#depeche mode easy third

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Courtly Love

[Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3]

Summary: Lucius becomes captain and you suggest playing a game.

Lucius The Eternal/fem!Reader(Camellia)

Warnings: no for this part

Word count: 2235

Author's note: So, it begins. Btw, starting from the next part, Lucius will have a POV.

Song: Depeche Mode - World in my Eyes

Tags: @passionofthesith

According to the remembrancers who attended the war councils, Fulgrim promised a quick victory. Many Space Marines, when communicating with mortals, spoke briefly about what happened on Laeran. But not Lucius. You had to take with you not only paper, but also pict-devices, in the hope of recording all the details.

And there were a lot of them. And despite Lucius' boasting and his complete confidence in the actions of the primarch, one could draw a simple conclusion. The cleansing of Laer was not as easy as many mortals thought and as Fulgrim claimed.

The Third Legion suffered significant losses and many Space Marines were exhausted by the grueling war with the xenos, capturing each new territory. Every free minute brought warriors truly wonderful happiness.

And you could not help but be filled with gratitude to Lucius, who spent all his free time talking to you. You even tried to dissuade the warrior from constant meetings, insisting on his rest. Besides, you would always have the opportunity to talk after the campaign. But he stubbornly refused.

“There is nothing better than telling of your triumph when the enemy’s blood is still fresh on the sword.”

That’s what he told you. And remembering your grandfather, who rarely told his stories from the front (your father was silent at all), you admired the space marine even more. Lucius was the embodiment of skill and military honor. He was perfect. And the fact that he was a simple soldier was depressing. He was worthy of all the laurels.

However, soon the man got his chance.

Cletus Nero, captain of the 13th company, died in one of the skirmishes with the Laerans. Of course, you knew about the great losses in the Third Legion. And yet it was surprising that in addition to the soldiers, those of higher rank also died. But the main thing in this whole story was something else.

“Of course, they had no choice but to appoint me as the new captain.” - covered in someone else’s blood and dirt, sweaty and out of breath, Lucius did not express any grief over the death of his comrade. Only pride and delight in his rank.

“I am the best swordsman and have distinguished myself on the battlefield more than once. Besides, after Nero’s death, I immediately got my bearings and took command of the company upon myself.”

As the new captain of the 13th company, Lucius did not consider it important to name the full title of the fallen space marine. Now Lucius bears this title, and the name of Cletus Nero will be inscribed on the wall. So that his memory will not be forgotten.

Even though you had not been able to visit the place that Lucius spoke about with rapture, you would hardly remember all the names. And you would hardly have read them all, quickly getting bored. Such thoughts were wrong, but still you did not say them out loud.

Besides, you had your own work. To extol Lucius, not the rest of the Third Legion warriors.

“You’re right, they had no choice. You were the best candidate for captain. Wait, does that mean you’ll be attending war councils?”

“Even more.” - the young man rubbed his nose with his finger, poorly hiding a triumphant smile. - “I’ll be attending, em, special meetings. The closest to Fulgrim. All company captains. And not a single mortal.”

“And is it alright that I now know about such… meetings?”

“But you’re not going to talk about them, are you?” - satisfied with your negative nod, the man grinned. - “Besides, even though I mentioned the lodge, you won’t know the details. And if you ask, my answer will be the same.”

“And what is it?” - succumbing to the game, you ask with a smile. A happy smile paints Lucius’s face from the opportunity to say the long-awaited answer.

“I can’t say.”

***

Having taken up his new position, Lucius was forced to immediately begin his duties. To go to important meetings, to give orders. The other Space Marines were not just brothers now. They were his subordinates.

Although not all of them, of course. There were people who still had a higher rank than the swordsman. And right now, Lucius had to try even harder to win their attention. He did not intend to remain as captain for too long, even though he had only recently assumed this rank.

Because of this, you slowly began to accept that your meetings with Lucius would be much less frequent. However, you were quite surprised (and heartened) when the Space Marine called you, promising to show you a surprise. And it must be said, the surprise was as good as it could have been.

“Now you have more opportunities with my new position.” - Lucius smirked, enjoying your reaction. - “Isn’t that wonderful?”

Wonderful. It was simply magical. The newly minted captain of the 13th Company immediately ordered that you be given access to the airstrip. Now you had the opportunity to see the Third Legion leave the Pride of the Emperor and head for the Laer.

Of course, some of the warriors were not thrilled to see you. But you were quiet and out of the way, so they quickly lost interest in you. You really didn’t want to distract the legionaries from their work. And it was a bit scary to be in such a place. But Lucius’ joy was quickly transmitted to you.

“This is simply magnificent!” - you enthusiastically took pics of the event, hoping to put them in your book. - “To see all this, and in action. Right before the next landing on the Laer.”

“Not just a new one, but the last one. Fulgrim will personally lead all the companies to conquer the last atoll.” - Lucius noted weightily. - “That’s why it is very important that you see everything before we leave the Laer. After all, this is my first battle as a captain.”

You nodded solemnly, raising the pictograph to the man. As expected, Lucius immediately took a pose. Sometimes you wanted to catch his image when he didn’t expect it. But the Space Marine always managed to create an aura of a confident warrior around himself, like from the illustrations in books. He had a real talent for it.

“And then what?” - you fixed your gaze on the marching legionaries, ignoring Lucius’s childish, offended face. - “You can attend war councils now, right? Have you planned a new campaign yet?”

“That’s about it.” - the man sighed and you stared at him in confusion. - “Fulgrim was going to go to help the Iron Hands against the xenos lovers. But I will not take part in this battle.”

“No?” - you looked worriedly at the saddened youth with confusion. - “Why? Did something happen?”

“If only. Saul Tarvitz and I, under the command of Lord Commander Eidolon, will travel to the Satyr Lanxus Belt. We will ensure that the local governors follow the laws of the Imperium.”

Despite his obvious displeasure, Lucius smiled again. Sometimes you were amazed at how quickly his mood could change. But you even liked it. In fact, if you studied the Space Marine a little, you could figure out how to cheer him up. Honestly, he was as simple as a boy sometimes.

“But Fulgrim himself gave the order. So this task, this test, will be carried out by me with perfect precision. The Primarch will be proud of us. Our landing on Laer is nothing more than an auxiliary force. All the laurels will go to the first companies. But at Satyr's Belt, I will already be a true captain.”

You were happy for Lucius. Happy as never before. His victories were your victories. His happiness was your happiness. He had finally received a new rank and would soon show the Legion that he had earned it. And yet, you could not resist the bitter disappointment that gripped your heart.

“Why are you sad? Are you not happy for me?”

“I’m glad, I’m so glad. But I’ll miss you.” You purse your lips, gently shrugging your shoulders. “I really don’t want to be anyone’s chronicler except you. I’ll have to count the days until you return. Just like the lady in the stories about courtly love.”

“What kind of courtly love?” Lucius stared at you in confusion, tasting the unfamiliar word. His eyes sparkled with anticipation and you felt your cheeks warm up.

It’s a shame he won’t be able to fully appreciate such a relationship.

But telling you about them won’t hurt, right?

“Oh, I loved stories about courtly love as a child. In Ancient Terra, the noblest and best knights performed feats. But not only in the name of their king or country, but also in honor of a noble lady. A lady could give a knight a handkerchief or a ribbon for good luck, and wait impatiently for his return. And he performed feats, keeping her gift close to his heart. This... this is not a traditional marriage. Such a relationship is more elevated. More-"

"Perfect?" - the man continued softly, considering your words.

"Yes, that's right. A lady can only have one knight. Just as a knight has one lady. As a child, I wanted to participate in courtly love, but over time I realized that many men are not interested in this. Even if this is just a game."

You did not dare tell Lucius that young men were not ready for relationships without intimacy or marriage. Besides, some residents of the Imperium did not simply honor the Emperor's Truths and considered superstitions stupid. Sometimes you came across men who were sure that any remnants of the past should remain in the past.

Too bad. You really liked the idea of ​​courtly love. It even sounded beautiful.

"If it’s so then let's play." - you stared at the swordsman with distrust, but he spoke with absolute seriousness. - “I am the best swordsman in the entire Legion. I fight for the Primarch. For the Imperium. Just like those ancient knights. All I need is a lady.”

What you didn’t expect was such an offer. It’s unlikely that Lucius would laugh at you or say that courtly love is for fools. But his desire to take part in this was striking. And attractive.

Involuntarily rummaging through your pockets, you gratefully remembered the seamstress from whom you ordered your dress. It was not only comfortable, but also beautiful. One pulled out ribbon will not spoil your image at all. And most importantly, it will not leave you naked.

Pulling the ribbon out of your sleeve, you tried to make yourself look as noble and refined as possible, like a lady from the illustrations to novels. Surely the aristocrats would laugh at your awkward pose. But the sight of Lucius admiring your actions gave you strength.

You remembered the hapless remembrancer from the library and his words. Yes, the flagship was full of beautiful roses. But only the camellia had its own space marine knight. A feeling of pride washed over you from head to toe. You felt special.

Clutching the cloth, you briefly wondered if you were doing the right thing. You were mortal, after all, and Lucius was an Astartes. Perhaps this would distract him? After all, the Space Marines were far from being civilians.

Still, why not let Lucius see the world a little through your eyes? You had become close enough over the years. He trusted you, told you stories. He even told you that he was a member of a mysterious lodge, hoping for your silence.

So why not play at courtly love? It was just a game, after all.

“Well then, I’m lady Camellia, give you, Lucius, an honor to be my protector and warrior."

Your "noble" nickname sat pleasantly on the tongue.you tried to make your voice more elegant and noble. - "Please take this ribbon with you into battle. For good luck. And I… I will await your return.”

Lucius carefully took the ribbon from you, his mouth slightly open, as if waiting for the piece of fabric to speak to him. It was a funny sight. And in some ways, surprisingly beautiful. Watching a space marine comprehend something new, inaccessible to him, unlike mortals.

Lucius with incredible speed gracefully tied the ribbon to the hilt of his sword. You looked reverently at the proudly smiling swordsman. He only enjoyed your reaction to such a gesture even more.

“I will flood the entire Laer with xenos blood in your honor,” the man said proudly. After a moment of thought, he quickly grabbed your hand and quickly touched it with his lips, awkwardly imitating the gesture he had once seen. - “My lady.”

“My knight.” - You giggled happily like a little girl, embarrassed by the behavior of a space marine.

Lucius didn’t even realize that he was supposed to kiss the knuckles, paying attention to the palm. But such a gesture from a space marine was already unusual. Not to mention what an honor it was.

“And don’t worry. I will do everything so that you get to the Proudheart as my chronicler.”

Lucius managed to wink at you before putting the helmet on his head. The gentle male voice was replaced by the roar of a vox-helmet. You involuntarily shuddered. Whatever words the man said from under the helmet, they almost sounded like a sentence.

“How can I do without my lady?”

[ammonitetheartist]

Updated Q’s ref material hehe (felt this color for the fur lining of the slippers fit the overall design better)

[Image ID: Four drawings, each depicting Q, a fan character for Murder Drones. Q wears a short-sleeved, maroon robe with blue and chartreuse tye-dye swirls. On her feet are a pair of boot-like slippers, dark blue in color and lined with salmon-red fur. The first is a design used on a pre-drawn base. Around the design is a sample palette of the colors used in it.

The second drawing depicts a catified version of Q’s design, with the robe instead being a bandana around her neck. The drawing includes a sample palette of the colors used in the design.

The third drawing includes a sketch bust of Q, with sleepy eyes and a crooked smile. The text on the left reads ‘Age: 23 | Pronouns: she/him | Voice Claim: Crowne Prince’. The text on the right reads ‘ - chill chaos | - usually v easy-going and kinda head-in-the-clouds-ish | - def still has the capacity to be blunt tho. sometimes out of nowhere | - v go-with-the-flow, let’s-do-this-and-see-what-happens type | - doesn’t care what other ppl think of her, sometimes to a fault (maybe cares a bit what Celadon and her friends think bc. they can kill him | - gets the. weirdest impulsive thoughts | - better at reading ppl than he lets on | - likes 80s-90s music (think Rubberband Man or. anything by Depeche Mode), also Glass Animals’.

The fourth drawing has three sketches of Q, the one on the top showing him leaning over a dying worker drone, saying ‘Why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food’. The worker can only respond with garbled dying noises.

The sketches on the bottom of the drawing depict a bust of Q with a mildly unamused expression. In the sketch at the bottom-left, he states ‘I don’t really like. absorb… half the things you say tbh’ to which H8 (off-screen) responds ‘PFF- Yeah, wonder why’. In the sketch at the bottom-right, Q says ‘No, I mean. on purpose’. The only response H8 can generate is ‘A.’ as Q continues ‘You’re really just. a broken record, usually’. End ID]

[hyperesthesias]

Permanently Together

Summary: Patients together in Dr. Caligari's psychiatric facility, Cesare and Jane escaped and attempted to make a new life for themselves. But unable to cope with what happened to them, Cesare leaves in the middle of the night, not knowing he has a son with Jane.

Rating: T

Warnings: Modern AU; PTSD; narcolepsy; hospitals, unplanned pregnancy; muteness; love triangle; references to sexual abuse; psychosis; sleepwalking (...obviously); angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 11,849.

Reading Music: Shake the Disease by Depeche Mode; Semi-Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind; Everything Changes by Staind; Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron&Wine.

AO3 LINK

Cesare was always his favorite. Cesare never cried or complained, he never talked back or said anything against the Doctor – he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Cesare was mute, except for on occasion, and even then, the words never really came out right. He stopped speaking when he was a kid, he told me once. He didn’t tell me exactly why, but he said it was the night his parents died, and ever since, the words just won’t come out. It’s never been a problem; we find other ways to talk, he writes, we sign together, we gesture vaguely. It all makes sense in the end. I told him once that I’ve never thought less of him because of the way he struggles. He told me that not everyone is so kind. We both knew that to be true.

Doctor Caligari was a mean son-of-a-bitch, but he was an expert at hiding it. Not that anyone really cared about an orphan like Cesare, or a psychotic like I was. It’s easy to get lost between the cracks when people aren’t looking out for you to begin with. But we got each other through the harder years – through the abuse, and the lies and manipulation, through the trial and sentencing. It didn’t matter how bad things got, Cesare and I believed each other, we were real. 

I was sent to Doctor Caligari by my father for a bad case of general anxiety, and left with acute psychosis and more trauma than when I first went in. There are a lot of things I won’t talk about, but however bad I had it, Cesare had it worse. He was his favorite. There were mornings at the hospital when Cesare would tell me, in his own way, that he felt different – that there were patches from the night before that he remembered, and some he didn’t. He eventually decided, after some bits and pieces started coming together, that it was better he didn’t remember everything completely. I told him he was lucky – I remembered everything.

After the trial, the Doctor’s patients – who were still alive – were awarded monetary compensation for their misery. Nothing, no amount of money, could ever make what happened any better. It was almost an insult. But when I asked Cesare what he wanted to do with his newfound riches, he told me he wanted to do everything in his power to put the past behind him. That meant going to school. We were both in our early twenties at the time, most of our peers were already graduating. Everyone felt so far ahead of us, but then again, not everyone was locked in a hospital with a murdering-rapist-doctor, so I guess we deserved a little slack.

I went with him to university, I didn’t know what else to do. Cesare had dreams, he had goals – he knew exactly what degree he wanted and what he was going to do with it: he was going to get a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts and become a graphic designer. He was always drawing, every minute he was awake, which sometimes, wasn’t that often. The stress of school flared his narcolepsy, and at times he missed classes or slept right through them. But he kept going, he kept fighting. He wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way – ‘Not anymore’, he said. 

But me? I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t want anything to do with my father; he and Caligari were friends, and my father trusted him to do the right thing. But after everything, after telling him that I was getting worse, after him telling me that it always gets worse before it gets better…He didn’t understand. And Caligari made sure I couldn’t communicate the way I needed to – that I couldn’t get help. It wasn’t my father’s fault. But at the time, I was still just raw and angry. 

I opted for a business degree. It seemed the easiest degree to get besides psychology – and there was no way either me or Cesare were going anywhere near that department, even within a ten foot radius. I went through the motions, did my work, got an internship at a consolidation firm, joined a golfing club, every day hoping that things would feel better, that one day I’d wake up and feel like Elle Woods instead of, well, me.

We got an apartment together. We slept in separate rooms. Cesare didn’t like being touched after…everything. I couldn’t say I felt much different. 

When you look back on things, everything feels so much clearer – you can see the upward progression of change. But when you’re in it, it feels so linear, so stagnant. But I was happy then, we both were. Living with my best friend, finally focusing on something other than everything that had been done to me. He made life make sense again, he was a constant and a joy. Everything felt new again, everything felt brighter – even the mundane. Even the sooty city air felt fresher. It was good. I just wish I’d been able to feel how good it was in the moment. But that’s the curse of healing: you can’t tell it’s happening as it happens. You just have to wait. Wait for things to scab over while you’re going through the motions. But you can’t ever stop doing the motions. Or you’ll stop altogether. 

Cesare started to burn out by the third or fourth year. He denied it, but I knew him. I knew him well enough to know the look in his eye when he wasn’t feeling himself. 

‘I can’t ever stop,’ he told me – half in sign, half in oddly formed words. ‘If I stop, then everything will catch up to me. I have to keep running. I can’t stop running.’

“Running is just going to make you tired,” I said.

“Jane –” he always says my name. It’s the one word he can get out with clarity. ‘What else am I supposed to do?’

“Take care of yourself.” We were sitting on the couch, my legs were resting over his, his tablet on my knees. As the years went on, we became more intimate with our physical barriers. “I’m not telling you to stop, Cheese. I’m just saying you need rest.”

‘I’ve had enough of rest. I can’t stay awake.’

“I don’t mean sleep. I just mean don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He sighed and looked away from me. “Jane…” he shook his head.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m not trying to argue.” I ran my hand through his hair, and he turned back to me. “I love you. I don’t want to see you suffer.”

He took another breath and nodded as he held my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I love you, too,” he said, as best as he could. The effort makes it all the more sincere.

He slept next to me that night. It was cold, neither one of us like being cold – it feels sterile and oppressive. It feels better waking up next to someone you feel safe with, and I was happy he felt safe.

The next morning was better, I could see he felt a little lighter. He told me he was playing hooky that day and was going to skip classes. He’d run out of eyeliner and asked to borrow mine; we went shopping together. Menial tasks are more healing than people give them credit for, especially when they’re with someone you love. The opportunity to do something normal when you’ve felt and been so abnormal for so long is one of the more reaffirming things for a broken person. He smiled a lot that day. 

There has always been something so beautiful about Cesare. His effortless laugh when swatching eyeshadow palettes, as I tease him and tell him how pale he is — like white cheddar Cheese. The way his eyes take in everything around him, like a bird observing the world from far away. I stood and watched him choose peaches from the produce aisle, and I can’t recall seeing anyone so beautiful; so gentle with something so tender in his hands, he brushed it against his face and smelled it, almost like he was kissing it. He leaves a softness wherever he goes. 

A lot of people don’t know what to do with softness. They’re told softness doesn’t survive – that it’s anathema to endurance. But they’re wrong. Softness is the only way to survive. It’s the only way you don’t break under the pressure and the torment. Only the soft survive. Everyone else just lingers.

This was especially clear to me. Once I was good enough at golf, I was invited into a golfing group from my consolidation internship. It was a business opportunity, I told myself. And it was. It was also a chance to reassimilate into the real world. They were nothing like me, and it felt like learning an entirely new language, new mannerisms, as if I were morphing into a different species. But it just felt like I was straying away from what I loved – who I loved. I continued this uphill trend of opportunities, and meanwhile, Cesare seemed to get worse by the week. He started falling behind in his studies, and the more he fell behind, the less motivated he was to keep going.

He started self-destructing. Especially with smoking — ‘It’s the painless way to die’, he told me. We argued a lot. We never argued before that. He told me once that he was worried he’d never be good enough for me – I told him that there wasn’t anything anyone could do, anyone, that could make that true. I remember his face as I said it; like I’d reached into his heart and pulled it out, like I’d placed a kiss on its raw flesh. Everything Caligari had done to him, everything that he’d been made to do, was finally catching up to him and he couldn’t run fast enough to escape it. I couldn’t hold that against him.

Suddenly all of our plans together seemed more distant than they were when we’d first conceived them: that somehow we’d go into business together, I’d manage a company and he’d design for it; that we’d move somewhere else altogether and finally start even fresher; that maybe we’d get married, that maybe the way we loved each other now would only grow. 

I wanted to stay, I wanted to sit with him through however long this agony would stay weighted on him like a blanket. I told him that.

“I’m not going to leave you.”

‘I know you won’t,’ he said, ‘But I want you to. I’m not getting better. I won’t be the one to bring you down with me. You deserve better than that.’

We were in bed together. Completely in bed together – vulnerable and coming down from the high. It wasn’t the first time we’d been together, but it was the last.

He was gone the next morning. His essentials were gone, his tablet was gone…The photograph of us at the fair, the first time we’d done anything outside the hospital in years, was gone. I tried filing a police report, but there was nothing they could do, he left on his own, and he’d all but told me that he would. I tried looking for him, I went to all the spots he loved: the cafe on the park corner, the library on the other side of town, the mall with the really big fountain he loved. But no matter where I looked, he wasn’t there. A part of me – however small it may have been – started to wonder if I’d made him up. That Cesare didn’t actually exist, and that he was actually some fantasy that helped me cope with everything that’d happened. That his leaving meant my mind didn’t need him anymore – after all, I was two months away from graduating, I had a full-time job at the firm waiting for me, I had friends, everything in my life seemed on the up and up. Maybe this was the final part of healing.

But Cesare was real. I knew he was. That doubt was quickly squashed. His soft curls, the feeling of his fingers between mine, the way he’d look at me whenever something stupid happened and it wasn’t appropriate to laugh, the stains of his lips on the rim of his favorite coffee mug. All of it was real. And all of it was gone. 

I graduated, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to stand next to him, I wanted to celebrate together. I focused what little energy I had on setting up my career, and looking for him however and whenever I could. Especially since I found out I was pregnant.

It was hard. It was really hard. Especially when the postpartum depression hit. But I did it. The money from my consulting job helped, but it couldn’t replace Cesare. His son looks just like him. Black baby curls, and electric blue eyes. It’s like my genes didn’t even try. He’s beautiful, and the most precious gift Cesare has ever given me. I named him Aaron.

I never stopped looking for him. But at some point, I think I realized I wasn’t going to find him. I’d hired a private investigator, and kept her on retainer, but whenever I checked in, it was always the same thing: she couldn’t find him, it was like he’d vanished without a trace. He didn’t want to be found. My only hope was that he was still alive, and that he was happy. That all that running led him to somewhere he could feel…better. Maybe not at peace, but at least better.

Some friends from the firm set me up on a date with a guy in a different department. He was sweet, conventionally handsome, he liked kids. His name was Francis. We started seeing each other more regularly, but I didn’t love him. Not the way I loved Cesare. But I figured I would never, ever love like that again. And this was what people were supposed to do…It was part of going through the motions: find a good guy, settle down. Or just settle.

Aaron was two at the time. I didn’t introduce him to Francis for a while, not until clear boundaries between us were established. Not until I really knew who he was. I asked the private investigator I’d been using to look into his background, and everything came up clean. As long as he knew that sex was off the table, and that I wasn’t going to be sharing any details about what happened to me those years ago. That Aaron wasn’t going to call him any variation of ‘Dad’. I expected him to run the other way, I’m sure a lot of men would have. But he stayed. I don’t really know why. 

We had fun. He was good for Aaron, he took him to the park on the weekends, we went to the zoo and aquarium together. He liked to cook dinner at my house, and after I put Aaron to bed, sometimes we’d stay up with some wine and watch old movies until he went home. It was everything any woman could want. Like I was living the perfect life.

Again, those thoughts crept in the back of my mind: that maybe I hadn’t left the hospital at all, that all of this was some sort of delusion created by some drug-induced stupor by Caligari. That I was lying on a gurney somewhere, being violated in who knows how many ways. 

I’d stare off into space sometimes, those doubts and worries arresting my conscious thought.

“You okay?” Francis would ask, trying to look for my eyes.

I’d snap back into reality, and nod like I always did. “Yeah – just…thoughts. Memories.”

He looked so casual, sitting there on my couch. His wine glass dangling in his hand, his other arm wrapped around the backrest, legs crossed. Like he’d never had a care in the world. I know that’s unfair. We all carry burdens, we all have demons. Some of us just have more than others. Comparison is the thief of joy, and there was a part of me that was jealous of Francis – of how carefree he seemed. How all of them seemed: my friends, my coworkers. Appearances are deceiving, but all of us strive to feel the smile we’re putting on. No matter how many, or how few, our demons are.

I called my father for the first time in over six years years. He burst into tears on the phone. In that moment, I realized there wasn’t anything he needed forgiveness for, it was just that I’d needed space. I told him I loved him, and in that, I think I forgave myself. 

He wanted to meet his three year old grandson as soon as possible, and we set up a date. I told Francis that it was something I needed to do alone. 

“If you change your mind, if you want someone to be there with you, you know you can always ask me.”

“I know,” I told him. But I had no intention of asking him.

My father was so overwhelmed with emotion when he met Aaron, he couldn’t keep his eyes off him; all he wanted to do was hold him. Aaron didn’t seem to mind. They got along like a house on fire. In them, I saw the way my father was with me when I was a child. I hoped that I could pass on the gentleness he showed me, and refrain from his mistakes – that I could always protect him, even when I couldn’t. 

“He looks just like him,” father said, and touched Aaron’s soft cheek.

“He really does. He’s got his smile, too.”

“I can see that,” he laughed, and tickled him. “Does he sleep well?” He nodded, and watched as Aaron fussed and squirmed, wanting to play on the floor; he set him down, and stroked his hair as he wandered off to another part of the room play with the books I’d brought.

“He’s a perfect sleeper – I’d expected the opposite. But so far no signs of sleep attacks.”

“Very good,” he said as he watched him. “You’ve heard nothing from him, then?”

I shook my head. “He’s gone. I think…maybe gone for good.”

“It’s not your fault, you know. There was nothing you could have done to stop him.”

“I know…I think. Even if I know it, I’m not sure I believe it. He was…really depressed, Dad. I don’t know if he’s even alive. I don’t know if he…”

“What have you told him of his father?”

“That his father is a good man. That we love each other very much. We were best friends. That he works in another country. I know it’s a lie…But I can’t bring myself to say anything else. Francis is a good man but…he’s not Cesare. He’s not his father.”

“If you’re not in love with him, you need to let him go.”

I shrugged. “He makes me laugh. He’s…stable. He’s…”

“What you should be aspiring for?”

I nodded. I didn’t realize how much I missed being understood by my father. 

He leaned back and sighed. “There are many ‘shoulds’ in life, Jane. Not all of them are worth pursuing.”

“Here I thought you were going to tell me I should just move on.”

“No. I would never tell you that. I know how much Cesare meant to you. I know how much he still does – I can see it. Have you told this ‘Francis’ about him at all?”

“No. I…haven’t spoken about him. To anyone, really. Up until now.” I felt a pain growing in my throat and I swallowed it hard. “It’s like if I don’t talk about him, then I don’t have to face the fact that he’s not here.”

He nodded again. “How you grieve his absence – I’m not saying that he’s gone…permanently – but his absence has left a wake; how you grieve that is entirely up to you. I know it’s not my place, we’ve only just begun to speak again, but I think that talking about him might help you feel more grounded.”

As much as I didn’t like the psych-speak, he was right. Stuffing it all down wasn’t helping. I decided to take up journaling. There was no way in hell I was seeing a therapist, and I still didn’t want to tell Francis about everything, even about Cesare. But I had to get it out somehow. Journaling helped with that. I had somewhere to redirect everything, somewhere I could talk about our relationship without being overanalysed.

The great thing about getting promoted is that you can dress however you want. I was made head of the consulting department and I started wearing my kimono cardigans again, rather than grey pantsuits and pencil skirts. I started feeling like myself again. 

Aaron was perfect – he loved painting, he loved reading; I taught him sign in tandem with speaking, and it was one of the best things I’d ever done in my life. He rarely fussed because he had a way to communicate what he needed, and by his fourth birthday he was a conversationalist. So curious, so gentle. Also very funny. My kid is funnier than I am. 

Francis proposed a few weeks after Aaron turned four. I hadn’t been expecting it. I know a lot of women see signs, they anticipate it, they wait for it. I didn’t know it was a step he wanted to take. I thought what we had was good – it was enough. I don’t know why I said yes. I think I kept waiting for the rush of love and excitement, I kept thinking the rose colored glasses were something that would evolve, that one day I’d wake up and be a fairytale princess. That that would be the mark of how far I’d come. 

But it never came. And I was realizing that I just had to be okay with being numb. That that was how my life was. That the part of me capable of feeling giddy and excitable was left in the halls of that hospital somewhere. That I wouldn’t feel anything different than what I did now, and that it was as good as it was going to get. 

So I said yes. And I planned a wedding. I took my father dress shopping, I chose the first one I tried on, because it looked decent on me, and the price tag didn’t make me gag. 

“Are you happy?” my father asked me.

I didn’t answer right away. I had to assess it first. But I nodded. 

“Are you…not upset?”

It was like a weight lifted off my shoulders when he said it, and I nodded again.

“Being ‘not upset’ isn’t the same thing as being happy, Jane. Happiness and contentment are emotions in and of themselves, they aren’t only the absence of conflict.”

I was still in that stupid dress. It squeezed me in all the wrong places and it looked like a fabric store puked all over it. He held me and I put my head on his shoulder. “What else am I supposed to do?”

He put his hand on my head and kissed me. “Do what will make you happiest – do what will keep you from regret.”

“Aaron – he’s so good with Aaron.”

“And so are you,” he said. “If you’re going to part ways, do it now before Aaron is older.”

He had a point, I thought. Do it now before he really understood what was happening. But I needed time to think about it. I asked the shop to put the dress on hold, and I took time to think about the ways in which I cared about Francis, and why. I told him I needed a break from planning, that I needed to close the deal I was working on first, and then I’d get back into it. He told me it wasn’t a problem. Nothing was ever a problem for him. 

It wasn’t completely a lie, I was in the process of restructuring a clothing company. There were a lot of moving parts, and I was responsible for many of them, including hiring and firing a few people; a wedding wasn’t something I wanted to think about on top of all that. 

I had a meeting with the head of the company, along with several of their department leads, and I was invited to their headquarters abroad. With their restructure they wanted to downsize their graphic design department, and it may have been my loyalty and bias, but it was one section I wanted to leave intact. The head of public relations didn’t like me because of it, I’m guessing they wanted to personally absorb the funds that would have been ‘reallocated’. But I didn’t budge. 

I visited a few times, feeling like an outsider every time. It’s one thing when your work is acknowledged as much-needed help, it’s another to be seen as an invader. I was on the verge of another anxiety episode, I could feel it. Everytime I went into that office, it felt as if eyes were watching me, like I was entering a dark, haunted forest, looking for a way out. But I was newly promoted, I couldn’t show any sign of weakness – I’d worked so hard for the job I had, that to balk and say I wasn’t up to the task wasn’t an option. I had to find a way to be okay with the stress. I had to keep going, just until the deal was done – and I could put it all behind me. 

Every day was about surviving the next. Aaron and Francis had come with me abroad, and together they went sightseeing. I told him to go without me, I didn’t want Aaron to miss out on adventures because of me. At the end of every day, the two would meet me in the lobby of the headquarters, waiting for me with the driver to take us back to the hotel we were staying at. 

I bated my impatience, the pain in my feet, and the raging headache that wanted to crack through my skull everyday, just to make sure I didn’t take it all out on Aaron. He didn’t deserve that, he didn’t know what was going on. As far as he was concerned, his mom worked in a castle, and bossed people around like a queen. He’d run up to me everyday and throw his arms out yelling ‘Mommy!’ like it was the first time he’d ever seen me. How could I be annoyed with that. I’d wrap him up in a hug, and rock him back and forth until the headache settled, and we’d all go back to the hotel. Francis was staying in a suite next to ours, and was up every morning to make sure we were ready for the day. 

“I’d like to take you to dinner tonight,” Francis said and helped me put on my cardigan.

“What’s the occasion?” 

“A celebration of your success,” he said.

I scoffed, almost unsure of myself. “I haven’t closed the deal yet. I wouldn’t celebrate too early.”

“I have every confidence in you.” 

I turned and looked at him. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you have confidence in me?”

He put his hands in his pockets, taken aback, and gathered how to answer: “You’re a strong woman, Jane. You’ve gotten through some of the worst that life has to offer, and you’ve managed to make a life for yourself. And for your son. That’s worthy of every confidence a man can muster.”

I believed him, despite myself. “Thank you,” I said, and suddenly wanted to be done with the conversation I’d started. I kissed Aaron goodbye, as he told me all about how he and Francis were going to see a tiny museum on cheeses. I only laughed, but it was almost as if I could hear Cesare laughing with me.

I used to call him Cheese. When we first met, I was doped out of my mind, barely able to hold onto what he was telling me as he introduced himself. Between the suppressants and his difficulty speaking, all I could gather about his name was that it sounded something like ‘Cheese’, and it stuck ever since. 

I carried that memory of him with me for the rest of the day. It gave me the strength to enter the building, with the knowing that I belonged there. Looking back on that time, on where we’d been – the common room of the hospital, where he finally had to spell his name out for me with a crayon – it all felt so far away, and yet it still clung to me like a sheath. 

I was still seen as enemy number one, but I had the courage to lay down the terms, and insist on what I knew was best. I was exhausted by the time the day was done, and was ready to head back to the hotel and collapse.

But as I walked through the halls, my eye was caught by someone in the distance. Their head was down, they were preoccupied with a tablet in their hands; it was a man, dressed all in black, with soft, messy hair. My mind, playing tricks on me, conjured the image of Cesare in place of this man. Until I realized – as he looked up, as I saw the sharpness of his features, the dark circles under his eyes – it was him. 

A cold chill went through me at the thought that the psychosis was back – it was always my fear, that whatever Caligari had done to me, that it’d caused a permanent change, and that remission from it would only ever be temporary. I was stressed, I was tired, it was only a figment of my imagination, a comfort to keep me sane despite the circumstances. That’s what Caligari used to tell me, as he drugged me and kept me under a haze. 

But I didn’t feel like I was under a spell. He looked real. He walked to the elevator, still looking at his tablet, only glancing up to press the down button. I found myself gravitating towards him, as if I was being pulled to him, and I thought I might wake up at any moment – that all of this would vanish –

“Cesare –” I called out to him. 

His eyesight snapped up, searching for the source of the voice that called him. A panic seemed to grip his face, what little color was in his face drained, and his bright blue eyes darted this way and that – until he saw me –

“Jane!” he dropped his tablet, and pushed through the people alarmed at his sudden speech. Water was already lining his eyes as he stood in front of me, and he took my arms and held me, touching me, my face, my hair, my hands – the same as I was doing to him, both of us trying to make sense of what we were seeing. He picked me up and swung me around, his face buried in my shoulder. “Jane…” he said again, the breath taken from him, he was shaking, suddenly overwhelmed. ‘I’m sorry…’ he attempted to say over and over again. 

I shook my head, holding his face in my hands. “You’re alive – you’re alive.” No one else existed at that moment except for us. We could have been standing in an empty room, without eyes that watched us, that puzzled and wondered, or that judged. It was just us. All we saw was each other. 

‘I’m alive – I’m alive now,’ he said through shaking hands and tearful sounds. ‘I’m alive now that you’re here. I never should have left. Forgive me.’ He brought my hands to his lips and kissed them. “I love you,” he said.

My fingers fanned out to caress his features, and he took my face in his and kissed me. Damn who saw, or what they thought. It was a moment that felt more real than life, and sweeter than any dream. He took my hand afterwards, and guided me to the elevator where he retrieved his tablet, and pressed the down button again – rapidly.

‘What are you doing here? Tell me everything,’ he said, still shaking. ‘Come home with me, I promise I’ll explain everything.’

“Hans!” his boss called from behind us. “Where are you going? What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

‘I’m going home,’ he signed, and quickly got into the elevator the second it rang, with me in tow.

“I’ve looked for you – for so long, everywhere,” I told him.

‘I changed my name. I moved to a different country. I was running. From myself. From everything.’ 

My hands went to his face again, brushing the hair from his eyes, seeing what new little lines made their impressions in his rough skin. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

He sighed and made a diffident shrug and half nod. ‘I found something different. But the same. I needed to get my head right. I looked you up –’

“Oh, you did. Cesare – there’s something you need to know –”

‘I think I just got myself fired for kissing and kidnapping the consulting guru,’ he laughed. ‘I saw how successful you were. I debated whether to reach out to you, but I didn’t want to take away from all that you’d worked for.’

“You could never take anything away from me. You’ve given me everything.”

‘I hate myself for leaving. For being a coward. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness – and try to make up for the time I’ve wasted.’

“Cesare – “ I took him by the arms, trying desperately to get out the truth before the bell rung and the doors opened, but it was too late. 

He looked at me, curious at my forcefulness, and furrowed as we shuffled out of the elevator to allow another patron to take our place. His hands were about to ask me what was wrong, when the sound of running footsteps caught his attention.

“Mommy!” Aaron sprinted towards me, arms outstretched waiting for me to pull him into an embrace, just like I always did.

I did it instinctually, but my voice shook as I spoke. “Hi, baby.”

Cesare was as pale as a ghost. It looked like the wind could’ve blown right through him. He froze, motionless, unable to take his eyes off of Aaron. He finally looked at me, and he knew. I didn’t have to say a word. It was as clear as day. I was holding his son.

Francis wasn’t far behind, but his pace lightly quickened when he saw the tension that began to grow and move between me and the man standing next to me as we exited the elevator – as my hands released their grip on him, and held my son instead. The picture Francis was seeing was vastly different from the truth, but I couldn’t say I blamed him for his desire to protect me and Aaron from a potential conflict.

“We need to talk,” I told Cesare.

He was still frozen there, watching the face of his son stare back at him.

“Hey, babe,” Francis came on the other side of me and put his hand on my back. “You ready to get going?” he looked at the man beside me and started to put together pieces of his own.

It took me a while to find my voice, but I nodded. “Yes – why don’t you and Aaron get a head start to the car.” I set him down and ushered them onward.

“I can wait here for you,” Francis said, still watching Cesare with a sharp eye.

“No –” I looked up at him. “I need you to wait for me at the car.”

Out of all the times I needed him to trust me, I needed it to be then. And he did, for the most part. “Alright, we’ll be outside. C’mon, buddy,” he picked Aaron up and walked out of the building; but I could see him waiting just outside the door, not in the car. Waiting in case he needed to intervene. 

I can’t imagine what it must’ve looked like to him. Watching the two of us sign back and forth frantically, arguing and despairing behind the soundless glass.

Dinner was cancelled. Francis brought over take out and a bottle of wine after I put Aaron to sleep in the bedroom of the hotel suite. I couldn’t sleep, something told me Cesare couldn’t either. It’s like I could feel both of us awake in different parts of the city, sitting motionless, ruminating and contemplating. I was afraid he would leave again.

“Do you want me to call the police?” Francis asked after we’d finished dinner, after half the bottle was gone. He was careful with how he said it, real quiet, as if he didn’t want to startle me.

I was surprised nonetheless. “What? No, why?”

“It must have been hard to see him again.”

“It was. Really hard. But…why would you call the police?”

“He’s Aaron’s father, isn’t he? The man…who hurt you?”

I took a breath and poured another drink. “No. Cesare would never hurt me. He’s never hurt me. Cesare was also…a patient,” I said and poured a little extra.

“But he is his father.”

“Yes.”

He nodded and poured another drink for himself, too. He hesitated a moment as he leaned back, but he decided to speak anyway: “What happened, Jane? I know I promised I’d never ask – and I haven’t. But today was…different. Today changes a few things.”

“It does,” I said. “It changes a lot.” He waited for me to answer. It took me a long time. There was so much to say, so many things I deliberated on whether or not I should share, in the end I just told the truth:

“He protected me,” I said. “He’d been there, at the hospital, longer than I had, since he was a child. Since the car accident that killed his parents. He was there, in the car when they were killed. That’s when he lost his voice. He was transferred to a psychiatric facility after he was given a clean bill of health by the hospital. Mutism wasn’t well understood, it still isn’t. I always thought there was a physical component as to why he couldn’t speak, on top of the emotional; that maybe the accident damaged his ability to speak, and that maybe that’s where his narcolepsy came from, too — that, and the post traumatic stress. But he never told me. I’m not sure he really knew, either. The pediatricians thought he would heal better in a safer environment, I guess – and he didn’t have any other remaining family. Doctor Caligari came highly recommended, he was supposedly a pioneer in his field. It seemed like a good fit. 

“We were in our teens when we met. We were the same age. I started seeing…the Doctor in one-on-one sessions because of my anxiety. I was going off to college in a few years and my father wanted me to have additional support. He knew Caligari. They’d worked together in the past. What neither of us knew was that he was drugging me, little by little, with the medications he prescribed. He gave them to me with the intention of causing side effects. To make me crazier than I was already. No – I…I wasn’t crazy. Not at first. I was a teenager. Scared. Normal. I wasn’t crazy.

“But that didn’t last, I guess. The side effects induced psychosis. I was unstable. And at Caligari’s recommendation, my father agreed to send me to his psychiatric facility. I begged him not to. But he trusted him to do the right thing. It wasn’t his fault.

“I spent years there. So had everyone else. Some survived, some didn’t. Caligari liked us both – but Cesare was his favorite. He had…a particular interest in the science of sleep, and the power of suggestion. Cesare was a narcoleptic and a sleepwalker. He liked seeing how much he could get Cesare to do when he was asleep. What, exactly, he could get him to do. Anything from violence to sex. He’d use him as a research subject on sleepwalking and narcolepsy, and then publish the research under the pretense of using lab animals.

“I think he kept me because he liked the power of having his friend’s daughter held captive, without him knowing. It made him feel powerful. He…did things. But Cesare did what he could to protect me, to keep Caligari’s eye off of me and onto him, instead. Cesare wanted to protect me because he respected me – he liked that I didn’t want him to change, he liked that I understood him. A lot of people get frustrated with his inability to speak, or they don’t try as hard as they could to understand what he’s trying to communicate. It was never an issue for me. I didn’t mind taking the time to listen and learn what he was saying. He taught me how to sign. We spent a lot of time together, a lot of time. We loved each other. There wasn’t any doubt of it.

“Caligari kept me as drugged and docile as possible so that I couldn’t call for help. I tried – more than once. Sometimes he would let my father see me, the two of us partitioned between glass. He wanted to taunt my father without him knowing. It was all just a power play. I tried to tell my father what was happening, but he didn’t believe me at first. Caligari had ruined my credibility so thoroughly that my father tried to calm me down by saying ‘it would be a difficult adjustment, but that everything would be okay in the end.’

“But years passed and I was only getting worse, and Caligari wouldn’t let my father see me anymore, until he insisted. I begged him for help one more time. I knew it would be my last. I don’t know if he believed me completely, but he knew something was wrong. He told Caligari he was going to start motions to get me released. But he couldn’t let that happen.

“He sent Cesare after me. In his sleep. Instructed him to kill me in the night while he had me drugged and restrained. Had I been anyone else, I know he would’ve done it. But he loved me. 

“I watched him – there, but not present – as he came over me with a knife in his hand, ready to kill me. He had no idea what he was doing. But something inside his eyes – still dead asleep –, it clicked when he saw me. And he dropped the knife. He became frantic, and I tried to calm him down, so that Caligari wouldn’t hear him. We had a very small window, I thought, where maybe we could escape. 

“He obeyed me instantly. And I realized I had immense power over him. Because he loved me. I instructed him to undo my restraints, and that we would run together – but it had to be quick. He again obeyed me, and as I started to stand, I realized I wasn’t going to make it. Caligari had pumped me with enough tranquilizers that I wouldn’t be able to move while Cesare killed me, but that I’d be awake enough to feel it. I wasn’t able to run. I shook Cesare until he woke, I begged him to run without me.

“By the time he realized what was happening, that we had an opportunity to disappear, he told me he’d rather die with me than leave without me. He wasn’t leaving me behind, he said. He carried me, dragged me, pulled me until we were on the outside grounds of the facility. 

“Caligari quickly realized his plan had failed. He set dogs on us, but Cesare never stopped running, he never stopped carrying me and pulling me with him. It caused a terrible commotion. The alarms went off, the security was sent out to find us. Other patients started revolting. A fire broke out in the riot – it was the middle of the night, but I still remember the flames were as bright as the sun. We ran until we couldn’t anymore. I still have the scars on my leg from where I was bitten by one of the dogs. 

“The fire department came, we heard the sirens coming up the road. When they saw the state we were in, they took us to the hospital. When they put out the fire, all of Caligari’s research was exposed. He’d attempted to flee, but when an investigation was opened, it didn’t take long to find him. They caught him trying to leave the country. 

“Cesare and I recuperated at the hospital together. One of the last things I remember from that night is reaching out to him on the gurney next to mine – trying to see his face past both of our oxygen masks. The next thing I remember after that is him sitting next to me in the hospital courtyard a week later. I remember the way the flowers looked – more vibrant than I’d ever seen them, the sky more blue than I ever noticed; I remember seeing his face, as if there was a film that’d been removed from my eyes. He looked cleaner, crisper, his skin more porcelain than grey, his hair brighter and looser, rather than dull and flat. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I knew I’d love him in every lifetime, no matter when, no matter where.

“There was a trial. Cesare and I both had to testify. I didn’t think it was fair. We’d already been through so much, and we were asked to give even more. Cesare had to fight for an interpreter, and I offered to do it, but they needed an official neutral interpreter, which we had to wait for.

“My father wanted me to stay with him, but I told him no. I was too angry at the time. He paid for an apartment of my choosing instead. He just wanted me to be safe. I think he was trying to make up for everything. Cesare had nowhere to go, and I invited him to stay with me at that apartment, I’d gotten a two bedroom for us. He didn’t want to impose at first – he didn’t want his presence to bring up anything I wanted to forget. I told him I never wanted to forget him, and he agreed. It was awkward at first, we kept to ourselves, not really sure what to do, how to be. But we just needed time to unravel all the wrapped steel that’d been sheathed around us. Until we were left exposed: just ourselves. Things became more natural after that. We fell in love all over again. It was like getting a second chance. But we all heal differently.

“After the trial, we were awarded a settlement. We used it to go to school together. And in the fourth year, two months before we graduated, Cesare left. He had become extremely depressed. He didn’t want to ruin my opportunity for a better life, he said. He didn’t want to weigh me down. But I would’ve carried him, the way he carried me.

“Aaron is so much like his father,” I sniffed and tried to keep my tears at bay. “Not just the way he looks, but his heart. He’s gentle, kind, smart, like all the best parts of us both. I looked for him for so long. But…I guess he didn’t want to be found. I guess he wasn’t ready.”

“Did he know you were pregnant when he left?” Francis asked.

“No. I didn’t know either. But I know that if he’d known he never would have left.” I swallowed, my breath hot and wet. “Today was the first time we’d seen each other since then. We spent more time together than apart, and it felt like no time had gone by at all. He looked happy.” I tried to hide the shaking in my voice.

I could see him referring to the events earlier in the day: the look of shock on Cesare’s face, the desperation in the way we communicated, my doubt of Francis’ confidence and love. He knew I didn’t belong to him, that I never had – that even though we’d been parted, I’d always belonged to Cesare.

He thought carefully, and finished his glass. “You two set up a time to talk?”

“Not exactly. I’m afraid he’ll run. Again.” I finished my own and stared at the droplets of red that gathered at the bottom. 

“He won’t,” he said.

“How do you know that?”

“He sounds like a smart man. He knows what he’s lost. He won’t risk losing it again.”

“You have a lot of faith in people,” I said.

“I have faith in good people,” he answered and looked at me. He set his glass down and stood, he held out his hand and helped me to my feet, where he held my arms. “You are a good woman, Jane. You always have been. No matter what’s happened to you. It doesn’t change that. It doesn’t change who you are.” He kissed my temple, and when I looked at him as he pulled away I saw a sadness in him that I’d never seen before. “I would have loved you,” he said.

“I know.”

Francis left my hotel suite, and I heard him shut himself into his own. I still couldn’t sleep. I lay on the couch, watching the morning sun come through the edges of the curtains. I could feel Cesare doing the same somewhere far away. 

I was woken by two little hands on my face. 

“Hi, Mama,” Aaron’s sweet voice called me. 

“Hi, baby,” I brushed his hair out of his face. “Mama’s staying home today,” my voice was still muffled with stuffed and swollen sinuses from the crying I’d done in the night. “Want to do something fun?”

‘Yes, fun,’ he signed with his little smile.

“You wanna watch movies and eat popcorn?”

“Movies and candy,” he giggled.

Oh, what the hell, I thought. “Alright, but good food first for breakfast.”

We stayed home and watched adventures, and ordered room service for snacks. Francis came by for lunch and brought us something healthier to eat than chocolate. He stayed to play with Aaron; that sadness was still there on his face, and it looked as though he would miss my son. He was better to me than I deserved, especially since he knew my heart had never been invested in the relationship he wanted so badly with me. It hadn’t been fair to him, and I realized my father was right. I should have let him go sooner.

He didn’t stay long, but told me he would bring by dinner as well. Despite the fact that I wasn’t in love with him, I appreciated that he didn’t bolt, that he planned to stay at the hotel for the duration of my visit, and that we’d figure everything else out when we returned home. I didn’t know what I was going to do. But it was nice to not think about the past or the future that day, and instead just be present with my son while we enjoyed ourselves. I was luckier than most. And I was luckier, still, than most patients who escaped Caligari, and all of them who couldn’t. I try to be ever cognizant of that. 

The day was winding into evening, and dinnertime was approaching. I was sitting on the couch with Aaron, while we joked and told stories, while he showed me the souvenir he got from the cheese museum. There was a knock at the door, and I told him to wash up for dinner.

I opened the door. 

Cesare was on the other side of it.

He was trying not to shake visibly, but he was failing; I could see the trembling in his clothes, in his hair, the water along the lashes of his eyes. I could see it, because I instantly felt the same. 

“Cesare…” I gravitated towards him, and quickly stepped aside. “Come in.”

He did as asked. He was holding with him a flower stalk and a plain blue gift bag. But when he stepped inside my suite, he suddenly seemed unsure of what to do with himself and his offerings. He stood in the center of the living room, noting the children’s toys on the coffee table, the mess from the afternoon’s snacks and litter. His eyes, wide and pale, finally turned and found mine. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt,’ he signed, and found himself having walked in a stiff circle. 

“You didn’t,” I said. “We were…” I trailed off, not sure what to say. “Dinner should be here soon.”

He nodded. Then looked around again, noting the absence of his son. ‘Where is he?’

“He’s washing up. He’s in the bathroom.”

He nodded again. ‘I wanted to apologise for making a scene yesterday,’ he started, and approached me; he handed me the flowers: a stalk of baby’s breath. ‘I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.’

“You reacted the way anyone would.” I took the flowers and held them to my heart. “I should have been quicker to say something.”

He shook his head. ‘That fault isn’t on you. That fault is mine.’ He handed me the gift bag; a plain, soft teddy bear was inside of it. ‘I should leave…I didn’t mean to interrupt,’ he said again.

“Please don’t –” I stopped him. 

‘I don’t want to interrupt dinner with your fiance.’

“He’s not my fiance. Not anymore. He…never really was.”

Cesare didn’t move. 

Neither did I.

He couldn’t stop the tears anymore, and they were flowing freely down his face. ‘I want to be here – I want to be with you. I want…to be with him. I didn’t know – I didn’t know –’

I set the flowers and bag down and held his face and brushed away the tears, helpless to my own. “I know.”

‘But I know now – But you’re getting married –’

“I’m not getting married,” I told him again. “I told Francis. I told him everything.”

‘Everything?’

I nodded. “Everything.”

He relaxed into my touch, and placed his hands on mine as he sighed, looking into my eyes. I felt the rush of all the time we’d spent apart in his eyes; I felt him reach his soul into mine, reaching out to me, hoping I’d reach back. ‘Take me wherever you go. Take me. I don’t want to let go this time. I won’t let go.’ He brushed away my tears.

‘I won’t let go,’ I signed back. 

Cesare choked back a sob and smiled. I hadn’t seen him smile since before he left. It had been so long. He gathered himself, and tempered his tears as he motioned to the other room. ‘What is his name? ’

“His name is Aaron,” I told him, and showed him the sign I made for his name. “He’s perfect,” the rush of adrenaline and quiet sobbing came out as shuddering laughter. 

‘Of course he is,’ he said, ‘he’s yours.’

“He’s ours.” I spoke and I signed, needing him to know its weight and tenderness.

He cupped my face and kissed my head, trying desperately to contain his emotion. 

“Mama!” Aaron called as he ran out of the suite bedroom and showed me his clean hands. 

I fixed my face quickly, and Cesare turned to do the same, wanting to make a good first impression for his son. 

“Aaron,” I called him over and kissed his fingers. “Do you remember me telling you that Dad works in another country?” He nodded, sceptical, looking from me to the tall figure behind me who was still turned away from us. “Well, Dad doesn’t need to live in that country anymore. Dad can come home now. Dad is home now.”

“Is he Dad?” he asked, trying to see what he looked like, to compare him to photographs I’d shown him.

“Yes he is, that’s Dad.”

Cesare turned around, gathering his courage, and knelt to Aaron’s level. He looked at me, hoping I would translate, but was surprised when Aaron signed to him first. 

Aaron tapped him on the arm and called his attention. “Where did you go?” he spoke and signed.

The relief on Cesare’s face was palpable when he realized that he’d be able to communicate with his son. But a perplexity took it over quickly when he also realized he didn’t have an answer. He glanced to me again, unsure of what to tell him. ‘I had a lot of work I needed to do,’ he signed, unconfident. ‘But I’m done now. I can be with you and Mom forever now. I don’t ever need to leave again.’

Aaron looked at him, taking in his face, looking him over. When he seemed satisfied enough — that the man in front of him looked just like the man from the framed photographs at home, and the photo albums on my bookshelves — he accepted what he saw as truth. “You look like Dad in the pictures,” he smiled and touched his face.

He nodded happily. ‘Yes! I’m Dad – I’m your Dad.’ I’d never seen him smile so big, I’d never seen him so happy. 

Aaron threw his arms around him, and squeezed so tight I thought they’d both explode.

Cesare wrapped his arms around his son and kissed his head. He rocked him back and forth, nestling his face on his soft baby hair. 

There was another knock at the door, and I went to answer it. I dried my face as best as I could, knowing it was useless anyway. 

It was Francis this time, with the dinner he’d promised. He greeted me with a gentleness, but quickly saw past me and into the suite. He saw Cesare and Aaron in an embrace, how happy they were.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said and handed me the bag, with that sadness still on his face. 

“Francis –” I stopped him. “Thank you.”

He took my hand and kissed it. “Be good to yourself, Jane. You’re too hard on yourself. You deserve better than that.” He began to walk away. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. 

Cesare heard Francis at the door, and reluctantly released his son and stood. ‘I’ll be right back,’ he told me, and followed him out into the hallway.

“Where’s Dad going?”

“He’s going to tell Francis thank you,” I said.

“Francis brought dinner now?”

“Yes he did. He’s very kind, isn’t he?” 

“Yeah, Francis is nice. Is he going to have dinner, too?”

“No. Dinner will just be you, me, and Dad tonight.”

“I’m happy Dad is back now.”

“Me, too, baby.”

I set the table and watched them through a mirror hung in the hallway as Cesare ran after Francis. He caught up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He began to sign, but was interrupted –

“I’m sorry, I don’t know any sign language.”

Cesare pulled out his phone instead and typed: ‘Thank you. For taking care of my son. And the woman I love. Thank you isn’t enough.’

“It’s plenty. She’s a good woman. And you’ve got yourself a good kid.” I wondered if that was Francis’ subtle way of admonishing him for his supposed abandonment. 

But Cesare didn’t seem to take it that way. They exchanged pleasantries, and he came back into the suite to share dinner. Aaron clung to him the entire time and asked a million questions, each of which his father answered patiently and as best as he could. I tried to keep his routine as best as possible, but he was wired with excitement and emotion; so after bathtime the three of us went to the bedroom and continued to talk until Aaron was too tired to stay awake. I tucked him in as he fell asleep, and Cesare and I moved to the living room; we talked all night, the pair of us were emotionally spent. But happy.

We talked about all the plans we used to have – how they changed, how they stayed the same. We still wanted to work together. He loved what he did, and I loved having a position that gave me more flexibility. We still wanted to get married.

‘Do you want more kids?’ he asked me; we were sitting on the couch, his arm around me, his long legs propped on the coffee table.

“No – definitely not,” I laughed. “One is enough.”

He chuckled. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s perfect. It’s just…hard.”

‘I’m here now. You’re not alone.’

I curled closer into him, as if I could crawl into the space between his ribs and lie there. 

‘I hope you didn’t have any difficulties with the pregnancy. I hope you had help.’

“No. I was okay. After he was born was a different story, though. I was lucky to have some friends from the company, older women who knew what I was going through, they helped me. They got me through a lot. Once was enough for that, too.” But I stopped, overcome with a feeling and a memory.

He felt me squirm, and he looked at me. ‘What’s wrong?’

“It’s just…I guess it hasn’t only been once.”

‘What do you mean?’

“At the hospital…There was a time I thought I might’ve been pregnant. But I wasn’t sure. I was so nauseous all the time. I thought it might’ve been the drugs he was giving me at the time. He’d just switched them to something else. But I just wasn’t sure.”

‘Did you have your period?’

“It was really late. That’s why I thought I’ve might’ve…”

He stopped and thought for a while, and I suddenly regretted saying anything at all. I felt like an idiot to overwhelm him. But we’d always been able to talk about everything together, especially memories – things that we’d forgotten, and suddenly remembered. By habit, I went back into that dynamic almost immediately. But he didn’t stop me.

‘By him, or by me?’ he asked.

I shook my head. “I wasn’t sure.”

He nodded, and held me closer. I felt a tension in his chest, and he looked away; I could see the strain in the muscles of his jaw – he was angry. But his hand was still gentle around me as he stroked my shoulder. 

I knew he wasn’t angry at me, but at the past – all of it. I still felt bad for saying anything.

He turned back to me, with a scoff and a brow raised with disgust. ‘It was probably the medication. If you’d been pregnant, he would’ve kept the baby and done something to it.’

I scoffed with him and looked up at him. “I hate that you’re right.” 

He kissed the top of my head. ‘We are going to be okay now,’ he said. ‘I know it. We have control of our lives. More than we ever have before.’ He paused and sighed. ‘I never should have left –’

“Cesare –”

He stopped me. ‘I never should have left. But I’m more capable now than I was. No matter what happens – all of the good, and all of the…not so good – you won’t be alone anymore. You never were. I’ve always been here. And I always will be.’ He brushed a tear from my face.

I nodded, feeling that pain in my throat again.

‘I’ve faced hell with you. I’ve done my time in purgatory. I’m ready to face heaven with you, too.’

I held onto him, my legs over his now, my hands gripped into his shirt. I didn’t want to let him go. And I didn’t have to.

He held me the whole night. 

He stayed there with us at the hotel for the remainder of our stay. They tried to fire him for kissing and kidnapping the consulting guru, but I didn’t let that happen. He quit anyway – he wanted a different job, he said, something not so corporate and soulless. Something where he could really stretch his creative legs, without so many bosses and rules hanging over his head. 

After I finished closing the restructuring deal, we worked out the logistics of him moving back with me. I had a large house back home, and there would be enough space for all three of us to have separate rooms. With my connections, he could have any graphic design job he wanted. He said he wanted to work from home. It was better for his mental health, and better for my schedule. He could bond with Aaron, and I didn’t have to worry about picking him up after preschool or kindergarten. It was like we fit together seamlessly – like we were better for each other than we had been before. 

I told Aaron that Francis and I weren’t going to be going to be seeing each other anymore, but that he was still a good and kind person. The last time I saw Francis was at the airport when we got home, when we all parted ways. He asked to be transferred to a different location of the company, I think it was for the best, really. My life was turned right side up, but his was turned upside down. I never meant to hurt him. 

My life started over, better than it had been – better than it had ever been. The way it was supposed to be. Cesare and Aaron became closer than I could have hoped. Aaron brought out a side in him that granted him permission to play and enjoy life. It allowed him to give himself, in a way, all of the things that he was denied as a child.

Cesare still has the occasional cigarette, but not for the same reasons, and only when he gets really stressed, like with a deadline at work. Or when Aaron started sleepwalking. That scared him. It scared me, too, but not as bad as it did him. Aaron had just started kindergarten and had stressors of his own, which I guess triggered the genetic component of sleepwalking. 

“Most kids grow out of it,” I reassured him. 

‘I didn’t,’ he half signed with a cigarette in one hand.

“Who knows what he did to keep you that way. Besides you haven’t had an episode in a long time, right?”

He nodded, and took another drag. He kept the cigarette between his lips as he signed: ‘I’m always afraid of what’s going to happen when I go to sleep. I don’t want him to feel the same way.’

“He won’t,” I said. “Even if he doesn’t grow out of it, he doesn’t have the same history we do. Your fear will not be his.” I touched his arms, and brushed his hair from his face. “He has two parents who love him very much, who would do anything for him, and who can provide for his every need. That’s half the battle. He will be okay. Because we’ll make sure of it.”

I felt him start to relax, and he removed the cigarette from his lips before he took a deep breath of cleaner air. He looked at me, into my eyes, and he knew I was right. He nodded.

“We will be okay. Because we can make sure of it now.”

He nodded again, and this time pulled me to his chest. 

“We’ll be okay.” This time, I finally believed it. 

So did he.

I got to go wedding dress shopping again. This time with both my father and Aaron. I chose the sixth dress I tried on, something that felt loose and that I could move in; it had a beautiful gauze train. I felt like a bride – like a queen. I felt like myself. Aaron and my father’s excitement solidified my choice, and the price wasn’t too bad, either.

We got married in a park, just the three of us, and my father. We didn’t need anything else. Just the people who loved us. Just each other.

He was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen: elegant and bright, in his black tuxedo and with his beaming smile when I came down the aisle. He dipped me when we kissed. It’s my favorite photograph of us. 

We have movie nights, and we cook together. We bicker about which pasta sauce to get at the store, and which is the right way to fold a fitted sheet. He helps Aaron with his homework, and picks him up from school. I bring them to company parties, and introduce them as my husband and my son. And every time I do it, I have to try not to cry. 

My house became a home, and the three of us created a routine that worked well for all of our needs: we have separate rooms, we have a no screens after eleven policy; we limit alcohol, and we give each other space when we’re overwhelmed. Because we still have our struggles – God knows we’ll have post-traumatic stress for the rest of our lives. The trick is working with it, not trying to get rid of it. And not taking it out on our son.

We discussed – at length – getting Aaron therapy for all of the change in his life, and eventually we found someone we trusted. We read so many reviews. 

‘If only online reviews had been a thing back then,’ Cesare joked.

I laughed. “I think you just dated yourself.” But it felt good to hear him say ‘back then’, to rub the salve of humor on something that we could acknowledge as being in the past.

Everyone heals at different rates. But it doesn’t mean healing doesn’t happen at all. Sometimes it just takes time. And patience. And a lot of change. 

Aaron is eleven now. He’s starting junior high school soon. He’s going to be as tall as his father, I can tell already. He likes going with us to buy new eyeshadow palettes, and he doesn’t care that his father and I share clothes. He likes wearing kimonos, too. And he wears eyeliner like his father. He’s bright, and compassionate; he’s creative, and he’s never known pain. That’s all I could possibly ask for.

We’re an odd little family. We look different, we sound different – our roles are different. But it doesn’t matter. Because we’re happy. And we’re together. 

And that’s what counts.

[rhadinesthes]

Top 3 Depeche Mode & Ghost songs?

Ooh, thanks for this. I'll try not to go on too long.

Ghost:

Square Hammer [The first song of theirs I heard. I just played it from a YouTube rec for the hell of it, and I was NOT ready for it to be such a damn BANGER.]

Dance Macabre (specifically Carpenter Brut's remix) [The second song of theirs I heard. I kinda only played it 'cause I also like Carpenter Brut. No regrets; it's amazing.]

Respite on the Spitalfields [I'll probably be sobbing to this at the show this fall as I ascend this mortal frame. We will go softly into the night.]

Depeche Mode:

Halo [HALO, HALO, HALO. Oh I love this song so much. It's utterly criminal that it languished in my "songs to get" spreadsheet for more than a decade. I'm so sorry, guys.]

Lilian [Pain and misery always hit the spot Knowing you can't lose what you haven't got Those two lines are the Platonic Form of Depeche Mode to me.]

Wrong [I have some pretty clear memories associated with this one. I'm also fairly certain it's the first song of theirs that I added to my collection.]

(Ghost was easy, but I had to think a bit about Depeche Mode. There are so many close contenders for third.)

[oleslu]

5, 15 and 22 for the asks:)

5. What is your favourite music?

I find myself enjoying new wave, post-punk music a lot! The cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Depeche mode, the smiths etc. Outside of that Conan Gray is def my #1 artist, and I listen a lot to Bowie, Hozier, Melanie Martinez and Ghost! Taylor and Lana too ofc

15. What are your top three favourite books and why?

Pride and prejudice, I don't really know how to explain why but I think Darcy is enough of a reason! The book was also very interesting and it completes that beautiful movie well!

Mo dao zu shi, I know it is now out in multiple books but mo dao is actually one big book that is very long. Mdzs has been a big part of my life even before the marauders, I've been in the fandom since 2017 and it just has a big place in my heart. The whole story is just so beautifully written and there are no flaws in the plot at all, I've read the book multiple times and watched the Donghua and the live action at least 10 times too!! Wangxian just has that effect, my OTP really

The third book would be the second book of acotar, acomaf. I know that series got mixed reviews but honestly Im easy to please and hot fictional characters get me, Rhysand got me blushing and kicking my feet, and Feyre too. I just love the second one because it's when things really get interesting!

22. If you could witness any event of the past, present or future, what would it be?

Big broad question I had to think a lot about, I would love to go see a Bowie show in the past, I'm really disappointed I will never see him so definitely that. I would also like to go to my childhood to see events that happened since I have almost no memory of it and seeing my grandpa again would be very dear to me.

[tcm]

Julien Temple Musicals: ABSOLUTE BEGINNERS (’86) and EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY (’88) By Raquel Stecher

Director Julien Temple has built his filmmaking career showcasing creative types. Musicians are his forte, although he’s also made films about poets, filmmakers and other artists. Best known for his music videos, he’s directed artists such as the Rolling Stones, Depeche Mode, Whitney Houston, Janet Jackson, Billy Idol, Van Halen and Paul McCartney. He became interested in filmmaking when he discovered the work of French filmmaker Jean Vigo, whom he would later direct a biopic about. He began working alongside the Sex Pistols and made his debut feature film The Great Rock ’N’ Roll Swindle (’80) about the band’s tumultuous break-up.

Temple had a front row seat at a time when music was revolutionizing culture but was also interested in how the music of the past influenced the present. Among his films are two outliers, a pair of films inspired by Temple’s love of Hollywood musicals: ABSOLUTE BEGINNERS (’86) and EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY (’88). An homage to the early days of rock ‘n’ roll, ABSOLUTE BEGINNERS was an adaptation of Colin MacInnes’ 1959 novel. Set in 1958 during the time of the Notting Hill race riots, it explores the cultural revolution of the time, when jazz was falling out of favor, rock ‘n’ roll was making a scene and teenagers were being recognized as a major influence on popular culture. Eddie O’Connell stars as Colin, a photographer who falls in love with fashion designer Crepe Suzette (Patsy Kensit) and gets caught up in the local music scene. The film features performances by Sade and Davide Bowie, two musicians Temple had previous directed music videos for.

According to the website Supajam, ABSOLUTE BEGINNERS was at the time “the most expensive British film ever made.” When the shooting wrapped, Temple was fired. He had no involvement with the final editing, which was handled by three different editors. The end result was a musical that strayed from Temple’s vision. In an interview, Temple called the production “a half-nightmare, half-dream” and said that he wishes it would have come out differently. The film was a flop and bankrupted British movie studio Goldcrest Film International. Temple goes on to say in his interview with Supajam, “It was strange being accused of destroying the British film industry… for many decades, it seemed to be circling Pluto, but it seems to have made its way a bit closer back towards Earth these days.”

The film caught the eye of Michael Jackson and Janet Jackson. Temple is quoted as saying, “It turned out the Jackson family were fans, particularly Michael and Janet, who used to copy the dance sequences as it played on their cinema screen.” Temple went on to direct two music videos for Janet Jackson. “When I Think of You” pays homage to ABSOLUTE BEGINNERS urban setting and “Alright” is a throwback to the golden era of Hollywood musicals and features cameos by the Nicholas Brothers, Cab Calloway and Cyd Charisse.

When Temple left the UK to work in the US, he made another go at the musical feature film with EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY (’88). This science fiction romantic comedy musical hybrid starred then real-life couple Geena Davis and Jeff Goldblum in their third picture together. Written by Julie Brown, Terrence E. McNally and Charlie Coffey, the story follows California girl Valerie (Geena Davis) who, in the midst of romantic turmoil, is visited by three furry aliens: Jeff Goldblum, Jim Carrey and Damon Wayans. The aliens are given a makeover to best resemble humans and they cause a ruckus in the Valley with their new look. 

The movie is chock full of 1980s esthetics and slang, making it a nostalgic delight for anyone who lived through, or just loves, that era. It even includes a cameo by the mysterious lady in pink Angelyne, who was herself a precursor to today’s celebrity influencers. The film also serves as a throwback to 1950s science fiction films like Forbidden Planet (’56) and Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (’56). The trio of aliens learn human behavior and language from watching classics on television like Gun Fury (’53), Rebel Without a Cause (’55) and The Nutty Professor (’63).

Given his newfound reputation, Temple had a difficult time finding a studio or production company for the film. Warner Bros., MGM, 20th Century-Fox and New World Pictures all expressed interest but eventually turned it down. It was picked up by De Laurentiis Entertainment Group, which was set to distribute, but they filed for bankruptcy shortly after filming. The movie didn’t make a splash at the time, however it’s gone on to earn the cult classic status it so rightly deserves. EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY served as the inspiration for the Britney Spears and Iggy Azalea music video for “Pretty Girls” released in 2015.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader 

Chapter 5 - A Question of Trust 

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 

Summary: First day in New York brings new challenges and fears. But one thing is certain, your relationship with Neil is changing.

Warnings: Minor cursing.

Author’s Notes: So this is sort of an unplanned early update because I loved what I wrote and had to share it with you. Hope you enjoy this quieter chapter before things kick off very soon...

Also this has been severely inspired by ‘A Question of Lust’ by Depeche Mode so I’ll post the link in another post!

Despite being severely jet-lagged, the next two days, you did not get much rest. You and Neil were thoroughly briefed by the TP on Saturday, and the plan seemed simple: arrive in New York; check into the hotel; research the target (a weapons dealer named Steiner); set up a meeting with Mr. Steiner; rehearse the cover; get intel; leave New York unscathed but with valuable information.

You have received a Glock (just in case), a burner phone with emergency contacts, and a dossier filled with the information about your cover. As far as you have managed to learn so far, you and Neil were supposed to pose as ‘partners in crime’ hoping to get your hands on the mysterious nuclear material. It did seem easy. But that did not help the stress you felt the closer you got to the departure.

Monday morning, you stepped onto the Amtrak train to New York Penn Station and followed Neil to the First-Class compartment. You had two seats with a large table and a window in a relatively quiet carriage. This time, sadly, you have not taken your notes with you and have been desperately looking for a distraction. Neither of you has mentioned the moment on the terrace, and you felt like it was a cause of mild tension. But instead of addressing it in any way, you decided to stare out of the window. After going through the same onboard magazine for the third time, you heard Neil clear his voice deliberately. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow:

“I’m bored” he shrugged and grinned at your eye roll “Want to talk?”

You searched his face for any signs of wicked intents. But he seemed genuinely interested.

“As long as you won’t make me drink again and embarrass myself” you turned towards him with a pointed look.

“I promise” he smiled and leaned onto the table separating your seats 

“However I must correct you and say that you haven’t embarrassed yourself on the plane” when you glared at him with disbelief, he added “At all”

“If you say so”

His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you with fondness that made you want to turn away. But you held his gaze until he grinned and asked:

“Excited to go on your first mission?”

“If by excited you mean scared then yeah” he laughed, and you beamed back “Though I suppose if my first outing is with you I should consider myself lucky”

“Oh you’re certainly lucky in that regard” he winked, grinning smugly “I’ll keep you entertained”

The smirk and look in his eyes were far from innocent and you felt your face heat up at the sight. But you did not want to let him win easily.

“I’ve no doubts about that” you stared back defiantly.

Your staring contest finished when he smiled and reached out for your hands that were folded on the table. He squeezed them.

“We’ll manage just fine together, I’m sure. It’s a simple mission” he reassured you softly.

“Can’t say I’m convinced” you looked back sceptically and frowned “I’m a bit surprised you’re willing to go into the field with a rookie”

“TP said it has to be us” he shrugged and leaned back into his seat.

Your hands felt cold without his touch.

“You do trust him enough to do anything he says?” you asked with curiosity.

All that you have learned during the meeting with the Protagonist was still fresh on your mind. You struggled to understand how on earth you could be important to the story. But it was made quite clear that you would have to wait for any answers.

“Yes” Neil’s tone was quite serious “I’ve learnt from past mistakes that he really does know how things will go”

You haven’t missed the distant look of sadness in his eyes. You made a mental note to one day learn the story. He must have noticed your scrutiny as he schooled his features and added:

“And it’s better to listen to him. No matter how difficult it might be” he looked at you with a faint smile.

You did wonder if he thought about the moment on the terrace in that instant. But before you could dare ask, he closed the subject with a definite statement:

“I know for a fact that you’ll be much better than a random rookie” he grinned, and despite feeling conflicted, you smiled back.

Then he quickly changed the topic to New York itself, and you rather enjoyed talking to him about your travels and experiences with other cities. While you were still stressed, when you arrived at Penn Station, you were much less tense. The conversation has distracted you enough to forget about the worries. You wondered if that was why Neil wanted to talk in the first place.

*** You took a taxi to the hotel, which was situated far off from the main city centre. It was a comfortable and stylish four-star establishment with a booking system that did not mind fake identities. Your rooms were on the sixth floor and were joined by a set of locked doors, as you were informed by the receptionist (with a wink). You were not sure what to do with this information but, as usual, Neil’s charm saved you.

“Thank you, miss” he smiled at the clerk and snatched your keys from the counter “It’s good to know” he smirked and walked away.

You followed him to the lift, where you could finally ask:

“What was that about?”

“I suppose she thought that we’re not here for…” he took a moment to think about the right word “Strictly business reasons” he enunciated every syllable “But rather for fun while keeping up the appearances”

Your eyes widened at the implication.

“Right” you didn’t dare think why she got that impression.

Neil chuckled as he led you to the rooms, pausing to hand you the key. Only once you saw him open the door to his room you sobered up:

“Wait, what do we do now?”

“Come to my room once you’re ready. I won’t lock the door” he winked and disappeared into his room.

You stared at the closing door before shaking your head and entering your own room.

He can be impossible sometimes, you thought with fondness and disbelief.

The room was quite big, with a queen-sized bed, a sofa with a coffee table, and a large bathroom. The view came out onto the maze of skyscrapers that you associated with New York. The barely visible sky was grey and threatening with rain. You decided to quickly shower, change into more comfortable clothes, and fix your make-up. All that took twenty minutes and you were quite proud of yourself. You opened the door leading to Neil’s room and hesitated at the second set. Trying the handle you found it unlocked and tentatively came in.

“Finally” he gave out a theatrical sigh from his place on the sofa.

He changed into yet another shirt and dress trousers. You did sometimes wonder how many sets of those he had.

The next thing you noticed was that while you were getting ready Neil has ordered quite a big selection of food from the room service. It has taken the whole space on the coffee table, along with water and teapot.

“Wow” you grinned at the sight, feeling your stomach rumble.

“Thought we might need it” he shrugged and motioned for you to join him on the sofa.

“I know I did” you quickly dove for the toasties before he could snatch them.

He laughed at your enthusiasm for food, but you could not care less at the moment. You felt his fond gaze for a little longer before he too started the feast. After you ate, Neil cleared the table and spread out the dossier along with any files you received.

“So…” you both looked down at the mess of papers and photos “Today we need to get to that bar” you squinted at the name “Benny’s and set up a meeting with Steiner?” you looked up at Neil for clarification.

“Yeah, that’s it” he nodded and picked up one of the documents “We’re a pair of weapon dealers who want to know a bit more about that mysterious piece of plutonium” he explained.

“That’s a manageable cover” you mused while trying to memorise your new identity.

“Well, I was hoping they’d make us fake married or something” Neil retorted innocently, and you glared at him sharply.

“What? Wouldn’t you want to be married to me?” the wounded look on his face made you laugh.

“Sounds horrible” you swatted his arm playfully and reached for another document.

But before you got that far, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it. You met his soft gaze and smiled back, admiring the sparks in his blue eyes. After a beat, he let go of your hand.

“I think we’d be a perfect match” he sent you one last smug smile and got up “We should get going if we want to catch Raul and establish contact” he added.

A perfect match? You observed as Neil put on the tie and suit jacket and considered his words with curiosity. You did like him, there was no denying that. And you felt like he enjoyed your company too. But before you could dwell on it too long, you felt his intense gaze. Caught in the act of staring, you felt yourself blush. But he only grinned and offered you a hand to get up from the sofa.

“C’mon, we need to get going” he ushered you towards your room.

Right, first mission. You took a deep breath and started to get ready. The time has come.

*** The first part of the plan went without any major fuck-ups. You and Neil met Raul at the bar, and he gave you all the information you could need about Steiner. It was clear that you both had to learn your roles perfectly as he tended to be suspicious. After that Neil went away to set up the meeting with the weapons dealer for tomorrow’s evening. All you could do was entertain Raul with random stories from your training which proved rather easy.

Once Neil came back, you both decided to go back to the hotel to get much-needed rest and prepare. The fact that so far everything seemed to go along the plan, made you feel a tiny bit more confident. But nerves were still there, and you could barely contain them when you made it back to the hotel. You lied to Neil that you were tired and shut the door before you could even look at him again.

But after showering, changing into sleeping clothes, and having a cup of herbal tea, nothing got better. You tried lying down in the darkened room only to quickly get up with a pain in your chest and shallow breath. After sitting in the dark and trying to calm down your racing thoughts for close to an hour, you gave up. You put on a cardigan and looked at the door leading to Neil’s room. It was past 1 AM but you had the feeling he was not sleeping. You knew there was no way you were able to rest now. Oh, why the hell…

You tried the handle of the connecting doors and found it unlocked. Of course. 

Neil’s room was covered in darkness, save for a bedside table lamp casting a warm glow. You were struck by how neat everything looked, with his suitcase in one corner and clothes folded on the chair. Only the bed was in disarray with papers thrown on it and Neil himself sat in the middle. He glanced up as you came in, surprised:

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I tried but…” you shrugged helplessly “Just couldn’t get my brain to shut up”

The worry in his gaze made you freeze. He was sat on the bed with ruffled hair and a wrinkled shirt. He was probably very tired. And you were weak and overreacting again. Suddenly you realised what a mistake it was to come here:

“Sorry, I shouldn’t… I’ll go now” you blurted and started to turn away.

You heard the rush of papers falling onto the floor and then Neil’s voice.

“No, stay” he sounded concerned.

Slowly you turned around to face him again, trying to put on a brave face. It was pointless though because he saw right through you. He got up from the bed, scattering all the documents onto the floor. Seeing you hesitate, he crossed the distance and took your hand in his, guiding you towards the bed. That only increased your panic.

“What are you doing?” you tried not to step on all the papers “Don’t we need those?”

He looked down at the pile with a surprised look, almost as though he forgot about them. Then he quickly made up his mind and looked up at you with determination.

“We do. But more so I need you to calm down so get in” he gestured towards the bed.

Your mind was blank. There was so much that could go wrong. But he noticed your uncertainty and unceremoniously pushed you onto the bed. You stared in shock before recovering enough to retort:

“You know I’m pretty sure there are better ways to make a lady sleep with you” You heard him laugh as he collected the pages.

“Certainly” finally he got up and dumped the pile onto the coffee table “But it worked” he shrugged.

Neil watched as you clumsily shifted to sit up with your back against the headboard and then joined you. After a few minutes of awkward silence, you asked:

“Sure you don’t want me to leave so you can go back to work?”

You felt extremely self-conscious in your sleeping clothes, with uncombed hair and tear-streaked cheeks. Neil’s intense gaze did not help it either but before you could even think about getting up, he replied:

“Perfectly sure” he smiled at you softly “Now tell me what’s wrong”

You sighed and let yourself relax slightly, leaning on the pillows. Staring straight ahead at the wall, you explained:

“I felt very anxious and hoped that maybe the shower and tea will help. Nothing changed so I tried to go to sleep but… my chest started aching and I couldn’t breathe” you finished while feeling the tears well up at the recollection.

You felt the bed shift as Neil moved closer and took one of your hands. You watched with curiosity as he traced the lines of your veins to the pulse point on the wrist and held his pointer finger there, checking your heart rate. You felt a nervous flutter at the gentle way he cradled your hand. You were pretty positive he will detect a pulse of 100bmp. After thirty seconds of intense focus, Neil released his hold on your hand and smiled:

“Apart from a very fast heart rate, you’ll be fine” he winked, and you looked down flustered.

But you were not allowed to get lost in shame for too long as he scooted even closer, leaving no space between you, and gingerly placed his arm around your shoulders.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking at you with genuine concern.

Your breath hitched at the closeness of him, but you quickly suppressed the feeling and nodded. After a few more tense breaths, you relaxed into the embrace, feeling him trace circles on your shoulder.

“What made you so scared?” his voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Think it’s just the idea of the first mission” you admitted “And ever since you and TP told me about the plan and the algorithm, I felt this tension rise and I guess it just hit the fan” sighing helplessly, you let your head rest on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I probably would have been more concerned if you took all this without questions”

“I guess I reacted that way because I never expected to be important… Definitely not in something of that scale” once you started talking the honesty did not seem to stop “I’ve spent so much time looking for my place in the world and now when I think I’ve found it, I’m not sure I’m good enough” 

After your admission, you felt Neil’s embrace tighten. You propped your head on his shoulder, so it was resting in the crook of his neck again, enjoying the warmth and safety.

“You are more than good enough” when he finally spoke you were almost surprised “And I’m not only saying that because I believe in what TP says”

You looked up at Neil and met his earnest gaze.

“Since the day we met and I showed you how inversion works, I knew that you will be amazing at it” he smiled at you softly.

“Even though I nearly passed out in the training zone?”

“Yeah” he grinned at the memory fondly “I just had the feeling that you’re supposed to work with us, with me”

You would swear that his eyes briefly glanced at your lips. But as quickly as the thought entered your mind, he reached out to brush away a stray hair from your forehead and you lost the ability to think entirely. He tucked the strand with care and brushed your jawline with his thumb.

“TP was right, you know” he was looking at you with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“About?”

“Me taking care of you” he smiled and admired your dazed expression. You could only stare, too overwhelmed with feelings to say anything. And you probably would have kept on staring if it was not for the extreme tiredness that begun to catch up. Before you could say anything, a wide yawn made you cover your face with your hands. The spell was broken.

“Think you’re tiny bit tired” Neil grinned at your sheepish expression.

“No shit” you mumbled and moved to get up, but he kept his grip steady.

“You can stay here” he answered your surprised glance.

You quickly considered the options, admitting that it was tempting. You felt safe with Neil and his presence definitely made you calmer. But it did feel like crossing some lines.

He was still looking at you with that hopeful eyes and that sealed the deal.

“Thanks… for everything” you smiled at him, hoping to convey even a quarter of what you felt through it.

“Always” he grinned back.

You both quietly shifted so that you were lying down with a small gap between you, both staring at the ceiling. After a few quiet moments, he turned off the bedside lamp and turned to face you.

“Good night” you heard him whisper and turned to look at him too.

“Sweet dreams, Neil” you replied while trying to make out his features in the darkness of the room.

“Oh I know they will be sweet” you could picture the sly grin.

And with that, he turned onto the other side. No longer than five minutes later you heard his breath level off and make way for quiet snores. You could not help but smile at the adorable sound. Maybe this night wasn’t so bad in the end.

*** You have not slept so soundly in days. When you woke up, the first thought that came to your mind was that you were being cuddled. An arm was thrown over your waist and you felt warm breath near your ear. Then as the morning fog slowly ascended, you remembered it all clearly. Neil. As though he was reading your mind, a second later you felt him stir and mumble:

“Morning sunshine” he sounded cheery.

Before you could react you felt him brush his lips over your temple. You froze, feeling the flutters in your stomach return with tripled force. Taking a deep breath to calm down you slowly squeezed the hand that was draped over your waist and sat up.

“Hi” you glanced at him only to be astounded by how unkempt and yet adorable he looked.

His hair was completely ruffled, with strands sticking out in every direction. And the shirt and trousers were crumpled to the point of needing starch treatment to ever be wearable again. And yet he still looked good. Especially with that boyish smile and sparkling eyes. One could suppose that you were not immune to him. At all.

“Do you always sleep in that?” you gestured towards his outfit, trying to divert your thoughts.

“No, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you last night” it was that shit-eating grin again “Did you sleep well?” he sat up now too but kept his distance.

“Very well” you admitted with a blush “But it’s late and we should probably prepare” you used the most sensible excuse to get up.

Before you could do that, Neil reached out and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers.

“Just don’t you dare feel sorry for this” you knew he was serious from the look in his eyes.

“I’ll try” you smiled slightly and used this chance to leave his room in haste.

While you did indeed try not to feel embarrassed about what happened, it was difficult. You were not used to people seeing you as vulnerable as you were last night. But at the same time, he did not seem to mind and that took you by surprise. His kindness and thoughtfulness were certainly not helping in trying to be more objective about him.

You managed to get changed and prepare yourself for the day relatively fast, considering what a mess your thoughts were. Once you were done you grabbed the needed documents from the coffee table and made beeline for Neil’s room without thinking too much. As usual, the door was unlocked.

The moment you stepped into his room you knew you have fucked up. He was there, just in front of where you entered, in a new pair of trousers and no shirt. Your eyes widened when you registered that last detail.

“Shit, sorry! I shouldn’t just come in…”

“No worries, darling” Neil drawled out the nickname expressively.

He looked at you with a grin, clearly enjoying it more than you were. It seemed as though he slowed down the process of putting on a new shirt just to tease you. It worked. You stared at his rather fit body and felt your cheeks grow warmer. He caught your wandering gaze with a wink and held it with an expression that was far from innocent. The knowing smirk told you that he was aware of what he was doing. But still, you held your ground, letting yourself openly look at his toned arms and chest. If he didn’t mind then there was no harm in looking, right?

Finally, he finished the process of buttoning up the shirt, while still keeping his gaze fixed on you. He assessed your expression with one last look and grinned:

“Let’s get to work, sunshine”

You wanted to punch him in that perfect jaw.

[sand-worms]

Hiiiii em twirls my hair around my finger, can I get 🎵🌼🍊 for all three of them (bom ag and gnocchi)

Bom- 🔥❄️

Agnolotti- 💫🍁

Gnocchi- 🍁✨

And far- *gets shot*

Bom 💖

🔥 - what makes them angry?

It takes a lot to push her buttons enough to get her truly mad but I think she gets fed up and frustrated by being ignored or not listened to/brushed off, and I think you have to get her really stressed out or nervous to get her to snap or lash out. Like if she’s worried about someone and trying to help them and they keep ignoring her it makes her really mad.

❄️ - what hurts their feelings the most?

She’s used to people sort of walking all over her but it still upsets her a lot. She’s used to people in the past not listening to her or paying attention to things about her and it makes her feel awful, so if someone she cares about makes her feel like that it kind of crushes her.

🎵 - already answered but obviously I also have to mention Heart of Glass by Blondie hehe <3

🌼 - I’m going to hunt you for sport for making me describe voices more but her voice is like? Very soft not in a volume way but in a tone way if that makes sense. She’s definitely got a bit of a customer service voice that she puts on at work that’s like a little higher and more bubbly with a bit of a lilt but when she drops that she gets a little quieter and softer and more relaxed. You can really hear how she’s feeling in her voice too I think, she’s not very good at hiding her emotions.

🍊 - who is someone they can be vulnerable around?

I think Agnolotti is really like the only one she sometimes feels she can be fully vulnerable with because their situations are a little similar so she understands the things that Bom needs to talk about sometimes.

Agnolotti 💜

💫 - already answered

🍁 - can they be intimidating?

Yeah for sure lol. I think it’s more tho like when she gets annoyed by someone she’s capable of hitting them with a look that says “knock it the fuck off or else.” She’s just sort of quiet and very upfront as well which can make her a little unapproachable at times.

🎵 - Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode, Spiderwebs - No Doubt, Violet - Hole

🌼 - her voice is pretty even and almost I want to say clinical? Like it’s very flat and not particularly emotive. It’s really easy to assume that she’s in a bad mood or that she’s just a bitch because she’s not super outwardly emotive and her voice reflects that I think. I think she annunciates pretty clearly and she’s definitely one to take her time thinking about her answers to questions and such.

🍊 - I think she has a hard time being vulnerable with just about anyone. She grew up feeling very lonely and isolated and it’s hard for her to feel like anyone really gets her fully. I think she would warm up to being vulnerable with Bombolone eventually and similarly I think she could be a little more open with Fiore as long as there was like. An equal level of openness between them if that makes sense. Outside of that she’s really only vulnerable with her partner.

Gnocchi 💚

🍁 - oh absolutely. She’s kind of got to be for her job y’know? I don’t think she’d make a very good assassin if she wasn’t at least a little intimidating and I think she can be intimidating in the way that she can be very quiet and observant, which can be unnerving if she’s making you aware of the fact that she’s watching you or not trying to hide it I guess. Idk I think she’s like fully aware in situations of things she can do to put the other person in a state of unease.

✨ - already answered

🎵 - Zombie - The Pretty Reckless, Nobody’s Daughter - Hole, The Less I Know the Better - Tame Impala

🌼 - also answered

🍊 - Vulnerability is something that comes so so so so hard to her like she pretty much can’t open up and be vulnerable of her own free will. I think if she’s going to open up and be vulnerable she needs some sort of third person there as a mediator who already knows about the things she needs to say to like push her to open up about it otherwise she just won’t. The only person she’s really sort of vulnerable with is Formaggio idk she feels very comfortable around him and I think he’s just good at getting people to talk about things.

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Harry Styles x OC

Warnings: drinking

Summary: Mixtapes. We all love them. We have a different one for a different mood. A different moment in time. For Harry and Summer, they become the soundtrack of one beautiful summer in California and the definition of their relationship. Because the people you love never really leave, they're only a mixtape away.

Part One

Let me start at the beginning. I never would have met him if it wasn't for my roommate Halley.

We lived in Monte Nido, about three miles from Malibu. I had just graduated from Berkley and was looking to become a freelance photographer. Halley did the temp thing, it paid the bills and we could still have fun.

I woke up to 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' blasting from the boombox in the living room. Halley had just broken up with her boyfriend and I knew she was hurting, but I despised the song. It was overplayed in my opinion.

"Hey," she whined when I walked out of my room and over to the boombox, shutting the music off. She was in the kitchen, baggy misfits shirt hanging off her slim frame, black hair tousled and looking like she hadn't brushed it in weeks. I rolled my eyes, walking over to her and catching the plate she slid across to me. A bagel with cream cheese and a cup of coffee. The perfect morning.

"I'm tired of you moping babe. We gotta get you out of the house." She grumbled, playing with the ends of her hair.

"Maybe I should call him," she started towards the phone hung on the wall. I ran, beating her to it and slamming my hand over it. "Summer!" She said slightly annoyed.

"No. Not doing that." I grabbed her hands, tugging her back towards the kitchen. "Know what we need?"

"What?"

"A night out." I said, bumping foreheads with her. "When's the last time we went to a show together?" She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. "Exactly. There's a new band supposed to be playing downtown at The Dome tonight. We should check it out." Halley chewed on her bottom lip for a second before nodding, giving in.

"I could use a girls night." I grinned, high fiving her.

I've always communicated best through music. There's something about a song that can just get what I'm feeling across in a way that words can't. My mom used to say I was born with music in my soul. We used to dance around the kitchen, Fleetwood Mac's Rumors on vinyl, blasting as we croaned, singing of heartbreak and hope. It was deep. It always has been.

Halley went to work, another gig at a vet's office and I grabbed my roller blades and headed outside, Walkman in my pocket, Dinosaur Jr's 'You're living all over me' blasting in my ears. I took off towards town, heading to the record store.

Big and Easy Cassettes and Vinyls had been around since the late seventies. It was my place, and my mom's. Even when she got sick I would drive her over and we would pick an album, just one new one to listen to on the way home. We'd come across a song that was too good plenty of times and would go around the block to finish it. The place was my home away from home.

The Psychadelic Furs 'Pretty in Pink' played over the speakers when I walked in. A couple people lounged around.

"Hey! Summer! What's happenin'?" Willy, the owner, waved at me from behind the register. He'd been a hippie back in the day, even lived at the Haight. He wore small circle rimmed glasses that were tinted and his afro was always a mess. He grinned at me as I made my way over to him.

"Hey man! Got anything new?" He nodded, pulling a box out from under the counter, the label on ot reading 'New Shit'. I opened it eagerly, looking through the tapes.

"How's Halley doing?" He asked.

"She could be better. We're going to a show tonight at The Dome." Willy nodded.

"Yeah? My buddy Mitch plays in the band. His girlfriend Sarah is drums."

"Really?"

"Yup. Could make a call. Get you guys backstage." I couldn't contain my grin.

"Thanks man." I grabbed a couple tapes, holding them out for him to charge me. He shook his head.

"On the house. This time."

"Thanks Willy."

"No problem. Tell Halley I said to have a good time. I'll call my buddy, let him know you're coming through."

Halley and I have always had a preshow ritual, but since she was working when I got home I started without her.

I put on my new cassette, The Cure 'Disentigration' and hummed along as I started making drinks. I was halfway through my third margarita when she came in the door.

"Hey!" She shouted. I laughed when she began dancing towards me and I handed her her drink.

"Willy knows someone in the band. He's gonna get us backstage."

"Are you kidding? That's fucking great!" Halley screeched jumping up and down. We danced around the living room drinking and singing the wrong lyrics. It's always good to hype up before you go out. Remember that.

We started getting ready around eight thirty, both of us slightly buzzed. I grabbed my favorite t shirt. An oversized Clockwork Orange shirt that was black and had the logo on the front in orange, a red plaid long sleeve and torn up Jean's with my mom's old converse. I'm not one for makeup much but I put brown eyeshadow on to make eyes look a bit sunk in, mascara and dark red lipstick. I let my black hair fall down over my shoulders and put on my favorite sunnies.

Halley was a bit more punk than I was. She wore a black mini skirt, ripped see through black mesh shirt with a black tank top over it. Her favorite dog collar around her neck and heavy eyeliner and lipstick, her favorite Doc Martens laced up her ankles, ripped stocking covering her legs.

"You look hot." I acknowledged, winking at her teasingly.

"Tell me something I don't know." She laughed.

"Show starts at ten. You wanna walk?"

"I'm up for that."

The Dome was the local bar. It was only about a mile away and we hoped the walk would sober us up as we went. We talked and laughed, excited at the prospect of hearing new music. Music had been the thing that brought us together in the first place. Our mutual love for Depeche Mode and Peter Murphy. It always seemed to me that music was the only thing that brought people into my life and kept them there.

We got there early enough to see people coming into the bar. We weren't sure if they were there for the band or for drinks. We didn't really care. We were young and looking for fun.

"I hope they're hot." Halley said as we took our seats at the bar. I laughed, rolling my eyes at her.

"The one named Mitch is taken. He's dating the drummer so you better hope you don't fall for him." She snickered at me.

"Hi ladies, what can I get you?"

"Two Jack in Coke on ice?" She looked at me and I nodded my approval. The bartender nodded, heading back to make our drinks. That's when I saw Willy's unmistakable afro making his way through the crowd and towards us.

"Hey ladies! Lovely to see ya." He kissed Halley on the cheek and then me before leaning against the bar beside us.

"Heard you can get us backstage tonight." Halley said, wiggling her eyebrows. Willy nodded.

"Sure can. Already told Mitch I was coming. Just gonna bring you girls back with me." I opened my mouth to say something else but the feedback from the stage caught my attention just as the bartender came up with my drink. I took a sip, watching as the lights dimmed and everyone's attention turned to the stage.

The band filed out. Three girls and three boys heading towards the stage. The guitarist had shaggy black hair and a full beard, dressed in bell bottoms and a baggy white tee. But it was the singer who caught my eye.

He wore beige slacks and a black button down tucked in, the first few buttons unbuttoned, a couple of tattoos poking out on his chest. His brown hair curled slightly but was slicked back and the rings on his hands glinted as he grabbed the mic stand. He was outrageously handsome.

"Oh my." Halley whispered. Oh my was right.

"Ello." My heart dropped into my stomach when he spoke, a thick english accent greeting my ears. "My mama's Harry. This is Mitch, Sarah, Ny Oh, Adam and Charlotte. We don't have a band name yet, maybe one day. But we hope you enjoy." Everyone laughed at his comment. "This song is called 'Ever Since New York.'"

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply as the song began. It was beautiful. My mom would have liked it.

"Tell me somethin'" his voice was sweet, carried along the melody that the band played. I opened my eyes, watching as he swayed to the beat of the music. Everyone was quiet, enraptured by this young man's voice.

"Wow." I heard Halley say behind me, I couldn't have agreed more. It wasn't dancey, not in the way that you could get up and shake your ass. No, it was the kind of song you listened to at home in the evening, with your lover perched on the counter while you stand between their legs, dinner cooking on the stove. It was comforting. It was....home.

When the song came to a close I was breathless, a weight placed on my chest, I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

A few songs in and he began a heavier song, one that we could dance to. He called it 'Kiwi'. Halley and I got up, dancing with Willy and laughing as he screamed into the microphone. I felt free, laughing with my friends and feeling like we were the only ones in the world.

I looked up at the stage after I flipped my hair to see him, Harry, eyes locked in on me. I held his gaze for a moment, blushing when he smiled at me before breaking eye contact. I smiled, turning back to my friends and feeling the music once more.

"Thank you all for a lovely evening." He said when the show was over. Willy gently took me and Halley by the arm.

"We can head back now guys."

The backstage area was small. Not a whole lot of room, but enough for the small indie bands that usually played. Halley and I stood to the side as Willy walked up to Mitch, shaking hands with him.

"These are my friends. This is Summer and Halley." We smiled, shaking Mitch's hand. He introduced us to the rest of the band but the singer, Harry, wasn't there.

"He's in the loo." Sarah said, a kind smile on her face. Halley started a conversation with Adam while I spoke with Sarah and Mitch. They were so sweet and kind.

"Hey, who's your friends?" I felt my stomach churn. Harry walked back in the room, a bottle of water in his hand as he eyed me and Halley.

"Friends of Willy. You've met him before." Harry shook Willy's hand before turning to me.

"I'm Harry." He held out his hand.

"Summer." I said. He smiled.

"I like that. 'S pretty." He held my hand for a moment too long, eyes locked on mine once more. Halley interrupted us.

"Hey, you guys got a place to stay?" Mitch shook his head.

"Nah. We were gonna crash in the car." I looked at Halley with wide eyes. I knew where she was going with this, she seemed so cozy with Adam already.

"No. No. You guys can stay with us. Crash on the couch or the floor. We're cool with it. Right Summer." I blinked, inside I was furious. I hated being put on the spot like that.

"Yeah." I said dryly. "Sure."

"Cool. We'll pack everything up then." Halley grinned.

"It's kinda small but there's room for everybody." Halley said as she opened the door to our apartment. I cringed inwardly. We hadn't even cleaned up, but the band didn't seem to mind. Everyone sat down in the living room while Halley and I went to grab extra blankets.

"You know I hate when you spring shit like this on me." I glared as she handed me a blanket and pillow.

"Oh shut up. Adam's cute and hey, I saw you and Harry having a moment."

"We were not...he was just greeting me." I said flustered. She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, they're our guests. Be hospitable."

We all sat around for a while, drinking and talking. Slowly everyone began to fall asleep, Harry and I being the only ones left awake.

We talked for what felt like hours. He told me about his parents, their divorce and his mom and step dad. His sister. How he knew he wanted to be a musician from a young age and when he met Mitch it felt like a sign from the universe. I listened intently, enthralled with the man before me.

"Tell me more about England. I've always wanted to go there." I was on my belly, propped up on my elbows while he sat on the couch. We'd been engrossed in our own conversation for so long that we hadn't realized everyone else fell asleep.

"Where I'm from is quite picturesque. It's a beautiful little town. Maybe one day, if you ever go to England you can come by."

"Maybe." I laughed. "If my photography ever takes me there."

"You have to have faith in yourself love. You'll do it." I was glad he couldn't see me blush in the dark. "I'm glad you came to the show." He said after a moment of silence between us.

"Me too." He shifted, laying back on the couch.

"This is probably weird. But I was wondering....would you like a cuddle? I hate sleeping alone." I was taken aback. But he seemed serious, green eyes looking at me curiously. I couldn't say no. How could I?

"Sure." I said, climbing up on the couch. I laid my head on his chest, slotting my body against his, he wrapped his arms around me, lifting his leg slightly to keep me up on the couch. I felt him nuzzle my head, he was smelling my hair.

"I like this...you smell nice." I didn't reply, only smiled, burying my face in his chest as we drifted off to sleep.

[youcanblogifyouwantto]

Biff’s Year in Music

2020 what can I say… I feel like this meme summed up the first half of it pretty well.

https://cheezburger.com/12209157/ant-man-meme-gives-a-recap-of-all-the-horrors-of-2020-so-far

Then to top it off this last week my son developed a spontaneous pneumothorax which basically is a collapsing of his lung for no apparent reason other than he is a tall thin white adolescent. To make matters worse he is 18 and COVID is raging in all the hospitals.  Thankfully my wife is an RN and should have been a lawyer as she was able to argue her way into staying with him.  Good thing she did because one the doctors fucked up so bad she gave him another Pneumothorax by turning a valve a wrong way.  Needless to say it has been a very rough year and especially rough week for me and my family.  Music has been and always will be the only constant positive release for me.  2020 had some great music and being home for almost an entire year now has led to a lot of music consumption.  The only other thing I did almost as much as listen to music was drink and cook food to match what I was drinking.  I’ve always loved beer and wine and dabbled in Whiskey but this year was the year of the cocktail for me.  I would discover a new alcohol type and then plan crazy elaborate dinners that cocktail would either be an aperitif of digestif for. Fun yes, healthy? …That is yet to be determined. I did take up running again to counter the amount I was drinking and eating and I would say that I have consistently worked out more this year than any other year so my liver might be fucked but my heart and lungs are strong.

So to start it off, this year saw releases from some of my all-time favorite musicians that I found nice and good even but never clicked or haven’t yet.  I had been eagerly anticipating Matt Berninger’s solo release all year and I dig it but strangely not enough to return to it unless I purposely tell myself to.  The same goes for Bright Eyes, Real Estate, Sylavan Esso, Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever minus Cars in Space (I played the shit out of that song), Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Car Seat Headrest, Dirty Projectors, Sufjan Stevens, Laura Marling (on first listen I thought easy top for the year then Fiona Apple came out and I haven’t returned to Laura Marling since), Damien Jurado, Jason Isbell, Neil Young (Homegrown had a special place in my heart for a month but again haven’t returned since August), Future Islands, Kevin Morby, and Busta Rhymes. All of these albums I do not hate or even dislike in fact some I liked a lot at first but just didn’t have staying power.  The following list are albums I loved that some stayed all year in rotation. Not in particular order but kinda like a Coachella poster if it’s near the top it’s one of my favorites of the year. I can be very longwinded on paper and very brief in person so I will try my antisocial tendencies to describe these albums. I will say for the most part the albums that hit this year are like comfort food music for my soul.

Waxahatchee  - St. Cloud – Home, comfort, introspective

Phoebe Bridgers – Punisher – Witty, production, great voice

Run The Jewels – RTJ4  - best running album ever. My favorite from these guys and best rap album I’ve heard in a while.

Jeff Tweedy – Love is the King. Maybe blasphemy but I like better than Warm. Perfect example of music comfort food. His biography is great too and so is the Summer teeth deluxe reissue.

Fleet Foxes – Shore – Beautiful, peaceful everything I needed from them and more. Side note Helplessness Blues was the first album review I ever wrote for ATR and I’m so glad I found those guys! Thank you for continuing the tradition.

Jeff Rosenstock – NO DREAM There was some good punk rock this year but this was the best also great running music. Rosenstock is now my go to for punk

Taylor Swift- Folk Lore- Story Telling, Sweater music, more music comfort food. And now Evermore continues the greatness. Dorothea might be my favorite track from both records. If you would have told me a Taylor Swift album would be in my tops for the year a couple of years ago I would have laughed you out of my face and now she has two albums in my tops. 2020 is one crazy year!

The Avalanches- We Will Always Love You- I’ve loved every single and was waiting for this to drop before posting this.  Well Worth the wait. I like it better than the Gorillaz release and that is saying a lot. It’s hard to have this many spot on features and keep a cohesive vibe! Johnny Marr meets MGMT is another need more of this collab.

Loma  - Don’t Shy Away- If 2020 could be articulated through music disorienting but also working from home has some perks. Good balance of weird and comfort

Adrienne Leckner – Songs- She writes great songs and performs them immaculately

Muzz- ST – The last show I went to before shutdown was Morrissey with Interpol opening and I forgot how much I love Bank’s voice.  This album is highly underrated in my opinion especially Evergreen.

Gorillaz –Song Machine – Best since Demon Days and Robert Smith/Damon Albarn Collab was never anything I thought I needed but now want more of. When Tony Allen died I went through a deep Tony Allen dive that was quite enjoyable. Great Drummer!

Dinner party – ST – The title explains it better than I can

Against All Logic – 2017-2019 – Kelly Lee Owens and this were the only electronica to stay all year both great running albums and If you can’t do it good do it hard is worth the price of admission alone

Hamilton Leithhauser- The Loves of your life- I love this man and I loved the walkmen. I feel he for me is like Frank Sinatra was for my mom. Not as sweet as a voice but can sing the hell out of a song.

Walter Martin – The world at Night- Another Walkmen member, this is another comfort food album it just feels right in my soul

Ka – Descendants Of Cain – Criminally underrated for too long this dude paints lyrical mood pictures like GZA.

Perfume Genius – Set My Heart On Fire Immediately – Beautiful Authentic Elegant

Fiona Apple – Fetch The Bolt Cutters  - Lyrically and sonically slays me. You have to like spoken word and weird rhythm texture but she nails both of those.

Bonny Light Horseman- ST – Great folk indie I just knew this was an album for me on first listen

Rose city band - Summerlong – Best new discovery, feeds my jam band meets indie soul

Strokes - The New Abnormal – I don’t know why this didn’t get more love? I loved it and The Adults are Talking is top five best Strokes songs.

Pinegrove- Marigold – More indie comfort food music

Bartees Strange – Live Forever – Second best new discovery. This dude is all over the place but in a good way. If you like this check out his singles where he covers many National songs.

Kelly Lee Owens – Inner Song- My Friend Antony described this better than I can at the current moment. Inner songs indeed.

The Killers – Imploding the Mirage- Most surprised album of the year, I’ve never been a big Killers fan but this one just wrapped it hooks inside me and didn’t let go all year

Young Jesus – Welcome to Conceptual Beach- Avant-garde or experimental music stretches me in ways that are very good for my soul and this one was such an album

My Morning Jacket – Waterfall II – Took a trip up to Humboldt in Early August and this was the soundtrack of the trip. Very much needed social distance return to nature vacation.

Hum- Inlet – I rocked out to this many a summer early fall evening sitting on my dock fishing and drinking beer.

Haim- Women in Music Pt. III – Best Haim yet and yes they are maturing into great song writers

Nation of Language- Introduction, Presence – Third best new discovery.. My friend Spencer at Shadows and Noise (a blog I’ve contributed to on occasion) accurately describes this album nicely. My wife loves Depeche Mode, New Order, and Erasure so this album is a new version of that genre that she and I can love together.

Coriky- ST – Half of Fugazi with a female drummer that sounds like classic Sleater Kinney in fact Fugazi meets Sleater Kinney is how I would describe this and that can’t be wrong!

EP’s Singles

James Blake- Before (Great marriage of his old and new)

Kruangbin & Leon Bridges- Texas Sun

Local Natives – Sour Lemon

Radio Dept – The Absence of Birds

Leon Bridges – Sweeter

Tom Berlin – Projections

Father John Misty – To S/ To R

Rostam- Unfold you

 Mank is one of the only great movies of 2020!

[eldritchsurveys]

1015.

5k Survey LXIX

3501. Is 'no glove, no love' your STRICT policy? >> I don’t have policies for activities I don’t participate in in the first place.

3502. What is the best Epic movie (examples of epics: ben-her, gone with the wind, last temptation of christ)? >> I don’t know what else falls into the category of “epic movie”, so... can’t really answer. 3503. Finish the sentance. Hey, Hey we're the: Monkees People say we:  But we're too busy:  The time to hesitate is: now You're too: physical It's a nice day to: start again 3504. Have you ever had 'missing time'? >> Only in the context of being intoxicated (and that one botched suicide attempt). 3505. Have you ever sent an electronic greeting? >> Maybe a long time ago.

3506. If you could send anonymous tips to people you knew who would never ever find out who sent them who would you send the following tips to? doesn't know when to leave: poor crotch hygenie: talks to much: band/art/dream is going nowehere: most likely to get arrestted: needs to get their life together: bad taste in clothes: bad taste in music: needs a hobby: 3507. Are you more likely to download porn or disney movies? >> I don’t download much of anything, really. Streaming has become my default mode of consumption. 3508. What is it with people? >> ??? 3509. Do you eat too much sugar? >> I can assure you that I do not. 3510 Imagine you have aband. Let's name your band. Adjective: Animal(plural): Your band name is (adjective) (animals) Under Glass! Could be better? Let's try again. Adjective: Noun (plural): Your band is (adjective) (nouns) With Puppets 3511. Are you desperate but not serious? >> I have no idea what this means. 3512. Was there a time when you were younger and it took less to get you excited? What did it take then? What does it take now? >> Honestly, I have no recollection of excitement experiences as a child. I do know that excitement is difficult for me nowadays because 1) I’m still pretty emotionally blunted, particularly for positive emotions and 2) I automatically attribute all physical feelings that could suggest excitement to anxiety instead (because I’m still learning the difference). 3513. Remember learning to write in elementary school? We spend 2 years learning to print..then they throw that out the window and teach kids cursive. Why? If cursive is so important and easy to read then why aren't books printed in cursive? Why aren't cursive computer fonts more popular? Why do buisness forms always say 'please print'? Schools are so preoccupied with teaching kids the complicated but traditional skill of cursive writing that more emphasis is put on that than on teaching kids how to clearly express their ideas through writing. I move that cursive writing become a jr. high school elective instead of a grammer school priority. Who's with me? >> This seems like a personal rant based on your own experiences and I have no dog in this fight, dude. I think of penmanship like art -- script writing is an art form and being adept at it can lead to some pretty results. Just don’t use it if you don’t care for it. Also, I’m pretty sure very few (public) schools care about cursive writing in this era, lmao, so this is also an outdated rant. 3514. Can you think of anything else (besides cursive writing) that is unhelpful, or unuseful, yet traditional and unquestioned? What? >> Whatever. 3515. Name one female celebrity who you would guess wears size ___ clothing: 0? 5? 12? 16? 20? 3516. Have you ever been to a place where the restrooms were named in a clever way rather than just saying men's and woman's? I've seen Hens and Roosters, Bart and Lisa, Dudes and Babes...what have you seen? >> Yeah, I saw “Pirates” and “Wenches” once. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen others but I can’t remember what they were now. 3517. What is the 'message' or 'point behind': Fight Club? Donnie Darko? AI? Minority Report? Solaris? A Walk to Remember? You've Got Mail? 3518. have you seen, and what are your thoughts about these movies: Drumline? >> Now this is a question block I can actually answer. I did see Drumline, but I was 13 at the time so I have no real recollection of my feelings about it. The Hot Chick? >> Nope. Maid in Manhattan? >> Nope. Star Trek: Nemesis? >> Nope. About Schmidt? >> Nope. Okay, maybe I can’t answer this question block after all. What are most of these movies...? Evelyn? >> --- The Guys? >> --- Intacto? >> --- The Jimmy Show? >> ---

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers? >> I did see this, but I don’t remember much of it either because it was at least half a decade ago. I do assume I enjoyed it. Gangs of New York? >> --- Two Weeks Notice? >> --- The Wild Thornberrys Movie? >> --- Smokers Only? >> --- Treasure Planet? >> --- The Santa Clause 2? >> --- 3519. START this sentance: ....and I think to myself, what a wonderful world." >> ---

3520. What is: insanity? normal? farenheit? 3521. Tell us about yourself in the third person for a bit: >> I’d really rather not attempt that. 3522. If someone breaks a law, should they be punished if they did not know it was a law? >> Oh, I don’t know. This is a concept that can get real thorny real fast. 3523. If it's so much easier to learn languages when we are very young (and it is, something to do with the developing brain) why do they wait until jr high and high school to teach them? >> I don’t know anything about the justifications behind public-school curricula, dude. 3524. Name a band you sort of like: Dream Theater. You are wearing that band's t-shirt in a store. SUDDENLY some guy you don't know comes up to you and goes, "Hey! You like (insert name of the band here)??!!" This is obviously a really stupid question because if you didn't like them you wouldn't be wearing the t-shirt. Your witty reply is: >> It’s not a really stupid question, first of all, because it’s a conversation starter as opposed to a straightforward inquiry. I’d assume he’s excited that someone else seems to be a fan of a band he likes, and is opening the floor to talking about it. Which is great! Let’s talk about prog metal! Now, on the other hand, if the tone of “hey, you like Dream Theater?” is skeptical, like he’s assuming I’m just blithely wearing the shirt without actually liking the band or whatever, then I’d probably just give him a simple “yep” and see what happened after that. I’m not going to immediately be sarcastic or “witty” until I am positive about what kind of interaction is happening. 3525. If you were organizing cd's in a music store what section would you put each of the following in (don't forget the 'bargain bin' section!): Blink182 Depech Mode Weezer Led Zeppelin The Doors Avril Lavigne Nelly Manfred Mann Iggy Pop Pink Floyd Guns N Roses Shakira Britny Spears Tool Ozzy Osbourne Madonna The Rolling Stones The Beatles Motley Crue Bon Jovi 3526. Does coffee stimulate your mind or body more? >> It stimulates my anxiety drive, is what it does. 3527. Can you do 'six degrees of seperation' to anyone famous? >> I assume not. 3528. What's the oddest thing in your home? >> Me. 3529. Do you find it odd when people who are not handicapped use the handicapped stall: in the bathroom? >> No, I’ve used it because the close quarters of the other stalls wig me out sometimes. Or I’ve used it because the other ones were disaster zones. Or I’ve used it because I was also getting changed in the stall, or something, and needed the room. in the parking lot? >> You need a whole placard (or handicapped license plate) for those, so there are obvious rules. 3530. Do you sometimes find yourself talking to yourself? Do you answer yourself back? >> No, I talk to the Inworlders, not “myself”. 3531. In your head do you call yourself 'I' or 'you' or both? >> Er... “I”? 3532. What is the best excuse for why you haven't done your homework? >> --- 3533. Someone tells you 'well there are black people, and then there are n*ggers'. What do you think? >> I think that person’s an out-and-out bona-fide bigot, obviously? What the fuck else am I going to think (besides “I have to leave immediately”)??? 3534. Does culture shape behavior or does behavior shape culture? >> Yes. 3535. What determines whether a person will be: intelligent? pretty? happy? sucessful? 3536. What is social loafing? What is groupthink? >> ??? 3537. I have an idea. let's change the english language by making the words fewer, shorter and more concise. What do ya think? >> No. 3538. What are the physical symptoms of: joy? fear? shame? 3539. Here's the scenerio...your little eight year old brother is hangin out in the house when you come in..and catch him watching the playboy channel! What do you do/say? He says, "Why can't I watch this?" What is your response? Why do you respond that way? >> I don’t have an eight-year-old brother and I don’t know anything about how I would respond in a sibling-dynamic situation because I’ve never been in one. 3540. Who REALLY has a higher sex drive, girls or guys? How can you tell? >> --- 3541. are you usually carefree? >> No. 3542. Do you generally prefer reading to meeting people? >> This is an odd comparison to make. 3543. Do you often long for excitement? >> No. 3544. Are you mostly quiet when you are with others? >> It depends on what kind of situation I’m in and what kind of day I’m having. And who the others are. And where we are. Context, people. Details. Please. 3545. Do you often do things spur of the moment? >> No. 3546. Are you slow an unhurried in the way you move? >> Sometimes. If I’m doing something I hate or that triggers me, then I tend to be a lot more hurried. 3547. Would you do almost anything for a dare? >> I wouldn’t do anything on a dare. 3548. Do you hate being in a crowd who plays jokes on one another? >> Er... 3549. Do you enjoy wild parties? >> No. 3550. Have you ever paid for something priced more than $5.00 in only change? >> No, but I was with someone that did. We had to scrounge for change in her car so we could buy enough gas to get us the rest of the way home, lol.

[beatuyandrage]

Hilary Duff Diginty Project

Dignity is the fourth studio album by American recording artist Hilary Duff. It was released on March 21, 2007, by Hollywood Records. After launching her third record Hilary Duff (2004), she experienced an eventful personal life, including a stalking incident, her parents getting divorced and breaking up with her boyfriend of two years Joel Madden. Consequently, Duff assumed an integral position in its production, co-writing almost every track with longtime collaborator Kara DioGuardi instead of her previously-limited involvement.

As inspiration for the album, Duff cited indie rock band the Faint and pop singers such as Gwen Stefani and Beyoncé,[9] while critics compared her musical style with Stefani, Janet Jackson, Depeche Mode, Madonna and Justin Timberlake.[4][14][15] Duff felt that the album's dance-pop themes were a deviation from the pop rock of her previous albums. "I didn't necessarily plan the album to sound like this, but it was so easy to write to," she said.[16] Critics have noted that Dignity's musical style is dance-pop and electropop, with influences of hip hop, rock and roll and Middle Eastern music.[17][18][19][20] According to Duff, the album is a combination of dance, electro and rock music.

The lyrics of several songs relate to Duff's experiences between the releases of Hilary Duff and Dignity. The songs "Stranger" and "Gypsy Woman", despite speculation that they were written about Madden's then-new girlfriend Nicole Richie, were actually written about Duff's father's affair.[8] She said that "Stranger" was written from her mother's perspective. "Stranger is a song I wrote about how my mom must feel around my dad," she said. "I made it seem like it was about a relationship I was in, because I didn't want people to know about my parents. But I've realized that so many people can relate to what I've gone through."[8] The album's title track has also been reported to be about Richie, though Duff did not deny rumors that it was. "Dignity is a song that is definitely about people in Hollywood", she said. "I wouldn't say that it is about her specifically but it is about people that kind of do what she does and act the way she acts."[21] The song "Danger" was written about one of Duff's friends' relationships with an older man. "I understand that feeling of wanting to be dangerous," she said. "You may know morally something's not right, but you can't help yourself."[9] She has stated that the song "Dreamer" was written about a stalker in a tongue-in-cheek fashion,[22] and it has been speculated that it was written specifically about Miakovsky.[23][24]

[punk-chicken-radio]

ax and smelly’s favorite albums!

hey there, all you chickens.

well, we are in our third week of trying to bring some life back to this blog, and today may be the day we are most successful. smelly and i have both been extra busy and have had a hard time getting back into the swing of things, and what seemed like a easy show for us to throw out here for you guys has turned into a straight up banger. 

i’ll get us started with the album @theoldsmelly picked, blondie’s ‘parallel lines’.

parallel lines is the third studio album by blondie, and was released on september 23, 1978. instead of giving you a bunch of stats on this album, instead i will repeat what smelly told me about it. the first time i asked him what he wanted to say, i got a response along the lines of “i’m in a field, i am being eaten by bugs’ and something about his blood being pickled from too much drink...then he got this to me...

“i had forgotten how good this album is. usually, when i’m on a road trip, i just grab some compilation CD’s, but this time i dug out parallel lines. it really is worth listening in its entirety, from start to finish, and i’ve included every track in order, plus a few bonus tracks on the deluxe edition, the french version of ‘sunday girl’ which was the b-side of the single, and the early non-disco version of ‘heart of glass’. enjoy!”

he’s 100% right, and he’s been talking about this album for a couple of weeks to me and i’m pretty sure he’s somewhere right now, in a striped shirt, listening to it again....

then we have my ( @loveaxiomatic‘s ) pick, depeche mode’s ‘violator’.

‘violator’ is the 7th studio album by depeche mode, released on march 19, 1990. now, there are a lot of depeche mode albums that i love, and that i think are very good. but there is only ONE violator in their catalog. this is undeniably dm’s best album (to me) and is so cohesive from start to finish. this one came out when i was 16 years old, and if you have caught any of the photos of me at that time, you know i was riper than fuck for this album. it also has the distinction of hitting at a time when my bf and i were on the road a lot (he was in college in another city) and we played the hell out of it. he still has the cassette we used to listen to in his car, and it’s got pride of place among the many cassettes we both still own. from the opening track, violator grabs you by the goddamn soul (and the sex, let’s be honest) and doesn’t let go. it’s weird, there are depeche mode songs that have a high place of honor in my mind, but damn, the songs on violator are just something else entirely. i have all the tracks from it for you today, along with a handful of b-sides that are pretty awesome. i have been listening to it on repeat quite a bit lately, and i am just in love all over again...

smelly and i hope you enjoy these two albums today, and if you are only a casual fan, take the time to journey deeper into these bands’ greatest efforts (as deemed by us, anyway).

don’t leave me hanging on the telephone, words like violence break the silence kisses,

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

love (i’m full of seafood and rum) axiomatic and the old (you wonky) smelly

[insanityclause]

It takes three to tango, and Jamie Lloyd’s “Betrayal” completely grasps that. Having made it his mission to modernize the way we stage Harold Pinter’s plays, his chic, stripped-down staging starring Tom Hiddleston as a cuckolded husband might be his best attempt yet. Pared back and played out on an empty stage, this masterful play becomes not just an aching account of an extramarital affair that eats away at all three people involved, but a glinting meditation on the myriad ways we betray ourselves, and the ways our hearts seem to harden with age.

Pinter’s play picks its way through the wreckage of a marriage, retracing its steps through a seven-year affair that runs in reverse. Hiddleston plays Robert, a publisher whose wife Emma (Zawe Ashton) is first seen assessing the end of her affair with his old university mate Jerry (Charlie Cox) — an affair that rewinds, scene by illicit scene, back to their very first tryst. It is a forensic examination of romantic breakdown.

But Lloyd taps into a central tenet of infidelity: the third party is always present. By trapping the trio on an empty stage, stripping away any sense of place, Lloyd makes them become the background to each other’s affairs. Every encounter — between lovers or rivals, between husband and wife — exists in relation to the person it leaves out. As Emma and Jerry idle away their afternoons in their shabby shag-pad, Hiddleston’s Robert cuts a stern, solitary figure upstage or spins around them, cradling Emma’s daughter in his arms. Cox sits, staring into space, while the married couple bickers on holiday in Venice and, when the two men meet for a boozy lunch, Emma’s visible elsewhere, lost in thought. There’s no losing sight of the situation. The betrayal is always plain to see.

It’s as if these three people keep coming between one another, and Soutra Gilmour’s set, with its twin revolves, spins adultery into a kind of choreography. The love triangle turns circles like the hands of a clock, or falls into sync like interlocking clogs. Sometimes they weave in and out of each other’s paths like a tightening knot. They’re caught, inextricably, in one another’s orbit, bound by some gravitational pull. It’s gorgeous, but awful: a situation without a solution that, very gradually, grinds all three of them down.

While Pinter wrote “Betrayal” out of personal experience, inspired by his own extramarital affair, Lloyd’s abstraction elevates its existential edge. Slowing the pace right down, stretching silences out with unspoken regrets as Depeche Mode’s “Enjoy the Silence” swims mournfully overhead, Lloyd throws focus on passing time as well as fading love. As the years roll back, the three characters remain outwardly unchanged — no new haircuts, no cooler, youthful clothes. Only their attitudes seem to shift, and as the play winds backwards, each lightens and brightens in beautifully calibrated performances.

Hiddleston brings a sour spite to Robert, only cracking his first smile halfway through. This mournful, bitter man regains the easy confidence of his youth, pushing his hands through his hair like a Vidal Sassoon model. Once his pride is dented by his wife’s affair, he breaks down and, shockingly, admits “bashing” her. That explains Ashton’s initial aloofness, gaunt and tight-lipped to start, only to warm up, relaxing in the arms of Cox’s gentle, easy-going Jerry. He seems by far her better option and, indeed, if any single betrayal leaps out, it’s Emma’s inability to leave her husband for a new life. “Have you ever thought of changing your life?” she asks him idly, as the revolve makes the two men glide past one another, momentarily locking eyes.

Lloyd’s minimalist approach can feel a little too like a drama school exercise, as unarmed actors wring every inch of emotion out of a scene. Occasionally each teeters too far toward the emphatic — Hiddleston’s so aggressive with his prosciutto starter that you’d think he was stabbing the pig to death — but mostly these are rich, finely calibrated performance attuned to the agonies of life and the impossibilities of love. Both quietly radical and faithful to Pinter’s play, Lloyd has revealed “Betrayal” anew.

[lovemesomesurveys]

5,000 question survey series--part thirty-seven

3501. Is 'no glove, no love' your STRICT policy? Virgin here, but yeah it would be.

3502. What is the best Epic movie (examples of epics: ben-her, gone with the wind, last temptation of christ)?/ So, I’m dumb and thought you meant “epic” as in “awesome”, but something was telling me that you meant it in a different way, so I had to Google it. Apparently, if anyone else doesn’t know, it’s a style of movie that usually focuses on an heroic character. Google it if you want to know more, but yeah. Anyway, I saw a list of top Epic films and saw Forrest Gump was on there, so I’ll choose that. 3503. Finish the sentance. Hey, Hey we're the: People say we: But we're too busy: The time to hesitate is: You're too: It's a nice day to: start again. 3504. Have you ever had 'missing time'? It does seem like you lose time and it just slips away. I certainly feel that way. 3505. Have you ever sent an electronic greeting? Waaaaay back in the AOL days I sometimes send those electronic greeting cards.

3506. If you could send anonymous tips to people you knew who would never ever find out who sent them who would you send the following tips to? doesn't know when to leave: poor crotch hygenie: talks to much: band/art/dream is going nowehere: most likely to get arrestted: needs to get their life together: bad taste in clothes: bad taste in music: needs a hobby: 3507. Are you more likely to download porn or disney movies? Disney movies. I don’t watch porn. 3508. What is it with people? Good question. 3509. Do you eat too much sugar? No. My thing is carbs. 3510 Imagine you have aband. Let's name your band. Adjective: Plain. Animal(plural): Dogs. Your band name is (adjective) (animals) Under Glass!: Plain Dogs Under Glass. Could be better? Uh, yeah. Let's try again. Adjective: Fabulous. Noun (plural): Clothes. Your band is (adjective) (nouns) With Puppets: Fabulous Clothes With Puppets. 3511. Are you desperate but not serious? What.

3512. Was there a time when you were younger and it took less to get you excited? Oh, definitely. As a kid I was easily pleased and entertained and actually enjoyed doing things. Getting McDonald’s or something was exciting. What did it take then? Not much. What does it take now? A lot. :/ Even when it’s something I do like and enjoy, I just don’t have that spark anymore. Getting food isn’t even exciting anymore. 3513. Remember learning to write in elementary school? Yeah.

We spend 2 years learning to print..then they throw that out the window and teach kids cursive. Why? They don’t throw it out the window. We learned cursive in addition to print.

If cursive is so important and easy to read then why aren't books printed in cursive? It’s just a nicer looking print used more for things like our signature. Why aren't cursive computer fonts more popular? I don’t know, man. Not something I’ve thought about. Why do buisness forms always say 'please print'? Because it’s more legible than cursive typically. That’s just how it is okay I don’t knowww. Schools are so preoccupied with teaching kids the complicated but traditional skill of cursive writing that more emphasis is put on that than on teaching kids how to clearly express their ideas through writing. I move that cursive writing become a jr. high school elective instead of a grammer school priority. Who's with me? I don’t know what it’s like in schools now, but for me I remember learning it, but I don’t remember it being such a big deal. 3514. Can you think of anything else (besides cursive writing) that is unhelpful, or unuseful, yet traditional and unquestioned? What? I’m sure there’s a lot of things, but I don’t feel like coming up with any. 3515. Name one female celebrity who you would guess wears size ___ clothing: 0? 5? 12? 16? 20? 3516. Have you ever been to a place where the restrooms were named in a clever way rather than just saying men's and woman's? I've seen Hens and Roosters, Bart and Lisa, Dudes and Babes...what have you seen? I’ve heard of places that do that, but I don’t think I’ve ever been to one. 3517. What is the 'message' or 'point behind': Fight Club? Donnie Darko? AI? Minority Report? Solaris? A Walk to Remember? You've Got Mail? 3518. have you seen, and what are your thoughts about these movies: Drumline? The Hot Chick? I think it’s funny. Maid in Manhattan? It’s cute. Star Trek: Nemesis? About Schmidt? Evelyn? The Guys? Intacto? The Jimmy Show? The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers? Gangs of New York? Two Weeks Notice? The Wild Thornberrys Movie? I wasn’t into that cartoon much as a kid. Smokers Only? Treasure Planet? The Santa Clause 2? It’s cute, but The Santa Clause will always be the best. 3519. START this sentance: ....and I think to myself, what a wonderful world." Something about seeing trees of green and red roses bloom.

3520. What is: insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. normal? Common, typical among a large group of people. Things can be considered normal for individuals, too. farenheit? Unit to measure temperature.

3521. Tell us about yourself in the third person for a bit: This girl really needs to get her shit together cause she’s a mess. 3522. If someone breaks a law, should they be punished if they did not know it was a law? It can be difficult to prove if they did or not, but that’s why in certain circumstances people are just given a warning.

3523. If it's so much easier to learn languages when we are very young (and it is, something to do with the developing brain) why do they wait until jr high and high school to teach them? *shrug* 3524. Name a band you sort of like: You are wearing that band's t-shirt in a store. SUDDENLY some guy you don't know comes up to you and goes, "Hey! You like (insert name of the band here)??!!" This is obviously a really stupid question because if you didn't like them you wouldn't be wearing the t-shirt. Your witty reply is: 3525. If you were organizing cd's in a music store what section would you put each of the following in (don't forget the 'bargain bin' section!): Blink182 Depech Mode Weezer Led Zeppelin The Doors Avril Lavigne Nelly Manfred Mann Iggy Pop Pink Floyd Guns N Roses Shakira Britny Spears Tool Ozzy Osbourne Madonna The Rolling Stones The Beatles Motley Crue Bon Jovi 3526. Does coffee stimulate your mind or body more? It takes off some of the edge, and I really just love coffee, so I guess I’d say my mind cause it doesn’t do much at all for the tiredness anymore.

3527. Can you do 'six degrees of seperation' to anyone famous? Nope.

3528. What's the oddest thing in your home? *shrug*

3529. Do you find it odd when people who are not handicapped use the handicapped stall: in the bathroom? Some parents use it if they have a small child with them. in the parking lot? There’s a stall in the parking lot? ha. It’s pretty messed up when people who genuinely don’t need it use it and take the place from someone who genuinely does. People need to keep in mind; though, that handicapped doesn’t just mean “wheelchair user.” People assume if they’re not in a wheelchair then they don’t need that parking spot and that’s not always the case. 3530. Do you sometimes find yourself talking to yourself? I call it thinking out loud. My mind is a jumbled mess and it helps me sort out things sometimes.

Do you answer yourself back? I don’t have conversations with myself, I just think things out loud.

3531. In your head do you call yourself 'I' or 'you' or both? I refer to myself as “I.”

3532. What is the best excuse for why you haven't done your homework? I don’t have any cause I’m not in school anymore.

3533. Someone tells you 'well there are black people, and then there are n*ggers'. What do you think? Wow, wtf. I’d think “racist” first of all. 3534. Does culture shape behavior or does behavior shape culture? Both.

3535. What determines whether a person will be: A lot of different factors contribute to these things. intelligent? pretty? happy? sucessful? 3536. What is social loafing? When people put in less effort when they’re in a group. What is groupthink? Conforming to the rest of the group.

3537. I have an idea. let's change the english language by making the words fewer, shorter and more concise. What do ya think? Not sure how you’d go about that. Sounds like a lot of work.

3538. What are the physical symptoms of: joy? Smiling, that feeling of butterflies in your stomach, rapid heart rate. fear? Rapid heart rate, sweating, stomach in knots feeling, trouble breathing. shame? Anger, rage, anxiety, crying. 3539. Here's the scenerio...your little eight year old brother is hangin out in the house when you come in..and catch him watching the playboy channel! What do you do/say? I’d quickly switch the channel and ask what he was doing.

He says, "Why can't I watch this?" What is your response? It’s not appropriate for kids. Watch cartoons. Why do you respond that way? Because I don’t think a child should watch that stuff. I wouldn’t freak out on him, but I’d explain it’s just not appropriate. Then if he had questions he could go to my parents, ha.

3540. Who REALLY has a higher sex drive, girls or guys? Really depends on the person. How can you tell? 3541. are you usually carefree? Ha. Haha. Hahahaha. Good one. 3542. Do you generally prefer reading to meeting people? Yes. 3543. Do you often long for excitement? I mean, a break in the mundane routine is nice. 3544. Are you mostly quiet when you are with others? Depends. 3545. Do you often do things spur of the moment/ Nope. 3546. Are you slow an unhurried in the way you move? No. I know people like that and it can be annoying.

3547. Would you do almost anything for a dare? Nope. I’m a lame-o. 3548. Do you hate being in a crowd who plays jokes on one another? Playful joking and goofing around is fun. Unless that’s all they do and they’re just annoying and obnoxious about it to where it’s not fun anymore. 3549. Do you enjoy wild parties? Nope.

3550. Have you ever paid for something priced more than $5.00 in only change? Noo.

3551. Is rascism still a big part of our culture? Yes. You’re in denial if you think it doesn’t still exist. 3552. A drawing was shown to a person. The drawing showed a black man in a buisness suit standing next to a white man holding a razor. The person who saw this drawing was white and was asked to describe it to a second white person who had not seen it, who described it to a third, and so on. By the end of six rounds the final report often placed the razor in the hand of the black man and it is claimed he is waving it threateningly. What do you think of thiss? There’s a whole test and study on this type of thing. I remember discussing it in one of my psych courses. 3553. How many famous people cxan you name who committed sucicide?> Too many. :( 3554. Do you have OCD? No. 3555. Are you more anxious or relaxed? Very anxious. Insecure or secure? Very insecure. Socialble or with drawn? Very withdrawn. Original or conventional? Hmm. 3556. Are you more emotional or calm? Emotional. self pitying or content? Self-pitying. Fun loving or sober? You can be fun loving and sober... Imaginative or down to earth? Both. 3557. Are you more Friendly or aloof? I’m polite and friendly, but I’m not like outgoing and sociable. adventurous or cautious? Cautious. Broad or narrow when it comes to interests? Broad. recptive or closed to new ideas? I’m open to hearing new ideas and opinions. I don’t have to agree, but it doesn’t mean I’m not open to hearing them. 3558. Are you more good natured or irratble? I’m an irritable person.   soft hearted or ruthless? Soft hearted. well organized or disorganized? Disorganized with life. Dependable or undependable? I used to think I was dependable, but I wouldn’t say that now. 3559. Are you more courteous or rude/ I’m courteous. sympathetic or tough minded/ I can be both. hardworking or lazy? I have no motivation or drive anymore. ambitious or easy going? Generally pretty easy going. I try to be. Anxiety Inscurity Emotionalism and Self Pity are traits of a neurotic personality. Sociable, fun loving, friendly and adventurous are traits of an extraverted personality. orignality, imaginative, broad interests, and receptive are traits of an Open personality. Good natured, soft hearted, courteous, and sympathetic are traits of an agreeable personality. Well organized, dependable, hardworking and ambitious are traits of a conscientious personality. 3560. Do men and woman have little or a lot in common? Depends on the people. A woman or man could have a lot in common, but that same woman or man could have little to nothing in common with another woman or man. It all just depends. 3561. Do you feel like any of the teachers you've ever had have REALLY cared about educating you to think for yourself? Yes. I had a version of Mr. Feeney. Do you tend to try harder if they DO care? It makes a huge difference when the teacher genuinely wants to teach and help you. 3562. Have you ever been stereotyped? Yeah. As what? For my disability. 3563. Have you ever been dsicriminated against? No. For what? 3564. How often is your school and/or job closed due to weather? Done with school, no job. 3565. Who do you know that you believe does not masturbate? I don’t care to know. 3566. Does a cloned human being have a soul? Watch Pet Semetery or something of the sort and see what you think. ha.

Why or why not? You can’t clone the outside, but they’re not going to be the same person. That’s just not something you can clone. A lot of factors go into making a person who they are. 3567. Finish the sentance: As the world turns..I only have one concern...that: I don’t know. 3568. What group in history has been the most oppressed? All groups have. 3569. Have you read any biographies? Yeah. Whose? I’ve read several for school. 3570. What are you obsessed with? I’m not obsessed with a person, but I do love me some Alexander Skarsgard. ;) 3571. Break out your decoder ring..(no hints this time)! t3ii9 8 i9f3 697 29h5 697 53ii j3 6974 hqj3? 3572. Do you crack your: knuckes? Yes. neck? Yes. back? No.

other? Yeah, my arms and wrists. 3573. Of the following powers which 2 would you pick for yourself? The ability to fly, breathe under water, turn invincible, change into animals, freeze and restart time, never gain weight unless you want to, heal people with your touch, have orgasms that last for an hour Fly and restart time. 3574. Do you chew your penciles and pens? No. 3575. Can you tell the exact point where your back ends and your butt begins? Yeah? 3576. When you are bored do you picture everyone eround you naked? No. 3577. What are some great holiday gift ideas for Depends entirely on the person. You really have a tendency to group people and generalize.

guys: girls: 3578. Who looks better naked, men or woman? That depends on your preference. 3579. Do you sit in chairs or fall into them? I’m always sitting. 3580. Has anyone ever: screamed your name during sex? moaned your name during sex? 3581. Hershey's kisses: mint, almond, hugs, plain. other? Mint, plain, and the candy cane ones. 3582. What's the best slurpee flavor? I used to always get Coke and cherry together. I haven’t had a Slurpee in years, though. 3583. What are five movies that you think someone would have to be living under a rock in iceland to not have seen? The Marvel and DC movies, honestly. 3584. Of these words, which ones are funny: beets? cumquat? pit? Piss-capades? fuzzy? What are some other funny words? 3585. Do you give good massages? I’ve never given one. 3586. What songs have been 'stuck' in your head? Nothing at the moment. 3587. What don't most people know about your job? I don’t have a job. 3588. Is there anything you won't say unless someone else says it first? Initiate most conversations apart from my family. 3589. Do you need a little chrsitmas? I still have my decorations up in my room... ha. 3590. Fake or real tree? Real. 3591. Is your refridgerator running? Yeah. You know what to do. Nah, I don’t feel like running after it. 3592. How can you explain when there are few words you can choose? What. 3593. Who can it be now? I wonder who they’re talking about in that song. 3594. Where HAS Joe Dimaggio gone? *shrug* And why does our nation turn it's eys to him? 3595. How often do you get headaches? Maybe a handful a month. It varies. 3596. Have you ever woen fake eyelashes? Yeah. 3597. What could you spend 24 hours ina row doing? I don’t know. 3598. Is it Friday yet? It’s Sunday. 3599. Do you remember There was a time (ahaha) when people on the street were walking hand in hand in hand?/ 3600. Do you talk to inanimate objects? When they’re not functioning properly. Do you try to get them to answer you? ...No. Have they ever answered you? Uh, no. I’d be extremely freaked out if it did.

[midnightiscoming-kasabian]

Kasabian: 'Newer bands aren't good enough for headline slots'

The group, who headlined the Isle of Wight Festival on Friday, explain why new bands aren’t breaking through 

Kasabian made a triumphant return to the Isle of Wight Festival on Friday, playing their first headline set there since 2011.

Tom Meighan and Serge Pizzorno from the Leicester band told Sky News it felt particularly good to come back to the event because the weather was so bad last time they played there.

"It rained and rained and rained, it rained from the Friday to the Sunday night and it was hard work," Pizzorno admitted.

Meighan agreed: "It was horrific, it was like a thunderstorm, the whole place collapsed."

The weather was far more clement on Friday night when they took to the main stage and played the show they had been waiting to perform.

"When this (booking) came in, we felt like we had unfinished business in this place, so when it came through it was like thank god," said Pizzorno.

"Because it was like we feel like we owe a show, we owe something."

Kasabian have been making their way up the bill since the release of their debut self-titled album in 2004.

The other headliners at the Isle of Wight festival were Depeche Mode, who formed in 1980, and The Killers who have been together since 2001.

I asked Meighan why newer bands aren't making it into the coveted headline slots - something he thinks is simple to answer.

"They ain't good enough, I don't think they've got many big songs, you know what I mean?" He explained.

"If you're a big band you have big songs, it's simple as that isn't it, that's how I look at rock and roll, it's obvious isn't it?"

Pizzorno believes plenty of acts release exciting debuts, but struggle to keep their trajectory going.

"It's the follow-up record, it's amazing debuts and amazing starts but the second and third it starts to… it's hard for everyone though, anyone that's a songwriter, anyone that's in a band, to maintain at a level," Pizzorno explained.

"It's not easy, but it's there, if anyone wants it it's there, you've just got to come and get it."

But he thinks there is potential in a band Kasabian recently shared a stage with.

"We played with The Slaves, did a tour in America, and they're a phenomenal band," Pizzorno said.

"If I was a betting man, they won't be too far away [from headlining] in the next couple of years - maybe this album, maybe album after, they're an unbelievable, incredible band."

It's not long since Kasabian released their sixth studio album.

For Crying Out Loud came out in May 2017, and Pizzorno is coy about how much he's thought about their next record.

"There's always things going on," he said.

"We've got a nice little tour, we've got a beautiful European tour, we got South America, and then we'll see."

The band are known for being big supporters of Leicester City, and played two concerts when the club won the Premier League in 2016.

Meighan admitted he's caught World Cup fever this summer - and has high hopes for England.

"They might win it probably, they're sneaky, they might sneak through it," he said.

"There's always one team that surprises everyone and it might be England's turn this year," Pizzorno added.

"I didn't say they'd go all the way - I feel like they're definitely going to progress, probably get past the quarters.

"It would be nice."

Meighan agrees: "It would be great for the country as well, coz of spirits, it lifts everyone up, y'know."

Kasabian are continuing festival season from next month when they play Espacio Mad Cool in Madrid.

They return to the UK for shows in Edinburgh and Belfast in August.

https://news.sky.com