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its-me-im-coraline · 4 years ago

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Curiosity Killed the Cat // Thomas Raggi

words // 1179

warnings // small sexual scene, subby thomas, me trying to be poetic ig

pairing // Thomas Raggi x Gender Neutral Reader

author's note // i haven't written smut in yeaaaars omg I feel so rusty. let me know if this sucks or if you liked it. big thank you to this amazing person, @tabi-toast for proof reading this cause I suck at proof readin so yay (although you might want to read it again cause I might have changed it in a spur of inspiration last night 👀)

request // yes, here

summary // Thomas and reader find themselves in quite the compromising position for the poor eyes of a band member. Seems like the lines between work and personal life are quite blurry for the two.

It all started during the summer; a hot June day, to be clichè. I had just started working for the group Måneskin, as part of their PR team. It has been quite the interesting job for me, being new in the city of Rome and whatnot, coming to be part of the team for a music group seemed magical at first. Key word: at first. As they gained more and more popularity my job became relatively hectic, my anxiety rising like a virus latched onto my brain and never letting it go. Thus how I found myself in this predicament.

Being around the band meant creating bonds with them, some more than others. It is not that I don't like it, but rules are a thing; rules that put my job on the line over the risky looks or the racy touches here and there. But some rules are just made to be broken. Any feelings like that were bound to be hidden and never been seen by anyone but him.

The first time I got caught up in Thomas is a blur. There was some drinks, some celebration happening, and neither of us truly wanted to be there. At first the balcony felt like a good idea, with the fresh air and allowing him to take a smoke as we spoke. Maybe it was the young of our age, or maybe is the deep attraction we have for each other, that kept us talking as if there was no tomorrow. Maybe it was the wine, or the whiskey, that led us to sneak out of the venue. No one knows what it was neither how it happened.

The next morning was a blurry dream. Bleary eyes opening up in an unfamiliar enviroment, the light shining in my eyes and the soft breaths of someone. Saying it was a shock is an understatement. My heart was beating out of my chest. They can't know. But I do, and it is enough to fill me up with guilt. So I got up and left, just like that, forgetting about that night, or at least trying to.

The thing is that I could not get him out of my head since that event. His hands on my body or his begging, begging for something to happen, to be given to him. Every sinful move of my body on his was clouding my mind, day in and day out, for weeks. It was a never-leaving thought, a film I tried ending so many times. But the truth is I need it; I need him, and as it seems he needs me, too. That night was just the start of an addiction.

About a month later, it happened again, but this time we were both fully sober, only being drunk on each other. We both wanted it fully, very well in our minds knowing this. It was spoken out loud, in words and in action how much we craved for this. From the second time and after it became a reoccurring thing; an arrangment neither could deny. We mutually agreed that this was a perfect stress reliever - no strings attached, no emotions other than the friendship we had grown to share so it was not awkward being around each other, we just fulfilled each other's needs without expecting anything out of it, without others expecting anything from it. It was ment to be a deal, there were meant to be no feelings and we both thought we had that perfected, but we were mostly hiding our feelings as we were hidding our noises; badly.

Once again we found ourselves hiding away, this time it was more public than usual. His dressing room. The door wouldn't lock, and as much as I tried to deny it, the excitement of possibly getting caught is what drove me even more insane, besides the view of the man beneath my body.

— smutty moment in case you don't want to read it, it isn't necessary —

So there he was now, withering, struggling beneath my finger tips. It started softly, hands roaming his body, lips attached to each other. Every kiss was like nectar and every move was like petals. How could something feel so soft but so rough at the same time?

"Oh mio dio, fai qualcosa, per fav-" could not even finish his sentence as my hands moved all over his dick before my lips attached to it momentarily, a swift shuck on his tip and a kiss, before moving away again.

"I told you to be quiet, pet. It's like you want everyone to know what a naughty boy you are, no?" I swear the effect I had on the man. Just one simple word and his whole body shuddered, no need for anything else. "Besides, I am not sure if you should get rewarded for your behavior tonight."

"No no, please, I tried, I really did, per favore."

"That's just disrespect, pet. I might as well just," stop. All I did was stop as he wiggled beneath me on the couch.

"I said, be quiet! Now be a good boy and do a little something for me. Only then will you get what you want, yeah?"

He nodded his head, still so drowsy from the pleasure and the pain; such addictive delirium he was in.

"Use. your. words." His eyes were glossy, as if from crying, but he wasn't willing to stop this, so words he used. A simple si, nothing else, it was enough to show me how he was behaving.

"Now, show me how well you can pleasure me," I said, laying back on the couch, waiting for his hands and lips to do their work on me.

— end of smutty moment —

"Hey, Thomas, did I leave my ch- You're at it again?" At that moment everything went in slow motion. Damiano's voice was heard so close to us, inside the room, but could it be.

"Get the fuck out of here? What are you looking at?"

"Yes, yes, sorry," and with that he was out the room, leaving me and Thomas alone again.

For a second neither of us knew what to do or think. Not only did Damiano just walk in on us, on a position that no one was supposed to know of, he already knew. I couldn't understand which is worse in that momen. Did anyone else know? Did my superiors know? Oh my what if they did?

In the moment we just stopped. Paused our predicament and got dressed up again, hoping that we could clear it all up after their show. So we waited. We waited till the show was over. And until we all got together. But it was quiet, not a word about what happened. Damiano wouldn't say a word, just stare, sternly, seeing that even then neither of us could keep away. If looks could kill his would've been bloody but both Thomas and I would go down satisfied.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever

#maneskin imagine #thomas raggi imagine #maneskin fanfiction #måneskin #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic

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astrognossienne · 3 years ago

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scandalous star: gary cooper -an analysis

“I don’t like to see exaggerated airs and exploding egos in people who are already established. No player ever rises to prominence solely on talent. They’re molded by forces other than themselves. They should remember this – and at least twice a week drop to their knees and thank Providence for elevating them from cow ranches, dime store ribbon counters and bookkeeping desks. ” - Gary Cooper

He didn’t say much, but when he did, it carried a lot of weight. He was the archetypal hero of the Old West; the quintessential masculine ideal of the stoic and “strong silent type” that most Taurus men are. But for famously laconic Gary Cooper, his good looks and earnest, haunted eyes for decades made him the quintessential lonely American of motion pictures.He was a more equanimous, human protagonist versus boisterous, bigger-than-life Hollywood supermen. He was renowned for his quiet, understated acting style and his individualistic, emotionally restrained, but at times intense screen persona, which was particularly well suited to the many Westerns he made. He was a man’s man...as well as a ladies’ man. Cooper became a hero to many, even as he developed a reputation as one of the most notorious philanderers in Hollywood. Privately a debonair ladykiller with a taste for high society, he crafted an image as just the opposite from his prototype cowboy image he materfully portrayed on the silver screen. He was insatiable, before and during his marriage. How did he reconcile his moral righteousness onscreen (Taurus sun) with his philandering offscreen (Sagittarius moon)? That was the work of the fixers, gossip magazines, and the studio system at large, which ensured that Cooper was never caught, never denounced, and held up as a paragon of American values.

Gary Cooper, according to astrotheme, was a Taurus sun and Sagittarius moon. He was born Frank James Cooper in Helena, Montana, the second son of an English farmer from Bedfordshire, who later became an American lawyer and judge, Charles Henry Cooper (1865-1946), and Kent-born Alice (née Brazier) Cooper (1873-1967). As a child, he met a freed slave woman named Mary Fields, otherwise known as Stagecoach Mary, and so awed by her was she that he later wrote an account of his memories of her in Ebony magazine. His mother hoped for their two sons to receive a better education than that available in Montana and arranged for the boys to attend Dunstable Grammar School in Bedfordshire, England between 1910 and 1913. Upon the outbreak of World War I, Cooper’s mother brought her sons home and enrolled them in a Bozeman, Montana, high school. Upon graduation, he eventually matriculated at Grinnell College in Grinnell, IA, where he attempted to nurture a passion for drawing - until a serious car accident ended his college days in the summer of 1920. He would recover from his severely injured hip through an odd but painful therapy, horseback riding.

When his father retired from the bench and moved his mother to Los Angeles, Cooper gave up agriculture classes to try his hand as a Hollywood extra. Cooper played an extra in a handful of silent films before arriving on the set of The Winning of Barbara Worth in 1926. The actor cast as the second male lead didn’t show, and someone shoved Cooper into the part. He appeared with Clara Bow (who soon became one of his conquests) in her star-making film It, but it was his appearance in another Bow vehicle Wings, released later that same year, truly launched his career. He plays a World War I flying cadet, and although his screentime was still relatively short, there was one scene — an extended close-up shot, the light streaming in from outside — in which he looked gorgeous. In 1929, he filmed The Wolf Song with Lupe Vélez. He soon had an affair with Velez, who purportedly claimed that Cooper “has the biggest organ in Hollywood but not the ass to push it in well.” For more on their relationship, read my star analysis on Lupe.

Cooper filmed The Virginian — his first real “talkie,” and the film was a major hit and cemented the foundation of Cooper’s image. His ability to project elements of his own personality onto the characters he portrayed, to appear natural and authentic in his roles, and to underplay and deliver restrained performances calibrated for the camera and the screen helped make him a cinematic success, often lauded by those he worked with. However, his good looks and charisma made him a success with women, whether he worked with them or not. Over the next few years, Cooper was paired with the most gorgeous and promising female stars in Hollywood —with Carole Lombard in I Take This Woman (whom he slept with), Claudette Colbert in His Woman (whom he allegedly slept with), Marlene Dietrich in Morocco and Desire (who he famously slept with more than once), and Joan Blondell in Make Me a Star (who he allegedly slept with). In 1932, Cooper and his Paramount “rival,” Cary Grant, were cast against Tallulah Bankhead in Devil and the Deep (1932). Like Lupe Velez, Bankhead was a loose cannon, with most famous quote being:

“The only reason I went to Hollywood was to fuck that divine Gary Cooper.”

Amidst all his public and private action, Cooper began courting Veronica “Rocky” Balfe, a starlet who went by the stage name of Sandra Shaw. She was also best known as the blonde dropped by King Kong. The two were wed in late 1933. Balfe retired from the screen to become a wife and mother, with her giving birth to their only child, Maria, in 1937. Cooper portrayed a new type of hero—a champion of the common man—in films like Mr. Deeds Goes To Washington and 1941′s Sergeant York (which won him his first of two Best Actor Oscars). Cooper met Ernest Hemingway at Sun Valley in October 1940 and they were friends for the rest of his life. He co-starred with Ingrid Bergman (with whom he had a year-long affair with) in a the film adaptation of Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. He kept starring in more films and bedding his female co-stars until he got more than he bargained for when he made The Fountainhead. Naturally, the 47-year-old Cooper had an affair with his co-star, the 21-year-old Patricia Neal. However, this time things got crazy: Neal wound up pregnant with Cooper’s child. He insisted she have an abortion. When Cooper’s long-suffering wife found out about the relationship, she sent a telegram demanding he end it. This didn’t work; he also confessed that he was in love with Neal, and continued to see her. Cooper and his wife legally separated in May of 1951. Cooper’s daughter Maria, by then in her early teens, famously spat on Neal in public. Neal later claimed that Cooper hit her after she went on a date with Kirk Douglas. Neal ended their relationship in late December 1951. Amid all this drama, Cooper starred in what is now regarded as his defining role: the beleaguered sheriff in High Noon, which won him his second Best Actor Oscar. In later life, he became involved in a relationship with the costume designer Irene, and was, according to Irene, "the only man she ever loved".

Maybe all his previous actions had an affect on him because Cooper converted to Catholicism in 1958, and reconciled with his wife and daughter. Also, he began starring in films that centered around searching for redemption, such as Friendly Persuasion (1956) and Man of the West (1958). In 1960, Cooper fell ill with prostate cancer, which quickly spread to his colon, lungs, and bones; he died of it shortly after his 60th birthday in 1961. A year after his death, Irene committed suicide by jumping from the 11th floor of the Knickerbocker Hotel, after telling Doris Day of her grief over Cooper's death. Regardless of his philandering, regardless of the arduous work of his studio’s publicity departments, there was something plaintive, almost childlike, maybe even innocent about Cooper, so he can easily be forgiven his sins. He acted out what mattered to millions of people, and that act made him a star beyond measure.

Next, I’ll focus on his former paramour Lupe Velez’s arch nemesis. A woman who happened to be wife of MGM art director Cedric Gibbons (Gary Cooper’s wife Rocky’s uncle). She was another pioneer of Mexican cinema who was arguably the first Latina to successfully crossover to Anglo audiences: Leo Dolores del Río.

Stats

birthdate: May 7, 1901

major planets:

Sun: Taurus

Moon: Sagittarius

Rising: Taurus

Mercury: Taurus

Venus: Taurus

Mars: Leo

Midheaven: Aquarius

Jupiter: Capricorn

Saturn: Capricorn

Uranus: Sagittarius

Neptune: Gemini

Pluto: Gemini

Overall personality snapshot: He was torn between an instinct to roam free and a determination to find security and make a solid, lasting contribution to the world. As he repeatedly changed horses in search of both ultimate certainties and high-spirited adventure at the same time, he could find himself deeply divided and uncertain. He sought to earth the fire from heaven and put it to work, but he found all too often that it would not let him rest. In his search for stability and security, he became a farmer and was immediately confronted with the changing seasons. He embraced the solid certainties of geology and are hit by an earthquake. He liked to feel the solid earth move. He sought certitude and permanence, yet his endless inquiries constantly confounded yesterday’s certainties. When he got his own uncertainties together (by accepting he wanted the best of both the changing and the unchanging worlds), he could have been a brilliant teacher, conversationalist, counselor, entertainer, wit, creative artist or entrepreneur – in fact he could have been anything he wanted. Once focused, he could be a human dynamo, and wonderfully humorous, witty and entertaining with it. As he discovered, his quest for solid material certainties did not make a happy bedfellow for his yearning for excitement and larger religious and spiritual understanding. In one way or another, be it through philosophy and the spiritual quest or through writing, music or art, he needed to put together and formulate a total vision of the universe which is based on unassailable facts yet satisfying to his idealism.

Constantly seeking, he was a natural agnostic, applying the criteria of science to counter woolly speculations, yet at the same time highly skeptical of the limited and statistical pronouncements of unthinking science. The danger, if he did not marry these elements within him, is that he would swing from one to the other and undermine the virtues of both. A restless changing of jobs, careers, partners, visions or aspirations left him drunk with his own spinning. When he deliberately tried to remain sober and commonsensical, it seemed to make matters worse for there was something of the gambler in him. This all-or-nothing streak can temporarily overcome your natural caution and enable you to burn your bridges (though you will usually ensure there is something tucked away for a rainy day). He felt an impulsive need to do things on a grand scale, to live with commitment, to feast on the world, and to understand what it was to be alive in all possible ways. He seemed to be called both to explore the reaches of the imagination and to build secure foundations. He brought far-reaching visions into manifestation, and these visions injected his conservative desire for stability and security with flair and colour. His vision of tomorrow and the larger world gave spice to any project he undertook. He saw endless possibilities and wanted to make them real. In this he could be the natural entrepreneur who saw economic opportunities at every turn, an inspiring counselor and teacher, and a stimulating companion whatever he did.

His well-shaped body displayed a warm attractiveness and ripeness. In his later years, he may have needed to watch the tendency to gain weight too easily. His strong broad shoulders supported a very large neck size. His most outstanding feature was his eyes and his gentle smile and voice. He was big-boned. He enjoyed dressing well, preferring soft colours. He was practical, steady and patient, but he could be inflexible in his views. One thing he did have was plenty of common sense and good powers of concentration, although he tended to think that purely abstract thought was a waste of time. His thought processes weren’t as quick as others, but his decisions were made with a lot of thought behind them. He also had the welcome ability to bring people together. He needed to be able to show his originality and independence in any job for complete satisfaction. His work should also satisfy his scientific bent and humanitarian leanings. He needed scope for his inventiveness, because he was able to bring a fresh view to any job. Ideally, his work should permit him to express the idealistic side to him character and allow him to help as many people as possible. He could be extremely efficient in the way that he tried to get maximum result out of minimum effort. He didn’t like extravagance and waste. He was a thoughtful and resourceful person, who was well-informed on many subjects. Success came gradually and as a result of hard work. Success and growth, for him, were expressed by material and financial achievements, bringing status and prestige.Worldly success was well within his reach, because he possessed all the necessary talents to gain power, influence and status. He was practical, determined and patient. When there were hitches in his plans, he simply worked around them. He knew where he was heading to, and had already figured out the best way to use his talents to reach his goals.

Although he could be fairly pessimistic about life in general, it didn’t put him off aiming for the top. He could be very single-minded about reaching his goals, and was prepared to put his career interests above his personal happiness. He was extremely aware of his own worth. He was prepared to work beyond the call of duty. His strong sense of ambition gave him a certain rigidity, arrogance and selfishness in the eyes of others. He belonged to a generation with fiery enthusiasm for new and innovative ideas and concepts. Rejecting the past and its mistakes, he sought new ideals and people to believe in. As a member of this generation, he felt restless and adventurous, and was attracted towards foreign people, places and cultures. As a member of the Gemini Neptune generation, his restless mind pushed him to explore new intellectual fields. He loved communication and the occult and was likely also fascinated by metaphysical phenomena and astrology. As a Gemini Plutonian, he was mentally restless and willing to examine and change old doctrines, ideas and ways of thinking. As a member of this generation, he showed an enormous amount of mental vitality, originality and perception. Traditional customs and taboos were examined and rejected for newer and more original ways of doing things. As opportunities with education expanded, he questioned more and learned more. As a member of this generation, having more than one occupation at a time would not have been unusual to him.

Love/sex life: His sexuality was a wonderful combination of sensuality and basic laziness. He let himself be carried along by his pleasure-seeking instincts, greeting every new experience with fresh eagerness and then slowly draining from that encounter all the joy it has to offer. This passive, easy-going approach to sex not only made for good technique, it also conceals the egocentric strength and stubbornness that was at the core of his erotic nature. People don’t realize that beneath all that luxurious hedonism he was always the person in control. He was a conservative lover for whom appearances were always important. There may have been occasions when his sensuality lured him into indiscretions but he was quick to cover his tracks and hide the evidence. The quiet practicality of his sexual nature served as a handy antidote for his Martian braggadocio. He knew that he was the best there is but he was willing to sit back and let the world find out the good news on its own. In his youth Cooper was endorsed by several female “experts” of the time (such as Clara Bow, Marlene Dietrich and Tallulah Bankhead) as Hollywood’s sexiest man. His soft spoken and manly sex appeal projected just as well on the screen. After marrying at age 32, Cooper’s sex life became somewhat more sedate though he never lost his ability to attract women.

minor asteroids and points:

North Node: Scorpio

Lilith: Scorpio

Vertex: Libra

Fortune: Capricorn

East Point: Taurus

His North Node in Scorpio dictated that he needed to be careful not to let the more emotional side of his personality overwhelm him. Instead, he should have set out to consciously develop his more practical abilities. His Lilith in Scorpio ensured that he was dangerously attracted to those women who seduced and conquered on a daily basis; who liked life intense and was judged for her sexuality and general vibe and learned early on how to deflect moral judgments. His type of women may have been tried in the court of public opinion but no way were they going to show up for the sentencing. His Vertex in Libra, 6th house dictated that he llonged for a union of souls that was based on a model of pure peace and justice. Images come to mind of a mythical life on Venus, the planet of love, where there is never a discordant beat between lovers, but rather, continual harmony even if played in the minor chords. Physical lust was certainly a necessary aspect of two beings eternally intertwined, but the platonic component far outweighed it in importance for him. He had an attitude of duty, obligation and sacrifice when it came to heartfelt interactions. The negative side was the tendency to become hypochondriacal or martyristic to get the love he so desperately wanted. There was a need for others to appreciate the sincerity of his intentions, to the daily tasks he executed in a conscientious and caring way and for others to know that his actions, no matter how routine they may seem, were based on devoted love. His Part of Fortune in Capricorn and Part of Spirit in Cancer dictated that his destiny lay in creating practical and long-lasting achievements. Success came through hard work, determination, responsibility and perseverance. Fulfillment came from observing his progress through life and seeing it take a form and structure that will outlive him. His soul’s purpose guided him towards building security in his life, both emotional and material. He felt spiritual connections and the spark of the divine within his home and family. East Point in Taurus dictated that he was more likely to identify with the need for pleasure (including the potential of liking himself) and comfort.

elemental dominance:

earth

fire

He was a practical, reliable man and could provide structure and protection. He was oriented toward practical experience and thought in terms of doing rather than thinking, feeling, or imagining. Could be materialistic, unimaginative, and resistant to change. But at his best, he provided the practical resources, analysis, and leadership to make dreams come true. He was dynamic and passionate, with strong leadership ability. He generated enormous warmth and vibrancy. He was exciting to be around, because he was genuinely enthusiastic and usually friendly. However, he could either be harnessed into helpful energy or flame up and cause destruction. Ultimately, he chose the latter. Confident and opinionated, he was fond of declarative statements such as “I will do this” or “It’s this way.” When out of control—usually because he was bored, or hadn’t been acknowledged—he was bossy, demanding, and even tyrannical. But at his best, his confidence and vision inspired others to conquer new territory in the world, in society, and in themselves.

modality dominance:

fixed

He liked the challenge of managing existing routines with ever more efficiency, rather than starting new enterprises or finding new ways of doing things. He likely had trouble delegating duties and had a very hard time seeing other points of view; he tried to implement the human need to create stability and order in the wake of change.

house dominants:

12th

9th

8th

He had great interest in the unconscious, and indulged in a lot of hidden and secret affairs. His life was defined by seclusion and escapism. He had a certain mysticism and hidden sensitivity, as well as an intense need for privacy. Traveling, whether physically across the globe, on a mental plane or expanding through study was a major theme in his life. He was not only concerned with learning facts, but also wanted to understand the connections formed between them and the philosophies and concepts they stood for. His conscience, as well as foreign travel, people and places was also of paramount importance in his life. He loved the totality of the human experience and embraced the whole cycle of human life, including birth, sex and death. His darker side, and the complexes and emotions that he preferred to keep hidden, even from himself was a theme throughout his life. His ability to undergo deep personal transformations and spiritual regeneration was also highlighted.

planet dominants:

Venus

Saturn

Sun

He was romantic, attractive and valued beauty, had an artistic instinct, and was sociable. He had an easy ability to create close personal relationships, for better or worse, and to form business partnerships. He believed in the fact that lessons in life were sometimes harsh, that structure and foundation was a great issue in his life, and he had to be taught through through experience what he needed in order to grow. He paid attention to limitations he had and had to learn the rules of the game in this physical reality. He tended to have a practical, prudent outlook. He also likely held rigid beliefs. He had vitality and creativity, as well as a strong ego and was authoritarian and powerful. He likely had strong leadership qualities, he definitely knew who he was, and he had tremendous will. He met challenges and believed in expanding his life.

sign dominants:

Taurus

Sagittarius

Capricorn

His stubbornness and determination kept his around for the long haul on any project or endeavour. He was incredibly patient, singular in his pursuit of goals, and determined to attain what he wanted. Although he lacked versatility, he compensated for it by enduring whatever he had to in order to get what he wanted. He enjoyed being surrounded by nice things. He liked fine art and music, and may have had considerable musical ability. He also had a talent for working with his hands—gardening, woodworking, and sculpting. He sought the truth, expressed it as he saw it—and didn’t care if anyone else agreed with him. He saw the large picture of any issue and couldn’t be bothered with the mundane details. He was always outspoken and likely couldn’t understand why other people weren’t as candid. After all, what was there to hide? He loved his freedom and chafed at any restrictions. He was a serious-minded person who often seemed aloof and tightly in control of his emotions and her personal domain. Even as a youngster, there was a mature air about him, as if he was born with a profound core that few outsiders ever see. He was easily impressed by outward signs of success, but was interested less in money than in the power that money represents. He was a true worker—industrious, efficient, and disciplined. His innate common sense gave her the ability to plan ahead and to work out practical ways of approaching goals. More often than not, he succeeded at whatever he set out to do. He possessed a quiet dignity that was unmistakable.

Read more about him under the cut.

Actor Gary Cooper was born on May 7, 1901, in Helena, Montana. Spanning from the silent film era to the early 1960s, Academy Award-winning actor Gary Cooper built much of his career by playing strong, manly, distinctly American roles. The son of English parents who had settled in Montana, he was educated in England for a time. He also studied at Grinnell College in Iowa before heading to Los Angeles to work as an illustrator. When he had a hard time finding a job, Cooper worked as a film extra and landed some small parts. After his appearance in

The Winning of Barbara Worth

(1926), a western, Cooper's career began to take off. He starred opposite silent movie star Clara Bow in Children of Divorce (1927). Cooper also earned praise as the ranch foreman in

The Virginian

(1929), one of his early films with sound. Throughout the 1930s, he turned in a number of strong performances in such films as A Farewell to Arms (1934) with Helen Hayes and Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936) directed by Frank Capra. Cooper received an Academy Award nomination for his work on the film. Cooper continued to excel on the big screen, tackling several real-life dramas. In Sergeant York (1941), the played a World War I hero and sharpshooter, which was based on the life story of Alvin York. Cooper earned a Best Actor Academy Award for his portrayal of York.

The next year, Cooper played one of baseball's greats, Lou Gehrig, in The Pride of the Yankees (1942). Again, he scored another Best Actor Academy Award nomination. Appearing in a film adaptation of Ernest Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls, Cooper starred opposite Ingrid Bergman in a drama set during the Spanish Civil War. This role garnered him a third Academy Award nomination. In 1952, Cooper took on what is known considered his signature role as Will Kane in High Noon. He appeared as a lawman who must face a deadly foe without any help from his own townspeople. The film won four Academy Awards, including a Best Actor win for Cooper. In addition to his excellent on-screen performances, Cooper became known for his alleged romances with several of his leading ladies, including Clara Bow and Patricia Neal. The affair with Neal, his co-star in 1949's The Fountainhead, reportedly occurred during his marriage to socialite Veronica Balfe with whom he had a daughter. Their marriage seemed to survive the scandal. By the late 1950s, Cooper's health was in decline. He made a few more films, such as Man of the West (1958), before dying of cancer on May 13, 1961. (x)

#taurus #astrology #star analyses #gary cooper #scandalous stars #long ass post #mine

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years ago

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A Familiar Soul - Chapter Eight

Summary: Hilda decides to be completely honest with her mother, surprised when she seems to be a lot more in on magic than Hilda had expected her to be.

With her daughter’s association with witches, Johanna is forced to face some secrets of her own, bringing her back to feelings and people she’d rather have left behind

Dealing with insecurities and inner demons of her own, Kaisa finds herself face to face with the very issues that brought her to be so displeased with her own abilities

Or: the one where Johanna is Kaisa’s familiar

Notes: Sorry for being late!! I meant to post this yesterday but Things Happened and I ended up not being able to re-read and edit this chapter on time. Anyway, here’s a longer chapter for having waited longer for it; I’m not going to lie, I’m very excited to share this chapter with you, since I’d say this and the next one are half-way marks of this fic that really split the story in two themes. Hope you enjoy it!

Read it on ao3: (chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7) (chpt8)

“Hilda, is this really a good idea?”

“Of course it is.” Her words reverberated on the walls of the dark tunnel she was leading them through. There was water on the ground, and Alfur looked down at it with disgust, grateful to be perched on Hilda’s ear and away from it. Tontu was not so lucky. Not only did he have to walk, but also he seemed to be in a constant battle to find a spot where Hilda’s steps wouldn’t accidentally spray the dirty water on him. “I've Talked to the Rat King a bunch of times! We’re friends.”

“Are you, really?” Though the nisse’s voice was filled with sarcasm, Hilda didn’t notice it, focusing on lighting up the way with her flashlight. Alfur shot him a look, telling him to be nice. Hilda was just a child, after all.

“What we mean.” The elf said, even though he’d been trying to make his point since they’d left the apartment to no avail. “Is that perhaps, instead of going to a mythical monster who lives in the sewers for information on your mother’s life, maybe, you should just ask her?”

Hilda waved her beam of light to the left, taking it to the right when she didn’t recognize the passage she saw. The one at the right looked more familiar… didn’t it?

“Mum wouldn’t tell me what I want to know, believe me. There’s something off about all this.”

Her creature companions seemed to resign themselves to the fact that Hilda was not going to let go of this idea, telling themselves that it could be worse. After all, at least they had been invited and would be there should she need them. Knowing Hilda, she might as well have set off on this task by herself, especially in the state she was. Upon arriving home the evening before, after having followed Kaisa all the way to the cemetery, Hilda had barely spoken to her mother. Even Johanna, who had wanted to tell her to not invite people into the house without her knowing, had found it best not to comment on it while Hilda was in that mood.

“I know I’ve never met this Rat King guy.” Said Tontu as he brushed off a spider that had fallen on his sweater. “But are we really supposed to be here? We’ve been walking for some time.”

Now that this had been called to Hilda’s attention, she had to admit that they were taking an unusual amount of time to arrive at their destination. The tunnels were getting smaller and smaller, in a way that an adult would have trouble walking along them, and they continued getting tighter, which made the trio feel as if they were in a funnel. At one point, the passageway stopped getting narrower, and instead opened up to a chamber.

“Is this where we needed to be?” Alfur asked as he noticed mysterious symbols engraved on the stone bricks that composed the chamber. There was no longer water on the ground, but the air was colder somewhy.

“No.” Muttered Hilda, who hadn’t wanted to admit she didn’t know where they were. She was about to retrace her steps back to where they had begun in order to dejectedly try to find what entrance she had gotten wrong, when an enormous figure dropped down from the ceiling in front of them with a bang. In the low lighting, they could only see it’s silhouette towering over them and feel its rotten smell, but when Hilda pointed her flashlight at it, making it roar, they were able to see that the monster was made almost entirely out of garbage - wet strands of hair, cardboard and paper that had been thrown away, used cigars and a great variety of things they feared to even name. It roared with the light, a low pitched and broken sound, showing its teeth of sharded glass.

The three of them screamed and turned for the exit, but just when they did so the creature extended one of its tentacles and blocked the passage with it, trapping them in the chamber. With two others, he picked Hilda and Tontu up.

“What do we do?” He shouted. Unseen to both of them and also to the beast, Alfur had already hopped down from Hilda’s hair to the ground.

“I don’t know!” Instinctively, Hilda was resisting the monster’s grip, trying to make it drop her. Nothing was coming from her efforts.

“I’m going to call Mum! Stay right here!”

“Tontu!” before she could say his name, the nisse had disappeared through the nowhere space. “Alfur, are you there?”

“I am going away, but I’ll be back with help!” He shouted back at her. Though the monster had managed to cover up most of the passage, there was still a spot big enough for Alfur to go through.

“But Tontu is already doing that! You’ll leave me alone with the monster!”

“I don’t think Johanna will be able to do much against this thing, Hilda.” He said, tensing up for the girl when it brought her closer to sniff her. “But I’ll be quick, I promise!”

_#_#_#_

Johanna yelped when Tontu appeared beside her drawing desk in a flash of pink light. This in itself didn’t surprise her, since she had grown used to the nisse popping up randomly around the house ever since he had come to live with them, but the way he grabbed her sweater’s sleeve scared her with its urgency.

“What-”

“Hilda is in danger!” He cut her off, and Johanna was sure that if she could see his eyes, they would be staring right into hers. Those words immediately clenched every muscle in Johanna’s body, her every instinct preparing her to fight.

“Take me to her!”

The first thing Johanna noticed when Tontu took her through nowhere space and to the place her daughter found herself in, was that it definitely was not the park, where Hilda had said she would be. The second was the smell, putrid and rancid and making her want to cough before she was even able to get situated. Lastly, she gasped when she saw her daughter on the ground with a horrid creature’s tentacle wrapped loosely around her waist.

Had she been thinking straight, she would have realized the lack of distress on Hilda’s face, or how she was whispering to the creature who was slowly coming to release her. Being worried out of her mind, however, she was neither able to see this nor hear it, though the latter could be blamed on how her heartbeat was thudding on her ears. Johanna screamed Hilda’s name, which made the girl look at her in shock as she watched her mother lunge in her direction, aiming for the tentacle so it would let go of Hilda.

Although she did hit it, her actions had the opposite effect: the creature screeched in indignation, tightening its grip on Hilda again and lifting her up. Johanna called for her from the top of her lungs, Hilda’s now scared features being the last thing she saw before the sewer monster curled another tentacle around Johanna herself, picked her up and threw her against a stone wall, making the entire world go dark.

_#_#_#_

“Very good.” Kaisa cooed when she finished reading the essay on the influence of Venus on a star chart. Tildy was never fond of making her students write long lengthened texts, since she herself found it to be a bother, but Frida always thought that she fixated a subject better and learned about it more in depth if she made an essay. With that in mind, she had arranged with the librarian for her to look over her writing when she was studying something within Kaisa’s area of expertise. What she hadn’t expected was for Kaisa to know so much about so many things.

“Thank you! I was wondering if you’d be willing to discuss some details within this topic with me?”

Forcing a smile, Kaisa began looking through the books of one of the piles near her. Technically, she didn’t need to be in the library so early on a Saturday morning, but she always arrived earlier to organize the books. Turned out to be better, since that way Frida was able to find her for the bits of help she most certainly didn’t need, but which Kaisa loved to give.

Well, which she usually loved to give. Not long after she began reading Frida’s essay, she started to feel a tingling sensation on the back of her neck, followed by a tightness in her heart like a string had been tied to it and was being pulled. It was extremely distracting, taking her away from the writing all the time, which made her have to re-read the same lines constantly. Kaisa hoped that maybe she was coming down with an illness, or was just feeling off because of not having slept particularly well the night before, because deep down she recognized those signs. It had been so long since she’d felt them, however, that she brushed the possibility away.

“Or course! Why don’t we meet today after the library closes? I also have this book I think you’ll love.”

There was no time for her to hand Frida the book, though, since she was barely done speaking when a pigeon hit the window near them, making them both turn to look at it. Instead of trying to fly right back, it hit its beak against the glass repeatedly, which caught their attention and caused them to take a closer look at it. It was then that they noticed the pigeon wasn’t alone.

“Alfur!” Frida gasped, opening the window on instinct. Kaisa had already had the opportunity to meet the elf, but never had he been in such an agitated state. He didn’t even bother dismounting the pigeon to talk to them.

“Quick! I need you to come with me!” The distress in his voice was evident, and a single thought popped in the mind of both witches as they ran to the library’s door: Hilda.

“To the sewers!” He said, flying the pigeon besides them when they ran outside. “Some sort of monster has captured Hilda!”

“Why on earth was Hilda in the sewers?!” Panting, Kaisa gasped. If there was one thing she wasn’t used to doing, it was running, and her lungs were already beginning to burn with the effort.

“Usually it’s better no to question it.” Frida grabbed her hand to urge her to move faster. Kaisa was concerned by how Frida seemed to know perfectly the way to the sewers, but she supposed that, too, was better to be left unquestioned.

They dashed through the city as though their lives depended on it, knowing very well that Hilda’s might. Kaisa could only hope none of the people they raced by were regular patrons of the library; she didn't think running after a bird with a child would look too professional.

When eventually they reached the opening of the sewer system, they didn’t as much as give it a second thought before proceeding right into the tunnel. Usually, Kaisa would have been more than a little reluctant to enter a smelly hole like that, but the string in her heart was telling her to go, and to go fast. And go fast she did.

After all that was over, both Frida and Kaisa would remember never to doubt Alfur’s memory. Despite only having taken that path down the labyrinth of tunnels once, he never hesitated more than a second to choose when they were faced with more than one possible direction. Not a long time had passed when they began hearing a sound different than that of their feet on the wet stone and their heavy breathing.

“Please.” They could hear Hilda plead in the distance. “We were getting along before, weren’t we? That doesn’t change anything.”

Frida gasped when she heard her friend’’s voice and quickened her pace, with Kaisa struggling to keep up with her. When the tunnel’s walls began to squeeze them in, Kaisa had to bend her head despite being on the shorter side, and with that complication for her Frida went ahead. Worried for Hilda, Alfur barely noticed that the monster’s tentacle was no longer covering the entrance, and they all jumped through the entrance and into the chamber, except for Kaisa who had to stop to wonder how she’d manage to fit through the stone funnel.

“Frida!” From the monster’s grip, Hilda choked. “Go away! What are you doing here?”

The monster turned its eyes, made of five broken light bulbs, to the newcome witch. Though every cell in her body wanted to cower, Frida forced herself to stand her ground, grateful to have brought her wand. The new angle allowed both of the to see something that had been hidden behind the monster: another tentacle was tightly wrapped around the ankles of a prostate figure on the floor, with Tontu by her head trying to check her breathing.

Kaisa’s heart skipped a beat. “Anna!”

Only Frida heard her startled gasp, and she turned to Kaisa with urgency.

“What do we do?” The question was broken by Frida’s scream when the monster lunged forward, trying to get the girl in a amoeba-like movement. As it extended its body to close her in, she jumped back just in time to escape.

“I- I don’t know” Still stuck at the entrance, and knowing that this wasn’t likely to change due to her muscles having frozen, Kaisa could feel herself begin to hyperventilate. She hated it when this happened. Panic only made her brain stop working when it was the one part of her that still worked. When she saw Johanna blinking her eyes open drowsily, she forced herself to think.

“It’s a soppelbunke!” She said when she remembered, growing ever more afflicted as Frida escaped new attempts to capture her. “It doesn’t attack unless its space is invaded.”

“Well, I invaded its space!” Shouted Hilda. “What now?”

“There’s a spell-”

“Cast it!” After being cornered, Frida shouted as she felt the monster tie her legs together with its tentacle. It lifted her up, though she was upside down, and seemed to analyze her carefully. Even through her haze of dread, Frida recognized that the soppelbunke seemed more curious about her than anything else. She had, however, no intention to find out how long it would take for its interest to shift into something more like hunger.

“What are you waiting for?” Kaisa’s gaze switched back to Johanna, who was now half way to sitting, perching herself up on her elbows; it was clear that she was trying to get up, and that the nisse next to her was doing all he could to stop her. The expectation in her eyes was too much for her to bear.

“No, I- I can’t…” Her voice got smaller with each word she spoke. This wasn’t something she wanted to admit when there were people relying on her. More importantly, this wasn’t something she would want to reveal to Johanna no matter the circumstances.

Although none of them heard her, Hilda and Frida exchanged a look as they both deduced what the problem was. It seemed like the librarian hadn’t quite put their void adventure behind yet.

“Tell me the chant!” The monster had turned to growl at Johanna and Tontu, who had now also been joined by Alfur, and Frida took the chance to try to get Kaisa to speak. There was a gigantic amount of fear in her eyes, but oddly enough, it didn’t seem to be directed at the soppelbunke.

“Kan skitten bly, igjen a ratne!” She finally said as she tried to force her fingers to move and grab her wand. “And make a triangular motion!”

With only her legs bound, Frida was able to grab her wand and pronounce the chant as firmly as she could, drawing a triangle in the air. The creature didn’t even have the time to understand what was happening before a blue blast came from the tip of Frida’s wand and hit it. All the individual components of its body came apart, forming a disgusting pile on the ground, and as soon as they got up, both Frida and Johanna ran to Hilda.

Johanna tried to take her daughter’s hand into her own. “Hilda, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” The girl huffed as she took her hand back. “Thanks to Frida and Kaisa.”

Johanna retreated at the cold words, and as she was suddenly reminded that Kaisa was there, she turned to look at the chamber’s entrance.

She saw nothing but the tip of a black cape as its wearer walked away.

_#_#_#_

The first thing Hilda did when she arrived home was take a bath. Not only because the stench of the sewers was stubbornly clinging to her, but also because her mother wanted to talk, and she couldn’t think of anything else she wanted to do less in that moment.

She’d been almost there. The monster had been so <em>close</em> to letting her go before her mother popped into the chamber and angered him. Kaisa herself had said that the soppelbunke only attacked when rightfully provoked, everything indicated that it could have been dealt with only through dialogue. Hilda would eternally be thankful to Frida, of course, but before her mother had shown up things had been fine! And now she’d face a scolding for something that wouldn’t even happen if Johanna hadn’t showed up.

The table had been set with the last pieces of a cake Johanna had baked earlier that week, and Hilda sat down in front of her mother. The woman took a deep breath, her hands interlaced in front of her chest.

“Hilda.” Johanna began with a fake facade of calm. She couldn’t say she was angry, per se, but every single one of her nerves felt like they were on fire. ‘On edge’ was the best definition she could give. “Now that you’re safe, I need to know what you were doing in the sewers.”

Hilda sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “What I was doing there doesn’t change what happened, does it?”

“It doesn’t.” The woman had to restrain herself from fidgeting. She didn’t want to ground Hilda; just like she was doing an effort to be more honest, Johanna knew she had to do her part to be more understanding, but goodness, it was hard. She tried to put her child self in Hilda’s place and imagine what she would have liked her parents to do, but her adventures had rarely taken such big and dangerous dimensions, and on the rare occasion that they did, her parents never learned of it. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that there was one sole reason for her to always have been protected: she never went anywhere without her witch.

But she couldn’t very well tell Hilda that.

“I’m just trying to understand if what you went there to do is something that I could have helped. You need to understand that you don’t have to go on these mad chases alone, and you don’t have to go at all if it’s something I can control!”

“Funnily enough, it was something that you would have been able to help.” Hilda said, even more harshly than she had intended. “But if I had thought you would have helped, I wouldn’t have gone all the way to the sewers.”

“Hey, don’t blame me for this!” Johanna protested. “You can’t know whether or not I’ll help if you won’t ask me!”

“Let’s test the theory, then. What did you do?”

Johanna blinked. “Pardon?”

“You must know what I’m talking about. Kaisa said you made her mad.”

“Why were you even talking to Kaisa?!” Logically, Johanna knew Hilda had gone to her after she’d kicked her former girlfriend out of the house, but she’d hoped Hilda wouldn’t actually hear anything she said. “You know you can’t trust her! She didn’t even lift a finger to help us today.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” The intensity of Hilda’s defense startled her mother, and it surprised the girl herself. She’d once been upset at the librarian for freezing when it mattered the most, but she thought she’d now grown past judging people for their insecurities, and Johanna should too. “She did her best! Now please tell me what you did that made her so angry at you.”

Johanna put a hand on her chest to defend herself. “All I did was protect her.”

With a sigh, Hilda got up from her chair. She would never give up on trying to have a good relationship with her mother, but for that particular subject it seemed like the more she tried the worse it got. As she headed back to her room she shook her head in dejection.

“Yeah, I’m beginning to see why she’d be angry about that.”

_#_#_#_

Tildy hadn’t asked why Kaisa was at her doorstep. She hadn’t needed to. The moment she saw her student she could tell Kaisa was on the brink of tears; she’d barely begun pouring them both tea when the librarian spilled the whole story.

“I couldn’t do anything!” She finished with tears already streaming down her face, one drop even falling inside her teacup. Tildy could tell by reading the situation that this called for the sofa. Kaisa always felt better venting when they were both sitting on the couch instead of on a table, and so she gently guided the other woman to stand up from the chair and sit down again.

“Yet everything turned out fine.” Tildy said with her most comforting voice. “So what is this really about, little one?”

There was a beat of silence, the question hanging heavily in the air.

“I’ve never done right by anyone in my entire life!” Kaisa’s crying turned into a full on bawling. “I couldn’t be the change my mother needed me to be, I couldn’t be the witch you taught me I could be, I couldn’t be the friend Johanna deserved, and now I can’t even be the protection Hilda will require!”

Her apprentice had never been a blunt person, nor much of an emotional one, so the sorceress was taken aback by the sudden flow of honesty. She could tell Kaisa had been holding that back for long, and now it was like a dam had broken and the waves were coming forward and rocking her to her core.

“Kaisa, you are the keeper-”

“So you keep saying!” She blurted out.” But I’m not the keeper of the books! The keepers were great and wise, and all I do is let everyone down! I’m just a librarian, and i’m not even sure I’m good at that.”

She covered her face with her hands, sobbing into them. Part of her wanted to be embarrassed with that behavior, but the other part knew that this was Tildy. If there was one person she could break down in front of, it was her. Surely enough, her old mentor put an arm across her back and pulled her closer, enveloping Kaisa in her warmth and in her scent of cinnamon like she used to do when she was a little girl.

And, like she used to do when she was a little girl, Kaisa wept.

#fic: afs #my fic #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship fanfic #kaisa hilda fanfic #johanna hilda fanfic #hilda fanfiction

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handsofdarkness · 4 years ago

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Within Temptation’s Sharon den Adel: “There are more better days than bad days”

You put the questions to Within Temptation singer Sharon den Adel

It’s been a big couple of years for Dutch megaweights Within Temptation, but with their planned tour with Evanescence getting nudged back, we thought we’d help Sharon den Adel pass the time by fielding some of your questions. Who knew Shazza had such a problem with ducks?!

How are you doing now after your hard patch where you made the solo album? Tammy Black (Facebook)

“That’s sweet. Really, it’s a process. It’s been two years now [Sharon’s father passed away in 2018] since that period was going on. Of course, something doesn’t really end but the sharp edges get off. The music really helped me, and also being on tour again for Resist really helped – it was a very positive tour for me. So, it’s getting better, but it’s like, wounds heal, but they heal slowly. But there are more better days than bad days, that’s the good thing.”

Do you see a time in the future where you’ll release a compilation album of rare/unreleased material from your back catalogue? @jaimcferran (Twitter)

“Not really. Maybe b-sides; there were a few jams which were pretty good, actually, looking back on it. Maybe if we made a new arrangement on [the songs] or something we could try. But a lot of things that didn’t make it to b-sides were really bad, I think. Ha ha ha!”

What’s the best way to address the issue of the number of bands with female musicians on festival bills each year? Ben Willmott (Facebook)

“That’s a difficult question. My opinion about it is: of course I would like to see more women on the bills of festivals and on radio. I think the more visible women are, the more seeds will be planted. I think it’s even harder in a country like America to get on the radio or get any exposure when you’re a female because it’s more masculine; they just wanna hear men’s voices. In Europe I think it’s slightly different; we get more support just based on the music. But that’s just my feeling. Maybe I’m wrong.”

Which Within Temptation album brings back the greatest memories? @krystianc1997 (Twitter)

“It’s not like one period was the best period of our lives, but I must say we had a lot of fun on the Unforgiving tour. It was like a Monty Python movie on the road! It was one of the funniest times that we had on tour. We still have a lot of fun because most of those people are still there. A lot of the crew members are very dedicated and have been with us for over 10 years – and all these people are having a really, really hard time [during the coronavirus situation), because they’re all self-employed.”

How many times, and with how much ferocity, did you swear when Ice Queen repeatedly broke the PA at Bloodstock 2015? And did anyone get fired? Andy Taylor (Facebook)

“Oh my god! Ha ha ha! Heart attack after heart attack after heart attack. We have a certain orchestration that supports the music – [for Bloodstock we did it] totally differently, and people didn’t even notice. It was like, ‘Why did we even make the effort?’ Ha ha ha! I will never forget that show. ‘Oh my god, how can this go so wrong?!’ It was so nerve-wracking.”

What’s your favourite movie(s)? Scott Sitompul (Facebook)

“From Dusk Till Dawn is one of my all-time favourites. I’m not really a horror addict – although some people in my house are – but that movie surprised me so much. I like that you think you’re watching a road movie, then suddenly all hell breaks loose.”

Would you rather have one giant duck or an army of tiny dinosaurs? Rachel Williams (Facebook)

“I don’t like ducks much so give me the dinosaurs.”

Will you do a collaboration with Floor Jansen again? @MartVila (Twitter)

“I don’t know! I think working with somebody has to do with if you have the right song for someone. It’s about those kind of choices, not about the person themselves.”

If you were a superhero what would your name be and what would be your one weakness? Nick Jeffree (Facebook)

“Ha ha ha! These are very difficult questions! My superhero name would be Catlady and my one weakness, apart from ducks, would be singing along with really bad songs. Whenever I see a karaoke bar, I have to go in and do karaoke. So if I was trying to rescue someone and there’s a karaoke bar… I’ll be in the karaoke bar! What’s my song of choice? Something from Grease, of course!”

What tips would you give to aspiring women in metal, to help inspire them to reach the levels you have reached? Cynthia Luna Frost (Facebook)

“I think in general, for anyone wanting to go into music, it’s easy to be like someone else, but it’s so important to find something that you love doing, because that will make you maintain it and try to make it better. Ambition is the most important thing when you start making music, and your vision will determine how special you are. Uniqueness and vision is a good recipe in music and will make sure that you’re different from all the others.”

When making music for Within Temptation, do you write the lyrics before composing a song? Or does the tune come first and then the lyrics? Zaina Z. Arekat (Facebook)

“I start [writing lyrics] when trying to make music and vocal lines. Most of those words stick because they have a certain emotion, but it’s always afterwards that it’s difficult, because you know you have a direction that you want to go and you have [some placeholder] lyrics that you have to change into something real with the right emotion. But the words have to fit! It’s a lot of work, but it does make you stay as close as possible to the demo. For me, it doesn’t really work to write lyrics out before I start singing. What I do is that when I feel like [the music is] going in a certain direction, I’ll start writing lyrics so that I can fit them in. But most of the time, they come out of the blue and I have to shape it!”

What do you think about the current state of the fashion industry and do you still create and design at home? Muses Of Metal (Facebook)

“Well, every single time we go on tour I still work with the designer for the band. Fashion nowadays… there are a lot of things going on! You have to find something that suits you and fits you. For me, music is the most important thing, always, but fashion is a nice thing to be busy with. I like to do the clothing of everybody and those kinds of things.”

Was it strange suddenly being widely acknowledged for an album that already was three years old when Sony re-released Mother Earth? Petromax Skavholm (Facebook)

“We felt when we wrote the album, ‘This is a really good album, why is nobody playing it? Why is it so hard?’ We sold out venues, but nobody was writing about it or playing us on the radio. The people who should have us on their radar for new things weren’t picking us up. But people loved it so much, they were going nuts when we were playing! So we didn’t know what was happening, but when it did get re-released afterwards, it was confirmation that we were right about our own music, and that we did have something special. So it was really nice to see that people really did like the album. It was a compliment to our music, and that was really nice.”

#Sharon den Adel #within temptation #2020 interviews

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badchoicesposts · 5 years ago

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Loyalty Or Royalty

Chapter 2

Summary: Mia Bhatt spent years trying to escape her past, trying to escape the feeling of betrayal that was left in her heart after the fire, and she finally had. She was marrying the King of Cordonia and was finally going to get her happily ever after. But, after a momentary lapse in judgement caused her to send a wedding invitation to someone she was sure had forgotten about her, she realizes that sometimes the past has a way of crawling back to you.

Author’s Note: In this fic Anton and The Sons of Earth were caught before the wedding. Also this story will contain flashbacks that will be in italics.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Mia Bhatt), Platonic!Colt x MC, MC x The Mercy Park Crew

TRIGGER WARNING: VERY BRIEF MENTION OF PARENTAL ABUSE

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @dcbbw, @texaskitten30, @kingliam2019, @hopefulmoonobject, @lovehugsandcandy, @los-cafeteros, @desiree-0816, @lovemychoices

Prologue, Chapter 1

Mia watched with a smile as Colt blew out the seven candles on his birthday cake. He was only two years older than her, and she didn’t understand what the big deal was but she knew that as soon as his parents left the two of them alone, he would be teasing her for still being five while he was seven. It was a small celebration, with just the two of them and both of Colt’s parents, and although they were doing their best to fake smiles, both children could feel the tension in the room as Teppei and Annya shared subtle glares.

Annya rose to help Colt cut the cake, guiding his hand and portioning out two pieces for both children, leaving them alone to enjoy the chocolate dessert. Annya exited the room to place the knife in the kitchen sink, and Teppei followed soon after her, the sound of a whispered argument making their way out to where both kids were sitting.

“They’re always fighting,” Colt sulked, picking at his cake unhappily.

“At least your dad doesn’t hit you and your mom when they argue,” Mia said, having been no stranger to unhappy parents.

Even at such a young age, she knew it wasn’t right, and she couldn’t help but wonder why her mom didn’t do anything to stop it. She supposed it was because after her dad did it, he would always apologize and buy the two of them flowers.

“I know what would make me feel better,” Colt said, a mischievous smile breaking out over his face.

Mia was just about to ask him what he was talking about when she gasped at the feeling of cold chocolate frosting on her face.

“That’s not nice!” she exclaimed.

However, Colt could tell that she wasn’t actually angry because of the wide smile she had on her face as she reached over to grab her own piece of cake. She pushed it into his face and giggled softly at the angry scowl that she could see through the clumps of brown cake and frosting on his face. The two continued to throw cake at each other, laughing uncontrollably until Annya’s scandalized gasp caused them to stop. Even as she ushered the two of them into the bathroom to get cleaned up and tucked them into Colt’s bed for the night, they continued to laugh quietly to themselves.

~~~

“We’re going to the reception in an actual horse drawn carriage?” Mia asked, a small laugh escaping her lips as Liam helped her into the vehicle.

“It seemed appropriate,” Liam responded, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into his side.

“Have I told you that I loved you recently? Because I really do,” she said, nuzzling her face into the side of his neck.

Liam let out an uncomfortable sigh, causing Mia to pull away.

“What is it?”

“I... I hope you still feel that way in a few minutes,” he mumbled, squeezing her hand gently.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked with an amused smile.

“I may have asked the staff to change around the seating arrangements so that Colt and Ellie could sit with the rest of us at dinner,” he said nervously.

Mia immediately moved away from him.

“What? Why? Why would you do that?” she asked.

“Because I can see how much you care about him. He should be there to properly celebrate with us, and I figured it would give you two a chance to talk,” Liam tried reasoning with her.

“Liam, this is our wedding reception not a therapy session,” she argued.

“I know,” he said, reaching over to grab her hand. “I just thought that it would be a good chance to just enjoy each other’s company instead of fighting.”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you shouldn’t have,” she said, just as the carriage pulled up to the reception venue.

Liam helped her out of the carriage, and the two entered, the sound of cheers meeting their ears. They made their obligatory rounds around the room before settling in for dinner. Mia shot a glare in Liam’s direction as she sat at the largest table in the room, which was actually two tables pushed together to form one large enough for them and all of their friends and family. She wasn’t shocked at all to see that she was seated directly across from Colt and reminded herself not to roll her eyes in front of the entire court.

“So, Mia, are you going to introduce us to your friends?” Leo asked, causing her to share an uncomfortable look with the rest of the crew.

“Right, um, everyone this is Colt and Ellie. Colt, this is Leo, Maxwell, Hana, Olivia, and Liam’s stepmother Regina. And you already know Drake and obviously Liam,” she said making the awkward introduction as the first course was served.

Everyone else already knew each other because the rest of the crew had arrived a few days before the wedding.

“Well, it’s an honor to meet you, Colt. I can tell you’re obviously someone who means a great deal to Mia,” Liam said kindly.

“Someone who used to,” Mia muttered under her breath, although everyone heard her.

She grabbed her wine glass and downed it all in one go, and one of the servers quickly stepped forward to get her a refill. She saw Colt raise his brows in surprise at the action, but he didn’t comment. Liam cleared his throat uncomfortably and rested his hand on Mia’s thigh in a reassuring manner.

“So, Colt, what do you do for a living?” Liam tried again, to which Mia let out a loud laugh.

“Yes, Colt, what do you do for a living?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

She watched as Colt’s jaw clenched ever so slightly and his grip on his fork tightened.

“I, uh, I’m in between jobs right now. But, my last job was… as a mechanic,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Do you live in New York as well?” Liam asked.

“You know, Li, that’s a great question!” Mia exclaimed, turning to Colt and giving him her full attention. She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly as she waited for him to answer the question.

“I’ve spent the last few years moving around a lot,” Colt answered, and Mia saw Ellie give him a nervous look.

“Moving around where exactly?” Mia asked.

“A lot of places,” he said, meeting her gaze head on.

“Like where?” she asked more insistently.

“It’s not important,” Colt responded.

“Mia, maybe we shouldn’t-” Logan tried to interrupt.

However, at this point, Mia was too far gone to stop. She held her hand up to silence him and kept her eyes locked onto Colt’s.

“Where have you been, Colt? Where have you been for the past seven years?” she exclaimed, everyone going silent around her.

“Look, Mellie,” Colt began, letting out a tired sigh.

“No! Don’t take that tone. Don’t act like me wanting to know is some kind of inconvenience to you or like I’m being unreasonable!” she whisper yelled across the table to keep from drawing attention from the tables around them. “And you don’t get to call me ‘Mellie’ anymore!”

He was always the only person that called her that and hearing him say it now only added to her irritation. It had originally started because he had trouble saying “Amelia” when he was a kid, and it just stuck, even when everyone else around her started calling her “Mia”.

“You think I left because I wanted to?” he asked, dropping his fork and leaning in towards her from across the table. “I left because I had to!”

“Yeah, Colt I know. I understand that just fine. I understood that when the cops came looking for me to get information on you and your father. I understood that when everyone else left too. But, you see the difference with them is that they had enough common sense to get in contact with me. They had enough common sense to let me know that they were okay. They had enough common sense to let me know that they were still alive!” she said angrily, finally letting all of her hurt and anger out.

“I’m sorry, Mellie,” Colt whispered, his voice just as pained as hers. “I couldn’t risk it.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough!”

“Mia, please. He didn’t stay away because he wanted to. You should have seen how much it hurt him not to-” Ellie began to say.

She stopped though when she noticed the murderous look on Mia’s face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You kept in contact with her?” she gasped out, the guilty look on Colt’s face answering her question. “Go to hell, Colt!”

“Are you really jealous right now?” he asked, his voice almost amused.

This only served to make her even more angry. She was angry that he could even find it in himself to think of any of this as funny when she felt like she was falling apart.

“Yes! I am! You were always the only constant that I had in my life. You were the only person I ever fully trusted, the only person I ever felt safe with. You were the only person I had left after that fire, and you up and left in the middle of the night with no warning. You didn’t even say goodbye. Do you know how much that broke me? Do you know how much sleep I lost wondering if you were okay or if you were in jail or if you were lying dead in some back alley? Do you know how long I waited to hear back from you? How long your mother did? And trust me I know how ridiculously co dependent this all sounds, but it’s still the truth. But, instead of getting in contact with the only two people who would have done anything to hear from you, you reached out to some girl that you knew for four months. Of course I’m jealous! I thought I meant more to you than that!”

She pushed herself out of her chair and stormed out of the ballroom. She could hear footsteps running behind her, but she kept going until someone’s strong grasp on her shoulder stopped her from moving any further.

“Mia, I’m sorry, okay? I get it. I shouldn’t have handled things the way that I did, but I’m here now,” Colt said.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said, her voice cracking as tears streamed freely down her face.

Mia broke down completely and collapsed into his arms, crying uncontrollably into his chest and gripping him like her life depended on it.

“I’m sorry, Mellie. I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into her hair as he gripped onto her just as tightly.

Mia wasn’t sure how long the two of them stayed that way before she pulled away and wiped her face.

“I’m still so pissed at you,” she confessed, looking everywhere but at his face. “But, I won’t have you thrown in the dungeons. Yet.”

Colt laughed nervously.

“Thanks. Your, uh, husband seems nice,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“He’s great,” she said with a small smile. “He’s wonderful, and I’m so lucky to be with him.”

“Did you, uh, tell him anything about me? About the crew?” he asked.

“No. The only person that knows anything about that stuff is Drake,” she admitted, feeling a bit guilty.

“Well, you’re going to have to tell him now. You kind of made a scene in there,” Colt teased, causing her to roll her eyes.

There was something so normal about Colt teasing her, something that felt so familiar and happy. But, there was also a part of her that still wasn’t okay with it yet.

“Don’t do that,” she said tiredly in reference to his joke. “I can’t do that with you yet. I can’t joke around like that when I’m still not completely okay with all of this.”

Colt stopped smirking and nodded his head awkwardly, looking to her for an indication of what they should do now.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ll see you back in there. We still have to get through the wedding toasts and the first dance before this is all over,” she said. “By the way, you’re probably going to have to make a toast. Try not to say anything that’ll make me mad at you again.”

With that Mia turned and went to the restroom, pressing her back against the closed door and taking a minute to catch her breath. After a few moments, she pushed herself off of the wall and looked at her reflection in the mirror, cringing when she noticed how puffy her eyes looked. She pulled her phone out of her bra and shot a quick text to Ximena asking her to meet her so that she could help fix her makeup, and then grabbed one of the spare hand towels from the bathroom cabinet. She ran it under some cold water, removed her glasses, which she refused to get rid of no matter how much Maxwell encouraged her to get contact lenses instead, and placed the cloth over her eyes. It was a trick she learned years ago to help reduce the swelling, and one that she had used countless times when she wanted to make it look like she hadn’t just had a breakdown before returning to her regular activities.

“Everything okay in here?” Ximena asked, opening the bathroom door and pushing her way in.

“Yes. No. Kind of,” Mia said, moving the rag away from her eyes as the other woman approached and began shuffling through a makeup bag.

“What did he say?”

“He apologized. He didn’t give any kind of explanation or tell me where he was or what he was doing, but he apologized, and I know how much of a big deal doing that probably was for him,” Mia said as Ximena set to work on her face. “I’m still upset, but it’s tiring being so mad, and I would actually like to enjoy the rest of my wedding.”

“Your new friends all have a lot of questions,” Ximena informed her. “They kind of fixated on the words ‘fire’, ‘police’, ‘jail’ and ‘dead’. Logan did his best to fend them off, but you’re going to have to tell them something.”

“I know. I’ll talk to everyone tomorrow. But, now I’m going to go back out there and slow dance with my handsome husband,” she said, linking her arm through her friend’s and leading her back to the ballroom.

Mia took her seat beside Liam and leaned over, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips, grabbing his hand where it rested on the table.

“I love you, and I’m sorry for losing it,” she whispered in his ear.

“I’m sorry for changing the seating arrangements,” he murmured back, resting his forehead against hers.

“Don’t be,” she said with a soft smile, “I know you meant well.”

The couple turned back to their friends just in time to see Leo standing and raising his glass for a toast.

“So, as everyone knows, I’m the brother of the groom and the family disappointment,” Leo began, causing chuckles to erupt all over the room. “Even growing up I knew that Liam would make a better king than I ever would. He’s kind, compassionate, and there’s nothing he loves more than Cordonia and her people. Or, at least that’s what I always thought. From the moment I met Amelia Bhatt I knew that there was finally something he loved more than this country. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look happier than when he’s with her, and if there’s anyone in this world that deserves to be happy, it’s Liam. So, here’s to the new couple. I wish the two of you a lifetime of happiness.”

There was a light applause from all of the wedding guests, and Mia and Liam both stood to give Leo a hug.

“Take care of him,” he whispered in her ear right before they moved away from each other. “He needs someone to put him first because lord knows he doesn’t do it for himself,”

“Don’t worry. I will,” she said, squeezing Liam’s hand as the two took their seats once again.

The room filled with silence as they waited for someone else to begin speaking, and Mia kicked Colt’s leg under the table. He jumped at the intrusion and glared at her as she motioned for him to stand up. He did so grudgingly, glancing around the room with a nervous look on his face before clearing his throat and beginning to speak.

“So, um, I’ve known Mia my whole life. She is one of the kindest, smartest, and toughest people that I know. I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t always been the best friend to her. But, even when I mess up she’s always there to help me set things straight because that’s just the kind of person she is. When she loves someone or something she does it with her whole heart. She looks past the bad or negative, and she tries to see the best in everyone and everything. That’s one of the greatest things about her, and I can tell that that’s exactly how she feels about Liam and about Cordonia. Not that Liam or Cordonia is bad!” he said frantically when he realized what his words implied.

Mia facepalmed as he continued floundering for a way to correct himself. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Colt was never really good with words.

“I just mean that when it comes down to it, she’s willing to fight through difficult times if it means doing the right thing for the people and things that she cares about. What I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t take a genius to see that Mia loves Liam, and I have no doubt in my mind that she’ll make an amazing wife and queen,” he concluded, nodding to the room awkwardly before dropping back down to his seat and chugging all of his champagne.

Mia bit back a laugh at his discomfort and reached across the table to squeeze his hand.

“Thank you for saying that,” she whispered kindly, causing him to smirk at her.

“So, did I succeed in not pissing you off any more than I already have?” he asked.

“You almost ruined it, but you fixed it in the end there,” she said, removing her hand from his and letting Liam shake his hand.

The rest of their friends took turns giving a short speech about the two of them, and by the end of it all, Mia and Liam were both holding back tears of happiness as they cuddled into each other. Even Regina, who Mia was sure hated her, had nothing but kind words to say. Soon after the toasts were over, the orchestra began to play and people slowly began to make their way onto the dancefloor.

“Dance with me,” Liam muttered in her ear, pulling her out onto the dancefloor where he began leading her into a waltz.

Mia matched all of his steps and everyone’s eyes were on the newlyweds as they continued to glide across the room effortlessly. Liam spun her out a side door in the ballroom and onto a private balcony, causing Mia to laugh softly as she remembered how he had done the same thing the first night of the social season.

“Those were some smooth moves, Your Majesty,” she said, pressing her lips to his.

Liam kissed her back softly, and the two of them melted into each other’s embrace. They pulled away from each other after a few moments. However, Liam didn’t release his hold on her. Mia rested her head against his chest and began fidgeting with his bowtie.

“I’m sorry that today was such a mess,” she said softly. “I invited Colt because as hurt as I was, such a big part of me still wanted him here. I just didn’t anticipate all of the negative feelings that would come along with him actually showing up.”

“What happened, love?” Liam asked, pulling away so he could look down at her but keeping his hands on her hips. “You’ve never told me much about your past, about your life in LA, and I wanted to respect your space, but I need you to talk to me.”

“I wanted to tell you, Li. I really did, and I still do. I was just so scared of what it would bring up. It’s not a time of my life I like to think back on, and to be honest, I was worried you would judge me for it,” she admitted nervously.

“Mia, I love you with everything in me. There’s nothing you could say to change that,” he said, looking down at her with a tender gaze.

“You do deserve to know, but not tonight. It’s our wedding night, and I want to focus on us. I’ve already spent enough of this day worrying about Colt and forcing you to worry about him too. Tomorrow we’ll have everyone meet us in Valtoria, and we can talk about it then. Okay?” she asked, smiling at him hopefully.

She felt terrible that their entire day had been spent focusing on Colt, instead of the two of them actually enjoying the fact that they were finally married.

“Okay,” Liam said swooping down to pull her into another quick kiss before guiding her back into the ballroom.

Liam pulled her onto the dancefloor, and the two of them spent the rest of their reception swaying in each other’s arms

#the royal romance #the royal heir #ride or die #ride or die: a bad boy romance #trr #trh #rod:abbr #liam x mc #liam #king liam #colt kaneko #colt x mc #colt kaneko x mc #my fics #choices fics #playchoices fics #teppei kaneko #playchoices #choices

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iprincezzinuyoukai · 6 years ago

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All right, before the bendiciones make their debut, I wanted to try an analysis of King Ghidorah’s and Rodan’s past. Because I’m so sure that this Rodan is the baby of those two pterodactyls from the first movie years ago, even though it conflicted with my other ideas. Not to mention I wanted another reason to refer to another Titan… Anyway!

Ghidorah, on the other hand, doesn’t have a lot of backstory, at least not that I remember, like, for example, that they apparently came from Venus, or that they appeared on Venus, and they were originally a species called Dorats, not to mention that they were usually controlled and they weren’t in control of their actions… Pft, I need to see again the movies...

So I decided to do this little fanfic for that purpose. I hope you all like it.

And don’t worry, the hatchlings will be here soon. Anyways, like always it's going to my AO3 ♡♡♡ Love you fellow fellas!

Opportunities.

King Ghidorah was used to loneliness. They were born in space, they were all they knew of their own race. Where they came from, if they’d parents, or even if there were more like them, it soon seemed forgotten when they landed on Earth.

After years of wandering in space and traveling the cosmos, from planet to planet without understanding their purpose, once on Earth it was as if that had been revealed, as if the fog that was in their brains had become clear, they’d to transform it to their taste. It was their right to rule over everything and everyone.

They were the strongest.

The world would fear them or reverence them, and they preferred the former. Wherever they went, whoever dared to face them was defeated and devoured, or humiliated and subjugated. No matter how much the bugs tried, King Ghidorah wasn’t their Gods to be pleased.

It was then that the weak King awoke from the sea...

There’s never been anyone to stand up to them and hurt them before, not without them hurting him a few times, and maybe they’d have won if it wasn’t for the flying nuisance that accompanied him. They vowed never to forget this irreverence towards them and had to escape. They escaped so far until all that was around them was complete darkness and a desolate, uninhabitable, cold land.

They stopped to rest and regain their energies. They’d only rest for a while and rise to fight the weak King again. They had time.

And they did... Only they didn’t think that their rest had been a deep sleep of who knows how long, that the bugs had locked them in metal walls and developed curious weapons, just as the weak King hadn’t changed at all, he was still the same pathetic lizard.

The world did change, it was as if the bugs had multiplied and they’d disappeared, wiped off the face of the Earth... At least not all of them.

They found a flying being, a red demon whose fire caused misfortune in his path, they soon chose him as their partner, and as soon as they got rid of the weak King, the rise of the Titans began.

This was their new opportunity, they could finally transform this planet to their liking. They’d every chance on their side after that explosion and the weak King sank to the bottom of the ocean...

… They didn’t make it.

Just like last time, the bugs intervened in their fight. They were small, but annoying, Ghidorah just didn’t understand how it is that after destroying several of them they seemed to keep multiplying. And even the annoying Goddess came back this time, defeating their partner, and they making her ashes.

All those past opportunities... And they still hadn’t accomplished their purpose... What was the point of being here if they were a failure to accomplish their task?

Their mate’s screeching made them focus on the volcano above them.

Rodan came out of his magma nest, approaching them and nuzzling against their necks. The fire demon could sense their frustration.

Godzilla hadn’t shown up since Boston. Every time King Ghidorah felt he had appeared somewhere in this world, the weak King had already disappeared — For a moment they’d thought that the weak King was running from them, that he was still as wounded as they were, but it was too strange that he hadn’t even gone near Isla De Mara (Something that relieved them in a way) and Ghidorah returned to the island, making sure Rodan and the eggs were still safe.

They had succeeded in conceiving, after they’d doubted, they’d have offspring.

Offspring.

A very strange word in their opinion, they were all they knew of their own species, they’d taken care of themselves when they were young, but Rodan seemed to know what to do since he arranged to settle them near the lava and lay on them with great care, flying less and less, and only leaving the eggs when Ghidorah stayed around Mara.

As now, they were eager to leave, taking off again into the sky, to continue in search of the weak King, but when that idea appeared in their heads, there was also the other and more terrifying thought that when they returned neither their mate nor offspring were near.

They’d already been alone enough to go back to being it. Rodan still had a lot to explain to them about this world if they were going to rule it after all.

King Ghidorah wondered if they’d had Rodan thousands of years ago they’d have managed to defeat the weak King and his annoying Queen, but as much as they tried to remember their past, they’d no memory of Rodan or anyone resembling his Titanic species.

Ni reacted by gently biting Rodan.

Rodan was the only one who seemed to know how lonely they were. Godzilla had Mothra and this one had her worshippers. Mutos, although unfortunately in pairs were dangerous, were extremely protective of each other. Kraken and Leviathan had each other. Even the Alpha on the other island had that human female and his tribe of worshippers...

But Rodan didn’t have any of that.

There was a time when he was a hatchling with parents and siblings, when he dreamed he could remember enough from when his father taught them to fly or when his mother perfected their hunting methods, from when they mentioned other volcanoes that might be theirs in a future. But they all ended up dead after all because of Manda, and he was the only one left.

They had worshippers, but most of them feared them. His family was too dangerous in the sky and his body too hot to live with the humans. So when they passed away and their worshippers stopped fearing him and began to resent him he preferred to sleep in the volcano, dive into the warm magma and remember, to dream when he wasn’t alone. Ignoring Godzilla’s, Mothra’s, or any other Titan’s call, even to his few worshippers who desired his return.

Then, he woke up when he heard a call from his family.

And just as the call began, so it ended.

It wasn’t his family, let alone his own kind, it was someone different, very different from him and the other Titans. A three-headed dragon whose wings and fangs made the skies rumble, and Godzilla had no chance against them. A dragon who despite being one who is many was as lonely as he was.

Rodan looked towards the volcano.

No. They were no longer alone. Even if King Ghidorah wasn’t going to admit it today or tomorrow, they had him, he had them, and soon both would have hatchlings.

Hatchlings that they’d take care of until they could fend for themselves, both could teach them to fly, both could teach them to either shoot energy beams, survive in the magma, or create tornadoes, whatever their offspring were going to do, both would be there to guide them and not abandon them.

The red demon squealed once more before flying back to his nest to guard the eggs.

A shadow covered him as soon as he stood on his nest, Ghidorah landed near the golden edge of the volcano, walking in circles, heads looking in different directions, Mara, the ocean, and the sky, before stopping and lying beside him.

Ni and San looked at the eggs, San came close enough to touch one and move it slightly, before Rodan growled on warning and he stopped. Ichi looked at his brothers before the two heads decided to stop bothering their mate and eggs to finally lie down and sleep beside him.

Rodan once again looked at King Ghidorah and the eggs.

They had another opportunity.

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closetofanxiety · 6 years ago

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Mania Madness: In Queens With Queens Quest

Wrestlemania was in New York this year (well, New Jersey, but you know what they mean), and since I live about two and a half hours away, I felt like I would be failing in my duties as a wrestling fan if I didn’t attend some of the related events. Make no mistake: I did not want to go to Wrestlemania itself, as the idea of sitting in a football stadium and squinting at a faraway shape that might be Buddy Murphy in the springtime chill is not high on my bucket list. But there were lots of other things to do, and I did very few of them! I did go to see the Stardom show in Queens and to WrestleCon in Manhattan, though, and herewith are my observations, jotted down for posterity and, hopefully, your amusement and/or edification:

FRIDAY

I think this is only the second time Stardom has run a show in the U.S., and it’s definitely the first time they’ve done it amidst the surge of popularity they’ve experienced in the GIF era. Although going to visit Hakujinjoe in Tokyo is a goal towards which I am even now socking away money, there’s no guarantee that I’ll ever actually get to see Stardom in Japan, and so this was the must-see event of the weekend for me.

This anticipation was accompanied by two apprehensions: First, my nature reluctance to drive in New York City, even in the outer boroughs. I live in the woods, and your city ways frighten and confuse me. Second, based on many of the US joshi fans I have encountered online, I worried this crowd would basically be a giant convention for creepers, perverts, rageaholic gatekeepers, scam artists peddling $300 autographed gravure DVDs, and people who seem to have only a dim understanding that the characters portrayed in the ring are not, in fact, identical with the women portraying them. Listen: I am not exactly Cary Grant when it comes to wit and charm, and just being an American who watches Japanese women’s wrestling puts me among a tiny percentage of hardcore nerds, so I hope this doesn’t come off as haughty. But there are good nerds, and then there are the nerds we encounter online way too often.

The first apprehension turned out to be baseless, as I got to Queens with plenty of time to spare and, like most joshi fans, headed over to the Rufus King Homestead on Jamaica Avenue for a tour of the mansion once owned by the fiery antislavery advocate and signatory to the Constitution. OK, so I was the only joshi fan who toured the Rufus King Homestead (in fact, I was the only person, period; Rufus does not get much love), but I still learned a lot. Rufus King used to loan money at exorbitant rates to local farmers who owned slaves, and when they couldn’t pay him back, he’d accept the enslaved people as collateral, only to immediatly free them. Rufus King, Loan Shark For Justice!

It turns out the second apprehension was also baseles, because the crowd turned out to be full of awesome people. Really friendly, outgoing, and super enthusiastic nerds, the best kind of nerd, really. The dominant attitude was not, “Oh you like Stardom? Name five of their faction drafts” but “I can’t believe we all get to see this awesome show together.” It was also, by a country mile, the most diverse indie wrestling crowd I’ve been part of, and about 35-40 percent of the people in attendance were women, which really made the whole experience better. I’m not saying everyone was awesome, but it was definitely a fun group of people to be part of for an afternoon. I am ashamed that I assumed it would be full of unbearable dweebs.

So, that out of the way, here’s the highlights of the show, in the time-honored spaghetti Western sytem of categorization:

THE GOOD

Momo Watanabe vs. Utami Hayashishita: Easily the match of the day, and one of the best matches I’ve seen all year. The Queen’s Quest teammates were batling for Momo’s Wonder of Stardom title, which she won from the departing Io Shirai last year. I don’t just like Momo, I identify with her image as the studious but introverted nerd kid who thinks hard work and playing by the rules is enough to guarantee success, only to be constantly frustrated as flashier peers take shortcuts to the top. The tension between these two has been building since Utami’s debut last year and subsequent mega-push as The Big Rookie and Utami All-the-Belts. Momo, who put in years of quiet, dedicated work as Io’s understudy, is in danger of being usurped as Queen’s Quest leader by the newcomer before her tenure has really even gotten under way. This is a great basis for a wrestling match, and these two, aware they were in front of their biggest audience outside of Japan not just in person but watching on Fite, rose to the occasion. I’m terrible at describing wrestling matches, but this was a nailbiter full of near-falls and what-will-it-take kickouts that felt earned rather than slathered on. It helped that the crowd was rabid, with Utami having a slight edge, WHICH ONLY SERVED TO MAKE ME CHEER LOUDER FOR MOMO. I honestly had no idea who was going to win: normally you’d know the champ would retain in an away match like this, but having their second most important belt change hands would also have been a great way to make a splash in their New York debut. In the end, though, Momo retained with her Peach Sunrise finisher and I LOST IT.

Stars vs. Oedo Tai: The villainous but lovable Oedo Tai were over like crazy with this crowd, and people went bananas when they came out to do their pre-match war dance. They could have basically just done that and most people would have been, but they had a fun elimination match with the Stars faction. A lot of zany action in this and a genuine surprise elimination of Kagetsu midway through. The only missing piece of the puzzle was Sumire Natsu, who didn’t come over with the company, possibly because she’s a freelancer. She made appearances at Tokyo BDSM clubs instead during Mania weekend, which is the most Sumire Natsu thing ever.

Yurie Kozakai doing the ring introductions: Stardom was really smart about the idea that they were giving fans in New York “a real Stardom show,” and having the promotion’s normal ring announcer introduce the wrestlers was a perfect touch.

Hana Kimura: The newest Stardom signing looked like a superstar and basked in the crowd’s adulation during a three-way tag match that also involved Konami and Bea Priestley (making her US debut?) and Britt Baker and Brittany Blake, who should have called themselves the Britt-ish. No? I’m - I’m [putting my finger to my ear, like I’m listening] I’m being told “No, they should not have called themselves that.” Anyway, the match was fun but insubstantial, but Hana’s charisma is off the charts.

THE BAD

IPW:UK ran a show at the venue (the NYC Arena, which is an arena only in the sense that a mid-sized nightclub is an arena) right before Stardom, using House of Glory’s ring (the compromises and arrangements of Mania Weekend!), and the bottom rope broke. The effort to fix the broken rope was mostly unsuccessful, and also delayed the opening of doors at the venue by nearly an hour, meaning 600 hearty nerds were standing in line in 39 degree weather, with sleet pelting us. The paperback I had brought to pass the time in line was USELESS. On the lemons-lemonade side of things, though, this did mean we were all in line when Stardom’s bus rolled up, and all the wrestlers disembarked to head inside. Big cheers from the crowd, which obviously delighted the wrestlers. “It’s gonna be awesome!” Hana yelled at us. It was! Once we got out of the sleet

The broken rope delay also meant they had to cut the already abbreviated (five matches) show short, and it showed. The first three matches were all obviously truncated, with the High Speed title match between Hazuki and Dust suffering the most for it. Don’t get me wrong, it was good, and I was impressed by Dust, who’s new to me, but it felt like they were just starting to get going when it ended. IPW:UK, YOU ARE NOW MY ENEMY. OR MAYBE HOUSE OF GLORY, I DON’T KNOW. SOMEONE.

THE UGLY

Maybe half the appeal of this thing was the promised meet and greet afterward, but the meet and greet was more chaotic and less organized than Kelley Square at rush hour (sorry, this is a Worcester reference, Worcester people will know this). Nobody seemed to know where to stand, lots of fans didn’t realize they had to buy little tickets before meeting the wrestlers, and as someone whose job sometimes involves putting up signs in medical buildings, the lack of even rudimentary paper signage was APPALLING. This did not stop me from getting nerdy fan pics with Hana Kimura, Kagetsu, Momo Watanabe, Mayu Iwatani, and Konami. Hazuki left her table before I could get to her, and this failure will haunt the remainder of my days upon this earth. Possibly. The wrestlers all had pieces of paper with common American names written on them, so they’d know how to address the autographed pictures, which was sweet. Hana has great conversational English. There was no line when I went up to Konami, which is preposterous. Konami rules, fellow nerds. The whole thing was nice, and the language barrier prevented any of that thing where guys try to unburden their psyches onto female wrestlers in a bid to make some kind of emotional connection. JUST SMILE FOR THE CAMERA AND MOVE ALONG, PAL.

Also, apparently the Fite stream was choppy as hell and cut out completely right at the end of the Momo-Utami match, and only came back after it was over. Glad I went in person!

In part two, we’ll cover the gregarious Jesse Ventura, the surprising lack of merch slingers at WrestleCon, and the puzzling fame of that fan who had a cardboard sign saying “FACE FUCK ME FINN” at a Takeover a few years ago.

#Stardom #joshi puroresu #makin towns #Mania Weekend #show reviews

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fidelcastrato · 6 years ago

Text

Saturday Night Dead

A dull roar floods a small, derelict house and about a block of surrounding land all of a sudden, followed shortly by a piercing screech which acts as the conditioned stimulus to roughly 30-40 people between the ages of probably around 15 at the youngest, up to pushing-40, causing a mass salivation in response to the promise of real, proletariat, bullshit-free Punk Fucking Rawk™. Brando Murely himself sits on a cinder block outside the door, just enough out of the way of the crowd distractedly making its way inside, everyone in the middle of a conversation, turning around every few seconds to give their latest opinion on the eternal IHOP v. Waffle House crisis, shouting-match phone calls, drunken wobbling, stoned hobbling, and oh-that-sweet-cocaine's-a-calling. From Brando's arm dangles eazily-breezily a small bucket, perhaps formerly housing some domesticated plant, with the word "DONATIONS" written in sharpie on the side. He is only a few brainwaves away from REM sleep, that sultry temptress.

Avey and Fyo take their sweet time. The openers are about to play, now sound-checking, if you can really call it that (not to be rude, but the opening acts of these kinda shows were more often than not either local upstarts or local failures, and lacked some level of expertise in regards to acoustics, dynamics, levels and such), but they have both just lit a new cigarette. No worries, though; they've been around enough that they know the path straight to the front, if it should turn out that The Ushi Onis were worth front row listening.

Towards the back of the house stood in solidarity the introverts so in love with music, but so out of touch with people, the old farts who didn't really care anymore but still attended out of habit, the few (if extant) devout fans of another band on the line-up who just wanted to get it over with already, and the stray college kid; not any art or philosophy major, no, just some regular Joe (and hilariously enough, one independent study in "Crime and Punkishment", a locally famous zine, reported that 73.7% of these people were actually named Joe) who happened upon this utterly obscene proceeding via a stack of coincidence and misfortune--maybe they were there with some punk ladyfriend from class.

In the middle, by far the largest section, you could find pretty much anybody from anywhere. Regulars who still hear the heartbeat of the scene, newcomers enthusiastic but not enthusiastic enough to put themselves out for judgement if they happened to accidentally nod their heads a bit with the music (mortified.....), and that strange demographic that seemed to place itself starkly in the middle of all the aforementioned alignments; middle-of-the-roaders through and through, to the point where they have risen above the road, and the ideal of the road, and smugly glance at one another and then down to you as if to imply a transcendence which those of us who have ever experienced anything in extreme can never know of.

Front and center, ears blasted to bits and facial muscles entering anaerobic respiration due to excessive smiling, the All-Stars of the scene danced alongside strangers, either naïve or drunk. The frontmen of the most famous local bands, the influencers, both silent and megaphonic, the photographers, the beauties, the hype-builders, the next band, the people who arranged this show in the first place, all of them stood in almost equal amounts of admiration as the performing act themselves. The rich and famous of the DIY; the proletariat bourgeoisie; the broke stock brokers; the soothsayers and the fortune tellers; basically, the people you want to know.

"Hey, let's make a film tomorrow" says Fyo.

"About what?" from Avey.

"Who cares? Let's climb that billboard at the top of the hill. Let's hop on a train and record the city from like, some weird dutch angle, or something. Let's see how many cats can fit in one box."

"We could never find enough cats for that. All of our friends have like two cats at least, including me, and that still wouldn't be close to enough."

"Let's give the camera some 4-aco-dmt and see what happens."

"Easy on the Adderall, bub."

Fyo had a pretty publicly-known problem with stimulants, which he was recently combatting with a burgeoning benzodiazepine habit. Avey's personal dog hair was Kratom. Both of them partook in casual use of just about every recreational substance at this point, always especially eager to try something new. They still more or less had a handle on their sanity, but not without their eccentricities. Both had a deep love for consumption and creation of art, primarily music; between them they owned a veritable arsenal of digital and analog synthesizers, samplers, ancient MIDI keyboards, melodicas, and various novelty instruments collected over the years. Each had their own individual recording endeavors, as well as a joint operation making full use of their combined setup. They had played shows, Fyo more than Avey on account of having played in front of various kinds of audiences since the age of 15, from dull high school jazz band performances to the exact kind of venue they found themselves at tonight--in fact he'd played at this house several times already in the past year. “Holy House”, one of the few legit punk houses remaining in the city after a long string of misfortunes over the past two years lead to some places being shut down, others burning down, some simply forgotten about, living on only in the ink of flyers taped to the walls of just about every DIY art kid in the area--it was kind of like collecting baseball cards. Avey had played a couple of the more fleeting art spots once or twice, but was generally overcome with anxiety at the last minute.

Now three cigarettes in a row have been smoked, throughout yet more overly-anxious stim-fueled artistic brainstorming, both Avey and Fyo silently assuming that tomorrow would in reality consist of the same events as every other Saturday; recovering from the debauchery of the previous night, maybe with a half-hour or so of absent-minded musical improvisation.

The Ushi Onis had completed their set, and from what they heard from outside, it was agreed that their nonsense conversations were about on equal footing with the music, as far as time-wasting went. Not that they were bad, it's just.....it seemed as though they'd heard this same band hundreds of times, despite the fact this was their debut show. It seemed to Fyo, who had been in attendance for, shit, a decade now, that every show more-or-less went the same these days. You could even predict non-music related events. There was the guy who got way too drunk and was basically floating around the crowd, eyes only half-open, flailing around off-rhythm in a disconcertingly unhuman way during particularly intense performances--Fyo himself had been this guy on more occasions than he'd like to admit, as well as more occasions than he could literally remember. There was the creep getting kicked out for being creepy; that was a very strict rule for this scene, "NO CREEPS". You'd see it on basically any given flyer. House shows did tend to attract these creeps, what with the combination of pretty, young, and drug-addicted attributes of many of the female frequenters. Thankfully, Fyo had never been that guy. There was the kind of slapstick situation that occurred immediately after every band played, where the members of the other bands playing that night would come up and say "Hey, great set, what pedals do you use?" and then annoy the shit out of the poor guys just trying to fucking get their drums in the van, only for the same thing to happen to the original complimentary artists. Nobody ever learned their lesson. Nobody ever learned their lesson, forever and ever. This pretty much sums up the stagnation that Fyo has recently come to observe within the scene.

"Hey, I'm done here, if you are. Head back to my place?"

"Right you are."

The four-minute drive back to Fyo's apartment left just enough time to blair at obnoxious volume Avey's favorite song by The Mountain Goats (at least, his favorite song that day--the song changed frequently, but The Goats always remained Mountainous). On the way upstairs, Avey got a text from Tomie: "Beck pulled through. Pool party?"

So Avey said to Fyo; "Beck pulled through. Pool party?"

"Fuckin duh."

Tomie was a close friend as well as ex-girlfriend to both Avey and Fyo. Beck was their communal coke dealer. Fyo was the only person in The Crew whose apartment had a pool, and it was the deep depths of summer, so late night swimming was a common occurrence. Tonight, Tomie had brought Beck along (who surely had more coke, and anyone can see that hanging out with a coke dealer, who definitely had plenty of coke to spare, would certainly turn out to be a fun time--Fyo knew this from experience, as an old friend, Jericho, also happened to be a coke dealer before moving off to.....fuck-knows-where; Fyo wasn't sure WHY they hung out so much exactly, or why Jericho had given him so much free coke in those days; Jericho was gay, but Fyo didn't really feel like he could possibly be desirable enough to warrant such favor, especially with his [back then, at least] very socially awkward mannerisms, even after several lines of really honestly pretty great coke--although, Fyo [himself being hetero, this only now in the narrative needing to be made clear] usually thought the same thing about ladies he spent time with, and surprisingly often was proven wrong) as well as invited Fitch, who invited Les, who invited Beck, who invited Lil, who invited Vick, who invited.....

.....

Noujeff.

"Wait you say WHO the fuck is coming to my apartment???" Fyo demands answers.

"Shit, I'm sorry Fyo. I didn't know Vick was friends with him, don't know why he still is. We'll tell him to fuck off once he gets here, waste some gas at least. But hey.....The Crew here ain't gettin' any younger, so let's fuckin' get to it. Pick a record already."

The Crew was, in no particular order:

Avey, reserved but strong-willed and resilient, and disarmingly cunning; he once got Fyo, his on-and-off-again girlfriend Elise, and himself a free pass to this really exclusive music festival in what can only be described as an "experimental city"--FORM Arcosanti was the name of the festival (the town being just "Arcosanti"), located smack dab in the middle of the deserts of Arizona, where Fyo first glimpsed that now-out-of-reach image, occasionally dreamt or half-remembered, of a lone mountain, in the middle of one of the least forgiving deserts in an entire superpower-nation's worth of land, one of the hottest and driest places around, soaring so high into The Places We Cannot Reach, the great heights, the domain of myth and fiction more than anything, of a mountain seen from the road of a lonely desert which had a peak covered, even here in the frenzied peaks of July, the radioactive horror show burning of July, a peak covered in SNOW. Beautiful, nostalgic (and always nostalgic, for there was no "winter" in Arizona), almost, no yes certainly CLEANSING snow. The rest of the trip only got better. That is all we'll say of it, for now;

Fyo, the one whose thoughts we gain direct access to (to hell with a fourth wall; give me 50, 500, 5,000,000 more walls, and I will break them all), generally responsible, has a dependable job as a pharmacy technician, "almost" a real job, and two major flaws; here we move into

1.) Intense Manic Episodes On a Yearly, Predictable Basis

-----

Every year, in the period of time spanning between around March and June-Mid-July, Fyo would suffer an intense clinical episode of mania; he would become obsessive over ideas so obscure and opaque that he only sounded like a lunatic when describing them, and indulged in drug abuse as if suicidal, and more than once now had indeed proven to be so. Fyo would and did argue, however, that during these periods of admittedly (even by him) questionable ties to reality, his artistic output became noticeably higher in both quantity and quality than what was usually found in his "seasonal depression" (so-called) episodes during the months of October-February. No psychiatrist has yet explained this adequately.

2.) An Unhealthy Obsession With All Forms of Art, As Well As the Definition of Art Itself

-----

From a very young age, Fyo had shown great interest in art, and strangely enough but of course conspicuously naturally, surrealist art in particular. At 12, on a family vacation to Florida for the purposes of the (back then affordable even by the lower-middle-class family, with some planning) relaxation of the beach and the primal thrill of the Great Twin Amusement Parks, he devoted a day to visiting the Salvador Dali museum in St. Petersburg, Florida; a couple years later, the very first band he was in (at 15 years old) was named after Dali's "The Burning Giraffe". Then he gradually caught on to the growing web of obscurities, myths, exaggerations, half-truths, genuine enigmas, and philosophical contradictions that were accepted by some as truth, and saw the art embedded in life; and in the mirror, he saw the reflection of such, and in that he saw things that moved him in ways he was naïve to previously. That's how he got older. That's how he saw that the waking life was just as absurd as the dream. All that mattered was which space he occupied at a given time;

Tomie, as mentioned previously was both a close friend and ex-girlfriend to both Avey and Fyo. Each relationship was separated by such distance (spatially and temporally) that it really didn't matter, everyone had moved on cross-country and it was just nice to have people just fuckin' caring about each other, you know? Tomie was not afraid to bite into you in a very personal way, as long as she knew it would help you. She was a great ally to have in the world, if sometimes blunt; but this bluntness was out of a genuine kindness and invariably proved effective somehow. If you trusted anyone's advice, it was Tomie's;

Fitch, constantly in-and-out of jail for something or other, after so many years the circumstances blurred out a bit. Being eternally and self-admittedly impermanent, he always seemed almost as if acting in repentance to the best of his abilities; but around people like this, hope for repentance was laughable;

Lil, probably the most adult of the group, an ex-girlfriend of Fyo from back in the day, had worked her way to a very well-paying analytics gig. She still found herself hanging around with these wannabe artists and revolutionaries, for whatever reason; she was certainly always welcome, and that gave her a warm, content feeling.....

"Pick a goddamn record" says Lil.

Every time The Crew got together for some midnight coke-fueled swimming, someone got to ceremoniously choose a record from Fyo's collection, off of which the cover of the cocaine would be inhaled. It was Fyo's night. He was having trouble deciding. The record that was chosen would also be played on the record player while the lines were being drawn and erased; the lines themselves were on the sleeve, the small but not ignorable visual component of the LP. He looked through his stack; Joyce Manor (played a show with them before they became big--frontman was kind of an asshole. No.), The Antlers (far too sad for shamelessly inhaled thrills), Talking Heads (no, we'll just end up putting "Once In a Lifetime" on repeat), no, no, no, no.....LCD Soundsystem? Hm. Yeah, this one. Sound of Silver, talk to me.

"Fuckin' finally. Okay let's get this train wreck a-rollin'."

Greed filled the eyes of everyone in the room. Along with record-choosing duties came the first line of the night. Fyo lays down one FAT fucking line, finely crushed almost down to the individual molecule it seemed, grabs the closest straw, leans over and looks down at the snowy mountain range here in the middle of the silver desert, and unflatteringly snorts with all his might, and feels each crystal immediately begin its own personal attack on his neurotransmitters, leans back to make sure everything falls into the mucous membrane, nothing wasted, except for Fyo himself, and steps back to fall comically onto the couch, a smile of contentment and even relief overtaking his facial expression as Nancy Whang chants "You can normalize. Don't it make you feel alive?"

This. This is the life.

#fiction #short story #drugs #punk #punk rock #diy #metamodern #metaphysical #arkansas #little rock #lcd soundsystem #surrealism #salvador dali #addiction

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meepmorpperaltiago · 6 years ago

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A Perfect Night

I don’t want to give away too much about this one, so all I’m going to say is that I hope you enjoy it!

On the dark and unseasonably cold Friday that officially marked her and Jake’s tenth relationship anniversary, to say that Amy Santiago-Peralta was exhausted would’ve been an understatement. Much to their disappointment, they had found themselves unable to take the time off to celebrate during the day – they were going to go out and celebrate properly at the weekend, whilst Jake’s parents babysat, so that they would have more time to relax together. So she had spent the date that had officially brought her to the love of her life ten years previously, sorting through mounds of paperwork and dealing with petty in-fights from the detectives under her command. Achieving her biggest dream was obviously incredible, but the job could be exhausting sometimes and she had just wanted to spend the day with her husband. She hadn’t seen him since this morning.

Her heart jolted when she heard the almost shrill buzz of her phone, adding to her already-irritable mood. She felt a little better when she saw that it was a message from Jake and her heart soared up from its previous pit of despair when she read his message. Apparently he had decided to take matters into his own hands and had found a museum for them to go to that night. He had arranged for a babysitter too – they would still go to out for the fancy dinner that they had planned at the weekend, but his logic was that at least they could do something. As she finished her last bit of paperwork, she thought that maybe the day could improve after all.

There was something else in his smile when she got home, an extra level of excitement that she couldn’t quite figure out the cause for. She also noticed that he had already dropped the kids off with their next door neighbour, which seemed a little early, but she wasn’t going to argue against him becoming more organised.

Then she saw the beautiful dress that he had laid out on their bed – and her confusion increased when he saw that he was wearing a suit.

“Babe, don’t you think that we’re dressed a little fancy for a museum?”, she asked with a puzzled tone as she picked up the dress.

“It’s our anniversary, I thought it would be nice to go a little over the top, y’know?” was his fairly flippant response as he did up his tie. Knowing every note of his voice so well after ten years, she didn’t quite believe him. But she didn’t want to mess up whatever he was really planning, so she didn’t question it, instead agreeing and then going over and doing up his tie for him, giving him a quick peck on the lips when she was done.

Her suspicions were confirmed (and her confusion increased), when they pulled up outside of the rec centre that they were supposed to get married in all those years ago. She finally decided to just be straight with him.

“Babe, what’s going on?”, she asked curiously.

“You’ll see soon – and don’t worry, it’s not a second wedding ceremony.”

That thought had crossed her mind and she was glad to know that he hadn’t gone that over the top.

She felt rather out of place as they walked through the cold, slightly dirty and unlit corridor of the rec centre. In spite of how perfect their wedding had eventually been, she felt a hint of sadness, as she thought back to the beautiful ceremony and reception that she had arranged, that had never come to pass.

Suddenly, they turned around on a corner and she was hit with a blast of light as she heard about 70 voices yelling “Surprise!”. She looked around in shock – it was everyone who would have been at their wedding, plus the kids who had been born to their family and friends since, including her and Jake’s own children. She looked around the room. All of the decorations they were supposed to have had were in front of her – there was even a (presumably frosting-filled) Die Hard cake, in amongst a buffet that had been laid out. It was the reception that they had never had, perfectly recreated down to the most minute detail on their tenth anniversary.

She was speechless, frozen with joy and shock. Her eyes filled with tears as, after a few seconds, Love Story by Taylor Swift started to play and Jake led her to the dance floor, to recreate their first dance, one of the few parts of their original wedding that had gone according to plan, although in a rather different venue to the one they had originally planned.

“I thought we’d start off with the first dance, do things a little out of order – are you happy with all of this?” he tentatively whispered in her ear as they got close, clearly anxious to hear whether she approved.

“I’ve never been happier”, she reassured him through her tears.

Her heart filled with joy as she ate with, heard (increasingly competitive in both their father’s cases) speeches from, danced (and drank a little) with all of the people she loved most in the world.

Her biggest recurring thought throughout the evening was that she was so glad she had stepped into the evidence lock-up all those years ago.

#b99 #b99 fanfic #peraltiago fanfic #peraltiago fanfiction #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #jake x amy #my writing

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alkalinesims · 7 years ago

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Episode 8.

Previously on Rising Sun...

Episode Eight.

About a week later, Soleil found herself standing outside of the Brindleton Bay Yacht Club. The warm Sun and cool breeze helped calm her excited nerves. She hadn’t been expecting Darien to call her that morning with arrangements for them to see their wedding planner. She had a lot going on that week. There was a last minute commission that she hadn’t finished, her twin hadn’t been answering her calls, and she had just moved into a new apartment. Soleil couldn’t be bothered with his tantrum. She hadn’t heard from they were supposed to go out to dinner. He was like that sometimes, hot one moment, and cold the next. And since he never apologized for anything, she supposed that this was his way of doing so.

Darien quietly walked up to Soleil after stepping from the car. He slowly wrapped his arms around her as he said “I think that we’ll find something that we like, today.” Being so close to him, she loved the warm leather and sandalwood scent that followed him everywhere he went. It made her realize how much she missed him. She didn’t like when they didn’t speak, it seemed silly to stay upset with him over one missed date. Smiling, she asked “You think so?”

“I’m sure of it.” His voice was as soft as his lips against her forehead as he kissed her, his thumb carefully caressing her cheek. He seemed like he was in a good mood, maybe they would be able to narrow down their search that day…

Just then, Elyse began walking down the steps of the yacht club to greet them. “Good morning, lovebirds!”

Darien held her hand gently as they walked about the courtyard. The gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of the sea. Soleil had always wanted a wedding near the water. Something about large bodies of water made her feel like she could do anything. Although the waterfront aspect of the venue was perfect, Soleil didn’t really care for having the reception at the yacht club. It was certainly a sophisticated location, but she had something cozier in mind.

Elyse showed them around the area and explained the different options that the venue offered. The lakefront view behind the wedding arch was breathtaking. Soleil could just imagine how lovely a sunset ceremony would be. And just off the property was a fire pit, perfect for an evening reception. It didn’t offer as much group seating as she would have liked though. But honestly, Soleil was just happy to be looking at potential properties at all.

Elyse seemed so cheerful during the walk-about; she was definitely good at her job. She made everything sound so extravagant and workable. But, they had a few other locations to see that day so Soleil didn’t think that they should choose just yet.

After that tour, Darien’s driver arrived and drove them all to the second location of the day; San Myshuno Central Park.

Where the last location had a seaside vibe, this one was much more traditional. The courtyard was surrounded by blooming magnolia trees. And in the center was an antique ivory fountain. There was a lot more foliage here. It felt more like a secret garden than a city park. There were lots of little hideaway areas and private places to sit. Soleil imagined that it would be even more beautiful at night.

They were just beginning to walk beyond the courtyard when Darien received a call. He motioned for them to wait, rising quickly to hear as he walked away from them. While they waited to resume the tour, Elyse and Soleil chatted about their weekend.

“So, do you have any plans for tonight?” Elyse asked as she sat down beside Soleil.

“Yeah, actually I’m going to have drinks with a friend. What about you?”

“That sounds fun, I have a blind date actually.”

Elyse and Soleil continued to make small talk. She feigned interest when Elyse told her that she was going on a blind date later that afternoon. “That's so exciting. I hope your date goes well.” Elyse smiled, “Me too, its been awhile.”

Soleil was only half listening to Elyse’s chatter as the minutes ticked by. Wondering what the phone call could be about, she turned around to check on Darien and their eyes met. He didn’t look very happy. He was close enough for her to be able to hear him, but he wasn’t saying anything. She sighed, hoping that he would get off of his phone soon.

Tired of sitting, Soleil excused herself to the restroom. She figured that by the time she came back they would be able to resume their tour of the park.

Once Soleil returned, Elyse excitedly excused herself to go fill out some paperwork and left them to explore the wedding arch by themselves. Soleil found it a little weird but approaching the fragrant, magnolia canopy held her focus. Walking down the petal laden isle with Darien felt surreal. After a nearly two-year engagement, they were finally taking concrete steps to getting married. Soleil almost couldn’t believe it.

Stopping somewhere down the middle of the pathway, Darien turned to Soleil. “What do you think, darling?”

“It’s nice... But it’s a little outdated from what I’ve seen. And anyway, Elyse still has two more locations for us to see.” The shift in Darien’s facial expression was so quick, Soleil could hardly remember what he looked like in the first place. And just like that, the politician came out.

“Well, this is where we’ll be having the wedding.”

“When did we decide this?” Soleil slipped her hand from his, the look in her eyes was that of confusion and frustration.

“Today, my love. San Myshuno will be my city come next election. We’re having it here.”

Soleil didn’t know what to say. Why is he acting like this? “Are you serious?”

“My decision is final.”

“Your decision? It’s our wedding. And you only like this one because you’re running for mayor here. Baby, we can’t plan our wedding around an entire city.” Why didn’t he understand how she felt? He may not have said anything, but his body language certainly did as he pulled out his phone. Was he even listening?

“Darien…” she sighed. Soleil wanted this to be a pleasant experience. But they should’ve been making these decisions together. “Why can’t it be just us planning our wedding? It shouldn’t matter what other people—“

“I know what is best for you, and this is it.”

“This is not what’s best for me. It’s what’s best for your campaign.” She wasn’t finished. “And on top of that you booked a date without even thinking of me. I can’t get married without my brother being here. And I damn sure I can’t set a date without consulting him, he’s all the way in Selva—“

“I will not argue with you.” Darien’s voice was firm, and the grip he had around his phone seemed tighter than it should be. Suddenly it seemed like he was towering over her. Soleil wasn’t sure what to say, he had never seemed so upset with her. But that didn’t matter. He turned around and started walking away. Once he was a few steps away, he casually threw over his shoulder that he was headed to a meeting.

Well, at least he didn’t leave me at the altar… Soleil thought bitterly. She couldn’t believe him. However, before she even had time to even process that conversation, her phone vibrated. She had a new text. Great, what now?

Find out what happens next time on Rising Sun...

AN: Here’s another episode lmaooo. Just needed a break I guess. I promise that it won’t be another 6 months for the next one. 😭😅😂

previously • next time

#ts4 #ts4 story #risingsun #soleil #alkalinesims #darien #elyse #black simmer #blacksimblr #episode 8 #season 1

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oneweekoneband · 7 years ago

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Making Kazakhstani Music / Making Kazakhstan Through Music: An Interview with Megan Rancier

Sadly, very few people have chosen to spend time writing in an academic setting about Kazakhstani pop music. But I found an exception for y’all! Her name is Megan Rancier, and she currently teaches at Bowling Green State University, having previously received her Ph.D. in ethnomusicology from UCLA for writing a dissertation about the use of the qyl-qobyz, a traditional Kazakhstani string instrument. (Spoiler: there is no qyl-qobyz in Ninety One’s work to date.) She also wrote a very interesting paper, “Resurrecting the Nomads: Historical Nostalgia and Modern Nationalism in Contemporary Kazakh Popular Music Videos” (Popular Music and Society, Volume 32, Issue 3 [2009], pp. 387-405), which analyzes, among other videos, the one for Batyrkhan Shukenov’s “Otan Ana”:

youtube

“Otan Ana” dates back to 2002 (and the video to 2005), but it was nevertheless, according to Wikipedia, the very first video played by Gakku TV when it launched in 2015, because “Otan Ana” is a big damn deal. Dr. Rancier’s article describes it as a “pseudo-anthem”. Shukenov died in April 2015, and tributes to him are not hard to find, including this performance of “Otan Ana” at an ethnic music festival in Almaty later that year.

It’s not hard to see how the song became anthemic, between the powerful drums and Shukenov’s strong yet controlled voice. It’s not hard to see how Shukenov, too, became a powerful ambassador of Kazakhstani music; “Otan Ana” is in Kazakh, but his previous group, A’Studio, had recorded in Russian, and become popular with such songs as “Julia” in 1991--in other words, just as Kazakhstan was breaking away from the Soviet Union.

And “Otan Ana,” despite its pointedly nostalgic-patriotic video, is a pop song, as Dr. Rancier notes in her paper:

The cinematic quality of the video and the reverential tone of the music and images creates a powerful “symbol of the fate of humanity” (Kasimzhanova 61); likewise, Batyr himself has described the birth of the child as an “embodi[ment], maybe, of the birth of our new state, the birth of life, its continuation” (ibid.). In a similar vein, the percussion that introduces the song—identified by Batyr as the ancient Kazakh Drum dauylpaz—represents, to some, an “an alarm call that wakes up the soul” (ibid. 62). Besides this one Kazakh musical element, the song resembles a conventional Western pop ballad: the melody written by Kazakh composer Kuat Shil’debaev does not contain noticeable “folk” or “traditional” qualities, Batyr’s voice is lyrical and smooth (with occasional Kazakh-style ornamentations at the ends of phrases), and the background instruments and percussion are synthesized.

Thus Shukenov looms large over Kazakhstani and Kazakh-language pop, Ninety One included; but, as we’ve talked about, there’s a fair bit of distance between the images in the “Otan Ana” video and the likes of “Kaytadan,” so I reached out to Dr. Rancier to ask her a few questions about her studies in Kazakhstan and the social and cultural roles of music she found there. After the jump, her answers.

What inspired you to study music in Kazakhstan?

Great question! And it’s one that I get a lot, because most Americans have no frame of reference for where Kazakhstan is, or what its culture and language are like.

What’s also funny is that many ethnomusicologists have stories that begin with them falling in love with the music or a similar romantic/emotional beginning; that is not how my interest in Kazakh music started! My story is much more pragmatic in nature.

When I was in graduate school at UCLA, I realized that Central Asia was the place where my interests and abilities aligned best. I actually already knew fellow grad students who were working in Uzbekistan and Xinjiang (Western China); so I chose Kazakhstan because it was the most politically stable country in Central Asia at the time, and I found that I could study Kazakh language in the U.S.(and Indiana University) and in Kazakhstan through a program offered by the American Councils organization. And fortunately, there was funding available for fieldwork in Central Asia! All the pieces gradually fit together.

Once I arrived in Kazakhstan for my first visit (to study Kazakh), I began to learn about a Kazakh fiddle called the qyl-qobyz. As a violinist, I was drawn to this instrument because the playing technique was more familiar to me, but the sound it was really drew me in. As I learned more about the qyl-qobyz, I decided to focus my fieldwork on its history, symbolism, and music. Later on, I became more interested in how traditional music serves as a resource for Kazakh popular music and musicians, and how nationalism and national identity become expressed through the use of traditional sounds in contemporary contexts.

A strong theme in your work is how music has become a venue to talk about a common ethnic Kazkah identity. can you explain that a little further, for readers unfamiliar with music in Kazkahstan? Why music? (And what would that mean for non-Kazakh residents of Kazakhstan?)

This is a really complicated subject, but basically the connection between Kazakh music and ethno-national identity starts with the Soviet Union, which took over Central Asia starting around 1924 (until 1991). Although Kazakhs have probably always identified their music as a marker of their group identity – as most ethnic/national groups do with their music – during the Soviet Union, this connection was made explicit and was intensified to the point where specific instruments, songs, clothing, patterns, and many other cultural practices were labeled exclusively Kazakh, and those practices became cultural “emblems” of the Kazakh ethnic group. The use of these cultural “emblems” was part of a larger project by Soviet cultural authorities to “divide and conquer” the various ethnic groups of Central Asia – historically a dynamic multicultural region with fluid political and cultural boundaries – by crystallizing their various ethnic identities and encouraging Central Asians to think of themselves as discrete “nations” based on ethnic identity. Even though Soviet rule ended in 1991, many of the peoples of formerly Soviet territories still conceptualize “ethno-national identity” (including various cultural “emblems” of that identity) in almost the same way that it was developed during the Soviet period.

Music was obviously an area of interest in the development of cultural “emblems” for each ethno-national group. Every Central Asian ethnic group had instruments, songs, and contexts that could be adapted to the Soviet project of fostering ethno-national identities. So you began to see specific musical instruments suddenly proclaimed the Kazakh national instrument, folk songs became adapted to the genre of opera and the resulting work became national opera, previously solo instrumental traditions became arranged for national folk orchestras consisting of folk instruments. The list goes on!

But as for “why music” – that’s complicated. Because music is performative, it undoubtedly facilitated the types of public spectacles that Soviet cultural authorities valued as demonstrations of their policy successes. The phenomena of folk orchestras and other “mass music” strove to involve as many people as possible in cultural activities as a way of educating and indoctrinating them. But music also brings people together, whether they are singing a song together or listening to a professional performance. It is an important outlet for emotion as well as a potential source of influence. The music of a people can represent that people; the music of a nation-state can represent that nation-state. No matter the government, state structures understand that music is a powerful way to move people – and sometimes states seek to control that power.

When you were doing your fieldwork there in 2008, how did you experience music on a day-to-day basis? What are the main channels for disseminating music in Kazakhstan?

In 2008, I mostly encountered music through live performances and through mass media such as radio, television, audio or video recordings, and the internet (although the internet wasn’t as accessible or widespread in Kazakhstan then as it is now). Live performances were a little tricky since you had to know where to find information about upcoming events; often the only form of advertisement was a poster that I might see while walking down the street!

Today, the main channels for disseminating music are radio and internet radio, music television channels, and online social media. Surprisingly, local artists in Kazakhstan do not seem to sell a lot of their own recordings in local music stores; they more frequently offer recordings at their live performances or online (e.g., MySpace or artist website). An important venue for performers in Kazakhstan is at weddings (toys) – which one of my contacts referred to as “toy-business.”

What, in your opinion, are the biggest influences on popular music in Kazakhstan?

Kazakhstan is in a unique position, geographically and culturally situated between several highly influential regions producing their own styles of popular music, including Russia, the Arab World, South Asia (especially India), and East Asia (especially Korea and Japan). Although physically removed from Kazakhstan, the United States has also heavily impacted its popular music since American pop music is so widely distributed globally. Kazakhstan’s popular music draws from all of these influences to varying degrees, depending on the artist in question. Stylistic influences such as hip-hop, K-pop and J-pop, Bollywood, and Arab “bellydance” music regularly find their ways into popular music in Kazakhstan; music videos by Kazakhstani artists also feature imagery from these places.

Russia is also very influential because it is Kazakhstan’s biggest trading partner; if a Kazakhstani artist wants to be successful, then they have to break into the Russian popular music scene.

So there are lots of different influences, and Kazakh music represents only one possible source of musical influence. In fact, the majority of popular music that I’ve seen in Kazakhstan emphasizes typical “pop” elements rather than explicitly Kazakh “national” elements.

In your paper you cited three different examples of "ethno-rock,” with varying degrees of popularity, “Otan Ana” being the best-known. How widespread was, or is, "ethno-rock" as a musical/cultural phenomenon? Also, can you talk about how ethno-rock dovetailed with official government policy--were the artists celebrated? Tolerated? Criticized?

Ethno-rock is still not a hugely popular genre (similar, maybe, to the position of “world music” in the United States), but there are numerous ethno-rock bands of various types still working in Kazakhstan. I don’t know whether I can fully explain why their reach is rather limited; people seem interested when I’ve attended performances in the past, but there doesn’t seem to be a strong demand for this type of music. Part of the problem may be that the music is seen as too “academic” or intellectual, as it is often produced by Conservatory graduates who have spent years learning about Kazakh music history, instruments, and repertoires. Not everyone wants to be educated through pop music!

As far as government reception, I can’t point to a specific policy that ethno-rock either supports or refutes. However, I do feel that ethno-rock has been embraced (if not outright promoted) by the state. I’ve seen ethno-rock performers featured at state-sponsored national holiday celebrations. More recently, though, I’d say the clearest indication that the state feels positively toward ethno-rock is its support of the “Spirit of Tengri” music festival, which features ethno-rock artists from all over Central Asia (and beyond). In 2017, the festival was held in Almaty for its fifth year; but it was also transplanted to the state capital, Astana, to be featured as part of the entertainment for EXPO.

I think the Kazakhstani government likes ethno-rock because it represents something that is both old and new, traditional and modern, rooted and globalized–which is what Kazakhstan itself aspires to be.

You referenced pan-Turkic YouTube comments on some of the music videos you studied. How much of a role does pan-Turkism play in music-making and music consumption in Kazakhstan? (To put it a different way: how big a deal is it that Kazakhstan is hosting the 2017 Turkvision Song Contest?)

To be honest, I think that for many Kazakhs pan-Turkism is a nice idea – inspirational, a source of pride in a shared identity (which is meaningful for Kazakhs since they often go unrecognized by the world community). At the “Spirit of Tengri” festival, for example, attendees and artists have commented positively on the shared heritage of nomadic and Turkic peoples, and you can tell that being part of this shared identity gives people a larger sense of belonging. But I’m not sure that it actively drives people’s music tastes in Kazakhstan (i.e., people probably would not go out in search of music that fits the “pan-Turkic” description but they would likely enjoy it if they happened to encounter it).

Regarding Turkovision 2017, I wasn’t even aware that Kazakhstan was hosting it until you told me! But I think that this actually is a big deal for Kazakhstan because the country seems to view any opportunity to host an international event or competition to be a chance for recognition by the world (which Kazakhstan still seems to strongly desire). And I’m sure that the government also relishes the opportunity to symbolically act as a cultural leader of the Turkic world by hosting the competition.

Finally: any artists whose work you want to tell readers to check out?

traditional music: Raushan Orazbaeva (a virtuoso qyl-qobyz player)

popular music: Aldaspan (Kazakh metal band), Lampy Orchestra (Kazakhstani rock band)

Central Asian popular music: Sevara Nazarkhan (Uzbek classical-turned-pop musician)

introductory post / all Ninety One posts

#ninety one #batyrkhan shukenov #otan ana #megan rancier #ethnomusicology #kazakhstani music

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pomegranate-salad · 8 years ago

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Seeds of thought : Wicdiv 455AD

Hey everyone ! Fair warning, this month’s analysis is a bit heavy on the History lesson side. I try not to go all nerdy on here because I want to emphasize that this is only my opinion/thoughts and not “10 things you need to know to understand this issue” but the further we go back in time, the harder it gets to analyse things without putting them in context first. So yeah, sorry about that. Anyway, as usual spoilers under the cut. Enjoy !

FOUND ROME IN MARBLE, LEFT IT IN SHAMBLES

What in G-O-D’s name did poor Eleanor Rigby have on her face that made Ananke so pissed ? Because let’s face it, between 1831’s wannabe necromancer and 455AD’s emperor in training, her double murder ranks maybe a 3 on the Lucifers-are-a-pain-in-the-ass-o-meter. Having been a main character in the comic and both specials, Lucifer is at this stage the god we’re the most familiar with in the grand scheme of the Recurrence. And while our data is inevitably skewed because we haven’t seen enough incarnations of the other gods, it means that using him, we can begin to talk about gods not only throughout one specific incarnation, but as a succession of incarnations, and analyse their recurring traits – and their evolution – both as a character and a religious/mythological figure.

A few hours before the special came out, I wrote this short analysis of the various wheel symbols of Lucifer in which I saw a common theme of both religious inadequacy and performative value. I observed that according to their symbols Lucifers were not mystic leaders, but performers, closer to the popular idea of themselves than to themselves. Turns out I was accidentally dead on, at least when it comes to the 455AD special. This time, Lucifer is literally an actor, and although it’s unclear whether or not he was one before becoming a god, I think we can assume it is the case, seeing how vindictive “Julius” is about making people respect actors.

Contrary to Greek traditions, actors in Rome were considered the lowest part of society, barely superior to slaves ; in fact many of them came from families of former slaves. A lot of them were basically courtesans who occasionally acted. And of course, the profession was associated with “shameful” sexual practices, homosexuality first and foremost.

Furthermore, Roman theatres are not a place of worship. It is rare to see gods in plays, and there is no religious meaning behind attending a play – something that is hinted at in Dionysus’ choice of calling himself Bacchus. So when “a catamite actor boy” reveals himself to be a god, should the tables turn ? Not as much as it would have seemed : in his flashbacks with Dionysus, Lucifer’s clothes and housing remain shabby, his tone bitter. Divine or not, Lucifer is just an actor. He cannot make History, only resurrect it onstage while Rome is falling. He is loved, but not respected, hated but not feared, brilliant but not enlightening. Who he was is in constant tension with who he became and what he wants to accomplish. Can you blame him for deciding to put on his stage costume permanently ?

In fact, this entire pantheon seems to have faced the same problem : who must you be to inspire people when you have so little time ? In later centuries, and especially in modern times, the answer will be much easier : be a performer. But in 455AD, inspiring figures are not onstage, they’re in the forum or on a battlefield. Those are political times. The answers the gods gave are varied : Baal is a city leader, Inanna arranges a political wedding, Mithras is a general of some sort, Minerva is linked to a place of knowledge. But as for Lucifer, a roman actor, who better to be than the ultimate junction of man, god, acting and political power ? He will be emperor.

But adding a third facet to himself – actor, god, and now emperor – doesn’t solve his paradoxes and inadequacies ; it aggravates them. This special weaves a complex web of references linking all those facets, all of which ripe with tragic irony. There is of course the figure of Julius Caesar, who never technically became emperor and died trying, which Lucifer turns into some grand saviour of Rome. Then we have the usual suspects, Caligula and Nero, the madman and the artist, both of which wanted to succeed to the “great” emperors Julius Caesar and Augustus only to fail, finding a new incarnation in Lucifer. But I see two more emperors eluded to in this issue. First there is Tiberius, who started the practice of throwing criminals in the Tiber, and also famously forbade higher-class citizens to entertain relationships with actors. And even more interestingly, there was another emperor who straight-up forbade his priests and senators to set foot in a theatre : Julian the Apostate, the last pagan emperor.

Holding Christian beliefs became legal in the Roman Empire in 313 under Constantine, who also became the first emperor to convert. Christianity then quickly became the dominant religion all over the empire, extending to the various Germanic tribes who had started integrating themselves to Eastern territories in search for cultivable lands, and had adopted roman culture for sometimes more than a century at the time of the special (if anyone was confused by Genseric being a Christian, here’s the explanation). But in 362, Emperor Julian briefly tried to restore paganism before dying from a battle wound. Only a few years after his death, paganism was outlawed for good in the Roman Empire.

If there’s one invader hovering over this entire special, it’s not Genseric, it’s Christianity. A subject I find fascinating but hadn’t been touched much before by the comic is the relationship between the worshipping of the pantheon and the status of monotheistic, worldwide religions. In modern times, the two seemed to coexist in relative peace, as the cult of the pantheon didn’t seem able to transcend its members’ death. The Pantheon is an event, Religion an institution. But here, four centuries after the birth of Christianism, we are at the end of a cultural shift : Christianism has become the dominant religion while paganism is quickly disappearing. What this means is that this generation of pagan gods is experiencing, maybe for the first time, what it’s like to exist in a world that no longer worships you. Paradoxically, as these gods get farther away from the times they were actually dominant figures, they’ll have an easier time drawing from those sources and adapting them to match the current taste. But in 455AD ? The Pantheon is suffocating in the shadow of the Christ, not relevant enough anymore to sustain a cult on their own, not syncretised enough to resonate within the context of Christian culture.

And this brings us to our poor Lucifer. Of all the members of this pantheon that we know of, he’s the one that will be assimilated most directly and most textually to Christianity. You could argue that Inanna found some sort of syncretism with the Virgin Mary, but if only by their names, all of them save for Lucifer will remain decidedly more pagan than Christian. Lucifer, on the other hand, will see his pagan origin completely erased by his Christian recuperation. From a minor god presumed to be the divine incarnation of Venus, he will gradually become one of the most important figures in Christian iconography, a position that will allow him a degree of changeability in concepts and role that will make for an incredibly rich series of incarnations. Eleanor drew from the evolution of mores and morality to create a supremely cool and even areligious devil, yet one that had the tang of a crisis of faith ; XIXth century Lucifer was both the devil of Romantic artists, a tragic incarnation of creativity and also the remnants of popular beliefs, the grotesque figure of evil philosophy quickly being replaced by higher concepts.

But in 455AD, Lucifer is a difficult one, “this time most of all”, because he finds himself in the middle of an identity crisis. He is being robbed of his traditional divinity and turned into something else. Something that, according to most interpretations, is not even divine, just “a dog shivering from the Divine’s whip”.

Taking the mantle of the emperor is not just an act of hubris, it’s an act of desperation, not only to stay alive as a member of the pantheon past two years, but as a divine figure past his time of worship. It’s interesting to note that if some emperors were indeed deified, they were so after their death ; to Lucifer, they are the proof you can retain divinity even after your time is over.

But of course, you cannot escape programmed death, in more ways than one. Christianity is pertaining at every corner of this issue, dooming the gods to obscurity. The final destruction of the library of Alexandria is said to have been ordered by Pope Theophilus ; the figure of Ildico, the wife suspected to have assassinated Attila, will get overshadowed by Saint Genevieve, said to have stopped the Huns’ march in Gallia. As for Mithras feeding his army with his own flesh, I’m afraid we’ll only remember its famous precedent.

Ananke herself seems to incarnate the unstoppable march of Christianity : draped in a blue shawl reminiscent of the Virgin Mary herself, she is referred to by Lucifer as “the most necessitous mother”.

And as for Lucifer himself… he might try to be an actor, a pagan god, an emperor all at once, but at every turn, he is Christian. I joked that his own symbol, the upside-down Chi Rho, has never been associated with him, but indeed, his own symbol has never been associated with him. Upside-down or not, a Chi Rho is a Chi Rho, and it only ever refers to the Christ. In 455AD, you cannot even signify Lucifer anymore without using the Christ. And then we have Lucifer’s last moments. Like the actor he is, the builds his scene to evoke both his pagan origin (with Jupiter as his father) and his chosen personality Julius Caesar with his last words a direct reference. But while Caesar’s last words “Et tu, Brute ?” were addressing his son, in this context “Et tu, Jupiter” is addressing the father. A father who has abandoned him while he was trying to sacrifice himself for a people. Father, why hast thou forsaken me.

Lucifer dies closer to a failed Christ as he does to his own pagan roots. But how could he have not failed ? It wasn’t that he was bad, or powerless, but he was inadequate. As an actor and as a god, in a time that had no use for the old him anymore and no use for the new him yet. More than anything else, Lucifer is battling the invincible push and pull of History. Being born in the wrong time and place, practicing the wrong profession, loving the wrong person. Being the wrong god. When you’re out of place in History, there is no changing the stage. You can’t create your own atmosphere. When you’re not in tune, you’re not in tune.

And through Lucifer, it’s the death of Rome itself that’s told. Deified emperors were not just additions to the pantheon ; they were the divinities most closely associated to Rome as a political entity. In pagan times, when they invaded other regions, Romans famously let people keep their religion, but all had to be present on the days of celebration of deified emperors. They served as a unifying cultural fabric throughout the Empire. The emperors were the gods of Rome. Lucifer, like Julian the Apostate, tries to reinstate paganism, but with a particular target : the very spirit of the greatness of Rome. He vows a cult to the idea of the Empire more than its gods.

But the Empire is done. And so will be, in barely 70 years, the Vandal kingdom, reconquered by the Eastern Roman Empire. As for what vandal will come to mean… In her final speech to Genseric, is Ananke purposely lying or is she just as ignorant of the future as he is ? Most of all, I think she does not care. In her own words, gods are meant to burn bright to light humanity’s path, but each and every god of this pantheon accompanied the end of an era. If the gods serve any purpose, they do not ensure that the path will remain the same, only that there is a path to continue on. Failure is just as significant as victory ; the pantheon walks alongside History, they do not shape it. The 455AD pantheon’s purpose was to bear witness to the fall of the old world, of their world, and Ananke would not let them deviate from it.

In fact, we are two specials in, and so far have we witnessed anything but endings and falsification ? The events of the summer of 1831 did not just remain a mystery as Ananke destroyed Inanna’s journal, they also coincided with the end of the golden age of the Romantics. 455AD does not simply marks another step towards Rome’s rapid fall, but what really happened is now mere “wilder theories” according to David Blake. So far, it seems a successful pantheon to Ananke’s standards is one she managed to almost erase from History. Once again, ironically, this special IS our Sulla : we’ve seen Ananke rewrite History once, we know she can do it again. How many times HAS she done it ?

“Lucifer was only an actor made great by History” and, as Ananke hints, so is everyone. But Lucifer in the History she rewrote is neither great nor part of History. If truly we are all actors on the stage of History, then every generation is playing for the future ones. The actors do not know their role and the audience does not know the truth. And if the play goes wrong, Ananke will there to sweep the stage after each performance. Alea falsata est.

WHAT I THOUGHT OF THE ISSUE

So, before anything else, can we agree that if Wicdiv ever gets to make figurines of its characters, Lucifer with his homemade harp needs to be one ? Because I have a figurine of the Hieronymus Bosch knife-penis from The Garden of Delights that needs a friend. Cool ? Cool.

I do admire the wicdiv team’s will to have the special be their own thing instead of a simple extension of the normal wicdiv canon. They read like a completely different series, with its own language and rhythm. This one had even fewer kieronisms than the last one and the style is almost antithetic to McKelvie’s. But what this also means is that this reads like the issue #2 of a series more than an outgrowth of the main one. Meaning, it’s a series that’s still finding its footing.

Wicdiv 455AD is much better than its predecessor Wicdiv 1831, but as part of its series I have a feeling it’s not quite what it has the potential of being yet. The story 1831 was trying to tell simply didn’t work for the one-shot format : it felt rushed, with stakes minimal, and its referencing didn’t seem to add up to anything. 455AD, despite technically happening on a grander scale, tells a much more personal story. The limited number of pages certainly works better with one character and a straight timeline than it does with four on multiple storytelling levels. And if the references forced me to take maybe one too many trips by Wikipedialand, it felt purposeful, adding to the text instead of subtracting from it.

So the most obvious problems from 1831 have clearly been fixed. The story of 455AD works wonderfully as a one-shot, albeit one that requires a decent baggage on both the Wicdiv canon and ancient History. This is one of those “the less you know about the character, the better” cases, and reading the reviews I find it very telling that everyone seems to have different levels of empathy for the main character. Over the course of the one-shot, he appears both extremely sympathetic and insufferable. But the shortness of the plot never allows us to form a meaningful connexion with him, meaning we always keep a certain distance from the story, which in this case is a good thing : this special is about the movement of history, the towering feeling of hindsight, the spectacle of failure. Having such distance to the characters allows us to seize the foolishness of his quest while also finding room for sympathy ; if we were more involved, we’d resent his failure. In that perspective, we are more on Ananke’s side than his. We come from a place so far away in History that we cannot possibly root for his success, because we cannot envision the dramatic change that would mean for our own history. Just like Wicdiv #27 took a time limit and turned this limitations into an asset by embracing frenzy and confusion, Wicdiv 455AD took its limited number of pages and used it to tell a story on ineluctability. It had just the right level of story not told to get us just as involved as we need to be.

However, the format of the one-shot still feels a bit too short for its story. It focuses on the character, which was the most important element, but to the detriment of the rest. Rome is falling, but we barely see it ; the most we get is burning rooftops and murdered courtiers. It’s hard to feel the toll and stakes of it all when the camera is zooming so closely on the main character. And call me greedy, but I would have liked to see more of Araùjo’s depiction of Rome. I just love this style so much. I’m not sure if that’s a common type of style in Anglo-Saxon media, but for me in Europe it’s a huge nostalgia bomb. I grew up on French/Belgian comics and this kind of super detailed, expressive and somewhat cartoonish style is basically my childhood. Plus, coincidentally, this type of comics was obsessed with Ancient Rome. Here however, the story happens mostly in geometrical interiors, and save for the triumph scene, the city feels almost empty. Of course, part of it is intentional : Ananke’s walk to the Tiber, from the magnificent streets though walls too small to be intimidating, to a dirty river under dirty stone exudes maybe the most powerful pathos Wicdiv has ever wrung out. But as a whole, the setting lacks scale and life. I think I’ve already said before that locations are maybe the least interesting graphic aspect of Wicdiv, but goddamn, if you give me Rome before the fall and I don’t get a little bit whiplashed by the setting, I feel robbed. Clearly the décor had to be kind of sacrificed for the characters, and the expressions here are just fantastic. They achieve a level of ugliness that’s completely foreign to McKelvie’s style ; even when his characters are pissed, they never stop looking like perfect cut-outs from magazines. The expressiveness of Araùjo’s drawings immediately plunges us in something realer, more tangible and grounded. I just wish there had been more of a balance between character and background.

As for the writing, it still occasionally feels like there was way too much going on in those scripts and what made it onto the pages is what won at eeny meeny miny moe but as a whole there’s much more breathing room in the dialogues. Lucifer and Ananke’s discussion is the one bordering the most on overbearing, but it’s too much of a delight to see Ananke’s manipulative ways to really mind. Of Gillen’s habitual writing style, this special retains its disjointedness (which as usual works when it works and lets you roll with it if not) but adds a substantial touch of natural that’s not that common in the main wicdiv run : bizarrely, despite the complex speech patterns of Antique Rome, this special feels more intimate and direct than the average Wicdiv issue.

Overall, I did really like this special. I think it was starting with a bit of an advantage given how interested I am in Ancient Rome. The Art is to die for, even though it still felt like it could have been showcased even better. The story is purposeful and all the googling didn’t feel like a waste of time. Still, I feel like there’s still some wiggle room to make a truly great one-shot in which the limited space and the conceptuality won’t hinder the emotional connexion. I’d also like to see the specials mix it up by maybe getting away from the “end of the pantheon” motive, and given the next special should be the modernist pantheon and we’ve already seen their end, it feels like the perfect place to do it.

Yeah, I’m aware my opinion is not all that interesting this time, as for me this special falls in the “very good but not great” category, and I’m not that clear on what could have been done to make it great. Most of all, I think it tells us that standalone issues are hard, and when they have to do with a completely different historical context and revelations on the main canon to cram in somewhere, it’s not every day you’ll get something as rich and enjoyable as this.

#wicdiv #seeds of thought #455 AD special

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asicmind · 8 years ago

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All The World’s a KISS Stage (well, it should be...)

Im not alone in thinking that the greatest picture ever taken in rock and roll history is the picture that is the gatefold of the 1977 double album KISS “Alive 2″. This picture totally defines what it would be like to see KISS in concert. I have been to thousands of concerts and none will ever surpass my first KISS concert two years after this iconic photo was taken. I have a numbered and signed print of this photo (by the photographer), waiting for the right frame to put it in.

now, Im very aware that this photo is staged. it did NOT happen during a show, but I can tell you that ALL OF THAT PHOTO HAPPENED IN THEIR CONCERTS!! It happened when they started in 74, and if you go to a KISS concert today, this photo will come to life. Excitiement like this photo is what I look for in concerts I see today. Some bands do know how to put on a stage show...Rush, Pink Floyd, Flaming Lips . In fact, 5 months after my first KISS live experience, I saw Parliment/Funkadelic who learned from KISS on how to make a concert stage work with great music.

So, it got me thinking...what if KISS and their stage show were a part of every other artists’ concert. The WORST concert I have ever attended was Crosby, Stills and Nash. You know why?? here...

look at that!! How boring is THAT! Seriously, I know they are icons and all that but..what propells people to shell out a ton of money just to see 3 guys under three spotlights strumming on a guitar? Now, if they even had just one member of KISS on that stage, or a tiny explosion..WOW!! That would take it up another notch. So ASICMIND is proud to present to you some unearthed nuggets of music history...artists that have influenced KISS, or were influenced by KISS at some point in their career.

We all know James Brown was the godfather of soul, but did you know that he was also the godfather of Gene Simmons? Thats right. And on several occasions, back in the early years of KISS, you would see James Brown front and center at a KISS concert. And Gene would always give him his propers ( thats what is was called back then..propers...look it up). Gene would say, “I’d like to dedicate this one to the godfather of my soul, James Brown...this is Black Diamond”. It was at these shows that Gene got the idea for crazy dance moves for KISS.

Both Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley will tell you that when they started KISS, they wanted to be The Beatles. They wated to be BIGGER than The Beatles. Both bands were a quartet, made up of a bassist and a guitarist that seemed to be the leaders, and a second guitarist and a drummer who contributed their fair share (although Gene will argue that all the way to court about Peter and Ace). KISS had to make themselves different from The Beatles. The makeup, the outrageous costumes, the fire breathing, bloodspitting, and 2 hour pyrotechnic extravaganza of a show didnt set them apart enough from The Beatles. What did they do? They tried out a fifth member to join KISS that just so happened to be a big influence on The Beatles. Needless to say, Ravi Shankar didnt cut it because he just sat there.

In 1968, Tiny Tim peaked with his rendition of “Tip Toe Thru The Tulips”, his number one hit that only charted at number seventeen. It was his staple. He was only known for that song and playing the ukulele. He wasnt even tiny! He was over 6 feet tall! After years of touring for that one song, he finally decided to change it up a bit in 76 by hiring KISS and the whole stage show to back him on his “1776-1976 Ukulele States Of America” World Tour. He died of a heart attack 20 years later.

Everyone thinks that it was comic Sam Kinison that merged comedy and hard rock. There had always been comedians that blended music into their act. Henny Youngman, Jack Benny, The Smothers Brothers..all acts that incorprated wholesome music with their comedy to give their joke an added punchline, if the music itself wasnt the joke. Richard Pryor, on the other hand, had another idea. His “That Ni**ers Crazy” tour featured a hard rock backing band consisting of four guys in whiteface wearing S&M clothing...who were they? You guessed it...

1979 brought change for KISS. They had just released the album “Dynasty” which saw KISS “progress” with the music industry by recording a disco song, “I Was Made For Lovin You”. While it did suprisingly well on the charts, it didnt fair well with most of their fans, and The KISS Army was dwindling down to cub scout status. They tried a number of things... Im not sure why they agreed to back Frank Sinatra on a tour, but they were fired after the second performance when Gene got blood on Sinatras tuxedo.

Nobody tours like Loretta Lynn. She has one tour bus just for herself, a second tour bus for her dresses and three pick-up trucks for her band. One tour, Loretta Lynn was traveling from a show in Fargo, North Dakota to the next evenings show in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Her bus and the bus full of her dresses arrive the next afternoon at the venue but the pick up trucks werent there. She figured they had stopped to eat (as it was a Wednesday, the day Loretta lets you eat), but as showtime was approaching a few hours later, the band still hadnt arrived. Well, as her opening act started to play, about twelve 18 wheelers pull up. It was the crew of KISS and they were playing the next night. She politely asked the crew if any of them could play country. None of them could, but they said Paul and Gene always blasted her music on the tour bus and they were coming to see the show. Maybe KISS could be your backup band. Sure enough, when the 5 stretch limos arrived to bring the four members of KISS to the show, they heard the news and agreed to not only perform, but let her use their stage. It was a magical night. The photo shows the exact moment she realized what happened to the band. “Oh my God, they ran out of gas because I forgot to give them their per diem!”.

“Cant Touch Kiss” was the working title for MC Hammer, as he was a huge KISS fan back in the day. One night, Hammer was watching a KISS show from side stage. They started playing “I Was Made For Lovin You”, and Hammer couldnt help himself. He came flying out on the stage, parachute pants and all, and started dancing. After the show, Gene pulled him aside and said “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, or try and use our name in a song, Ill sue your ass so fast, you’ll be broke before you reach triple platinum”...and, now you know what happened to MC Hammer.

Believe it or not, for all of their evil “devil music” and demonic stage shows, their biggest hit was a ballad by drummer Peter Criss, “Beth”, a song with vocals, piano, and a string section. When “Beth” was performed, Peter would come out and sit on a stool and throw roses out to the ladies in the crowd while he sang against a backing music track. One night the band wanted to mix it up a bit. They re-arranged “Beth” to be done by the four members, and Gene called his old buddy from Hebrew School, Barbara Streisand, to come sit in on the one song. She agreed, but only if she could make some changes. That night, and only that night, the song “Beth” became known as “Babs”.

If you have ever seen or heard an interview with Gene Simmons, he is all about the swagger..he is all about being cool. He is cool when flying 50 feet in the air and blood flowing from his mouth. He thinks he invented cool, so much so that he tried to trademark the word “cool”. He was denied because another artist, Miles Davis, already had it. Gene invited Miles to a KISS show. Miles arrived with his trumpet and walked out on stage unannounced. Gene ran over to him and whispered, “Miles my man, I only invited you to watch, not play”. Miles looked at him and said, “dude, shut the fuck up start playin “Love Gun”. Thats my jam”.

Charlie Daniels wrote the song “Devil Went Down To Georgia” based on seeing a KISS concert in Dahlonega, Georgia. He truly thought that they were the band brought there by Satan himself. Years later, Charlie Daniels still tours with that song being the only one anyone ever recognizes. He makes more money from jukebox residuals than touring. Now with YouTube and all, who needs jukeboxes, so this past year he was invited by Paul Stanley to perform “Devil Went Down to Georgia” at that same venue in Dahlonega. No shocker hear, Paul played the part of the devil. Not sure how they got a stripper pole on that small stage.

A few years ago, KISS was finally inducted into The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. (RRHOF) One of the traditions at the award ceremony is to have someone who was very influenced by, or influential to the nominee introduce them at the award cerfemony and perform with them.. Well that list was too long to pick one person, so the committee pondered on it. Who or what means the most to KISS? The answer...money. At this point during the meeting, the secretary of the RRHOF had just left the room to take a call about her sons babysitter being sick so she had to leave and pick up the boy from the bus stop. Not asking what else was said in the meeting, she went ahead and booked Eddie Money to play with KISS at the ceremony. To this day, KISS doesnt even know why but they made the best of it... Eddie Money blew a blood vessel that night.

Today, KISS is still a major influence all over the performing arts. Even the cast of the broadway sensation “Hamilton” has special once a month matinee performance with KISS as the pit band.

..and even Paul Stanley is a huge “Hamilton” fan..

Today, THE hottest ticket is Adele. No band on stage, no pyro, just ...her...and that voice... people are paying thousands to see her/hear her. but..she knows... she gets it.. she needs to figure out something to boost that stage. Well, she is on the right track.. recently she got former KISS guitarist, Vinnie Vincent who has been a recluse and not been seen in years to come and play guitar for her. He asked if he could wear the makeup and outfit for old times sake. She said, “Sure, as long as you dont spill me coffee, mate”.

Get it?

#kiss #concerts #hard rock #gene simmons #paul stanley #peter criss #ace frehley #adele #concert photography

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yoimeta · 8 years ago

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What are We?

This is the original link (this post has some changes though): http://miss-zarzamora.tumblr.com/post/155866918089/what-are-we-a-victuuri-theory

I was originally planning to pose this as an ask to @thatshamelessyaoishipper.

But the more I tried to fit this into an ask format the longer it ended up being, so I’m just going to post this as a separate post, while still working as a counter-reply/inquiry/ask to this post: x.

Without further ado:

Yuuri and Victor are in the “we love each other but we don’t say or decide anything concrete about it” trope.

That’s pretty much it. I think people were working under the assumption that there was a moment where they talked openly about the state of their relationship. And I think that while there was a lot of communication, whether emotional or mental, and I think the writers did a good job trying to make them meet at the same places in many instances, there was also moments where they didn’t work on the same wavelength, and I think all of those are deliberate, including this little theory of mine. Even with the new information out (courtesy of @toraonice) I would like to think the theory still stands (Although I would like for someone to correct me if I’m wrong)

So, almost everyone takes the state of their relationship for granted, which is what I question in this post. But I think that’s on purpose, like the other times where they didn’t meet eye to eye.

It’s the “there is something strong but neither of us say what” trope. And then the “something big happens but because we don’t say anything about us, we are forced to decide to drift away when we actually want to stay together so we go about it by using ‘another reason (aka excuse)’ to do so”, this reason being Victor’s coaching and then the gold medal, subtly but heavily implied in the “you need to win at least five years” or even the “I wish you would never retire” from Episode 9.

All of those, IMO, are indirect messages. This explains why some people were like “can’t believe they are conditioned by a gold medal” or even going as far as blaming Victor for doing this. They are not conditioned by this. They are using that as an excuse/venue because they never say anything. We all know that trope: There is strong attraction, flirting, sexual tension, direct not so direct words; there is the physical closeness, there could be sexual gratification (not talking about YOI for this one specifically) but no one ever comes out and says anything. Then there is the spin, a big decision to make, and it comes back to the ‘excuses’ “I thought you needed my help more” really meant “I thought you wanted to be with me”. Or that because the other person didn’t say anything then maybe they are not as attached and feel the need to let them go: “I can’t hold you down, you need to go back to skating” and then the slight dig for more information “but it was all your idea to end it at the Grand Prix Final”: “it was your idea to end it… Because maybe it wasn’t anything at all”.

When Victor shed tears, I don’t think it was because Yuuri was retiring only, but because their “arrangement” would end, and they would not see each other the way they did for those eight or so months.

They are indirectly talking about their feelings in that scene too. Victor shares more indirect information: “how could I go back to skating if you retire” meaning “I DO want to stay with you”.

For people that said they were not talking about ending their relationship, I think they were, because by not saying it, and even when doing so, a big decision CAN break a relationship, but even more so when there is uncertainty of their relationship status, when for such strong feelings there is not a conduct to openly speak about it (the conduct being them openly and actively deciding to be a couple and then subsequently openly talking about their relationship).

If they truly agreed on being boyfriends, the subject of retiring would have being far easier, because they are not anchoring themselves to their professional careers only, but to their well established relationship. Yuuri could well retire and go to Russia with Victor. This ambivalence/uncertainty is exactly why Yuuri not retiring and Victor wanting to come back was not a surprise for me at all.

This shines through by Kubo saying “they both decided that couldn’t stay away from each other”. Why wouldn’t have they decided something way before? Because they themselves were being knuckleheads about it and not talking about it; that’s how I placed the idea on “miscommunication” between them. It was not Yuuri not saying what he was going to do only, it was the uncertainty of their relationship, brought on by their silence about their status. The scene at the beach is the principal clue in this theory. Victor openly asks what he can be for Yuuri, and Yuuri just says “Just be you, Victor”.

That’s how I placed one of the staff saying “I think their coach-student relationship is only the outer layer”. Why would they say “think” if they had decided to make them a couple before, even if it was off-scene?

For all the people that thought it was queer-baiting, they just didn’t get the subtleties. They were slightly right in one thing, some of them at least, they could have made some things clearer, but they didn’t because IT WAS DELIBERATE. I don’t exactly think they had to “mark off a certain list of ‘this makes a couple canon’” either, but they COULD have been a tiny bit clearer on some matters, but I think they weren’t because it was on purpose; that “negligence” was another message in and on itself. And again, it was exactly because of this that I was already expecting the outcome of ep 12.

For the people that thought they were leaning on too much on their professional relationship to discredit the whole matter: it was more because they were subtly communicating through that venue, and mistakenly relying too much on that; mistakenly in real life because literary speaking many enjoy that trope: to see two klutz being obviously in love with each other but not saying anything, upping the anticipation for when they finally do.

More cues to lean on this theory:

1. Victor, aside from flirting with Yuuri in the first two episodes, did it so after (before their kiss in ep 7). I don’t think Yuuri would be dense to not see it. I think it wouldn’t be hard for Yuuri to feel immediate attraction to a gorgeous Russian skater either, but it was at the moment that he poked Victor’s head that Yuuri was attracted to Victor, the human, not Victor Nikiforov, the skating legend. I don’t think Victor wouldn’t make it clear what his intentions were either. He came on pretty strongly just right after meeting him, and still offered to be Yuuri’s boyfriend even when he understood that the banquet thing was not really the regular Yuuri of back then. Yuuri’s “I prefer you to be Victor” is not a refusal or ignorance about Victor’s intentions, but of his own restraint to know get to know Victor more, and yeah, maybe his anxiety.

2. When Victor said “should I just kiss you”, many people thought it sounded very… couple like, and I saw here at Tumblr that some people even thought that they had become a couple off-scene between the past episode and that one when it first aired. I think it was because they had already gone that far off-scene, but they never really said anything about being a couple.

3. The ring scene fits in perfectly too on the idea of “double entendre”. Victor saying it’s an engagement ring was his way of expressing that desire. Because truly… Yuuri never said anything directly before. I don’t think Victor would go out and proclaim that 100% seriously without consulting or talking to Yuuri about first. One does not singlehandedly, unilaterally proclaim marrying someone without their consent first. And I don’t think the staff wouldn’t include that if it were true. Again, I don’t think it was because “they don’t need to” but more because so it just didn’t happen, but on purpose.

Even couples (like openly established ones) can joke about it but still openly communicate before or after the joke. I think he meant it seriously not in the “this is indeed an ACTUAL engagement ring” but in the “I’m letting you and everyone know that’s what I want it to be”, which isn’t strange at all between people that love each other.

What I want to say is; that all their actions speak of romantic intimacy, but the one that tethers on uncertain grounds. The uncertain grounds of not addressing the elephant in the room:

What are we?

#yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #meta #yoimeta #yoi meta #viktuuri #victuuri #what are we?#controversial topics #controversy #submission #critique #relationships

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