#but like. hank is so well written its impossible not to love him....

[testosteronefag]

hank schrader doesnt even count as copaganda he is too good of a character

[crash-cinematic-universe]

rumor has it

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary:  Idk if im doing it in the right one but whatever. Can you write a peter maximoff imagine where he has a girlfriend(reader) that has Allison Hargreeves powers from The Umbrella Academy - anon

warnings: none! peter is kind of Insecure but honestly when is he not

notes: this is a shor(er) and sweet one! it is 1 AM where i am so sorry if I missed some mistakes! im on the verge of collpase <3

taglist: @stranger-names @gooseyhouse @parkersdarling @amourtentiaa @toodles-me-doodles​ 

“I heard a rumor you stopped talking,” You groaned, watching as Peter’s lips went from a blur to a thin line. He slumped over, pouting at you with puppy dog eyes. You just stared back at him, your eyebrows furrowed and shoulders tense. As much as you loved Peter, he could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

“Peter, look, I know you’re bored, but Hank really needs this motor fixed and I promised him it would be done by tomorrow. I need to work, but I can’t focus with you here, dollface, you know that,” You attempt to cheer him up, but he’s still looking upset. “The minute this essay is complete you’ll have me all to yourself, no distractions. My one-hundred percent, undivided attention,”

“How long will that take?” The rumor had worn off, but you didn’t mind. Peter looked at you, and the slight feeling of regret washed over you. He was just bored, and probably a little lonely. To be completely honest, this project would probably take you the rest of the day to complete, and probably the better part of tomorrow. It was a complicated motor, and even though you’re quite handy, this type of project is always a challenge. 

“The rest of today… probably a few hours tomorrow--” Peter sighed dejectedly and rested his chin on his arm. Disappointment was written across his face, and it seemed as if he was trying to hide it, albeit poorly. He understands that the work that you and Hank do is important, and he realizes that sometimes he can be a little overbearing, but lately you’ve been so busy he almost never gets to see you. 

“Can’t you just rumor Hank into forgetting about the motor for today?” Oh, you’ve definitely considered it. You take Peter’s face in your hands.

“You know I can’t, Peter,” He leans into your touch. It’s adorable. “It’s a violation of the trust and boundaries we established. Plus, he’ll probably get pissed at me and rip me in half,”

“He’d have to go through me, first,” Peter laughed softly. There’s something eating away at him, the gnawing feeling of worry tearing at his stomach. 

Peter Maximoff isn’t an idiot. He hears the whispers in the hallways, he sees the way the students look at him when he’s with you. They all think you can do better. They’ve all placed bets to see how long you last before you kick him to the curb. You’d think being a hero would make him more popular, but no. Peter Maximoff is just as much of a loser now as he was in high school, X-Men be damned. 

So, yeah, Peter Maximoff isn’t an idiot, but he is a loser. He’s a loser in a mansion surrounded by people who aren’t losers-- more specifically, your socially anxious lab partner. Everyone expected you and Hank to eventually end up together; you were both science nerds, you both enjoyed relatively isolated events, and you both moved at the same pace. That’s probably why the entire mansion was shocked to its core when Peter wound up being your boyfriend. Of course, he loves you with everything he’s got, but there’s always that feeling of doubt settled over him. It was too much, it was all too much and he needed to get away. 

“Whatcha’ thinking about, gorgeous?” Peter got so lost in thought, he forgot about the situation at hand. 

“I-- ” He sounded uneasy. This is how everything unravels-- he gets too honest and scares you off. Peter didn’t pay attention in history class, but he’s pretty sure Rome fell because some old guy was insecure and drove his girlfriend away. “I just, uh, don’t really want to be alone right now.” Peter thought he sounded pathetic. You thought he sounded sweet. 

You looked down at the motor on your desk, the tiny screws and mechanical components jumping out at you like your desk was a pop-art installation. With a smile and a shrug, you pushed away the bits and pieces and stood up, pulling Peter up with you.

“Hank is just gonna have to suck it up and wait another day,” Peter grins as you pull him close. You collapse on your bed, and Peter quickly gets comfortable beside you. His head is resting against your shoulder, and his long arms are locked around you. He plays with your fingers, examining every mark and every scar with the focus of a brain surgeon going into work. Sometimes you wondered if Peter was just trying to memorize every single feature and every little detail that you had. He was.

“Y’know, your mutation is so cool,” Peter muses. You press a light kiss of his temple. “You can literally get anything you want. You could get anyone to do anything for you at any given moment. Everyone in the world is like a video game character to you; all you have to do is give a command and we follow it,”

“I guess it’s alright,” You shrug. 

“It’s amazing.” Peter’s fingers are drumming against your arms at an impossible speed, but you don’t mind. “You’re amazing.”

“You’re pretty cool, too,” The drumming comes to a sudden stop. The gentle rhythm of Peter’s breathing falters as well.

“Eh,” He mumbles. “Compared to everyone else, I’m pretty lame. Compared to you? I’m nothing more than a speck of dust in the galaxy that is you.”

“Aw, Peter, you don’t give yourself enough credit,” It makes you sad to hear him say negative things about himself, but that’s part of building confidence. Sometimes you just need to be proven wrong. 

“Remember when you saved the entire mansion when Cerebro exploded? Or that time you kicked ass on that space mission we went on? If I tried to rumor you into being cool, nothing would happen because you’re already pretty amazing.”

“You really think so?” Peter looks up at you, and something about the look in his eyes makes you want to hold him close and never let him go.

“I know so.” For now, that was enough. 

“Y’know, I heard a rumor that you loved me.” Peter jokes, glancing up at you. You look right back at him.

“That’s a beautiful rumor,” A smile grows on your face. Your companion seems content with that. “Funnily enough, I heard the same one about you.”

“Rumors travel on the devil’s radio,” Peter giggles. You wish you could put his laugh on a CD and keep it forever. 

“Who knew the devil was such a romantic?”

[brw]

Tony Stark and Reed Richards for the character ask thing

TONY STARK

how i feel about this character: 😬 ngl i... don't care for him. at all. i don't vehemently hate him, there's definitely times where i appreciate him & his personality but it's few and far between and i... genuinely do not get the hype. i think its mostly mcu fans' fault for my dislike, its just he's fucking EVERYWHERE now, it's impossible to miss him? like he plays a big role in EVERY avengers comic now, he gets ongoing titles all the time, and it's just so frustrating especially when you consider characters who used to be more or less on the same level on them (like hank pym! who, by the way, has been dead for 6 consecutive years! that would never happen with tony!) or even more popular than him now get streamlined because of the mcu's popularity. by himself, i don't really mind him that much, but with how famous he is now and how large and frankly annoying his fan base is i just... now really do not like the character.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: short list here; reed, because i find their dymanic of reed as someone who does everything for his family and will do everything and anything he can to protect their interests above everyone else but also wants to keep his hands clean and believes, genuinely, in the good of the world, and tony as someone who will do horrendous things in the name of the greater good who always has the bigger picture in mind interesting. i also don't know a lot about it but he seems cute with rhodey? even if i think rhodey deserves a bigger chance to be his own character away from tony as is sometimes denied i can always appreciate a good best friends to lovers dymanic :)

my non romantic otp for this character: um? i honestly don't know 😭 i don't like him enough to say, i guess him n reed again? him n rhodey again? help 😭😭😭

my unpopular opinion of this character: he does not deserve the fame he has. like, i dont mean to sound jealous or whatever but pre 2007 movie he was not the most well liked character or even that popular. like obviously he had fans because he had solo series on and off for a very long time but it just feels SO ridiculous that tony stark has a bigger fandom than the fucking fantastic four. THE FANTASTIC FOUR. marvel's first superhero team, and yet??? like okay. he might have things to offer i don't see. he obviously does, i mean, he got three movies and multiple solo series. but he has most certainly not got enough as a character to overshadow the fantastic four, the x-men, etc and i will never forgive the mcu & mcu fans (and mark miller, he deserves blame too) for making it so. again, by himself he's fine but it is ridiculous to me that a one note white character that appeared in his third film (harley keener or... whatever) has 2000s more fics than THE PROTAGONIST OF INTO THE SPIDERVERSE, MILES MORALES. it is just... so vile and frustrating to me.

one thing i wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon: he didn't exist <3 jk jk um i'm not sure? i guess it would be funny if he was like... stick thin underneath the armour. like idk. he's in the armour 24/7 it makes sense to me for him to be a skinny little nerd under there. like completely fucking small. like you can't be a superhero AND be a billionaire and avoid all those taxes AND run the avengers AND run multiple massive corporations and still work out... even if you take away eating and sleeping there's just not enough time... it would be funny if he was just a tiny little boy underneath all that djndndbf

my otp: gonna say him and rhodey again. like i say, can never resist a good best friends to lovers dymanic.

my cross over ship: jdjshdhdh literally none i don't think about him enough to consider it <3

headcanon fact: 100% think he was the one to offer reed that money to star in a p*rno it's just so funny to me to imagine dhsnndnd

REED RICHARDS

how i feel about this character: HE'S MY BOY! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH! like i guess it's paradoxical considering how similar he is to tony in some ways but man i just love reed so much. i so genuinely think reed richards is what tony stark fans want him to be. like they (mcu fans) make up elaborate headcanons of him being a good dad and an ethical billionaire and its like no that's reed richards? canonically he's gone broke bc he refuses to get money off his inventions... u have the wrong man... anyway he's also an asexual LEGEND i do not take criticism and ofc. autistic icon. literally he's so autistic it makes me <3 i love him dearly.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: it would be easier to list the people i DON'T ship with him lol. sue, obviously, victor ofc, and ben are the big ones, but i just LOVE his dymanic with t'challa and i think they would rlly work it... i also love the idea of him with namor, idk with victor it's just so funny to imagine reed as like. bizarrely attractive to rulers of foreign countries. blackagar faces the same problem <3 i also do believe him n hank pym dated in college for a bit... all their weird little microaggressions towards each other just makes me feel that way... again i do like him w/ tony and i made this weird au where he and emma frost got together which if prompted i WILL talk about. probably. more but yeah <3

my non romantic otp for this character: while i do LOVE them together as lovers i just love. benreed generally <3 like they're LITERALLY besties they love each other sm and i'm tired of pretending they don't????? so many people ignore this relationship and it makes me so sad!!! they're best friends they love each other fight for each other fight with each other theyre literally besties... smh put some respect on the benreed name 😤

my unpopular opinion of this character: i don't think this is that unpopular but it is in certain circles so! i genuinely think reed is the best marvel dad! like you can talk abt others all u want but the fact is that reed is the only character i can think of who has always been there in his kid's lives and has consistently put their needs first. like not saying other characters are bad but even at his worst writing he's always done his best for his kids and certainly has been full of love for them. other characters at their worse have. murdered their own kids <3 genuinely he's the best marvel dad and sure there's not a lot of competition but. yeah <3

one thing i wish would happen/had happened with this character: I WANT A CANONICAL AUTISM DIAGNOSIS NOW. literally he is SO autistic & there are... no big autistic marvel characters! at all! literally none! the closest we have is legion (who was written in an incredible ableist way and autism hasnt been used to describe him in a solid 30 years) and monet (and it turned out it wasn't monet but one of her twin sisters impersonating her :/) so it would just mean so much to see a canonically autistic character like reed who is older & has a wife and kids who he loves and who they love in return on panel. like so much of the rep we DO have is like, young kids or teens and idk an autistic adult would just mean so much to me. especially one like reed who is as selfless & loving as he is.

my otp: tie between doomreed and reedsue! any option that gets this noodle nerd lots of love i'm good for tbh

my cross over ship: him and ralph dibney from dc should date... they have so much in common... stretchy autistic man who's very smart and kind of silly who loves his wife sue who pegs him 🥴 they'd have so much to talk about sjbdhdhd also imagining the look on ben's face realising there's TWO of them is. so funny.

headcanon fact: he's aromantic he's asexual and neither of these stop him from his very meaningful & passionate relationship with his wife :)

assorted character ask game!

[smugraccoon137]

Supergirl Season 2 episode 8 Medusa review part 2

If your curious part 1 was just my breakdown of Kara and Mon-els relationship that got way too long. But as always SPOILERS AND GAY THOUGHTS AHEAD

Me and kel get so excited when Lenas in an episode. Like practically giddy. I can’t help smiling when shes on screen honestly. And yes Katie McGrath is beautiful, but beyond that such a pretty smile and lovely voice. I’m sure ratings started to spike when she joined the cast. Okay enough about pretty girls on to the review 

Tipsy fucking Alex though guys I can’t get over this mess of a person. 

Alex: if I have to come out to my mom then I choose to do it drunk

Kara: no your not *yoinks beer*

Alex: wait no my coming out juice

Kara Danvers sneaky sneaker extraordinaire can totally interview Lena and find out Cadmus things without anyone knowing. The confidence this goofball has is top tier

Underrated relationship: Alex and Winn though. I really really love Winn and honestly Alex is such big sister energy to both him and Kara. 

wow Lenas pretty in the interview scene. A touch of auburn hair from the sunlight really makes this shot and we never get to see her with her hair down. Fan service honestly, or maybe she heard a certain beef cake reporter was gonna come by and wanted to dazzel her.

Lena: hair up is for business. Hair down is for flirting friendship time with Kara

Poor baby thinks she falls short nooooo. Your doing your best godamn your only like 25 jesus. Kara give her a hug she needs love and affection

Kara thinks shes being so sneaky in this interview. Such a golden retriever, bad at sneakin. As soon as she toes the line Lena catches on and kicks her out. Really good acting in the scene, the subtle change in expression to show Lenas guard raising. Good job Katie.

Real quick Lena why is your office so ugly? How do you keep it clean? You spend 99% of your days in this place and its whiter than a hospital room. I hate it. Why is your desk an oval? and why does it have a hole in it? Kara cant eat you out in secret anymore damn. 

OOHHHhhhh noooo the fucking gas bomb in the bar what the fuck. EVERYBODIES DEAD JESUS WHAT WAS THAT

Poor Mon-el. What happened at the bar was fucked up, and he feels like its fault when its obviously not.

Love that he and Kara are having bro time playing some Monopoly. Oh no not Kara asking if he likes her. Honestly thought these two had good chemistry in this scene. Im a sucker for dumbass not understanding certain words and phrases. So Kara having to reiterate her questions and finally being like “You don’t want to mate with me do you?” was super fun. Omegaverse vibes mfs. Although I am confused by mon-els reaction “I mean have you seen the kind of women I’ve been attracting?” I honestly don’t know what this means.

Kara internal reaction though: Oh thank god

Wow Kara really just has no regard for her own life, huh? she just opens the door and possibly contaminates herself. It’s good to want to help people, but love you gotta care about yourself too

Good reveal with the fortress of solitude. Oof Kara gonna feel like its her fault all those aliens died and mon-els sick. They do a really good job of showing Karas relationship with her parents through their holograms. She wants so badly to see them again, to talk to them. And she can, but not really. They just aren’t real.

Lena cattily to her mother: im used to celebrating holiday weekends alone at my desk

me to Kara: please invite her to thanksgiving

Okay so Lena being adopted is another interesting parallel to Kara. Also the fact that both Kara and Lena fall into there families shadows, and are left behhind or forgotten. Really interesting how Lena and Karas relationship is so similar to Clark and Lex’s for obvious purposes. Though the CW queer coding the fuck out of their relationship in Smallville really only adds to Supercorp fever. Its always been Homoerotic subtext Harold!

Me watching Lena and Lillian trade verbal blows: Wow ya’lls relationship is fucked up. Lex and Lionelle would spar and fence but you two are on another level jesus

oooooof that last line. 

Lena: I know your lying

Lillian: and how could you possibly know that?

Lena: because you told me you loved me. And we both know thats not true

Who wrote this jesus fuck my heart. The PAIN.

Bonus thought Lena thinks Karas smart. Goofball beefcake sneaky sneakster who doesnt know the difference between flirting and friendship is smart she thinks. I love these idiots

Wow Kara just doesn’t wait huh? Oh cadmus is going to be at LCorp? Not on my watch. Lena’s there. I know this because I tune into her heart beat just to check on her cus she likes to work late. Don’t worry Alex it’s for friendship reasons.

That LCorp security guard got princess carried for .2 seconds. Best moment of his life.

God its like dark out. Lenas working on a holiday weekend into the night. I hate this, give her friends.

Lena looks so scared when Kara gets thrown into the giant LCorp sign

And then hurt Kara looking up at her with dread.

Kara internal: fuck don’t come out now. I came here to save you

God I love the protectiveness. Its *chefs kiss*. Hank throwing the beam at Lena and Kara even in her hurt state throwing herself in front of it. Sometimes self sacrifice is gay. But how Lena looks at her after wards like “I can’t believe I’m alive. I can’t believe she chose to save me”. Met with a gruff “Get out of here!”. mm yes this is my kind of content. Fight for me.

I was robbed an aftercare scene but I doubt it will be the last time. (*COUGHS* the “im leaving” phone call *COUGHS*)

Talking about the virus Eliza: what about Lena Luthor?

Kara: What about her?! (super defensive is also a super power maam)

Winn: Luthors can be pretty good actors

Kara: No, I looked into LENAS EYES. She doesn’t know anything about cadmus or her mother

J’onzz: Would you stake Mon-els life on that?

well I guess that really puts Lena and Mon-el right next to each other in priorities huh? Which one is more important? 

Wow Lena totally has a crush on Supergirl after that. Flustered dork. 

Lena: *laughs nervously* you know that doors not really an entrance

Kara: *upsettit stone face pupper*

Lena: :,) 

Okay but the way Lena just says “Anything” all breathless and helpful when Kara says she needs her help. Shes crushin hard

Kara tells Lena her mother is in charge of Cadmus. 

Lena: >:(

Annnd the crush is dead. That did not last long. Really love that Lena has such a different relationship with Kara vs Supergirl though, good dynamic having her reactions so different. Which I believe actually relates as a Clark and Lois parallel? Seeing as how Lois has two separate relationships with Clark and Superman. 

OOf the way Lenas throat bobs with genuine sadness because who she thought Supergirl was is wrong. Shes just like the rest of them. Thinks Lena is just another crazy Luthor. It hurts

Kara: I know what its like to be disillusioned by our parents, but Im a pretty good judge of character, and you are not like your mother. She is cold and dangerous. And you are too good and too smart to follow in her path. Be your own Hero.

Wow just what a good line. They are capable of some things here and there arent they? Melissa's delivery on this is excellent. And the way Katie McGrath is able to show such depth of sadness and bitterness even from a shot of her BACK is really cool. Great acting in this scene in particular. And I can see why the “desperation to be good” is such a highlighted part of these two relationship. Its the one thing in common between Lena and Supergirl, the place where they can meet in the middle. And the way Lena looks after her as she leaves! AHHH thats the good shit, the pining

Okay big Mon-el scene in coming so if you dont want to hear my ranting skip over this part. 

Funny how as soon as Kara has this big impactful scene with Lena full of tension and emotion the writers were like: shit we almost forgot Mon-els dying. 

Kara: *staring sadly back into Lenas office kind of wanting to go back in*

Writers: *cough cough* KARA He’s DYINGGGG

Kara: Oh shit right. Mon-el Oh no. My *looks at poorly written handwriting on her palm* romantic interest?

Wow Mon-el looks like shit, poor guy. Someone swaddle this pillow princess and get him some soup.

Heres a question. Kara is visibly upset that Mon-el is dying. Is it because she’s sad that the guy shes likes is dying. Because her friend is dying? Because her father created the virus thats killing him (what the writers want us to think)? Or because no matter what Kara does the people she loves keep falling through the cracks and shes helpless to stop it?

Her parents. Clark. Her adoptive father. Now Lena. Now Mon-el. Why can’t she ever do anything? Why is it always her fault? This poor kid has some deep seeded abandonment issues

Mon-el: you know you look beautiful with the weight of all these worlds on your shoulders.

I do remember my reaction here, cus I thought this was a weird line. A line that was obviously meant to be romantic and complimentary, but it felt unsettled in my stomach. Coming back and watching the scene it sits even more uncomfortably there. He obviously means well, but this line is kind of just shitty. Its a very selfish and unthoughtful thing to say to someone. 

Kara’s entire fucking life has revolved around other people and making sure they are happy and taken care of. But having “failed” at such a young age to do the impossible things asked of her (carrying on Kryptons legacy, raising Clark) she overcompensates. Any normal person would just make their life revolve around their family and friends, not healthy but it works. But Kara feels responsibility over an entire world of lost people and lives. So the amount she overcompensates is ungodly. She does have the weight of worlds on her shoulders. This is not a joke or hyperbole. Its just her life. And thats so fucking shitty. And to have someone actually see that and acknowledge it. To make it a reality so to speak. Then to have them say “yeah you look good like this” while you’re a shaking Atlas being crushed. It is just a little too much isn’t it? That pain to have someone see you finally, and then completely miss the point. For them to go “oh wow your so strong. your so brave” instead of “let me help you. you shouldn’t have to do this at all, forget by yourself. But now I am here”. 

I imagine this was the scene that crowned my darling himbo boy Mon-Hell? Which is so unfortunate. I hope Im wrong, but I feel that his character might just end up a big missed opportunity

I want everyone to know that me and Kel screamed through the entire enxt few seconds of the scene. We knew the kiss was coming from how they were building it up. But god was it painful, especially for it to be delivered after a line like THAT. But yeah very loud angry screaming

Also not to be that bitch but Kara and Mon-els scene was a total of 1:53 RT, and Kara and Lenas ran at a 1:57 RT. Just sayin...

No Lena don’t be evil thats too sexy...

Okay but the way that Lena just tricks Lillian is so good. Shes so clever. And added bonus she makes her ask for her help, which is nice actually. Lillian's obvious vice is weakness and that is often shown in embarrassment. A woman like this asking for help borders that line of weakness and its nice to see on such a dislikable character. Lena didn’t just get what she wanted she got a point over her mother.

Lena looks good in the purple coat. Repeat she is pretty

Love the mental chess game between Lena and Lillian. Lena offering help right off the bat and giving her the isotope free of charge. And then Lillian making Lena launch the virus to prove herself. Good stuff.

Kara appears: don’t do it Lena!

Lena: why not? im a luthor

Okay so obviously Lena switched the Isotope and the Virus won’t work. But thats what makes this line so perfect. Throwing it back in Supergirls face. Like “Yeah, Im a luthor. And Ill show you what im capable of.” But instead of mass death and destruction Lena saves the day. She saved thousands of lives, and its because shes a Luthor that she was able to do that. Really nice way to full circle that 

Wow Lillian really just starts booking it without Lena, huh? bitch

I really love the scene of the virus falling all around National City. The choice of an orangish snow falling was a really really good one. Paired with some excellent music for the mid season finale.

Its sad but I do love Hank just being ready and at peace with death. Im sure he misses his wife and daughters. 

Okay but Lena calling the cops is tea. Send your mom to jail honey. 

So we’re really not gonna talk about how Lena saved everyones asses? Like don’t you think Supergirl would want to talk to the woman that A) kind of tricked her, and B) saved National City. Thats just what makes sense??? But no we’re going to ignore that the DEO is a kind of shit at their job sometimes. And that the woman that they were accusing of having a part to play in all the xenophobic shit is the one who did their job. BY HER SELF. 

Okay rant over. This was a long one review dear god. Really really good episode though. I enjoyed rewatching all the scenes even if it was a mixed bag of feelings. Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed all the screaming!

[boyy-wonder-grayson]

Helloooo how are you? I was wondering if its not to much of a bother if you could maybe do a one shot with dick grayson x fem!reader where she works at coffee shop and she's shy and hes infatuated by her and he just lives her and she's bubbly when he gets to know her a bit thank you so muchhhh ❤️❤️

Hi! Thanks for the request and sorry it took so long, i hope you like this!!

~~~~

Tik tok

The girl sighed looking at the clock, she still had two hours left of her shift and things moved slower than usual. The soft tapping of the raindrops lulled her into a trance; the smell of coffee filling her nostrils calmed her down, and the day just screamed 'sleep', too bad she still needed to stay inside the store for a couple of hours. She opted to look out of the window. The view was beautiful and she was in awe, the city looked gorgeous under the water. She loved rainy days, despite the slow transit of costumers, she always felt the most productive on days like this, too bad no one was around to test that. A race between two raindrops took her full attention so she didn't realize someone had entered the store. The stranger cleared his throat and snapped her back into reality, only for her to sigh. She couldn't see the end of the race.

The barista was ready to take the clients order, without paying much attention to detail, she was bored. But when the stranger spoke for the first time her eyes moved faster than lightning. Locking eyes with the man, her mouth opened but no sound came out.

Burning, scorching sensation covered her entire face,and she was sure she looked more like a tomato than a girl. She tried to cough, to cover the fact that the man standing in front of her was beautiful, but her face was still crimson red and there was no escape from the awkward situation.

"Wh-what can I get you?" She choked out. 'smooth' she thought. There's no way this guy was going to take her seriously. To her surprise he chuckled. The girl dared to look at him once again, taking his features. He was handsome. A nice face that was adorned by chocolate brown eyes, under soft lashes. He scrunched his nose, trying to get rid of a rain drop and the girl almost fainted. 'my God where does this guy come from?' she thought. Handsome and cute were a horrible combination. Horrible because who decided that such a fine specimen could be also cute? Must be a crime. Must not be allowed to walk on the streets looking so damn good.

It took her two minutes to realize she didn't exactly hear what he said, so with the tip of her ears turning a darker shade of red, and her cheeks flaming hot, she asked for him to repeat his order. Daydreaming about a guy she just met was not professional,but her boss was not around to chastise her for it.

Once the order was placed, the mysterious man waited patiently for his coffee to arrive. This gave the girl some time to keep admiring the man. His hair was wet because of the rain, and stuck to his forehead. The girl secretly fan herself to try to get rid of sinful thoughts, though the guy was not helping much. He took his jacket off and placed it on the back of the chair, hoping it'll dry before he parts.

The short sleeve shirt clinged onto his muscles and the wet fabric did not leave much to the imagination of the girl. Too bad she was too shy to say something to him. But holy crap she wanted.

It's not uncommon to see attractive people come into the store; she's seen her fair share of handsome men and beautiful women, but this guy was on a whole other level. Tch, she shook her head chastising herself for getting so excited about something she doesn't know. 'that guy probably has a partner' she said to herself, trying to tame her wild imagination.

She called the name written on the cup 'Dick' she snorted, she hadn't realized the name he gave her when he ordered the drink. Now looking at it, she smirked like a fool. It was a funny nickname to go by. Dick noticed the little smile that graced her face when she called for him. Smiling he asked:

"Something funny?" He said trying to mask the smile that was tugging at his lips.

"Wh-what? N-no, it's just your name. I-i I meant it's kinda funny" she admitted with a lot of effort.

"I know I get that a lot" he said sipping from his drink.

She wanted to badly to keep the conversation going so she went for it, not realizing when was she getting into.

"I mean, how does one get dick from Richard?" She asked. It was too late for her to realize her mistake, and of course dick took his opportunity to be a cocky bastard.

"Well, you ask nicely."

When the girl realized her mistake, there wasn't a shade of red to describe the way her face looked. She went from horrified,to embarrassed to silent everything under a minute. She wasn't thinking what she said until Dick replied with such cockiness. She was horrified about the whole thing and her face screamed 'kill me'. It didn't help that Dick started laughing at her. He thought it was adorable how flustered she got only because of a joke, but the moment she ducked her, he knew it was time to stop laughing.

"I'm sorry, I'm joking" he said, reassuring the girl.

"I-it's fine. I walked on that myself" she said, not looking at him in the eye. She smiled sheepishly, trying to regain control of her emotions. His laugh made her stomach twist in knots inside and to be honest she wasn't complaining about it. It felt...nice.

"Still, I'm sorry" he repeated. Finally the girl looked up, red tinted cheeks still, but she was smiling shyly at least.

"O-okay, have a nice day!" She said.

"You too" Dick walked towards the exit but turned around and walked back towards the girl once again. He asked for a pen and the girl gave it to him. Curiosity lingering on her eyes.

He scribbled down a few numbers on a napkin and gave it to her.

"Here's my number,in case you wanted to ask me nicely" he winked and the girl sucked in a breath. She held the air inside until he was gone. Her face burned once again and she felt she had a furnace for face. One man cannot have such an effect on her like that.

She looked down at the napkin and saved the number onto her cell phone.

~~~

It's been two weeks since Dick saw the coffee shop girl for the first and last time. Work has been keeping him busy enough, so going out was practically impossible. He praised himself for being smart; giving his number to her was a good idea provided that ever since that rainy afternoon they've been texting non stop. It's easier to communicate with her towards text. She keeps the conversation flowing and Dick couldn't be more thankful for it. Throughout those two weeks, Dick had discovered how different she is once she gets to know the other person. The shyness melted away and instead a bubbly, lively, animated and funny personality was revealed. Texting her was proven to be a routine Dick was now accustomed. Hectic days where he didn't even have time to pick up his phone meant no speaking with her, and thus resulting in Dick's sour mood. His teammates noticed the strange behaviour provided by their lider whenever things got busy. And of course teasing was involved. It wasn't long till they realized Dick's mood was affected by a girl. And a cute one according to Hank.

He didn't have time to correct any of them when they insinuated that his bad mood and his sulky attitude were because he hasn't been able to speak with her. It was true after all.

Week number three rolled around and Dick found himself standing outside the coffee shop. It was absurd to be nervous, they've been speaking non stop for weeks now,yet he still found himself fixing his hair on the glass window. It was a relatively quiet day, not many people were inside the shop. Dick spotted you wiping some tables and a grin instantly was plastered on his face. His stomach twisted, a fire ignited inside his guts keeping him warm, making him dizzy. He approached her, slowly, looking at her brows furrowed in concentration, trying to wipe the table clean.

"Hey" he said, smiling shyly.

"Dick!" She dropped the towel from her hand and without giving a second thought she threw her arms around his neck, hugging a very flustered Dick. He hugged her back, relishing in the warmth her body was radiating. She felt like the sun on a warm summer evening. Not too hot to melt, but hot enough to keep your skin warm. She broke the hug first, smiling brightly at the boy.

"What are you doing here? I thought you said you were going to be busy this week" the girl said, motioning for him to sit down on the clean table.

"I got some free time,and I decided to say hi"

"Well, I'm happy you did. My shift ends in...ten minutes. Wanna go get something to drink?" She asked, looking at him with a sweet smile. Her eyes were shining, waiting for an answer. Of course he couldn't say no to that face.

"Sure, I'd love to"

"Awesome!" She said standing, almost throwing the chair to the floor. She blushed lightly, the tip of her ears turned a shade of red.

Ten minutes later they were walking down the street, without a concrete destination. And that's exactly how he felt about her. It didn't matter where this thing that was growing between them took them, as long as they get to do it with each other.

[danadeservesadrink]

Gin and Tonic

The sequel to Wine and Whiskey is here! AND its part of the XF First Dates challenge created by the lovely @starwalker42 ! Hope you all enjoy! Also tagging @today-in-fic

Rated T, 4320 words, read on AO3 here

This is awkward.

She can’t help but think it for the fourth time since she’d walked into the office this morning. He was already lounging at his desk when she had come in, her cheeks still flushed from the harsh autumn breeze. Her heels had clicked through the open doorway and she spotted him first, his feet propped up on the desk, lazily sharpening a pencil, staring off at some papers he’d tacked up on the corkboard. But he heard her and spun in his chair to face her, the dying buzz of the sharpener giving way to silence.

Awkward. Silence.

She knew that continuing to work together after the events of Friday night wouldn’t be simple. She knew when he left her on Saturday, kissing her gently against the door and promising to see her on Monday, that it would be impossible to forget the softness of his lips and the way he tasted. Logically, the fundamental shift of knowing what his naked body looked like on top of hers made things anything but simple.

But she had hoped they would somehow make it simple. It was them, for God’s sake, he was her best friend, her partner. Sleeping together couldn’t ruin that for them.

Clearly she had vastly overestimated her ability to compartmentalize.  

They had stared at each other for a solid two minutes before she even made it through the door frame. It was impossible to read his thoughts, but by the crease in his brow and the way his eyes repeatedly drifted south of her own, she could only guess that they were of a similar nature to hers. And her own thoughts were resulting in a blush that was very much not due to the chilled breeze.

Compartmentalization was a practiced art, and boy did the pair of them have practice. Sure, when she first walked into his office she had allowed herself the momentary thought as to what his strong hands would feel like touching more than the small of her back, but those thoughts were easily shoved to the back of her mind as inappropriate fantasies, reserved only for midnight phone calls with Melissa and when she was feeling particularly wound up by him. That was also 7 years ago. She would have thought she had matured since then.

But today she found that throwing away the thoughts of him on top of her was much more difficult when they were no longer simply a fantasy.

She had allowed herself one more moment to fight the urge to leap into his lap from across the room and repeat the events of Friday night, and then walked into the room with no further glances to the man behind the desk.

This is a workplace, for God’s sake, and you’re both adults. Keep it together.  

The tension she could deal with. It was the silence that made everything so weird.

He didn’t even say good morning to her, let alone say her name for the first hour. The only words exchanged were those regarding the locations of paperwork, and even those conversations were shortened from their usual banter.  

He broke the dead air once and asked her how her weekend was. She actually saw him wince at the stupidity of his own question, and spared both of them the discomfort of her answer by keeping her attention fixed on her expense report.

He was impossible not to look at, though, and she found herself glancing up at him every so often just to see him staring at his own reports. Maybe she was hoping to see him staring back at her, at least give her some indication that what had happened between them was affecting him the same way. Plaguing her thoughts with constant flashes of his tongue lapping at the dip of her clavicle, drifting lower…

But he seemed much more interested in whatever X-file he was studying today.  

They got a phone call at 10:00 and he leaned over the desk to answer at the same time she reached for it, immediately causing the both of them to retract their hands like the phone was now magically on fire, their eyes shooting up to meet each other in a panic at the mere possibility of skin to skin contact. It rang again and they sat in stalemate until Mulder tentatively reached over again to answer, still maintaining eye contact until Scully returned to biting the nails off the hand that almost betrayed her professional exterior.

And now, she was stuck to her seat, frozen while she tried not to inhale the strong scent of Mulder that had suddenly overcome her, ripping her thoughts straight from expenses and back to the taste of Moscato and Jack Daniels. Apparently, he decided he needed a case file immediately and instead of asking her to grab it for him, had invaded her space to reach right over top of her to grab a stack of folders on top of the cabinet.

He must not have realized the effect he had until he stepped back with his files and she released the air she’d been holding in, attempting to mask it under the guise of a sigh but obviously failing. He stood with his arms full of papers and a perplexed look on his face that almost made her laugh if she wasn’t so embarrassed. Eventually he turned, dropped the stack on his desk, and seemed to gather his thoughts before turning back to her.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” he spoke quickly, not really meeting her eye. It took her a second to realize he was talking to her. When she did, she looked up, eyebrow raised at his sudden directness.  

“I usually call my mom on Mondays, but that's really all.”

“Oh, ok.” She can see the disappointment written across his face, but it was him who brought it up, so it felt rude to presume where he was going with this. She waits a beat and realizes he’s not going to continue, so she takes pity on him.

“I can reschedule. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

His smile lights the room, and for just a moment everything is simple again.

“Let’s get dinner”, he says, stepping closer to her, and she finds herself sitting taller in her chair in response.

“Sure, my place or yours?”

“I was thinking we could go out”

Oh. Oh.

She hadn’t considered this. She thought that maybe he’d want to see her again, maybe under the pretense of a movie night or even some late night casework. But Fox Mulder asking her out to dinner was something she hadn’t quite prepared herself for.

Is it a date? Like an actual dinner date, the kind regular couples go on? Does this mean he wants to date her? What does that mean? What does any of this mean?

Immediately overwhelmed with questions, her mind reeled. He’s asking her out and he’s looking at her like that again and this is entirely inappropriate for their basement office but so ridiculously them that she finds herself charmed despite her best intentions.

“Sure. Yes. Where?”

She’s babbling on, blush rising through her cheeks again, and he notices, his smile growing.

“How about that bar, Hanks? I’ve heard they make a mean salad.”

He again steps towards her, and in the small space of their office he ends with their knees almost touching. She looks up into his eyes and suddenly is devoid of all thoughts other than those keeping herself from grabbing him by his tie and pulling him down into her, paired nicely with thoughts telling her to do exactly that.  

“That does sound nice,” she whispered. “What time were you thinking”

“We could just head over there whenever we finish here?”

“Ok” she says, and she hopes he can’t hear the anticipation in her voice. He looks like he might bend over and kiss her, right there in the center of their office, and she thinks she’s very ok with that scenario, but he hesitates.

“Great.” he says, and leaves her space to return back to behind his desk. The furniture lended itself as a barrier to dull the ever increasing pull between them, and her heart rate returned to resting levels. As an afterthought, he mumbled to himself something that she didn’t quite catch, but sounded an awful like “It’s a date”.

“What?” she asked, and it was his turn to blush.

“Nothing, sorry,” he muttered, proceeding to bury his nose back in his files.

It was going to be a long day.

-

They remained in agonizing silence for the remainder of the day, both spending more time glancing up at the clock than actually getting any work done. Mulder casts the occasional glance in her direction, hoping to maybe catch her eye for some reassurance that he hadn’t completely fucked up, but consistently she was focused on her notes, occasionally pressing the pen to her lips in concentration, tapping it a few times there, then resuming her writing.

He didn’t know how she was doing it, staying so calm and professional. The second she’d walked into the office with that windswept look on her face he’d had the fight the urge to cross the room and press her up against the door right there. But he knew that she would chastise him for the very idea, so he packed up that thought for later and tried to pretend it was just your average Monday.

But god was it awkward trying to pretend that he hadn't had her pressed up against his kitchen counter topless and begging. It was impossible not to remember the way she said his name when she came, how she shook in his arms and he wanted her so badly…

He had debated over the whole weekend what to do when Monday came.

Would she want to do it with him again? Would she pretend like nothing happened? Would she even show up to work?

But eventually, he decided on a date. He owed her at least one good old fashion date, where he opened the car door and pulled out her chair. For seven years he’d dragged her across the country on his epic journey for the truth, and she hadn’t left his side yet. The least he could do was buy her dinner.

Sex before the first date wasn’t exactly traditional either, but neither were they. They may as well do this thing , whatever it was, their own way, as non-traditional and ridiculous as it is.

So he asked her on a date. Spontaneous combustion would have probably been less painful but he did manage to blurt it out after their fourth uncomfortable interaction of the day, hoping that maybe the promise of the night would ease the tension. It worked, slightly, and the way she looked at him when he asked made him feel like he made the right choice. He would have kissed her right there if he thought he would be able to stop after just one.

Eventually the silence settled back in, persisting until 6:00 pm on the dot, when both of them arose from their chairs in a daze and started packing up.

He thought when they got off the clock things would get easier. He was sorely mistaken.

The problem was that he didn’t know what to do with his damn hands. Before, when they packed up their office and headed to their respective vehicles, he would guide her out in front of him with a hand placed in his spot at the small of her back, locking the door behind the two of them. While that had been an unconscious gesture before, now it felt deeply possessive and wholly intimate.

Far too intimate for a man about to take a woman on a first date .

It didn’t help that now he knew he knew there was a little freckle right in that spot that he couldn’t help but picture every time he glanced at her back. So he just shoved them in his pockets and used his shoulder blade to hold the door.

Space, too, was never an issue before, and he had never considered how much he invaded hers. Not until he leaned over to flick the lightswitch off and found himself practically nose to nose with her. She froze, wide eyed, as he backed away slowly, like she was a woodland animal he didn’t want to scare off, mumbling an apology.

They stood just a little too far apart on the elevator, Mulder choosing to stare at his own shoelaces instead of chancing a glance over at her. They exited into the parking garage and eventually she broke the silence before they got stuck staring off at license plates and cement walls.

“Do you want to drive? Or can we walk?” she asked. He considered the options. If he drove he could focus on the road instead of the incessant thoughts swirling through his brain regarding the fact that she had to wear a turtleneck today because of him. But his ever growing need for a drink made him lean towards the walking option. And he was worried that at the rate today was going, opening her car door may result in a trip to the hospital.

“Lets walk”

-

They started talking about a case on the walk over, bitter winds making it easy to keep their hands in their pockets, and he guesses arguing over the implications of seemingly random asphyxiation was much better than silence.

She was in the middle of explaining to him how the collapse of the trachea that she had seen in the autopsies could not have been caused without a physical crushing of the neck when they walked in the restaurant. He walked up to the hostess desk to check in with her following closely behind.

“Reservation for Fox Mulder” he said to the girl, and pretended not to see Scully’s cocked eyebrow at the fact that he’d had reservations ready. She didn’t need to know he made them as soon as he’d left on Saturday.

The hostess looked up at him and glanced back to Scully and smiled broadly.

“Of course! Right this way Mr. and Mrs. Mulder”

She turned to lead them into the restaurant and Mulder turned to cock an eyebrow at Scully who rolled her eyes, although he spotted a smirk before she tucked her head to her chest and playfully pushed him forward to follow the hostess to their table. He tossed his hands up in mock surrender and weaved through the tables, eventually being seated at a small table near the back. He went to pull out her chair for her but wasn’t quick enough, and his hasty retreat resulted in him getting caught in an awkward dance with the hostess as he spun around the table to his own chair. He would have sworn she was laughing at him if he hadn’t been so busy apologizing to the young girl.

They barely had time to get settled before the hostess was replaced with their waiter, who introduced himself as Brandon and got to taking their drink orders.

“And what can I get for you and the misses tonight sir?” he asks with a smile, and this is just great, Mulder thinks, before smirking across the table at Scully and replying.

“Me and the wife will both have gin and tonics. Well is fine.”

Scully kicked him in the shins under the table, and he covered his grimace with a brilliant smile that Brandon seemed to buy, as he left the table to get their drink orders in. He turned back to see Scully glaring at him.

“‘Me and the wife’, Mulder?” she asked, and he was almost scared for a second before he saw the hint of a smile gracing her lips, and he knew he was in the clear.

“Just trying to see if I can get that honeymoon discount Scully”

She rolls her eyes again to herself and he recalls something his mother used to say about your eyes getting stuck like that. He thinks if that saying had any truth Scully would have found out by now.

They stare down at the menus placed in front of them, a much more comfortable silence than before. He decides on the steak special too quickly and ends up watching her as she intently scans the soup and salad portion of the menu. He studies her features in the low light of the bar, how she brushed little strands of hair back behind her ear when they were in her way, how she licked her lip when she was concentrating. She was breathtaking even when she wasn’t trying to be.

The waiter returned and set their drinks in front of them, both politely nodding in thanks as Brandon began taking their order. She orders a southwest salad with chicken and he orders the steak and Brandon smiles and promises their meals will be out shortly.

And so they are left, open and vulnerable, without menus or desks to use as shields. Mulder nursed his gin, letting the dry taste of alcohol distract him from the beauty of his company. He could see her doing the same, her eyes flicking around the room looking for anything mildly interesting. He followed her gaze to the table next to them, where a couple sat hand in hand, gazing at each other overtop of half eaten meals.

Maybe he should try to hold her hand?

He looked back at Scully and caught her staring at him. Probably waiting for him to say something. He was also anxiously awaiting his next move.

Who was he kidding? He had no moves.

He thought back to first dates he’d had before. It had been a while, longer than he’d prefer to admit. It’s probably why he was so out of practice. But with those women, it had always been different. He would ask them about their families, their careers, what they watch on TV, normal stuff. Scully has a mother, two brothers, one sister that he took away, she’s the best forensic pathologist the FBI has seen in years, and she’s recently gotten into watching those discovery channel specials on ocean animals.

“So you don’t think the asphyxiation could have been spontaneous”

Work is safe. Work doesn’t involve awkward first date questionings that he already knew the answers to. If they talked about work maybe he could convince himself that they were just out in the field, grabbing dinner after a long day of investigation, not that he was stuck sweating through his shirt on a first date with his dream woman.

“I’m just saying there have been no recorded cases of the trachea collapsing in on itself spontaneously. Given the amount of internal trauma…”

“But your report stated there was no visible external trauma,” he interrupted. “Tell me Scully, what are the typical injuries related to strangulation?”

There was a glint in her eyes when he challenged her and he could tell she was much more comfortable with this line of conversation. She’d always take him up on an excuse to fire those incredible grey cells of hers.  

“Well, strangulation typically results in petechial hemorrhages along the neck and in the face, possible lacerations to the throat or surrounding areas. You’ll see bulging of eyes, discoloration of the face due to blood pooling, the tongue can sometimes be bitten or even swollen itself, and-” she was cut off by a grunt from the table next to them, and both of them turned to the couple they had been watching before, who were now looking over at them horrified, the woman seeming like she’d rather vomit than touch any more of her own dinner. Scully shrunk down into her chair and Mulder apologized for the two of them, letting out a frustrated sigh.

So that’s a no-go on the work talk. Come on Mulder, think. What do women like on first dates? They like to be complimented. You should compliment her.

“You look nice.”

She looked up at him like he’d sprouted a second head.

“Mulder I’m wearing my work clothes. The same clothes I’ve been wearing all day” she spoke slowly at him and he wished there was a window nearby he could hurl himself from.

“Yes, um. They’re nice. Your work clothes” he fumbled, speaking with the grace of a hippopotamus attempting ballet.

“Thank you? Um… you look nice… as well.”

The words left her lips and she flamed red up to her ears. Quickly she snatched up her drink and swallowed the remainder of what was in the glass. He followed suit. Maybe if Brandon came back he could just ask him to bring the whole bottle to their table. Clearly they both needed the catalyst. She was still blushing when he put the glass down.

If his profiling skills were to be trusted, which they often are, she was mulling over the same question that he was.

What the fuck are they doing?  

Going out, sleeping together? Were they tossing away 7 years of partnership for...what? To crawl into bed with each other? Satisfy carnal urges that could no longer be suppressed?

No that felt wrong. This wasn’t just a simple fuck, sex without feelings. He certainly had been feeling a lot that night.

So then what? To take her on dates? To make her as happy as she’d made him all these years? To make love to her? Is that what this is? Love?

Does love make you incapable of coherent speech every time you gaze into her eyes for a little too long? Does love make you want to pull out chairs and order drinks for her? Does love render you an absolutely smitten idiot?

Yes .

Well then, if that's what this is, he better get his shit together.

He reaches over to her and grabs her hand that had been tapping anxiously at the table cloth, his chair shifting and making a loud screech that draws the attention of some of the other customers. He feels her jump as their skin makes contact, almost tipping out of her chair herself, shaking the table and she anchors herself with her other hand. It's ridiculous that just 2 days ago he’d been on his knees worshiping her and now she jumps when he touches her hand. It’s all ridiculous, awkward, by far one of the worst first dates he’s ever been on, but god he loves her.

She meets his eyes and it's too much. They burst out laughing, both of them, him still clutching her hand, her reaching across the table with her free one to grasp his forearm. The laughter almost brings tears to his eyes, and he’s positive the couple next to them is starring in disapproval again, but he couldn’t care less because they’re both the most relaxed they’ve been all day. She has her head tossed back and he watches in awe as she laughs with him. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

Eventually their laughter subsides, and he squeezes her hands to bring her back to him, speaking softly.

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”

She chuckles again, aftershocks of their outburst before.

“No Mulder, I should be apologizing. It’s me who’s been so awkward all day”

She grips his hands tightly, like she was trying to enhance the meaning behind her apology.

“It takes two to tango Scully,” he jokes, hoping maybe if he can get her to laugh again she’ll forgive him.

She does.

“I’m just glad you haven’t given up on me yet.”

At this she raised an eyebrow in feigned shock.

“What, and just walk out on a free dinner?” she jests, and he didn’t know he could love her more.

“Now Scully, you and I both know what happens when the man buys his woman dinner…”

He waggles his eyebrows at her and she giggles again. Maybe the gin was getting to her. He hoped that maybe it was just him.

“Agent Mulder you should know that a lady never puts out on a first date.”

She was teasing him now, with that soft smirk and those flirtatious eyes, and he felt the toe of her shoe tap the front of his shin gently.

And just as he feels like reaching across the table and pulling her in for a kiss, Brandon makes his untimely entrance with their entrees.

“Enjoy,” he says with a wave and retreats back to the kitchen. Scully happily dives into her salad and a disappointed Mulder cuts his steak. The reviews on this place must have been correct, because she is humming contentedly by her third bite, clearly satisfied with her choice of dinner. He made a mental note to look into other restaurants in the area with stellar salad reviews.

The awkwardness seemed to dissipate as they ate. He pretended not to notice her shuffling tomatoes onto his plate and stealing bits of his mashed potatoes back. Eventually when he had eaten his fill, he rotated the plate in her direction, gesturing towards the unfinished potatoes. She acted innocent for a second before scooping a forkful into her mouth. Brandon refilled their drinks but neither felt the call of intoxication any longer. He was perfectly happy getting drunk off of love.

Love .

He wondered when he would tell her. How would he tell her? He wondered if she loved him.

But he wiped a spot of chipotle lime dressing from the corner of her mouth with his thumb and she looked him dead in the eyes and sucked his finger between her perfect lips, releasing it with a pop and instantly returning to the shy smile that she wore better than anything.

He decided that conversation could wait, for now.

At least until the second date.

[welcometomy20s]

January 10th, 2021

Action Button Review

Review

Tim Rogers reminds me of Hank Green. They are about the same age, they look about the same age which is a combination of young and old that feel eternal. They also have the same length of experience in writing in online spaces, interest in Japanese media, and apparently have Crohn’s disease? In summary, he might be the closest equivalent to Dave Green that exists in the real world. Well, I guess Dave Green is not apt, as Dave Green is not special in a way, while Tim Rogers is special, but his speciality comes from his failures rather than his counterparts' success.

Tim Rogers is a hypothetical Green brother who did not decide to publish that book. He’s a hypothetical Green brother who went to Japan instead of Alabama or Florida. Whose project crashed and burned rather than a surprise success. He’s forged in fire while the Green brothers are eroded by water. Both are wonderful people, but with a different ground of intensity and differing wealth of wisdom.

I encountered this series because I found a twitter post about a six hour review of Tokimeki Memorial, and a white middle-aged man talking about a dating sim for six hours with laudatory blurbs would always pique my interest, but since I didn’t know the guy, I went ahead and looked if he made other videos, and found he has four other review that were all about three hours or more. Now I knew that I had to watch all the reviews to prepare myself for this six hour review of Tokimeki Memorial.

Now, I wasn’t a stranger to three hour reviews of video games. I watched Joseph Anderson, Raycevick, Whitelight, matthewmatosis, and Noah Gervais-Caldwell. In fact, in the comments below Action Button Reviews, many people talked about a comparison to Noah Gervais-Caldwell (and Brian David Gilbert) and that was quite funny since I actually watched a recent Noah Gervais-Caldwell video.

His first two reviews were perfunctory, him opening himself up and trying out new things and polishing his review style, as he went through the Final Fantasy VII remake and The Last of Us. While I watched The Last of Us, I distinctly remembered and contrasted Noah’s The Last of Us Part 2 review with Tim Roger’s The Last of Us review. I liked Tim Roger’s defense of interactive movies (although he denies it!) contrasted with more cynical but ultimately positive connotation in Noah’s review. And Noah’s thesis pairs nicely with Tim’s observation that Ellie was the main protagonist all along. That fact makes Part 2 much more understandable, even the bad parts.

When I finished watch his first two reviews, I went ahead and also watched several of Tim’s videos on Kotaku, which were slightly shorter, the longest being just over an hour, which is a review of the best games in 1994, and does contain a short segment about Tokimeki Memorial, which his six hour review was my destination. To put in context, Tokimeki Memorial was #3. #1 was Earthbound, #2 was Final Fantasy VI, and #4 was Super Metroid. And I just watched a playthrough of Super Metroid basically on a whim, because it’s a monumental and a great game to play and watch.

And while the segment of the games that I knew to be great and monumental in my absorption of knowing video games was deeply personal and rightly claimed its stake that it deserved its spot, his segment of Tokimeki Memorial never got there. It was almost as if he was deliberately hiding behind something. In the end of 1994 review, Tim pitched an idea about a three hour Earthbound review, which probably was Tim’s idea of floating a departure from Kotaku, which would happen two months later, and I wonder if he was trying to deliberately throw a curveball by making a video of Tokimeki Memorial instead of the promised Earthbound review. This may be a far leap, I admit.

I went back and watched the video about Doom. It was much better in quality and in darkness. I was reminded of Film Crit Hulk’s writing of The World’s End and James Bond, another very long essay that was deeply personal and chapter for easier consumption. Few commenters noticed that Tim Rogers was just doing a dramatic reading of his written reviews on Kotaku and Action Button dot net, and how they liked that approach, and I found myself liking that approach as well. You might believe a video review needs more than just reading an essay out loud, but just the act of reading an essay out loud in the correct intonation and inflection adds ton to experience. And Tim Rogers sounds like he has decades worth of experience to present a dramatic reading of his essay very effectively, much like Hank Green.

I continued scaling the mountain to my goal. I went through his review of Pac-Man and was delighted by his reading of Namco games, and was impressed by the opening sequence, and just generally enjoyed it. I was getting excited to set a day aside and let the six hour review of Tokimeki Memorial watch over me and reduce me to dust.

And it sure did. That six hours was a harrowing experience. What Tim Rogers is best at is telling a story, and so to go through a let’s play was a wish I never made, fulfilled. In the end, I was left with nothing and everything. It was like finishing a really good book.

I wanted to watch it again, then again I never wanted to watch it again. It was almost a traumatic experience. Tim talked about there being endless variation of love, and the love Tim Rogers went through was not the fluffy yet melancholic one that I craved, but one akin to a devotion of an eldritch god. Love made in justification for one’s efforts in attending and maintaining a relationship. A love stronger than most kinds of love, but most draining and taxing as well. Tim Roger’s synopsis of Tennis Monster reminded me of Asking for It by Louise O’Neill, which is also about empathizing a quite hateable character because we kind of have to. Apparently one person knows the full plot because Tim Rogers rambled on about it as he was couch surfing in his house, and unbelieve as it usually is, I fully trust that the commenter is telling the truth.

I was like a heroin addict, who really wanted a different hit, like talking to friends or hiking, my mother wanted me to go hiking with her, and I didn’t because, after the pandemic started, all I wanted to be was inside. Outside felt diseased. The air outside felt contaminated to me, hard to breathe. I was stuck in this place.

Tim Rogers is an exceptional figure. He seems to be a movie protagonist, he reminds me of The Librarian, played by Noah Wyle. Tim has eidetic memory, as he has access every single autobiographical memory formed, but not other types of memory. We know that those types of memory are different because of people like Tim and people who are opposite of Tim, someone who has no memories of autobiographical memory but otherwise fine. These people tend to have very few emotions and have a hard time deciding things. Lack of emotions is correlated with difficulty in decision making.

So Tim is the opposite of that, Tim is full of emotions, complex emotions and he can make decisions and carry it out in a snap. He would be good at school, and he was, but he would be too focused on his grandeur to be under some authority, which is how he became who he was. His anti-authoritarian nature rings throughout his reviews, highlight the general Generation X vibe that Tim exudes but also the modern socialistic movement of Generation Z, which adds to this odd mix of old and new.

Not only does Tim have eidetic memory and intense work ethic that he never seems to move away from, therefore making a three hour video masterpiece at a clip that seems unbelievable for a seasoned viewer, he also has exceptional skills in fast math and language, he seems to be at least familiar with dozens of languages, and of course Tim’s experience is bounded by his decade of living in Japan.

I think this is why Tim naturally gravitates towards video games. When Tim says ‘welcome to video games’ there’s a natural supposition that Tim Rogers is the protagonist of video games, and I think he is. Tim wants to be in video games, because he needs to be in video games, instead of some almighty god cruelly deciding to plop him into a real life. He should be an video game adaptation of The Librarian and go on world-spanning adventure and romance impossibly beautiful girls instead of toiling the grime of what real life portends to. His life is dramatic, but impossibly mundane as well. It’s a simulacrum of a movie or a video game, which is pretty cool on its own.

But of course Tim Rogers isn’t the only part of Action Button Reviews. In the ensuing five videos, Tim Rogers tries to do something. Video games are a wide net. There is so much to video games, something like Gone Home and Geometry Dash are included alongside Wolfenstein The New Colossus and Farmville. What makes a video game? Actually, the more interesting question is, why do we have the term ‘video games’? Why do we put all of this mess into a single category, as if there is some throughline.

Tim Rogers starts to do that. Tim Rogers boldly states that things like Doom and Tokimeki Memorial are intimately connected to each other. And that all video games are in conversation with each other, through deep and complex meta-narratives. Tim Rogers is a cartographer, trying to map out how video games are made whole.

I’ve always strived to be that kind of a cartographer, to showcase the weave of reality, of connecting two seemingly unconnected parts, and showing to a profound implication both existing, instead of one or the other. If you don’t know, I have been trying to write something out of my current obsession with Virtual YouTubers, and mostly Hololive, and while I think I stumbled upon the six hour video review of Tokimeki Memorial outside of my interest in virtual YouTubers, this video, as I expected in the back of my head, gave me plenty of thoughts about Hololive. Its rumination of cyberpunk and idol culture is so directly connected with the peculiarities of Hololive that I was quite astounded.

From the very beginning, I wonder how Tim Rogers thinks about Hololive, especially after he has done that six hour review. I’m sure he will have a lot of interesting thoughts about the prospect. I want to get in contact with him, maybe work under him. But then I don’t want to hang out with him. I want to be near him as he talks to a crowd at a party, but I don’t feel safe to be near him when there’s less than ten people nearby. I think below ten, I would be swept in some danger that I won’t be prepared for.

Tim Rogers and Action Button Review is a fascinating review series and if you have the time, I suggest you should take the journey. It’s well worth it, just to get a different perspective on video games and the world around it.

[toutallyahoe]

You said you're taking requests, and I'm bored out of my mind so...how bout a connor for dbh headcannon where he just doesn't understand how the Sun could be in his s/o's eye ("it's in the sky detective, how can it be in your eye too?") and after a few guesses he just googled it and goes "oh." Then starts using it without proper context.

You heard that right and asdfghjkl thats quite adorable. A havent written anything DBH related for a bit so I'm a bit rusty but oh well

My dumb ass was so confused with this for a bit but its just the sleep deprivation sooo also, I just found out that theres a song called the "Sun In Our Eyes" by MØ and I like it

Edit: im so fucking sorry for publishing without finishing this shit. Its 1 a.m. here okay?!?!

⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃

Connor was confused

[Name], his pop cultured, meme talking and also loving partner is always odd

and he certainly does not understand those words [Name] says at times

or rather, what most says too

like right now

the two were on the break room, just recently finished a case while Hank decided to actually write his report

Connor and his [Name] were just relaxing

well, [Name] was while Connor accompanies him

as [Name] was stirring his cup of coffee that he brew not so long ago

Connor was slowly drifting off to his thoughts

he was a deviant now by the way

but back to the thoughts thing

Connor remembered someone had mentioned about [Name] eyes in a case

it was the newbie recruit if he remembered correctly and he did

the newbie saying how [Name]'s [Eye color] eyes were like the sun is shining in on them

[Name] after all a kind and charming man

but Connor was confused on why that recruit says so

after all, the sun can not be taken out of the sky. that is very impossible to do such a thing

so he had asked that on [Name]

"[Name]?"

"Hm? Yeah, Con?"

"I have a question"

"Okay? Shoot"

"I do not understand. my program would not allow me to do such a thing [Name] and even if it does, I will certainly not do so"

"Crap, you're still new to this.. right... what I meant was... ask away"

"I see... well, I am wondering on why does someone says that the sun is in your eyes? It is the sun. It can not physically moved. It is in the sky"

cue confused [Name]

"Huh???"

"Apologies but P.O. recruit Jameson had said that the sun is in your eyes the other day and I am confused"

"Oh... Oh... Connor, I think Jameson meant was that my eyes are bright or something. I dunno"

"I... I see..."

still not satisfied with it

Connor still wants to know more about "the sun in [Name]'s eyes"

he went to Hank next

the lieutenant was not much help

"I do not know about this... umm... fuck, just ask someone else"

Connor went to Reed

the brunet detective flipped him off and cussed him out

Connor didnt know where to go as Conan and Connil is obviously not verse on this knowledge aswell as they are still new to deviancy

then Connor remembered that he can go ask the web

so he did

so many results

like... so fucking many

and he is so fucking confused

Connor's LED swirled to yellow to indicate his confusion

but after searching for a bit

he finally found some context

and he used it

it did not go so well really

despite [Name] kinda explaining and Connor searching it out already

he is still a dumbass

"[Name]"

"Oh, hey Connor, good morning!"

"The sun is quote lovely today"

Connor says as he stares into [Name]'s [Eye color] eyes blankly

"Okay...?"

[Name] is confused

what the fuck is up with Connor?

his confusion goes more levels as the day passed because Connor is just making him so damn confused with this "sun" and looking at his eyes thing

help this man

and help the android

after a few more awkward staring and odd sentences coming out of Connor's mouth

[Name] had enough and asked what is wrong with Connor

"[Name] I--"

"Alright, that's it! Connor... look... are you alright?"

Connor tilts his head a bit as that (cute) look of confusion plastered on his face

"Pardon me [Name]?"

[Name] sighs as he placed a hand on Connor's shoulder

"Look... Con... you just been recently acting kinda weird. Staring at my eyes and saying weird stuff and shit... I mean... its kinda adorable ag first but now its kinda creeping me off love"

"I... I did not realize that I am causing such discomfort to you [Name]"

Connor looked like a kicked puppy and [Name] felt his heart fucking squeezed at this android

"Its alright... just... why did you act like that?"

"I just want to compliment your eyes... like what P.O. recruit Jamesom did... comparing it to the sun..."

[Name] wanted to die

his android boi wanted to compliment his eyes???

aweeeeeeeeeeee

[Name] smiled and placed a soft kiss on Connor's forehead

"Well... that was sweet of you"

Connor's face lit up by that

"Still... i need to teach you how to compliment and what does "the sun in my eyes" mean though"

[Name] teased as Connor nodded his head with a smile om his lips

[Name] did teach Connor the right meaning of that sentence

and Connor used it right this time

[Name] was so proud

he kissed Connor

such dorks

[thedarkplume]

Throwback Thursday

Dust off those browsers, friends. We’re gonna travel back in time to the stories that brought us into the fandom or the ones that have stuck with you through the years.

Share your super old faves and reblog them, showing the authors their classics are not forgotten. Leave them a love note showing them how much it means to you.

Then reblog the first story you wrote for your current fandom or even the first one you wrote for each fandom you belong to. The world is our oyster. Let’s rediscover some pearls.

I'm not going to lie. This Ask made me a little bit sad. There have been some really great writers on this site that have left us for unspecified reasons, and some for the childish bullying that seems to be a daily thing.

One of my favorite blogs was @chocolatecherubs. They were a blog that was written specifically for black female characters in the Marvel Universe, with Steve and Bucky as the central love interests, particularly during the 1940s.

However, all is not lost! There are still plenty of blogs that I follow and love and can always count on to provide the most entertainment you can achieve without picking up an actual book. One of the blogs who always delivers on this front regardless of the subject matter is the beautiful and talented @avintagekiss24 . I've been following her for a year and it has been a nonstop rollercoaster of fun, excitement, surprise, and even a little bit of heartbreak.

@avintagekiss24 has so many stories that I reread over and over again, it's nearly impossible to pick just one. But...if I did have to choose a classic in a split-second decision it would be Night Shift. This was my first time ever reading a story about Andy Barber and since then I have not stopped!

As for my own forays into fanfiction, I've written for Twilight, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Cruel Intentions, a few WIPs for We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Knives Out, and the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and that's not counting all of the stories knocking around in my head vying for attention!

Here is a VERY old Buffy the Vampire Slayer story I wrote.

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Pairing: Buffy/Angelus

Setting: 1700s, New Colonies

A/N: This story is a little different from the others I’ve written. This story is set in the days of Angelus’ life when Drusilla had just turned Spike. Bear with me if everything is not exactly up to par historically – I am not a history buff! NSFW 18+ Warnings for offensive language, subject matter, violence, blood, gore, and sexual abuse.

His features could not be termed uninteresting—there lay in them something bold and daring—but the expression on the whole anything but benevolent. There were contempt and sarcasm in the cold dark eyes, whose glance, however, was at times so piercing that no one could endure it long.

from The Mysterious Stranger (1860) – Anonymous

What is obsession? Is it the madness that consumes a man when he’s confronted with the one thing he knows he is not supposed to have? Is it the burning desire to possess the aforementioned object, ensuring that she will only think of him as he only thinks of her? Angelus paced back and forth in his chosen room of the mansion. Darla was still off reconnecting with Dracula and giving Angelus some much-needed breathing room. While she was off having her own adventures, he moved his childe and grandchilde to the American Colonies. They were in the colony named New York. Angelus loved the New Colonies. The women were not as sexually repressed, and the humans as a whole were more trusting. Since their arrival, government officials, writers, artists, scholars – everyone who held wealth and power had invited Angelus, his “sister” Drusilla and her husband William, to parties. There was nothing Angelus enjoyed more than drunk socialites.

And it was at one of these parties that he saw her. The object of his obsession. Elizabeth Anne Summers. Buffy, to those who knew her intimately. She had long, golden blonde hair, not unlike Darla’s, but hers had more of a silky texture. Her eyes were large and hazel, brimming with innocence. She had sun-kissed skin that seemed to glow underneath the moonlight.

Angelus wanted her. He wanted to bury his fangs and his cock inside her. Her scent proved that she was untried, but that would only last so long. Angelus found out everything he could about her. She was promised to the governor’s son. She lived with her parents Hank and Joyce Summers. She had a baby sister – Dawn – who caught pneumonia and died at the age of six. Her father worked as a developer for the colony and his wife owned a prominent boutique. She had two best friends, Willow Osbourne née Rosenberg and Alexander Harris, husband to the beautiful and licentious Cordelia Harris née Chase.

The first time Angelus spoke to her was at a party that was thrown by an oil barren. Angelus, as usual, found himself surrounded by three potential meals. Drusilla stood by William’s side, smiling proudly as he recited poetry. It was terrible, but the women thought it was the most beautiful thing they had ever heard.

“Do you hunt, Mr. McConroy?” one of the women – Mrs. O’Hara or something or another – said, pulling him from his thoughts.

Angelus flashed an enticing smile. “Why yes, Mrs. O’Hara. ‘Tis one of my many pleasures.”

She wet her lips and fluttered her eyes in what he was sure was meant to be attractive. “Well, in that case, you should come to my husband’s estate in the country. You two can hunt and later you could tell me more about your pleasures.”

“How can a man of sound mind resist such an enticing offer?” he said, kissing the back of her hand.

The woman continued to place unnecessary hints concerning secret rendezvous and Angelus almost lost control and snapped her neck on the spot until one of the younger women spoke up.

“There’s that Elizabeth Summers.”

Angelus’ attention immediately shifted, seeking out his dark obsession. She came in with her parents. Her large hazel eyes seemed sad, and Angelus suddenly wanted to seek out that which had caused her misery and destroy it. He wanted to be the sole source of any pain she felt. But he could not gaze upon his obsession in peace as one of the three women continued her verbal assault.

“How a strange girl like that was lucky enough to have a contract with Governor Finn’s son is baffling.”

“She is a strange one, Harmony,” Cordelia Harris vehemently agreed. “My husband says that she spends all of her time reading. Reading! Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

“Well, I hear that she wishes to become a writer! As if any respectable man would want anything written by a woman! A proper lady should spend her time learning to attend a household and concern herself with pleasing her husband.”

“Yes, well, we all know that Buffy,” she sneered the name. “Is as far from a lady as one can be. It baffles me why Alexander enjoys her company so. It’s embarrassing!” she glared as said husband made his way over to Buffy.

“I see nothing wrong with a properly educated woman, Mrs. Harris,” Angelus said, drawing their attention away from Buffy. “It would be refreshing to hear a woman contribute something to the conversation beyond how pretty the dresses are overseas.”

Cordelia Harris’ expression darkened so that if Angelus had been human, he might have been afraid. “Well,” she sniffed, highly offended. “It is upon the hour, and I believe I shall take my leave.” She stood and scowled at Angelus when he broke societal conventions and refused to stand when she did. “I bid you goodnight, Mrs. O’Hara, Harmony, Mr. McConroy.”

“Mrs. Harris,” his flourishing bow was meant and taken in all its mockery. He smirked as she huffed and stomped away. He watched her approach Buffy and Alexander, and used his enhanced hearing to listen in.

“…husband and I must be going,” she said in a clipped tone.

Buffy knew that her friend’s wife didn’t like her, but for Xander’s sake, she at least made an effort. “I am sorry that you must be leaving so soon. I hope you will feel well, Cordy.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, how many times must I remind you to call me Mrs. Harris?” she said tightly.

“Of course. I apologize.”

“Alexander.”

The dark-haired young man looked between his wife and his friend, wishing he could stay, but knowing he would never hear the last of it if he did. “Of course, dear. See you soon, Buffy.”

Her other friend, Willow, who had watched the scene from across the room, performed her usual damage control ritual. “You know I think one of these days he shall divorce her.”

“Willow!” she whispered, linking their arms. “You should not say such things.”

“Well, he should! I’m fairly certain the only reason he puts up with her is for the sex and we both know the pregnancy scare was the incentive for the marriage to start with…”

Angelus watched the two young women disappear out onto the gardens. “Ladies, if you will excuse me.” He left the woman at the table and sought out William. He didn’t have the same mental link with him as he did with Drusilla, but William could feel when his grandsire called him.

“You called?” he said, appearing moments later.

“Yes, I’m stepping out for a moment. Make sure no one sees Dru nibbling on the livestock.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s so special about this bird? I mean, she’s a cutie and all, but is she really worth our queen mother handing you your own arse?”

“What Darla doesn’t know won’t kill me.” Angelus knew William had a point. Darla was extremely jealous and possessive of him, but he was still sore around the edges where she was concerned, considering that she left him to die in a burning barn. Darla was his sire and that was a bond not easily broken, but nothing could reestablish the trust he lost for her. He glanced at Drusilla to see if she was keeping out of trouble and caught her thralling Harmony. “If you want the blonde as a party favor you should take her out of here. She’s as dumb as a post but has a pleasant peach scent to her.”

Angelus left his grandchilde to attend to Dru and followed Buffy’s scent through the large garden maze. She and her friend, Willow sat on a bench in front of a pond talking quietly.

“…says?”

“You mean when she’s not nursing a bottle? She blames me. She says even whores aren’t low enough to chase their own fathers,” she sniffled.

“Oh, Buffy, have you thought about telling Riley?”

“No, I can’t tell him, Will. If he thought for a moment that it’s gone further than a drunken fumbling, he’ll never speak to me again.”

“And right now, he’s your only way out,” Willow sighed in sympathy to her friend’s plight. “You know Oz and I will let you move in with us.”

“People will talk.”

“They’re already talking. One of New York’s most beloved sons married to a kike?”

“Willow!” Buffy admonished. “Don’t ever call yourself that.”

The redhead shrugged carelessly. “I have been called much worse. I am just telling you that Oz and I do not care what anyone else says about us.”

“I appreciate it. And if the wedding was happening later than next month I would say yes.”

“But what if he goes too far before Riley can save you?”

The unanswered question hung heavy in the air. Angelus seethed. He barely restrained himself from going back inside, grabbing Hank Summers and tearing off his worthless cock with his bare hands. It didn’t anger Angelus that the man was taking liberties with his daughter. It bothered him that his touch would not be the first she had known from a man.

“I should get back inside before Oz starts looking for me. Come with?”

“In a little while. I just want a little more time away from the noise.”

“Don’t take too long. Your parents,” she mumbled.

Angelus watched the Osbourne woman return to the party from his place in the shadows. He turned his attention back to Buffy realizing that they were finally alone. She leaned back, her hands flat on the bench and her face turned up towards the starlit sky. Her eyes were closed, and the subtle breeze disturbed the tendrils of silky tresses framing her face. Angelus had the perfect view of the golden skin of her smooth throat. His face shifted as he imagined sinking his fangs into her throat as her naked body writhed helplessly underneath his.

Buffy’s eyes suddenly snapped open. She stood and she looked around her as if sensing she was not alone. “Is someone there?” she called.

Angelus contained his excitement and returned to his human visage. “Just me,” he said, pretending as though he was simply out for a stroll through the garden’s maze. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Buffy stared at the man before her. She was certain that she had never seen him around before. He was tall, very tall. He had long dark hair that was bound behind his head. He had a wide mustache and she wondered if it was as soft as his hair looked. He had dark eyes. Eyes that were mischievous and secretive. She started to believe she was dreaming. She always thought Riley was cute in a boyish way, but this man before her with the long brown hair, his piercing dark eyes and his enticing smirk was…beautiful. His smirk seemed to widen, and Buffy realized with startling clarity that she was rather rudely staring at him.

“No, you did not frighten me, sir,” she recovered.

“You are Elizabeth Summers, correct?”

“Yes, but everyone calls me Buffy.”

He took her hand – it seemed tiny and engulfed by his – and pressed a small kiss to it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Buffy. I am Angelus McConroy.”

Recognition flashed in her large hazel eyes. “Of course, Mr. McConroy! You live in the Crawford’s old mansion. Your brother-in-law, William, is it? He ordered a gown from my mother’s boutique for your sister.”

Angelus suppressed another smirk. He had sent William on that particular mission to scout out the boutique and Buffy’s work hours, and to spread the word to the local undead community that she, her family and friends, were off limits.

“Yes, my family and I moved there a few months ago.”

Buffy fidgeted with her dress before resuming her place on the bench. “Would you…would you care to sit?” she offered timidly.

He flashed a dazzling smile and took his place beside her. “Now what is a lovely girl such as yourself doing out here all alone? It’s really not safe,” said the wolf to the rabbit.

Buffy glanced up at him and flushed as he stared down at her unblinkingly. “Oh, well, I just stepped out for a moment. Just for some air,” she shrugged.

“You don’t truly enjoy parties, do you?”

“They are…acceptable.”

“Ah, but a lass such as yourself would much rather be at home in front of the fire with a book. You prefer the silence and solitude to the noise and excitement.”

She flushed an attractive pink and looked up at him from under her lashes. “I realize that those are not exactly the qualities one looks for in a woman, but…”

“But you are far from a woman, lass. You’re still a wee child.” He watched appreciatively as her skin flushed a darker red.

“Sir, I will have you know that I am of sixteen years and will soon be a wife,” she said, not really succeeding in sounding offended.

“Yes, to Governor Finn’s lad no less. I find it difficult to see what it is the boy could have done to deserve the hand of such a fair lass.”

Her hazel eyes met his and she wore a smile befitting that of the most experienced of coquettes. “Do you tell all your ladies that, Mr. McConroy?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

She started laughing and Angelus thought it was the most enticing sound he had ever heard. “You are indeed a charmer, Mr. McConroy. If I may be so bold…?”

“You may.”

“Why is there not a Mrs. McConroy? A gentleman such as yourself should have amassed quite the number of prospects from the fairer sex.”

Angelus, seeing his opportunity, angled his body towards hers. “Perhaps it is because a man can only have ale for so long before he starts to long for a fine wine.”

He could hear her heart pounding in fear and excitement as their seemingly innocent conversation began to take a different turn. “But what if you’re not supposed to have the wine?” she breathed.

“That’s when it’s the sweetest.” His hand cupped her cheek and her eyes fluttered from the contact. “Look at me, Buff,” he commanded. “Look into my eyes.” Angelus knew he could have waited rather than jumping at the first opportunity to thrall her, but he was anxious to have her in his bed.

“You have pretty eyes.”

Angelus felt his eyebrows rise. You have pretty eyes? Angelus concentrated harder and Buffy flinched as he suddenly seemed to be scowling at her.

“What? Men can have pretty eyes,” she pouted slightly, thinking he was offended.

Angelus blinked. He surveyed her carefully, playing close attention not to let himself linger on her pouting pink lips. He didn’t understand how it was possible for her to resist his thrall. No one had ever resisted! The girl was obviously human. She smelled human. She had a heartbeat. What had gone wrong? His eyebrows knitted together as he ran through any and all explanations as to why his gift had failed him. He felt her warm hand press against his own.

“Angelus? Is something wrong?”

He recovered, wearing his signature smirk. “You think my eyes are pretty, do ye?”

Buffy fiddled with the sleeves of her dress looking anywhere but at him. “Yes, they resemble little pools of chocolate.” She felt his fingers lace through hers and looked down. She liked the way their hands fit.

“Now which one of us is the charmer here, Buff?” he watched her shiver as his fingers idly stroked hers.

“There you are!”

Buffy stood, withdrawing her hand from Angelus, completely missing his darkened expression. “Riley,” she said, her heart pounding heavily as though she’d been caught doing something terribly wicked.

“I have been searching all over for you, Bethie.”

He took her hand in his own, missing her subtle wince at the nickname she loathed. “Forgive me if I have caused distress. I only stepped out for a moment.”

“Your mother and father are looking for you. They –.” Riley stopped short when he saw movement behind Buffy. “Hello,” he said to the man who sat on the bench watching them unabashedly. “I do not believe we have met. I am Riley Finn, Elizabeth’s husband-to-be.”

“Oh, yes, the governor’s boy,” Angelus said, taking in the blue-eyed baby-faced boy with mocking eyes.

Although the sarcasm went completely over the boy’s head as he puffed out his chest and stood a little taller, Angelus smirk only grew when Buffy gave him a warning glare.

“Yes, yes, I am,” he said proudly.

“Riley, this is Mr. McConroy.”

Riley tensed slightly, something neither Angelus nor Buffy missed. “McConroy. You purchased the old Crawford Mansion.”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his eyes glinting slightly.

“Well, it was nice making your acquaintance, Mr. McConroy, but Elizabeth and I must be going.”

“Of course. Nice meeting you, Finn.” He turned his penetrating eyes to Buffy. He picked up her hand and gave her a lingering kiss that left her near breathless. “T’was a pleasure makin’ your acquaintance, Buffy.”

“Mr. McConroy,” she blushed.

Riley’s jaw clenched as he led Buffy away. But his annoyance over what he saw as a threat to his future wife was nothing compared to Angelus’ fury over Finn impeding the progress he had made.

“I do not trust that McConroy fellow,” he confided when they were of a safe distance away from him. Or so he thought. “He worries me.”

“Riley,” Buffy sighed. “Mr. McConroy is a nice man.”

“You know him well, then?”

“No. We only made acquaintance tonight.”

“Yet he already calls you Buffy.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Riley Finn, I do believe you are jealous.”

“Perhaps I am,” he admitted. “Do you find him attractive?”

Buffy blushed and lowered her eyes. “He is…agreeable. But it is you who will become my husband. Your name I will carry and your children I shall bear. Tell me once more why you are jealous?”

With a few well-executed words, Angelus could see Finn’s worries and inferiorities fade away. He leaned down and kissed her lips as carefully as if she were made of glass.

“Bethie?” he whispered, still holding her close.

“Yes?”

“If I asked you to do something, as your future husband, would you do it?”

Buffy tensed. Her small hands fisted the sides of his shirt as her mind twisted and turned over in itself. As her future husband, he could ask almost anything of her, and she was duty bound to obey. She trembled against him and swallowed the bile suddenly flooding her mouth. “Yes.”

“I wish for you to have no further contact with Mr. McConroy or any of his family.”

Buffy stepped back from him so that she could see into his eyes. “Riley, I have already told you that Mr. McConroy bears no threat to us.”

“But he does,” he argued. “Have you noticed the strange occurrences in our town?”

“Are you referring to Madeleine Archer?” Maddie Archer was two years younger than Buffy and had gone missing from her bed in the dead of night.

“Yes, as well as Rebekah Harte, Joshua Black, Edward Morton, Christine Adams, and countless others.”

“Riley, how do these unfortunate people pertain to you desiring distance between Mr. McConroy and myself?”

“They all vanished or perished inexplicably after McConroy, and his family took residence in the Crawford Mansion.”

“You are not suggesting…?” she gasped.

“There is something amiss about them. His sister is said to be touched in the mind, but there is more. She speaks in prophecies. Her husband, William, the poet, who may I say is not very good, he was seen with Rebekah Harte before she went missing. Then there is your new acquaintance. He never leaves the mansion during the day. He does not work and yet he attends every party and somehow amasses enough wealth to support his family. They have no servants or cooks. Their skin is unnaturally porcelain – must I go on?”

“Are you suggesting to me that Mr. McConroy, his sister and her husband may be…nefarious individuals?”

Riley smiled humorlessly. “Why does it frighten you to speak the word, Bethie? You once told me that what most would believe to be a monster, you see as a beast maintaining his nature.”

“I was referring to the work of Bram Stoker, Riley. Beasts exist, yes, but not of that sort, and certainly not amongst Mr. McConroy and his family.”

“You have always had faith in the most undeserving of creatures, Bethie.” He reached inside his trouser pocket and withdrew a silver cross on a chain.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I wish you to wear it whenever you leave the mansion.”

“Even in the sunlight?” she quipped.

“Even in the sunlight,” he answered, unaffected by her glibness. “All of the victims’ blood was drained through small punctures to the throat.”

Buffy paled as she gasped. “What? But you never said anything!”

“My father thought it was best that the families were not informed of this. It would lead to panic and at this time, the authorities have declared it a beast. Wear it. For me.”

“Okay,” she whispered, still struggling with the concept of the creatures she learned of as a child could truly exist beyond the pages of a novel.

Riley secured the cross around Buffy’s neck and exhaled in relief. “Now I believe we should find your parents. They can hardly fault a man for enjoying the company of his love.”

The couple left the garden arm in arm, completely oblivious to the heavy stare on their backs.

Angelus was beside himself with fury when the Finn’s and the Summers left the Hardy Mansion. He had covered his tracks and the tracks of his childe and grandchilde carefully. Yet, the Finn boy seemed to have linked all of their victims back to them. Although he tried his best to come across as noble and caring in Buffy’s eyes, the boy was far more concerned with her affections rather than her safety. The thought in itself caused a malicious smirk to befall his angelic features. They would have to be careful. Meticulous. One mistake and all would be lost. Nevertheless, Angelus would have Buffy Summers…even if he had to eviscerate every townsman to get her.

Angelus itched to relieve his fury and he knew just how to do it.

“Margaret, is it?” she was nothing. An aide in the Hardy household with the burden of a fatherless son. She was not remotely attractive, and her blood was not in the slightest appealing. But her polite smile and cautious eyes appeased him.

“Yes, sir.”

“I regret to bother you as I can see you are terribly busy, but I am afraid I require your assistance.”

“In what way, sir?” still so trusting.

“Come with me, please.”

Ah. There is the hesitation. “Very well, sir.”

He led her to a dark corner underneath the stairs hidden from the rest of the intoxicated socialites. “Ah, that’s better, isn’t it? Not complete privacy, but it should do for what I have in mind,” he said, letting his eyes drift over her, hoping to discomfort her. She predictably squirmed under his gaze, unaware that her used and aged body held no appeal for him.

“Sir, I…I should get back,” she stuttered, her heart pounding beautifully, forcing her blood to flow quicker through her arteries.

“Why not stay a while? After all, you did say you would help a fellow with his problem,” he purred, moving even closer to the frightful maid.

*“Sir, please, I should return to the party.”

*“Margaret, Margaret, there’s no hurry.”

She tried to pull away from him, hoping that someone might see. *“Mistress will be wondering…”

*“Sshh,” he cooed. “Mistress will be wondering how to get the good Reverend Chalmers into bed and will not notice the absence of canapé.” He stroked her chin for good measure, and she shuddered in spite of her fear. “Stay with me,” he urged.

Angelus could tell by her eyes that she was considering it. How could she not? A lowly maid, past her prime, receiving the attentions of the young and wealthy Mr. McConroy, a man that all women, be they married, betrothed, or divine worshippers, have attempted to lure into their beds.

*“Sir, people might talk,” she weakly protested. “I’ll be put out on the streets. My little boy would…I can’t lose this job,” she said, forgoing any thoughts she might have had about taking a chance with the beautiful Angelus McConroy.

Angelus, sensing her resolve, lost his temper. He grabbed her arms. *“Then you must keep quiet.”

*“You’re hurting me!” she said, speaking a little louder than she intended.

*“Ah! Cry out. Call for help. I’m sure Mistress will believe your behavior beyond reproach,” he sneered.

*“Please!” she gasped, wriggling in his embrace.

Angelus shook her roughly. *“Come, make a scene, huh?” he taunted. “Shall I?”

Margaret hesitated. *“No,” she whispered.

*“No, no. We’ll be as quiet as mice.”

Margaret lowered her head. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. If she closed her eyes and didn’t put up a fight, maybe it would be over soon. No one would believe her if she said their familiarity was forced.

Angelus could almost taste her defeat. His face shifted and when she looked back up at him, her fear and terror flooded his senses. *“No matter what.”

*“Sir!” she trembled, tears welling in her eyes. “My son!”

Good, he had almost forgotten. *“Oh, he’ll make a fine dessert, huh?”

He grabbed her, sinking his fangs into her throat before she could scream. He drained her quickly. She was unsatisfying and not at all fulfilling. He released her, letting her body fall carelessly to the floor. He tucked her away in the corner, knowing one of the other servants or perhaps her Mistress herself would find her. Angelus maneuvered around the intoxicated guests, following Margaret’s scent to the servant’s quarters. He found Margaret’s whelp sleeping in his bed. He was a boy of no more than seven years. His hair was curly like his mother's and a brighter shade of blonde. Margaret’s pallet lay positioned beside the boy’s bed. The boy clutched a worn brown bear that was missing its left eye. He was a beautiful child, clearly taking after his father. The boy opened his eyes and startling emerald green eyes met his own.

“Are you an angel?” he whispered.

His lips twitched as he fought the smirk that threatened to reveal itself. “An angel?”

“Mum says when it’s time an angel will come and take me to see my Da. Will you take me?”

He arranged the boy’s body in his bed and retrieved his mother, placing her on top of her pallet. From a distance, it would look as If they were merely sleeping. He returned to his mansion an hour before sunrise.

“Daddy, we saved her for you!” Drusilla called over the screams.

He strolled down to the “playroom” in the cellar. The room smelled of sex, blood, and fear. The young woman from the party, Harmony, was naked and railroad spikes had been driven through her hands and ankles, courtesy of William. Her legs and stomach were flayed, and Drusilla greedily lapped up her flowing blood.

William leaned against the wall, a pipe in his hand. “How did it go with the bird?”

Before he could answer, Harmony turned towards Angelus. Her face had been clawed, most likely by Drusilla, and her right eye hung out of its socket and lay limply against her cheek. “Mr. McConroy, help! Please help me!” she whimpered.

A cold smirk drifted on his lips as he played with her blood-soaked hair. “I could help you, Harmony, but you would have to do something for me first,” he taunted.

“Anything, anything.”

“Open your mouth.” A single tear fell from her good eye. She opened her mouth without hesitation. Angelus released his semi-hard cock and shoved it into her mouth. She choked and gagged as his hand knotted in her hair. “She resisted my thrall.”

William pushed off from his relaxed stance against the wall. “Resisted? How the bloody hell did she do that?”

“Gee, William, I have no idea. I’ll be sure to ask her next time,” he growled, shoving his entire length down Harmony’s throat.

“She’s not like the others,” Drusilla whispered. Her eyes were wide and unfocused. She was having a vision.

“What do you see, pet?”

Just as Harmony’s heart stopped beating, Angelus felt his seed spurt into her mouth. He pulled out, using her hair to clean himself off, smiling lightly as his seed and her blood dripped from her mouth.

“She was almost Called.”

“Called?”

“As in…?” Angelus had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“But the Powers…she was unworthy…innocent blood on her hands…now she is just a human.”

Angelus ran a hand through his hair, attempting to process what they had just learned. Buffy was meant to take the Calling. She was to be a Slayer, but she killed someone. The Powers deemed her unworthy and now she will never be a Slayer. But even though she didn’t have the Call, she was still equipped with the typical Slayer attributes. A mental block to resist the thrall. Possibly strength to fight against any demonic creature.

“Darla is going to kill you,” William snickered.

“Darla is too busy fucking Dracula to care what I do!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Drusilla hunched over, moaning and hugging her stomach. William’s good mood faded quickly as he and Angelus flocked to her side protectively. “What do you see, Dru?”

“Bad man…bad man…bad man…”

“What bad man? What is he doing?” Angelus questioned her as she leaned against William.

“Touching…bad touch…bad touch…wants to keep her…wants to hurt her…!” she moaned.

Angelus growled deeply, startling his childe and grandchilde. “Hank Summers is a dead man. William, at first dark, I need you to do something for me.”

[jasonfry]

Winter rolls along! No baseball! That means catching up with more classic movies everybody’s seen but me!

The Sugarland Express (1974)

This is Steven Spielberg’s first big-screen feature (1971′s Duel was made for TV), and it’s amazing to think it arrived just a year before Jaws, which would change American movies forever.

It’s impossible to watch The Sugarland Express without analyzing it in terms of Spielberg style, which is too bad, because it can be enjoyed perfectly well if you don’t know who the director is. Yes, there are some trademark long takes and inventive camerawork -- the most famous bit is a tricky 360-degree shot inside the getaway car that’s particularly impressive because it’s so easy not to notice -- but this is also a great character movie. 

Goldie Hawn’s Lou Jean is simultaneously conniving and childlike, ruthless and clueless, and Hawn brings a frantic intensity to the part. Her husband Clovis is doomed the moment Lou Jean puts her half-assed plan in motion, and William Atherton (of Die Hard fame) does a superb job with an understated role, in which Clovis’s real tragedy is how timidly he navigates the constrained possibilities of his life. They’re joined by Michael Sacks as a kidnapped state trooper, and the three make for a compelling ensemble -- people who understand each other and grasp that their circumstances could easily have been switched around by a chance here or there.  

The movie’s ambitious and thoroughly modern -- it’s a chase movie and a marital comedy and a slice of social commentary, and it switches lanes with skill and self-confidence. Maybe it doesn’t quite stick the landing -- there’s a little too much movie blood and the sun-soaked last shot feels like a stylistic departure -- but the ending is gripping even though it unfolds the only way it could, and that’s a hard trick to pull off.

Extra credit because even a relatively uninformed movie fan like me will have a blast moving both forward and backward from The Sugarland Express -- it wouldn’t exist without Bonnie & Clyde, but Raising Arizona wouldn’t exist without it, to identify just two beads on an intriguing string.

Rio Bravo (1959)

Westerns are my comfort food -- give me the right proportions of dusty streets and swinging doors and cacti against sunsets and I’ll overlook a fair number of cinematic/narrative sins. And Howard Hawks’ Rio Bravo whips up the classic ingredients with the nonchalant skill of a veteran short-order cook in a beloved diner -- a tumbleweed even rolls into one of the leads in the first reel, as if to say, “What? It’s a western!”

Rio Bravo is usually framed as a rebuke to High Noon and 3:10 to Yuma, which Hawks and John Wayne despised because those movies dared to depart from the western tropes of flinty-eyed, self-reliant sheriffs and frontier folk banding together. The film Hawks and Wayne made in response is rock-ribbed in its values, unfolds at a languorous pace, and is often mawkish. (It also jerks to a halt for back-to-back duets with Dean Martin and Ricky Nelson, while Wayne stands there and smiles.) It shouldn’t work -- and, to be clear, I don’t think it’s nearly as interesting as the movies it’s arguing with -- but it does.

For one thing, there’s immense skill brought to the storytelling and filmmaking. There’s a self-confidence behind that languor that draws you in, and while the characters are hoary stock figures, their interactions rarely if ever ring false. The actors are solid, too: Martin is a lot better than you might guess as Dude, the deputy with an alcohol problem; Nelson holds his own as a young gunslinger who doesn’t want to get involved but of course eventually does; Walter Brennan has a grand time bouncing off Martin and Wayne in their shared scenes; Angie Dickinson brings some shade and nuance to the role of a gambler’s widow trying to extricate herself from a checkered past; and the bit players are all threatening, comedic, hapless and helpful in the proportions you expect and want.

But unsurprisingly, Wayne is the secret weapon -- the story treatment for Rio Bravo didn’t bother giving his character a name, just calling him “John Wayne.” Imitations of Wayne focus on the swagger and the tough-guy talk but miss that his performances turn on the moments when his characters’ weaknesses undermine their strengths. Wayne’s Sheriff John T. Chance is gentle with Dude’s struggles, knowing well-chosen nudges are the best way to keep his troubled deputy on the right path, and he’s utterly at sea navigating his feelings for Feathers, Dickinson’s character. The Wayne-Dickinson pairing is yet another of those May-December romances that movies of the era were always foisting on actresses, but Wayne wisely leans into the problem, letting Chance be tongue-tied and awkward as the more confident Feathers steers him through uncharted emotional terrain.

Wayne became more cranky and reactionary as he aged, but he never lost the insight that strength is only interesting if paired with weakness. That dynamic sells Chance and Rio Bravo wonderfully. And hey, the Martin-Nelson duets are actually pretty good. 

Hawks and Wayne would essentially remake Rio Bravo two more times, first as El Dorado and then as Rio Lobo, and while I’ll tell you now that I don’t feel the need to see either one, jump ahead a couple of years to a late night where I think, “a western would be fun right now,” and I’ll probably wind up watching one of them. Because I bet they’ll work.

That Thing You Do! (1996)

The story of a one-hit wonder band, written and directed by Tom Hanks. The cast is terrific, particularly the luminous Liv Tyler; the title song (written by Adam Schlesinger of Fountains of Wayne) is not only good but also pitch-perfect for its era; and the giddy whoosh of the Wonders’ sudden rise to fame carries the movie along effortlessly for quite a while.

There are only two problems -- but unfortunately, they’re pretty big ones. 

First of all, the movie jumps the track completely in its last 20 minutes or so. Tyler’s big speech to her self-obsessed boyfriend feels completely out of character; Tom Everett Scott’s drummer hangs around the most accommodating studio in music history and has a miraculous chance meeting with the jazz musician he idolizes; the hotel’s magical concierge uses the same gag twice and then breaks the fourth wall ... and all of this happens in such rapid succession that I thought I’d hit my head. The movie’s humming along pleasantly enough and then WHAM! everything stops making sense and it never regains its footing.

Second, after a couple of hours it’s already fading from memory, leaving behind the title song, the fun of life on the road and Tyler. I think that’s because while That Thing You Do! is invariably pleasant, it’s also utterly bloodless. 

Nothing is played for any stakes. Giovanni Ribsi breaks his arm and loses his spot in the band to Scott, but never seems bothered that he missed out on his friends’ rocket ride. The Wonders’ first manager excuses himself with nary a peep once Hanks arrives to take over. The veteran bands on tour with the Wonders brush the newcomers off at first, but pretty soon they’re all friends. The Wonders’ bassist is infatuated with a Black singer, which would have raised eyebrows in 1964, but the relationship barely makes a ripple. Despite ample warnings that it’s coming, the conflict in the band is mild at worst. Even the love triangle involving Tyler is resolved simply and with no particular fuss -- the Wonders’ lead singer breaks up with her, the drummer takes up with her, and all is well. 

The movie presents an attractive surface -- despite all of the above, when I heard there was an extended cut I thought, “I’d hang around with these characters for 40 more minutes” -- but there’s absolutely nothing underneath it. Given the talent on both sides of the camera and the obvious care with which it was made, that’s a shame.

[hmel78]

In conversation with Anthony Phillips ...

1967 – the World watched on as San Francisco experienced it’s ‘Summer Of Love’, and listened on as music reached the dizzy heights of psychedelic rock; Classical music seemed to be drowned out by the screams accompanying  The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who … Meanwhile, at Charterhouse school - one of Great Britain’s finest ‘public’ educational establishments in the idyllic English county of Surrey - a handful of budding young musicians, were busily trying to prove to their masters that banning guitar practice as a punishment for missed homework, would not stop the musical revolution that had begun to happen within it’s own splendid Gothic walls! Unsurprisingly, there is a noteable list of ‘Old Carthusians’ – including the composer Ralph Vaughan Williams, amongst numerous artists, actors, poets , sportsmen, TV personalities, journalists, politicians, and Bishops! – but we doubt that they could ever have imagined that they would also nurture, and eventually include in that list, the founder members of a band called … ‘Genesis’. Perhaps you have heard of them?

Peter Gabriel, Michael Rutherford, Tony Banks, Christopher Stewart, and … Anthony Phillips. Despite his departure from the band in 1970, Ant has never strayed from his musical path.   His solo discography boasts in excess of 30 albums; in addition to that he enjoys an incredibly busy, and successful career as a TV and ‘library’ composer; and has been involved with a number of musical projects including collaborations with fellow ‘Genesis’ band mates Mike Rutherford, Phil Collins, and Peter Gabriel -  but it hasn’t all been plain sailing …   Helen Robinson, caught up with him to find out more : HR - So where did your musical journey begin?

AP - I was pretty much self taught at school. I studied music later, but in the beginning I was self taught. I briefly had guitar lessons from a chap who was very impressive. My mum used to buy me the Beatles sheet music, and kindly send it down to me at ‘Charterhouse’ – and this chap  would just look at them and read from the piano score, with guitar ‘shapes’ written in fret numbers as opposed to tablature – and he would play the chords and the melody on this beautiful classical guitar. I just wanted to be able to strum the chords to the songs and sing along really, and I think at the time he was a bit disappointed that I wasn’t prepared to go the classical route … Anyway I didn’t.   Then formed a band at school – doing Rolling Stones,  Beatles, Kinks, Animals, The Shadows  - Hank was a big influence - and that took me up to starting to write my own stuff; A lot of it with Mike Rutherford. I met Mike when I was 13 – the other Genesis guys were quite a bit older so we didn’t get together with them for a couple of years. The school band – The Anon - was people more my age. I was the babe of Genesis!

HR - Indeed – and with that in mind, how much input did they allow you to have on the debut album – “From Genesis To Revelation”?

AP - The first album I didn’t do an enormous amount of writing – it was very much dominated by Peter Gabriel and Tony Banks.   The second album – “Trespass” -  was much more of a ‘group’ album. In fact, myself and Mike were responsible for the basis of 3 or 4 of the tracks on “Trespass”. “Visions of Angels” was my piano track originally. Songs like “Looking For Someone” were Peter Gabriel songs that the rest of us developed the instrumentals around. I had a reasonable amount of stuff on “Genesis To Revelation”, but Mike had very little – we came much more into play on ‘Trespass’.

HR - You’d left the band by the time their 3rd album was released. Did they take any of your ideas forward into “Nursery Cryme”? AP - Actually, I was responsible for mucking about with a few ideas that ended up on the album, way before I left   - Mike had this weird tuning of F# which we played about on.  That song became “The Musical Box” later – so, yes, a couple of ideas made it.

HR - Do you ever listen back to the first two albums, and hear things that you would change?

AP - I don’t often listen, no - and I haven’t listened to them enough to have any really strong thoughts. I think if you don’t listen for a while then it’s quite pleasant. If you have a period away from these things, you tend to forget what you thought was wrong,  so then it’s not so bad – but I must say that when you listen repeatedly, then you start to think “oh dear”, I could have done that differently. We all felt that the business of putting strings on “Genesis To Revelation”  - which necessitated reducing the backing track to mono -was a bit of a disaster.   Whilst our playing wasn’t the best, the album had a rough, raw power to it which, that process of adding these high wheeling strings to, made it lose something, and anodyne, perhaps. I know that our producer was trying to give it a more commercial edge, which I understand, but I don’t think it really came off -  and it was at some cost too!

HR - Would you re-record or re-mix any of it again now, in your own way?

AP - No I don’t think so.  I think it is of its time really.   The other thing of course is that it’s physically impossible now.   That reduction process, means that things were erased, so we can’t get back to the original stages even if we wanted to. That’s all changed now, mercifully, with computers . You can get back to any stage these days – providing you remember to save it!

HR – Ah, yes!  The wonders of modern technology.  And … NOT saving things! [laughs]

AP - Yes – we’ve all done it!!!  It’s all so easily done. We take too much for granted with technology. You can become over reliant on it, and lazy! I do fall into that trap myself sometimes actually – musically. I don’t think enough about original sounds I just tend to buy virtual instruments. T hey are wonderful, but if you think back to albums like  [The Beach Boys], “Pet Sounds” and [The Beatles] “Sgt Pepper”, those sounds were created, they weren’t just there at the push of a button!

HR - I know you’re quite experimental with your solo work … Once you’d left Genesis , how easy was it to move into a more classical sound with your compositions?

AP - I found it difficult! I could play by ear, but learning to read music at the age of 18 was incredibly hard to grasp. It was a different discipline of course, of not looking at the guitar or the piano, whilst reading music. My motivation in doing it, was because I wanted the ability to orchestrate ; Not having had that set of skills in Genesis , we couldn’t really have any input into the orchestral approach because we simply didn’t really understand it. Tony Banks did more than the rest of us, although he wasn’t orchestrally trained, but he could read music. So I wanted the power to orchestrate. It wasn’t simply about being able to read music, or being able to play piano pieces – It was definitely to understand notation, so that I could write orchestral pieces. I had a ‘Road to Damascus’, if you like,  after I left Genesis, and listened to all sorts of composers. “The Karelia Suite”, by Sibelius, was my epiphany. I suddenly thought “this doesn’t sound like classical music!”. I must have listened to the wrong things, or maybe my ears weren’t ready to listen as a child, so I had a lot of catching up to do. There was a huge ‘pop’ / ‘Classical’ divide as I was growing up in the 60s – it was rancorous between the establishment and the young tear-aways, and hippies.   It was a wonderful voyage of discovery though, but frustrating at the same time –  technically -  I loved doing Bach ‘Chorales’ and things like that, but some of the exercises I had to do, I found quite dull.

HR - Having honed your skills then,  did you find that it made a difference to the music that you wanted to write? Did you find yourself wanting to bridge the gap between pop and classical – through a ‘progressive’ angle?

AP - Hmmm, Bridge the gap is interesting. It didn’t make a great deal of difference to me in terms of the progressive wing of my writing – I think I would have grown into that anyway.

With Genesis - There were some moments which were quasi classical, but I don’t think they bridged the gap really, no. Tony Banks was very familiar with the classical repertoire, so you could argue that his chord sequences were classically influenced. What studying  did for me, was give me the ability to do - with the more markedly classical wing of things (although you may argue that it’s a fine line to distinguish which bits are prog, and which are classical!) –  was cope with them better.

On “The Geese And The Ghost” for instance, having studied orchestration, and knowing how to write the parts, I didn’t have to get an arranger in. I could think for myself and make my own judgments on which instrument to add where. Plus – arrangers inevitably, like anyone else, tend to have their own styles which then reflect on the piece, which might be good, but it might not be necessarily what you want. So it really did help me in that respect.

HR - Genesis certainly didn’t carry any of that vibe forward, into their commercial phase …

AP - No! Well, the post Gabriel group gradually became more and more commercial didn’t they. Phil Collins and Peter Gabriel were quite different animals really - Obviously Peter did some successful commercial things afterwards. To be fair to them [Genesis], it would have been very difficult to carry on that way – especially post punk, and disco eras. There was almost a unilateral, multilateral, Palace revolution, that everyone had to start doing that! It became very unfashionable to be ‘prog’ and have such complicated long and drawn out pieces of music.

My timing was peccable -  I’m not sure there is such a word, but I like it anyway! - coming back into the business, because I walked straight into the teeth of punk! Whilst I had nothing against it, in the sense that if I had been 10 years younger I would have been doing the same thing –what I did object to, was being asked to go into reverse gear, and start doing simple pop stuff, because I’d out grown it.

So I think it actually, for the purposes of the market, became very difficult for groups to stay true to their former selves and continue to produce classically based music. I don’t think it was a conscious direction on behalf of a lot of groups to start to simplify their music, they just were not given much choice.   It didn’t do England a great deal of credit the way that everyone cashed in on that - there was so much clichéd nonsense around and people were saying “this music hasn’t got any balls!”. In a lot of European countries and the States, different styles were able to co-exist much better, than here in the UK. It was the fault of the record companies rather than a lot of the punk musicians really - they were just happy doing their own thing, but there was a lot of unpleasantness at that time. There were a lot of people who were heroes one day, and then being knifed in the back the day after by the people who had been adulating them! Which wasn’t anything to be terribly proud about …

HR - Not at all! But, something to be proud about is this lovely re-issue of your debut solo album “The Geese And The Ghost”!

AP - Yes!  Absolutely! It’s just come out again, and in surround sound too, which is the first time I have had a surround sound album, and they have done a fantastic job with it! Particularly the instrumentals – it really does make a difference to have that experience of surround sound. And they’re releasing limited editions on Vinyl too, which is fabulous because that is when the artwork really comes into it’s own. Vinyl seems to be having a bit of a revival, which is great! MP3s are OK, but the sound is pretty impoverished really one you’ve narrowed the bandwidth of the sound. It sounds like a different album really, with that treatment! HR - When you started work on “The Geese And The Ghost” originally - Did you write it from a fresh perspective or was it something that you had brought forward from Genesis?

AP - It was actually written from a period as far back as 1969 / 1970. Things that Mike [Rutherford] and I had played around with then. There were some additions and refinements made between 1973 / 1974. Recording began in 1974, although the main body of it was done in 1975 – which is actually 40 years ago, isn’t that terrible?! And then, because they were now unfashionable times, we really struggled to get it released - so it didn’t come out until early 1977, by which time some of that material was over 7 years old!

HR - When you were selecting musicians to work with, what influenced your decision to ask Phil Collins and not Peter Gabriel?

AP - Well, Mike and I wrote together, and Peter and Tony [Banks] wrote together -  when we came together as a group, that modified a little, but that initial pairing pretty much stayed the same way. So, because Mike and I had all this unreleased music – which was frustrating –at the earliest opportunity ; at a time where solo albums looked like a possibility - we wanted to use this material. We had done a single with Phil in 1973 which ironically was written about the previous Genesis drummer, Jonathan Silver, who was on the first album.  I had written this with Mike – a very uncharacteristic kid of loose country song called “The Silver Song” and Phil came down and sang the demo and did such a great job of it. You see, Peter was married, so whenever we had any time off - he went home to spend it with Jill ; whereas Phil was foot loose and fancy free and had tons of energy. The single never got released for various reasons, but when it came to “The Geese And The Ghost” he was the obvious choice because the three of us had worked together before. HR - I’m glad you mentioned Jonathan Silver there –  with regards to him, and John Mayhew – were they just hired guns for the early Genesis albums or did they have creative input?

AP - No, they weren’t hired guns as such, but by the same token they didn’t have a huge input, but we did group compositions on all the tracks on those first 2 albums –  so whilst they weren’t writing huge swaythes of chord sequences, they were putting in little bits here and there. Jon Silver was full of energy and ideas about arranging and how things were connected. HR - We never really get to know the dynamics of the early stuff, which is why I was curious. It has always seemed to me, that Phil Collins became Genesis … or is that an unfair judgment?

AP - Well he had the big commercial success and I don’t think it would have been easy to keep him unless he had the lion share of the writing credits, although I think they’ve shared the credits pretty well … I think it’s sad to see him fall so far from all of that these days, with the press in particular, but he was colossally successful, and I think the group would have been looking the gift horse in the mouth if they hadn’t run with Phil.

The media can be so cruel. I remember a duel review of “The Geese And The Ghost” being handed to me from the states. One called it a “mellow rock classic”, the other said it was “music to wash dishes to” … and sadly you seem only to remember the bad ones!

And do you know, that it was the album that very nearly never came out?!! It sat on a shelf whilst punk roared away, and I’d given up on it to be honest. It was 15 months between finishing it and it being picked up to be released.   For the first 3 or 4 months I was quite hopeful;  by new year  1976 I was beginning to lose hope, and by the summer I was definitely starting to think about other things, and applying to go to music college full time.  

It was a pretty soul destroying time – I’d spent a lot of time and energy on it; a lot of angst , and thought, apart from hard work, had gone into it … And then right at the 11th hour, while I was going for auditions to music college for the following year  - suddenly it was picked up by an American record company. It was never actually released on a formal English record company label - it was released by the Genesis management company with whom I was with at the time – ‘Hit And Run’ – so like I say it’s the album that nearly never was!

HR - If it hadn’t been picked up then, do you think you’d have given it another shot down the line?

AP - No … I don’t actually. I think I would have gone to music college, and ...   Good point! What would I have done at the end of it?   I think I would have carried on composing, definitely, but I’m not quite sure where I would have come out at the other end, because the progressive scene had long gone, when I finished college in 1979– [laughs] Yes - in a parallel world what would I have done?   I have absolutely no idea! I would probably have ended up as a music teacher.

HR - Did you teach, at some point?

AP - Yes … yes I did funnily enough. Whilst I was studying, I taught classical guitar - which helped me a lot. I had always played acoustic guitar, but didn’t play proper finger style - my right hand was quite basic, so I studied classical guitar as well as piano when I left Genesis, and teaching then helped me to pass the Classical Guitar teachers exams (as opposed to the performers diploma). I taught at a couple of different schools. One was Pepper Harrow ; which was like a progressive borstal for kids who were very bright, but who’d fallen foul of authority - not so badly that had to be interned, as it were.   A great number of them had come from some pretty horrific backgrounds, but a number of them have gone on to do great things. Some of them were brilliant musicians!   I remember wondering what I was letting myself in for initially, but it’s something that I look back on with a great deal of affection. They weren’t just guitar lessons – they were much more -  the music was a vital part of these guys rehabilitation.

HR - Sounds like you’d have made a fantastic teacher, had all else failed! Given that “The Geese And The Ghost” almost didn’t happen – did that fill you with confidence to carry on to do the next album straight away, or had it discouraged you a little?

AP - Oh I’ve had more than my fair share of discouragement over the years! The album that came directly afterwards was “Wise After The Event” and I was immediately told that it had to be an album of songs – the writing was on the wall for these straggly instrumental albums -  and it was time to crank up the electric guitar into a heavier rock genre, or don’t bother turning up, kind of thing.

“Sides” was originally going to be called “Balls”, which was cocking-a-snook at people for saying that my music didn’t have enough balls! At the time it seemed to me to be so ludicrous to have this blanket approach across all music  - so that’s why we had the cover with the table football table on it - But the powers that be, over-ruled “Balls” and we had to change it to “Sides” ; because it did have one side that was more overtly commercial than the other, which is a little more instrumental.

I was lucky at that point, because the “Private Parts and Pieces” idea just came out of the blue really. I had been recording and stockpiling quite a lot throughout the year when nothing was happening with “The Geese And The Ghost”, and I asked if it might be possible, as a foil to this more rock orientated stuff, to be able to release an album of piano pieces, guitar pieces – sort of home recordings, which made up in their atmosphere and mood, what they lacked in technical perfection - and they said yes!  

The first X of “Sides” was released as “Private Parts And Pieces” - as a freebie.   It wasn’t actually “Private Parts and Pieces I” because it was a one off, but that numbering thing became sort of a generic term for my albums which were more homespun and simple – you know, small scale, as opposed to the more magnum opuses.

Not that I was able to do a Magnum Opus for quite a while! There was the “Invisible Men” album, which had a certain amount of record company backing, but that was again released around the time of the ‘New Romantics’ – more bad timing! I’d just bought my first house, and was under huge financial pressure with about 18 lodgers to pay the mortgage!   So there was big pressure on to have hit singles and get paid, and so I didn’t do another full scale album for about another 6 years. I was lucky to still have this  ‘outlet’, with the small scale releases, to continue to get some music out there during the 80s  - when the climate was very much against the more classical stuff -  at least I did continue to get piano, guitar, synth - slightly more imaginative stuff - out there, but all very much on a small scale.

Thinking about it, it was actually a full 7 years gap before I had the opportunity to do another large scale album at the end of the 80s. It was a frustrating time that too,  I can tell you. I had rather a chequered career for a while. I was doing a lot of songwriting, and aiming it at other artists. We would keep getting close, but then, the management would lose the artist, or the album was canned. They weren’t collaborations or anything, but we had some placements in the works for Sheena Easton, Roger Daltry and people like that, but they never worked out. We had a song covered by Bucks Fizz – who promptly had a coach crash! So I had a run of bad luck with that really. It was an interesting time –  I was trying allsorts of different things whilst my own music wasn’t making much money, and whilst trying to pay for the new house. It didn’t quite come to being a cat burglar, or an assassin, but I did give it some serious thought!

HR - Your celebrity friends could have hired you to assassinate the music press …

AP - [laughs] Yes …

HR - Is there anyone in particular, that you would like to collaborate with? AP - I thought you were going to say Assassinate! I don’t know these days … about collaborations … Mike and I were always a good team but we have gone in different directions now.   I’m not sure that he’s interested in doing complicated instrumental stuff any longer.   He did ask me if I wanted to be involved with the Mike and Mechanics albums, but I knew that I couldn’t see the whole project through with the touring and everything, which is what he needed.   And it’s not necessarily my bag if I’m honest, although I very much respect what he’s achieved. I think maybe we’ve gone too far down different roads now to make anything work. Steve Hackett and I have talked about writing together a few times, but it’s always risky when someone is your friend. Working relationships do change things, and I’m not sure I’d want to risk my friendship with Steve!

With my TV library music, I do collaborate with quite a lot of people then anyway, so I’m not one of these musicians who doesn’t want to work with anybody else.

HR - When are you at your happiest then?  When you’re working on solo stuff and you’re completely in control of it (and I’m not insinuating that you’re a control freak!)  …

AP - Ha, NO! Actually, a great friend of mine calls my studio the spaceship! And I’m completely happy in there when I’m just mucking about with all the wonderful synth sounds, creating tapestries of colour with sound – Love it!

And also playing guitar, which increasingly seems to happen late at night in front of the TV. Just picking up a guitar – 12 String or Classical – when these ideas enter my head at absurd times of the day. On the recordings you can invariably hear Alan Hansen and Match Of The Day commentary in the background! And I do actually present demos to my library producer, with TV programmes going on in the background.

HR - What  sort of boundaries are in place with your Library writing? Can you remain true to your ‘album’ style, or are you tied  to a  brief?

AP - I have a lot more freedom these days to create some varied pieces – guitar, synth – it’s very varied, and that’s what I love about it, but it’s hugely competitive, and the recession spawned a lot of ‘under-cutting’ -  the market is flooded, and the rates of pay have dropped! I feel very fortunate to have done well at a time when it was less competitive, and to have continued to do it. It’s incumbent on me to keep writing as much as possible -  I can’t afford to take my foot off the peddle. So when things come up, I don’t ever really have a blank page because of the stockpile of guitar, piano , synth, and orchestral library pieces already down – I have all of this material ready to go, rather than start from scratch. Some of them are slightly rough and would need to be redone, but the mood is there, and if someone came to me tomorrow asking for such and such, I would hope that I have something that would suit. Unless they asked for a bagpipe concerto. I haven’t got one of those. It’s unlikely to happen, but you never know …

HR - So when we end this conversation, you’re going to go and write one …

AP - [laughs]They’re not a pretty sound when people turn them off you know! What they don’t tell you is that when they’re warming up and cooling down they sound like a sick cow! It is a racket! We had a funny incident on the road with Genesis actually. Peter Gabriel was a little bit accident prone, and slightly absent minded on stage, and used to play the accordion in Stagnation, a bit – in quite an unconventional way, not like jolly French stuff with the onions and the beret - but he would put it down during a very quiet section and if he didn’t put it down properly, it would make this kind of squealing noise going off into the distance, and suddenly we would sound like a John Cage outfit! People would look up completely startled! Another thing he would do – he was a good flute player but struggled with an A flat in “The Knife” which was our closing song – and Tony Banks had to remind him before we went on, that you had to tweek the flute to tune it by a semi-tone. Occasionally Tony would forget to tell him, and Peter wouldn’t remember;  The lights would dim, and we’d be ready for this lovely moody bit, and BANG! He would come in a semi tone out!  That was pretty tense I can tell you! I love all of those instruments …

HR - What’s your favorite instrument?

AP - Ooooh Tricky. I think pushed to answer that, I’d have to say 12 string guitar 1st, followed very closely by piano, Classical guitar 3rd, and underwater sousaphone 4th …

HR - And, may I say you play all 4 brilliantly!

AP - Aww thanks …

HR - I’ll look forward to your underwater sousaphone symphony at some point, amidst the forthcoming re-releases! Were you looking at reworking your back catalog, or was it something that you were approached to do?

AP - They approached me!  [Cherry Red / Esoteric Records]. Not to put too finer point on it but I make the majority of my living from my TV music, and the album work has always been a very nice foil to that, but it’s not been my bread and butter, as it were. I’m probably one of the only artists who has ever said to a record company – “are you really sure you want to do this?” And they did, so I was a bit surprised really! I gathered they were in the business of picking up back catalogs– and I hate the world ‘cult’ – but of people who have ‘cult’ followings, and it felt like entirely the right thing to do. It feels a safe place to be, and with a decent company who have their act together; after having had so many years of uncertainty with this stuff.

HR - How much influence did you have over the way that the 2014 anthology “Harvest Of The Heart”, was put together?

AP - Not a lot actually, but entirely by choice. I wrote a little bit for the blurb on the boxset, but as far as choosing what songs to include – I couldn’t make the decision. It was too difficult – I mean, I dither anyway, at the best of times!  And I’m not in any way trying to imply with arrogance that this is all so wonderful, but it was just too hard for me to decide. I’m not a good judge of what other people would have wanted, and to be frank I don’t like listening to a lot of it anyway, once I have done it, otherwise I start to pick it all apart and convince myself that I could have done better … So I was very happy to leave it up to Jonathan Dann, who runs my website ; and Mark Powell (Boss of Cherry Red), who went through all of it. He deserves a medal for that!

HR - I know it’s unfair to ask an artist what their favourite piece of their own music is, but – do you have one?

AP - The albums I’m most proud of , would be “The Geese And The Ghost”, and an album called “Slow Dance” ; which was the first album that I did when I came back after that 7 year hiatus in the wilderness, as it were …

HR - Was that [Slow Dance] released under your own steam outside of record label jurisdiction?

AP - It was actually! I did that off my own bat, and once again ended up having a bad time of it! We’d done an album called “Tarka”, and there was a bit of an upturn in the 80s with the ‘new age’ boom. I’d been doing what was effectively ‘new age’ for a while, but suddenly people realised that, after about 5 years! So I borrowed some money from my management company to crank up my gear, in order to enable me to do a larger scale record. This was in lieu of a small advance from the record company, who then went bust! So the rights to my songs were impounded, under US laws, and my catalogs were frozen (as assets) in the states for a number of years and I couldn’t get them back -  so it was a pretty chaotic period in terms of America, but also I had to finish what I had started here! So I pressed on with this album, very much in debt, because I’d bought the gear, but then hadn’t got the advance to pay it off! Looking back I’m not sure how I kept going really because the record was very complicated … But I did have an ulterior motive which was to try and secure a publishing deal with the then’ Virgin Publishing’ under Richard Branson. I don’t to this day think he realises what he let go of when he sold it on to EMI – it was such a wonderful company to be a part of. Ultimately, I got a deal, which got me out of the mire;  I finished what became “Slow Dance” and then Virgin came in and released ALL of my albums onto CD for the first time, so I was very fortunate then. I owed a lot to that record in the end. But it was a real blood, sweat, and tears album, and it wasn’t just mentally painful to listen to afterwards – it was literally physically painful too ; I would writhe around and cringe listening to it because I spent too long on it, and it sounded awful to me. It tried to do too much. It’s quite filmic, and unabashedly lyrical - It’s very orchestral at times and some of it is artificial; the sounds at that stage weren’t particularly brilliant and in hindsight it would have benefitted from more real orchestra. I think I could listen to it now … There is a two year rule – don’t listen for something you did for two years, and you’ll forget what was wrong with it!

HR - Would you re-record it, now?

AP - Well – it’s one of the things that will come up for discussion, funnily enough,  because we are planning to release some more in surround sound, but it has to be practical to do because it’s a very expensive process, and Cherry Red are very fair, but they know we possibly won’t sell a million copies. I would like to do “Slow Dance” yes. I think any of the orchestral albums would really benefit from being in Surround Sound. The bigger it is, the more there is going on, and the more you can throw around the room. The re-release schedule is a bit torturous actually. Up next is “Private Parts and Pieces” with a bonus CD of material from the time, and  … I don’t want to give too much else away really, but we will be doing more … maybe “Tarka”, eventually.

HR - Would you like to get any of your compositions to a point where an orchestra could perform it live? AP - Oh You bet! I’d love it!! There was a performance of “Tarka” in Australia, but it was with a scratch orchestra, so a rather mixed affair. It’s quite hard [Tarka] although it’s not an incredibly difficult score, but it needs some very good players to do it justice. These things are just so incredibly expensive to put together though, aren’t they?

HR - Yes, they are! Do you ever perform?

AP - I don’t … no. My experience with Genesis made me very tentative about performing, but to be honest - the thing that I enjoy most is composing. I’m a terrible practicer! The process of playing something over and over again, just bores me to tears!

HR - How about conducting then? AP - Gosh no, I’m not a good enough conductor – I did study it for a while, briefly, but I’d be much better on a bus! I know the moves, and the beats, but it’s that business of making the left hand totally independent of what’s going on with the right hand – that’s really difficult.  It’s an extraordinary art! And when I go to see an orchestra, the conductor always seems to be so far ahead, that I can’t ever put it together!! When I was first studying I used to get the orchestra seats behind the Albert Hall proms, which are  the ones behind the Orchestra where you’re looking directly at the conductor – and some of the conductors seemed to be so far ahead of the orchestra, that we used to joke that the conductor would be in the dressing room toweling down, whilst the orchestra were still finishing off! I don’t understand it!! It’s one thing that I do regret in life actually – I would have loved to have been in the middle of a big phat orchestra when something like the  “Rites Of Spring” [Stravinsky]  or “The Planets” [Holst] is being played.  That must be amazing! Even to just play the triangle or something!  I’d love to do that …

HR - There’s always time!  What about your life outside of music? Do you ever divert from your musical routes?

AP - [laughs] It would seem not to the untrained eye eh? I have a lot of friends and probably spend too much time socialising, and eating out, so I burn the candle at both ends too often. I spend a lot of time with my nieces and nephews, and God-children – I don’t have kids of my own but keeping up with all of them makes life pretty full! It is a difficult balance to keep because I really can’t afford to fall behind with work stuff and that involves an endless amount of mind boggling admin with the album career, and for composing for the library - I have to keep up with all the new technology in the studio, and the new sounds – endless changes! I love sports ; all sorts of sports … I’m a big film man  - love films. Probably my favourite music is in film scores these days. My big musical heroes are film composers – amongst many, my favourites are  Ennio Morricone : particularly ”Cinema Paradiso” and the wonderful ”Gabriel’s Oboe” from ’The Mission; John Williams, ”Schindlers List”; George Fenton , ”Shadowlands”; Thomas Newman ,  ”Shawshank Redemption”; Hans Zimmer,  James Newton Howard,  Alan Silvestri and many others … so, yes! How do I actually find time to work? That is the question ...  Not too long after we’d had this chat, Ant got the opportunity to work on a re-release of “Slow Dance” ; here’s the verdict ...  HR : So the ultimate question is, forced to listen to it again, have you grown fonder of Slow Dance during the re-mastering, for this re-release?AP :  My own view in general, which I appreciate may be very different to that of other musicians, is that when you come back to an album not having heard it for ages, it has novelty value and you think ‘that’s not bad at all’….! That’s why i prescribe the ‘two year rule’. Don’t listen to a piece, album, whatever, for a while and you will forget what it was that you are aspiring to that made you feel dissatisfied with its original outcome !Alas, repeated listens gradually bring back the issues that worried you at the time ! And the more time spent on an album (in my case Slow Dance, Geese were particular long campaigns) the worse it is. QBG and I flew through PP3 in the lovely summer of 1981 and it all remained fresh and therefore untarnished in one’s memory. This naturally makes us completely unobjective when it comes to judging our work ! Slow Dance was such a painstaking haul that when I finished it I found it excruciating to listen to.You have a mystical image of how a piece should sound and capturing this remains tantalisingly elusive !   Perhaps this very frustration is what drives you on to try and do better …?So yes, at first pleasantly surprised, with a few reservation, then gradually I began to feel ‘could have done that better - in many instances !But there are sections that I am still quite proud of and I know it is a piece that has been a moving experience for number of people……. HR : When last we spoke, You were enjoying the opportunity to take your recordings into the surround sound arena - has this one surpassed your expectations?AP : The Surround was a tough one : the toughest of all the re-releases thus far….Perhaps not harmonically but certainly in terms of the arrangement, the album was in parts very intricate and both the balance and flow hung by a thread. Any slight change and the wheels would come off. And they did ! It presented an almost insurmountable challenge to Simon Heyworth and Andy Miles, as there were effects on outboard gear (now either absent or defunct !) that weren’t recorded to tape and therefore had to be somehow ‘reconstructed’.  On the other hand instrumental albums such as this and particularly 1984 ( a feast for the guys with all the weird, tricky sounds lending themselves well to sonic spatial manipulation !) do benefit from  the size and ambience that 5.1 affords. So my considered view is that the more ambient, floaty parts benefit greatly whilst other sections slightly less so….But what does the musician / composer’s view count…..? It is only the audience’s opinions that ultimately counts ! I am happy that we try to give anyone repurchasing these albums enough extra material to make it feel worth it !

[callunavulgari]

TOP 25 FICS OF 2019

1. these roads will take you into your own country by @notbecauseofvictories | American Gods | Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney | WIP | 33k

Here’s a joke for you: a Muslim, a zombie, and a leprechaun walk into a bar in Misery, Indiana. No one stares, because no one in the puckered, shitty asshole of Misery, Indiana gives a fuck. The Colts are playing.

Heather Says: So. It’s funny that another of @notbecauseofvictories‘s stories is at the top of my list again this year. Keep in mind this list is sorted by when the fic was read rather than favorites (because that would get real complicated real quick). Clearly there must be something about January. There’s just something about the writing that is easy to slip into, be it a Star Wars fic or a Labyrinth fic or even a fic about Johnny and the Devil. This was lovely and I can’t wait until it’s finished.

2. eighteen wheels on an uphill climb by @honkforhankcon | Detroit: Become Human | Hank/Connor | 91k

Hank is going to die. He’s going to die right here in Kentucky, 53 years old, halfway to broke, and tragically sober. Survived only by a nine-year-old St. Bernard and the 31-year-old twink who delivered the fatal blow.

Heather Says: I don’t think that this is the first DBH fic that I sought out after beating the game, but it is the first that I loved enough to make it to this list. I didn’t think that I would go for a modern au for this fandom, certainly not a modern au wihere Hank is a truck driver and Connor is a sex worker (albeit briefly?) but here I am.

3. Fuck pride (pride only hurts, it never helps) by ImogenGotDrunk | Detroit: Become Human | RK900/Gavin Reed | 41k

After the android uprising, Connor becomes a permanent fixture in the DPD. That’s fine. Gavin can accept that. The dipshit’s more human than he used to be, and a decent detective to boot. Gavin can deal with him being around. What Gavin cannot deal with is Connor’s replica; two inches taller, blue-eyed, and with a mouth that Gavin doesn’t know whether to punch or take between his teeth. The RK900 model has been assigned as his partner for the foreseeable future.

Heather Says: I also never thought that I’d like a fic with Gavin in it. But I got curious about all the Reed900, and well, this fic really won me over. The writing is fantastic, and it softens Gavin while still keeping him believable. Also, well, I like the enemies to lovers thing.

4. Almost Cool by @blacktofade | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 30k

While filming the Yuma Territorial Prison episode, Shane gets bitten by what he thinks is a bat. Spoiler alert: it's not.

Heather Says: This is actually the first thing that I read for this fandom. In fact, this is the fic that got me into Buzzfeed Unsolved in the first place. I’d seen a lot of art and gifs and fics pass my way, but I was only ever slightly interested in what I saw until this fic came through my inbox and piqued my curiosity. 

5. Pride by @astolat | Game of Thrones | Jaime/Brienne/Cersei | 22k

Jaime didn’t understand why Cersei suddenly insisted on trimming his hair and shaving his beard, but he also didn’t care to fight her on it, even though he’d just as soon have kept the beard: it was bitterly cold in the small tower room with its arrow-slits. 

Heather Says: Wowza. This fic was intense. I’ve always loved Jaime and Brienne. I’ve loved them since the second book, which was read at least a few years before I started loving them in the show. Adding Cersei to their dynamic would have probably been almost impossible to pull off if it was anyone else, but @astolat lives to surpass my expectations.

6. Skin and Scales by Ernmark | The Penumbra Podcast | Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla | 18k

The man glares, and this time, Damien is certain it isn’t a trick of the light: those eyes are violet as amethyst. He wears disdain like a second skin–- or, perhaps, like the scales that he is missing. “Lord Arum?”

Heather Says: I was one of those people who skipped through all of the Second Citadel episodes during my first listen through of Penumbra. The stories were good, but the pull of Juno was too great. A couple months after I finished, I went back and listened to everything I didn’t. And let me tell you. Lizard monster. Honorable knight. Bookish girlfriend. Poly. It hit every single button I had and then some. This fic really hit the spot when I ran out of story.

7. someone you like by caela | She-Ra | Adora/Catra | 5k

catwithabat u think ur so hipster but u just look like a lesbian 27m she_ra @catwithabat bc… i’m a lesbian. lmao 5m

Heather Says: Noooot usually a big fan of high school fics. Namely because I’m not in high school anymore and well, after you read so many in your teenage years they sort of lose their luster. This one was phenomenal enough to change my mind.

8. Sands of Time by @tirsynni | Legend of Zelda | Ganondorf/Link | WIP | 98k

Link awakens in the desert with no idea how he got there, to encounter his worst enemy...except it was the King of the Gerudo, not the King of Evil, he faced.

Heather Says: I have seen a lot of really good Link/Ganondorf art over the years, but never really stumbled across a fic that didn’t have judicious amount of non-con involved. But the Breath of the Wild 2 trailer happened, and everybody started drawing really pretty art, so I went looking. And lo and behold, @tirsynni saved the day with this gorgeous time travel/fix-it fic. 

9. killed with kindness by veterization | Persona 5 | Akechi/Akira | 52k

Goro can't quite figure out why so many people keep acting like they're his friend. (Or: the one where the Phantom Thieves decide to know thy enemy, befriend thy enemy, love thy enemy, crush on thy enemy).

Heather Says: I’ve read a couple of veterization’s fics over the years, and to date they have never disappointed me. They published this in June, and I think I clicked on it mostly because I was bored and hadn’t read any good P5 fic yet. This was basically just what the doctor ordered, and I was really happy to find something where Akechi’s story went ever so slightly different.

10. paper thin by @ebonybow | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane/Sara | 9k

Shane’s new neighbors are a morning-sex kind of couple.

Heather Says: So I went into this one knowing very little about how Sara fit into things. I didn’t know she was Shane’s girlfriend. I’d never even seen her, but I clicked because I like poly and I trust the author. I was 100% not disappointed. There’s also another fic with a very similar dynamic here, which is also aces.

11. damn.nation, now available on itunes by @kaikamahine | Good Omens | Aziraphale/Crowley | 11k

When lowly tempt-pusher Amphora (formerly of Stairwell 7B North, before she Fell,) gets the notice that end times are nigh, she gleefully quits her job and cancels her Netflix subscription and takes her place among the legions of hell. This, it turns out, was a bad plan.

Heather Says: Elizabeth may have only written one fic this year, but she made it a damn good one. I’ve always loved her OCs especially, so I was pretty tickled that this is 10k+ of outsider pov. Also, demons! Demons are great! This demon is great! I want like 9 seasons and a movie about Amphora, just saying.

12. The Dragon and Her Wolves by hapakitsune | Game of Thrones | Jon/Sansa/Daenarys | 60k

When the truth of Jon's birthright is revealed, control of the North and Daenerys's claim to the Iron Throne are both called into question. To preserve their tenuous alliance and secure her rule, Daenerys puts aside her personal feelings to arrange a marriage of political convenience between Jon and Sansa Stark.

Heather Says: What do you mean season 8 didn’t exist and the show totally ended with a three way relationship between the two most powerful women in Westeros and Jon Snow? Never been a big fan of Jon/Sansa before this, but this is another of those writers that I would literally trust if they wrote a fic about a fork and a spoon.

13. never tell me the odds by @wildehacked | Wolf 359 | Eiffel/Hera | 9k

“I tried Star Wars," he says, adjusting the phone under his neck, "and it was way underwhelming.”

A shaky breath from her end. “Well, where did you start?”

Heather Says: I don’t remember which of @wildehacked‘s fandoms I started reading first. Most recently it’s been The Magnus Archives (more on this later). The point is, they’d written Wolf 359 fic and it had Hera and Eiffel and it was literally everything that I’ve been looking for since the series ended.

14. Find Me Somebody by raiining | Good Omens | Warlock/Adam Young | 11k

“You left me,” he said. “You both left me, for him. And I can’t even blame you, because I’d have left me for him too.”

Heather Says: There was an Art. The art was lovely. So I went looking, because that’s what I do when faced with beautiful art depicting a rare pairing. And I found the holy grail. Like, possibly my favorite Good Omens fic? Ever? 

15. flirting with fire by @brawlite | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | WIP | 7k

Steve's a cop, Billy's a firefighter. It's not a grudge, it's just a regular old small town rivalry.

Heather Says: Okay so brawlite has written a lot of great stuff this year (more on that later), but I read this in bed at the beach house this August while I was reeling from both a horrible sunburn and like seven hours of mild to moderate day-drinking while everyone else was still throwing back shots right outside my bedroom door. Jaws was playing on the tv and I wasn’t even paying attention to it, because THIS. Long story short, I’ve been thirsty for more ever since.

16. gold, when you find me by mmtion | The Flash | Iris/Barry | 53k

It's not that Iris hates The Flash, per say - more that she hates writing about The Streak in a weekly, pun-heavy comic based on The Flash.

Heather Says: I never would have thought that a canon pairing would make it to my Top 25 list, but here we are. I like Iris/Barry a lot better when they don’t grow up together and spend a lot of time playing the Superman game, apparently. Also, this was really well-written, and sexual tension has never been something I’ve felt from Barry and Iris, but I felt it in this fic. Just. Damn.

17. never gets old by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger| Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 78k

Falling in love with a cam boy named KingSteve isn't the smartest thing Billy Hargrove has ever done, nor is it the most healthy -- but the good choice is rarely ever the fun choice, and Billy is all about living life fast and loose.

Heather Says: Told you I’d come back to it. brawlite and toastranger are a fantastic team. last year was cherry pie and under the covers, this year it’s camboys and cop/firefighter dynamics. Also, I have a really strange fascination with fics where a character has an instragram. It’s really, incredibly strange. Also also, every time I see this fic title I get that one Discovery Channel song stuck in my head. And no, it probably isn’t the one you’re thinking.

18. ways to save the world by @wildehacked | The Magnus Archives | Martin Blackwood/Jon Sims | 19k

“I left you,” Martin says softly.

Heather Says: And we’re back at wildehacked too! The Magnus Archives was a thing that happened to me. This is I think the first fic I read for it while listening, and it was so very close to what we got in canon. I think when it comes down to it though, I still prefer this fic, even if the ending of this season was pretty fantastic.

19. The Denial Twist by beethechange | Buzzfeed Unsolved | Ryan/Shane | 35k

“This is kind of surreal,” Shane says, taking a sip of his tea. It’s piping hot and delicious, except it tastes like hot chocolate and not like tea at all. “Sort of—Wonka-esque, right? Or Alice in Wonderland.”

Heather Says: While the vampire one is my favorite both because it is excellent and because it was my first, this one was bizarre and sexy and also I read it like only a month or so ago! The dancing was my favorite part, but having dreams to work with made this story fantastically interesting and I loved every second of it.

20. silver in our lungs by taywen | Spinning Silver | Miryem/The Staryk Lord | 4k

The marks had been with Miryem for as long as she could remember. There were a number of them, all the same shade, following one after the other around her left wrist. They were pale as old scars, though they felt no different from the rest of her skin, and her mother claimed that Miryem had been born with them.

Heather Says: I really like soulmate aus. There’s so many different ways to twist them and the way they can sometimes change the dynamic entirely and other times not change them at all is just fascinating. I’ve been hoping there would be more Spinning Silver content on ao3 and running into this while I was trying to decide what I wanted to do for yuletide was a real treat.

21. you got me begging, begging, i'm on my knees by plalligator | The Queen’s Thief | Attolia/Eugenides/Costis | 5k

Costis has a particularly enlightening evening. (or, that struggle when you're a guard who's in love with your rulers and it turns out you would kind of like it if they bossed you around a little)

Heather Says: I accidentally re-read the King of Attolia and it made me consider ships I had perhaps not previously considered. This was really lovely and just steamy enough.

22. something more alive than silence by pageleaf | The Queen’s Thief | Attolia/Eugenides/Costis | 21k

It was a good thing that six months after the king had promised to halve the guard, he still hadn’t done it, because since then, there had been two attempts on the king’s life.

Heather Says: I want to only type the words AGONIZED NOISES to describe this fic because that’s basically my headspace when I get 21k of a shiny new ot3, but I mean. Really. This is super good and maybe my favorite yet? Why didn’t I start reading this fandom when I first read the books?

23. Timing it Right by DragonBandit | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 14k

The dragon chooses, Mark knows that as well as any boy born in a weyr. He'd never considered what that would mean if the dragon picked someone you hated. He's starting to think that was a mistake.

Damien's gold rises at Whitney. Mark tries to make things right.

Heather Says: This should actually be somewhere back in March, but I apparently closed out of the tab at some point. I never really got into Pern much. I have the first three books, but got most of the way through the first one a long time ago and then never picked it back up. I didn’t think I would like this, mostly because of the fact that I hadn’t gotten into the books, but was surprised to find that I absolutely loved it.

24. Keep It In Your Sights Now by LuckyDiceKirby | Shades of Magic | Lila/Kell/Holland | 9k

Holland travels with Lila and Kell. Somewhere along the way, they reach an equilibrium.

Heather Says: I love the new things I’ve discovered during my yuletide trompings. I don’t think I ever actually considered this pairing when I first read the books, but I am just so enamored with the idea of the three of them together. Like, why did I not realize that potential back then? This was lovely, and I loved it, and I want so much more out of this pairing than what ao3 has to offer me.

25. Charioteer by petrichoral | The Queen’s Thief | Gen & Costis | 13k

Captured in battle and stuck in the Mede capital, Costis has given up all hope of seeing his country again. But Eugenides has a habit of turning up where he's least expected.

Heather Says: Technically this shouldn’t be on here because I only read it today, but it was really wonderful and so canon typical. Gen and Costis were perfect in it, Irene was perfect in it. Everyone was perfect and nothing hurts.

[ashleyspinelliburnbook]

S1E4: First Name Ashley/To Finster With Love

Had a brief internal crisis about whether to just end this blog after “First Name Ashley,” since, you know. Fortunately, I’ve decided to keep going, because this is one of my favorite episodes of the series.

First Name Ashley

This episode was so important to me as a tomboy who hated “girly” things in a big way. Formal dresses? Absolutely not. Pink anything? Throw it out. Wearing my hair down? Never. My name ending in a feminine suffix? Disappointing!

It got to the point where I had so embraced my anti-femininity that others began to embrace it too, except they used it to hurt me. In middle school, my friend told me that claiming my participation on “Gender Bender Day” didn’t count, because I “always dress like a guy.” That same friend took me shopping for “girl clothes” a year later, and when I wore them and was inevitably made fun of for leaving my (and everyone else’s) comfort zone, she said nothing. I once spent two hours straightening my hair in high school and posted a photo on MySpace, and the very first comment was from a girl who said my hair “looked like a wig.” I deleted the photo and didn’t straighten my hair again for five or six years. Anytime I tried to leave the box I’d put myself in, someone tried to force me back into it. Controlling my own narrative felt out of the question.

Now, I was seven years old when this episode came out, still figuring out my relationship with femininity and masculinity. But even through those moments in middle school and high school, I thought about Spinelli.

The thing about Spinelli is that she doesn’t hate being an Ashley — her great-aunt Ashley was the first woman to win the Iditarod, after all. She just hates what being an Ashley means at this school. Here, being an Ashley is a sign of status, and it means being initiated into the Ashleys (per the playground constitution section on cliques), a group of girly-girls who gossip and watch My Fuzzy Unicorn and play with dolls.

And that’s the part she hates. The Ashleys (and the school at large, thanks to Randall the snitch spilling her secret) have ripped Spinelli out of her comfort zone, not to mention taken her pride in her name, and put her into the impossibly limited sphere of being an Ashley.

That’s why it’s such a smart move that instead of having Spinelli change her name, the gang decides to rescue her from the Ashleys’ clutches by changing their names to Ashley, too. Hustler Kid hooks them up with fake library cards, school IDs, and social security cards with “Ashley” written on them, and Ashley S. proudly invites them to join. As soon as the OG Ashleys are overwhelmed by the presence of so many Ashleys, TJ offers them a deal: let Spinelli go, and they’ll all go.

There’s so much power in Spinelli getting to keep her name and do with it what she wants! She’s now living in full defiance of the expectations of the playground, and it’s now because of her name — not in spite of it.

In this way, TJ wraps it all up so succinctly: “There’s a lot of Ashleys out there, but there’s only one Spinelli.”

Takeaway: *annoying kid in class voice* Less a takeaway, more a comment. Gus says “it’s just a name” when Spinelli is lamenting her secret getting out. The kid with the most drama surrounding his name so far (episode 1: gets his name taken from him; episode 3: is jinxed until someone says his name and is given a new nickname in the process) has the least to say about this? Come on, writers.

To Finster With Love

A nice contrast to the kissing episode. This time, it’s adults!

So as usual, the gang is goofing off at recess — today, TJ and Mikey are racing down the hill in garbage cans. Unfortunately, their fun is interrupted when Miss Finster (tipped off by Randall, naturally) stops TJ’s garbage can in its tracks. She’s just about ready to take him to the principal’s office, when all of a sudden...

New character alert! It’s Hank, the janitor, who arrives with the immortal words, “Trash receptacles are made for trash, not for little boys to ride in.” And Miss Finster has the BIGGEST crush on him.

Unsurprisingly, Mikey is the only one who notices that love is in the air. The rest of the gang recognizes that she “turns nice” whenever he’s around, but can’t quite figure out why. Gus offers the explanation that it’s just professional courtesy, but no, it’s love, Mikey says — “like Romeo and Juliet, Troilus and Cressida, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver!” (Hi, this episode came out the year Arnold fathered a child with his and Maria’s housekeeper, though that didn’t become common knowledge until almost 15 years later.)

Anyway, once this particular nugget is out in the open, TJ decides to take full advantage of the situation. He tests the waters by insulting Miss Finster repeatedly, but she’s too immobilized with love to realize. “Too bad he’s not around all the time,” Spinelli says of Hank, which gives TJ another idea: what if Hank was around all the time?

Mikey protests, saying they’re messing with people’s feelings, and worse, messing with fate, but TJ isn’t having it. The gang goes to the library and comes out with a couple of boxes of romantic music. “They’re called records, or albums, depending on your generational affiliation,” Gretchen explains when Spinelli asks what's in the boxes.

The gang lures Miss Finster and Hank to the cafeteria as what seems to be an impossibly long recess continues, and they play the music (“Do you hear music?” “Whenever I look at you.” — an iconic exchange).

Things are going so well between them, in fact, that the school is, well, falling apart without Miss Finster there to rein things in. TJ tries his garbage can racing again, but some older kids steal the hill they’re on, taunting, “What are you gonna do, cry to Finster?” The gang goes to see King Bob, but a kindergartener tells them a “big coup” has left them in charge of the playground.

It’s a somber scene as the gang breaks Miss Finster from her lovestruck stupor and shows her the chaos outside. After letting out a primal scream, she and Hank realize they must break up — their calling is the school, not each other, and they were letting their responsibilities get away from them.

In a beautiful “welcome back to reality,” TJ throws another insult Miss Finster’s way, and the gang rejoices as she reacts appropriately.

Takeaway: Roses are red / Violets are blue / “Do you hear music?” / “Whenever I look at you.”

[sneakronicity]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Scott Lang/Hope Van Dyne Characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, Wanda Maximoff, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Hank Pym, Janet Van Dyne, Luis (Ant-Man movies), L*ura B*rton (but only briefly promise) Additional Tags: Post-Canon Fix-It, Fix-It, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Divorced Clint Barton Summary:

A few weeks after the snap is reversed, Clint is struggling to fit back into his old life. He's not the same person he was five years ago, and he can't just go back to how things were, so he makes a drastic change and tries to find new purpose in a world without Natasha.

But what if he doesn't have to? What if there's a way to get her back?

Post Endgame fix-it fic

~~~~~

The cafe was quiet, with only a few scattered tables occupied by people who looked like they had chosen it for that very reason.  Clint certainly had.  It had just reopened after five years of sitting vacant, and had yet to regain all its capabilities let alone its clientele.

How many businesses were there out there just like this one?  Stuck in the past and trying to pick up where they left off when the world moved on without them?  How many would fail?  How many had been repurposed while the owners were blipped?  Everyone was back now, but adjusting to this might be even harder than it had been to adjust to them being gone. Some people had never moved on and had welcomed the return, but what of the people who had?  Past and present colliding couldn’t be easy to deal with, and even those in the former group like Clint had found picking up again impossible.

Staring thoughtfully out the window, he saw Wanda crossing the street toward the cafe, the sun gleaming on her hair making it glow like fire, and for a moment another redhead was brought to mind.  The shade is all wrong, he thought, ignoring the pain in his heart and rising to his feet to greet her as she approached.

“Clint, it’s good to see you,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.  He noted how her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and how the hug felt almost absent, like part of a routine with no feeling behind it.

“Sorry, it's been a while,” he apologized.  He had called her when he’d moved to the city, told her what had happened, but this was the first time he’d seen her since Tony’s funeral.  Taking his seat again, he surveyed her quickly as she ordered her coffee, then asked for a refill himself. She looked thinner, sharper, like her features had been carved from stone.  “You look good,” he said anyway.

This time when she smiled it was slightly more genuine, like she was still in there somewhere, just sleeping.  “So do you,” she replied, knowing full well he was lying so doing the same in return.  “Tired of the mohawk?”

Clint chuckled self consciously, rubbing the side of his head where they hair had grown back in.  “Yeah, well… it’s a pain to keep up.”  The waitress arrived with their coffee and they took a moment to just try to relax in each other’s company.  It was slightly easier now that the ice was broken.  “How have you been?” He asked eventually.  He knew it was a stupid question, obviously she wasn’t doing well, but it was what one asked after not seeing each other for some time.  Or any time really,  Standard small talk.

She seemed to take his question more seriously though, and contemplated it longer than he expected.  “Every once in a while I have a moment where I think maybe I will get through this and move on again, but it always fades,” she replied, eyes fixed somewhere outside the large window.  

Wanda was so young, but had lost so much in so few years.  Her parents, her brother, her lover, her friend.  It was too much for one person, and it wasn’t fair that she had to go through this.  She has nothing and you have everything, yet you throw it all away. He hated the thought, the guilt.  Would he ever be able to be around most of his friends again without this nagging guilt? When Wanda had lost Pietro it had almost tore her apart, but she had been so strong, had turned her pain into good instead of letting the darkness consume her like he had.  She was the one who deserved her loved ones back, who deserved to be happy, to live with more than just regret and loss.  

When Clint looked up at her again he found her studying him with a piercing gaze, like she could see deep down into his soul, see the ugliness, the rot that was eating him up from the inside.  

He looked away.

“The offer still stands.  If you wanna come back to the Avengers, we could use the help getting everything back up and running smoothly again,” he said, clearing his throat.  What if she secretly hated him? If she resented him for getting his family back while hers was gone forever?  But not Natasha; Natasha they had both lost.

“I appreciate it,” Wanda replied evenly, her voice not cold, but not warm either.  “But I need to be on my own right now.”  She paused for a long moment, and when she continued it was with the first hint of emotion in her voice,  “I might travel for a few weeks.  There are too many memories… maybe going somewhere I have not been will help.”

Clint got that.  Despite what he was doing for the Avengers, his words to Rhodey about helping, he had yet to set foot back on the destroyed base.  He wasn’t quite ready to face that yet, but he would have to soon.  “I could go with you… if you wanted,” he said quietly, more a plea than an offer.

The wall she had built up between them seemed to crumble then, even if only a little, and she reached across the table and took his hand.  “You are needed here,” she said, a faint but affectionate smile on her lips, “But I appreciate the offer.”

Laying his free hand over hers, Clint squeezed it gently.  He wasn’t so sure he was needed anywhere, maybe he never had been, but he didn’t voice this. He had lost Natasha, but Wanda had lost pretty much everyone.  Everyone except for him.  And it was so easy to forget that while it had been over five years for him, for Wanda it had been only weeks since Vision’s death.  “Just know the offer is always there. Whenever you need me, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Clint,” she said softly, her eyes slightly wet.  Maybe she was a bit distant, a bit cut off from her emotions, but he knew Wanda was still in there, he just had to coax her out.  And he had meant his words, he would be there for her no matter what.  “I do not know how I would have gotten through losing Pietro without you, or the others.  We must stick together, yes?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.  When Pietro had died she had had an army to rally around her, but now who was left?  He and Sam were probably the only ones she had spent any amount of time with left, unless she wanted to go hang out at the old folks home or wherever it was that Steve had taken up residence.  He had essentially abandoned her, abandoned all of them, but Clint wasn’t quite ready to work through his feelings on that whole issue yet.

“Then you know I am here for you as well,” Wanda continued.  Clint nodded, figuring that was acknowledgement enough, but she wasn’t finished.  “She would be proud of you.”

The words were supposed to be comforting, but they hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, knocking all the air from his lungs.  How could she be proud?  Natasha had given her life for him so he could get his family back, and he was throwing that second chance away.  The cost had been too great.  

Wanda could clearly read his thoughts written all over his face and squeezed his hand harder.  “Above all else she would want you to be happy, and would be proud of you for taking the needed steps.  And trying to fill her shoes on the team as you are doing.”

Clint chuckled a little bitterly and shook his head.  “No one can fill her shoes, least of all me.”  For five years it had come down to Natasha.  The rest of her original team had left her holding the ball, but she never once dropped it.  She kept everything going, proved to be the leader he had always known she could be. She deserved to be here now, the official leader of the new wave of Avengers.  Clint was a poor substitute in her wake.  “But I have to try.  Everything she worked for… I have to keep it together.  For her.”

“It is why we keep going,” Wanda agreed.  “For all of those we have lost.”

Clint studied her for a long moment before smirking half heartedly.  “How’d you get so wise?  I’m the old guy here, you’re making me look bad.”

Her smile in return was soft and real, like the one he remembered from all those years ago.  “You do not need me for that.”

A joke?  An actual joke?  Despite trying to look wounded, Clint couldn’t help but grin back.  He hadn’t just been mourning his family those five years, but Wanda too.  Her brother had given his life to save Clint, and there was nothing he could ever do to make it up to her, but he had adopted her into his heart, made her an honorary part of his family, even if he never voiced it.  She was so strong, so resilient, but he worried. How much was too much? Everyone had a breaking point, he was a walking example of that.  But if she could still joke around he had to believe she hadn’t reached hers yet.  She resembled Natasha in that manner.  “Ohhhh, I see how it is.  Kick me while I’m down.  I get it.”

“You make such an easy target,” she replied, and for a moment it was just like old times.  Wanda wasn’t much for joking around, she was one of the more stoic members of the team, but Clint seemed to bring out her playful side more than the others.  He took pride in that, same as how he had always prided himself in being the one who could make Natasha laugh.  Not a polite chuckle, or something soft and breathy, but a full on belly laugh. It had been beautiful, and rare, and he didn’t know another person who could accomplish it.  Had been able to accomplish it.  Damn it.

“Well if I’m expected to take a beating right now, I might as well risk trying the pancakes here as well.  Not sure they’re back up to snuff yet,” Clint said, signalling the waitress.  “You in?” Maybe he’d even throw in a side of bacon.  It would be the first solid meal he’d had in weeks, and if he ended up with food poisoning it would just be his luck, honestly.

“Why not.”

If only it could always be like this.  If only they could forget all the loss and pain and heartache and just enjoy the day, and each other’s company.  Talk about banal subjects like the weather, or some stupid tv show.  If only the world, or the universe in this case, were a kinder place.  No crazies with god complexes trying to rule it or ruin it. Just peace, and happiness, with everyone they loved around to share it.

If only.

[ildivine]

the pure concept of knowing connor has given me a different angle on my writing, which is curious. i havent actually written connor in a long time as i shuffle through dbh persons like playing cards, n now theres a certain sense of discomfort at the aspect, and if i do write him itll certainly b less brutal situations.

games n media r great platforms for my creativity; my therapist said he wants me to think of making my own n sure i can work on that, but i dont feel the excitement i do when i have a platform to work from. i fell in love with connors character so quickly, an ironic contrast to my first original thought of Oh No A Cis White Male Cop n frankly didn't like him at first; but so is the point of the story, as hes a major character w a different outlook on his angle of the game as a whole. and the point is that he's not just that, but another person suffering beneath the oppression of capitalisms cruelty n ive learned a lot through him

i dont feel the crush as heavily anymore either, but i also haven't seen his face in two weeks so who knows if that will change. obsession is.. bizarre when ur in a situation like this; i remember going through the same thing with dave as i absolutely fell in love w his comic character, n then i met him n we dated n it was thrilling, but i think its natural for that excitement to die down once u get to kno a person n adjust to those personal qualities. eventually ill b an acquaintance or even a friend of connors n itll b easier to think of him as a person rather than fawn over him like a celebrity. i cant say id mind letting go of an overwhelming crush ive had for over a year straight now, fwiw. if i was young n foolish id probably try to pursue a romantic angle with him, but there's no possible way i could try to navigate such an awkward long-distance relationship even if i did want to. to b old enough to differentiate foolish puppy love is rather nice, cuz i do the same thing i do w every hyperfixation, but it is only exactly that; im in love with the concept of story flexibility n all his personality angles rather than him himself, considering i dont actually know Him or his life very much at all.

its difficult having rp partners that i can't talk to abt these things, but its also a nice outlet n i do have to remind myself that im writing fiction n nothing parallels my writing, i simply tap into whatever, whoever in the process n wind up soulbonding them as apparently my empathy is massive enough to stretch across dimensions.

but i do miss him n he nonetheless already holds a place in my heart i wont forget. he hasn't been online when i keep checking the garden and its frustrating that we share dreams, thoughts and memories at times yet i cant turn on the zen garden when hes not there. its a strange concept as, with how vivid and clear the zen garden is to me, its oddly empty when i cant connect to it, like standing in a dark room by myself. im not sure what that is, the idea of lacking the wavelength when hes not there...if we aren't both trying at the same time then nothing happens, compared to how i can usually pop in and say hi to the boys whenever.

i write brutal, twisted things n it almost makes sense he thought i actively hurt him as i have no idea what he's experienced in relation to me aside from sharing lucid, crazy dreams that often ended with him dying. funny fucking irony, that, slapped me right in the face n that's what i get for being obsessed with robot gore, but hopefully he doesnt take it too personally. to b a fanfic writer n rper n say "its just the concept! i love the idea!" probably wont fly too well so for the most part, ive simply avoided talking about it. but now its even more impossible Not to think abt him all the fucking time when i write. i hope him n hank r doing alright

[harrisonstories]

RTE Radio 2 Ireland - BP Fallon interview with George Harrison (18 Oct. 1987)

Photo by: Brian Roylance, Genesis Publications

This is an interview I’ve edited and uploaded to youtube because it’s quite long, and it was in two parts, so I’ve combined them together. You’ll notice at about 14:52 there’s a slight jump in the conversation which is where the second part begins. 

I really love this interview. It’s one of - if not my favourite interview he ever did. I strongly suggest you give it a listen. Similarly to the Swedish Fan Club Tape, George is extremely calm and open, and Irish DJ BP Fallon asks refreshing questions. BP Fallon has himself had an interesting life, and at one point worked at Apple for Derek Taylor (You can also see him miming the bass in the Instant Karma Top of the Pops video). I’m guessing this related to why George felt relaxed. I hope you enjoy it.

Below I’ve included the written version of this interview by BP Fallon for The Sunday Tribune. It has some information not available in the audio (not sure if it simply wasn’t recorded, or if there’s another version which includes the full conversation):

"Sometimes it feels like another world, another life, some previous incarnation," George Harrison says. "I view it a bit through a haze but, y'know, people don't ever stop talking about it so it's hard to got too much distance between myself and The Beatles." 

George Harrison doesn't mind that, not anymore. "I used to," he admits. "I used to not like it at all. I wanted to be free of it. Now I've learned to live with it. And also, don't forget, there was a period when The Beatles split up and there were all kind of court cases and bad vibes and stuff and that left a bad taste in the mouth for a while but after the years it's all cleared up, everybody's friends again." 

He's sitting in a little office in the house owned by his company Handmade Films, just off Cadogan Square in Knightsbridge in London, a few streets behind Harrods. Fourty-four-years old this man is, he has a bit of a beard and his shortish hair is swept back and there are new lines on his face. He drinks coffee and smokes ciggies and when you sit talking to the geezer you can't help but feel warmth for him. 

As one of John, Paul, George And Ringo, The Fab Four, as a member of the most popular, the most inventive, the most influential rock group of all time, he has gone through one of the strangest trips ever. They were Gods once, The Beatles. And sitting here now, George Harrison comes across as a normal bloke.

He was born in Liverpool, the fourth child of Harold and Louse Harrison. George's father was a bus driver - before that, he had been a ship's steward on the White Star Line for ten years and from one of his travels in America had returned with an old wind-up gramophone and records by bluesman and yodeller Jimmie Rodgers and country singer Hank Williams. Young George was smitten. He listened to skiffle, people like Lonnie Donegan and songs about the Rock Island Line. And then he heard Elvis Presley singing Hearbreak Hotel. "It came out of somebody's radio," George Harrison says, gazing out the window at the autumn light fading behind the trees, "and it lodged itself in the back of my head. It's been there ever since." 

At the age of 13, for £3, he bought his first guitar. Two years later, Paul McCartney introduced George to his friend John Lennon (George - "this snotty-nosed kid" as Lennon recalled). George joined John and Paul in their skiffle group The Quarreymen. In 1962, when George was 19, John, Paul, George and their new drummer Ringo Starr made their first record together. It was a fresh-sounding bluesey pop record called Love Me Do and they now called themselves The Beatles.

They changed the world, these four Scouse moptops making new noises and singing about wanting to hold your hand and about walruses and about revolution and all you need is love. 

And for eight years The Beatles were bigger than Jesus.

For a while, The Beatles - at very least by example - endorsed smoking dope and taking LSD. John, Paul and George were each busted at least once for breaking the cannabis laws. "A lot of the stuff that happened..." - and then George brings himself up to the present tense - that happens, it's just like when Prohibition was on. If they make a big deal about stuff it becomes bigger than it actually is. In moderation... you have to have moderation in everything. The worst drug of all is alcohol... it actually kills more people then heroin." He says he was fortunate as a kid to see a film about the trumpet player Chet Baker, about Baker's heroin addiction, "and that and maybe something else made me aware that this thing was just too much. 

"Of course, the other things, the psychedelic drugs, are much different because they don't put your body in a stupour, they sort of..." and now he's laughing... "they sort of catapult you out into the universe. It's a totally different perspective." Then his voice is serious again. "These things obviously can be very dangerous too. I'd hate to have some right now because I don't think I could handle it. It just gives you too many things to think about all at once."

Love and peace went out the bathroom window when The Beatles split in 1970, with Paul McCartney publicly announcing he had left. George says he realised The Beatles weren't shaking a couple of years before that. "Everyone was just getting all uptight with each other. The new wives were coming in and, y'know, living under the piano and there was no privacy anymore for us as far as the group was concerned in what was normally the only privacy we ever had, the four of us when we got into a studio. And we'd just grown away from each other. One time or another every one of us left that group before we finally stopped." 

George left during the making of what would be Let It Be. Ringo left another time "and went on holiday, and John was always wanting to leave and Paul too. You know, it was too much pressure and we'd been through those years. It was just too much.”

He emphasises that the remaining three Beatles are good pals, now. "Paul and I went through a shaky period but we're okay, now. All the old aggravations have passed a long time ago. There's no reason not to be friends."

By 1971 George Harrison was the most successful solo Beatle, with his triple album All Things Must Pass and the enormous hit My Sweet Lord. Four years later his single Ding Dong Ding Dong - a record even worse than McCartney's Mary Had A Little Lamb - was the first release by a solo Beatle to fail to enter the charts. Several years later a court ordered him to pay £260,000 damages for plagiarising the Chiffons' song he's So Fine with My Sweet Lord. That Harrison had modeled My Sweet Lord on another song, the gospel Oh Happy Day by the Edwin Hawkins Singers, was bad enough. That he had to pay the money to his former manager Allen Klein - "a looney who didn't take care of business" George describes him now- because Klein had scooped up the publishing of He's So Fine... that rubbed salt into the wound. 

His career and also his marriage to his first wife Patti Boyd were in pieces. Patti had gone to live with George's close pal Eric Clapton, who had written Layla about his best friend's wife. George started drinking heavily, contracting a serious liver complaint that his friends feared might be the end of him. 

George's chum Eric Idle had found it impossible to raise the necessary finance to make the Monty Python film Life Of Brian, so George chipped in with half the required money, £2,250,000. It turned out to be one of the best investments George had ever made, reaping a profit of more than £30,000,000. Since then, Harrison and his film company Handmade Films have scored with another Monty Python film The Meaning Of Life - banned in Ireland - and delivered films like Time Bandits and Mona Lisa as well as Shanghai Express, a disaster for its stars Sean Penn and Madonna and its producer Harrison. But what the heck. George isn't short of a few shekels.

In 1978, George married Olivia Trinidad Arias, a 27-year-old who had been born in Mexico and had been working as a secretary in A&M Records in Los Angeles. George's health had been desperate. He was fading away. Olivia contacted the Chinese acupuncturist Dr. Zion Yu and within weeks of treatment George had regained his energy and his spirit. 

They have a nine-year-old son named Dhani - the Indian for wealthy - and the other day he asked his father to make him up a cassette of Chuck Berry songs. After George appeared at the Prince's Trust concert in London five months ago with Ringo, Eric Clapton and Elton John, Dhani came backstage. George had sung his own Beatle compositions While My Guitar Gently Weeps and Here Comes The Sun. "I asked him 'What did you think?' and he said 'Uh, you were alright Dad, but why didn't you do Chuck Berry songs like Roll Over Beethoven and Johnny Be Good and Rock'n'Roll Music?'" 

He has a new LP out any day now, his first in five years. It's called Cloud Nine. "Have you heard the album?" he asks solicitously. "No? I'll see if someone's got a copy." George Harrison wanders off, and returns with a young woman who says "It's a bootleg I taped from the CD." George flips the cassette into the music system and spins it through, looking for a specific track. "I think you might like this one," he says in his dry Liverpudlian drawl, settling himself into another chair as he watches for reactions. 

Ringo's drums with cellos straight from Lennon's I Am The Walrus lead into George singing with fondness for former Beatle times. It's a track that could fit on a Beatle record and it's called When We Was Fab. "Fab... but it's all over now baby blue" George sings, and at the end there's sitar sounds like George cosmicing out on Sgt. Pepper. It's... well, fab.

When John Lennon was murdered in 1980, George Harrison didn't suddenly lock himself away from the world in his Gothic mansion. Near the riverside town of Henley-On-Thames, this bizarre 70-roomed palace called Friar Park was remodeled a century ago by the eccentric Sir Frankie Crisp and is set in 33 acres of parkland with three lakes with secret stepping stones so one can appear to walk on water, underground caves linked by a river and a reproduction of the Alps that includes a perfect 100 foot high replica of the Matterhorn. George was already in hiding.

"I was already trying to hold onto some sort of privacy. I think everyone needs to have a bit of space, y'know. I mean, if you were just being mobbed and on the TV and that all your life you just turn into a loony, and long before John got shot I was already just digging in the garden, planting trees and just trying not to go on television, just having a bit of peace. 

"But what it did, it affected me probably like anyone who loved John and who grew up with him and his music. And it was a very sad thing and, um, it didn't make me feel..." Harrison's voice trails off, and for a moment his eyes look away and he's lost in private thoughts. He looks back. " It made me wonder about ever gettin' into situations where there's fans, although at the time you can't blame fans for that. There's one loony in every crowd, I suppose. But I go on living normally. I don't panic unnecessarily."

There was talk that for Live Aid Paul, George, Ringo and Julian Lennon might let it Beatle together, but George dismisses any idea of reunions. "I don't think we'll play together. The Beatles certainly can't play again and I think it's best left as it is, y'know." 

Long before Live Aid, George Harrison's Concerts For Bangladesh raised £45,000,000 for the starving. He didn't appear at Live Aid but says if he'd known more about it "maybe I would have done it but they did alright without me." George talks at length about the planet, his concerns about destruction. Last year he participated in an anti-nuclear rally in Trafalgar Square, and he's a member of the ecological organisation Greenpeace. "I love those people because they go out and actually do it. I mean, if it wasn't me that's the kind of thing I'd like to be, out there on a ship getting harpooned by Russians and Japanese."

At the turn of the Seventies, George became a benefactor to the Hare Krishna movement. He not only made records with them and talked about them publicly but also forked out a quarter of a million pounds to buy them a 15-room Elizabethan mansion with 17 acres of land. 

Since then, George's friend His Divine Grace Guru Bhaktivechanta Swami, the leader and founder of the International Society For Krishna Consciousness, who was 77 when they met, has died. George feels that some of the remaining Krishnas have at times abused his patronage, and he cites letters from people who wrote saying that they were hassled at airports by devotees using Harrison's name. 

Nevertheless, he still subscribes to "the Swami's ancient Vedic way of having God consciousness. The technique of chanting, just like the monks and Christians, they do it too really but it's just using beads and chanting these ancient mantras... they do have great affect. I wouldn't knock them at all. I am always a bit dubious about organisations and since the swami died it does seem to be chaotic, with all kinds of guys thinking they're the gurus. To me, it's not important to be a guru, it's more important just to be, to learn humility." And George still chants. "I've still got my bag of beads and they're really groovy now, all polished up."

Is he a happy chap? "Yeah, I'm okay. Sometimes I get depressed. It's a constant battle, isn't it? You have to consciously make an effort to be happy and considering everything, I've come along quite nicely. There's always room for improvement but, um, I have a laugh and I feel quite good about things." He believes in reincarnation. "The only reason we're actually in these bodies is to learn and develop love of God and liberate our souls from this round and round, the Memphis Blues." He reckons he'll come back again. "Well," he says laughing, "by the look of things I'll probably have to... but I'd like to give it a pass one of these incarnations!"

And, George Harrison, what would you like to be remembered for? 

He pauses. "I don't know... I don't know." And then he smiles and looks you directly in the eyes and you see the face of a man still searching, still looking to extend his gentle vision for all time. He'd like to be remembered, he finally says, "just as somebody who's not bad, not that bad”... 

"That'll do, yeah."

Fair play to you, George.