguing in earnest. "I just want to make sure that everything is alright."

"As is your duty, my fair leader. To check up on any and all lost causes that seek your company, hm?"

Tav wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. His words felt cruel, though, and she felt herself flush.

"Sometimes I don't understand what you want from me, Astarion.”

He winced at how hurt she sounded. Another, better adjusted person, would be quick to apologise. Blame it all on being tired and frazzled, suggest with a rueful smile that the shadows were getting to him. Yet, Astarion only watched as Tav walked past the rest of the party. Shadowheart and Karlach, who had been standing nearby, choose not to comment on the exchange.

He'd rather have one of them punch him than have them silently disapprove. At least then he’d pretend he was angry at his companions rather than himself. Anger was familiar territory. Fear was nothing new. Whatever he felt now was a different, unfamiliar brand of torture.

An hour later Astarion found himself nervously pacing up and down his tent. Or at least doing something as close to pacing as he could in such cramped quarters. His thoughts a flurry of worries and poorly supressed insecurities, Astarion had no idea how to fix this mess. He wasn’t even sure why he was so worried about it in the first place.

By now he knew Tav well enough to be certain that she would not banish him. She would not do that to any of them without just cause. And no matter how unreasonable and hurtful he had been, she would not leave him to die.

So why did he want to fix this so badly? Surely not because he was worried that whatever this was, whatever tentative trust he’d managed to establish between them, would be over come morning once she had some time to think? Because even someone as forgiving as Tav had her limits. She was kind and warm, accepting and generous; but she was no fool.

Astarion stopped abruptly and put his arms around himself.

He had to fix this. Somehow.

Turning to his trunk, he lifted the lid and rummaged around, digging up the bottle that he was saving for a special occasion. Grovelling for his lover to forgive him seemed like special occasion enough.

Then Astarion spent an age making sure that he looked his best. After all, presentation was half the victory!

Thus primped and primed - and carrying a peace offering - Astarion stalked through the night, making sure to avoid his campmates. He really did not feel like getting some unsolicited advice from anyone for the time being.

Standing in front of the tent, he suddenly felt nervous. A strange, sick feeling in his stomach, he found he was unsure if he wanted to know what Tav would say to him.

Taking a breath he didn’t need, Astarion plastered his best smile on his face and moved the tent flap aside.

"Dearest, how about we both choose to be adults about this and make up, hm?"

"Sure," Tav said without looking up from whatever she was doing, effectively dismissing him. Clearly, it was 'thanks for the half-baked apology', but 'no thanks' to spending an evening together. Choosing to soldier on against all odds, Astarion pretended that he could not read her body language and sat down beside her on the bedroll.

"Now... Can I tempt you with some wine? Or perhaps with some other… delights?" Astarion drawled seductively, fingers dancing down the wine bottle’s curved side.

He was a vision and he knew it. Hair coiffed just so, shirt slightly loose and showing off more alabaster skin than usual. It was a very tempting sight, if only Tav were in the mood to be tempted.

She didn’t even look up.

"I'm a little busy right now."

Astarion fought back a scowl. He was finding that maintaining a charming façade was quite a challenge when Tav was so decidedly against playing along. Yet, he was not about to give up. Oh, he would not be ignored so easily! He didn’t spend an age getting ready, thinking of what he was going to say, and bringing the bottle of wine that Shadowheart squirreled away, just to be turned down. He would not spend the night alone in his own tent!

Astarion chuckled breathily. "Aren't you always? Which is why you should really let your hair down once in a while,” he dropped his voice an octave, inching towards her. “Live a little, whilst there is still living to be done."

There was a pause, and he would hold his breath if he still needed to draw it.

"Fine," Tav sighed, her shoulders sagging. "Wine, please."

"And whilst you are enjoying a goblet or two, I will fix that tear in your shirt I noticed earlier."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to. Allow yourself to be the one taken care of, for once. Or are you truly that upset with me that you would rather have to walk about with that tear?"

"I'm not upset with you. I'm angry with myself."

Now that was a development that he could not have foreseen. Angry with herself? Whatever had she done?

"Care to share why?"

"Not really."

It seemed that Tav definitely was not in the mood to make this easy for him. Luckily, he knew just how to engage her in conversation.

"And here I thought that we would play that question game you are so fond of! Go on, dearest. Question for question, as is our way."

Ah, finally a little smile for his efforts.

"I suppose.”

Tav took a sip from her goblet, eyes widening when she realised that the wine was actually pleasant. Honestly, did she really think that he wouldn’t bring something half-palatable?

"That's the enthusiastic answer I was hoping for! Now come on, off with your shirt."

Tav put her wine down and pulled the fabric of her shirt up, his eyes following the ascent as soft skin was revealed inch by tantalising inch. He ignored the unbidden, surprising urge to put his lips onto her neck, not to feed but to taste.

Tav handed him the shirt and as their fingers brushed, Astarion was glad that she wasn’t in any hurry to get away from him, allowing him to hold her hand in his.

“So um… same as last time? A question for a question?”

She moved her hand, leaving his digits to cool once her warmth was gone.

“Yes,” he cleared his throat, “that seems reasonable.”

Tav stood up to get the sewing kit and a spare shirt. This gave him ample opportunity to admire her now that her back was turned. One wouldn’t want to be accused of staring! She slid the shirt on quickly, scars disappearing under the simple cloth, making him once again wonder what the story behind those was.

Tav was usually so forthcoming, answering questions without much hesitation or worry. He could understand why someone would be hesitant to talk about scars, but by the gods was he curious to find out the story behind hers!

Seeing that he probably was still in the proverbial doghouse, Astarion decided to start small.

“What is your favourite thing to eat?”

Tav looked at him over her shoulder as she adjusted her clothes.

“I’m surprised you want to know something so boring.”

“My sweet, when it comes to you, nothing could be boring,” he purred, putting his goblet to his lips and looking at her over the rim in a way that had made hundreds swoon.

Tav smiled and sat down on her bedroll, but otherwise did not seem to be affected by his act of seduction. How annoying.

“Well, whilst Gale’s efforts to make something edible out of whatever we manage to come across is close to miraculous, I do miss Baldurian Mash.”

Seeing the look on his face, Tav giggled, “Too common for your tastes?”

“On the contrary!” Astarion laughed. “I am quite sure that I too enjoyed something like this back when… well. Back when I could enjoy the taste of food.”

Tav’s face softened as he muttered the last part. Astarion shifted uncomfortably and took a gulp of his wine. Damn her and that look! Who even looked at people like that! Only Tav did, in his experience.

“As we are on the subject of food, why did you choose me to snack on? Surely others looked just as appealing?” Tav teased.

The truth was at the time he had already known enough about Tav to put his faith in her, to trust her to at least listen to his explanations. He had been almost certain that the others would strike him down for even attempting to come near their necks. Lae’zel would have probably skinned him alive, given the chance. Even now she occasionally questioned whether he was useful enough to keep around.

Astarion poured her more wine, thinking about the best way to answer her question.

“Perhaps you simply looked delicious enough for a predator such as myself to want to take a bite,” Astarion flirted without looking away, attempting to ascertain her mood.

Tav’s lips quirked into a smile and she took a sip of her wine.

“Or perhaps you had already established your reputation as a do-gooder, unable to turn away anyone imploring you to help them. Pick whichever reason you like, dearest,” Astarion shrugged.

Tav gave him a look that made Astarion both nervous and excited. Not exactly a combination a seasoned professional such as he could afford to feel. Maintaining his cool was crucial, he reminded himself. He could not afford to lose focus. Eyes on the prize and all that. The prize being Cazador's head on a silver platter, of course. Not the love of the woman in front of him. Or something equally ridiculous.

“What are you thinking of doing once our adventure is over? Assuming we don’t all die in some horrible manner.”

“I'm not sure," Tav started, "I might stay in Baldur’s Gate for a while. Assuming my house is still intact.”

“You’re from Baldur’s Gate?”

“Yes. Is it so hard to believe?”

“Hah! And I here I was, thinking that you were a country girl through and through. Meeting each sunrise and sundown in some picturesque little village where all the neighbours call each other by their names.”

Tav huffed and moved to punch his biceps without putting much force behind it.

“Oh, don’t get angry.” Astarion caught her fist and put his lips to her knuckles, fangs moving across skin without breaking it. “It’s a compliment, if anything.”

“I will choose to take it as one.” Tav gave a little laugh and pulled back, making Astarion release her hand.

Perhaps he worded it in a way that did not necessarily sound like praise, but he just could not believe that someone as kind and warm as Tav could be a Baldurian. In spite of being thoroughly and repeatedly defiled by him, she still carried that air of sweetness about her. And whilst this irritated him initially, it was… nice. Pleasant to be around someone who did something for others without any ulterior motive. Just out of the goodness of her heart. It was quite frankly a miracle that she hadn’t been killed yet.

Thinking about her mortality had him taking a furtive glance at her side, where the worst of her scars were.

“About your scars, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, how did you get them?”

Tav’s fingers clutched her goblet a little tighter before she caught herself and made a show of wanting to put it down by the bedroll without tipping it over on the uneven surface.

“No, it’s fine. It’s not much of a story. Just a silly girl falling in love with the wrong person only to find out he was using me for his own gain. So, you are right, in a way. Perhaps I wasn’t quite made to live in the city.”

It wasn’t much, but the way her shoulders hunched, her pained expression, her looking at anything but him felt… wrong. To Astarion, Tav was annoyingly righteous, stupidly brave, incredibly stubborn, frustratingly selfless. She was all that and so much more. She deserved better from the world and seeing her look so small made him want to hurt something.

“About earlier…” Tav began tentatively.

“My words were uncalled for. I apologise. I didn’t-”

He wanted to say that he didn’t mean any of it. He wanted to tell her that he just found himself hating that she gave her precious attention to anyone else when he wanted it for himself. He wanted to tell her many things. Naturally, he didn’t say any of them.

“I know. Which is why I was angry at myself. We are all under so much pressure, it’s a wonder that we aren’t constantly at each other’s throats.”

“I was disappointed with myself for thinking that you were like him,” Tav picked her goblet up and took a sip. “Because at that moment, I looked at your face and I saw a spectre that haunted my waking days. And it was wrong of me to assume that you were like that. So, I’m sorry too.”

Astarion felt like someone sucker punched him. Hells, he’d rather she did punch him. Pain he could take. He was used to pain over the years. But this- this raw honesty, the way she looked at him when she said that, the faith she was placing in him-

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Astarion? Are you okay?”

He was not. Because this was wrong. His nice, simple plan had backfired so spectacularly and in a way he could never have imagined.

Shit.

She was waiting for an answer.

“Yes, of course, dearest! Why wouldn’t I be? We made up! I am well, you are well. All is well,” Astarion put both of their goblets of wine away and then moved towards Tav with an intense look in his ruby eyes.

“Just perfect.” Astarion whispered the last part and pressed his lips to hers to stop Tav from asking any more questions.

Astarion lowered Tav onto the bedroll, one hand behind her head, the other on her hip. Slowly, taking his time to savour the softness of her skin, he trailed his fingers up. The fabric of her shirt bunched as his hand traced the contours of her body and settled just below her breast.

“Are you sure?” He felt warm breath against his lips as they broke apart.

Instead of replying, Astarion put his mouth on Tav’s neck, fangs grazing sensitive flesh, her heartbeat strong in his ears. Her blood called to him, but he didn’t dare bite.

He would tell her everything. And he would tell her soon. Because the thought of him being in any way like that vile man who dared to use her and scar her, to put that dejected look on her face, was something that Astarion could not bear.

His movements grew more frantic as he removed the last of the barriers between their bodies, wanting, needing to do enough that she would stay.

Because whilst he didn’t want to examine his feelings for Tav too much, not daring to hope for anything, he was terrified of what the consequences of his deception would be.

When Tav opened her eyes the next morning, Astarion was still in her tent, his deft fingers moving with precision and making quick work of the tear in her shirt.

“Good morning,” she murmured, pushing her messy hair out of her face. Gods, she must truly look a sight.

“Good morning, my sweet,” Astarion replied without looking up, seemingly too focused on his task to pay her much attention.

Tav didn’t expect Astarion to still be here in the morning. Not that she wanted him gone. On the contrary, his staying the night was nice. The thought that he wanted to stay made her blush.

Except Tav had a small problem now. She had to get dressed and Astarion was still here. She could hobble about with her bedsheet wrapped around her body, but she would probably just end up falling forward like a graceless lump. And that was less than ideal when one was in the company of the most attractive, stunning elf.

Astarion seemed to be busy enough not to pay her any attention. And Tav hoped that she didn’t look as horrible with her hair sticking up oddly and pillow lines on her face. She quickly brushed it back and tried to tame it by running her fingers through it.

And then she saw a ghost of smirk on those mocking lips. Oh, he knew what she was doing. And he was laughing at her! That ass. That gorgeous, beautiful bastard! She would show him!

Thus, filled with a strong resolve – that is to show Astarion that he could not have her flustered and stuttering over just a smirk - Tav turned around and rose, stretching her muscles in a feline manner that had ruby eyes following her every move. Astarion’s pupils dilated and his nostrils flared, one fang worrying his lower lip.

“How are you feeling this morning?” He gave his work a quick glance before cutting the thread.

“Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and ready to infiltrate Moonrise Towers, actually.” Tav quickly (but not too quickly!) dressed and went at her hair with a comb.

“Hm, seeing as how little sleep you got last night, I’d thought you would be postponing that little outing of ours.” Astarion delighted in a little squeak she gave as she dropped her comb.

“Well, I’m fine. But if you are too tired to come with us today, perhaps I can ask someone else to accompany me.”

“Someone else? Perish the thought lest you wish to perish!” Astarion rose in one graceful movement, taking a step and then another towards her. “Who can possibly watch your back better than yours truly?”

“No one can,” Tav conceded easily. She felt cool fingers on her waist as Astarion handed her the mended shirt.

“Thank you.”

“Darling, the only thanks I need is you not leaving me behind today,” he gave a breezy, lilting laugh, wondering if acting nonchalant would be enough to convince himself that her answer did not matter to him.

Please, don’t ever leave me behind.

“I wouldn’t.”

Because I’d rather take a chance on you than wonder what could have been had I been braver.

“Wise. Having Gale try his hand at picking locks could only end in disaster.”

I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt.

“Oh, can you imagine! No, we need your magic touch and sneaky ways to make sure we are undetected,” she teased him and his eyes were momentarily drawn to the dimples on her cheeks. He wanted to kiss them, then make his way down the column of her neck, and then lower still until she couldn’t tell him to stop.

They were still holding the shirt, fabric bunching as fingers moved closer. Astarion let go of cloth, hesitant fingertips brushing against warm knuckles as Tav looked at him in a way that he had thought he caught her look at others.

And yet…

Perhaps it was simply a trick of the light. Or his mind playing games with him. Just wishful thinking on his part. But Astarion could not help but think that there was something more between them. Something precious and beautiful that bloomed to life among all the carnage and horror that was his life.

“Tav?” He swallowed nervously.

“Yes?”

“I-”

“Breakfast is ready!”

Saved by Gale, out of all people.

And yet…

Astarion felt a wave of disappointment as he watched Tav quickly put on her shirt, the magic of the moment broken, and they were thrust harshly back into their reality.

And yet…

When Tav took his hand and led him out of the tent, her thumb tracing circles on his cool skin, Astarion wondered if this could be real. If they could be real. Tav put her faith in him, chose to trust a predator with her life. He had thought her a fool. Now, as he looked at how radiant she looked even in these listless, lifeless lands, he wondered if he could summon a fraction of her courage and put his faith in her.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9, @hellethil,

@khywren, @maeryls-journal, @larvasmoon, @xxnashiraxx

(divider by @saradika)

#the kindred collective #bg3 spring cleaning #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #fanfic #astarion fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers #Astarion is bad at feelings #astarion romance #Roguish cat

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bqu1nns · 3 months ago

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this is for @gumbxz because i saw one of their posts saying how they wanted a fanfic with brian quinn paired with the song 'everybody here wants you' by jeff buckley which i thought was. Genius. yesss. i wrote this in like an hour so. its nothing special but i hope you like it bae. i also remembered that i haven't written anything since january so i am a bit rusty and i just came back from a week of working hard on one of my finals. so. bare with me babes. love u all!! and please fill by inbox with requests again, i will be working on my johnny knoxville requests tomorrow, which will hopefully be posted this weekend.

everybody here wants you! ♡ brian q.

part 1! 2288 words ! all fluff

you had come here with friends, but the moment you saw him in the bar, it seemed like everything shifted, narrowing until all that remained was brian. he was leaning against the counter, fingers curled around a sweating glass of whiskey, eyes half-lidded as he listened to something his friend was saying. but then—like some cosmic pull, almost destiny—he looked up right at you. and you, for all your careful walls and well-practiced indifference, felt something unspool inside your chest.

the neon glow of the bar lights flickered over his profile, casting warm amber hues across his beautiful face. then, the smirk. slow and lazy, like he knew that you noticed it too. you blinked, willing yourself to look away, but it was already too late.

he lifted his drink slightly, a silent acknowledgment to you. your fingers tightened. you weren't the type to fall into this—meeting some random guy at a bar, scratch that, you guys haven't even talked, and the possibility of taking him home. but there was something about him, something about the way he looked at you like he knew exactly how this night could go.

“i was starting to think you were just gonna keep staring at me all night,” he said as he moved towards you. you met his eyes, “and here i thought you enjoyed the attention?” you retorted.

his smirk deepened, his ring tapping against the warm glass. “oh, i do.” he took a slow sip, watching you over the rim. “especially when it's from girls i meet at the bar.”

you scoffed. “that a line you use often?” he huffed a small laugh, shaking his head as he set his drink down. “i don't know what you mean by lines.”

you narrowed your eyes slightly. “right. Because you just happen to say things like that on instinct.” he gave a half-shrug, tilting his finger against the bar. “what can i say? im just better at conversation than half the guys here.”

“and yet, somehow, that isn't very convincing.” his smile twitched wider as you said that. “you saying you don’t believe me?”

“i’m saying you have a look about you,” you mused, tilting your head as if you were actually about to consider it. “like you know how to get exactly what you want when you want it.” his gaze flicked over you, slow and assessing before settling back on your eyes. “and what if i do? what if i know what i want? what’s so bad about that?”

you didn't answer right away, you just held his gaze, let the moment settle, let the weight of something unspoken between the two of you simmer. because the thing was—you knew that look. knew the way people must've gravitated towards him, how he probably had conversations like this all the time, he knew how to get his way like the back of his hand, and that made you unsure, but intrigued, to say the least.

but that wasn’t what this was, was it? there was a pull here, something warmer, slower, than what you have ever experienced with guys. you let out a quiet breath, shaking your head slightly. “then i think you’re going to have a hard time with me” you said just loud enough for him to hear over the sounds of the bar.

brian hummed, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his glass as he considered that. “ya think so?”

“oh, i know so.”

he exhaled a laugh through his nose, something rich and warm, and then—without breaking his eyes from you—slid his drink aside and leaned in just a fraction closer. close enough that you could catch the scent of whiskey, the faintest hint of something that you could gather from this stranger that just made him him.

“guess i’ll have to stick around to see, then,” he commented. you could’ve laughed it off. could have turned away, minutes ago, and let this be nothing more than a passing exchange in a dimly lit bar. you could have been one of the hundreds of people he could’ve chosen to flirt with tonight

but you didn't. instead, you just tilted your head, and let the smallest smile ghost the corner of your lips.

“i guess you will.” and now he was looking at you like he wasn't so sure what to do with that. not in a way that suggested hesitation—no, there wasn't anything hesitant about the way brian looked at you. it was more like he was settling into the moment, waiting to see where this could go without forcing it. you then wondered if he was always like this, if his charm was always this effortless, or if it was the whiskey speaking, or both. it could be both, you thought to yourself.

“you don't seem like someone who just hangs around,” you mused. brian quirked a brow. “no?” you shook your head. “you strike me as the type to lose interest quickly, to not call the morning after. if something isn't fun and loose, isn't exciting, you move on.”

his lips pressed together like he was fighting back a smirk like you had caught onto something. but then, after a moment, he tilted his head slightly. “you think i’m here because i’m looking for excitement?”

“well, isn't that the point of the bar, friend?” you said. brian exhaled a small chuckle, running his tongue over his teeth in thought. he didn’t answer right away–just let this gaze sweep over you to what felt like the 10th time tonight. you didn't mind it though.

“maybe,” he admitted, voice softer now. he raised his hands in defense, “not in the way you might think though.” you arched a brow, “no?”

he shook his head, then leaned in just enough for his voice to dip a little lower, the sound curling warm in your chest. “if i wanted something to come to me easily, i wouldn't be standing here still talking to you. i would've gone through maybe 3 girls by now,” he said. he was lying, but he just couldn't resist.

you weren't naive. you knew how this game worked. there was always something just on the edge of moments like this—something that could either dissolve just as quickly as it formed or stretch out, slow and lingering, until you didn't know how you got there until you did just now.

but brian didn't rush. he just waited, watching you, letting the weight of his words settle.

damn him and his stupid look on his face.

if all he wanted was something fleeting, he would have moved on by now. and, quite frankly, you would have done the same.

“you gonna make me work for it?” he said as his fingers idly tapped against the bar top. your lips curled at the edges, “what fun would it be if i didn't make you work for it?” that finally pulled a full laugh from him, low and warm, something that sank underneath your skin in a way you weren't quite ready to admit. he shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“i like you,” he said, voice easy and sure. it was such a simple thing, but it settled in your chest, deeper than it should have. you exhaled slowly, “then i guess you should stick around and see where this goes.”

“yeah, i guess i should,” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours. he was looking at you like he had all the time in the world like he was unbothered by the noise surrounding the two of you, the way people passed and laughed and spilled their conversations into the sweaty air.

like you were the only thing here in this whole damn place worth paying attention to.

“you always do this?” you asked, keeping your voice light despite the way your pulse thrummed loudly at your throat. he raised a brow, chuckling. “do what?”

“this whole thing.” you gestured vaguely between the two of you. “finding someone across a bar, making them feel like they're the only one in the room.” his smile didn't falter, but there was something behind it that was unreadable. “is that how i make you feel?”

you inhaled softly, yes.

because he truly did.

yes, he did.

and the worst part was that you weren't sure he was even trying. you licked your pink lips, looking away briefly as if breaking eye contact could lessen the tension threading through you like a burning fire. “you didn't answer my question.” you said.

brian shook his head slightly. “if i did this all the time, i wouldn't still be here, now would i?” the answer was simple. uncomplicated.

he was still here. and that meant something.

“you ever notice how people always want things that they can't have” you blinked at the sudden shift i conversation. “i mean—” he exhaled, he seemed like he didn't want to admit this. “you ever feel like the more someone pulls away, the more people want them?”

you thought about it. about how some people were like stars—how they seemed untouchable and a thing of wonder in a crowd. meant to be admired but never held. then you thought about brian. the way people watched him when they passed by you two. the way they probably only wanted him in pieces, just enough to say they had him but never enough to know him. never really loved him. and you thought to yourself—maybe he was tired of that.

maybe he was asking if you were going to be the same. you held his gaze, searching for whatever was underneath him, that ease, the way he carried himself when he was with you. “i think people mistake distance for mystery,” you said finally. “they think if they chase something hard enough, it’ll let them in.”

his expression didn't change, “and what about you” he asked. “what about me?”

he tilted his head, mimicking the way you do it each time. “are you the type to chase?”

no, you weren't. you werent the type to beg for someones attention, to run after something fleeting just for the thrill of it. that’s what you say to yourself when you want some peace for the night. and you weren't sure if he expected you to.

so, you just exhaled, slow and measured, before shaking your head. “no,” you simply said. his lips twitched like that was the answer he’d been waiting for. “good,” he murmured, almost relieved.

brian’s fingers tapped idly against his glass, his gaze still fixed on you—not in the way most people stared when they wanted something, all hunger, and urgency. no, this was something else. something slower, something patient.

he was taking his sweet time with you, and he enjoyed that for what felt like the first time he’d ever experienced something like this. he knew he had to keep you.

you wet your lips, glancing down at his hand, the way his fingers curled against the wood of the bar. “why is that a good thing, hmm?” you asked, voice softer now, more curious than challenging.

je huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly, but there was no humor in it. “because i don’t think I’d like it if you did.”

your brows furrowed, not quite understanding him. “if you were the type to chase,” he clarified, his face catching the dim light. “then this wouldn't feel real.” the words hit you and you understood. like brian said, people always wanted things they couldn't have. but brian—maybe he was tired of being a thing to be wanted, something to be reached for but never held.

and you–maybe you didn't want to be another person who tried to take pieces of him just because you had the power to. the bar had faded into nothing by now, just into hums of conversations and distant music. you let out a small breath, “and what do you want this to feel like?” brian considered this. “i don't know just yet,” he admitted. “but i know i don't want it to feel like something normal and casual if that makes sense” he smiled softly.

he was right—this didn't feel like every other night.

you hadn't planned on this. on him. on being drawn to someone in a way that felt like a slow dance. he leaned in, catching the scent of whiskey and something else on him, maybe pine, like late nights and something easy. “i was serious when i said i liked you,” he said. “not in a way people say it just to say it. i mean, i like you.”

it wasn't a line. it wasn't a trick either. it was just the plain and simple truth at this point.

and for some reason, you believed him.

you didn't pull away and instead,

you closed the space between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that felt more like a confession than anything you could have said out loud. it wasn't rushed; it was sweet and slow, almost reverent, as if neither of you wanted to break away, afraid it would slip away like sand through your fingers. his hand found its place on your waist, pulling you just a little closer, his touch tentative but sure. you felt the warmth of him, the scent of him—you found it.

whiskey, pine, and candles ??? he smelt good, that's all that mattered.

he pulled away first, breathless but smiling. “that felt right.” he chuckled as he touched your face. you nodded, still processing the way your heart was running at impossible speeds, the way your world had changed just enough to make everything feel like it had meaning.

“yeah, it really did.”

⊹₊⟡⋆ thank u so much for reading and i hope u liked !!!

#impractical jokers #brian quinn #brian quinn x reader #sal vulcano #the tenderloins #james murray #joe gatto #brian quinn x female reader #brian quinn x female oc #impractical jokers fanfiction #aughhhh dilf

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vagueeyes · 2 months ago

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alright here goes, my in9 journey & self-reflection post.

warning: this is longgg and rambly. and personal.

i'd like to start off by detailing how i got to this point - so here's a timeline!

-the first time i heard of in9 was likely during one of my random wikipedia deep dives. i was definitely one of those people who thought a show called INSIDE NO. 9 was about politics, perhaps something like THE THICK OF IT?

-the first time i actually watched it, was in january 2021. the month before, i had started watching NO MORE JOCKEYS, which was recommended by the TASKMASTER subreddit, shortly after s10 had finished airing. and, well, i basically became obsessed with tim key - he's such a scamp!! after catching up on NMJ and also watching TM s1, i was looking into his filmography and noticed INSIDE NO. 9. from what i read about him, his performance in this was a recommended watch - so i looked online, found the show, and gave SARDINES a go.

-i don't actually remember much about the first watch other than thinking tim was great, and i did go ohhh at the twist.

-since i had nothing else to watch at the time, i also gave A QUIET NIGHT IN and TOM & GERRI a go. the former i remember liking because it appealed to my interest in silent film/comedy. the latter i was really engrossed in, but that final image of migg in the bathtub really haunted me - to the point where i took a break and figured i'd come back to the show when i was ready.

-well. i moved house that summer and promptly forgot to pick it up again.

-around this time i was watching BAKE OFF regularly and always tuned in to the celebrity episodes. when reece was announced as part of the line up, i definitely remember reading people being excited to watch him, because this wasn't something he normally does? i did watch his episode, having known/recognised him from in9, but i don't think i had any particular thought/opinion on him. (oh boy...)

-iirc steve was a guest on wilty in 2022 - this was also a show i regularly watched (and still do, unlike BAKE OFF). very much like reece on BAKE OFF, i tuned in to this episode recognising/knowing steve from in9, but again i did not have any actual opinion on him. the only thing i remember reading were people's comments about one of his anecdotes, saying "anyone who knows anything about steve and reece will know that story about pretending to be dead was true".

-now let's jump to late 2023! i read spoilers on who was going to be on TM s17, and at the time i remember thinking, "ah i recognise steve & john robbins, heard of nick mohammed because of TED LASSO, maybe i know who joanne mcnally is? never seen or heard of sophie willan".

-cut to april 2024 - i tuned in to s17 and basically instantly liked steve. this clever and deeply strange man!! by this time, i had already planned to come to the UK in may for a vacation.

-during my vacation - on may 8 at 9:58pm, i was about to go to bed in my hotel, but i decided to quickly scan the tv guide and happened to see that INSIDE NO. 9 was going to be on in 2 minutes. looking at the episode info, i googled and saw that this was the first episode of the ninth series, and apparently this was their last one! so i quickly decided to tune in to BOO TO A GOOSE.

-i remember my first watch of this ep - delighted to see susan wokoma, whom i loved in TM s16. really loved steve as wilma. funnily enough, was not paying much attention to reece, other than laughing at his funny lines. i had forgotten the show had "twists", so the twist in this one caught me by surprise!

-because i was vacationing for 2 weeks, i decided i would tune in to the next episode the following week. again because of TM, my first watch of THE TROLLEY PROBLEM was mainly thinking "wow steve is so good in this", but part way through, during the bathroom/mirror scene (you know the one), i sort of looked at reece a bit and thought "wait a second..."

-about two weeks after returning home, i decided to check when the last episode was airing, and figured i should catch up on episodes 3 and 4. MULBERRY CLOSE i instantly loved because of the static camera/hitchcock homage, and here is where my reece obsession started to creep up on me. what's really funny is it took me a while to realise who he was in this episode? for the first few minutes i legit thought damon was being played by stephen graham!! anyway, i was drawn in by that gruff but not mean-spirited aspect of the character (does that make sense?), and the way reece played him - i was especially impressed because you don't even really see him for like 80% of the time!

-over the next week following watching this episode, i started to look up reece on youtube (which is what i often do when i want to know more about someone), and saw this video (highly recommend all of misc.mp4's reece/steve/pembersmith vids):

youtube

and hellooo i instantly fell in love. i realise this is a persona and he plays it up, but he's just so funny and like, adorable??

-so then i decided to pick in9 back up from where i left off in 2021 - starting with LAST GASP, whilst waiting for the last two s9 episodes to air. and the rest is history!!

-the order in which i watched was basically: started bingeing in9 > paused at s5 to watch PSYCHOVILLE (whilst reading the wiki i decided i wanted to know the context before getting to DEATH BE NOT PROUD) > tuned in to CURSE OF THE NINTH > finished PSYCHOVILLE and in9 s5 > tuned in to PLODDING ON (you can imagine how many references i missed) > finished in9 and rewatched s9 > watched back the episodes i liked > binged TLOG

in terms of tumblr:

-during my teen years i was on Livejournal and mainly made icons, sometimes did those episode recap posts (featuring screencaps throughout - lmk if you know what i'm talking about!!). when that site went down and tumblr was a place to migrate to, i had a blog for a while in 2011, couldn't figure out what to do with it, deleted, came back a bit in 2014 to do screencaps posts - then i lost access to photoshop CS2, and basically didn't do any blogging or fandom-related stuff for a long time. i attempted to write stuff now and then (mostly "reviews" pfft), but couldn't really commit or keep it going. i always tried to come back to tumblr to do this, but never saw this as a place for text-heavy posts. (oh boy again...)

-one thing that's been constant though, was whenever i became hyperfixated on something (or someone), i always knew there would be people who felt the same & there would be posts about this on tumblr.

-so while i was watching in9, i did look at the sub but it seemed...inactive? then i looked at tumblr and quickly found blogs like @local-blog-for-local-people and basically started regularly checking it.

-and thennn when @in9-character-tournament started coming up in various blogs i was dipping in & out of (i could @ some of you but i don't wanna be a weirdo, or do i?), i thought "well i'd like to get in on this". so i officially created this blog on reece's birthday (LOL this was intentional but also easy to remember in terms of blog anniversaries 😉)!

-however, even then, i was too nervous/scared to really post anything. and i didn't even know what to post about! i got the scriptbooks in september and started reading them, at one point thinking "oh maybe i can talk about this". but what would i talk about? surely everyone knows everything and can articulate it better than i ever could?

-then in december when i read that r&s said they had no plans to record S/F, i panicked a bit. i had counted on them recording it and never even thought of going to see it live. the dates were weird imo and in past experience, winter/early spring might not be a great time to visit the UK, weather-wise. after mulling it over a bit, i checked the tickets website, saw it was nearly sold out, and decided to do some quick planning. the latest possible date & seat/price that seemed to be alright was march 27, 2025. well, i thought, "early spring in the UK could be nice?" i previously planned on coming in may, but decided to move everything up and take the plunge. this seemed like a once in a lifetime chance and i didn't want to miss out!

-when i bought the ticket and got the vacation planning started, a week or two later i saw @unreesonable rb the DEVIL OF CHRISTMAS commentary post where reece tells the story of where "you can almost see the pound signs in his eyes!" comes from. i had rewatched the episode on christmas with the scriptbook out to read along, and i remembered that that line wasn't scripted. so seeing the post i thought, "maybe i could rb and write this in the tags?" and there was the start of my blogging!

-my initial approach was to treat this as a media diary/stream of consciousness process thing, where i'd look up posts related to whatever i had just watched or was thinking about & rb that, putting any thoughts in the tags (and i guess that's what i'm still doing!). i wasn't completely sure i'd ever do "original" posts. at the beginning of the year i had started to read scriptbook 3, and had some ideas of what i could say. @insideno9bracket bracket was a terrific find - i followed what everyone was doing in terms of rb'ing to explain their vote/thought process, and here i feel is where i started to ease myself into the fandom. with @donotbelasagne's first stats post calling for propaganda posts in round 2, i thought, "well hey i can do some of that!"

-often i fluctuated between "should i post this? does anyone care? am i too boring or analytical about this?" and "wait why should i worry! this is my blog and i can do whatever i please, who cares if this gets 0 notes!" and other times i lurched from "please perceive me 🥺" and "oh god i'm being perceived, what do i do now!!"

-during the countdown to S/F i sometimes gave myself anxiety wondering whether i'd meet anyone in the fandom or whether i'd do stage door & what that would be like. in hindsight this was (reece voice/chuckle) ridiculous, given how calm & collected i ended up being on the day/days??

-S/F was not only an experience of seeing reece & steve live, it was also a chance to meet like-minded people irl. this was not something i ever thought i'd do! what's lovely is even meeting people i hadn't really interacted with much online (or even at all), it's like we all became friends the moment we saw each other!

i love how international this fandom is and that we were all brought together through our love of in9 + universe. everyone is so passionate and creative and funny!! i love (and am still a bit surprised) that steve being on tm/s9/S/F is what seemed to get people to create accounts and start blogging!

i feel like this is getting too long so i'll jump to the thanks (keeping it short tbh):

-i'd like to thank @silverview for being my first mutual (did i ever tell you you were?). reading about you meeting up with others in the fandom for S/F, i basically see you as our ambassador lol.

-huge thanks to @wintersoulwitch for running @unreesonable, what a treasure trove of a blog & i love all the digging & digital dumpster diving!!

-thank you to @local-blog-for-local-people, your blog is so organised and long-standing. i love looking through the tags/archive to see what people had posted in the past. (also i'm very flattered to see some of my own posts appear there!) sorry for spamming your activity with likes/rb's - but you know, i WILL keep doing this loll!!

-thank you again to everyone i met on april 5!! you guys are all so nice and beautiful!!! (i'm not @ing again so hopefully some of you see this lol)

and lastly, big big thanks to everyone who has ever read &/or interacted with my posts. S/F might mean the end of my journey in terms of experiencing in9-related things (& extended universe) for the first time, but i am NOT done posting about the show! as ken plume said in his pods with reece (which i highly recommend btw, if you haven't heard them - it's the most "as himself" as i've heard of reece):

ken: but, you know, there's still plenty of people that haven't discovered PSYCHOVILLE and INSIDE NO. 9 and should (reece: yeah, true) - so maybe that's it, maybe it's just building an awareness campaign for the stuff that already exists. reece: yeah. you set me thinking about the fact that it doesn't mean it's the end. it exists for people to find.

it's exciting that S/F is going on tour and that more people will get to see & experience the show. i hope this will bring more newcomers - either draw in people who have never seen in9 or the back catalogue to watch them, or even come to tumblr!

because if anything can harvest or keep a hyperfixation alive, it's tumblr. so i WILL keep posting about the show, reece & steve, the extended universe (whenever possible), until...i dunno, i run out of ideas? but i'm not even done yapping about guillem, and i've barely started on christian henson & yves. and the other directors! louise hooper, al campbell, george kane —

youtube

#in9 #<- not doing the full tags #reece shearsmith #steve pemberton #<- tagging since i do talk about them #this ended up being not soppy? i don't think?#people i've @ed i hope you're ok with it lol #can you believe i spent 3 hours typing this on my phone #and i don't even think the ending + song choice works but that's what i had in my mind soooo #if i forgot anything i'll just tack it on as a reply #pinning for a bit #vagueeyes.pdf

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kathlare · 6 months ago

Text

caught in the silence

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie spends a quiet evening in London with her mother and grandmother, only for an unexpected conversation to reveal long-held family secrets about her relationship with Lando.

Wordcount: 1.6 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

January 30th, 2024 - London, United Kingdom

Victoria sat in the grand living room of her mother's massive London house, the smell of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air. The house, decorated with vintage tapestries and ornate furniture, felt even bigger than it was with the silence of just the two women sitting together. Amelie’s grandmother, Julie, sat across from her, her hair silvery gray, eyes sharp despite her age. The conversation was casual, yet there was a certain weight behind every word spoken between them.

—Amelie and I are doing well,— Victoria said, smiling softly as she sipped her tea. —I’m glad she’s finally found some balance, with work and all. But I do wish she'd be more forthcoming about… things. She's been so secretive lately, hasn't she?—

Julie chuckled softly, her fingers lightly tapping the edge of her teacup. —Ah, Victoria, you know how she is. Always keeping things close to the chest. But I have to admit, I'm glad she's spending more time with me. It's been lovely having her back in London.—

Victoria nodded, the pride in her daughter's progress evident. —Yes, it's been good for her. But there's still something I can't quite put my finger on. Lately, she seems so... distracted. And she's been spending a lot of time here, hasn’t she? More than usual. Almost like she’s hiding something.—

Julie set her teacup down with a knowing smile. —Well, I’ve been meaning to tell you something, Victoria. Something about a certain British young man who has been sneaking around in my house.—

Victoria raised an eyebrow. —What are you talking about?—

—Come on, darling,— Julie said, her smile widening. —You know who I mean. Lando. He's been slipping in and out of this house every chance he gets. I’ve caught him a few times. Not that I'm complaining, of course. But Amelie and Lando? They're very clearly not just ‘friends.’—

Victoria froze for a moment, her thoughts racing. —Lando?— she repeated, her tone less sure now. —No... Amelie wouldn’t...—

—Oh, she would,— Julie interrupted gently. —Believe me, I’m not blind. The way they look at each other... It’s pretty obvious. And you know, I’ve been in this game long enough to know when two people are... more than just friends.—

Victoria's mind immediately went to the past. She remembered the months in 2021 when Amelie and Lando had been inseparable—until they weren’t. The sudden distance between them, the painful quiet. She had watched Amelie struggle with it, but she hadn’t known the full details.

—They were so close back then,— Victoria murmured. —I never understood what happened. I mean, I knew something went wrong, but Amelie never told me.—

Julie gave a little laugh. —Well, I have my suspicions about that, but that’s not the point. What matters is that now, with her back in London, I’ve noticed how they’ve been around each other. She came home from Finland, didn’t she? And that’s when I saw him again. Lando was with her then too, wasn’t he?—

Victoria stiffened slightly. —They were in Finland together?—

—Indeed,— Julie nodded. —I think it’s safe to say that they’ve rekindled their relationship, at least in a more serious way than they’re letting on.—

A silence settled over the room, the weight of Julie’s words hanging between them. Victoria stared into her teacup, her fingers gripping it tighter than she intended. She thought about Amelie, the daughter she had struggled to connect with in the past. Their relationship had gotten better in recent years, but this... this was different. She didn’t know what to think.

—So what now?— Victoria asked, her voice low, though there was no anger behind it, just an undercurrent of concern. —Do I just pretend I I don't know anything? Or do I... confront her?—

Julie leaned back in her chair, a smile tugging at her lips. —Oh, darling, you’ve always been the sensible one. But sometimes, we have to let them make their own choices. You know how Amelie is. She’ll tell you when she’s ready, and if she’s with Lando again, well, it’s not our job to figure it out. Just let it happen in its own time.—

Victoria nodded slowly. —You’re right. I suppose I can’t protect her forever. Especially now, with everything that’s happened before. But I don’t want her hurt again.—

Victoria set the teacup down, her gaze drifting to the window as she let out a sigh. Her thoughts were scattered, torn between the past and present, between understanding her daughter’s choices and her own desires for clarity.

As Victoria’s mind swirled, the sound of footsteps from the hallway snapped her from her thoughts. She turned toward the door just as it opened, revealing Amelie and Lando. The couple was clearly caught off guard to find Victoria and Julie still awake in the kitchen.

Amelie froze in the doorway, her hand instinctively clutching Lando’s arm. Lando, ever the awkward one when caught in moments like these, gave a nervous smile. His heart sank when he saw the look on Victoria’s face—half expectant, half amused.

—Oh, uh... hey, Mum,— Amelie said, trying to sound casual, though her eyes darted nervously to her grandmother and mother. —I didn’t know you two were still up.—

Victoria didn’t immediately respond. She just looked at Amelie, then Lando, her expression unreadable. Julie, on the other hand, gave them a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

—You two didn’t think I’d be awake, did you?— Julie asked with a teasing tone. —Caught red-handed.—

Amelie’s face flushed with embarrassment, and she quickly looked away. Lando, on the other hand, felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He had spent enough time with Amelie’s family to know that things were rarely straightforward when it came to relationships.

Victoria, after a beat, set her teacup down and looked directly at Amelie. —You’re back from your walk already?— she asked, her voice calm but stern. —And here I was, thinking you were getting some fresh air by yourself.—

Amelie let out a nervous laugh, stepping further into the room. —Yeah, well… I, uh, bumped into Lan here,— she gestured toward Lando, who gave a half-hearted shrug.

Victoria raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying the story. —Bumped into him, huh? In the middle of London, at this hour? And with him walking you right back in here? You two are full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?— Her tone was casual, but there was a distinct edge to it, one that made Amelie feel the weight of her mother’s scrutiny.

Amelie was about to respond, but Lando cut in, his voice a bit too loud in the quiet of the room. —Well, you know, we were just out for a walk. Nothing special.— His nervous laugh did nothing to help his case.

Julie’s eyes twinkled as she shot Amelie a look, her voice dripping with humor. —Oh, I’m sure. I mean, it's perfectly normal to be out walking with your “friend” at this hour. But we’re all friends here, aren’t we?— Her emphasis on the word “friend” was impossible to miss.

Amelie’s heart skipped a beat, her face flushing crimson. She knew her grandmother’s teasing tone all too well, but this felt different. She wanted to laugh it off, but something in her chest told her to stay quiet for a moment.

Victoria’s gaze was now fixed on Amelie, her tone shifting to one that was more serious. —I thought you were going to take it easy for a bit, Amelie. You know how much I worry about you. You’ve been acting a bit... distracted lately.—

Amelie’s stomach churned, and she quickly glanced at Lando. She could feel the tension growing. Lando, his usual confidence fading, shifted uncomfortably beside her. He could sense where this conversation was headed, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it. Not like this. Not with Amelie caught between her family’s expectations and the weight of their secret relationship.

Amelie cleared her throat, forcing herself to smile, though it was weak. —Mum, it’s really nothing to worry about. It’s just... Lando and I... we’re... we’re just hanging out. You know, as friends. Nothing serious.—

Lando’s heart dropped at her words. It wasn’t like he was expecting her to announce everything to her family right here and now, but hearing her dismiss their connection like that hurt. He shifted again, his hands in his pockets, his gaze flicking to the floor. He tried to swallow the insecurity creeping up, but it wasn’t working. He’d been here before—hurting her without meaning to, and now it felt like the tables were turning.

Julie, sensing the tension, decided to add some levity to the situation, though it didn’t really ease the air. —You two make a cute couple, though, don’t you think, Victoria? Amelie and Lando? What do you reckon?—

Victoria, despite her best attempt at appearing unaffected, gave a small smile. —They do seem to be quite close again, don’t they? It’s been a while since I’ve seen her like this. Though, Amelie, I’m not sure I believe you. If you’re just “hanging out,” why did I catch you two sneaking around so... cozy with each other?—

Amelie winced. She hadn’t expected it to be this hard, and now, with Lando standing there silently, looking like a lost puppy, it felt worse. She wasn’t sure how to handle the situation.

—Mum, please. I don’t want to talk about this right now. It's complicated.— Her voice shook slightly as she tried to dismiss the conversation.

Lando finally spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. —Maybe it’s better if I just go...— He looked at Amelie, his words laced with uncertainty. He could feel the distance growing between them in that moment.

Amelie, caught in the middle of everything, felt the stab of guilt in her chest. She didn’t want to hurt him, but this situation was spiraling, and she had no idea how to make it stop.

—No, Lando, please stay. It’s just...— Amelie paused, her voice faltering. —It’s just that I don’t know how to tell them about us yet. I’m scared of what they’ll think, okay?—

Lando’s brow furrowed as he met her gaze. —Scared of what? That we’re not “just friends”?— He hated the way his voice sounded, bitter with the hurt he didn’t want to admit. He didn’t want to push her, but he was tired of feeling like a secret.

Amelie opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Her mind was racing. She wanted to tell her mom the truth, tell her how much Lando meant to her now, how much things had changed since their past. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet. Not when there were so many questions swirling in her head.

Finally, she turned to Lando, her voice barely above a whisper. —I think you should go. It’s… it’s better this way. You should leave now.—

Lando’s heart sank at her words. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but hearing her say it like that hit harder than he’d imagined. He gave a small nod, a forced smile on his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He walked past her and toward the door, but not before he glanced back at Amelie. She avoided his gaze, focusing on the floor.

He left, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving an emptiness in the room that was almost tangible.

Amelie didn’t move for a long moment, standing there in silence. The air felt thick with unspoken tension. Finally, she sank into a chair at the kitchen table, her hands gripping the edge as if she needed something solid to hold onto.

Victoria watched her carefully, her expression softening, but still filled with that unshakeable concern. She took a deep breath and walked over to her daughter, sitting down beside her.

—Amelie,— Victoria began gently, her voice softer now. —What is going on with you? I know you’ve been through a lot in the past, but this… I can see how much Lando means to you. I just don’t want you to get hurt again. You were so heartbroken after everything that happened between you two before, and I’m afraid it might happen again.—

Amelie’s chest tightened, the old wounds reopening at the mention of the past. She had tried so hard to bury the pain, to move forward, but hearing her mother speak about it so openly made it feel fresh again. She wanted to explain, to tell her how much Lando had changed, how much they both had grown since then, but the words wouldn’t come. Not when she was still scared.

—Mum, I don’t know what to say,— Amelie admitted, her voice shaky. —I’m just... scared. I don’t want to fall for him again, not if it means getting hurt. I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pain again. And if I tell you everything, I don’t know how Dad will react. Or Callum, or Checo. I just don’t want anyone to get involved until I figure this out.—

Victoria’s expression softened even more, and she reached out, gently placing a hand on Amelie’s. —Sweetheart, you don’t have to figure it all out by yourself. But I get it. I really do. It’s hard to let go of the fear and the past. But you can’t let that stop you from living your life. From being happy, whatever that looks like. And if Lando is part of that, then we’ll figure it out together. We’ll make sure that you’re not hurt again, okay?—

Amelie nodded, her heart feeling both heavy and lighter at the same time. She had never been the type to open up about her feelings easily, especially not when it came to love. But with her mother sitting beside her, offering support, she couldn’t help but feel a little less alone.

—Thank you,— Amelie whispered, finally allowing herself to breathe. —I’m just not sure what to do next. I don’t know if I can tell anyone, not yet. It feels too soon, too complicated. But I do care about him, Mum. I really do. I just... I don’t know if it’s enough. Not yet.—

Victoria smiled gently, squeezing her daughter’s hand. —You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Amelie. You’ll know when it’s time. Just take it one step at a time. And know that no matter what happens, I’m here for you. Always.—

Amelie smiled back, though it was a little shaky. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders, knowing that her mother was there for her, no matter how messy everything felt.

As the conversation slowed down and the night stretched on, Amelie felt a strange sense of calm settle over her. The uncertainty about her relationship with Lando was still there, and the fear of repeating the mistakes of the past loomed large. But for the first time in a while, she felt like maybe, just maybe, things might be okay. That perhaps, in time, she could figure it all out.

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kimerawrt · 1 month ago

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Dannymay 2025, meowing in ghost

1990s (AO3)

“Ugh!” Danny flopped face first into his bed while grumbling like a pissed off cat.

“Oh, come on dude! It's not that bad” Tucker tried to cheer up his friend.

“Give up Tucker, Danny is just like that because Lancer didn't let him write about the Hubble telescope” Sam droned in a very boring tone while claiming Danny’s chair as her own.

The three friends had decided to hang out in Danny’s room after school. They would have started to play video games but a last warning from Mr. Lancer about the date to hand over their essays, that was next class,made them remember the homework they didn't do because of being busy ghost hunting.

“But what will I write about?” Danny grumbled against his blankets, “what else was interesting in the 90s?”

“The Soviet Union fell” Sam was clear in what she would write. Already, she was looking for information on her phone.

“What do you mean what's interesting?! The boom of the internet dude! The best invention ever!” Tucker seemed very excited about that topic.

“Ugh…” Danny grumbled even louder. Mr. Lancer had not let him write about the space telescope because the half ghost had already done an essay in it before and he would only copy and paste his own work.

“Come one Danny, just look in the wonderful place that its the internet and find another thing that happened in the 90s” Tucker tried to make his friend move from his bed by poking his side.

“But the Hubble…” Danny whined. He was really disappointed at not being able to work on that topic and ramble about space.

“Find another thing” Sam deadpanned without mercy.

“Nooo…” Danny was not having a good time.

Not wanting to hear what his friends’ opinions on the paper were anymore, the half ghost transformed into his ghost form. Hoping that the randomness of his cat forms would bring him some kind of inspiration.

When the light receded, in the bed there was a white cat with a strange pattern of black squares in his back. Otherwise, it looked like a normal non-ghostly cat.

“I don’t think black and white things were an issue back there” Tucker said. His mind focused on when color television was invented.

“Wait, is that a QR code?” Sam asked after staring at the cat’s back for a minute.

“Danny, QRs did not exist in the 90s” Tucker said.

“Hisss” Danny was not happy with either his friends nor his form.

“Don't be a baby and stay still” Sam used her phone to see if there was anything useful in this random form.

Danny grumbled but stayed still. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing to have a QR code in his back. Maybe it would give him an idea for his essay. Maybe it would be something about space that he had overlooked. Unlikely, but stranger things had happened before.

“Huh… interesting” Sam mumbled while looking at her phone.

“Nya?” Danny turned around to see his friend. Hope filling his eyes.

“What is it?” Tucker was curious as well.

“It's a Russian blog about seafood” Sam said. She noticed that it was created the 1st of January of 1990, but didn’t comment on it.

Danny licked his lips. Now that he was thinking about it, he was hungry. He could eat a fish or two.

“That's interesting. Are you hungry dude? We could go get some fish sticks at the Nasty Burger and drown them in the Nasty Sauce. Maybe that way you will get an idea” Tucker proposed, not a solution, but a way to get one.

“Better than nothing” Sam shrugged and got up from the chair. She could go for a salad right now.

“Meow!” Danny nodded and jumped to Tucker’s shoulder.

“But you gotta be a human dude. I won't feed you fish like last time” Tucker warned his friend. He was not going to be called ‘cat weirdo' for a week again.

Danny just rolled his eyes while continuing to use the techno-geek as a transport method. He will change later. Maybe.

#danny phantom #dannymay2025

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muzaktomyears · 10 months ago

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George Harrison and Paul McCartney interviewed about Bob Dylan and the Beatles by MOJO magazine in 1993, including extracts from John Lennon being interviewed about Dylan in 1979:

GEORGE HARRISON

Do you remember Dylan at The Albert Hall?

Oh yeah, I was there. I remember it a lot. First of all you had him saying, You remember this song? This is how it used to go and this is how it goes now! But the thing I remember most about it was all these people who'd never heard of folk until Bob Dylan came around and two years later they're staunch folk fans and they're walking out on him when he was playing the electric songs. Which is so stupid. But he actually played rock'n'roll before. Nobody knew that at the time, but Bob had been in Bobby Vee's band as the piano player and he'd played rock'n'roll. And then he became Bob Dylan the Folk Singer so, for him, it was just returning back. And maybe The Beatles - well, not just The Beatles but the whole wave of rock'n'roll that happened again in the '60s - spurred him on into wanting to get back into the electric guitar.

Was there a degree of Beatles/Dylan mutual envy at that time?

Well, he got a little bit of pleasure out of us and we got a lot of pleasure out of him. But you know everybody starts out being slightly grungey, rebels against the world, we were like that too. You know the famous Beatles story: we cleaned up our act a bit because Brian Epstein could get us more work if we had suits. By the time Bob came along it was like, Yeah, we all want to be more funky again, and please put a little more balls into the lyric of the song. There's a funny thing that I don't think anybody else has noticed and that is when John wrote Norwegian Wood, it was obviously a very Bob Dylan song, and right after that Bob's album came out and it had a song called 4th Time Around. You want to check out the tune of that - it's the same song going round and round.

You were very consciously listening to each other?

Well I can't speak for him but we were listening. I think it was his second album we heard first in February or January of '64 and we were in Paris at The Olympia Theatre and we got a copy of Freewheelin' and we just played it, just wore it out. The content of the song lyrics and just the attitude - it was just incredibly original and wonderful, you know.

Did you meet him in '66?

I met him every time. I felt a bit sad for him because he was a bit wasted at that time. He'd been on a world tour and he looked like he'd been on a world tour. He looked like he needed a rest and that was the time he went back home and fell off his bike and almost broke his neck. So...

PAUL MCCARTNEY

What sort of shape was he in? He was just winding up a world tour...

He was pretty wasted. There were a couple of times I went to hotels - one was the Mayfair, I can't remember the other one. But he didn't appear much more wasted than anyone else - you know, we kept up with him! We all sort of lay around together; it wasn't the kind of scene where you had to say anything enlightening.

So it was pretty much Dylan holding court.

Oh it was, very much. It was a little bit An Audience with Dylan in those days: you went round to the Mayfair Hotel and waited in an outer room, while Bob was, you know, in the other room, in the bedroom, and we were getting ushered in one by one. I know Keith was there. And Brian.

Didn't you feel you both had to perform?

No, not really. I was just quite happy to pay homage. The only trouble really was that occasionally people would come out and say, you know, Bob's taking a nap or make terrible excuses, and I'd say, It's OK man, I understand, he'd out of it, you know. And they were a bit guarding, like the Pope's men at The Vatican. He can't see you just now...

Didn't he come round and play you an acetate of Blonde On Blonde? Or you played him an acetate of Revolver?

No, I played him some stuff off Pepper later. And I'd brought it on acetate or a tape of Pepper...

It must have been Revolver. This was '66.

I'm pretty sure it was Pepper 'cos I remember him saying, Oh I get it, you don't want to be cute any more. And I was saying, Yeah, that's it. We really admired him. I'd known his stuff as long as I'd known Ray Charles's, so he was a big hero of ours. He was very keen on I Wanna Hold Your hand - he'd thought the middle eight, "I can't hide, I can't hide" was "I get high, I get high" and was rather amused by that. And we were amused that he was amused. Then we eventually met him in New York, one of the big hotels there, he came round with his road manager who was a nice bloke. Al Aronowitz was there, a kind of mate of ours, Dylan, his road manager and a few other people showed up. And they brought along with some illegal substances of which we partook and had... quite a wild night.

What happened?

Well, I was wandering around looking for a pencil because I discovered the meaning of life that evening and I wanted to get it down on a bit of paper. And I went into a little room and wrote it all down, 'cos I figured that, coming from Liverpool, this was all very exotic and i had to let my ordinary people know, you know, what this was all about: like if you find the meaning of life you've got to kind of put it about! Mal handed me the little bit of paper the next morning after the party and on it was written, in very scrawly handwriting: THERE ARE SEVEN LEVELS. Till ten we'd been sort of hard scotch and coke men. It sort of changed that evening.

In '66 it seemed as though you almost wanted to change places: Dylan was the mystic folk prophet who wanted to be a pop star; The Beatles were the pop stars who wanted to go underground. Was there a kind of mutual envy?

None whatsoever, no. I think it was mutual admiration, certainly from our side there was admiration. I mean to this day... I just met him at the airport about a year ago and he just kind of shambles up and says, Hey Paul, y'alright man, and we give each other a big hug. I was in Heathrow and he was. He had an anorak on and had the hood pulled up. He was really like a kind of bagman, you know. And he just kind of shambled up to me, Hey Paul, alright man.

He seemed very attracted at that time by the idea of being a pop star, the suits, the screaming women...

Well I think he found something attractive about that. I don't really think it changed his stuff an awful lot. I don't know, there might have been some feeling that it was time for him to get off the street and into the hotel or something. I don't know.

That was the time when your music had the most in common, Revolver and Blonde On Blonde. You almost crossed over at that point.

Well, he influenced us and a lot of people. He influenced the Stones. Sympathy For The Devil is very Dylan, just the endless lyrics. I remember us being round at John's house at Weybridge, when I went round to write once, and he'd just got Like A Rolling Stone and we put it on and it seemed to go on and on forever. It was just beautiful. I don't know if he aspired to that showbiz thing you were saying but he showed us all that it was possible to go a little further. But the nice thing about Dylan for me was that he brought back poetry. We'd come from that student scene, 'cos we'd all started as students, you know - I was a kind of sixth form layabout, John was at the art school next door - and we'd started out with things rather like poetry readings in Liverpool. Hamburg was a student scene. There were kids in Hamburg who called themselves The Exies - The Existentialists - and wore a lot of black; Astrid and Jorgen and Klaus, they figured they were Exies. That was one of the sad things about The Beatles: we got so huge that that kind of student thing got cut short, but Dylan reintroduced that into all our lives. I always thought of Dylan as a poet first - him and Allen Ginsberg holding up signs, all very hand-held camera from New York, all very enigmatic.

You were never in awe of each other?

Oh he wasn't in awe of us. He just liked "I get high." As the guy who introduced us to smoking dope he just thought it was hilarious! I always like those sort of things, it's like Jake Riviera thinking "living is easy with eyes closed" was "living is easy with nice clothes". They're always better, those adaptations. But John was probably the most influenced. And George is one of those guys who can quote all Dylan's lyrics. There's always a lyric for an apt situation: George goes, Oh well! Remember! The pumps don't work 'cos the vandals took the handles! George knows the whole works of Dylan. But I think John was the most influenced in the vocal style. Certainly You've Got To Hide Your Love Away is a direct Dylan copy, it's like an impression of Dylan, Yeeew've got to hayed... that lerv ay-wayyy. Just saying ay-wayyy, rather than away...

Did John ever mention that car ride with Dylan which was filmed for Eat The Document?

Mmm?

You know, when the two of them got driven around Hyde Park with Pennebaker filming them?

Well he might have but not at length. We didn't really chat about that too much. I know he was very keen on Dylan.

There's a great bit in the film, when he's in the car with Dylan and it's five in the morning, and Dylan's drunk and completely out of it and threatening to throw up and John says: Do you suffer from sore eyes, groovy forehead or curly hair? Take Zimdon!

Zimdon! Ha ha ha. Zimdon! Well that's nice stuff, but he turned on the whole Zimmerman bit and made a lot of fun of Bob later.

When do you mean?

Later, you know. I got a feeling...

He recorded those Dylan parodies in the '70s, didn't he? [There are tapes of three of them - Serve Yourself, an acid response to Dylan's You've Got To Serve Somebody, the equally self-explanatory Mama Take This Make-Up Offa Me, and a spontaneous moulding of the live TV news into Stuck Inside of Lexicon With The Roget's Thesaurus Blues Again.]

He did. He always had a go at people, John. That was really part of his charm. He was ballsy enough to have a go at you, you know, then he'd lower his little glasses, look at you over the top of them and say, It's only me! John was the mouth. He was a lovely boy but he did shoot his mouth off. Quite often.

Why did he have a go at Bob?

I think he was quite disappointed that his name wasn't Dylan. Finding out that it was a Jewish name that he'd changed I think he felt a bit betrayed. I remember him making quite a stink about that.

But he must have known that from the start.

I'm not sure we did. No. I think we sort of found all that out later. He had a go at everyone then. Including, probably most of all himself. That's who the real go was at. You know, to understand John you had to sort of look at his past. The father leaving home when he was three. Being brought up by his aunt. And his mother, you know. It's extraordinary he made it to the age he made it to. So John had a mighty chip on his shoulder - we all did to some extent. John could say to you, Fuck off yer twat. Then he'd just go, Only kidding! You had to accept that he could swing both ways.

Why did he feel so let down by Dylan?

He loved Dylan so much. He did feel a little let down. John was like that. John like gurus. John was always looking for a guru. When he introduced Magic Alex who was just some Greek guy who was a bit of an expert in electronics. And I remember John coming round to my house and saying (mystic voice) This is my new guru, Magic Alex. And you had to sort of smile a little and go, OK well that's cool, Wow, knowing that this may not last. But... John had found a guru.

Was it the same with Dylan? You know, he wanted to sit at his feet?

Yeah. I think he did worship Dylan to some degree. He was certainly the big one. There was Elvis before that... but Elvis was a different kettle of fish. Elvis was going to shop us on the Nixon Tapes. That's another story...

I want to hear it!

You know those Nixon Tapes that he kept rolling all the time? There's a set of tapes were Elvis is trying to shop The Beatles. (Courteous Southern accent) "You know, Sir, They're very un-American! I believe they smoke drugs!" Elvis! Telling Nixon! He's trying to get made a marshal, trying to get made a US marshal.

Have you heard this tape?

No, I've just seen a transcript of it. It's quite wild. 'Cos Elvis is ryng to shop us. No doubt about it. Definite bad move, El!

That's hysterical!

It is, it's wild! You've got to laugh. But as I say, I think to John these people were great heroes and he found out a little later they were only human. Think about the Maharishi. We all went off with this guru and John got very let down and wrote Sexy Sadie. He was always doing that, he was always having an idol and seeing it knocked down. If you think about it it's probably very symbolic of his whole life, the father figure. Yoko in a way was a father figure. Hate to say it. But John always required that. Complex boy. He was a lovely boy but, perhaps, you know... idols with feet of clay. John always wanted people to be magic and, you know, we're all human.

What did he see in Dylan?

Inspiration, maybe. I don't know. Maybe that he allowed us to go further. He allowed the Stones to go further, then we did Pepper and we allowed everyone else to go further, It was like boots walking... we'd take a step, Dylan'd take a step, Stones'd take a step, we'd take another step, John'd take a step. I'd take a step, I'd do Why Don't We Do It In The Road?, John'd go, Fuck, I wish I'd written that...

Which of John's songs would you like to have written?

John's? Oh... if forced on the point I'd have to say, Help, Imagine, Strawberry Fields. But it doesn't matter, all in all, here we are, born, die, and on the way stuff happens. John did some magic stuff, Dylan did, Stones did, all of us have from time to time. I remember Dylan defending one of his loose vocals - some critic somewhere - by saying, (nasal whine) "Listen man there's an A in there somewhere! It goes from A flat to B flat but it goes through an A. Every note's in tune!" You know, there is an A in the middle of it somewhere but he just chooses to go around it. Great! Rules are meant to be broken.

So do you think he's deliberately 'deconstructing the myth'? How many opportunities has he had to reach a larger audience - Farm Aid, he was the final act of Live Aid, The 30 Year Tribute concert? The last two were absolutely appalling.

I think he does it on purpose, you know. He does it on purpose. I know someone played with him in one of his latest bands - G.E. Smith, New York guy - and I said, How is it, man? And he said Oh great! He said, We'd come up to him after a show and say, Fantastic man, Tambourine Man went down so beautifully, and then he wouldn't do it for two weeks! But I can see that...

Keep a good head and always carry a light bulb!

Yeah, it was nice, all that stuff. But the only pity really is that it's all closed up, like Moses passing through the waters, the Red Sea. We all got through it all, it tended to close up when everyone's got through it. Now it's re-opening a little bit. The modern scene's getting a little crazier again, but it's all a little bit corporate now. Very corporate. Sickeningly so. And you know it wasn't that way before. And he was one of the catalysts in the whole movement.

JOHN LENNON

Extracts from interviews broadcast in 1979 on New York's 1027WENW radio in The Lost Lennon Tapes (interviews by Jonathan Cott, David Shepp and Jann Wenner).

You first heard Dylan on a visit to Paris in 1963?

I think that was the first time I heard him at all. I think Paul got the record (Freewheelin') from a French DJ. We were doing a radio thing there and the guy had the record in the studio and we took it back to the hotel and (gauche accent) fell in luv, like!

Do you still see Dylan as a primary influence on your writing?

No, no. I see him as another poet, you know, or as competition. Just read my books which were written before I'd heard of Dylan or read Dylan or even heard of anybody. It's the same, you know. I didn't come after Elvis and Dylan, I've been around always. But it I see or meet a great artist, I love 'em, you know. I just love 'em. I go fanatical about them - for a short period. And then I get over it! And it they wear green socks, I'm liable to wear green socks for a period, you know.

You've Got To Hide Your Love Away and I'm A Loser?

Yeah, that's me in my Dylan period, 'cos that's got the word 'clown' in it. I always objected to the word 'clown' - or clown image that Bowie was using 'cos that was always artsy-fartsy - but Dylan had used it so I thought it was all right and it rhymed with whatever I was doing. So that was my Dylan period.

So you were saying, If Dylan can go it I can do it?

No, I'm just influenced by whatever's going on. It's the same as if Elvis can do it, I can do it. If the Everly Brothers can do it, me and Paul can do it. If Goffin and King can do it, Paul and I can do it. If Buddy Holly can do it, I can do it. Whatever it is, I can do it!

How would you characterise your relationship with Dylan?

Whenever we used to meet it was always under the most nerve-wracking circumstances. And I know I was always uptight, and I know Bobby was. And people like Al Aronowitz would try and bring us together. And we were together and we'd spend some time but I always used to be too paranoid or I'd be aggressive or something and vice versa. He'd come to my house - can you imagine it? This bourgeois home life I was leading? - and I used to go to his hotel. And I loved him, you know, because he wrote beautiful stuff. I used to love those so-called protest things. I loved the sound of him. I didn't have to listen to his words. He used to come with his acetates and say, Listen to this John, did you hear the words? And I'd say, It doesn't matter, you know, the sound if what counts, the overall thing. You don't have to hear what Bob Dylan says, you just have to hear the way he says it. Like, the medium it the message.

Your appearance in Eat The Document was a little edgy.

I've never seen it! I'm in it, you know! Frightened as hell, you know! I was always so paranoid. He said, I want you to be in this film and I thought, Why? What? He's going to put me down! It's gonna be... you know and I went all through this terrible thing. So in the film I'm just blabbin' off, just commenting all the time like you do when you're very high and stoned. But it was his scene, you know, that was the problem for me. It was his movie. I was on his territory. That's why I was nervous, you know. I was on his session.

MOJO (November 1993)

#bob dylan #the beatles #george harrison #paul mccartney #WHERE IS RINGO #john lennon #bob&george #also:#john&paul #because there's a lot of john in the paul interview (of course)#yoko in a way was a father figure #the interviewer telling paul john's joke and paul loving it #a lovely boy #a complex boy

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royal-ruin · 1 year ago

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f1 fanfic recs charles/carlos (charlos) part 4

other f1 fic rec lists here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise

in honor of carlos' win in the ausgp and his appendix removal (and his last year at ferrari, ignore me sobbing in the background), here are some of my fav fics of them.

if all of them are starred that just means they're all amazing.

i'll make you laugh by venerat (~7k)

[“You are cute,” says Carlos, waving his marker in emphasis. “Obviously. I am always saying this.”

“I am not cute.” Charles blinks at him. “When are you saying I am cute?”]

literally so adorable.

*what we felt by venerat (~14k)

[Imprinted, Charles should say, shocked. I hope he is alright. He should say that.

“My god,” he says instead. “On who?”]

so creative and amazing. def check out this author for more of other pairings, i know they have a bunch of hot smutty one-shots if you're into that.

*sweet tea in the summer by bloodmoonforme (~10k)

[Sometimes, when they first arrive at the circuit for a weekend, Charles will look decidedly paler, a little drawn. Then, he'll show up for FP1 on Friday seemingly much better all of the sudden, eyes unnaturally bright and cheeks red - that's how to tell how long it has been since he last drank.

Not that Carlos notices. Or keeps track of it, for that matter.

Except he does.]

Or the one where Charles is a vampire and Carlos struggles.

i don't remember this unfortunately, but i do remember loving it.

*the actor says he hates himself by bloodmoonforme (~5k)

[“You okay, mate?” Carlos asks, pitching his voice a bit louder in order to be heard over the music.

Charles doesn’t answer. Slowly, Carlos realizes that the way Charles is staring is one that he recognizes. It’s the same way he looks while he’s out racing, the same one he wears in the simulator. It’s a look of total focus. There’s something Charles wants and means to have.]

tags say that there's cheating so if you don't like that, don't read.

*dice che ti ama (ma lo sai che mente) by choripan (~3k)

[But Charles smiled, dimples out and about, back against the wall of Carlos’ driver’s room. Like he knew he wasn’t in danger.

Like he hadn’t entered a lions’ den looking like a three course meal.

(Like he knew Carlos was all bark and no bite, and toying with the metaphorical rubber band —stretch, stretch, stretching—wouldn’t ever make it snap into his straight nose.)]

kinda like a carlos-focused relationship study. it lowkey altered my brain chemistry for some reason

punctuated all wrong by Cloudcollector (~8k)

Prompt: "I don’t know if someone else agrees with me but I’m a sucker for the whole person A falls in love with person B but they think they don’t deserve person B’s love trope and I’d love to see how it would play out with charlos (not saying who’s person A and who person B, even though that should be pretty obvious)"

*the trials of 2022 by chiliconcarlos (~34k)

A partial summary of the 2022 season, as told by Charles or Carlos, following each race.

Friday is Just the Beginning by nottonyharrison (~3k)

On a Thursday in December, Caco had come to him with a proposal. A PDF attached to an email, emblazoned with the garish red Netflix logo, and consisting of a three paragraph, succinct concept that involved winter training, the mountains, and Carlos timing his schedule to overlap with Charles’ for a week.

On a Friday in January, he’s sitting in a private sauna long after the cameras have been packed away for the night, with Charles right next to him.

this is basically plot w porn, with a lot of carlos inner monologue which i love so enjoy!

Don't Do This To Me by pastrnaks_sainz (~2k)

[Carlos hands shake as he stares at his phone screen. The email from Caco is displayed and the brightness is turned all the way up. Like he’s being taunted. The big bold letters in the subject line might as well be saying ‘NOBODY WANTS YOU’ instead of ‘New Opportunities Ahead’.]

fair warning, one of the tags is hurt no comfort.

Loose Lips Sink Ships by kxleida (~2k)

Carlos finds out he's leaving Ferrari. Charles finds him in his hotel room, beer bottles scattered all across. They both know it's not fair.

A bit of hurt/comfort surrounding Charles, Carlos, and the Ferrari announcement for the F1 2024 silly season.

this isn't everything you are by shadil (~2k)

The news hit him again where he least expects it.

a prayer for which no words exist by transbrucewayne (~3k)

Charles has to assume Carlos knows by now; they should’ve told him. He doesn’t know how long they took to tell Sebastian, but it had been almost inevitable for him. He walked into the 2020 season with an air of resignation. With Carlos…everyone thought he was going to get another year, at least. Charles thought he was going to get another year. Then, Carlos would move to Audi, to the surprise of approximately no one, and the two of them would part, and Charles would spend the rest of his career smiling at him across the room, fist bumping him in press conferences, and never touching him more than the others deemed appropriate.

i know better (but you're still around) by shadil (~2k)

Sometimes, Carlos dreams about María.

He was his (but also he was not) by f1amboyant (~2k)

[Charles crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you leaving?” he asked, no bullshit, staring straight at Carlos, peering into his soul.]

Shadowhunters AU

and the world was gone by Bluejay141519 (~12k)

It’s not entirely unfounded, having something like this happen. Charles knows of various stories of the past, where different drivers’ energies don’t mix well and it causes chaos. He’s even heard of magic being used to sabotage in F1.

Charles always thought these were just stories, until he got his seat.

tbh it's not completely relationship focused, but it's still amazing.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic rec #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #charles x carlos #carlos x charles #cl16 #cs55 #fic rec list

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my-castles-crumbling · 2 months ago

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Anon Advice Asks - April 18

give up anon (new), 🍋 anon, new relationship anon (new), pg anon, thumbs down anon (new), the anon, grounded anon, functioning anon (new)

give up anon

I don’t really know what to do anymore. My life just feels bad all the time and I’m almost never happy.

(The rest is redacted)

Hi <3

I know it feels absolutely awful to feel like this. I've been there, and it's like...indescribable. But please know that it does get better and the important thing is to be gentle with yourself. Do small things to take care of yourself, and remember that you are worthy of love. Remember that doing anything - taking a shower, going on a walk, finishing a small task - is better than nothing. And, if you're able to, finding a therapist might really help

Sending love!

__________

🍋 anon

Hi it’s 🍋 anon. I FINALLY made a new art account and I’ve started posting. It feels good but omg the pressure. I do want to DM you maybe once I get a little more comfortable I will. Also would to have ideas for what to draw . I’m so thankful to you. I’ve been trying really hard to like my art now after changing my style since I’m trying to be different than what I used to be before and it’s hard, but I’m getting there I think. I think I’m slowly getting there I think and hopefully I’ll soon be able to take commissions and be a great artist 😭😭😭😭

(I would love any encouragement, I do tend to be very self critical) Also if you happen to find me naturally I would love that. It’s a Wolfstar fanart that I’ve posted. But it’s ok if you don’t. Sorry for rambling.

Hi! I'm so glad you're posting art again! You should definitely DM me, I'd love to see it! Congrats on the new account!!

___

new relationship anon

Heyy. So, help?

So I am openly trans, and my partner is straight, and it's a new relationship, too recent.

And since I am openly trans, (I have been in pride, I am in lgbtqia club in uni, have been going to doctor regularly, etc.) I thought he knew when we first met. Because like, we met at a pride-like celebration ( in January, it was kinda new year for gays? It is almost the same as pride believe me). He said he came to support his sister (lesbian) and such. We talked there. I didn't had a noticeable flag on me, my nails painted in trans flag colors and my outfit in those colors too but not a flag directly.

Anyway we exchanged numbers, we talked, we talked more, hangout, after about 3 months we started dating at 1 April (bad date to start dating I guess?)

And now, after 15 days, I realized he doesn't know I am..trans? Like. Is he blind.

Blond technically

Anyway, but like, right now I am stressing out because I thought he knew? I have plenty of things around me that screams trans and he doesn't know I guess? What if he doesn't want to date me anymore this is new I don't want to ruin it- I wanted this to be something that lasts..

How do I say him? He is straight, what if he doesn't like me.

Fuck, cas, I am gonna cry

hi!

I mean so...I don't think hiding it is going to go well, in this situation. Like, he's going to find out eventually, you know? And really, why date him if he doesn't like you for who you are?

I think it's just thinking about HOW to tell him? Do you feel safe telling him in person or should it be over text? Should you have someone with you if you tell him irl? I know it's bad to think about, but I've heard stories of trans people getting bad reactions when coming out, and you want to make sure to stay safe.

I mean, I'd hope that he knows. Or at LEAST is supportive, given that you met a a pride event and he supports his sister. But yeah, I'd be like "hey, I wanted to make sure you know..." and go from there.

But remember that if he has a bad reaction, it's NOT a reflection on you or your worth. You deserve love <3

___

pg anon

for friends: I genuinely don't think you can do anything else. all you can do is be there for them as much as your mental health allows. from what you're saying, you've literally done anything I can think of, so the important thing is to just be there, listen, and give them love. But also remember it's okay to step away when you need it. You can't help anyone if you're not feeling well.

dizzy: it's....mildly concerning the doctors aren't doing more about this. Like...what's causing the low iron? It sounds super frustrating, but also I'd ask more questions. push them to actually do their jobs, you know?

friend w cancer: I can't say much to this other than that sounds so overwhelming and I'm sending hugs <3

coming out: I mean if you don't want to do a whole coming out thing, could you just say 'btw, I'm dating x' and leave it at that? And if they ask about sexuality/labels say you don't want to talk about it? That way they're aware, but it's more of a casual thing. Or do they know about your boyfriend?

Your positives made me smile!

thumbs down anon

I've been a lesbian for the past five-ish years and since I figured it all out I've been really secure. But recently there's been this one guy and I've just been really confused. I've questioned my sexuality a few times but always in a passing conforming to the expectations of my extended family kind of way and just the thought of daring a man would make me feel off. But that's not really the case here and I'm just lost I guess. I'm not really too invested in labeling or figuring out this new thing anytime soon because quite frankly, I'm not sure I like him back. I feel like I do but I struggle sometimes to tell platonic and romantic feelings apart. And beyond that, I am terrified of commitment. Ans unfortunately I don't know him too well. I've known him technically for four years but not until the last week did we talk. I did tall to him about it but I really don't know how to process any of this. One one hand I feel like I'm betraying myself (for sure due to my fear of change) but at the same time I know I'm not. All in all, feelings are weird and I'm not a fan👎

Hi!

I, too, am not a fan of feelings lol

I mean if he's aware of your conflicting feelings and he's chill with it and you're also comfortable, maybe you could just...explore your feelings? Hang out with him and see what happens naturally? It's okay to explore feelings without knowing exactly what will happen, as long as everyone's comfortable and no boundaries are broken. It's also okay to not tell people until you're ready. It's also okay do decide you don't want to explore this! Honestly, whatever feels right to you (again, as long as everyone's comfortable and boundaries aren't broken).

the anon

heyyy, it’s the anon!! Been awhile since I popped in, nuh? (Like nearly 6 weeks, damn)

Anygays- I’ve got words to speak and such (obvi, why else would I be here?)

So, I’ve been doing better at setting up boundaries with my partner. It’s been a slow struggle, but I have begun doing so.

There is one caveat to all this

Let me preface this by saying I’m in a special program for school (Idk if I’ve menti9ned it before, but yeah. Special program)

My partner has been missing so much school that they’re transferring to online instead of in person. Sad part? I feel way more comfortable at that thought. I kinda feel like a horrible partner because of how I feel about it. And it’s not even cuz I know it’ll help them, it’s because I know that I don’t have to put on as much of a mask during school.

I don’t get it, I don’t really know what to think.

Ignoring the negative/advice seeking part of my ask, I do have good news!! I made a friend à few months back, but just started talking to him more frequently. And guess what?? I managed to get him into Marauders. He literally stayed up all night to learn all about it.

So far his fav marauder is Remus, kin is regulus, and overall his fav ship is wolfstar

(I also got a very ‘angry’ text from him saying “WHY DIDNT YOU TELL MY BARTY’S NAME WAS BARTHOLOMEW” obvi, Barty’s name isn’t bartholomew its Bartemus or however the hell you spell it. But it was funny)

Hi!

I don't think you should feel guilty for your feelings. Sometimes spaces is what people need to sort their feelings out, you know? I'm glad you're working on boundaries, it a difficult thing! Remember that your partner's reaction to your boundaries is also a key sign.

Omg Barty's name being Bartolomeu would be awful.

___

grounded anon

hi! I answered your ask right here :) God, what your mom said is so messed up and disgusting though, that's infuriating. I hope you know how wrong she is.

___

functioning anon

hi cas. do you have any advice on how to start actually living, like being a functioning human being, instead of letting your mind float through brainrot and just generally hating existance?

idk if you'll get it but i'm just feeling very dead rn.

I totally get this. For me, making to do lists of little things I need to do to take care of myself (brush teeth, take a shower, eat) and then crossing them off is super motivating and helps me get out of bed on those days. Maybe that could help?

#give up anon #🍋 anon #new relationship anon #pg anon #thumbs down anon #the anon #grounded anon #functioning anon #asks #ask #ask cas

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jfleamont · 1 year ago

Note

Hey for your jily muse, out of order <3

Okay this is unforgivable, I know. You sent this prompt over two months ago. TWO. This ask has been sitting in my inbox since the 18th of January, so you probably won't even remember sending this but I promise you I've been thinking about it constantly and waiting to have free time to work on it and I have this tendency to leave things unfinished so this is me working through that as well lol

Without further ado, here it is ❤️

Out of Order - 744 words

Evans is in the boys' bathroom. She's in the boys' bathroom and she's crying.

One of her hands is gripping the sink, while the other fruitlessly wipes the tears that keep escaping.

She hasn't noticed his arrival, and Sirius doesn't bother clearing his throat. “I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason for this.”

She makes a startled noise and turns to face him, her expression a mixture of anger and sadness. It's comical, really, so Sirius laughs.

“There is,” she mutters as she wipes her nose with the sleeve of her jumper. Her voice lacks the edge she usually aims at him— and at James, too, though Sirius can't help but notice a slight difference there.

He walks towards her and hands her his monogrammed tissue - he's never used it for this purpose specifically, but it has proved to be useful during the occasional prank or after a rough full moon - which she grabs immediately. She doesn't thank him, but he doesn't expect her to.

“Ah well, that's all I needed to know. It's not like you're invading my personal space or something.”

She lifts an eyebrow and eyes him curiously, looking more like her usual self. “I'm sorry, is there a plaque or an inscription that I haven't noticed? Does House Black monogram bathrooms as well as tissues?”

“Not that I'm aware of, no. Don't give my mother ideas, though, she might actually try to do that.”

She makes an attempt at a smile, but it quickly turns into a quiet sob.

“Apparently there can only be one crying girl per bathroom, and Myrtle has claimed the one across the corridor as hers so it's out of order,” she explains as she tries to regain control of her emotions, “and I thought this one was empty since everyone is heading down to watch the match.”

“You were right... for the most part. Why aren't you going then?”

“No reason,” she replies, her voice even, but she's not looking at him.

Sirius thinks he knows why. He suspects it has to do with the good luck kiss that Cornelia Kettleburn gave James at breakfast and how quickly Lily disappeared after that.

“Cool. I'm not going either. Fancy going to the Astronomy tower for a smoke?”

She looks taken aback. “I— wait, why aren't you going?”

In truth Sirius wants to go, and James is going to kill him for this, but lately he's been claiming that he no longer has feelings for Lily, and Sirius hates being lied to, so technically this is just payback.

“James got on my nerves so I'm skipping the match in protest,” he adds with a shrug and it's the truth, because it wouldn't be fair to lie. “So, are we smoking or not? Got a fag I can borrow?”

She's not an idiot: she knows this is an olive branch of sorts. Sirius can tell she's deciding whether to believe him or not; after a moment she sighs, and Sirius knows he's won.

“Haven't you got your own? Merlin, you're cheap,” she says while producing a pack of cigarettes from her satchel and handing it to him, a smirk on her face. He's glad to see that she seems to have calmed down significantly.

“I'm trying to quit so I stopped carrying them around,” he replies and grabs one, putting it in the breast pocket of his vest.

“Looks like it's working,” she notes as she fixes her appearance in front of the mirror and readies herself to leave the room.

“Absolutely.”

“Why are you mad at Potter anyway? Thought you two were inseparable,” she asks as she walks towards the door, a step ahead of him so that he can't see her face.

“Can't tell you, it's a secret.”

She huffs. “You lot are starting to sound ridiculous with all these secrets,” she whips her head towards him, her disapproval clear on her face, though he's almost certain this is just another way of disguising her curiosity. “Is this little group of yours a cult or something?”

“It's a counterculture,” he explains as he exits the bathroom, “how else are we going to beat those bigoted dickheads? The only way to fight a cult is with another cult.”

He's just joking, but the idea doesn't sound half bad to his ears.

Apparently Lily disagrees, because she snorts. Loudly. “Not sure about that logic but you do you, I guess.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Anytime, Black.”

#thank you again for the prompt and I'm so so so sorry about the delay lol #I LOVE THIS FRIENDSHIP #does this count as jily? idk you guys tell me #I'd hate to spam the tag with non jily stuff but there's jealous Lily so I think it counts even if there are no interactions #jily #it's almost 2 am here :)#can't be arsed to check it for typos so I'll do that tomorrow goodnight folks x #jfleamont rambles #jple #jily fic #platonic blackevans #lily evans #sirius black

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lanassgirlll · 6 months ago

Text

Old Faces

part 1, part 2

Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The last time you saw the Mikaelson family, you got left heartbroken. Now, you meet a certain member of the family again after centuries.

Warnings: maybe a little bit of angst? use of y/n!

AN: I don't really remember the original idea for this, since I published the first part almost a year ago, lol. But I wanted to finish it and I was in the mood to write, so here it is, the second part that I was supposed to post in January. It's short but at least it's something. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

Sitting down on the chair Elijah had pulled out for her, Y/N couldn't stop thinking that agreeing to talk to him was a mistake.

She could remember the pain so well from all those centuries ago, and yet the love she used to feel for him back then was playing with her rational thoughts. Was it possible that a little spark of it was still deeply buried in her heart?

Y/N was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't even notice Elijah had sat down across from her on the small coffee table in the cafe he had taken her to.

He cleared his throat, maybe a bit too loudly, before speaking up.

"Y/N? Are you alright?"

She blinked a few times before slowly looking up at him. She stared in his eyes, seeing worry behind them? Surely her mind was playing tricks on her.

"You brought me here to talk, so talk, or else I'm leaving."

Y/N thought perhaps, she was being too harsh with her words, but she quickly dismissed the thought after remembering the horrible words he had said to her the day Elijah and his family had left her behind.

"Would you like something to drink first, perhaps a tea? You used to love tea-"

Y/N clenched her jaw and quickly cut him off mid sentence.

"I do not wish to chit chat with you like I have all the time in the world, as I said before. Get to the point or else I am leaving."

Elijah looked at her and sighed. He could still remeber her as if he had last seen her yesterday, and not centuries ago.

She hadn't changed much. Only her hair was much shorter and she seemed more.. on edge, more rude, than she used to be, but he couldn't be sure.

"I now realise that I have missed you, Y/N. And I know I have no right to say such thing to you, but it is only true."

As she heard his words, she rolled her eyes and looked to the side, so he couldn't see her face. She knew sooner or later her facade would break and her walls would crumble under the hurtful feelings that were consuming her. She was so confused.

"Yeah, you have no right to say this to me. You were the one who left me, remember? You were the one who broke my heart like it was nothing, knowing you were once everything to me."

"Y/N-"

But she cut him off yet once again, before he could say more.

"No, Elijah."

She turned to look at him again, before continuing.

"How could you do all that to me? I let you turn me into a monster, all because I was blinded by love. I left everyone I knew behind, so I could be with you. Everything I did, I did for you and your family, because I loved you, and you, you left me behind, all alone, like I never meant anything to you."

Tears were starting to form at the corners of her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. She didn't want to let the pain from the past consume her.

Elijah could only look at her, a sad look in his eyes, as he reached over the table and gently took her hand in his, holding it tightly.

"You have no idea how sorry I am, Y/N. I know I made a mistake by leaving you, but I had no other choice, my father-"

"I do not want your pity. The time for an explanation has long passed. And I honestly.. do not care, not anymore."

She pulled her hand away from his grasp and took a deep breath. She couldn't hold onto old feelings, good or bad memories, or really anything that meant reconnecting with Elijah Mikaelson, nor his family.

"I was ruined after you left me. But that suffering shaped me into who I am today. Perhaps I still feel something for you, buried deep down, but I'd rather drown in vervain over and over again for eternity, than let that control me again."

She slowly stood up from the chair and looked down at him, a small smile forming on her lips. But it wasn't a mocking one or in any way mean. The look she had on her face way.. peaceful?

Elijah stood up as well, without looking away from her face.

But before he could say anything, she held her hand up in front of her and spoke up again.

"I wish things could be different, Elijah, but I'm sorry to dissapoint you, that they're not. I learned to live without you, and I will keep it that way."

She slowly put her hand down and stepped next to him, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Have a fulfilling and happy life, Elijah, I truly wish you all the best."

She gave him one last soft smile before speeding away, leaving only a trace of her perfume behind.

And all Elijah could do was stand there, shocked at their interaction. He wasn't hurt or mad, but what he felt was joy and pride.

He was proud of the woman she had become, how strong she seemed and even after all the pain he had put her through, she still had that endless kindness in her, that he had fallen in love with all those centuries ago, along with every other thing about her.

"Until we meet again, Y/N."

He said with a small smile, before walking away.

#writing #send anons #writeblr #writers on tumblr #anon ask #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson #the originals #tvdu fanfiction #tvd #tvdu #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries #tvd rp #the mikaelsons #short story #story #buckybarnes #x reader

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vikenticomeshome · 8 months ago

Text

Carl's Cool Kids and Hardee's Cool Kids Meal Toys (part 1/?)

Hello all,

Not too long ago, I made a post about the Cyberchase toys that were available from Carl's Jr. and Hardees back in 2003. This was a tiny part of the Cool Kids promotion that was shared between the two restaurants. The Cool Kids promotion itself lasted about 18 years, based on the archives that I have seen. It started with a "Cow and Chicken" promotion back in February of 2000.

The last promotion is unknown, as the links for November 2017 through April 2018 are missing their graphics, and their target pages are broken. The last one that has its image archived was an August/September 2017 promotion for "oddbods".

For the most part, I am going to stick to the "past promotion" pages, as those give us images and names for all of the products all in one image. If this is missing, then I will attempt to use the set of images from the "toy closeups" page. However, I will need to skip some of these promotions entirely, as I was unable to find images from them.

The year 2000

For February and March of 2000, we have a set of toys from the legendary old Cartoon Network show "Cow and Chicken". I remember watching this sometimes when visiting my grandma, who had cable. I don't really remember it though.

For April and June of 2000, was have "Big Guy and Rusty the Boy Robot". I have never heard of this before. It ran on Fox Kids in 2001, so I am a bit surprised that I didn't see it alongside other shows I watched back then.

For June and July of 2000, we get a version of Tom and Jerry that was airing on cartoon network. What can I say about these two that hasn't already been said? I remember watching a few incarnations of Tom and Jerry. I think this is the one with William Hanna and Joseph Barbara. It doesn't look like the Chuck Jones variant from what I remember.

For July and August of 2000, we get some superheroes from DC. One thing I notice about these toys is that they don't have a consistent art-style. Wonder Woman is a particularly obvious outlier. They don't seem to be associated with a particular cartoon incarnation.

For September and November of 2000, we have "Brothers Flub". My only opportunity to watch Nickelodeon was visiting my grandma. I don't think I ever saw this show. Apparently the brothers are space couriers.

For October of 2000, we get "Monster Buckets". This picture is grainy, so I cannot make out all of the art. I wonder if this was custom-made, or if this was pre-existing art.

For November and December of 2000, we get "Tiny Toon Adventures". I've only seen bits and pieces of this myself. I know it has a huge following that endures to this day.

For January and February of 2001, we got toys for "Godzilla: The Series". This is another one that aired on Fox Kids back when I watched that channel. However, I don't remember ever seeing this series.

For March and April of 2001, we got "Max Steel". I had never heard of this series before. Apparently, this kids gets attacked by the villain and nearly killed by nano-bots. In an effort to save his life, he is given T-Juice, which saves his life and gives him superhuman abilities.

For April and May of 2001, we get "Monster Rancher". This is not a franchise that I am familiar with, but it is apparently pretty big and ongoing.

For June 2001, we get Crash Bandicoot. He's kind of a big deal. And Spyro is here as well.

For July and August of 2001, we got Wallace and Grommit. This was before the "Curse of the Were-Rabbit" film, which was probably my introduction to the franchise.

And now, we reach a gap. In September 2001, there was a Nascar promotion. And then, in November and December of 2001, there was an "Olive the Other Reindeer" promotion. I couldn't find any official photos for these promotions.

2002

In January and February of 2002, we got Phantom Investigators. I find this promotion fascinating. The series only ran for 13 episodes, between May and August of 2002. These are probably the only toys that were ever released for the series. They may be the only merch of any sort released for the show. I need to sit down and watch it, as the art style is something really special.

For February and March of 2002, we get a Pokemon promotion with little cups topped with Pikachu, Totodile, Mewtwo, and Charizard.

For April and May of 2002, we get the legendary magical girl anime Cardcaptors, based on the manga Cardcaptor Sakura.

And now, we get another gap. I couldn't find any official images for the June 2002 Spider-man promotion.

For August 2002, we get some Digimon toys.

For September 2002, we get "Jackie Chan Adventures". I loved this show growing up. I didn't get to see it very often, but it was good.

For October 2002, we got some Spider-man Halloween buckets.

For November and December of 2002, we go back to the classics for Peanuts, specifically "A Charlie Brown Christmas".

2003

Before we get into the 2003 promotions, let's bring back Cyberchase for a moment. While surviving bags of the togs show that they were released at Carl Jr's and Hardees in 2003, we don't know exactly when they were out. They were never given a promotion of their own. Instead, they were the backup toys when the currently running promotion was sold out. I'm not sure why they didn't give Cyberchase its own promotion.

For January and February of 2003. we got a promotion for the original Ice Age.

For March and April of 2003, we got a promotion for Cubix. This was a South Korean production that got a 4-Kids English dub. I don't remember it.

For May and June of 2003, we get a promotion for Dragon Ball. I hope I don't need to explain what this is. It's kind of a big deal.

For July and August of 2003, we get a promotion for "The Martians".

Now, hold on a second, I don't remember a cartoon called "The Martians" from back then. And I cannot find a cartoon by that name. Wait a minute...

Yeah, I guess Carl Jrs. and Hardees weren't comfortable with the original title of "Butt-Ugly Martians", so they renamed it to "The Martians" and re-did the logo. I couldn't find anything on the Wikipedia page about the show being renamed for different broadcasters or countries, so this may have been just for this toy release. How bizarre.

For August and September of 2003, we get a promotion for everyone's favorite mummy movie.

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grayskies2525 · 6 months ago

Text

A Year of Falling | Ben and Arlo | M/M | Part 1/?

I’ve decided to write another cheesy, little love story 😊. If you’ve read The Reluctant Reunion, and its sequel An Admirable Denial, then you may remember Ben. You don't need to read either story to understand this one.

Word count: 4,200 words

Link to all parts: A Year of Falling

***

Chapter One: January — First Cold of the Year

“I’m not sure what you expect, Ben, when the car is literally twenty-six years old.”

“I expect it to get me to work and back,” Ben says with a long, exasperated sigh as he throws his head back against the headrest of the passenger’s seat. “I need it to get me to work and back,” he tells his best friend, Felix, whose gaze is currently fixed on the road in front of them while he drives.

“Again, that’s asking a lot out of a car that is nearly as old as you.”

Ben narrows his eyes, though Felix doesn’t notice since his focus is still on the road. “I’m thirty-four, Felix. My car is still in its twenties, thank you very much.”

Felix spares a quick glance over at Ben before averting his gaze back to the road. “Ben, you were seven years old when that car was made. You don’t see a problem with that?”

Ben does, in fact, see a problem with it. Of course he sees a problem with it. He’s tired, though, so he refuses to relent.

“Nope,” Ben says, exuding a confidence he in no way actually possesses. “Plenty of cars can run for several decades.”

“With maintenance, Ben,” Felix says, pointedly.

In that moment, Ben silently concedes to losing the embarrassingly short-lived argument. He can’t pretend he maintains his ‘98 Toyota Corolla the way he should. Ben doesn’t have the resources — namely time or money — to keep a car like that properly serviced. Felix is well-aware of this.

So, Ben slumps further down into his seat. He sniffles thickly, scrunching up his nose. One sniffle isn’t enough, so he scrubs at his nose with the back of his hand. Then, sniffles again. He quickly finds himself in an uncomfortable cycle, alternating between scrubbing and sniffling. This has been going on since he woke up this morning. That, alone, should have been indicative that his day would not be going well.

He leans forward to open up Felix’s glove compartment. Immediately, a barrage of items tumble out, crashing to the floor.

“What the hell, Ben?” Felix asks, annoyance clear in his tone.

“Who keeps their glove compartment that fucking full?” Ben asks, feeling indignant in a way he knows he has no right to be. But it’s been a tiresome day — despite the fact of it only being 7:30 AM — and now he has to bend over to pick up Felix’s innumerable CD cases, and with his nose running incessantly, he’s not fond of the prospect. Reluctantly, he begins the task.

“Who opens up someone else’s glove compartment?” Felix retorts.

“Someone whose nose is freaking pouring like a faucet! I need tissues or something,” Ben says, resigning himself, at this point, to holding his arm up over his nose as he collects the fallen items.

“Oh my god,” Felix says, rolling his eyes. “Why didn’t you just say that before taking it upon yourself to destroy my poor car. There’s some napkins in the console, I think.”

With another desperate sniffle, barely enough to stem the tide of his overflowing nose, he finishes shoving the items back into the full glove compartment. He quickly opens up the console and sees several brown napkins clearly acquired from various fast food establishments. He grabs for them and holds the rough paper to his pouring nose. He gives a productive blow before wadding up the napkins and setting them on his lap.

“It’s too early in the year for allergies, so my guess is you’re coming down with another cold?” Felix asks.

Ben rubs the bridge of his nose, hoping to relieve some of the pressure he’s beginning to feel. “Uh, yeah, probably,” Ben says, shrugging.

Felix lets out a long sigh. “Ben, you are literally always sick,” he says, and Ben thinks he detects an accusatory note to his tone.

Ben stares at him. “You say that like it’s my fault.”

“It is,” Felix says, emphatically. “Partially, anyway. You sustain yourself on Cheetos and, like, 2 hours of sleep a night. And you never do anything but work.”

Ben sniffles again, rubbing his nose. He closes his eyes, deciding to rest them for a moment. He knows there’s no use in trying to grab a quick nap, since they’ll be at the coffee shop he works at in less than ten minutes. “Let me know whenever not working becomes an actual option, Felix, and I’ll jump right on it,” he says, his tone slightly more biting than he’d intended. This is beyond a trite conversation between the two of them, and as appreciative of Felix as he is for picking him up when his car wouldn’t start this morning, he doesn't have the patience to listen to this again right now.

Felix lets out a long sigh. “Okay, listen, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to, you know… lecture you or whatever. I just wish you could manage without having to work two shitty jobs.” Ben keeps his eyes closed for a moment. If it were anyone else, he’d smile and joke it off, or change the subject. But this is Felix — his best friend since preschool. He’s the one person he can be his entire self with — even if that current version of himself is in a miserable mood.

“Yeah, Felix,” he says with a wry laugh. “Me, too. I’m just… I’m doing my best, though, okay?”

There’s a long moment where Felix says nothing, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. “Are you?” he asks, finally. “Doing your best?” Ben barely has his mouth open before Felix continues. “I mean, I know you work hard, Ben. Literally anyone can see that. But, what about, you know… everything else? Like, all the rest that goes into maintaining your well-being? I’m not even just talking about how bad you are at sleeping and eating well. God knows I’m also not great at doing those things, okay? I’m not trying to act like I’m perfect, but for me, I’m usually just caught up in other stuff, or I get distracted, but you….” Felix pauses as if in search of the right words. “You were literally a week paying rent this month even though you had the money. And last month, your water was turned off. And this kind of thing happens all the time, Ben. You just… you don’t take care of yourself. Like, at all.” Again, Ben opens his mouth to speak, but Felix shoots him a pointed glare before continuing. “And… And I think you want people to think it’s because you’re lazy, or that you just can’t be bothered, or whatever. But, I know you, Ben, and sometimes I worry that… that you just don’t care enough about yourself. Like, you have no sense of your value. Like you think you deserve to do nothing but work yourself to the bone. I mean, you don’t even try to apply for different jobs. You’ve just accepted this ridiculous setup you’ve got going on, and I mean, what’s even your reward, Ben? To come home to your tiny little apartment where you live alone, all so you can start the cycle over again the next day? You don’t even let yourself date! It’s like you want to be as miserable as possible.”

Ben clenches his jaw and lets out a long breath. He feels moisture pooling up at the edge of his nostrils, so he quickly swipes at it with the back of his hand. “Go ahead and let me out here, Felix,” he says, his tone sharp.

Felix huffs out a breath. “Are you kidding me? You’re really just going to be angry about this instead of actually trying to process my words?”

Ben grits his teeth, wanting to respond, but his breath starts to hitch and he jerks forward into his napkins. “AhhH’DSHooo!” The sneeze is harsh, much more than the sneezes accompanying his bad allergy days. He’s irrefutably coming down with a cold. The sneeze, and the realization that comes with it, depletes his energy.

“Okay,” Felix says with a sigh. “I will admit that maybe this wasn’t the best time for this conversation.”

“Oh and there’s a good time to tell me that I live a worthless, shitty life?” he asks with a wry laugh. “A good time to tell me that because I didn’t go to college or have parents with enough money to help me out, that I’m not trying hard enough? Not to even fucking mention that somehow it’s my fault that I haven’t just fallen into some sort of fairytale romance like you and Connor. Because that’s the only way to be happy, right?” Ben asks, all composure gone.

“Ben,” Felix says, sternly, though Ben thinks he can detect some hurt in his tone, as well. “You know that’s not what I was saying. I just want you to want more for yourself.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ben says, rubbing the center of his forehead where a dull ache is forming. “Listen, thanks for the ride,” he says, looking out the window at the now visible coffee shop. “Don’t worry about picking me up. I’ll walk home later, or… I don’t know, try to get the one taxi or Uber this dump of a town has,” he says, bitterness coating his words, as he removes his seatbelt.

“Goddamn it, Ben. Stop being so unreasonable. You know I’ll be here later.”

Ben’s already shaking his head. “Don’t waste your time,” he says as he leaves the car.

____________

It takes ten minutes into his shift to regret every single word he’d said to Felix in the car that morning. Felix is the sweetest, most caring person he’s ever met, and Ben knows he’d been putting words in Felix’s mouth — that he’d been projecting his own insecurities. But it had been so early in the day, and Ben had woken up late, not having time to get even a single cup of coffee in his system. Then, of course, there had been the mess with his car. And his budding cold.

After the line of customers dies down, he leaves the other barista, Kenna, to handle the shop for a moment. He heads to the cramped storage area to send a quick text to Felix. Using this moment to also have a reprieve from wearing his mask, he pulls it off, then types one simple word — “Sorry” and hits send. He blinks when he sees an immediate response from Felix which also says “Sorry.” Ben furrows his brows. A moment later he receives another text from Felix.

Felix: Did we both just apologize at the same time?

Ben feels the corners of his mouth quirk up as he reads the text.

Ben: Looks like it. You don’t need to, though. I was being an ass. I’m just tired and it’s been a rough morning and it felt like you were attacking me

Felix: I get that. I’m tired, too. Edna escaped her enclosure last night and Connor and I spent hours looking for her. It was AWFUL. But still, I shouldn’t have snapped. You know I just worry about you though, right? That’s where I was coming from. But I recognize those words weren’t what you needed at that moment.

Ben takes a moment to sympathize with Connor for having to live with Edna, Felix’s pet tarantula, then begins typing.

Ben: What an emotionally mature response, Felix. Connor must be sharing what’s he’s been learning in therapy

Felix: He HAS been actually. Anyway, I’ll pick you up when I’m off work.

Ben: Fiiinnnneee. I guess I’ll let you pick me up if you’re that eager to do it, geez

Felix: 🙄 Quit texting me and do your actual job.

And with that, everything is back to being fine between Ben and Felix. Their disagreement hadn’t even lasted twenty minutes. This has always been the pattern between them. Ben knows the foundation of their friendship is strong enough to handle a little shaking up every now and then. Felix knows this, too. It allows the two to say things that need to be said, or like today — things that don’t particularly need to be said, but are still their feelings, nonetheless — without the fear of any actual damaging effects to their relationship. Ben could spend every day telling Felix how grateful he is to have Felix in his life, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Felix has always been his one constant — especially after Ben’s parents passed away a few years ago. Ben has never had issues making connections with people, but keeping them… sometimes it feels impossible. But, somehow, he’s kept Felix all this time.

Ben is distracted from his thoughts when Kenna peeks into the storage room. “Dude, I need you back out here.”

So, Ben emerges from the storage room to reluctantly face more customers. His nose is still running relentlessly, which is not an enjoyable state to be in when serving customers. The next person in line looks to be a man in his late twenties or early thirties. He smiles awkwardly when Ben asks him for his order, and runs a hand through his curly, brown hair. “Um, yeah, can I just have a honey citrus mint tea, please?” he asks.

The man’s voice cracks mid-sentence in a way that has Ben suspecting he’s not the only one under the weather today. The man’s tea order is further evidence of this suspicion, as well as the reddened skin around the edges of his nostrils.

“Sure,” Ben says with his usual forced customer service smile. “Can you give me your name?”

The man opens his mouth to speak, but Ben notices his face contorting into an almost pained expression. Ben’s close to asking if he’s okay when the man’s head bobs down, then pops back up quickly. Ben realizes it was a sneeze — a completely silent one.

“Uh, bless you,” Ben says slowly. “I mean, if that was a sneeze. Was it a sneeze?” he asks, an amused smile playing across his lips.

The man looks up, and Ben notices the man’s cheeks are flushed. Was this man embarrassed to be sneezing? “Um, yeah, sorry,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. Ben feels his brows furrow as he realizes the man is definitely embarrassed to be sneezing. “I’m at the tail end of a cold and my n-nose —” The man swings his arm up to catch another sneeze.

“G’nt!”

This time the sneeze slightly more audible, but still expertly stifled.

The man’s cheeks flush further and his gaze is firmly fixed on the floor when he says “Uh, excuse me, again. My nose is just bothering me this morning. My name…uh... It’s Arlo?” he says as though it’s a question.

Ben watches this man — Arlo — look very much like he wants the ground to swallow him up whole. All that embarrassment from two small sneezes? Ben wonders, to himself. Although, as Ben considers it, he realizes the man looked decidedly uncomfortable the moment Ben first saw him. Ben feels his expression soften as he realizes this guy must just be shy — exceptionally so.

After Arlo pays for the tea, Ben turns around to begin making it. He’s reminded of his own cold as he feels his nose begin to tickle. Unlike Arlo, Ben does not have dainty, quiet little sneezes, so he’s reluctant to sneeze here around food and drinks. So, he tries to hold it off. He’s mostly successful. However, when he goes to hand the tea to Arlo, and with one sharp hitch of his breath as his only warning, he sneezes everywhere.

“HH-ADT’SHHHHUUUE! ADT’SHHOOOOO!”

Ben winces as he realizes he’d never put his mask back on when he’d taken that break earlier. So the droplets from the two uncovered sneezes freely spray out in front of him, thoroughly coating everything close to him in a fine mist— including Arlo’s tea that he’s still holding out in front of him. He desperately hopes he didn’t actually hit Arlo with any of the spray. It’s now Ben’s turn to be embarrassed and he feels his own cheeks flush.

Arlo’s staring at him, wide-eyed, and Ben is horrified to see Arlo actually reaching for the cup.

“Oh my god, no. No, no, no,” Ben says, pulling the cup out of Arlo’s reach. “I just sneezed all over that cup. There’s no way I’m letting you touch this thing. I’ll make you a new one,” he says, emphatically.

Arlo smiles, looking sheepish. “Okay. I just… I didn’t know if it was okay to ask for a new one? And, well, I’m already sick, so….” he trails off, looking away from Ben.

Ben just stares at the man. “Dude, you have got to be a better advocate for yourself. I mean you literally just watched me sneeze on your drink. And you were just going to take it?” Ben asks, incredulous.

Arlo’s face contorts into something resembling a wince. “I guess? I mean, I’m not good at handling these kinds of situations. I ordered macaroni and cheese at a restaurant the other day without bacon, but they brought it to me with bacon, and I’m a vegetarian, so I just… uh, I just didn’t eat,” he says, his cheeks flushing again. “I mean, I ate, but only the salad. But I was with my sister and she, well, she made them take the macaroni back and it was just so embarrassing so I told them not to worry about making any more — that I was fine with just the salad. So, anyway, I just try to avoid that kind of thing,” he finishes, finally, looking down at the floor.

“Were you? Fine with just the salad, I mean?” Ben asks, suddenly finding himself invested in this situation.

Arlo smiles and Ben notices his nose scrunches up in a way that’s almost endearing — cute even. It’s an odd thought to have because Ben doesn’t usually think about people like that — especially strangers. “Uh, no. No, I was actually quite hungry, and well, vegetarian options around here already aren’t that great. So, I really had been wanting the mac and cheese. But, I don’t know. I guess I panicked?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I kind of do that sometimes. I’m not the best when it comes to dealing with people,” he says, that crooked smile and nose-scrunch returning. “I think I’ve made that abundantly clear today,” he says, laughing nervously.

Ben finds himself, despite the shittiness of the morning, smiling. “I think this failed social interaction is more the fault on my part than yours. I am the one, after all, who — and I hate to bring this back up, but it does seem necessary to do so — sneezed on your tea.”

Arlo laughs, his face lighting up in a way Ben, strangely, finds to be rather pleasant. The laughter is short-lived, however. Arlo turns his head to the side and holds a finger under his nose as if to hold back the obvious urge to sneeze.

“HEH-g’nt g’nt g’nt g’nt gn’t gn’t g’nt! Hh Hgn’t GN’T! NgK’T!”

Ben can't help but stare as Arlo became completely lost to the sneezing fit as his shoulders shake with each spasm. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen anyone sneeze quite like that. Felix can stifle his sneezes, but he’s never seen Felix go that long with barely a breath between them.

“Bless you!” Ben exclaims when it seems Arlo’s finally done.

Arlo looks up and sniffles thickly. “Um, I really hate to ask, but do you have any, uh…” Arlo trails off, which Ben realizes he seems naturally inclined to do.

“Oh, yeah! Let me grab some napkins,” Ben says, spinning around quickly.

He holds out the napkins to Arlo, who takes them and immediately turns around facing an empty part of the coffeeshop. Ben shouldn’t be surprised — the guy was mortified to sneeze, so of course he’s going to be discreet about blowing his nose. Ben realizes, though, that either Arlo is blowing his nose profoundly quietly, or he’s not blowing at all, because there’s absolutely no sound coming from him. It occurs to Ben that, most likely, Arlo is only wiping his nose, though from the way his voice had sounded, it seemed he could benefit from an actual blow.

When he turns back around, the edges of his nostrils have visibly reddened. “Sorry,” he says, clutching his napkins. “Like I said — tail end of a cold. I’m fine, mostly. Just some sneezing, still.”

Ben huffs out an amused laugh. “Why are you apologizing? You just sneezed and blew your nose in literally the least disruptive way possible. And again — do I need to mention the incident with the tea? Because it occurred, like, one whole minute ago, so I don’t really think I need to, but if you think I do then —”

Arlo laughs. “No, no. No need to bring it up, again. I do remember.”

Again, Ben has one small hitch in his breath then he snaps forward in another sneeze. “HH-Ih’dzzzHHUE!” This time, though, he catches most of it with his arm. He blinks, then rubs his nose. “Ugh. I’m at, like, the head end of a cold, myself,” Ben says.

Arlo’s brows furrow. “The… the head end?”

“Yeah,” Ben says, chuckling. “Like, if you’re at the tail end, then I’m at the head end— as in, at the very beginning. Unfortunately,” he says, sniffling thickly. “I had been wearing a mask so that I wouldn't, you know, spread this lovely little thing around, but I took it off for a moment and forgot about it. So, your poor tea getting ruined was an unintended consequence of that decision, I’m afraid.”

“Ben?”

Ben startles at the voice, then realizes it’s Kenna. She gives him a pointed look, and Ben just now notices that more customers have been lining up while talking to Arlo as though this were a social occasion and not his literal job.

“Sorry, I’m going to get this customer another tea. It, uh, it’s not any good,” he says, cringing at how ridiculous he sounds. He looks back at Arlo. “Sorry, I guess I kind of forgot I was working. But I’ll get you your tea now,” he says with a smile.

Ben puts his mask back on and remakes Arlo’s tea. He hands it to Arlo, who smiles softly before taking it. “Thanks,” he says. “Um, I hope you feel better soon.”

“Well, thank you,” Ben says with a wide grin. “And I hope this tea helps your throat. I’m guessing that’s why you ordered it?”

“Yeah, actually. I’m a teacher and I’ve taken the last few days off work, and I feel mostly okay, but I know as soon as I start teaching, my voice will abandon me entirely. So, I guess this is a futile attempt to keep that from happening?”

Ben isn’t going to tell Arlo that his voice seems to already be giving out on him with the way it’s cracking and dipping, and that he may want to play it safe and take another day off instead of using tea as a lifeline. He’s also not going to tell him how surprised he is to hear that Arlo is apparently a teacher. He seems much too soft-spoken and reserved for a job that demands standing in front of a room of people. So, instead, Ben simply smiles. There’s a moment where neither of them speak, and Ben has the odd compulsion to ask Arlo out. He’s not going to, of course. That’s not something Ben does. Also, he has no way to know if Arlo is interested in men. And more importantly, Ben doesn’t even know if he, himself, is interested in men. The fact that Ben felt compelled, at all though, is notable enough for him to ponder on. Dating — and all that comes with it — has never been something he’s felt especially inclined to do, regardless of the person’s gender.

Arlo also looks like he wants to say something, but instead he gives a quick, slightly awkward, smile. “I should head out now. So, I’m not late. Like I said, feel better soon and uh… try not to sneeze on anyone else’s drinks?”

Ben notices Arlo seemed almost surprised at himself for making a joke, and slightly embarrassed by it. How can this guy be real? How can anyone be THIS cute in real life? Ben wonders to himself. “You feel better, too,” he says, while the nagging thought to ask Arlo out forces itself to the surface of Ben’s mind, begging him to verbalize it. Ben shoves the thought away. Arlo gives one last shy, little smile before he turns and leaves the coffee shop with his tea.

Ben feels an odd sense of unease settle in his stomach as he watches Arlo walk off. Ben gives a quick shake of his head before returning to work, deeming the entire interaction to be, ultimately, inconsequential. Still, though, he can’t seem to entirely shake the inexplicable feeling that he’s letting something slip away from him.

Part 2

#trying to do my best to post the parts of this story here as i write them #already doing a terrible job since i already have three posted to the forum lol #snz fic #snzblr #snz

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kaddyssammlung · 5 months ago

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Okay. Let's do this mister Vessel (or whoever posted this. Sometimes I think it's you hiding in the main account. Hiding in plain sight...right?! XD ) More under the cut because of mental health things and I also write down how I found "it" out. You get what I mean.

Beginning of 2023 YouTube kept showing me reactions to Sleep Token's the Summoning. So I decided to listen to that song. I had checked them out in 2020 already but I did not really get them back then. And I am still beating myself up over this. But whatever....

I recognized that name but was not really aware of the fact that I had already seen “The Offering” from them. Back then I was confused by the lyrics.

So I listened to The Summoning and also Chokehold. All of this was in January of 2023 but I don't remember an exact date.

My brother and I share the same taste in music and we both liked those two songs. I remember driving to work with him and having wild discussions about the songs and especially their sound. They do sound so different and they still sound so different then any other band that I know. I really, really, really liked their music. My obsession came online fast at that point. I preordered “Take Me Back To Eden” because I wanted to have the CD as soon as it got released. Meanwhile I started to dive into all of their all songs. I read the name “The Summoning” again and remembered that I had heard that way back. I read the lyrics again and started to kind of understand them.

Not long, only a few days after having found them, my brother was like “have you heard who is behind that band?” I did not even care that much about it, so I said no. My brother also did not really know but he just told me what he knew. The same day YouTube suggested a song to me with a thumbnail that showed a shy-looking guy with a guitar. Sometimes you only look at something and know right away. So yeah....I watched that video and read the comments....

I never really thought about that in a sense that: it makes no difference to me. It never has. I have basically always known who they were ever since finding them. It was meant to be in a way.

I started to slowly get into the fandom. I felt weird and disconnected at that time. I really liked their lyrics and their lyrics spoke to me. They also reminded me of my own mental health issues. But at the same time I noticed themes of hope and getting stronger and leaving the past behind and growing strong through suffering. Or other spiritual themes. I was hoping to find peeps in that fandom that are like me and that get what I say, even the “weird topics” such as spirituality. I read through reddit (the normal big because the “other one” did not even exist back then) and also discord and well..hmm...maybe I was a bit disappointed. All of this surface-level shallow stuff XD. I don't mean this as an offense it's just what it felt like. So I decided to share some insight and long story short: it turned ugly on discord fast.

But I always had my little tumblr. Fun fact: I've been on tumblr since its existence. I have deleted my original tumblr a long time ago. It was a “romanticizing mental illness / being pro ana” type of blog. Then I had a recovery blog, fitgirl inspiration blog, Children of Bodom fanblog (that I still have) anyway.

None of those were what this is. I don't just mean this in regards to Sleep Token but more in general.

So...Discord almost destroyed this fandom for me but I did not let it happen. I mean it's also my mental health that got in the way.

Two years back I fell into the biggest whole that I've been in since a long time. This whole childhood sa topic and I had just swallowed down. But something in the lyrics always reminded me of not resolved trauma. So...finally coming out of this. Thanks to Vessel and his lyrics and also my need to explain those lyrics. In the summer of 2023 I found Kerry. She has a video that talks about “The Gods” and Vessel sings about “The Gods” and I wanted to know who the f* “the Gods” were so I started to get into her content.

A journey.....a weird journey ever since January of 2023 and strange synchronicity and all kinds of other things have lead to where I am now. 2025.....the era of truth has begun (it has something to do with spirituality again and nothing with that fandom). Let's see what I can say in a year. I don't know yet.

So...

Thank you :)

#sleep token #personal stuff #ka does energy work

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setaripendragon · 9 months ago

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JSaMN Readalong Liveblog - Chapter 1

Okay, so I've got the entire JSaMN audiobook on my laptop, and I'm going to be listening along for the readalong, and I wanted to try doing a bit of a liveblog and actually write down my thoughts as I'm listening. (And maybe flex some of my analytical skills in a more deliberate fashion than usual? We'll see.) I have read the book before, but that was a very long time ago, and I don't actually remember it very well. (I remember the show much better.) So I may end up making reference to things that come later in the story, though I'll try not to give spoilers.

"He hardly ever spoke of magic, and when he did, it was like a history lesson, and no one could bear to listen to him."

Okay, so, right off the bat, before we even get into chapter one, this just... already sets my brain sparking with curiosity. Almost immediately we get told that magic exists (presumably), but that one of our titular characters talks about it in such a way as to make it boring. That's just... so counter to expectations. Very tasty, and excellent way to start the book, to be honest.

And it's the very first thing we ever learn about Norrell, and it's such an evocative portrait in just a single sentence. There's so much to be drawn out of it; not just Norrell's character, but other people's perception of him.

Chapter 1 - The Library at Hurtfew (Autumn 1806 - January 1807)

The entire opening passage just... immediately sets us up with a system of magic that is treated, in world, in such a... boring, officious manner, and that's just such a fascinating choice. "Long dull papers", "practicioners must pound and wrack their brains to make the least learning go in", and so on. It lays out so clearly that these so-called magicians are... taking the magic out of magic?

(That's a thought I want to poke at more through the readalong. I'm feeling a theme here.)

Aaand then we get our first footnote! Which is a reference to an in-world book. I know that the style of the book, with it being set out as an in-universe history with relevant footnotes and references is, like, Iconic of the book, but I have to mention how much I love it. There's so much opportunity for worldbuilding like this.

It's also, I have to note, our first mention of our other titular character, and I'm vibrating at the choice to introduce both of them in such an off-hand way in the narrative. Without the footnote, Strange doesn't even get named, just called 'a great magician', and Norrell isn't even mentioned in the narrative at all. And the contrasts and parallels!

Strange gets called a great magician right off, whereas Norrell 'hardly ever speaks of magic'. Norrell makes magic sound like a history lesson, and yet Strange is the one who published a book called 'The History and Practice of English Magic'. On the other hand, Strange has published a whole-ass book, whereas Norrell makes magic sound so boring that people don't want to hear what he has to say about it.

Also the contrast between getting to hear what others think about Norrell, whereas with Strange we get to hear what he thinks about other magicians (namely, that they're stupid and quarrelsome).

And! And then there's the contrast of both of them against Segundus, who is, unless I missed something, our very first named character that's actually introduced within the narrative.

"Northern magicians ... had always been better respected than Southern ones." Ooh. I'd never noticed that before, but this is such a lovely little bit of foreshadowing of the whole Raven King backstory stuff.

And then, of course, Segundus asks The Question. And again we get another contrast. We're being told 'there is magic' and 'there is no more magic'; 'magic is a fascinating subject' and 'magic is dull, dry, and boring'; and also here is a learned magician asking this question in a very portentious manner. The narrator tells us three times what he's asking, as though it must be spelled out deliberately, only to be immediately followed up with "It was the most commonplace question in the world."

I honestly love Dr Foxcastle's response, too. It's such a beautiful example of someone twisting facts to suit their argument. (I'm sure there's a name for this sort of... false equivalence in an argument?) "you would not expect ... that astronomers should labour to rearrange the stars" is so poetic and now I really want a story in which that is a thing that happens.

And I know I've said this before, but it keeps coming up and it's such realistic worldbuilding with such an unrealistic aspect of the world that I can't quite get over it; the way that the York Society all but venerates the 'noble' magics of 'long ago' (back in the glory days), and romanticises the whole concept, and yet at the same time absolutely denigrates the reality of magic actually happening as not just a sham or a con, but something that belongs to lesser beings. "A gentleman could not do magic."

(Which also implies that other sorts of magic, done by said 'lessers' is actually still around and possible, for all that the gentlemen deny it being so and call practicioners of lower social classes charlatans. Another weird and interesting contradiction.)

An odd little thing caught my attention in the introduction of Mr Honeyfoot and his family; "...to eat a good dinner in company with Mrs Honeyfoot and her three pretty daughters..." I don't know if this is a convention of the time (I do love how the book plays with language and spelling to give the narrative the feel of something written in the 1800s), but 'her three pretty daughters' jumped out at me as a very peculiar way of phrasing it. Why not 'their'? It probably is just a stylistic choice because Mrs Honeyfoot was the only relevant party mentioned in that part of the sentence, but still.

I also love Mrs Honeyfoot's opinion of Segundus. 'Exactly what a gentleman should be, but ... he would never profit by it, as it was not the fashion to be modest and quiet and kind-hearted.' The contrast there - between the ideal of a gentleman as modest and quiet and kind-hearted that is, despite the elevation in social status of gentlemen, not in fashion - gives proof to the lie of the ideal. (Which feels like it ties in quite nicely with the way magic has been romanticised by men utterly incapable of doing it.)

"...some of whom had gone to the most retired parts of England and Scotland and Ireland, where magic was strongest" There's two things about this bit that grabbed me. The first is the lack of Wales named as an independant place. I don't know my history very well, tbh, but I attribute this to a in-universe attitude that 'Wales' is just a part of 'England', which does fit with the fact that Merlin, iirc, is called an English Magician, despite most probably being Welsh (unless that wasn't such a common part of the lore when the book was published?). The second is the tying of magic to nature, and more specifically the most wild and unpopulated parts of the land. There is such a strong connection drawn between magic and wildness in this book, and it's fascinating.

It ties into the Theme I mentioned at the start, I think, that all this so-called academic debate and 'elevating' magic to 'civilised society' takes something out of it, makes it lesser (to the point of failing entirely (or nearly so) once it's brought into that realm).

Oh, and Norrell's first introduction actually in the narrative is as 'The Other Magician'. Which has so many layers to it. Obviously there is the implication of 'there is the Society of York Magicians' and then 'that other one' (derogatory), and maybe I'm reaching to read more into it, but I can't help but compare it to Strange being 'a great magician' and then Norrell being 'the other magician'.

And then we get told that he lived in "a very retired part of the country". Mere minutes after being told that the Aureates would venture into such places to solve their (presumably magical) problems. Already tying Norrell to a superior magical place and drawing parallels between Segundus and Honeyfoot seeking him out and the year-and-a-day quests that Aureates would go on.

Norrel's letter to Honeyfoot and Segundus is so catty. Segundus notes the sarcasm, of course, but... 'I am at a loss to account for the sudden honour done to me' feels so much like regency speak for 'the fuck you playing at?' followed by his clear disdain for the 'wisdom' of the York Society. I love it.

"What, after all, is the worst that can happen?" Oh, Segundus, honey, no. Don't ever think that when it comes to magic!

Damn, but the descriptions in this book are top tier, chef's kiss, no notes. Just...

"...rain had made long ragged pools in the bare brown fields, wet roofs were like cold stone mirrors, and Mr Honeyfoot's post-chaise travelled through a world that seemed to contain a much higher proportion of chill grey sky and a much smaller one of solid comfortable earth than was usually the case."

I can feel that dream-like quality of the sky opening up around you and the world bending away from that one spot you happen to be standing on. On a more analytical note, I find it fascinating the rhythm that's created by the repeated use of adjective-adjective-noun; 'long ragged pools' and 'bare brown fields' and 'cold stone mirrors' and 'chill grey sky' and 'solid comfortable earth'. Gotta try and keep my ears open for any more instances of this.

The tale of the Manchester Society of Magicians trying to "apply the principles of reason and science to magic" which led them to the conclusion that "there was not now, nor ever had been, any magic in the world" and then the guy who tried to write it down was too depressed to start... Again with the theme of 'taking the magic out of magic'. You try to tame it and it's gone. And followed this time with the implication that this is a devastating thing to have happen.

'Prophecies are great nonsense!' Mr Honeyfoot says, mere moments before enthusiastically wondering if he and Segundus might be the two magicians mentioned in this prophecy. XD

And I'm sure this has been talked to death, but it's so interesting that Vinculus did think Segundus actually might be one of the two magicians, even if he did eventually conclude he wasn't. And then that leading Segundus to Ask The Question that does set off the events of the prophecy. Is that what Vinculus saw in him? That he had a part to play, just not the part?

Also, because we were talking about this in the discord chat at pretty much exactly the same time I was listening to this bit, and wondering What If Honeyfoot and Segundus were the magicians of prophecy:

(I would have put Honeyfoot first the way he was in the book, but we never find out his first name, so the pattern wouldn't fit -sulks-)

Oh, now here's a detail I had forgotten. Segundus says Vinculus made him write down his name, and "looked at it a good long while". There is a similarity between 'Jonathan Strange' and 'John Segundus', and of course the written word does have a certain significance with Vinculus given [Spoilers]. There's some nebulous web of connections here that I can't grasp well enough to put into words, but definitely has the feel of this book's general air of ominous whimsy when it comes to magic and how it works.

In the description of Hurtfew Abbey I'm noticing more adjective-adjective-noun descriptions, though not quite as evocative as the last bit of description. 'ghostly-looking wet trees' and 'fine classical-looking bridge', and I have to not 'handsome and square and solid-looking' even though it doesn't quite fit the pattern. But I'm fascinated by this repeated use of [adjective]-looking as a description here. I'm wondering if this is on purpose and if it's any sort of commentary on appearance over substance. The house is solid-looking not actually solid, the trees are ghostly-looking not actual ghost-trees, the bridge is classical-looking but not actually classical architecture. Or perhaps it's meant to give the whole place an illusory sort of feel, given [Spoilers].

Me being a rather name-obsessed sort of writer/reader, I find the name of Norrell's home - Hurtfew Abbey - absolutely fascinating. It gives these vibes of a place of solace and sanctuary; an Abbey being a place of religious seclusion and hurtfew calling to mind things like feverfew, which reduces fevers; this is a place that reduces pain. And yet, at the same time, we learn that the abbey itself is gone and the name comes from the River Hurt that flows through the place. Hurt flows through Norrell's home. That's some freaking symbolism right there.

Oh, Norrell here is so condescending about Segundus's book. Nitpicking at a self-admitted minor detail, calling it 'your little history', then smiling 'inwardly' to himself as he admits that Segundus couldn't possibly have known about said minor detail because Norrell has the only book it's mentioned in. And it's so... so weaselly, the way he couches it in compliments and 'you're lucky to be so ignorant' type statements.

He's so unpleasant, it's amazing. And even though we were primed for it by the not-an-introduction at the beginning of the book, it's wild to me that the introduction of one of the two titular characters is so, so very negative. He's petty, he's condescending, he's self-congratulatory, he's stand-offish, the best that could be said of him was that he's 'almost gracious' when letting them into the library. Only almost.

I love how disorienting magic is in this book. Again there's a connection to wildness and maybe a sort of 'otherness', that it's unpredictable even to the rules of reality. The description of Norrell leading them to the library being "as if Mr Norrell had discovered some fifth point of the compass" is so evocative, despite describing something entirely impossible.

The distinction made between Books About Magic and Books Of Magic is really interesting to me, given that the latter is implied to have some quality that the former lacks that makes them incredibly valuable. My first impression, given the phrasing, is that Books Of Magic describe how magic is done, whereas Books About Magic describe what magic can do or has done. But given my thoughts this readalong about the notion that trying to delineate or explain magic weakens it's effectiveness/presence/essence/etc, I'm wondering if Books Of Magic do have a sort of magic laid into their pages? Stolen, in a way, from the world by being Written Down. (And perhaps, made lesser for it?)

Coming back to Norrell's character, I've been told that contradiction is one way to create depth in a character, and this scene makes an excellent case for it. Because here he is, clearly a man utterly dedicated to magic, with a magical library magnitudes greater than even other very impressive collections, and yet, every time Segundus or Honeyfoot gushes about the incredible works or compliments one of the books, he's so very negative about it all, so bizarrely disillusioned with the wonders of magic. It immediately engenders the question why? And despite how generally negative Norrell's introduction has been, it does make him an utterly fascinating and engaging character.

"With his long hair as ragged as rain and as black as thunder, he would have looked quite at home upon a windswept moor, or lurking in some pitch-black alleyway, or perhaps in a novel by Mrs Radcliffe."

Admittedly, I was already in love with Childermass by the time I picked up the book thanks to the BBC mini-series, but oh my god do I love this description. Also the fact that just before this, we see him mocking his 'betters' and getting away with it with aplomb, it's yet another absolutely brilliant character introduction. Such a vivid picture painted so elegantly in so few words. (Can you tell who's my favourite character? XD)

I also really like the way that Childermass gets introduced almost as an aside earlier in the scene. (Another introduction that doesn't give any detail until later, like Norrel's and Strange's, although Childermass was at least present in the narrative for his introduction. Vinculus, too, got an intro like Strange and Norrell's, now I think about it.) 'There's a man, his name is Childermass, he works for Norrell, moving on! Here's a decadent and lush description of the library!' And it's only a good while later that we get this description of Childermass as a wild, disreputable, insolent sort with long dark hair.

Th footnote about Martin Pale and Cold Henry. I don't know what I'm thinking about this footnote except something along the lines of: !!!

It's so fucking funny, and yet, at the same time, there's some fascinating worldbuilding going on, what with us being told that "fairies were naturally wicked creatures who did not always know when they were going wrong" and also with yet another example of a magician being extremely pretentious and building a reputation on something of very little substance. (I say, while making grand extracts and interpretations of a text, I am aware of the irony.)

Oh, look another adjective-adjective-noun description. "Then, conscious of time passing and the *queer dark eye* of the man of business upon him..." (-lowers my shipper-goggles down off my forehead- 👀)

And 'a strong cruel-looking knife' which I didn't mark as particularly significant at first (this pattern seems to be something the author just does), but then I thought a little more about how it's another [adjective]-looking description and I wondered perhaps if there is some symbolism going on here with these descriptions. And the place being used to describe its inhabitants; Solid-looking (but actually fragile?), classical-looking (but not actually... antiquated? authentic? A Classic(TM)?), ghostly-looking (but actually... vibrant? vulnerable?). Cruel-looking (but actually kind?).

I'm probably reaching, honestly, but that's the point of this little exercise, so I'm gonna run with it and say that this makes me want to say that that book-binding table was Childermass's, not Norrell's. It fits him slightly better, I think (though kind is not a description that fits either of them particularly easily).

I know that there's other reasons to assume this - it's a form of manual labour which Norrell is unlikely to want or be skilled enough to do, for one - but I think it's interesting that the author took the time to direct our attention to it. Even and especially noting that even the character thought it was Odd, priming us even further to take note of it. And I think, given what I know from the rest of the story, it makes much more sense that it's foreshadowing Childermass's intimate familiarity with Norrell's books, rather than... What? That Norrell binds his own books? I suppose it would make sense with how propriatary he is, but we've already been told that well enough.

And for the end of the chapter, one more delicious parallel. Honeyfoot asks Norrel why magic is no longer done, and Norrell's response? 'It is a wrong question, sir', just like Dr Foxcastle said at the beginning. Except, this time, instead of 'magicians do not do magic', it's 'I myself am quite a tolerable practical magician'. Parallel and contrast! A callback to the beginning of the chapter! A cliff-hanger!Pulling the rug out from under us after spending the whole chapter building up how magic is gone, and then this!

Definitely makes me want to listen to the next chapter immediately XD

Since the readalong is covering the first five chapters in the first week, I was originally going to do one post about all five of them, but, uh, I underestimated exactly how much I'd have to say about the chapter. I might have less to say as time goes on (but I doubt it), so I might end up doubling up some chapters later on, but for now, I think I'm going to make a post a chapter and hope I don't fall behind the readalong, since just this one chapter took me a whole afternoon to get through. If you want to follow along with my liveblog, I'll be tagging each one with 'jsamn liveblog' as well as the 'jsamn 20 readalong' tag, but I won't be linking the liveblogs to each other because I'm already spending enough time on this, and I don't need the extra fuss ^^"

#jsamn 20 readalong #jonathan strange and mr norrell #liveblog #jsamn liveblog #analysis #sort of #jsamn 20 readalong week 1 #spoilers #which I'm warning for both incase I forget myself since I have read the book before #and as a warning for anyone still reading this week's chapters who doesn't want to be spoiled

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