#I relate to him a lot so it's really easy for me to crank shit out from his POV /pos

[nyctophobia-au]

👀,🖋,💻

OKAY, SO,,, for 👀, one WIP that will probably never see the light of day is this forty-fifty page Hazbin fic I wrote like,,, two years ago or smth like that. It primarily starred Angel Dust and Alastor, and I wrote it because I ship them platonically and wanted to give them a QPR (since Alastor is aroace). I got pretty far into it, and ended up abandoning ship on a chapter in which there's a part at the Hotel and Vox and Valentino are fucking shit up. <3 There are still a lot of things I liked about that fic, especially the Vox and Alastor stuff (they're my two favourite characters to write of the Hazbin cast), but I probably won't ever post it because it's a real mess plot-wise, lmao. Despite my decision to not post it, I did go back through it like a month ago or smth and I replaced all instances of American spelling and implemented British English, because that is my preferred dialect, lmao.

Gonna just answer 💻 next before the snippet question. So, I already talked about the poker deep dive, which is probably the funniest and most elaborate research I've done, but aside from that, I mostly end up in deep dives about synonyms. As an NSFW writer (yeah, I am shamelessly admitting it <3), there are definitely times when I end up on tangents looking for appropriate dialogue and synonyms related to such things. There are also small-brain moments where I forget wtf a word is and am desperately trying to find the word I'm thinking of, lmao.

🖋 Okay,,, so as for a snippet. I started writing this fic a couple of weeks ago, but then had to stop because of an influx of homework from all of a sudden outta nowhere (DEAR GODS, THE DOC SAYS IT HASN'T BEEN EDITED SINCE THE 27TH). But, the synopsis is that it's a sickfic featuring Auric, Grimm, and Vesla (also Dryya briefly), but rather than being a wholesome sickfic, it's kind of depressing. <3 Perfectly angsty, as all things should be. aNyWaYs. When I had first started it, I wrote Auric's two-page POV in like,, two seconds, no problem, and then got stuck on Grimm because he is significantly more difficult for me to write. I'll just take a screenshot of a short section of Auric's POV. Keep in mind, I haven't reread it for grammar and syntax errors, so it might be kinda garbage. Bear with me here, lmao. Just a real short snippet from page número uno.

[about-faces]

The director Joel Schumacher has passed away, and everyone's reactions have boiled down to two topics: 1.) "He was the guy who made the bad Batman films," and 2.) "Hey, he did lots of great films besides the bad Batman films!"

Thing is... I get it. I remember being a teenage comic fan in the 90's. Not just any comics: especially Batman! But ESPECIALLY Bart especially Two-Face. I remember how "Joel Schumacher" was a name that could invoke white-hot rage in myself and everyone in the fandom. He was our modern equivalent of Dr. Fredrick Wertham, the boogyman who had (far as we were concerned) single-handedly destroyed the mainstream credibility of superheroes.

Look at that picture, and try to imagine that this was the face so loathed and mocked by Batman fanboys in the 90′s.

Never mind that Schumacher didn't WRITE the Batman films. The main credit for that goes to Akiva Goldsman, who has gone on to win an Oscar and continues to find A-list success despite ruining other geek properties like Jonah Hex and Dark Tower. Never mind that Schumacher was at the mercy of producers who wanted the movies to be nothing more than merchandise machines and toy commercials. No, Schumacher was the only name associated with the films, and he was cast at the villain.

The fact that he was openly gay played no small part in making him an easy target.

One year after the disastrous release of the infamous Batman & Robin, the beloved fan-favorite cartoon Batman: The Animated Series (then rebranded as The New Batman Adventures on the WB network) produced an episode that featured a pointed jab at Schumacher. The episode was titled "Legends of the Dark Knight," a reworking of a classic 70's Batman tale where a group of kids share their own ideas of what the mysterious Batman is really like.

Halfway through the episode, the kids are overheard by another kid, who shares his own ideas about Batman. The kid, whose name is Joel, has long dirty-blond hair, and works in front of a store which bear the sign "Shoemaker," despite clearly being a department store. He waxes dreamily about the reasons he loves Batman: "All those muscles, the tight rubber armor and that flashy car. I heard it can drive up walls!"

This last line--a reference to a silly bit in Batman Forever--he says as he flamboyantly tosses a pink fur stole around his neck. To drive home the joke, one of the kids dismisses, "Yeah, sure, Joel."

At the time, it seemed like a cathartic joke for us REAL Batman fans. Now, it's clearly just cheap and gross. Instead of any actual criticism about the films, Joel Schumacher was just seen--even if just subconsciously--as the fruit who ruined Batman.

Over time, the hatred for Schumacher lessened. Starting with Blade, X-Men, and Spider-Man, on through to Batman Begins, Iron Man, and onward, superhero movies became huge mainstream successes, with greater fidelity to the source material than most adaptations we saw up to the time that Schumacher "killed" the superhero movie. There was no point in hating him anymore, if there ever was (again, Goldsman more deserves that ire, if you're gonna be angry about anyone. Why does he still get work?! WHY IS HE NOW WRITING FOR STAR TREK?!?!).

But even still, especially among Millennial and Gen-X fans, Schumacher is still--at best--considered a low point for fandom. Even though the same generations have come to appreciate and love some of his other films, such as The Lost Boys, Phone Booth, and the chillingly-prescient Falling Down, there's still this need for people to dismiss the Batman films as embarrassments that are best forgotten in favor of Schumacher's better films. And if they're to be remembered at all, it's to trash them all over again in a tone suggesting that the films are objectively, irredeemably bad.

Except they're not. Oh sure, if you go in looking for a grim and gritty capital-M "Mature" take on Batman, of course you'll hate them, just like you probably also hate the Adam West Batman show. Remember, that show also used to be hated by decades of Batman fans because of how it didn't take the comics seriously.

... except it did. The show was VERY faithful to the Batman comics of the 50's, which often out-weirded and out-sillied its TV counterpart. If anything, the show made some of those stories even more entertaining with camp value and jokes that added different levels of enjoyment to the adults watching. Comic fans resented how Batman became a pop culture joke, and increasingly fought against anything that was colorful and campy (which makes me wonder if this might also be related to latent homophobia). Whether or not they admitted/realized it, the Batman fans of the 70's and 80's carried a chip on their shoulder about a show that DARED to make Batman FUN.

And really... how is that any different than Schumacher's two films?

You don't have to agree, but I think Schumacher's films are fun. I think Batman Forever is highly entertaining, that Tommy Lee Jones and Jim Carrey are bringing their hammy A-games as much respected actors like Burgess Meredith and Caesar Romero brought to their roles. Same goes for Arnold and especially Uma in Batman and Robin. They KNOW what movies they're in, and they're all having a blast.

(How many of us remember the exact line Eddie says at this moment? I bet you probably do too, which should tell you something about how memorable this movie is)

Now, BF and particularly B&A are by no means GOOD movies, but you can't tell me that you couldn't have a blast putting the latter on at a party and riffing it with friends. It's not a pretentious, ponderous, self-serious slog like, say, the shit Zack Snyder cranked out (apologies to the one or two cool Snyder fans here, I just find his films interminable). Even besides the many things I could say to defend Schumacher's Batman films (that's a whole other essay), you can't say they were boring. They were entertaining, even if on a level of making fun of the film, and that is NOT as easy as it looks.

Let me put it to you this way: Batman Forever has, objectively, one of the worst takes on Two-Face I've ever seen. He's one-note, he's kind of a rehash of Nicholson's Joker, he gets completely overshadowed by the Riddler, he gets killed by Batman in a way that completely betrays the whole “DON’T KILL HARVEY” arc with Robin, and worst of all, he CHEATS on the coin toss. That alone would be enough for me to condemn this depiction in any other Two-Face story.

And yet, even I--the most passionate, opinionated, and picky Two-Face fan you will EVER know--still have a soft spot for Tommy Lee Jones' take on ol' Harv. He’s just too fun, too flamboyant, too damn extra not to love. If only all bad takes on Two-Face could be this fun!

But that’s the thing: it’s not because the script was good. Oh god no. I've read the script, and if it were put on the page like a comic, I would have hated it just like any other bad Two-Face comic. I have to imagine that, as director, Joel Schumacher deserves the bulk of the credit for pushing the restrained and laconic Tommy Lee Jones into that oversized performance, and making it a delight to watch despite everything it does wrong.

I'm rare for my generation to have learned how to stop worrying and love Schumacher's Batman. But the younger generation, the up-and-coming Gen-Zs getting into Batman, don't share the same grudges we did. There's a genuine, shame-free enjoyment of those films among The Kids, many of whom are LGBTQA+, who love the jokes, the silliness, the camp, the Freeze puns, the swag of Uma Thurman, and the homoerotic subtext between Two-Face and the Riddler. Maybe it's just a reaction to so much GRIM, SERIOUS shit that DC and their fanboys are trying desperately to push even today.

But comics--especially Batman--have a long history of colorful, stupid, fun shit. Schumacher's films carried on in that tradition, and they should be appreciated on their own merits by those of us who aren't limited by narrow ideas of what Batman "should" be, and who still remember how to have fun.

Schumacher's Batman films should no longer be seen as embarrassments. They didn't ruin superheroes. They didn't ruin Batman. They didn't even ruin Two-Face. Nor should they be disregarded in favor of Falling Down, like losers in a respectability competition. They're fun. They're entertaining. And they didn't pretend to be anything else.

And if you still think they're bad... I mean, objectively, you're not wrong! But be mindful of the reasons WHY you think they're bad, because on another subjective level, you may not be right either. And it's certainly not worth holding a geek-grudge over after twenty-five years.

[punkscowardschampions]

Zelda & Zach

ihatemyguts: Good thing you told me how bubble boy posi Robyn’s ‘rents are

ihatemyguts: ‘cos that felt like such a brush-off

ihatemyguts: I feel kinda bad, it’s low-key just upset her with no shopping trip pay-off 😬

inandout: your first date was today

inandout: the insane jealousy must have forced me to forget

ihatemyguts: Obviously

ihatemyguts: moping and staring out of open windows would be bad for your health

ihatemyguts: probably

ihatemyguts: can’t have that

inandout: mope hard enough and fling myself all over the house, they’ll call it exercise

ihatemyguts: I’d let Rob know but her parents would probably sue me

ihatemyguts: I did some research

ihatemyguts: and yeah, flare-ups fucking suck, but if she was struggling that bad rn she’d be in hospital getting her 💉 on

ihatemyguts: makes me ⁉️ if the meetup will happen

inandout: makes me wonder if her brothers are allowed out

inandout: if they are maybe they can help us smuggle her to the meetup

ihatemyguts: not just a pretty face

ihatemyguts: that’s a damn good idea

ihatemyguts: I can slide in their DMs

inandout: Cranking up the jealousy metre to give me a full work out, I see, are you gonna be a PE teacher when you grow up?

ihatemyguts: *prays they aren’t like 12*

ihatemyguts: imagine if that was my life’s ambition

ihatemyguts: wear unflattering sportswear and give kids complexes

ihatemyguts: even without the potential life-shortening illness, I’d reconsider that

inandout: it tracks that you’d wanna make them 💩 and bringing back the bleep test could work

ihatemyguts: okay I’m not 🦹‍♀️ or 🐯 levels of sweet but is that what you really think of me? 😏

inandout: I think there’s only one rebel teacher coming to mind and I haven’t watched that film so all I know is they stand on desks

inandout: probably not a perfect fit for you

ihatemyguts: I could force you to watch it for our first date

ihatemyguts: and ask you, what your dream job would be

inandout: Netflix and chill or cinema screening of the ‘classics’?

inandout: we could do a drive-thru

ihatemyguts: hmm 🤔

ihatemyguts: there are pluses to ‘em all

ihatemyguts: cinema, we could laugh at all the snobs and 🤓s

inandout: Cool, reach out to me with the time + date when it’s showing

inandout: Are you allowed 🍿?

ihatemyguts: oh hell no

ihatemyguts: have to find another way to hold my hand

inandout: 🦸‍♀️ said she was gonna look up ice breakers and stuff, hopefully it was a fruitful search and she won’t mind sharing the info

ihatemyguts: do you think she legit didn’t realize how thirsty that boy was for her

ihatemyguts: or is it all uwu coy-ness

inandout: It’s hard to tell

inandout: but if I remember my glasses I’ll do my best to decode her body language from 6 ft away

ihatemyguts: aside from hospital, have you ever met someone else with cf?

inandout: Nope

inandout: jokes aside, it really is discouraged

ihatemyguts: that’s a hard one to get your head around

ihatemyguts: far as adjustments go

inandout: getting Robbie at this meetup won’t be easy

inandout: separate ones mean we might not have her there

ihatemyguts: I reckon we can trust you and Kara to keep the teen love story fictional

ihatemyguts: for all our sake’s

inandout: She’ll get her man

inandout: it’s not like bad advice and dating pitfalls are just a click away

ihatemyguts: cosmos never steered ANYONE wrong

inandout: Yahoo answers neither

ihatemyguts: might be confused as to why they’re not related

inandout: [I like to think he’s just sending his fave yahoo answer answers now for the lols]

ihatemyguts: [meme back and forth lads]

ihatemyguts: if she gets her date we could go into the matchmaker business

ihatemyguts: start at home

ihatemyguts: 🤖 don’t last forever

inandout: Rob’ll need to be next or she won’t forgive us

inandout: and we’ll soon get tired/guilty of seeing the amount of 😿💔 spam the chat

ihatemyguts: we’ll have to liberate her first

ihatemyguts: in a literal way

ihatemyguts: not the pretentious, free your 🧠 type of vibe

inandout: Kidnap’s playing into her parents’ fears but we don’t have a better option

ihatemyguts: now it’s my turn for a potential 💡

ihatemyguts: what if that is exactly what she should do

inandout: jump scare them?

ihatemyguts: if she did some actual wild shit to show them they’re being suffocating, ‘scuse the mention, then they’ll have to compromise and let her do normal kid things and everyone will win

ihatemyguts: I realize getting her to wild out might be a problem

ihatemyguts: catfish it though?

inandout: 💡⭐️

inandout: getting her to agree to do it for real would take longer than we have but you’re right, faking it wouldn’t take any time at all

ihatemyguts: get Lauren to picture whatever the hell she’s up to

ihatemyguts: sorted

inandout: + there’s your next photo challenge ready to be accepted, dressing as if you were going on a date with 👵🌈✨ instead

ihatemyguts: hold my neon

ihatemyguts: and think, do we clue Rob in on this plan now or do it on her behalf first, ‘cos we could hit up her house phone with some madness to get ‘em sus now and when she’s like wuuuuut it’ll sound even more

ihatemyguts: or is that a bit evil genius instead of 🦹‍♀️

inandout: Does she even have a house phone? We don’t

inandout: you’ll have to find another way to trick my parents into believing I’m a badass

ihatemyguts: I bet they do

ihatemyguts: can’t trust a mobile

ihatemyguts: and I bet they don’t have a microwave, they’re that sort

ihatemyguts: obvs I’ll just direct them to Lauren on your friends list with a 🤔

inandout: We should probably warn her, in case she takes it the wrong way

inandout: or decides to stand up to them for her YA movie moment

ihatemyguts: yeah, you’re right

ihatemyguts: if she doesn’t go for it, her brothers might be of use still

ihatemyguts: have to focus my evil energy elsewhere

ihatemyguts: such as…

ihatemyguts: 🥁

ihatemyguts: [one of the crazier lewks from babyteeth for the photo challenge]

inandout: 🤞🏻 one of them is old enough to drive the people carrier

inandout: Uhh… that was a suspiciously fast transformation

ihatemyguts: didn’t know you was challenging a pro?

ihatemyguts: and someone with a lot of time on her hands

inandout: I do now

inandout: and I’m guessing it’s not every day you get stood up based on what else I know about you

ihatemyguts: it’s a first

ihatemyguts: not that I constantly ask people out

ihatemyguts: but that is what I’ve put across so fair enough

ihatemyguts: what am I interrupting for you?

inandout: I’m waiting on friends

inandout: this could end in both of us being stood up

ihatemyguts: am I a drag you down with me type?

ihatemyguts: hmm

ihatemyguts: nah, I’ll cross my fingers that your friends aren’t flaky

inandout: Late, but I’d be too if it wasn’t my house

inandout: What are you gonna do now shopping’s off?

ihatemyguts: life is one big photo challenge, right

ihatemyguts: yours is ‘whatever will make your friends double-take when they open the door’

ihatemyguts: it’s a good question

ihatemyguts: we’re going to virtual shop tomorrow but she wasn’t up for it today

inandout: Wait for it and their faces

inandout: + you’re virtually invited to watch movies and play games, you won’t be the only one who isn’t here in person

ihatemyguts: 👍

ihatemyguts: cool

ihatemyguts: meeting new people is my new thing, as long as your mates are down/not the level of nerd that they might get a nosebleed if a girl is about

inandout: Some of them are girls if that helps

inandout: and my brother won’t be there to bring down the cool

ihatemyguts: low-key a shame

ihatemyguts: have to meet him before the first date though

inandout: I’ve got a father you can ask for permission if you’re feeling old-fashioned

ihatemyguts: full set

ihatemyguts: fun

ihatemyguts: mines in scotland so we’ll let you off that trek

inandout: But a road trip is a coming of age movie staple! 😫 Has Netflix aired any YA without one + are you willing to take that risk?

inandout: mine’s a workaholic but we’ve got years to catch him

ihatemyguts: forget the meds, see who gets fucked up first

ihatemyguts: it’d be a journey, for sure

ihatemyguts: do you know what he does? ‘cos so’s mine and I couldn’t tell you, tbh

inandout: Or mix them up and see what happens when you take the ones for my 💩

inandout: He’s a sales manager, he says, but why so vague?

ihatemyguts: sounds like something they’d do at cool parties

ihatemyguts: and that sounds suspish

ihatemyguts: they should have this 🤓 but with a moustache instead of the buckteeth

ihatemyguts: dads are elusive creatures… conspiracy time, what are they all up to

inandout: Not sure that’s the topic Rich has been watching vids on but I’ll ask

ihatemyguts: he can always tactfully ignore you if he’s 😳

ihatemyguts: like he does with 👵🌈✨ when she’s extra

ihatemyguts: more than usual

inandout: Be harder to do that in person

ihatemyguts: I think everyone will still get on

ihatemyguts: unless fibrofog shows, then that’ll be teen show worthy drama, of course

inandout: I think he’s genuinely blocked, he’d need a 2nd account to find out about it

ihatemyguts: hope he’s seen catfish too

inandout: He’d be a fan of the one where the man refused to believe it wasn’t Katy Perry

ihatemyguts: it does seem like the sort of thing she’d do

ihatemyguts: poor bastard

inandout: 😂

ihatemyguts: ultimate photo challenge, catfishing everyone and then going for the ruveal

ihatemyguts: might need more than just a wig 🤔😏

inandout: Dressing like her would make my friends do a double-take

inandout: [pics of some of her outrageous lewks with his head put on]

ihatemyguts: 😂😂😂

ihatemyguts: you suit the 🍦🧁🍭🍩✨

inandout: We’ve probably got a can of squirty cream lying around for hot chocolate

ihatemyguts: inhaler but make it ~sExxxIii~

inandout: [a lil video of his failed attempt to re-create that in her insta DMs or wherever because idk if they can send stuff like that here]

ihatemyguts: Katy dat you 😍😍

inandout: I’ve agreed to only string you along for 4 years not 6 and I don’t have any savings to spend 25% of on a 💍

inandout: looks like the comparison starts and stops with our black curls

ihatemyguts: not much of an orlando bloom clone myself so it’s alright

ihatemyguts: pirate is always an excellent disabled-friendly costume though so add that to the ideas board we should start

inandout: If we decide the next meetup is fancy dress, Lauren will never go back home

ihatemyguts: that’s the mood

inandout: [sends her whatever he did for the photo challenge and his friends reaction to it because why not say they’ve arrived and there’s a similar feral mood here]

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2007

18 to 19 years old. Things were slowly starting to get better and better.

15 honorable mentions, but this is still only a top 10. What an incredible, amazing year for music. My favorite hit song for the entire decade is in there! I think everyone already knows what that is because I am, in fact, extremely predictable.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

Second to third year of my History studies. Met a great guy. So great, in fact, that I married him in 2019 because we’re still living together 13 years later. Got my first summer job but spent my first pay on driving lessons, because, again, I needed to get out of my parents’ appartment and knowing how to drive would be good to find a job. I had a much better access to internet. I still had great grades. Things were getting much better.

I stopped making my personal lists of favorite songs that year, and I had an mp3 player, which really opened a world of possibilities even if you could only put something like 40 songs on it, at best.

I was still reading Rock Mag a lot. As you can see, the biggest controversy at the time was what was emo and what wasn’t.

We were alright.

As far as non-elligible songs go, well there’s I Still Remember by Bloc Party (and the fact I can’t put it on the list is a heartbreak and a half) and basically everything from Year Zero by Nine Inch Nails. Nightwish, Epica and Within Temptation all had pretty good albums too.

Here’s a metric ton of honorable mentions first!

Snow (Red Hot Chili Peppers) - Perfectly pleasant song.

D.A.N.C.E (Justice) - Never understood why this was so popular. Still good.

Love is Gone (David Guetta) - Heyyyy another repetitive dance track, perfect.

Miracle (Cascada), Smack That (Akon), Chasing Cars (Snow Patrol), SexyBack (Justin Timberlake) and Say It Right (Nelly Furtado & Timbaland) - Still elligible songs for that year. Still great songs. Still not making the list.

Butterfly (Superbus) - I didn’t like this band, but I liked that song.

Thanks for the Memories (Fall Out Boy) - Same here basically.

Who Knew (Pink) - Not her best, but not her worst by a mile either.

Walk It Out (Unk) - Stayed in my head for days, I swear. I have no idea what the general opinion about it is nowadays. Maybe that’s a humiliating pick and I genuinely have no idea.

Crank That (Soulja Boy) - I do, however, know that the fact this very nearly made the list IS hilarious.

Alive (Mondotek) - Laugh all you want about the tektonik phenomenon, this is still a banger and a half.

Sound of Freedom (Bob Sinclar & Cutee B) - Not as good as Rock This Party. That’s the only thing I can say against it.

Umbrella (Rihanna) - This is an edit because holy shit I forgot Umbrella. It very nearly made the list too. Sorry.

And now, possibly one of the best top tens yet.

10 - This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race (Fall Out Boy)

US: #32 / FR: #71

Almost everyone got the lyrics wrong. The title is way too long. I really don’t like this band of pretentious idiots; if you’re gonna be pretentious at least write about something more grand and epic than your own navel, and go all out (more on that later). Nobody ever really cared about their supposed feud with Panic! At The Disco. And, to make matters even worse, the singer looked exactly like the terrible ex I had punched in the face the previous year.

This is still a damn good song and it’s on the list instead of any of the honorable mentions.

RIP me.

9 - How To Save A Life (The Fray)

US: #24 / FR: Not on the list

You already know I loved The Fray. This song could have apparently also made the previous list but it’s on this one instead. It was overplayed. I still loved it.

8 - U + Ur Hand (Pink)

US: #29 / FR: Not on the list

In 2002, I bought Pink’s Missundaztood album and as you might remember this was the second album I ever bought in my life, right before the gigantic trainwreck that highschool was.

The fact that about five years (that felt like twelve) later, Pink was on the other side of that trainwreck, back in my earphones, just as energetic and fun as she was before, was nothing short of heartwarming.

7 - Je Suis Un Homme (Zazie)

US: Not on the list / FR: #43

I’m not gonna beat around the bush. This song is terrifying.

Here’s a translation. Yeah, it’s about humanity destroying the Earth and itself in various ways, and it’s preachy, but holy shit, how can something be so bleak, so scary and still so catchy. It’s a mystery.

6 - Double Je (Christophe Willem)

US: Not on the list / FR: #2

When I first heard this song, I genuinely thought that was also Zazie and I was like oh wow, she’s learned to have fun again after that bleak, bleak song.

But no. She only wrote it, and it’s sung by this guy. It’s relatable as hell (”When I grow up it’s gonna be easy, I’ll finally know what I am”, “Who’s fault is it? / I’m something and its opposite / Double me”). The fact that a guy had this kind of voice and that a ton of people loved it (enough for him to win a big talent show and make this the second biggest song of the year!) also did wonders for my dysphoria, by the way.

5 - Ta Meuf (Faf Larage)

US: Not on the list / FR: #19

This is a song applying the most obnoxious rap and hip hop clichés about gangsters (and guys in general) to a woman, and she ends up terrorising all the guys and they’re realising these clichés might, in fact, be really toxic.

It’s a great song about gender roles usually seen in this kind of music and instead of being preachy, it’s hilarious, and well-written (I mean, it’s Faf Larage, it’s a given, but still). Check it out.

4 - Relax Take It Easy (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #12

All hail the new king of pop. He was here to stay and what a breath of fresh air he was. This was very much his year in Europe as soon as the album Life In Cartoon Motion dropped.

My significant other absolutely loved this album and we listened to it wayyyy, way too much, and even with all the radio overplay AND the overplay when we were together, I still can’t get enough of this album.

3 - Love Today (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #39

Here he is again!

If this was any other year this would top the list very easily. What were the US even thinking back then to not let this guy chart. Why isn’t Mika a huge star over there too. What is your problem guys. Do you have something against fun or what.

Anyway, here’s possibly the best comment on the music video:

I mean. You’re not wrong.

2 - What I’ve Done (Linkin Park)

US: #38 / FR: Not on the list

Aaaaaaand they’re back. And they’re once again topping my list. Lord have mercy on me. I loved them so much.

This was the first step into their modern sound, less raw, more U2. A couple of years later, when Lacuna Coil released Shallow Life, I used to joke that Lacuna Coil was trying to sound more and more like Linkin Park, that Linkin Park was trying to sound more and more like U2, and that U2 was trying to sound more and more like boring garbage and. I mean. I wasn’t wrong there.

My absolute favorite part of the song is at 2:24, when the music calms down a bit and the lyrics go “I start again / And whatever pain may come / Today this ends / I’m forgiving what I’ve done” and then the guitar explodes again. So powerful. Love it.

And now you’re probably thinking “so... Linkin Park was back, and with such a top quality song and it’s NOT your #1? After you put a Linkin Park song or a Linkin Park remix at #1 for three years in a row in 2002, 2003 AND 2004? What’s going on, Jo? Are you okay?”

Oh I’m more than okay. Friends and enemies, here comes the absolute best hit song of the entire decade and possibly of my entire life so far.

You probably already know what it is.

1 - Welcome to the Black Parade (My Chemical Romance)

US: #59 / FR: Not on the list (shame on you French charts)

I know I keep complaining about stuff I love not charting, or charting but not high enough to make any year-end list, but... How was this even allowed to chart. Why and how did it end up on the US year-end list when so many more radio-friendly hits I loved couldn’t even scratch the hot 100.

I’m not complaining at all. I’m just baffled.

Play the first note on a piano and I’m already a wreck. Heck, I’m pretty sure everyone from my generation is. It was basically our very own Bohemian Rhapsody. It still is. Where do I even start.

Oh. I know. Look at this page from a 2006 Rock Mag, it’s gold.

Yep, they highlighted The Open Door by Evanescence and praised it, and were like “this is very risky and ambitious and we’re not sure you’re gonna like this” for The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. Hilarious in hindsight.

A few months later, the same magazine was desesperately using double pages to interview them because everyone adored the album.

So in case you’ve never listened to it (I’m... not even sure why I’m doing this since I’m pretty sure even people who don’t like this type of music have tried to out of sheer curiosity), it’s a concept album about a guy (...possibly. I mean there’s a lot of trans and/or nonbinary hints in the lyrics and did you really NEED to make all of this more relatable? What the hell guys) dying of cancer, remembering all the good and the bad things that happened in his life, and since his fondest memory is seeing a marching band once as a child, death arrives in the form of a marching band. He then settles some scores with his friends and family, says his goodbyes, and... and doesn’t die in the end. He ends up surviving the whole ordeal, and the last song, Famous Last Words, is one the most incredible things I’ve ever heard. It’s so propulsive, uplifting and motivating. “I am not afraid to keep on living / I am not afraid to walk this world alone”. Holy. Shit. Sadly, it’s not elligible.

Welcome to the Black Parade is basically the centerpiece of the album, as you already know or might have guessed, but here’s the thing. It also works out of context because there’s already an entire narrative arc within this one song. It’s larger than life. It’s about death and the meaning of existence. It basically contains all the stages of grief, and the conclusion it reaches is that this guy will be remembered and therefore, he will transcend death. It’s full of rage and passion and triumph. There’s key changes. There’s tempo changes. There’s everything. It’s a rock opera in a single song. I put it on my mp3 player immediately after listening to the album, and it’s still on my mp3 player today. I never, ever removed it. I listened to it countless times and every single time, it feels like rewatching one of my favorite movies.

Best hit song of 2007 by a mile. Best hit song of the decade, hands down, and now that the 2010s are over, I’m pretty confident in saying nothing has topped it so far. I’d say “fight me” if I thought this was a controversial opinion, but it’s not even that controversial.

And that feels damn right.

Next up: Is... is this a list with actual filler? Are you telling us there was ONE mediocre year for music in the 2000s? Sounds fake but okay

[jellyfishdooter]

Okay so, back when I asked for asks for my Ego DnD AU, @lace-maze sent a really good ask a while back asking about why each of the egos chose the characters they did and their playing styles- and I can’t for the LIFE of me find the original anywhere on my blog. ;3;

But! I finished it and I bet it reads horribly but whatever who cares I’m tired- enjoy!

So to FINALLY answer your question, the way I went about choosing what each of the egos would play more or less boiled down to a combo of trying to pick what I think THEY would want to play, and what I figured they would be in the Dungeons and Dragons universe. (wink wonk)

Marvin- Dragonborn Sorcerer

One of the top veterans of the game, he likes to play something with more of a challenge and a lot more mechanics. And since he’s a magician it’s definitely has to deal with magic of some kind (I mean c’mon, he’s already got the aesthetic wardrobe irl for it so why not?). So he’s currently playing a Sorcerer- a magic caster who has the power naturally within him (which ties in his Race for it’s from his draconic bloodline:)

He could have easily chosen his race to be a Tabaxi (a human-cat like hybrid), but he already got enough shit of being the “furry” of the group as it was so instead he decided to go for a Dragonborn. In the game there are different types of Dragonborn, so specifically he’s Brass- which both deals fire damage breath, and is also resistant to fire.

Being one of the older players, his play style depends on the day. For the most part he is the cool, collected member of the party who doesn’t rush in and thinks things through... Until it’s later in the evening with a few drink in ‘em and then they just say, “Yeah, this might as well happen.” Before taking another shot and round-housing someone poor guy’s ass for mocking his scaly features.

Jackie- Half-Orc Fighter

Always wanting to be the hero, Jackie wants to fight and protect his fellow party members. He only has a few sessions under his belt, but he’s confident in saying that he's comfortable with playing more tanky characters and dealing heavy damage.

Jackie doesn’t have a lot of reasoning for his Race other than Orcs Are Cool so he just rolls with that.

As for his Class he likes having a bunch of different fighting styles to choose from while in combat so he can pick and choose which would work best for the situation (they also get more of a range in picking which Armor Class they want-).

His play style is Protect the Party, but also Rush In Head First Into Danger. He’s always in the front lines of a fight to tank the most damage and provide cover for the more squishy characters. It can get quite frustrating for the healer at times when he runs battleaxe-first into battle, leaving his head behind.

Speaking of healers-

Henrik- High Elf Alchemist

A lot like Anti, Henrik found the idea of playing to be quite silly. But once he got into it, the doctor found it quite enjoyable to get into a fantasy character and forget about the real world for a couple of hours. But wanting to retain some kind of dignity, he decided to play as a High Elf. He was drawn to their grace, wonderlust for adventure, and near perfectionism. To say the least, it's easy for him to slip into character.

Strictly speaking, Alchemist is not the the 5E DnD Handbook, but Jack allowed it and made some homebrew additions to the character so their party would actually have a fucking healer. So in addition to the damage-dealing bombs Henrik’s character uses, he also has a special healing bomb he can yeet at the other players when needed.

Henrik’s play style is serious, but curious. He’s always wanting to explore the world Jack created for them and peacefully interact with the NPCs, enjoying events that unfold naturally. However when it’s time for a proper fight he does not beat around the bush, staying in the back for more long-ranged attacks rather than right on the front lines.

Chase- Human Ranger

The recently-single father needed an outlet other than drinking to try and cope with the loss of his family. So like any good friend, Jack offered Chase a spot in his campaign that he was putting together! He wasn’t too sure at first, Chase said that the game seemed really complex and hard to get into. But Jack waves it off and told his friend, “You honestly have to fully jump into it if you’re gonna get anywhere. There’s not really a small way to start. It’s pretty much all or nothing. But trust me, it’s gonna be great!” And ever since his first session, Chase always looked forward to next week’s game.

Being one of the newer players, Chase doesn’t really play anything too crazy, so he sticks to his guns and runs a Human pc. And he may or may not have based the character on his old life to some degree. Giving himself a stable home, a fulfilling job, and a big loving family and at least 3 dogs. Ya’know, real heavy fantasy stuff.

Jack offered him the newer class/ homebrew of a Gunslinger, but he politely declined ‘cause he didn’t want to have to deal with new rules. So he decided to go with a Ranger for his class, figuring it would make for a cool character to play.

Chase’s play style is pretty average (no pun intended), and not all that spectacular. He gets a few good one-liners in here and there, but for the most part he plays passively. Fights when there’s a fight, and interacts almost only when others interact with him directly. (He’s been trying to get better at being more engaging, but he tends to zone out.)

Jameson- Halfling Bard

This session being JJ’s (and Robbie’s) first ever game, JJ pleasantly surprised Jack when he decided to be a Bard. When asked why, the silent man replied simply, “There’s nothing in the rules saying bards HAVE to sing. At the core of them, they are performers.” Jack beams and asks what’s their instrument of choice then? Jameson smiles and shows him this video, saying he thinks it would be interesting to have this as his musical item. (Also gotta love that good The Bard Seduces Everything trope. He’s keeping that in his back pocket for the right moment.)

As for being a Halfling, Jameson figured it would be fun to play a smaller character. And nobody ever suspects the small man to pack such a whaloop. But really, his love for the hobbits in the Tolkin books had captured his heart and really wanted to try and emulate that in the game! Maybe leaning more towards being a little prankster, but still at the core- in short- Soft Cottage Aesthetic™

Jameson’s play style is bouncy and go-gettem. He’s eager to explore the world and have fun with the NPCs. In battles he’s more comedic relief in the back inspiring the other players (and intimidating enemies by aggressively cranking his music box rapidly). And AT LEAST ONCE he has had Jackie’s character YEET his at the enemy to get the final blow to slay the beast. That was a fun session.

Anti- Changeling Rouge 

Do I really gotta explain this one? 

Naturally Anti always tries to play the edgiest characters he can. Giving them dark, moody personalities but with a slight crazed tick. (Chase naturally calls hypocrisy when Anti says his character is a self-insert to the game.)

I’m almost out of steam here so in short-

Anti loves the idea of having puppets to mess around with irl- so in the game he can somewhat do the same- by changing his figure/ features to mimic those of somebody to manipulate another. He doesn’t care much for the society around him and does his own thing, but can easily blend in and slip into other’s traditions if he needs to. His character has a tendency to pick fights pretending to be someone else before ducking out and watch the fight take place with a smirk on his hidden features. None of the party has ever seen his real face/ form, always changing it subtly so every time someone tries to take a second look something seems different or off.

Rouge: Quick and Stabby. Like the bitch himself.

Robbie- Undead Druid

Jack had to make a special homebrew character for Robbie ‘cause he was set on being an Undead. Apparently Robbie and Marvin talked about character ideas before hand and Robbie got a little overwhelmed with all the options that they had, so Marv suggested something Rob could relate to easier. So after an afternoon of crafting a special stat sheet, Jack allowed their favorite zombie ego to play.. Well, a zombie. (I’m sure someone else has made something similar out there but I might try and make a sheet later.. That could be fun lmao)

As for Druid, I like to see Robbie as being a little more connected to nature than the rest of the egos. Since he.. Yaknow, crawled out of the dirt at one point. (Side story- before the others found him in an old cemetery, he liked to just hang out around the area that was slowly being reclaimed by nature and liked watched the birds and animals). So he was pretty drawn to choosing this class. It’s a little complicated at points, but that’s why Marvin sits between him and JJ, so he can help them out through the whole process. Robbie gets really excited when one of his spells works in combat or just having fun interacting with the NPCs by growing them some flowers to be nice. 

As a whole Robbie’s play style is pretty passive. He gets distracted pretty easily and unless Jack is waving his arms around or using miniatures/ figurines to keep a visual, the zombie will sometimes lose focus and stare off into space for a minute before coming back to the game and raising his hand for something to be repeated.

It’s one big mixing pot of different people and play styles, but at the end of the day, Jack has a lot of fun trying to bounce around and keep up with everyone’s antics and storylines. It’s hard as hell at times and it gets a little frustrating when things get out of hand, but they all try to check each other and keep things rolling. And at the end of the day, all the boys enjoy the game and what Jack has to offer and really fucking enjoy themselves. DnD is a good destresser for most of them and all around a grand fun time!

[arkus-rhapsode]

My Hero Academia Chapter 211 Review

Ummm, Early chapter this week. But were on break next week soooo... I guess this is fine. (Note: there has been an edit made to this review to respectfully not spread any misinformation) 

So w e oddly start this chapter with a little character background from Monoma. Apparently he always wanted to be a hero, but due to the fact that his quirk can only copy others, he will have to depend on others which is not what an active hero should have to do. I actually really like this cause its something we ever got from any other 1-B student, the motivation behind their path. It always made them feel a bit more shallow, so I appreciate Monoma getting a scene like this.

Also he now compares himself to Shinsou. How the two are the same is the fact that their heroic aspiration were denied based on their quirk. The difference though is Monoma still made it into the hero program and not Shinsou.

Now this scene, of Monomaa saying that doing unhero like things to those who are more gifted is okay, is likely reflective on the fact that being a hero is also a popularity contest in this world. To stand out and inspire, you’ve gotta be the best, and sometimes to do that, you do some things you might not be proud of. And with a mentality like that, its easy to see why someone like Stain is so pissed at society when it churns out heroes that will willing do un-heroic things. But then you can’t blame Monoma and Shinsou who are just trying to do their best, but given their genetic lottery they have to work harder than most.

But enough of this flashback, we need to cut back to the present where Deku is slowly losing control.

So Deku’s new black energy is emerging from his arm and Deku is quite literally fighting back against is. Monoma wonders if this is a new power to which I’m gonna save my thoughts on this till later.

Yeah Deku, its almost like the plot decided to fuck you over for the sake of this twist that I’m pretty sure no one wanted and that we could just keep to the usual flow of this arc, but no, we had to veer off in this direction because-Okay okay, I’ll save that for later too. I should really speed this up.

So its turns out that black stuff isn’t actually lightning, but more tendrils. Yeah cause that’s what One for All needed, tentacle hentai. Actually with theses black tendrils, now every fan fic writer who made a Deku as Venom AU (yes those exist) has just been justified.

Anyway, Deku releases what looks to be a beam of energy (I honestly can’t tell) and fires it off at Monoma who Deku at least warns to run.

Okay so, first off, good job Monoma. I’m glas we did make a joke out of Monoma being arrogant enough to think he could handle this. Second, what the fuck is wrong with class 1-A. I’m not saying they should act like they just watched a puppy get shot, but their classmate literally seems to be destroying everything. Now you could say that Todoroki did the same thing when he cranked up the heat, but the difference is that fire is a part of Todoroki’s quirk. Black tendrils has never been apart of his power. I know that not every kid in a classroom has to know or care about all their classmates, but I’d be concerned.

Third thing, So it seems OfA really is sentient as its jittering and moving around like it has some sort of self awareness. And finally, Yup. Can’t control your power. After we had come such a long way, you somehow are forced back to square one. I’ll talk about it later as the darkness begins to overflow.

Gotta feel bad for 1-B who just came here for an exercise, now they might die by black energy.

We see the darkness start sticking to objects (wow it really is Venom) and hoists Deku into the air. Yeah, I don’t now is this is something a user of one for all cold do, but boy its a little goofy. Uraraka and Shinsou seems to be the only people who now gives a shit about how this darkness is surging.

We now see this darkness is actually fighting against Deku, smashing him into a wall. All Might, makes a good fucking call and wants Aizawa and Vlad to shut this down. Which I’m sure Aizawa is perfectly fine with. Vlad has also had like no lines this round, like I’d love to hear his commentary.

(Yes, I realize there is an eye looking thing in the darkness, but it took me so long to find that I’m honestly might not even be sure that it is an eye.)

This scene... Breaks my heart. This in a nutshell was why I’m so opposed to this twist. After 200 chapters, Deku finally, FINALLY, doesn’t have to worry about hurting himself. He can now catchup with everyone else and it was finally time to show it off, but now. Now its fighting back. One for All is literally making him lose control when there should be no reason for him to. Has Deku master One for All? No. So there was still a chance things would go wrong, but not like this. Why? did it have to be the moment when finally the first year is coming to an end does One for All show that Deku is still not ready.

And Deku’s reaction to this is perfect for this. He’s not thinking about how he should be strong enough to resist this, showing he grew to arrogant and this is teaching him a lesson. No, Deku is sad. He’s upset that after all this time people didn’t have to worry for him. He was now strong enough to fight like Bakugou and strong enough to make 1-B actually consider him a threat, but now... Now he’s lost control.

Now it is possible that this is do to quirk singularity a topic that I’m doing a post on later, but in short it was brought up about like 50 chapters ago and its when a quirk becomes something that humans can’t control anymore. But again, talking about that later.

I’ve heard the possibility that, this darkness is actually One for All in a sentient state. Much like the previously mentioned before quirk singularity. That this is like genes being passed down so long and growing complex enough to the point that they are no longer controllable. Now there have been plenty of theories that have come out about this, but out of all of them, in general they likely relate to this. The darkness is literally fighting back against Deku as sign of his lack of more than 20% control and thus the quirk seems to quite literally be swallowing him whole. It feels like if this is the case, then Horikoshi realized that he made it so Deku was now fully protected from damaging himself thanks to his quirk. But he could just make it seem like Deku was just arbitrarily growing stronger without having any difficulty, so he developed a way for Deku to quite literally fight himself in his struggle. It was no longer limb destruction, Deku is literally fighting so that he has the right to use this quirk to its fullest extent.

If that is the case, I can’t say I agree with it. Look, I’m sure anyone could say that this doesn’t bother them. That this makes it so Deku and One for All are like Naruto and the Nine-tails, Ichigo and the hollow, Asta and the demon, etc. And those aren’t things I’m opposed to and are things that I enjoyed. But this isn’t the same. The monster inside that gives you more power worked for those series because that was their power system and world allowed for that. But MHA, quirks are more similar to Goku and Luffy. Their abilities are what is to be heightened and their second release: Super saiyan and gear two, are derivative of their competence of their biology and their power. And Deku was like that. He has a quirk that has nine generations worth of power in it and to use that power he had to learn how to take more in. His super saiyan was him at one million percent. It would destroy his body, but for a time he could use all that power. But I guess this new problem has occurred and we’ll have to see where it goes.

Anyway, the chapter isn’t done as Uraraka floats up to him.

So Uraraka is holding down darkness Deku and calls out to Shinsou and that’s where our chapter ends. Now, if people remember my FT reiewing days, they’re probably to call this a BS ship moment that defies reality and serves to pander a single fanbase. Well, no. Cause that’s not what this is. Uraraka is doing what a hero should do. She’s trying to save someone in danger, and this isn’t presented as this overtly romantic moment like say Sakura hugging curse mark sasuke, no this is actual danger that isn’t stopping so Uraraka is at risk of getting hurt here.

Now, I’m not saying you can’t take this romantically, I mean there is a lot of evidence that the two like eachother, I’m just trying to say, power of love, isn’t what’s stopping this madness, hell its evident that Uraraka needs Shinsou and his power to try and stop it. So this trope is still being done, but there is some logical weight to the solution.

Post Chapter Follow Up: So I wanna first say, this chapter is really short. Like its about 13 pages and it has very, very little dialogue. I did almost felt like I was reading a Bleach Chapter, but in fairness, this had a lot more detailing and was clearly used more as a way to show the sheer scale and weight of what the hell this thing is. Plus more detailed art, so I don’t thing the bleach comparison is entirely fair.

I am disappointed with the page count, given the break next week, I would’ve really appreciated we ended on more of bang than this. All its done is left me wanting more, but not in a very good way.

In terms of negatives, this chapter has pretty much confirmed team Deku vs team Monoma has gone off rails and that our conflict is going to actually be how do we solve this darkness. Last week, I talked about my thoughts on why I’m not a fan of that as this seems like a transparent way to make deku lose as well as seems to imply that Horikoshi had no real intent on making this fight actually work with their combatants. This not only makes this exercise feel like it will ultimately be pointless, but as I said, it screws Deku out of getting to go plus ultra while everyone else got to show how far they’ve come.

One could say that seems like bias and that the point was to get shinsou to help with the vestiges, but that doesn’t fully work cause there had to be other ways than this to make it so Sjhinsou would have to work. I mean, this was that same problem I had with the overhaul arc at the end. It was gong fine until Ryukyu dropped in with a powerup for Overhaul and then deku had to use Eri like a power-up and it just became a cluster fuck. I’m not against twists mind you, all arcs need them, the one he did with Gentle was great in my opinion, but these twists overall hurt the story cause the story was going great up till now and we’ve entered cluster fuck land.

Now look, I’m not gonna let my own opinions impede my objective view point. This twist was built up to. As we saw with the mark on Deku’s hand as he used One for All in his sleep. The fact his quirk has been feeling funny, and the fact that All Might seemed curious about this. So I can not in all good conscious call this a bad twist, but it is still one I don’t agree with.

Other positives are definitely the characterization. Aside from us getting Uraraka getting to act like a savor, we get some great development for Monoma. My only issue would have to be the timing of it. He doesn’t do much this chapter. You’d think that this would’ve been used before Deku went all darkness on us.

So what will the final verdict be. Initially I was thinking of giving this a below average, but maybe because the more chew on to this, and the more I see others reactions to this, it seems this hits that uncomfortable spot of being up to the reader to tell if they liked it or hated it. And those are always hard because there is a fair amount of good and nothing I can call really bad, but that good really isn’t enough on its own so there is an enjoyment factor that can’t be accounted for. Kinda like Aquaman. So where do I stand on this? well I have to be honest with myself as this is my review and I gotta say.

Final Verdict: 5/10

This is something you need to experience yourself to really tell if you enjoy this twist or not

There is some good action and good character development

The pacing feels rushed and there isn’t enough time to fully show this off satisfyingly

I do like the ending

[hyun-swoon]

Statistics Angel

@heonie-ween it’s me!!! your secret santa!!! my gift to you is a fic that may or may not have gotten away from me and possibly inspired me for many other monsta x fics!!!

it’s like 2300 words so it’s under the cut so the post won’t be so long

Summary: Kihyun regretted a lot of things. Not rooming with Minhyuk and just accepting the randomly assigned roommate. Taking MInhyuk's advice for elective. Not taking the professor's advice for when to start the project.

He's not sure if he regrets ending up in the library in the middle of the night, yet.

Link to AO3 here

Kihyun stumbled into the library. It was half past midnight and his roommate sexiled him. Normally, he’d just go to Minhyuk’s room and crash on his floor but Minhyuk was a light sleeper with an early test and Kihyun was in the middle of a huge project.

It was his fault for leaving the whole project until the last minute even though he explicitly remembers his professor telling not to do exactly that. Hyungwon was in the same class and had texted him a picture of his submission screen that morning. Kihyun had simply sent the middle finger emoji and stewed in bitterness over his own poor choices.

So here he was, cursing his roommate for making him leave the safety of their room for the judgment of the library.

“No one is judging you,” Kihyun hears in the back of his head in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Minhyuk’s. “You only get judged when you play sound and don’t have headphones or when you hold obnoxiously loud conversations.” Kihyun supposes that Minhyuk would know from working at the circulation desk and otherwise spending every waking hour outside of class in the library, but he was disinclined to believe his friend who gave an entire half-hour rant before noticing Kihyun’s earbuds.

The library is thankfully empty, most classes have tests instead of projects for midterms and by Thursday night (Friday morning), everyone has either taken their exams or decided that if they don’t already know it, they won’t learn it before morning.

Kihyun picks a table and begins spreading all his supplies out. Although, once he has the file open and the printed instructions in front of him, all progress grinds to a halt. God, who needs statistical analysis anyway? Not Kihyun with his vocal linguistics major, that’s for sure. He needed an elective and when Minhyuk, a business and mathematics double major, said statistics was an easy elective, Kihyun didn’t even think to consider Minhyuk’s majors.

Taking a deep breath, Kihyun puts his earbuds in, cranks up his music and sets to reading the instructions one more time. He starts with formatting and the heading for his paper. Little by little, he begins running the analysis and organizing the numbers into a table. With the easiest part finished, Kihyun checks the time and becomes disheartened once again. It was already nearing 2 am and he still had several more analyses to run and a whole paper to write explaining it.

Saving his work, he pushes his laptop away and lets his head fall onto the table with a thunk. He’s not sure how long he sits like that, but sometime between his wonderings of if it’s too late to drop out and become a trophy husband and if a concussion would get him out of the assignment, something drums on the table. Kihyun turns his head slightly to see a hand resting near his laptop.

He had downed an energy drink and a half before his sexile and after finishing the second one on the walk to the library, he was halfway through his third but he was fairly certain he hadn’t texted Hyungwon about his plans of self-inflicted concussion.

Looking farther up the arm the hand was connected to, Kihyun realizes that it is not Hyungwon or even anyone he knows. The man is buff, certainly way more than any of his own friends, if the state of his forearms were anything to go by. He is wearing a light gray hoodie with the university logo huge across the chest. The hoodie rests halfway on his head and the sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. His hair is fluffed like he just woke up from a nap and if not for his thick framed glasses, Kihyun would have put him squarely into the jock category. Still not sure if he’s hallucinating, Kihyun continues to stare before reaching out to touch the man’s hand.

When he actually makes contact, he jolts out of his stupor and nearly falls out of his chair, stopped only by the man’s grip on his forearm.

“Um,” Kihyun’s voice cracks slightly and he grimaces, “Can I help you?”

“Well, I’m working up on the second floor—” he starts.

“Oh my god, can you hear my music all the way up there?!” Kihyun interrupts before the man has a chance to finish, “I’m so sorry! My friends are always saying that I’m going to go deaf with how loud my music is. I can—” Kihyun cuts himself off when the man raises a hand.

“That’s not what I was going to say.” The man smiles and Kihyun nearly cries with how his face goes from stoic to adorable. “I was going to say that I was going for a walk to take my mind off my test in 5 hours when I saw your screen,” he gestures towards Kihyun’s laptop which has since gone dark. “Did you need help with your statistical analysis? Because I would love to help you.”

Kihyun is dumbstruck. He reaches out again, just to make sure this man was real. Then he pinches himself to make sure he isn’t dreaming. “God, this is due at 10 am and I would love some help.” Kihyun mutters. "My name is Kihyun."

The man smiles once again, his eyes crinkling shut, “My name is Hyunwoo. I have to grab my stuff I’ll be right back.”

Once Hyunwoo was gone, Kihyun scrambled for his phone to text Hyungwon. <em>A gorgeous man just offered to help me with statistical analysis. I think I’m in love and I can die happy.</em>

Kihyun stacked most of his shit to make room for Hyunwoo. Just as he is puzzling through a page that looks more like doodles than notes, Hyunwoo sets his stuff down next to Kihyun.

Kihyun wakes his screen up and from the questioning look from Hyunwoo, simply shrugs his shoulders. “I have no idea what I’m doing at all.”

“Well,” Hyunwoo switches from the spreadsheet to Kihyun’s paper, “Kihyun, you are in luck, I had this class two years ago with this same professor. The data is different but I can tell you that she won’t like the way your report is formatted at all.”

Hyunwoo makes quick work of the formatting while Kihyun stares dumbfounded. Hyunwoo has switched back to Kihyun’s spreadsheet and the data he has collected when his forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Where did you get this data? No offense, but it’s kind of shitty.” When Kihyun starts to explain what he did, Hyunwoo shakes his head, “Yeah that’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

Before Kihyun can question him, Hyunwoo starts walking him through how he should have generated the data.

“Now you have these price points to run a regression and you just have to interpret the equation for how the two data sets relate to each other.” Hyunwoo looks at Kihyun. “Make sense?”

Kihyun looks at the regression Hyunwoo ran and blinks, “Not at all. Where do you get an equation from that and what do any of these numbers mean?”

“How have you made it this far in the semester?” Hyunwoo mutters under his breath before he starts explaining what the different parts of the regression mean and what to do with all the numbers.

Sometime around 4 am, everything clicked and started making sense, “Alright no offense, but I need you to shut up so I can write before I lose all coherence and understanding.”

Hyunwoo nods and returns to his own notes to study for his exam. The two work in silence until Kihyun hits a wall. “Wait, can you explain this part to me again?” Hyunwoo looks where Kihyun is pointing and nods before setting into an explanation.

Kihyun is furiously taking down notes so he doesn’t forget again while Hyunwoo watches on, “Why are you in a business statistics class as a linguistics major?”

“Dumbass friend recommended it as an easy elective and I didn’t even consider the fact that Minhyuk is a double major in mathematics and business.” Kihyun mutters. “At least Hyungwon is in my class, even if he’s also a business major.”

Instead of trying to continue the conversation, Hyunwoo hums in acknowledgement and returns to his studying.

Somehow, Kihyun makes it all the way to the end of his paper without needing any additional explanation.

Hyunwoo groans at 6:30, dropping his head onto the table and mirroring Kihyun’s position from several hours earlier, “7 am is really too early for a test.”

Wordlessly, Kihyun pulls his last energy drink out of his backpack and sets it in front of Hyunwoo, barely stopping his typing.

“No, I can’t take this.” Hyunwoo tries to protest, “You’ll need it for your classes today.”

Kihyun pauses his typing, saving his work. “I only have the one class today at 10 and there’s going to be places open then on campus, I can buy another one. There is nothing open now. Just take the energy drink as thanks for helping me.” He is so focused on finishing his report that Kihyun doesn’t notice the way Hyunwoo’s eyes crinkle up into a smile again.

Hyunwoo begins packing up his study materials and Kihyun has turned his music up again with more people coming into the library at the more normal hour. When Hyunwoo leaves, Kihyun absentmindedly wishes him luck, busy proofreading his report.

Just as Hyunwoo is getting out of his test, Kihyun hits submit on his report and data, holding his breath until the confirmation screen appears. Once it does appear, Kihyun saves all his material from the project and closes each one. He looks at his phone, seeing that Hyungwon had been awake during his love declaration but less than helpful. Minhyuk texted at 6:45 cursing 7 am tests and complaining that they should get coffee together. His roommate texted only 2 minutes ago that his hook up left and Kihyun can come back to the room. Kihyun scoffs and ignores him, responding an affirmative to Minhyuk about coffee and telling Hyungwon he didn’t die and his statistics angel explained everything so he was able to finish his project with 2 hours to spare.

As he is shuffling through papers so he can pack up and meet Minhyuk at the coffee shop just off campus, Kihyun notices a smaller note with a phone number.

 <em>Text me and maybe I can explain statistics at a more reasonable time :) -Hyunwoo</em>

Kihyun blinks and regrets giving his last energy drink to Hyunwoo because now he’s not sure if he’s hallucinating. Who knows how long he would have sat there if Minhyuk hadn’t texted him wondering where he is and why he isn’t at the coffee shop.

Immediately shoving all his notes and his computer into his backpack and Hyunwoo’s note into his back pocket, Kihyun briskly walks out of the library, letting Minhyuk know he’ll be there soon.

Adding Hyunwoo’s number to his phone, Kihyun opens a new message, <em>Hey, it’s Kihyun. Thanks for basically teaching me the first half of the semester last night. Just name a time and place and I’ll bring my notes.</em>

Upon reaching the coffee shop, Kihyun doesn’t see Minhyuk anywhere. Just as he’s about to text him, hands from behind cover his eyes. “Guess who?”

Kihyun turns around, “Minhyuk if you aren’t here don’t text me like you are.”

Minhyuk pouts at him, “I just wanted to make sure you would get here without making me wait too long. You’ve done it before.”

Kihyun groans, “It was one time!”

Minhyuk huffs, “It still happened.”

“If you’re trying to guilt me into buying you coffee it won’t work.” Kihyun steps up to order his own coffee before stepping aside for Minhyuk, “I do have some news to share though.”

Minhyuk nearly lights up and quickly orders his coffee and pulls Kihyun to an empty booth. “Tell me. Quickly too because I’ve got a classmate coming to discuss a project.”

“Okay so you know that hell statistics project that Hyungwon and I had due today that we weren’t supposed to start the night before?”

Minhyuk groans, “Kihyun I warned you about this!”

“I know!”

Before Kihyun can continue the story his and Minhyuk’s names are called. Kihyun rises to get the coffee because no matter how much of a hurry he claims to be in, Minhyuk always chats up the barista.

“Okay so as I was saying,” Kihyun continues, “I started it last night and then my roommate sexiled me so I had to go to the library. I got the first part done and then considered concussing myself but an angel descended from the second floor and helped me with everything and I got it done and statistics makes sense now! He gave up time to study for a 7 am test to help me.” Kihyun looks dreamily out the window, “He was a statistics angel. I think I’m in love Minhyuk.”

“Does your statistics angel have a name?”

“Hyunwoo,”

“Hmm,” Minhyuk hums. He looks over Kihyun’s shoulder, “Hi, Hyunwoo-hyung.”

The force that Kihyun turns his head should have given him whiplash. True to Minhyuk’s greeting, there stood Hyunwoo. He seems to have gone home after his and Minhyuk’s test. He’s wearing a different sweatshirt and a beanie over his hair. Most noticeable is his lack of glasses.

Kihyun feels his face heat up, “How much of that did you hear?”

“You think I’m a statistics angel?”

Kihyun puts his face in his folded arms while Minhyuk cackles. Hyunwoo taps the table like he did in the library so many hours ago. Kihyun looks up reluctantly, “Can I suffer my embarrassment in peace?”

Hyunwoo smiles and Kihyun tries very hard not to swoon. “No because I was ready to text asking if you wanted to go on a date that didn’t involve statistics.”

(“Wait, Hyunwoo-hyung when did you get so smooth? Stop asking my friend out and teach me your ways!”

“Minhyuk we have a project to work on.”)

[ofhoneyandrosepetals]

Aarhus Universitet - Ansuz Raido Ravens (5)

Pairing: Modern!Ivar x reader

Description: Y/N is a freshman in Aarhus University and, being the roommate of both Torvi and Margrethe, that gives her some privileges and intel on the university, as it on the leading fraternity as well, Ansuz Raido Ravens, the Ragnarssons’ fraternity. Eventually, she gets engaged up with Ivar, who happened to gather a suspicious reputation among girls.

Warnings: swearings, violence and triggering content.

Word count: 5.332

A/N: due to Tumblr’s links problems (that sincerely I don’t know if it’s fixed already), you can catch up with the fic in my masterlist, which is in my bio!

You were getting ready for Hvitserk’s birthday party, combing your hair when Margrethe entered the room. Even if you haven’t looked at her, you could tell that something was wrong with her - you could feel it.

“All cool?” You asked her casually, getting back to your hair. There wasn’t much you could do anymore but leave it that way. Your hair wasn’t a thing that you cared about that much, especially for a party; you only wanted it to look clean and nice.

It was looking clean and nice.

“No, it’s not all cool,” you sensed some mocking in Margrethe’s tone. You turned at her.

“What…” you try to start a question, but the hushed you.

“You are…” you felt a tremble of panic on her voice. “You are pregnant of his child,” she whispered the pregnant word and you froze. How could Margrethe know? “How could you?”

You made a quick mental list of who knew about that whole drama: you, Ivar, possibly all his brothers, Torvi…

“Torvi told you, didn’t she?” You ask harsh, jaws clenched.

“Damn straight, she did! What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking, okay?” You snap at her, feeling a storm inside of you. What was Torvi’s purpose on telling Margrethe this? “I wasn’t. I just slipped, and so did Ivar, but I’m not pregnant, Margrethe. I’m not,” you watched as her eyes changed.

“Even so…” she was whispering. “How could you do that to me? I tried to warn you…”

“I know, babe, and I’m so sorry,” you get up and try to reach for her, but she pushed you away.

“Don’t call me like that, and don’t come any closer,” you did as she asked. She was biting her lips. “She’s trying to mess with my head,” Margrethe cried out as she sat on her bed.

“Who?” You sat on your ankles and touched her knees.

“Don’t touch me!” She shoved your hand out of her knee. “Who do you think? Torvi, of course!” She covered her face with her hands. “How could you do that to me, knowing what happened?”

“I never had the intention to hurt you, Margrethe, I mean it…” she shook her head. “And… I don’t mean to sound like a bitch, but it’s my life…”

“I was trying to help you!” She uncovered her face. “When you first came in, I liked you! I thought that maybe I could have a friend in this hell place…” she sighed.

“And you have.”

“No, I’m all alone. Ivar terrified me; he still does. Stay away from him, Y/N, he’s bad news.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” you said gently, smiling without happiness.

“I…” Margrethe tried to start. “I want you to keep distance from me. Please. This whole shit isn’t healthy for me, it’s toxic, and I want distant from all of this.”

You got her point, she was right. This whole situation was toxic, especially for her. You were toxic. And Ivar too. And Torvi. And all that environment. You don’t dare to tell her that you talked with Ivar about their situation, otherwise she would have accused you of protecting him, of being on his side.

And maybe she would be right.

You nod at her wish and your phone starts ringing; it’s Ivar. You get up, taking a deep breath.

“I hope everything goes good for you, Margrethe. I really do. But I’m the type of person…” she raised a hand.

“I don’t really wanna hear it. You should go to your party, I’ll be okay.”

You nodded and left the room.

*

You and Ivar were walking to his place while you told him what just happened. You saw he wasn’t feeling touched for Margrethe’s situation.

“They always disliked each other, but we never knew why,” he said in a logical tone. “Maybe they don’t work together to share the same room and that started it, or maybe it’s Ubbe, I can’t tell,” he shrugged. “But that doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does! Torvi made Margrethe turn against me, and she got a reason for that. And I wanna know why,” you said determined.

“You like her, don’t you? Why?” You shrugged.

“I don’t know, I just do. I kinda… feel a little pity about her.”

“So you want to protect her.”

“Maybe it’s that. She looks so vulnerable in this place, like a gazelle among lions.”

“Did you just called me a lion?” Ivar looked at you, hungry eyes and a cocky smirk.

“Oh, I did,” you pecked his lips. You could already see Ivar’s place and hear the loud music.

“I think I gotta something to tell ya.”

“What do you mean with ‘I think’?”

“I know you had drinking problems and I don’t know your position on drugs, but…” Ivar scratched the back of his head, as he thought on how to deliver you the news.

“But?” You pressured.

“You see, Hvitserk’s birthday party is a little bit different than the freshmen’s…”

“How different?” Ivar bit his lower lip and frowned his nose.

“The freshmen’s party is kinda related to college - the council - directly, so we gotta keep the drugs low profile for people to buy it. But when it’s Hvitserk’s birthday party, he bears all the drug costs, so what I’m trying to tell is for you not to freak when you see waiters around serving blow, weed, all kinda meth shit.”

You froze when Ivar told you that. You could handle the alcohol, but drugs were another section of your mind and body.

“You brought me to a fucking triggering party,” you whispered not looking at him, but around.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I forgot to tell you earlier…”

“But I agreed to come, didn’t I?” You said abruptly.

“What you mean?”

“It would be… all on me, not on you. I can make my own decisions, I can handle the consequences.”

“I don’t want you to get all fucked up.”

“I’ll be alright. Let’s go,” you got his hand and started walking.

You didn’t want Ivar to feel guilty or whatever shit; that was his life. He was a drug dealer, he had a drug empire at college, and you couldn’t change that. Of course you had a choice, but you chose to be with him, meaning that you would be around shit like that, and it depended on you, not Ivar, if you wanted to get drowned by it. You made a choice and, among and between that choice, you had a lot more to take.

As you got closer to the house you could see the colourful smoke all around the place, dense, the heavy music pouding fitting the view. Ivar opened the door without knocking on  it. When he opened it you saw that a girl was hired to open the door, and she was about to do her work, worried that Ivar hadn’t knock, dismissing her work.

“Don’t worry, I’m hosting it, you don’t have to open it for me,” she nodded, focused on her job, closing the door.

“Why can’t you sit?” You heard someone screaming over the music, trying to be heard. It was Hvitserk, completely wasted - already.

“Dude, what you’re doing?” Ivar asked him.

“Trying to tell her that she can sit! She’s like that for hours - don’t you ever get tired?” He directed the last part of his sentence to the girl. She ignored him like a robot. “C’mon, sit, why don’t you sit?”

“Bro, are you alright? What have you used?”

Hvitserk ignored Ivar and went to get a chair, coming back with it on his hands. He placed it beside the girl and was pushing her down by her shoulders, trying to make her sit.

“C’mon man, leave her alone, let her do her job, she was hired for that.”

“Yeah, I know, but she can sit, right?”

“She was trained for that, you dumbass, she won’t sit.”

Hvitserk pointed a finger to Ivar, then that same finger pointed to the girl. “You can sit whenever you want, honey. That chair won’t go anywhere,” she ignored him.

“Hey,” you started at Hvit. “Happy birthday, man,” his eyes wide opened as he realized it was his birthday.

“Oh, right, yeah! Thanks, cool chick!” He hugged you tight. “What can I get ya? We have Jell-O shots - with father’s special -, we have father’s special, vodka, beer, whiskey, liquor, all kinda drinks, we have dope…”

“I’ll just… walk around…” you dismissed drunk Hvitserk and pressed Ivar hand once to tell him that you were cool. You two split and you started to wander. You could hear Hvit saying to Ivar: “Man, that new crank I got? I’m way too high up the sky, that shit’s good! I’m fucking hallucinating, people are gonna love it!”

You hoped with all your strength that all the booze was drug free, because whatever Hvitserk had taken, you didn’t want it. His eyes were red, injected, his pupils dilated. You could say it was terrifying.

You found the Jell-O shots and took one, the familiar taste of Ragnar’s special drink. You took one more before asking the bartender for a Cosmo and started wandering around again.

People danced around you by the heavy music, people played beer pong, people played strip poker, people were betting and people were doing lines and more lines of coke. Sometimes you would see waiters serving ecstasy and LSD.

You took a deep breath.

I can control myself, I can stay out of this, you tried to calm yourself down. You weren’t really into crank - anymore, you hoped -, but it wasn’t that easy to control yourself when you were surrounded by it.

As the lights went on and off and the smoke got lighter in some spots, you could see Torvi in the middle of a hundred bodies, dancing closely to Ubbe. She dropping it down close to him, almost giving him a blowjob, then going up again, rubbing her body, her tits, on him. His hands were all over her body, her ass and boobs. You watched them a bit while you sipped your drink.

Torvi’s reasons on turning Margrethe against you, that’s what you were thinking about as you watched Torvi and Ubbe in the crowd.

The house was dark except for the heavy dark lights, red and blue, flashing.

“Hey,” you hear someone saying behind you. You turn to see a waiter serving joints. You looked at the skin and the weed inside of it. You pressed your lips against each other.

A flood of Manhattan memories came over your mind, and you wondered if the weed would make some effect - in the beginning it was like hell, but as time passed, you didn’t felt much things anymore, and you needed more if you wanted to get higher. You took a joint without thinking about the consequences and quickly forgetting how you got when you started to smoke it.

It’s been years, actually, since you stopped it, but you truly believed you wouldn’t be that bad.

“Do you have a lighter?” You screamed over the waiter. He handed you a black Zippo.

“Take it,” he screamed back. You smiled at him thankfully and lit it. You puffed. The taste felt familiar, yet a bit different. You puffed deeply as you saw the white dense smoke.

One joint wouldn’t hurt, right?

A little bit more of alcohol wouldn’t hurt, right?

A single line wouldn’t hurt, right?

You were used to it, it wouldn’t hurt, of course it wouldn’t. It was your choice. What could go wrong? You were used to all of it. Your body was used to it.

The dark flashing lights and the colourful dense smoke weren’t doing any good to your burning neurons. People’s shapes were changing. More people kept appearing. Sometimes disappearing. What you saw it wasn’t exactly what you saw and at some point a plant got too much of your attention. You felt heavy, ethereal.

You asked a waiter for water, and after you drank it you felt a bit better. “Do you have any candy?” You asked him. You weren’t yourself anymore, at least not your current self; you were the self from Manhattan.

You were the girl who got way too wasted and killed a guy.

The waiter showed up with your candy, a pink little heart. You smiled at him and put it in your pocket, texting Ivar. I need you, now, you texted.

Ivar took some time to find you, but he did it.

“You okay?” He asked worried.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, moving your body at the music’s rhythm.

“I’m fine,” you said smiling. “And I want you.”

“Okay,” he said carefully, a hand on your waist as the other was caressing your cheek. “What did you take?”

“What?” His voice was fading.

“What did you take?!” You laughed.

“I smoked, Ivar. I smoked and now everything is twisted.”

“Okay. What else?” Ivar could tell when people took more than one shit, of course; it was all his job.

“Blow.”

“You shitting me, right?” You shook your head.

“I don’t feel like that for years, Ivar. I feel awesome.”

“Awesome will be if you don’t od.”

“I never oded, Ivar, and I took way more than that back at US. Now join me,” you took the candy out of your pocket, showing it to Ivar.

Anyone could tell that he was trying to fight the urge to take it, but being surrounded by all of that was turning it a difficult task.

“We could split it! We won’t even feel it!” You said.

“So what’s the point if we won’t get high?” Ivar asked.

“C’mon…!” You put the candy between your teeth and bit it. Ivar took the other half, carefully, as he deeply kissed you.

The music got louder and your arms got tighter around him. You put one leg around his thigh and Ivar got you by your ass and pulled you up, so you could place your legs around his waist.

Holding you by your ass, the kiss grows deeper as your body moves against Ivar’s by the music. You feel him groan as he squeeze your ass and you tighten your legs around him.

“I’m gonna need you to come a little down so you can make that little dance over my cock, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips and you nod, your legs going to his waist from his hips. People were dancing around you as you were making out. Ivar was moving, trying to find somewhere where he could place your back against.

Your hands were wandering under his shirt, feelings the strong muscles of his back and chest, his smooth and hot skin against your fingers.

You felt Ivar’s phone vibrating on his pocket, but both of you ignored it, but whoever was calling, they were insisting.

“I should probably get it,” he said out of breath on your neck and you sighed, rolling your eyes. Ivar pressed you more against the wall so you wouldn’t need to come down.

You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but all that make out session definitely got you a little sober - it fucking won the drugs.

Ivar looks at you with eyes that you have never met, saying: “I gotta go.”

*

You insisted to go with Ivar; he resisted a bit but his boner let you go with him.

Now all the Ragnarssons were reunited at the pantry - a space way too little for all four big guys and you. Torvi wasn’t with Ubbe.

“Magnus plans a hit on us tonight,” Sigurd started.

“How do you know?” Ubbe asked.

“Connections, you moron,” Sigurd says impatiently.

“Why tonight?” Hvitserk asks drinking of his water, a quick way of getting sober. It wasn’t working that much, but at least he wasn’t acting like an animal.

“Because they would get us off guard. You got any more intel?” Ivar asks Sigurd.

“It’s not a big group, six guys maybe.”

“I think they will try to blend with the crowd so we won’t notice them,” Ubbe says.

“Six guys is a low number for a hit,” Hvit comments.

“Not if they don’t want to harm anyone who’s not involved. It’s a low profile hit. One guy for each of us, and two more backups. They’re counting on Hvitserk being completely wasted, so one guy could handle him. Sigurd’s not as big as us, so one big guy could do it. The backups would be for me and Ubbe.”

“The Big Ubbe,” Ubbe said cocky.

“And Violent Ivar,” he said with deadly eyes.

“What shit is that, some kind of street name?” You ask.

“We hacked their system some time ago and we found their archives on us,” Sigurd explained. “We discovered that the “Violent Subject” is Ivar; Big is Ubbe; Junkie is Hvitserk and I’m the Little.”

“Subjects?” You mocked.

“They’re from the technology college, they like to show off,” Hvitserk said.

“And what do they want?” You asked.

“Our drug empire,” Ivar said, pulling out his Glock 42 and checking for ammo. “They’re gonna need more than two men to stop me.”

You tremble at the sight of his gun.

“Do you… I never saw that you carry a gun with you,” you said carefully.

“Yeah, I pack all the time, I need to; but not with you around. I didn’t want you to be anywhere near guns, but…”

“But I’m with you and that means I’ll be around them.”

“Unfortunately. I was expecting something like that for tonight, they’ve be holding themselves down for quite some time. I’m sorry if you don’t like it…”

“No, I’m cool,” you wave a hand at him.

“I want you to be here, close to Ubbe,” Ivar asked as he put his gun on his back again. “Ubbe’s gonna stay here to make sure nothing happens. I’ll take Sigurd with me.”

“What about me?” Hvitserk asked.

“Man, are you serious?” Sigurd said to his brother.

“Yeah, of course.”

“You hold your shit together,” Ivar pointed a finger to Hvitserk. “Go check if that girl sat,” Hvitserk’s eyes shined and he got out of the pantry.

“What was that?” Ubbe asked.

“Nothing important, just Hvit being Hvit. C’mon, Sigurd,” and so Ivar and Sigurd left the pantry, but not before Ivar kissed you and whispered that he would be back soon.

You and Ubbe were left alone, meaning that you would be around Torvi, and that wouldn’t end well.

“Do I have to be by your side all the time, like…?” Ubbe started to laugh and shook his head.

“Nah, go have some fun, I got it. I was prepared for something too, that girl at the door isn’t a simple girl. She’ll hold any shit until I get there.”

You nod as you went back to dance with all that strange people.

Some good minutes had passed and, at some corner, you saw women writhing around a pole.

If at least Ivar was here…, you thought to yourself.

Then, keeping a watchful eye at the poles, you see someone familiar. Of course that woman was Torvi, upside down and legs all up.

You couldn’t tell if it was the curious and angry side of your brain talking or if it was all that drug, but suddenly you felt an urge to discover why she made Margrethe turn against you. You cared for that chick and she didn’t deserve all that shit.

You get to the pole near to Torvi and ask the girl there if you could try it out. She smiled and nodded. You passed by at pole dance - perks of a past life in Manhattan - and screamed over to Torvi.

“Hey!” She looked surprised at you.

“Y/N? Hey, girl, what’s up? I didn’t know you were coming! And I definitely didn’t know you knew how to pole dance; that’s so cool!” She was way too drunk, you could easily tell.

“Wanna grab some drinks?”

“Yeah, why not?”

You two headed to the bar, Torvi babbling all the way. While she ordered for her drink, you start: “You know, when I decided to come to Aarhus, I had no idea I would be dealing with nosy people. Especially bitchy nosy people,” Torvi looks at you with the corner of her eye.

“Is that supposed to be directed to me?”

“That’s exactly directed to you, sweetie,” you get closer to her when she turn around with her drink, her back touching the bar. Torvi can feel the tension coming from you. “I’m just missing one point in all that pregnancy story.”

“What pregnancy story?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you slap her, her face turning to the right. Some people around looked at you two, but nobody really cared. The bartender ignored you two. “You know what I’m talking about, you’re the reason why Ivar knew and you’re the reason that Margrethe asked me to keep distance from her,” Torvi started laughing.

“So all of this is about Margrethe? Really? Why do you care for that dumb bitch anyway?” You get Torvi’s drink from her hand and throw it through the bar, the glass hitting the wall behind her, then you pushed her against the bar, hitting her.

“You had no right to tell your boyfriend that you saw the positive test in the trash that day,” you said pulling her by the collar of her glittering shirt. “And you had no right to tell Margrethe about it too. It was my shit to handle, not yours,” your nose was almost touching hers. She didn’t say a word. “What’s that shit between you two, huh?”

“Not of your business,” she tried to shove you off but you grabbed her by her hair.

“It is of my business in the moment it affected me. This quarrel of yours affected me, Margrethe was my friend and now she’s gone.”

“It’s not of your business, you crazy bitch!” She cried out trying to get your hand out of her hair. You slapped her again and grabbed her chin so she could look at you.

“Why did you tell her?” You said slowly in a low voice. Torvi’s eyes were terrified; you were scaring her. She said nothing. “Why did you tell her?” You screamed. She closed her eyes as she talked.

“I want her to go! Okay? I want her to leave my room, but she wouldn’t go because of you! I saw, I knew how close you two were getting and, if you two became friends, she would never leave!”

“Why?” You said in shook.

“Isn’t it obvious? She hates me because I took her place! She hates me because I got to be Ubbe’s exclusive, she wants to take my place! That’s so obvious! She goes around campus and badmouth them, waiting for me and for other girls to get away from them so she could have all of them just to herself!”

“You’re crazy,” you whisper. “Margrethe doesn’t want anything to do with these guys, she hates them…”

“And of course you believe in her story.”

“I’m not pregnant, okay? You started this whole shit over a lie, a misunderstood. You’re a self-centered bitch, Torvi, do you realize that? Margrethe needs to go not because you hate her, but because of what you’ve done to her. She’s miserable now, and she needs to leave to get a new fresh start. For herself. She needs to leave for herself, and not for you. You just… you get your shit together and stay away from me,” you give her you back and starts walking away when she says out loud: “Get my shit together? I’m the one who got attacked! You know what? You and Ivar deserve each other, you’re perfect, you’re two murderous…”

That word messed with your nerves. She was offending not only you, but Ivar. You turned, looking at her eyes. “What did you say?” You started getting closer.

“Nothing,” her voice trembled.

“Nothing? So now you don’t get the guts to tell that to my face? You’re such a coward… I want you to repeat it.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, you crazy bitch…” and that was enough. You don’t know how you did it, but you lifted Torvi to the bar, making all the bottles and glasses to drop on the floor. You get on top of her, holding her with your knees as you searched for something in your pocket. “You’re gonna fucking regret it.”

You pulled out what left of your joint. Torvi was lifting her head but you drop it down back on the bar with strength. Holding her head, you say: “You’re gonna eat my fucking joint, you cunt!”

You forced the joint down her throat, making her gasp. She was grabbing your arms, but you’re stronger. You punched and slapped her, and if someone asked why you were doing this, you weren’t sure if the whole gossip and Margrethe situation was a good  excuse for such behavior.

But no one stopped you.

And so you kept hitting her.

*

Ivar was back with Sigurd, complaining about the situation.

“What the fuck was that? Was that supposed to be a hit? Magnus wasn’t even there and they ran like headless chickens,” Sigurd laughed.

“Yeah dude, maybe they had other intentions. If it was a hit, or a big one, I think that would be a big shit.”

“Maybe it was a distraction,” Ivar stopped.

“No, it wasn’t a distraction. If it was, it would went down pretty different. You could tell by their eyes, they were outnumbered in forces.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Let’s get inside by the back, okay?”

Ivar passed through the pool, hoping to see you there. People were playing some basketball under the water, girls on boys’ shoulders. Hvitserk lowered his guard and was now in the middle of the Chicken Wings Challenge: 20 hot chicken wings in 120 seconds.

“Up for a swing?” Sigurd asked him. Ivar looked baffled.

“A swing? Really?” Sigurd nodded. “Sig, my bro, trust me when I say this,” Ivar’s arm was resting on Sigurd’s shoulder. “You don’t want my girl. You wouldn’t keep up with her,” Sigurd shoved Ivar’s arm off.

“Fuck you, Boneless,” he said laughing. “I’ll just ask Ubbe, then,” and Sigurd left, screaming over his shoulder: “You have blood on your eyebrow, by the way!”

Ivar tried to clean the blood when he felt a little more concentrate crowd, and not a dancing one. He sensed trouble.

He followed the screams and the view got him surprised.

Y/N on top of Torvi, at the bar, fighting.

“I go out for one hour and that happens?” He says to himself. Ubbe shows up, losing his shit.

“You better control your pussy,” Ivar gave Ubbe a petty look.

“I don’t think I have one, brother,” he said tapping his cock.

“You know what I meant, now go break those two apart.”

“Why? I don’t want to; let them fight. Everyone knows that girls fighting are a bad thing by people’s eyes, we should let them have some fun.”

“Y/N will kill Torvi!” Ivar’s features turned harsh and his tone got deadly.

“In that case, we should let them continue.”

“What? Ivar, are you crazy?” Ivar kept his eyes on his girl and Torvi. “I tried to take Y/N out of there, I can’t!”

“And if you, Big Subject, can’t do anything, what can the little Boneless do?” Ubbe sighed.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m unbelievable?” Ivar turned to Ubbe, furious. “I just risked my ass out there to stop a possible hit while you got to be here and have all the fun. Maybe next time I’ll let us be all fucked up by Magnus, what you think of that?”

“I think you’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting?”

“Little Ivar overreacting, as he always did.”

“You say that again,” Ivar pushed Ubbe by his chest.

“Little Ivar overreacting, as he always did,” Ubbe repeated. Ivar nodded with pressed lips and punched Ubbe’s head, wrapping his arms around his neck and making him turn down, punching his stomach.

People around them started to cheer and that got your attention. You looked over the noise, briefly forgetting about Torvi, to see Ivar and Ubbe all tangled together, fighting too.

Getting advantage on this, Torvi pushes you and you two fall on the floor. You reminded of Torvi and hit her head against the floor, making her body stops and her eyes shut. Your eyes are wide open and you don’t feel any more response coming from her. “Torvi?” You try. Nothing. You shake her shoulder. Nothing too. You try to hear her heartbeat: it was there.

“Oh god,” you mumble and get distant from Torvi. You made her pass out. “What did I do?” You started crying, not being able to breath.

You get up, hands up your chest. All you wanna do now is leave. Getting to the entrance hall, you see the door girl and the chair at her side. “Are you going to use that chair? No, right?” You ask her and sit. “I feel that I can’t breath,” the door girl looks at you.

“What are you feeling?” She asks professionally.

“I feel like I’m fucking panicking and I can’t breath,” you said desperately.

She started to make breathing exercises with you which, after some time, helped you to get better. You saw Sigurd running through the house and after a couple of minutes the cheering noise stopped.

“What happened?” You asked the girl.

“I don’t know. Are you okay? Are you feeling better now?” You nod. “Okay, good. Just rest, I’ll come back in a minute.”

She came back with a glass of a water. You thanked her and sipped the liquid, slowly.

And then Ivar came in, a bloody mess.

His hair was loose and messed, his knuckles were bruised and he got blood on his eyebrow, nose and lips, all cracked open. You got up in a jump and went for him to hug him. “Ivar!” You sighed against his chest.

“Come, let’s go to my room.”

You gave the door girl a thankful look and she smiled at you.

*

Ivar was sleeping by your side, quite peacefully, his chest going up and down in smooth moves. Once you two were in his room, he helped you clean yourself and you helped him. He told about Magnus hit - or the lack of it - and you him about your fight. “Don’t take it too seriously, you were high, it was the meth talking.” You wanted to believe in his words, god knows you wanted to.

But that was just you.

A fuck up.

He told you about his fight with Ubbe. “Just a normal shit, that happens a lot.”

Once you two were clean from all the sweat, dirt and blood, Ivar took the big spoon spot and held you close to him, you letting his body heat take care of you.

“I’m so sorry for that, I’m a fuck up,” you whispered kissing his knuckles.

“I’m a fuck up too.”

You two were silent for minutes and more minutes before you asked him: “What will happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Ubbe and Torvi.”

“With Ubbe it doesn’t matter, we always fight, it’s not a big deal. But Torvi? Damn, you showed her a point, she’ll definitely be out of your way. Maybe she will even move out.”

“Will she… press charges?”

“What? No, she’s not crazy; we can’t have police involved, mainly in an event like tonight. The INCB and SKAT would have a fucking party, really. Don’t worry, you’re safe. Though she’ll probably move out, but it’s fine, really. Don’t worry about that, you need to rest.”

You wanted to ask Ivar one more thing, but he fell asleep. And you couldn’t do the same.

Taglist:  @mblaqgi @akamaiden @dangerousvikings @oddsnendsfanfics @deepdarkred @irishhiggins @tinypuppysoul @kingbouji3 @i-war-s-boner @capitanostella @loothbrok @noaor @thehuntress26 @sassymcgonagal1651 @hoodirwin5 @attorneyl @collecting-stories @certainobservationwasteland @dreams-in-different-colours @3x5gurl @readsalot73 @thisisparadisemylove @action-adventure-and-cheesecake @titty-teetee @cutiedaij @austenkingmylady @ivarthesweetheart @golden-pickaxe @lokis-sunflower-anna @bill-istvan @cynthianokamaria @hallowed-heathen @fuckthatfeeling @huffelpuffers

[thefantasticm]

Establishing Angst in AGBM

I am by no means a master of angst or conveying tension, and a lot of the times some of what I write that affects people the most was completely incidental. But I do try, and meet varying degrees of success depending on the scene. Here are some dank tools/things/advice I use and constantly keep in mind in order to help crank up the FEELS, and can apply to pretty much anything if you want some ideas as to how to do so.

1. Showing and Telling First thing’s first: ‘Show, don’t tell’ is absolutely ATROCIOUS advice. It is vague and unhelpful and wrong. Some things must be told. If everything were shown, every story in the history of man would sink to the bottom of the ocean, weighed down by a bloated scrotum of tedium and pedantry. There must be a balance, and yes, showing should be favored, but never to an extreme. I personally aim for a 70:30 ratio when it comes to showing and telling in my writing. It is a good ballpark to aim for because landing at 60:40 is still fine and 80:20 is also perfectly readable. Falling to 50:50 and below is where things start to get... bad. Anything below will usually be noticeably boring to even unpracticed readers. When it comes to conveying angst and tension in writing, emotions are key (so Cage has the right idea, but his execution is... well). It is fine and good and proper to tell the reader what the character is feeling, in simple terms. Yet it is something that must be balanced, as we’ve established. It is not enough to say “Hank was sad.” We must say “Hank was sad ABLOOBLOOBLOO.” And by ABLOOBLOOBLOO, I mean describing the physicality of that reaction. We’ve all been sad before, know what it feels like, so describing that churning gut, that beating heart, that sinking feeling - all of it helps to establish that sadness, and can make the reader feel it in turn. Maybe Hank will lash out with that sadness in an unhealthy attempt at emotional release. Maybe he’ll think about wanting to drink, or holding his gun, etc - and describing all of that becomes a showing of where that emotion takes him, depressive, reactionary thoughts that the audience can relate to. I say all that, but it’s also sometimes okay to just say “Hank was sad” and leave it at that. Sparingly, mind you... And exactly when those moments are most appropriate is a whoooole different discussion. 2. Third Person Limited This is less advice and more... information, since something like this is really at the mercy of the writer. Everyone has different preferences for how they narrate a story. I personally despise first person narration, I adore second person (in short bursts, it’s hard to carry a longer story with it), third person objective can be interesting or the exact opposite, and third person omniscient... well. In my very humble opinion, there is no easier way to suck all the emotional tension out of a story. If you are trying to tell an emotional story, third person omniscient is just... heinous. It can be great for grand, sweeping adventure stories, but when trying to establish an angsty emotional creep? Noooo fucking thank you. Holding the audience’s hand when it comes to how every character is feeling, giving information too freely - what a great way to remove any and all emotional stakes! Pick a character. A. One (1). Beyond that character, there can be no ‘outsider’ information. Everything must come through that one character’s eyes. They can infer, they can guess, they can assume the feelings of other characters. They might even be right most of the time! But the audience must never be told this through any other means. Which is why... Keep the narrating character uninformed. Nothing can dispel tension faster than certainty. Emotional tension and angst is most readily mined in what is uncertain. And God, this is such a fucking pain in the ass with ROBOT characters - not impossible, but fuck, I digress. Hank’s emotional hang-ups and struggles become more real and relatable when he does not know what Connor is thinking - when he projects, when he guesses, when he assumes. Hank does not KNOW Connor is in love with him, he simply perceives it, and convinces himself it is true, and thus convinces the audience. They see only what he sees, what he observes, and even when Hank is oblivious to it at the start, the audience is given the room and space to fill in their own conclusions because Hank does NOT know everything, and so when Hank has his ‘realization,’ the audience is even more convinced than he is! Absolute 9000 IQ shit, I know (it’s not). And so when Hank falls away from what he convinced himself of, which is separate from what the audience knows, it’s a little... gut wrenching? No, Hank, don’t doubt it! He does love you! But Hank can’t hear your screams from where he is... And when he comes back to it, when it is far more obvious, it has a much stronger effect. Can you imagine how fucking boring that shit would be if Hank was absolutely 100% certain Connor loved him from start to finish? Jesus. However, it’s important to give the audience a bit more to work with than just everything the main character perceives. Bits and pieces that the audience will pick up on, that the main character technically observes, but is something they do not out and out notice or give much thought to. Not every insight can and should be shared between the main character and the audience. The audience should have just a bit more information that allows them to draw conclusions that characters in the story might not otherwise think of. Which leads us to... 3. Dramatic Irony Mmm... Dramatic irony is just... *chef kiss* Mwah! It is beautiful and glorious. This is what makes the collective sphincter of an audience shiver with fear. I would not say it is my bread and butter, and good angst needs it not, but when it comes to a hard hitting tragic turn of events, no tool will smack an audience in the face harder than dramatic irony. Quick rundown: Dramatic irony is when the audience knows something the characters do not. Some of the most memorable tragedies make use of dramatic irony. Romeo and Juliet? The audience knew Juliet was asleep, not dead, but Romeo... did not. Oedipus? We know that’s his mom... Oedipus... Oedipus no! Dramatic irony is so powerful because the audience is given time to sense the impending doom but they are powerless to do anything about it. They want to stop it, but cannot. Helpless to watch things go wrong. The cold sinking feeling of your heart dropping to your feet. Dramatic irony can be hard to handle, since it will have little to no effect if you cannot get the audience invested in the story and the characters. It is also difficult in the sense that it can become somewhat silly if it is made too obvious. If the feeling of ‘oh god, x is probably going to happen’ comes too soon, the tension when it happens will not be as strong. On the flip side, if it comes too late, or god forbid, it’s not picked up on at all, it will fall flat. Not saying I did it perfectly by any means, but I did try. If you are looking to pull any sort of twist, or just fuck with the audience in general, dramatic irony is a great way to do so, without being hamfisted and preachy, or sudden and purposeless (like Alice being an android).

4. Repetition This is also highly personal choice, but over the years in writing I’ve found that pieces in which I used repetition tended to have better reception than those that did not. Repetition, whether it’s purely through language (which is mostly what I do) or theme, can help really really really drive home a point or emotion to an audience. Repeating certain phrases. Or just one word. Maybe a character says something they said once in the beginning of the fic. Of course, all of this must be done in moderation, and the timing of it has to line up with whatever you are trying to convey to the audience. Sometimes the ‘thing’ you are trying to convey can even be nebulous and mysterious, but then the point becomes to make the audience think more about it, which makes them more invested, which makes the hurts a bit hurtier... I do this a lot by repeating questions. What would he change? How had they arrived at this point? Honestly when I put it out like this I feel a bit silly, and it doesn’t work for everyone, but it works for some, and that is what matters. Mostly... it works for me! 5. The Short Short Long ‘Something was holding him back, a lump lodging itself in his throat. He thought of Connor at home and the way he called him Hank, Hank, Hank. There was nothing unusual about it, but beneath Wilson’s scrutiny it felt private, it felt intimate, and Hank could not find it within himself to lay open something that all of a sudden felt so profoundly raw.’ ‘Connor was the one that was embarrassed. Intensely so, to the point it had rubbed off on Hank. This was not a situation he would normally give much thought to, but Connor’s reaction made him feel as if he had done something wrong, as if he had broken some unspoken trust between them; and as he stood there watching the android, so human in the smallest of ways, Hank felt dirty.‘ ‘Hank wasn’t sure whether he dreamt those words or not. It felt like he did, with the hazy dreams that followed. In them, it was not Hank who left, but Connor - the one that could not be held down by the words that boiled in Hank’s chest but lacked the strength to be spoken; the outline of his body as he stepped through the front door, bathed in sunlight, warping the vision of him until there was nothing left.’ ‘In what capacity? It didn’t matter, did it? Hank needed him and his chest felt light; how easy it was to admit it now, all of a sudden, as if the past ten days, those agonizing ten days, had never happened.’ ...Get it? I’m not sure if this actually does anything. But I like it, so I’m putting it in. Long Short Shorts are also valid. Really the idea is that the rhythm of the tension suddenly gets much faster in the final point, thus making it seem more desperate, and driving it home more. But. I could just be imagining things? Hmm... 6. What Remains Unsaid Sometimes a character will want to say something, but doesn’t. Or they’ll think something, but say something completely different. Or they will infer a hidden meaning, unspoken sentiment, from another character. The things that aren’t said should still be told to the audience! However you want to do it. As much as these things can work in comedy, so too can they work in angst. It’s a very simple thing, but this can serve to drive up the tension, and have the audience clench their teeth from it. Deceptively simple! The feeling of ‘just say it, dammit!’ is a near universal one and should not be ignored! 7. DURRRRRRRRRR MUH CLICHE There is no such thing as an ‘original’ story anymore. You can add your spins and your twists and your little tweaks, but the fact of the matter is that every ‘core’ of a story has already been written. There is NOTHING wrong with cliche. NOTHING. Themes and plots and twists that are common are common because they are usually effective. Anyone who insists otherwise is... as much as I’d like to call them stupid, I really would, what they need is to be educated. The reason people tend to shy away from ‘cliche’ is because when it is done poorly, it is often excruciating. It can be really awful. But one should not shy away from cliche for the fear of doing it poorly. Embrace it! Write it to the best of your ability! If a ‘cliche’ is where a story leads you, then it’s not wrong! Why did I include this? Because most of all this fear of cliche applies strongly to angst, sad tropes, tragedy, etc. After that? Fantasy adventure stories and romance. 8. The High Highs Angst is worthless without a counterweight. Personally I think I’m god awful at writing fluff, but you will never be able to write good angst if you can’t squeeze out some manner of happy scenes. And going back to point #1, you have to show at least one of these happy scenes. It doesn’t have to be over the top. It can even be bittersweet. Hope over happiness, in case you don’t want to go full joyous. Once you start really getting into the angst the happiness and the hope will likely start to diminish, but I say it is usually a good idea to leave ONE good upwards scene interspersed in there somewhere. My final hopeful scenes in AGBM were Connor returning from Washington DC, and to a lesser extent the beginning of their final argument. I used a lot of loaded language in that small span of time to make the drop-off even worse, but that is an entirely different post...

9. Never Reward Your Readers Never reward your readers. Never reward your readers! NEVER REWARD YOUR READERS!!!!

Tell your story how you think it should be told.

NEVER REWARD YOUR READERS.

10. Alliteration Doesn’t actually do anything. I just like it.

[thedeliverygod]

1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 16, 20, 28, 29, 37 for the ask fic meme!! :)

oh my god lol thank you

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

fluff. flufffluffflufffluff. I just tend to write cutesy romantic things with some comedy thrown in. 

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

coffee shop au lol. I made Kairi work in a coffee shop in my post-canon story but an au based off of it, I haven’t really had any good inspiration. I guess it doesn’t help that I don’t actually like coffee hahah. but I do like the atmosphere in coffee shops regardless. 

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

uuuuhhh I mean I’ve somewhat played with the idea of a Kimi no na wa/Your Name AU especially because of @paperypiper‘s art lol but other than that I don’t think I have many ideas floating around.

5. Share one of your strengths.

dialogue. always dialogue lolol. 

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

idk if you’d even consider this prose but idk I feel like I just really nailed Sora’s feelings of growing older here in a way that’s relatable but also heavily tied into the canon storyline as well

‘I can’t believe Ariel and Eric are married and have a baby now. I mean… it’s probably been at least four years since I’ve seen them, so it shouldn’t be too surprising.’ He let out a small sigh, closing his eyes, ‘Everyone’s been moving forward while I’ve just been stuck in place. Wonder how long it’ll take before I manage to catch up?’

There was no doubt that he was making progress back at home, but he’d still missed so much and he was never going to get that time back. That was what bothered him the most. As for his friends on other worlds, he supposed he was going to have to get used to feeling like he’d missed out on a lot. The more time he spent at home was less time that he spent out on other worlds and vice versa.

He let out a small laugh to himself, ‘It’s funny. Time was probably the last thing on my mind just a few years ago. Now I can’t stop thinking about it.’ He flopped over onto his stomach, ‘Maybe once I get used to “boring” life back at home again, time will go slower. Like what Donald was talking about.’

He hoped so.

Pushing himself back off the bed, he stood up and moved to the window. Sliding it open, he closed his eyes and inhaled, listening to the sounds of the ocean and the seagulls flying above as he remembered the words Riku said in the realm of darkness, ‘At least the waves sound the same.’

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

ooooh boy this one’s gonna be hard…

I think I’m gonna with this drabble where I sort of came up with the back story for the little table that block’s out Yukine’s light so Yato can sleep. I rarely like going back and “adding” scenes to canon but for some reason this one just felt right. And Yato hit me in the feels even though I wrote it myself lol.

Yukine inhaled sharply and felt his face start to get warm, “You more than any one should appreciate that, Yato. I’m trying to make up for everything I did but it won’t mean much if I have a master who goes around and does the same shit.”

Yato lowered the pillow, mumbling, “I get the point.” He picked it up and placed it back under his head, “And I do appreciate it.”

“But you won’t change.” The regalia turned over, his back to Yato.

“I’m trying.” He answered quietly, more to himself than to Yukine, “I really am.” After a minute of staring up at the ceiling, Yato finally slipped out from underneath his blanket and moved to the corner of the room.

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

I Can’t Quit You is really hard for me because of the nsfw content lol. But also Good Enough and I Can Barely Say have both had their difficult moments because I’m not always too familiar with the situations and feelings related to them that I write. Good Enough I also tried to do a lot of research about life/school/etc in Japan to make sure I can give somewhat of a sense of authenticity but I’m sure there’s some inaccuracies still. 

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

lol tbh I don’t think it’s ever easy. but Somewhere In Between, I somehow managed to crank out 15k words in 3 days which is more than I’ve like ever done in my life so I guess I’ll say that one.

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

yatori has taken over my life and I’m fine with that. The growth of their relationship and their familial roles with Yukine are just too pure and I love everything about them. 

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

being A L O N E (which hardly ever happens these days which is why I’m struggling), not having any responsibilities for at least a few hours (another thing that’s hard to come by these days), and a nice warm, sunny day. sometimes I’ll sit outside and write but sometimes it’s just nice to know that it’s nice outside lol. I often put on an old nostalgic movie to have on in the background as well. sometime i’ll do music, sometimes not.

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

@scarfblogs is amazing in everything; dialogue, description, ideas; everything is so good I cannot. also the best person I love her

@thatsnicebutimmarried‘s writing is just so whimsical and humorous and foidsjfsf. major inspiration for years and so glad to know her/that we reconnected through tumblr 

@hafuriyuki captures Yukine to perfection in both fanfics and RPs, but other characters as well. I always get hella excited when I see alerts from AO3 for updates because Nana’s works just always make me feel warm and fuzzy or left on the edge of my seat. 

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

okay realll talk idk if I would trust myself to do or not but one of my favorite unfinished stories is Simple and Clean by Candy-Mog. It’s probably one of the most re-read fanfics of my life lol. This was back in the day before Kingdom Hearts II, there were so many good fics that tbh canon KH2 was a bit of a let down lmao. but mannnn I loved this fic to pieces so if I had to choose one, it would be this one. 

37. Talk about your current wips.

just the 2 which you guys know about. The titanic AU I’m writing for the noragami big bang and the one based off “Quit” by Cashmere Cat ft. Ariana Grande. 1st is going to be more of a collection than a cohesive chapter-ed fanfic, 2nd is basically a smut fic with some feels and it’s going to take forever to write because I’m not too great at writing such things yet lol.

[ifartconfetti]

(idk if you want any number but imma send some anyway) 3, 16, 21, 35 & 45 for Magic (which verse is up to you I guess ?)

Isnt it a little to late to wonder if i answer random asks. Just. Yanno.  3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Family support is extremely important to him so I kinda don’t dare to give him anything but a good upbringing. Bc hes my boy and I don’t like characters being all sad. Especially since Magic has these issues of desperately needing attention and appreciation and if I took this from him from the start he would turn out to be a really desperate attention seeker from any source possible  with no selfworth. And that is harmful.

Most fond memories are related to Amra taking a day or two off to just have some exciting family activities and trips rolling. She works a lot, and he is a mommys boy so these memories are kind of sacred.

Bad memories would be invalidating related. Most of the time he just rolled with gender, but the moment he identified 100% as a guy his hobbies suddenly became too girlish, too flamboyant and kind of problematic. It’s kind of a bad experience for an early teen to have people suddenly treat you badly even though nothing really changed. Why is it suddenly bad that he isn’t a rowdy boy? Why is it suddenly bad to pay attention to your looks and care for your body? Why is it suddenly bad to like pink glitter nail polish? And that was a big contributor to why he was such a moodswingy clusterfuck his teen years. It was a weird limbo of wanting to get accepted by his peers at any cost and wanting to send a big fuck you to the world. 

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

Friendships. But that’s too easy lmao.Magic is generally not too big on material possessions, I mean he is the kind of kid who lost every figure of every boardgame he ever owned and grew up filthy rich. It’s not like he doesn’t appreciate it but when you have the option do get things at any given time they kinda lose their value.He’s a big hoarder in video games, especially with money. He’s big on MMOs and he has to make sure all of his characters look absolutely stunning. He’s the kind of max-level roleplayer guy who owns all the fancy shit somehow.He’s not too big on material possessions but he has a weakness for useless mundane stuff like bird feathers or seashells and he is embarassed to tell people about it so he mostly doesn’t. Hobbies that could get seen as weird and boring are locked away. He’s only loud about his flashy hobbies.

All the shit he collects like some kind of nature hoarder mostly gets forgotten after the trip it was collected at. He never really does anything with it, and especially doesn’t want to display it. It’s just the fun of collecting and finding sweet stuff.

He does have a weird knack for dumbass Tees and band tees. He also more or less collects these little festival arm ties. But these fall into the category of loud and flashy hobbies. 

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

Magic doesn’t really have bad temper. He might collide with other people when something “You said something that doesn’t bode with my ideals and that insulted me but you didn’t say it because you are mean-spirited” happens.  

Magic is not a very patient guy in general. He can be, especially when he wants something from someone. But with himself? Not really. I want to be good at that thing now and not learn it, geez. With other people he’s way more patient though.

When he seriously loses his temper it gets ugly really fast. He will take all the weaknesses he has collected from just observing and talking to you and try to backstab you with that knowledge. And the worst is that this is soemthing you can’t just fire back to because his skill is talking and he will talk over you. So you just have to deal with him ripping your entire confidence apart. But he’s mostly hot steam so when the other person looks seriously hurt something just ‘clicks’ and hes back to normal and realizes that he just lost his entire shit and is sorry. But it takes a lot to make him go that way. 

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

His guilty pleasure kind of plays into his useless items collecting habit. Oh and he also picks his skin and gets a disgusting satisfasction from popping zits of blackheads. He knows he shouldnt. But. He also probably enjoyed the Twilight series, which is a sin in itself.Pop music isn’t really a guilty pleasure bc he’s not afraid to crank it up to any goddamn overplayed pop song. 

His unguilty pleasure is sex. He likes it, he’s not afraid to ask for it. He has no real shame regarding questions about it. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about the social stigma. It doesn’t have to be as complicated as people make it be, yanno.45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

Depending on the other people’s personality he either is someone who can sympathize with without even really knowing him or he is the most annoying piece of shit they know. You know, he has a kind of Youtuber personality? He acts like he wears his heart on his sleeve, which he really doesn’t, but you just have to make people believe that you do. 

He’s a total socializer who manages to never tell too much about himself. You know the entire fear of getting rejected for who you are makes you really get good at reading people and adjust his information output accordingly.

How he sees himself is kind of a weird issue. He tends not to think about himself, he lives to entertain other people. This really bites him in the ass when he is suddenly met with the question of “What do I want to do my entire life?” Do I even know myself?? What DO I want to do with my life?? I guess I can talk to people and I’m halfway funny? People wanna bang me i guess? Are those Character Traits ™?

[liketotallydest]

Harry Styles' New Direction A year in the life of the One Direction star as One Direction's Harry Styles goes deep on love, family and his heartfelt new solo debut in our revealing feature. Theo Wenner for Rolling Stone January 2016. There's a bench at the top of Primrose Hill, in London, that looks out over the skyline of the city. If you'd passed by it one winter night, you might have seen him sitting there. A lanky guy in a wool hat, overcoat and jogging pants, hands thrust deep into his pockets. Harry Styles had a lot on his mind. He had spent five years as the buoyant fan favorite in One Direction; now, an uncertain future stretched out in front of him. The band had announced an indefinite hiatus. The white noise of adulation was gone, replaced by the hushed sound of the city below. Theo Wenner for Rolling Stone The fame visited upon Harry Styles in his years with One D was a special kind of mania. With a self-effacing smile, a hint of darkness and the hair invariably described as "tousled," he became a canvas onto which millions of fans pitched their hopes and dreams. Hell, when he pulled over to the side of the 101 freeway in L.A. and discreetly threw up, the spot became a fan shrine. It's said the puke was even sold on eBay like pieces of the Berlin Wall. Paul McCartney has interviewed him. Then there was the unauthorized fan-fiction series featuring a punky, sexed-up version of "Harry Styles." A billion readers followed his virtual exploits. ("Didn't read it," comments the nonfiction Styles, "but I hope he gets more than me.") But at the height of One D–mania, Styles took a step back. For many, 2016 was a year of lost musical heroes and a toxic new world order. For Styles, it was a search for a new identity that began on that bench overlooking London. What would a solo Harry Styles sound like? A plan came into focus. A song cycle about women and relationships. Ten songs. More of a rock sound. A bold single-color cover to match the working title: Pink. (He quotes the Clash's Paul Simonon: "Pink is the only true rock & roll colour.") Many of the details would change over the coming year – including the title, which would end up as Harry Styles – but one word stuck in his head. "Honest," he says, a year later, driving through midcity Los Angeles in a dusty black Range Rover. He's lived here off and on for the past few years, always returning to London. Styles' car stereo pumps a mix of country and obscure classic rock. "I didn't want to write 'stories,' " he says. "I wanted to write my stories, things that happened to me. The number-one thing was I wanted to be honest. I hadn't done that before." There isn't a yellow light he doesn't run as he speaks excitedly about the band he's put together under the tutelage of producer Jeff Bhasker (The Rolling Stones, Kanye West, "Uptown Funk"). He's full of stories about the two-month recording session last fall at Geejam, a studio and compound built into a mountainside near Port Antonio, a remote section of Jamaica. Drake and Rihanna have recorded there, and it's where Styles produced the bulk of his new LP, which is due out May 12th. As we weave through traffic today, the album no one has heard is burning a hole in his iPhone. RELATED See Harry Styles Play Mick Jagger, Perform New Songs on 'SNL' We arrive at a crowded diner, and Styles cuts through the room holding a black notebook jammed with papers and artifacts from his album, looking like a college student searching for a quiet place to study. He's here to do something he hasn't done much of in his young career: an extended one-on-one interview. Often in the past there was another One D member to vector questions into a charmingly evasive display of band camaraderie. Today, Styles is a game but careful custodian of his words, sometimes silently consulting the tablecloth before answering. But as he recounts the events leading up to his year out of the spotlight, the layers begin to slip away. It was in a London studio in late 2014 that Styles first brought up the idea of One Direction taking a break. "I didn't want to exhaust our fan base," he explains. "If you're shortsighted, you can think, 'Let's just keep touring,' but we all thought too much of the group than to let that happen. You realize you're exhausted and you don't want to drain people's belief in you." After much discussion, the band mutually agreed to a hiatus, which was announced in August 2015 (Zayn Malik had abruptly left One D several months earlier). Fans were traumatized by the band's decision, but were let down easy with a series of final bows, including a tour that ran through October. Styles remains a One D advocate: "I love the band, and would never rule out anything in the future. The band changed my life, gave me everything." Harry Styles reveals the inspiration behind his new music. Here's five things we learned about Harry Styles' new album. Still, a solo career was calling. "I wanted to step up. There were songs I wanted to write and record, and not just have it be 'Here's a demo I wrote.' Every decision I've made since I was 16 was made in a democracy. I felt like it was time to make a decision about the future  ...  and maybe I shouldn't rely on others." As one of the most well-known 23-year-olds in the world, Styles himself is still largely unknown. Behind the effervescent stage persona, there is more lore than fact. He likes it that way. "With an artist like Prince," he says, "all you wanted to do was know more. And that mystery – it's why those people are so magical! Like, fuck, I don't know what Prince eats for breakfast. That mystery  ...  it's just what I like." Styles pauses, savoring the idea of the unknown. He looks at my digital recorder like a barely invited guest. "More than 'do you keep a mystery alive?' – it's not that. I like to separate my personal life and work. It helps, I think, for me to compartmentalize. It's not about trying to make my career longer, like I'm trying to be this 'mysterious character,' because I'm not. When I go home, I feel like the same person I was at school. You can't expect to keep that if you show everything. There's the work and the personal stuff, and going between the two is my favorite shit. It's amazing to me." Soon, we head to the Beachwood Canyon studio of Jeff Bhasker. As we arrive, Styles bounds up the steps to the studio, passing a bored pool cleaner. "How are ya," he announces, unpacking a seriously cheerful smile. The pool cleaner looks perplexed, not quite sharing Styles' existential joy. Inside, the band awaits. Styles opens his notebook and heads for the piano. He wants to finish a song he'd started earlier that day. It's obvious that the band has a well-worn frat-house dynamic, sort of like the Beatles in Help!, as directed by Judd Apatow. Styles is, to all, "H." Pomegranate-scented candles flicker around the room. Bhasker enters, with guru-length hair, multicolored shirt, red socks and sandals. He was initially busy raising a new baby with his partner, the singer and songwriter Lykke Li, so he guided Styles to two of his producer-player protégés, Alex Salibian and Tyler Johnson, as well as engineer and bassist Ryan Nasci. The band began to form. The final piece of the puzzle was Mitch Rowland, Styles' guitarist, who had worked in a pizza joint until two weeks into the sessions. "Being around musicians like this had a big effect on me," Styles says. "Not being able to pass an instrument without sitting down and playing it?" He shakes his head. It was Styles' first full immersion into the land of musos, and he clearly can't get enough. Styles starts singing some freshly written lyrics. It's a new song called "I Don't Want to Be the One You're Waiting On." His voice sounds warm, burnished and intimate, not unlike early Rod Stewart. The song is quickly finished, and the band assembles for a playback of the album. "Mind if I play it loud?" asks Bhasker. It's a rhetorical question. Nasci cranks "Sign of the Times," the first single, to a seismic level. The song began as a seven-minute voice note on Styles' phone, and ended up as a sweeping piano ballad, as well as a kind of call to arms. "Most of the stuff that hurts me about what's going on at the moment is not politics, it's fundamentals," Styles says. "Equal rights. For everyone, all races, sexes, everything. ...  'Sign of the Times' came from 'This isn't the first time we've been in a hard time, and it's not going to be the last time.' The song is written from a point of view as if a mother was giving birth to a child and there's a complication. The mother is told, 'The child is fine, but you're not going to make it.' The mother has five minutes to tell the child, 'Go forth and conquer.'" The track was a breakthrough for both the artist and the band. "Harry really led the charge with that one, and the rest of the album," says Bhasker. "I wish the album could be called Sign of the Times," Styles declares. "I don't know," says Bhasker. "I mean, it has been used." They debate for a bit. Nasci plays more tracks. The songs range from full-on rock ("Kiwi") to intricate psychedelic pop ("Meet Me in the Hallway") to the outright confessional ("Ever Since New York," a desperate meditation on loss and longing). The lyrics are full of details and references – secrets whispered between friends, doomed declarations of love, empty swimming pools – sure to set fans scrambling for the facts behind the mystery. "Of course I'm nervous," Styles admits, jingling his keys. "I mean, I've never done this before. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I'm happy I found this band and these musicians, where you can be vulnerable enough to put yourself out there. I'm still learning ...  but it's my favorite lesson." The album is a distinct departure from the dance pop that permeates the airwaves. "A lot of my influences, and the stuff that I love, is older," he says. "So the thing I didn't want to do was, I didn't want to put out my first album and be like, 'He's tried to re-create the Sixties, Seventies, Eighties, Nineties.' Loads of amazing music was written then, but I'm not saying I wish I lived back then. I wanted to do something that sounds like me. I just keep pushing forward." "It's different from what you'd expect," Bhasker says. "It made me realize the Harry [in One D] was kind of the digitized Harry. Almost like a character. I don't think people know a lot of the sides of him that are on this album. You put it on and people are like, 'This is Harry Styles?' " Styles is aware that his largest audience so far has been young – often teenage – women. Asked if he spends pressure-filled evenings worried about proving credibility to an older crowd, Styles grows animated. "Who's to say that young girls who like pop music – short for popular, right? – have worse musical taste than a 30-year-old hipster guy? That's not up to you to say. Music is something that's always changing. There's no goal posts. Young girls like the Beatles. You gonna tell me they're not serious? How can you say young girls don't get it? They're our future. Our future doctors, lawyers, mothers, presidents, they kind of keep the world going. Teenage-girl fans – they don't lie. If they like you, they're there. They don't act 'too cool.' They like you, and they tell you. Which is sick." "Teenage-girl fans – they don't lie," Styles says. Styles drives to a quiet dinner spot in Laurel Canyon, at the foot of Lookout Mountain Avenue, onetime home to many of his Seventies songwriting heroes. He used to have a place around the corner. As the later tours of One Direction grew larger, longer and more frenetic, he offers with irony, "It was very rock & roll." He's not a heavy drinker, he says, maybe some tequila on ice or wine with friends after a show, but by the band's last tour there wasn't much time even for that. John Lennon once told Rolling Stone that behind the curtain, the Beatles' tours were like Fellini's Satyricon. Styles counters that the One D tours were more like "a Wes Anderson movie. Cut. Cut. New location. Quick cut. New location. Cut. Cut. Show. Shower. Hard cut. Sleep." Finding a table, Styles leans forward and discusses his social-media presence, or lack thereof. Styles and his phone have a bittersweet, mature relationship – they spend a lot of time apart. He doesn't Google himself, and checks Twitter infrequently. "I'll tell you about Twitter," he continues, discussing the volley of tweets, some good, some cynical, that met his endorsement of the Women's March on Washington earlier this year. "It's the most incredible way to communicate closely with people, but not as well as in person." When the location of his London home was published a few years ago, he was rattled. His friend James Corden offered him a motto coined by British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli: "Never complain, never explain." I mention a few of the verbal Molotov cocktails Zayn Malik has tossed at the band in recent interviews. Here's one: "[One D is] not music that I would listen to. If I was sat at a dinner date with a girl, I would play some cool shit, you know what I mean? I want to make music that I think is cool shit. I don't think that's too much to ask for." Styles adjusts himself in his chair. "I think it's a shame he felt that way," he says, threading the needle of diplomacy, "but I never wish anything but luck to anyone doing what they love. If you're not enjoying something and need to do something else, you absolutely should do that. I'm glad he's doing what he likes, and good luck to him." Perched on his head are the same-style white sunglasses made famous by Kurt Cobain, but the similarities end right there. Styles, born two months before Cobain exited Earth, doesn't feel tied to any particular genre or era. In the car, he'll just as easily crank up the country music of Keith Whitley as the esoteric blues-and-soul of Shuggie Otis. He even bought a carrot cake to present to Stevie Nicks at a Fleetwood Mac concert. ("Piped her name onto it. She loved it. Glad she liked carrot cake.") This much is clear: The classic role of tortured artist is not one he'll be playing. "People romanticize places they can't get to themselves," he says. "That's why it's fascinating when people go dark – when Van Gogh cuts off his ear. You romanticize those people, sometimes out of proportion. It's the same with music. You want a piece of that darkness, to feel their pain but also to step back into your own [safer] life. I can't say I had that. I had a really nice upbringing. I feel very lucky. I had a great family and always felt loved. There's nothing worse than an inauthentic tortured person. 'They took my allowance away, so I did heroin.' It's like – that's not how it works. I don't even remember what the question was." Styles wanders into the Country Store next door. It's a store he knows well. Inspecting the shelves, he asks if I've had British rice pudding. He finds a can that looks ancient. He collects a roll of Rowntrees Fruit Pastilles ("since 1881"), Lindor Swiss chocolates ("irresistibly smooth") and a jar of Branston Pickles. "There's only two shops in L.A. that stock all the British snacks. This area's kind of potluck," he says, spreading the collection on the counter. The clerk rings up the snacks. In the most careful, deferential way, the young worker asks the question. "Would you  ... happen to be ...  Harry Styles?" "Yep." "Could I get a selfie?" Styles obliges, and leans over the counter. Click. We exit into the Laurel Canyon evening. "Hey," shouts a grizzled-looking dude on the bench outside the store. "Do you know who you look like?" Styles turns, expecting more of the same, but this particular night denizen is on a different track. "River Phoenix," the man announces, a little sadly. "You ever heard of him? If he hadn't have passed, I would have said that was you. Talented guy." "Yes, he was," agrees Styles, who is in many ways the generational opposite of Phoenix. "Yes, he was." They share a silent moment, before Styles walks to his car. He hands me the bag filled with English snacks. "This is for you," he says. "This was my youth ..." Styles at age three. Courtesy of Harry Styles Harry Edward Styles was born in Worcestershire, England, in true classic-rock form, on a Tuesday Afternoon. The family moved to Cheshire, a quiet spot in Northern England, when he was a baby. His older sister, Gemma, was the studious one. ("She was always smarter than me, and I was always jealous of that.") His father, Desmond, worked in finance. He was a fan of the Rolling Stones, Fleetwood Mac, a lot of Queen, and Pink Floyd. Young Harry toddled around to The Dark Side of the Moon. "I couldn't really get it," he says, "but I just remember being like – this is really fucking cool. Then my mom would always have Shania Twain, and Savage Garden, Norah Jones going on. I had a great childhood. I'll admit it." But in fact, all was not perfection, scored to a cool, retro soundtrack. When Harry was seven, his parents explained to him that Des would be moving out. Asked about that moment today, Styles stares straight ahead. "I don't remember," he says. "Honestly, when you're that young, you can kind of block it out. ... I can't say that I remember the exact thing. I didn't realize that was the case until just now. Yeah, I mean, I was seven. It's one of those things. Feeling supported and loved by my parents never changed." His eyes moisten a little, but unlike the young man who wept over an early bout with Internet criticism, a powerful moment in the early One Direction documentary A Year in the Making, Styles tonight knocks back the sentiment. Styles is still close with his father, and served as best man to his mom when she remarried a few years ago. "Since I've been 10," he reflects, "it's kind of felt like – protect Mom at all costs. ... My mom is very strong. She has the greatest heart. [Her house in Cheshire] is where I want to go when I want to spend some time." In his early teens, Styles joined some school friends as the singer in a mostly-covers band, White Eskimo. "We wrote a couple of songs," he remembers. "One was called 'Gone in a Week.' It was about luggage. 'I'll be gone in a week or two/Trying to find myself someplace new/I don't need any jackets or shoes/The only luggage I need is you.'" He laughs. "I was like, 'Sick.'" It was his mother who suggested he try out for the U.K. singing competition The X Factor to compete in the solo "Boy" category. Styles sang Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely." The unforgiving reaction from one of the judges, Louis Walsh, is now infamous. Watching the video today is to watch young Harry's cheery disposition take a hot bullet. "In that instant," he says, "you're in the whirlwind. You don't really know what's happening; you're just a kid on the show. You don't even know you're good at anything. I'd gone because my mum told me I was good from singing in the car ...  but your mum tells you things to make you feel good, so you take it with a pinch of salt. I didn't really know what I was expecting when I went on there." Styles didn't advance in the competition, but Simon Cowell, the show's creator, sensed a crowd favorite. He put Styles together with four others who'd failed to advance in the same category, and united the members of One D in a musical shotgun marriage. The marriage worked. And worked. And worked. You wonder how a young musician might find his way here, to these lofty peaks, with his head still attached to his shoulders. No sex tapes, no TMZ meltdowns, no tell-all books written by the rehab nanny? In a world where one messy scandal can get you five seasons of a hit reality show ...  how did Harry Styles slip through the juggernaut? "Family," answers Ben Winston. "It comes from his mom, Anne. She brought him and his sister up incredibly well. Harry would choose boring over exciting ... There is more chance of me going to Mars next week than there is of Harry having some sort of addiction." We're in Television City, Hollywood. Winston, 35, the Emmy-winning executive producer of The Late Late Show With James Corden, abandons his desk and retreats to a nearby sofa to discuss his good friend. More than a friend, Styles became an unlikely family member – after he became perhaps the world's most surprising houseguest. Their friendship was forged in the early stages of One D's success, when the band debuted on The X Factor. Winston, then a filmmaker and production partner with Corden, asked for a meeting, and instantly hit it off with the group. He became a friendly mentor to Styles, though the friendship was soon tested. Styles had just moved out of his family home in Cheshire, an inconvenient three hours north of London. He found a home he liked near the Winstons in Hampstead Heath. The new house needed two weeks of work. Styles asked if he could briefly move in with Winston and his wife, Meredith. "She agreed," Winston says, "but only for two weeks." One Direction on 'The X Factor,' 2010 Ken McKay/TalkbackThames/REX/Shutterstock Styles parked his mattress in the Winstons' attic. "Two weeks later and he hadn't bought his house yet," continues Winston. "It wasn't going through. Then he said, 'I'm going to stay until Christmas, if you don't mind.' Then Christmas came, and ..." For the next 20 months, one of the most desired stars on the planet slept on a small mattress in an attic. The only other bit of house-dressing was the acoustic guitar that would rattle into the Winstons' bedroom. While fans gathered at the empty house where he didn't live, Styles lived incognito with a couple 12 years his senior. The Winstons' Orthodox Jewish lifestyle, with a strong family emphasis, helped keep him sane. "Those 20 months were when they went from being on a reality show, X Factor, to being the biggest-selling artists in the world," recalls Winston. "That period of time, he was living with us in the most mundane suburban situation. No one ever found out, really. Even when we went out for a meal, it's such a sweet family neighborhood, no one dreamed it was actually him. But he made our house a home. And when he moved out, we were gutted." Styles jauntily appears at the Late Late office. He's clearly a regular visitor, and he and Winston have a brotherly shorthand. "Leaving Saturday?" asks Winston. "Yeah, gotta buy a cactus for my friend's birthday," says Styles. "My dad might be on your flight," says Winston. "The 8:50? That'd be sick." Winston continues the tales from the attic. "So we had this joke. Meri and I would like to see the girls that you would come back with to the house. That was always what we enjoyed, because we'd be in bed like an old couple. We'd have our spot cream on our faces and we'd be in our pajamas and the door would go off. The stairwell was right outside our door, so we'd wait to see if Harry was coming home alone or with people." "I was alone," notes Styles. "I was scared of Meri." "He wasn't always alone," corrects Winston, "but it was exciting seeing the array of A-listers that would come up and sleep in the attic. Or he'd come and lounge with us. We'd never discuss business. He would act as if he hadn't come back from playing to 80,000 people three nights in a row in Rio de Janeiro." "Let's go to the beach," says Styles, pulling the Range Rover onto a fog-soaked Pacific Coast Highway. Last night was his tequila-fueled birthday party, filled with friends and karaoke and a surprise drop-in from Adele. He's now officially 23. "And not too hung over," he notes. Styles finds a spot at a sushi place up the coast. As he passes through the busy dining room, a businessman turns, recognizing him with a face that says: My kids love this guy! I ask Styles what he hears most from the parents of young fans. "They say, 'I see your cardboard face every fucking day.' " He laughs. "I think they want me to apologize." The subject today is relationships. While Styles says he still feels like a newcomer to all that, a handful of love affairs have deeply affected him. The images and stolen moments tumble extravagantly through the new songs: And promises are broken like a stitch is ... I got splinters in my knuckles crawling 'cross the floor/Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short/But I think that's what I like about it ... I see you gave him my old T-shirt, more of what was once mine ... That black notebook, you sense, is filled with this stuff. "My first proper girlfriend," he remembers, "used to have one of those laughs. There was also a little bit of mystery with her because she didn't go to our school. I just worshipped the ground she walked on. And she knew, probably to a fault, a little. That was a tough one. I was 15. "She used to live an hour and a half away on the train, and I worked in a bakery for three years. I'd finish on Saturdays at 4:30 and it was a 4:42 train, and if I missed it there wasn't one for another hour or two. So I'd finish and sprint to the train station. Spent 70 percent of my wages on train tickets. Later, I'd remember her perfume. Little things. I smell that perfume all the time. I'll be in a lift or a reception and say to someone, 'Alien, right?' And sometimes they're impressed and sometimes they're a little creeped out. 'Stop smelling me.'" With Taylor Swift in Central Park, 2012 David Krieger/Bauer-Griffin If Styles hadn't yet adapted to global social-media attention, he was tested in 2012, when he met Taylor Swift at an awards show. Their second date, a walk in Central Park, was caught by paparazzi. Suddenly the couple were global news. They broke up the next month, reportedly after a rocky Caribbean vacation; the romance was said to have ended with at least one broken heart. The relationship is a subject he's famously avoided discussing. "I gotta pee first. This might be a long one," he says. He rises to head to the bathroom, then adds, "Actually, you can say, 'He went for a pee and never came back.' " He returns a couple of minutes later. "Thought I'd let you stew for a while," he says, laughing, then takes a gulp of green juice. He was surprised, he says, when photos from Central Park rocketed around the world. "When I see photos from that day," he says, "I think: Relationships are hard, at any age. And adding in that you don't really understand exactly how it works when you're 18, trying to navigate all that stuff didn't make it easier. I mean, you're a little bit awkward to begin with. You're on a date with someone you really like. It should be that simple, right? It was a learning experience for sure. But at the heart of it – I just wanted it to be a normal date." He's well aware that at least two of Swift's songs – "Out of the Woods" and "Style" – are considered to be about their romance. ("You've got that long hair slicked back, white T-shirt," she sang in "Style.") "I mean, I don't know if they're about me or not ..." he says, attempting gallant discretion, "but the issue is, she's so good, they're bloody everywhere." He smiles. "I write from my experiences; everyone does that. I'm lucky if everything [we went through] helped create those songs. That's what hits your heart. That's the stuff that's hardest to say, and it's the stuff I talk least about. That's the part that's about the two people. I'm never going to tell anybody everything." (Fans wondered whether "Perfect," a song Styles co-wrote for One Direction, might have been about Swift: "And if you like cameras flashing every time we go out/And if you're looking for someone to write your breakup songs about/Baby, I'm perfect.") Was he able to tell her that he admired the songs? "Yes and no," he says after a long pause. "She doesn't need me to tell her they're great. They're great songs ... It's the most amazing unspoken dialogue ever." Is there anything he'd want to say to Swift today? "Maybe this is where you write down that I left!" He laughs, and looks off. "I don't know," he finally says. "Certain things don't work out. There's a lot of things that can be right, and it's still wrong. In writing songs about stuff like that, I like tipping a hat to the time together. You're celebrating the fact it was powerful and made you feel something, rather than 'this didn't work out, and that's bad.' And if you run into that person, maybe it's awkward, maybe you have to get drunk ... but you shared something. Meeting someone new, sharing those experiences, it's the best shit ever. So thank you." He notes a more recent relationship, possibly over now, but significant for the past few years. (Styles has often been spotted with Kendall Jenner, but he won't confirm that's who he's talking about.) "She's a huge part of the album," says Styles. "Sometimes you want to tip the hat, and sometimes you just want to give them the whole cap ...  and hope they know it's just for them." In late February 2016, Styles landed a plum part in Christopher Nolan's upcoming World War II epic, Dunkirk. In Nolan, Styles found a director equally interested in mystery. "The movie is so ambitious," he says. "Some of the stuff they're doing in this movie is insane. And it was hard, man, physically really tough, but I love acting. I love playing someone else. I'd sleep really well at night, then get up and continue drowning." When Styles returned to L.A., an idea landed. The idea was: Get out of Dodge. Styles called his manager, Jeffrey Azoff, and explained he wanted to finish the album outside London or L.A., a place where the band could focus and coalesce. Four days after returning from the movie, they were on their way to Port Antonio on Jamaica's remote north coast. At Geejam, Styles and his entire band were able to live together, turning the studio compound into something like a Caribbean version of Big Pink. They occupied a two-story villa filled with instruments, hung out at the tree-house-like Bush Bar, and had access to the gorgeous studio on-site. Many mornings began with a swim in the deserted cove just down the hill. Life in Jamaica was 10 percent beach party and 90 percent musical expedition. It was the perfect rite of passage for a musician looking to explode the past and launch a future. The anxiety of what's next slipped away. Layers of feeling emerged that had never made it past One Direction's group songwriting sessions, often with pop craftsmen who polished the songs after Styles had left. He didn't feel stifled in One D, he says, as much as interrupted. "We were touring all the time," he recalls. "I wrote more as we went, especially on the last two albums." There are songs from that period he loves, he says, like "Olivia" and "Stockholm Syndrome," along with the earlier song "Happily." "But I think it was tough to really delve in and find out who you are as a writer when you're just kind of dipping your toe each time. We didn't get the six months to see what kind of shit you can work with. To have time to live with a song, see what you love as a fan, chip at it, hone it and go for that  ... it's heaven." The more vulnerable the song, he learned, the better. "The one subject that hits the hardest is love," he says, "whether it's platonic, romantic, loving it, gaining it, losing it  ...  it always hits you hardest. I don't think people want to hear me talk about going to bars, and how great everything is. The champagne popping  ...  who wants to hear about it? I don't want to hear my favorite artists talk about all the amazing shit they get to do. I want to hear, 'How did you feel when you were alone in that hotel room, because you chose to be alone?'" To wind down in Jamaica, Styles and Rowland, the guitarist, began a daily Netflix obsession with sugary romantic comedies. Houseworkers would sometimes leave at night and return the next morning to see Styles blearily removing himself from a long string of rom-coms. He declares himself an expert on Nicholas Sparks, whom he now calls "Nicky Spee." After almost two months, the band left the island with a bounty of songs and stories. Like the time Styles ended up drunk and wet from the ocean, toasting everybody, wearing a dress he'd traded with someone's girlfriend. "I don't remember the toast," he says, "but I remember the feeling." Styles in Jamaica. Styles recorded much of his album there, turning his studio complex into a Caribbean version of Big Pink. Courtesy of Harry Styles Christmas 2016. Harry Styles was parked outside his childhood home, sitting next to his father. They were listening to his album. After lunch at a pub, they had driven down their old street and landed in front of the family home. Staring out at the house where Styles grew up listening to his father's copy of The Dark Side of the Moon, there was much to consider. It was a long way he'd traveled in those fast few years since "Isn't She Lovely." He'd previously played the new album for his mother, on a stool, in the living room, on cheap speakers. She'd cried hearing "Sign of the Times." Now he sat with his father – who liked the new song "Carolina" best – both having come full circle. Styles is moved as he describes how he felt. We're sitting in Corden's empty office, talking over a few last subjects before he returns to England. "I think, as a parent, especially with the band stuff, it was such a roller coaster," he says. "I feel like they were always thinking, 'OK, this ride could stop at any point and we're going to have to be there when it does.' There was something about playing the album and how happy I was that told them, 'If all I get is to make this music, I'm content. If I'm never on that big ride again, I'm happy and proud of it.' "I always said, at the very beginning, all I wanted was to be the granddad with the best stories ...  and the best shelf of artifacts and bits and trinkets." Tomorrow night he'll hop a flight back to England. Rehearsals await. Album-cover choices need to be made. He grabs his black notebook and turns back for a moment before disappearing down the hallway, into the future. "How am I going to be mysterious," he asks, only half-joking, "when I've been this honest with you?"

[originaldetectivesheep]

Year in Review - Books I Read In 2017

Last year I only read about a hundred of other people's works, so I was able to note everything.  This year....was not like that.  By more committed Gutenberg-grinding, I increased that number by a factor of three.  These are the highlights, excerpted notes on stuff that I found particularly good, or relevant, or interesting.

Robert Wallace - The Tycoon of Crime Another Phantom adventure, though this one holds back the appearance of the great detective a little and actually sets up a few tricks that aren't immediately obvious.  Most are, though, and this is not a great mystery, but it's a competent enough pulp, well-flavored with brutality and gore that's almost heartrending in the modern day -- because it's a callback to the trenches of the Western Front, where bad-luck wounds, dismemberment, and poison gas were just everyday facts of life.  That look in passing into the world of the men who wrote this stuff and were looking for it in their reading is the main attraction of this nowadays, but if you're looking to read a Phantom story, this is probably the pick of the litter.

Edgar Rice Burroughs - Apache Devil There are a few pulled punches in this, but not a lot, and in addition to a gripping narrative this story also packs a lot of good craft and a more united plot than it seems at first glance.  It's interesting from the modern perspective to see Burroughs so sympathetic to the Apache in the context of his vigorous racism against "savages" from other places; some of this may be closer exposure to Native American culture and thus the greater willingness to credit them as human beings, and some of it may be him pitching to his audience, where American natives were crushed, nearly extinct, and eulogizable, while black people were making the Great Migration out of the south and creating economic anxiety.  Either way, this is a pretty good book and not as garbage in its politics as Burroughs frequently is.

Abraham Merritt - Seven Steps To Satan Merritt's Eastern lore is well-worked into this tale, and more importantly he does a good job of keeping the reader on their toes, guessing what of this Satan's tricks are magic and what are just that, tricks.  The intersection of magic, illusion, manipulation, and hypnotism is a neat contrast to the usual suspicions of occultism, and the effect is really neat in keeping this Indiana Jones adventure full of darkness and mystery.  Harry is a little too obvious a plot jackknife, but you have to get to a resolution somehow, and he doesn't stick out too much in this world of super-minds and super-drugs.  Merritt has better stuff, but this is pretty good even so.

Stella Benson - This Is The End I had a limited selection of Benson's stuff, but this is definitely the choice of the batch.  As smart and observant as ever, and with nearly as flawless and perfect a flow of language and an eye for metaphor as in Living Alone, she also turns all of this around into a punishing, apocalyptic hammer of emotional weight and import at the turn and through on to the devastating finish.  I'd been reading up on the Somme and Verdun campaigns, which would have been the backdrop offstage for this, so this may have hit me harder than others, but it's hard to see how that ending, and Benson's poetry woven in around her prose, could fail to have the same effect regardless of circumstances.

Walter S. Cramp - Psyche For real, I nearly miscopied this author's name as "Crap" when writing this out.  This one is BAD, folks.  You can introduce your characters with a physical description if you like, though it does get kind of fan-ficcy, but do not attach a goddamn alignment readout to it.  The descriptions suck, the deliberate archaisms in dialogue suck -- do not write 'thou' unless you are going to use 'you' elsewhere to show correct tu/vous formulations in older English -- the staging and plotting sucks, and Cra(m)p can't be bothered to keep a consistent tense.  This is an awful book and should have been pulped a hundred years ago rather than continuing to waste people's time and electrons down to the present.

J. A. Buck - Sargasso of Lost Safaris Everything you need to know about this insistently self-footbulleting series can be found from the episode here, where in the middle of a taut thriller about bad whites and educated natives double-crossing each other, the protagonists fight the world's worst-described dinosaur for pagecount.  No explanation, they just needed another 500 words between two chapters and so they roll on the random monster table and get a fucking Baryonix or whatever.  The 'girl Tarzan' trope is at the outer edges of reality, and Tarzan did a lot of Lost World garbage too, but too much of this is too true to life to fuck itself over by throwing in dinosaurs like it aint a thing.  Fuck this stupid shit.

Wilhelm Walloth - Empress Octavia "Death was to stalk over it like a Phoenician dyer, when he crushes purple snails upon a white woollen cloak till the dark juices trickle down investing the snowy vesture with a crimson splendor."  When you write this sentence, stop.  Just stop.  I have bad habits like this too, but nothing, even a translation from German, is a justification for throwing out a sentence like that, especially in a second paragraph.  Stop.  No. Beyond this, this is yet another Ben-Hur wannabe that is in love with its research and can't decide what fucking tense it's in.  If you are interested in Rome, read Gibbon or Tacitus, or Suetonius or Caesar himself; if you want literature, stay the FUCK away from the Bibliotheca Romana.  The plot takes directions that only a German can and would go in, in its period, but this boldness alone is not enough to excuse the poor composition and overall aimlessness.

Stephen Crane - Maggie: A Girl of the Streets I'm sure this was revolutionary when it came out, but at this distance, it feels like parody or melodrama - a lot of which is coming from the dialect, which is even more intolerable in the present than it was when this was written.  This isn't even hard dialect, and there's no need for it to be consistently phonetic rather than, like, just describing people's accents.  You look at "The Playboy of the Western World" and what that doesn't do with forcing pronunciations, and then you look back at this, and you see rapidly which one does a better job of conveying the lifestyles of the deprived and limited.  I know this is supposed to be heartbreaking, but it's completely outclassed and replaced, for modern audiences, by The Jungle, which more people need to re-read and actually understand as a labor story rather than a USDA tract.  Anything, literally anything, else you can get out of Stephen Crane is going to be better than this.

John Peter Drummond - Tigress of Twanbi Seriously, this story would be greatly improved by getting the Tarzan shit out of it.  If it was Hurree Das, picaresque Indian doctor versus Julebba the Arab Amazon with their countervailing motivations and the local allies who ended up in the crossfire of her domination war in the African bush and his attempts to stop it or at least get out with a whole skin, this tale would be significantly improved in addition to completely unidentifiable for the white audience it had to be sold to at the time of publication.  So it goes.  Drummond's side characters are significantly better than his leads or his plots, and should have held out for a trade to Stan Weinbaum or P.P. Sheehan for a case of beer plus a player to be named later rather than having to submit to this dreck.

Robert Eustace - The Brotherhood of the Seven Kings Playing like a series of Eustace's Madame Sara stories -- there's definitely something to peel the onion on there, where every villain is a mysterious older Latin woman -- the plot here moves by the usual bumps of caper and medical/forensic detection, with seldom an attachment from one episode to the next.  The individual stories are entertaining, but this is a collection, not a novel, and going from front to back is like binging a TV series in novella form.  The individual tricks range from lame and overdone to Holmesian superclass, but this would be so much better if there was an actual whole narrative rather than this point to point.

Augusta Groner - The Pocket Diary Found In The Snow If I had gotten to this before Three Pretenders, I definitely would have thrown in a shoutout callback to Joe Mueller somewhere; Groner's Austrian detective is a more modern Holmes in a Vienna at the end of its rope, and in addition to the neat characters and relatable scene dressing, the mystery here is pretty good and the inevitable howdoneit epilogue is actually interesting rather than tiresome, which is always a potential stumbling block in this sort of caper.  Most of Groner's work that I have is pretty short, but at least I'll have the possibility of re-reading her in the original German later.

Anonymous for The Wizard - Six-Gun Gorilla It's easy to see why nobody, so far, has come forward to claim this clunky Western with a hilarious concept played absolutely straight.  This is a Madonna's-doctor's-dog exercise in crank-turnery written in Scotland by Brits who have never been to the high desert, for an audience that needs to be told that bandits aren't particularly interested in mining.  As a craft exercise, there's some merit to it: anyone can write a gorilla-revenge story in Africa, or a Western manhunt, but when an editor comes to you and says "so there's this gorilla and he's a badass gunfighter, write a story to fit these illustrations and make it not suck", that's when you really have to stretch your creative muscles.  There are signs that this was a house name product or a collab rather than one author, and more insistent signs that it was a joke played on the readership to see how long they'd put up with it.  It's almost magic realist in its combination of brutality and absurdity -- who the hell knows what British schoolboys thought of it in 1939.

Robert W. Chambers - The Slayer of Souls Probably not the inspiration for that song that was on like every compilation in Rock Hard and Metal Hammer in summer 2005, this Chambers joint is either pitched perfectly for the Trumpist present -- did you know that Muslims, socialists, Chinese people, unionists, and anarchists are all actually the same, and all actually parts of a gigantic Satanist conspiracy? oh wow such deep state many alex jones -- or an incoherent stew of staunch J. Edgar Hoover fanboyism that can't keep its own geography straight, which is actually kind of the same thing so never mind.  This is exactly the sort of story that George Orwell was so hot about in "Boys' Weeklies": good, craft-wise, and definitely gripping, but utterly complicit in a way and to a degree that almost becomes self-parody.  If you can stop laughing at it, it's got the good action and aggressively-expansive world-setting of good rano-esque anime; if you can't, Chambers has better short stories and have you heard of this guy called Abraham Merrit?

Stendahl - The Red and the Black It is maybe over-egging it a little to call this a 'perfect' novel, but it is closer to that perfection than it is to any other reasonable descriptor.  The society of the Bourbon restoration may be lost to us, but the characters stand the test of time, and Stendahl moves them in time with the plot -- the way that their actions are only tenuously liked to their outcomes is a triumph of realism -- with the hand of a master.  I like Stendahl's Italian stuff too, but France in his own time is his best course, and this is his best work.

Sylvanus Cobb - Ben Hamed What's really striking about this sword and sandal mellerdrammer is how relatively non-racist it is, and how easily it accepts Muslims as real people and mostly normal.  There's a bunch of orientalism, sure, but while the Giant Negro sidekick occasionally comes off servile, he's also smart, experienced, and independent, and takes, for his characterization, an appropriately central role in shepherding the star-crossed lovers to the end of their tale.  This could easily get a banging Arab-directed film adaptation today with very few changes -- and that's not just about how good it is as entertainment, but also about how far Cobb was ahead of the curve in 1863.

Talbot Mundy - C. I. D. Another inter-war Indian thriller, this excellent spy novel pits a wide range of the native-state establishment -- corrupt priests, a venal rajah, the incompetent British Resident, a motley gang of profiteers -- against the genius and initiative of Mundy's great hope for India, the always effective, never moral Chullunder Gose.  As expected, the top agent of the Confidential Investigations Division masterfully controls the whole chessboard, pitting the various enemy forces against each other and subverting each in turn before throwing in his reserves -- Hawkes, back in a smaller role as British India yields to British-Indian cooperation, and the obligatory American, a pre-MSF doctor who starts the book looking for a Chekhov's tiger hunt.  Thing is, this is fiction, and so it's Mundy who's really keeping all these balls in the air and weaving the skein of the story into an incredibly awesome whole.  If you have problems with Kipling and Haggard, start getting into Mundy from here. A neat thing that will not go unnoticed by other pulp deep-divers is the shots-fired bit introducing the Resident's library, which is noted to feature the works of Edgar Wallace.  Whether to make a point in the story -- "every colonial section chief, no matter how actually bad, secretly thinks of himself as Sanders", which I've used in my own stuff -- or to start beef -- "people read Wallace and think he knows about the colonies, but he has actually just been to the track and his apartment and needs to stfu before idiots making policy off his 'exceptionally stupid member of the Navy League circa 1910' worldview hurt somebody" -- this is definitely a callout, and definitely intentional.

Gordon MacReagh - The Witch-Casting I'm reading these Kingi Bwana stories in order, and it is getting suspiciously clear that as long as he put in a bit of African-kicking at the start, he was free to get as smart and real as he liked later in the story -- and the amount of kicking was something that there were subtle efforts to reduce.  This one starts off with Kaffa getting the brunt of it, but almost immediately turns around on that point as King and a larger collection of nonwhite friends-as-much-as-trusties do a witch-hunt unlike any witch-hunt you'd expect from '30s pulp, with a similarly sharp turn on African traditional religion that's nearly as out of place.  MacReagh cannot completely escape his own prejudices or the expectations of his time, but this one gets as close to the event horizon as any of his stuff.

Titus Petronius Arbiter - The Satyricon The modern age has ground a lot of the obscenity off this one, which for many years was mostly famous, infamous and/or banned for its central plots of man-on-man sex; in 2017, it takes more than boyfucking to shock people.  This is probably for the better; with the false atmosphere of licentiousness cut out of it, this is as it was at the beginning, a spicy story of Roman idiots having hilarious misadventures that, by subtle exaggeration, hold the follies and fads of their time up to ridicule.  It is longer than it needs to be, and some of the jokes are poorly preserved, and this translation is contaminated by unnecessary footnotes and inclusion bodies of later forgers' porn that's been stapled in over the centuries, but it's still a good, true look at Rome as it actually was at the height of the empire, without the hagiography of a historian or the religio-political axe-grinding of the Christians.  Probably worth the struggle.

Willa Cather - April Twilights I was collecting Cather from her papers at the University of Nebraska, and had to read this in the process of reformatting it; poetry does not well survive HTML->ASCII transitions.  The deep and dark and bleak is strong here; through the classical allusions, the callbacks to Provencal troubadours, across the American landscape, the same refrain runs: "I am old and decrepit and not emotionally capable of loving other people".  So, relatable.  The widespread criticism of Cather, that she can't get herself out of traditional modes even when this is to her disadvantage, is held up by her poetry as well; there's more than a few places here where you've got to frown at a bodgingly conventional rhyme or metaphor that someone more open to modernity would almost have had to have done better.  But there are, even still parts where that traditionalism works well, and is effective; it's worth reading out for those, even at all that.

H.P. Lovecraft and others - Twenty-Nine Collaborative Stories Most of what we now recognize as the Cthulhu Mythos -- and definitely any kind of idea of Lovecraft's stuff as a coherent whole or linked world-system -- comes out of these stories as much as his own.  On his own, Lovecraft moved to the beat of his own drum and followed his ideas where they went; here, he helps friends and fans plug their fanfic into what becomes a shared universe.  The stories are not all great; Hazel Heal put up some classics here but also some stinkers, and most of Robert Barlow's contributions, especially as they range into sci-fi, are kind of eh.  Zealia Bishop, though, does yeoman service as Lovecraft's official trans-Mississippian correspondent, and Adolphe de Castro's top-class works settle Lovecraftian mysticism in real foreign lands.  It's worth getting through these: there's good stuff in here, and you also get the sense and feel of how Lovecraft actively built his 'school' -- and ensured that he was the one to influence the direction of weird fiction for years to come.

William Hope Hodgson - The House on the Borderland A true classic, this is potentially the very most black metal horror novel ever written.  The brutality of the swine creatures, the remote devastation of the time-blasted cosmos, the liminality of dreams and reality; Teitanblood and Xasthur and Inquisition hope and fail to convey this sense of unholy immensity, of uncaring timeless evil.  Hodgson hits some heights in his shorter stories, but here, he hits it absolutely out of the park.  Completely essential.

Suetonius - The Life of Claudius Claudius comes off in this one like I've observed German colonial rule as remembered in most places other than Africa: "not worse than necessary".  Suetonius doesn't miss the caprices of a guy who almost certainly was on the spectrum, and had other distinguishing impairments, but also faithfully records a lot of good works and good ideas, with less wastage and idiocy than the likes of his surrounding emperors.  The translator's appendix, as expected, freaks out about the results of Claudius' expedition to Britain, and continues to vainly expect the Roman people to want to get rid of effective and oppressive imperial rule to get back to the ineffective oppression of the senatorial republic.  How someone who translates Latin can be ignorant of "senatores boni viri, senatus mala bestia" and what that actually means in the context of government is beyond me.

Julius Caesar - De Bello Civili This is in three parts, double-text, and when I can understand what places are being talked about (still not 100%, even after all of this, on where the heck in Italy Brundusium is), it flows well and is as clear in its language as anything else of Caesar's.  Even the structure is well-laid: in book 1, Caesar starts the war, and wins a big victory in Spain; in book 2, one of his generals gets disastered in Africa; and in book 3, the epic conclusion and final battles.  Though this is still ultimately a public relations exercise, Caesar doesn't step back from his own disasters, and gives full credit to his foes: this does tend to make him look better when he beats them up, and it is curious how nothing is ever directly his fault, and how most reverses go to troops losing their head and acting without orders, which would be out of character for his faithful super-army if it didn't keep happening.  As always, Caesar leans on logistics; his focus on the relative supply situations in Spain and in Thessaly is the key to success, and a dead giveaway that this was written or at least dictated by the commander himself, and not by some biographer who wouldn't've had that experience in keeping an army fed and watered in the field.

Katherine Mansfield - Something Childish and Other Stories What's really cool in this collection of earlier Mansfield is that you get to see her evolve through the War: she's already mature, and really good, in the New Zealand and Continental tales that precede it, but after the title story (dated to 1914, with a collapse-out at the end that is a KILLER allegory for that August, even if unintended), you really start to see how the nervous stress of total war wears on a population engaged, how the greater position of women in society transforms her and her work, and leads her on towards self-discovery.  The later and more experimental stories are, in general, slightly better, but this is all good material -- and there's a hell of a sting in the tail at the end.

Henry W. Herbert - The Roman Traitor In his introduction Herbert mentions a friend who encouraged him to finish this book, without which it would never have been released.  This friend should be dug up and beaten soundly with rocks, because this rehash of the Catilline conspiracy is utterly unnecessary as a novel or as antiquarianism, and Herbert is an awful, awful writer whose torture of language and narrative structure would shame a Nero.  The day you write the phrase "bad conclave" is the day your editor should throw you through a door.  This isn't the worst book in the Bib. Romanica, but it may be the very most badly written.  Just read the actual history from Sallust and forget this stupid garbage.

Gustave Flaubert - Salammbo This takes a while to really get its feet under it and show where it's going, but once it does, look out.  Flaubert masterfully captures the brutality of warfare and the color of the ancient world, and his language is superbly translated; you put this next to the staid English garbage in the rest of the Bib. Romanica and you wonder why most of them even bothered.  The turn at the end hits like a ton of bricks, especially if you like me don't know anything about Carthaginian history and don't know what's coming -- but it's also the only possible ending for this captivating chronicle of horror, misery and nightmare.  Just excellent.

Willa Cather - My Antonia A deeply drawn narrative of love, growth, and the midwestern plains, this book is more enhanced than anything else by Cather's commitment to its place and time: childhood is always a lost world forever, but the place that Jim and Antonia grow up through is thoroughly lost a hundred years and more on, but it survives in these pages down to the dirt on the floors and the chaff under the characters' collars.  After the narrator goes to Omaha, the tale weakens a little, and the end, for modern audiences, is probably a little under-tuned, but this is Cather's flagship novel for a reason, and definitely rewards the time spent reading it.

Margaret Atwood - Negotiating With the Dead This is another lecture series like the Forster above, but coming from different source, moving in different ways, and much more about Atwood herself and the roots of her writing in the Canadian landscape and literary scene that shaped her.  There is a lot about writing as a living thing in this book, and very little about it as a process: it's kind of a synthesis-antithesis-conclusion out of Forster and Bickham, more perceptive than either and leaving Welty, poor soul so far from the modern perspective, in the absolute dust.  It may be a question of eras, or just one of sympathies -- an adequately intelligent writer of speculative fiction is going to necessarily fall in with Atwood's ideas about doing something meaningful that also keeps the lights on -- but this book, out of all of the four in this mini-course, hit the most home and told me the most about what I do that I didn't already know.  It doesn't have the coherent, lecturized feel of the Forster, but at times there are just the most amazing insights, and the craziest images out of that crazy time that was the middle 20th century, and with how good it was I'm fairly ashamed to not have read any other Atwood before it, which makes me just an awful person.  At least I'm in a damn library and probably can fix that now.

Willa Cather - The Bohemian Girl A novella that should probably better and more widely reputed than it is, this one is mostly a meditation on love, maturity, and switching horses in midstream, but Cather, like no one else, manages to defend both the dour, hard prairie homestead and the need to escape from it.  This is her "zwey seele wohnen, ach, in meinen Brust", and it's kind of a thing all through her fiction, but in here it's especially well developed, with a coda that unlike a lot of her other ones actually works.

Talbot Mundy - The Marriage of Meldrum Strange Sales figures or editorial comment must have highlighted the "big team" problems in the last book, because this one cuts it down to the essentials: Ommony and Gose and Ramsden for muscle and some minor characters.  The plot is a good and twisty romance, keeping everything real, and it is just magic to watch Ommony work calm while Gose spits science like a Bollywood comedian, yin and yang combining to catch everyone in every trap.  A rare gem after several misfires.

Talbot Mundy - Old Ugly-Face One of Mundy's real best, this is an epic navigation of the human heart, against the majestic Himalayas....played by psychics battling to ensure the succession of the Dalai Lama.  Mundy gon Mundy, but the love triangle here is perfect and the environments are astounding -- a must read.

D. W. O'Brien - Blitzkrieg in the Past There's a chapter in this one called "Tank Versus Dinosaur", and that's about the shape of it.  You could also say "Sergeant Rock goes to Pellucidar" and not miss by much; a M3 Grant and crew ends up in a fantasy cavemen-and-dinosaurs past and has some adventures while talking '40s smack, and then romps their way home.  What's cool about it for authors is how O'Brien writes around his dinosaur: there is no description at all of the beast or its species or attributes.  It is big, and makes angry noises, because the author could not be assed to take the time out to do research while writing this story.  And yet it works, unless you're reading really close; let this be a lesson for anyone who can't finish their research up exactly correct on deadline.

Talbot Mundy - The Ivory Trail A lot of this raw, brutal epic of survival in the east-African backcountry is probably from life; Mundy tried this life and failed at it before he became a writer, and the asides and incidental scenes can only be from bitter experience.  Others might expect a purer adventure -- you'd get one from MacReagh on these materials -- but Mundy has the essential truth of colonialism: there are no secrets, mere survival is hideously tough, and everyone else in the game is more brutal and better equipped.  Conrad might have had the literary chops and adventurousness to end this differently, but even he who fared into the Heart of Darkness didn't have the stomach to write a middle passage like Mundy does here with his heroes in German prison.

Talbot Mundy - Guns of the Gods This Yasmini adventure makes itself a prequel, of her youth and how she got into the position of wealth and information mastery that sets up her later career.  The plot is tight if less convoluted than some that I've been reading lately, and the incidents woven through the intrigue and the treasure hunt are fantastic.  On a deeper level, the real judgment and sensitivity in the negotiation of east and west by Tess and Yasmini makes up for the stray Americans happening into the heart of the tale, and in a real way this is Mundy's most openly and solidly anti-Raj, pro-Home Rule adventure yet.  For both an excellent story and what's probably a local maximum in wokeness, this comes highly recommended.

Thorne Smith - Rain In The Doorway A kind of Alice in Jazz Age NYC, this is a ridiculous madcap adventure that loses little in the passage of time and not much at all in the way it winds back down to reality.  Smart and stupid and sexy in all the best ways, this kind of hilarity is pretty much Smith's best stock in trade, and this particular book is one of the better examples.

Thorne Smith - Turnabout The least hair of maturity creeps into Smith's writing here, as one of his interminable boozing Lost Generation miscouples actually gets in a family way as well as into an inexplicable supernatural adventure.  The very very familiar central trick is well executed, and Tim's advancing pregnancy provides a nice frame to hang the rest of the events off of.  The end is a little pat with the reinsertion of the Dutch uncle, but you live and deal.  This is one of Smith's better, and a good occasion to round out the end of the string.

Wilkie Collins - Armadale Collins makes up for his bad start with this absolute beast of a romance, bound up with mysticism rather than being an encyclopedia, but still turned out with real and vital if slightly implausible people.  The consistent mystery of the vision unites the book, but the way that the various Armadales react to that vision, its interpretations, and each other, is solid and real.  It is an immense read that demanded like six hours of flight time, but it is definitely rewarding, and worth the bother of pounding through the huge narrative.

Wilkie Collins - No Name There is a tangled tale and a half in this one, a desperate adventure of roguery in the name of revenge that keeps getting tangled up with coincidence as much as fate or intent.  The links may be a little creaky, but this is a huge, smart, intensely twisting drama with a lead for the ages in Magdalen, and an adversary worthy of her steel in Lecomt.  The end is a little formula and takes a little long to wind down, but this is an artifact of the time and the expected conventions, and it inhibits the power of this novel but little.  Good good stuff.

Talbot Mundy - The Thrilling Adventures of Dick Anthony of Arran "For a few days Cairo swallowed Dick."  NO.  Shut it.  Shut up.  Be mature.  Tuned to a compositional level somewhere between Sexton Blake and Lovecraft's middle-school works, this is not good or well-written Mundy, and there are research holes in it that might have been stabbed through with a claymore.  In places, his later quality pokes through, but in the main this is a stolid imitation of part Kipling, part John Buchan by a writer who does not have enough name weight to force publishers to his way of thinking rather than the reverse.  This leftover should have stayed left over and buried.

These were excerpted from the full writeups of the complete chronological list below, which accounts for frequent hanging references.  The pure volume of this list indicates why I didn't copy the whole of the writeup blocks into this entry.

Robert Barr - The Sword Maker E. Rice Burroughs - Land of Terror E. Rice Burroughs - Tarzan and the Leopard Men L. Winifred Faraday (tr) - Tain bo Cuailnge Robert Barr - The Triumphs of Eugene Valmont Richard Rhodes - The Making of the Atomic Bomb Robert Wallace - Death Flight Richard Rhodes - Dark Sun: The Making of the Hydrogen Bomb Richard Rhodes - Twilight of the Bombs Robert Wallace - Empire of Terror Robert Wallace - Fangs of Murder Robert Wallace - The Sinister Dr. Wong Mary Cagle - Let's Speak English! Robert Wallace - The Tycoon of Crime Stella Benson - Kwan-yin William H. Ainsworth - The Spectre Bride Robert Eustace - The Face of the Abbot Robert Eustace - The Blood-Red Cross Robert Eustace - Madam Sara Robert Eustace - Followed Robert Eustace - The Secret of Emu Plain Arthur Conan Doyle - The Uncharted Coast Edgar Rice Burroughs - Apache Devil Edgar Rice Burroughs - Tarzan and the Tarzan Twins Edgar Rice Burroughs - Tarzan the Invincible William W. Astor - The Last of the Tenth Legion Edgar Rice Burroughs - Tarzan the Magnificent Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Bandit of Hell's Bend Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Cave Girl Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Deputy Sheriff of Comanche County Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Efficiency Expert Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Girl From Farris' Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Girl From Hollywood Stella Benson - Living Alone Stella Benson - The Desert Islander Victor Appleton - Tom Swift and his Giant Telescope Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Lad and the Lion Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Man-Eater Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Moon Men Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Outlaw of Torn Edgar Rice Burroughs - The Rider Edgar Rice Burroughs - The War Chief Abraham Merritt - Burn, Witch, Burn! Abraham Merritt - Creep, Shadow! Abraham Merritt - Seven Steps To Satan Abraham Merritt - The Dwellers in the Mirage Abraham Merritt - The Face in the Abyss Abraham Merritt - The Last Poet and the Robots Edward Spencer Beesly - Catiline, Clodius, and Tiberius Malcolm Jameson - Collected Stories Fantasy Magazine - The Challenge From Beyond The Strand - As Far As They Had Got J. M. Synge - The Playboy of the Western World Abdullah/Brand/Means/Sheehan - The Ten-Foot Chain Stella Benson - This Is The End Stella Benson - Twenty Emily Beesly - Stories From the History of Rome Hugh Allingham - Captain Cuellar's Adventures in Connaught and Ulster, A.D. 1588 James DeMille - The Martyr of the Catacombs Sallust - Bellum Catalinae Edmond Rostand - Cyrano de Bergerac "Captain Adam Seaborn" - Symzonia, A Voyage of Discovery R.E.H. Dyer - Raiders of the Sarhad Walter S. Cramp - Psyche H.P. Lovecraft - From Beyond Robert F. Pennell - Ancient Rome Garrett Putnam Serviss - Edison's Conquest of Mars Irving Batcheller - Charge It Irving Batcheller - Vergillius Duffield Osborne - The Lion's Brood Dale Carnegie - How to Win Friends and Influence People J. A. Buck - The Slave Brand of Sleman bin Ali J. A. Buck - Killers' Kraal J. A. Buck - Sargasso of Lost Safaris J. A. Buck - Sword of Gimshai Wilhelm Walloth - Empress Octavia Stephen Crane - The Bride Comes to Yellow Sky Stephen Crane - The Blue Hotel Stephen Crane - The Open Boat Stephen Crane - Maggie: A Girl of the Streets Stephen Crane - The Monster and More Stendahl - Armance Victor Appleton II - Tom Swift and the Electronic Hydrolung Victor Appleton II - Tom Swift and the Visitor From Planet X Robert Curtis - Edgar Wallace Each Way John Peter Drummond - Bride of the Serpent God John Peter Drummond - The Nirvana of the Seven Voodoos John Peter Drummond - Tigress of Twanbi Robert Eustace - The Brotherhood of the Seven Kings Augusta Groner - The Pocket Diary Found In The Snow Augusta Groner - The Case of the Registered Letter Augusta Groner - The Case of the Lamp That Went Out Augusta Groner - The Case of the Golden Bullet Augusta Groner - The Pool of Blood in the Pastor's Study Anonymous for The Wizard - Six-Gun Gorilla Walter Horatio Pater - Marius the Epicurean John Russel Russell - Adventures in the Moon and Other Worlds Answers Magazine - Sexton Blake J. U. Giesy with Junius B. Smith - The Occult Detector J. U. Giesy with Junius B. Smith - The Significance of the High "D" J. U. Giesy with Junius B. Smith - The House of Invisible Bondage Stendahl - The Abbess of Castro and Others John Aylscough - Faustula John Aylscough - Mariquita Robert W. Chambers - The Maker of Moons and Other Stories Robert W. Chambers - The Slayer of Souls Edith Nesbit - My School Days Edith Nesbit - Re-collected  (self re-collection) Edith Nesbit - The Magic World Edith Nesbit - Wet Magic Stanley G. Weinbaum - The Planet of Doubt Stanley G. Weinbaum - Smothered Seas Stanley G. Weinbaum - Graph Stanley G. Weinbaum - Flight on Titan Stanley G. Weinbaum - The Red Peri Stanley G. Weinbaum - The Black Flame Stanley G. Weinbaum - The Dark Other Stanley G. Weinbaum - The New Adam Gordon MacReagh - re-collected shorter stories  (self re-collection) Stendahl - The Charterhouse of Parma Stendahl - The Red and the Black Sylvanus Cobb - Atholbane Sylvanus Cobb - Ben Hamed Sylvanus Cobb - Ivan the Serf Sylvanus Cobb - Bianca Sylvanus Cobb - Orion the Gold-Beater Sylvanus Cobb - The Gunmaker of Moscow Sylvanus Cobb - The Knight of Leon Sylvanus Cobb - The Smuggler's Ward Talbot Mundy - Black Light Talbot Mundy - Burberton and Ali Beg Talbot Mundy - C. I. D. Talbot Mundy - Caesar Dies Talbot Mundy - For the Salt Which He Had Eaten Talbot Mundy - From Hell, Hull, and Halifax Talbot Mundy - Full Moon J. U. Giesy - Palos of the Dog Star Pack J. U. Giesy with Junius B. Smith - The Wistaria Scarf J. U. Giesy with Junius B. Smith - The Purple Light Gordon MacReagh - The Slave Runner Gordon MacReagh - The Ebony Juju Gordon MacReagh - The Lost End of Nowhere Gordon MacReagh - Quill Gold Gordon MacReagh - Unprofitable Ivory Gordon MacReagh - The Witch-Casting Gordon MacReagh - Strangers of the Amulet Gordon MacReagh - The Ivory Killers Gordon MacReagh - Black Drums Talking Walter Moers - The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear Gordon MacReagh - Wardens of the Big Game Gordon MacReagh - Raiders of Abyssinia Gordon MacReagh - A Man to Kill Gordon MacReagh - Slaves For Ethiopia Gordon MacReagh - Strong As Gorillas Gordon MacReagh - Blood and Steel Gordon MacReagh - White Waters and Black Cardinal Newman - Callista J. U. Giesy with Junius B. Smith - The Master Mind Titus Petronius Arbiter - The Satyricon Talbot Mundy - Her Reputation Giancarlo Livraghi - The Power of Stupidity Willa Cather - April Twilights H.P. Lovecraft and others - Twenty-Nine Collaborative Stories J. U. Giesy with Junius B. Smith - Rubies of Doom Abraham Merritt - The Moon Pool Abraham Merritt - The Metal Monster Abraham Merritt - The Ship of Ishtar John G. Lockhart - Valerius William Hope Hodgson - Carnacki, Supernatural Detective and Others William Hope Hodgson - Carnacki the Ghost Finder William Hope Hodgson - The House on the Borderland Suetonius - The Life of Julius Caesar Suetonius - The Life of Augustus Caesar Suetonius - The Life of Tiberius Caesar Suetonius - The Life of Caligula Suetonius - The Life of Claudius Suetonius - The Life of Nero Suetonius - The Life of Galba Suetonius - The Life of Otho Suetonius - The Life of Vitellus Suetonius - The Life of Vespasian Suetonius - The Life of Titus Suetonius - The Life of Domitian The Lock and Key Library - Classic Mystery and Detective Stories - Old Time English Hume Nisbet - The Demon Spell b/w The Vampire Maid Hume Nisbet - The Land of the Hibiscus Blossom Hume Nisbet - The Swampers E. Hoffman Price - The Girl From Samarcand Flavius Philostratus - The Life of Apollonius H. P. Lovecraft - At the Mountains of Madness H. P. Lovecraft - Selected Essays including Supernatural Horror in Literature H. P. Lovecraft - The Case of Charles Dexter Ward H. P. Lovecraft - The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath and Others H. P. Lovecraft - The Dream Cycle H. P. Lovecraft - The Dunwich Horror H. P. Lovecraft - The Shadow Out of Time H. P. Lovecraft - The Shadow Over Innsmouth H. P. Lovecraft - The Whisperer in Darkness H. P. Lovecraft - His Earliest Writings H. P. Lovecraft - Poems and Fragments  (self re-collection) H. P. Lovecraft - The Cthulhu Mythos  (self re-collection) H. P. Lovecraft - Tales of Monstrosity  (self re-collection) H. P. Lovecraft - Tales of the Crypt  (self re-collection) H. P. Lovecraft - Tales of Paganism  (self re-collection) Edward Bulwer-Lytton - The Last Days of Pompeii Gavin Menzies - 1421: The Year China Discovered America Ernst Eckstein - Quintus Claudius Julius Caesar - The African Wars Julius Caesar - The Alexandrine War Julius Caesar - De Bello Civili Julius Caesar - The Hispanic War Talbot Mundy - Cock o' the North Julius Caesar - The Gallic Wars Katherine Mansfield - Bliss and Other Stories Katherine Mansfield - In A German Pension Katherine Mansfield - Something Childish and Other Stories Katherine Mansfield - The Garden Party and Other Stories John W. Graham - Nearea Andy Adams - A Texas Matchmaker Andy Adams - Cattle Brands Andy Adams - Reed Anthony, Cowman Andy Adams - The Log of a Cowboy Andy Adams - Wells Brothers Charles Kingsley - Hypatia Francis Stevens - Claimed! Francis Stevens - Nightmare! Francis Stevens - Serapion Francis Stevens - The Heads of Cerberus Francis Stevens - The Rest of the Stories  (self re-collection) Talbot Mundy - Hira Singh Henry W. Herbert - The Roman Traitor Robert Howard - Tales of Breckenridge Elkins Robert Howard - Tales of El Borak Robert Howard - Tales of the West Robert Howard - Swords of the Red Brotherhood Robert Howard - The Black Stranger Robert Howard - The Pike Bearfield Stories Robert Howard - The Exploits of Buckner Jeopardy Grimes Robert Howard - Weird Poetry  (self re-collection) Robert Howard - Collected Juvenilia Robert Howard - The Spicy Adventures of Wild Bill Clanton  (self re-collection) Robert Howard - Tales of the Weird West  (self re-collection) Robert Howard - The Treasure of Shaibar Khan Robert Howard - Red Blades of Black Cathay Robert Howard - The Isle of Pirates' Doom Robert Howard - Dig Me No Grave Robert Howard - The Garden of Fear Robert Howard - The God in the Bowl Virgil - The Aneid Gustave Flaubert - Herodias Gustave Flaubert - Madame Bovary Talbot Mundy - Hookum Hai Gustave Flaubert - Salammbo Willa Cather - Alexander's Bridge Willa Cather - My Antonia Eudora Welty - On Writing E.M. Forster - Aspects of the Novel Jack M. Bickham - The 38 Most Common Fiction Writing Mistakes (and How to Avoid Them) Margaret Atwood - Negotiating With the Dead Arthur Conan Doyle - Fairies Photographed Arthur Conan Doyle - Great Britain and the Next War Willa Cather - My Autobiography, by S. S. McClure Willa Cather - O Pioneers! Willa Cather - One of Ours Willa Cather - The Song of the Lark Heinrich Brode - Tippu Tib Willa Cather - The Troll Garden Willa Cather - Youth and the Bright Medusa Willa Cather - The Bohemian Girl Willa Cather - The Affair at Grover Station Willa Cather - The Count of Crow's Nest Willa Cather - The Shortest Stories  (self re-collection) Willa Cather - Tales ABC  (self re-collection) Willa Cather - Tales DEF  (self re-collection) Willa Cather - Tales G-K-O  (self re-collection) Willa Cather - Tales PRST  (self re-collection) Willa Cather - Stories W  (self re-collection) Henryk Sienkiewicz - Quo Vadis Charles Darwin - The Voyage of the Beagle Sinclair Lewis - Babbitt Talbot Mundy - Jimgrim and Allah's Peace Talbot Mundy - East and West Talbot Mundy - The Iblis at Ludd Talbot Mundy - The Seventeen Thieves of El-Khalil Talbot Mundy - The Lion of Petra Talbot Mundy - The Woman Ayisha Talbot Mundy - The Last Trooper Talbot Mundy - The King in Check Talbot Mundy - A Secret Society Talbot Mundy - Moses and Mrs. Aintree Talbot Mundy - The Mystery of Khufu's Tomb Talbot Mundy - Jungle Jest Talbot Mundy - The Nine Unknown Talbot Mundy - The Marriage of Meldrum Strange Talbot Mundy - The Hundred Days Talbot Mundy - OM: The Secret of Ahbor Valley Talbot Mundy - The Devil's Guard Talbot Mundy - Jimgrim, King of the World Talbot Mundy - Machassan Ah Talbot Mundy - Oakes Respects An Adversary Talbot Mundy - Old Ugly-Face Talbot Mundy - Payable to Bearer Talbot Mundy - Poems and Dicta Talbot Mundy - Rung Ho! Talbot Mundy - Selected Stories Gordon MacReagh - Projection From Epsilon Leroy Yerxa - Back from the Crypt  (self re-collection) Garrett P. Serviss - A Columbus of Space Garrett P. Serviss - The Moon Metal Garrett P. Serviss - The Second Deluge Garrett P. Serviss - The Sky Pirate Sinclair Lewis - Arrowsmith Robert Buchanan - Camlan and the Shadow of the Sword Robert Buchanan - God and the Man Henry R. Schoolcraft - To the Sources of the Mississippi River D. W. O'Brien - Squadron of the Damned D. W. O'Brien - Blitzkrieg in the Past D. W. O'Brien - The Floating Robot D. W. O'Brien - Gone In 20 Kilobytes  (self re-collection) D. W. O'Brien - Lost in Space  (self re-collection) D. W. O'Brien - Ghosts of War  (self re-collection) William Ware - Aurelian William Ware - Zenobia J. S. Fletcher - The Stories  (self re-collection) J. S. Fletcher - Perris of the Cherry-Trees J. S. Fletcher - The Middle Temple Murder J. S. Fletcher - The Paradise Mystery J. S. Fletcher - The Safety Pin Francis H. Atkins - The Short Stories  (self re-collection) M. P. Shiel - In Short  (self re-collection) Francis H. Atkins - A Studio Mystery Francis H. Atkins - The Black Opal Talbot Mundy - The Eye of Zeitoon Talbot Mundy - The Ivory Trail Talbot Mundy - The Man From Poonch Talbot Mundy - The Middle Way Talbot Mundy - The Red Flame of Erinpura Talbot Mundy - The Thunder Dragon Gate Talbot Mundy - Tros of Samothrace Talbot Mundy - Queen Cleopatra Talbot Mundy - Purple Pirate Talbot Mundy - A Soldier and a Gentleman Talbot Mundy - Winds of the World Talbot Mundy - King of the Khyber Rifles Talbot Mundy - Guns of the Gods Talbot Mundy - Caves of Terror Thorne Smith - Biltmore Oswald: The Diary of a Hapless Recruit Thorne Smith - Biltmore Oswald: Very Much At Sea Thorne Smith - Birthday Present Thorne Smith - Did She Fall? Thorne Smith - Dream's End Thorne Smith - Haunts and By-Paths Thorne Smith - Rain In The Doorway Thorne Smith - Skin and Bones Thorne Smith - The Bishop's Jaegers Thorne Smith - The Glorious Pool Thorne Smith - The Night Life of the Gods Thorne Smith - The Stray Lamb Thorne Smith - The Jovial Ghosts: The Misadventures of Topper Thorne Smith - Topper Takes A Trip Thorne Smith - Turnabout Thorne Smith - Yonder's Henry Wilkie Collins - Antonina Wilkie Collins - Armadale Wilkie Collins - I Say No Wilkie Collins - Miss or Mrs Wilkie Collins - My Lady's Money Wilkie Collins - No Name Wilkie Collins - The Haunted Hotel Wilkie Collins - The Law and the Lady Leroy Yerxa - Death Rides At Night D. W. O'Brien - Flight From Farisha Gordon MacReagh - Out of Africa  (self re-collection) Peter Cheyney - Quick Draws  (self re-collection) Talbot Mundy - The Thrilling Adventures of Dick Anthony of Arran D. W. O'Brien - The Last Analysis M. P. Shiel - Children of the Wind Edgar Wallace - 1925: The Story of a Fatal Peace M. P. Shiel - Prince Zaleski Edgar Wallace - A Case For Angel, Esquire M. P. Shiel - Shapes in the Fire Edgar Wallace - A Deed of Gift M. P. Shiel - The Evil That Men Do Edgar Wallace - A Debt Discharged M. P. Shiel - The Last Miracle Edgar Wallace - A Dream M. P. Shiel - The Lord of the Sea Edgar Wallace - A Raid on a Gambling Hell

[pauljarrett96-blog]

Don't read this for motivation

A humbling side effect of running a company that has some public recognition of its employee culture is that I’m sought out by founders, CEOs, HR professionals, employees, students etc. to comment on the topic of “culture.”

The problem is that many people who contact me get “good culture” confused with “motivating employees.” Or worse, “squeezing more work out of the team.” The assumption is that if their company has a great culture, people will be motivated to work longer hours and be more productive.

Here’s the thing: Great culture and high work productivity are loosely related. Sorry, your foosball table will not motivate people to work 80 hour weeks. Culture has to do with engagement and environment, not motivation.

To create exceptional company culture, provide the environment and create engagement. An engaged team in the right environment works to meet their goals because they have a sense of responsibility to the team and a clear understanding of the final outcome. The Bulu Box crew knows where the company should be in one month, six months and two years from now, and they also know how their daily tasks and responsibilities lead to accomplishing that goal.

Even tasks like taking out the trash and dusting are assigned for a reason and are the responsibility of everyone. The team knows we do those things (for now) to instill the idea that nobody will do the work for us. They get it. They understand long-term where we’re going and what it takes to get us there.

The question isn’t, “How do we create a culture that motivates employees?”What people should really be asking is “How do we promote discipline within a great, fun culture?” After all, some of the most fun I’ve ever had has happened while trying to accomplish the impossible.

Sometimes work sucks

Before I proceed, let’s be clear about two things:

This is what works for my style as a leader. After all, there’s more than one way to bake a cake.

Work isn’t always awesome. In fact, it can suck sometimes and that’s okay. It’s normal.

If anyone has spent time reading about the ‘stuff’ that turns crazy dream seekers into successful entrepreneurs or listened to me, Matt Boyd & Brian Ardinger on the Inside Outside Podcast, you know that these two traits that rise above all the rest: Risk and Grit. The best entrepreneurs get that grit should contain discipline. Discipline helps you grind through the hard times to keep making progress, even when it’s hard, boring, and stressful.

Discipline is one of the most underrated and least mentioned topics when it comes to conversations about startups yet there are thousands of articles, pics and quotes on motivation. Maybe that’s because discipline is difficult where motivation is easy. Motivation is a daydream. Discipline is the day labor.

Discipline is better than motivation and here’s why: Motivation is easy to find and lose. Motivation is selfish. When you wait around to be motivated, you’re saying, “I want some external force to compel me to accomplish a task.” Then, when you keep putting it off and binge some Netflix instead, the responsibility isn’t on you. The motivation wasn’t there and that’s an acceptable excuse.

Discipline is different. Discipline gets shit done. It can be boring, it can be repetitive, but think about who that task benefits. You can close out of Reddit and Instagram and check-off task XYZ because it’s for the team. Doing those “ugh” tasks every damn day? Doing those “ugh” tasks every day only to find out the plan is changing? Accepting failure and resetting your course no matter what — that’s discipline.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. Discipline is fucking hard and easy to lose. That’s not being extreme — that’s being real. Not everyone can determine a goal, break down its steps, proceed, fail, make new steps, fail (x100), proceed, make new steps, progress, make new goals, and never stop. I’ve only met a handful of people in my lifetime that have successfully mastered this. It’s not a talent — it’s a skill. (BTW — Thanks, Coach Witulski for sending me to J. Rob Camp where I learned a lot of this at 17 years old.)

Here’s a few things that I have learned in the 5 years since founding Bulu Box that have helped me increase my discipline:

1. Ruthlessly edit

Fact: The more decisions you have to make in a day, the less effective you will be. What are you wearing today? Are you going to drink coffee this morning? What email should you get to first? Should you RSVP to that party this weekend? These are decisions we make within the first minutes of the day. If you’re running a business, you’re going to make a lot of decisions. But, the more decisions you make, the less effective you’ll be.

You need to keep your brain clear so you can reason through the big decisions without worrying about the ones that don’t matter. It’s why I love my gym (CrossFit…I know, I know). I show up and the workout is already mapped out for me — no decisions to be made. I try to make my day seem like that as much as possible. I eat the same thing every day, cycle the same predetermined outfits, and tons of other decision-saving habits. Save your brain power and decision making ability for when it matters; it will increase your willpower for better discipline. It will pay in spades for everyone around you.

2. Plan ahead

Want to get fit? Want to read more? Want to meditate? Want to start a company? Clear out your calendar and plan a recurring block of time for this task or hobby. Ruthlessly edit (#1) your calendar if you need to make space. This can even apply to relationships! I want to be a better husband, so Thursday night is “Date Night” on the calendar, repeating forever. When you become an entrepreneur, your personal and work lives merge. Take advantage of your work tools to help run your personal life. Things on the calendar get done.

3. Visualize the outcome

Start with the end. Whether it’s selling your company, losing 30 lbs, playing the piano, whatever it is, spend a considerable amount of time mentally visualizing the outcome. From there, ask yourself: Is it worth this? Will all the ruthless editing, planning, failing, etc. be worth it when you have what you want?

4. Fail, reset, fail again

Nobody wakes up and says, “I’m going to run a marathon today,” having never run before, and then runs it. There’s a long path of training, planning, pain and failure. Getting used to failure is part of discipline; you have to commit to trying again. You will fall off track. You will lose 20 lbs and gain 5 lbs back over the weekend…but will you get back on track Monday? Tuesday? Thursday? Cool! You got back on track and that’s more than what 99% of people do. And don’t forget, you’re still down 15 lbs! Good job, you!

5. Delete emotion

Focus on metrics, plans, and concrete items. What is the goal? By how much did you make or miss it? Why did you make or miss it? Great. Now, edit the plan and keep going. That’s all! You need to delete the inner voice telling you you’re tired, you deserve a break, you don’t know what you’re doing. Be kind to yourself and don’t give up. Never give up; by pushing yourself to get on track, you’re beating most humans.

Take calculated risks (and a few uncalculated). Grit through the hard times and have the discipline to reach the goals you set back when you were full of short-lived motivation. That said, my time is up and a calendar notification just popped up. So go grab another cup coffee, crank up that grind playlist, and go-ta-work for the team.

—

Paul Jarrett is the co-founder of Bulu Box, which helps customers realize their healthy living and weight loss goals and connects brands to qualified consumers through data-driven sampling and ecommerce technology. Paul is no stranger to vitamins and supplements. He used supplements to help him become a 307lb D1 starting defensive lineman in the Big 12, then lose over 100 pounds when his playing days were over. Paul has helped launch million dollar brands, and executed campaigns for Lowe’s and Nike. In 2010, Paul joined Complete Nutrition where he built the marketing and communications department and positioned Complete Nutrition for success in a saturated market. The company became one of the fastest growing startups in the country.

Paul would like to give props to Marcus Quevedo & Mariah Nimmich for help with this article.