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sunburnacoustic · 1 year ago

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The Inner Symmetry

VISIONS Germany reviews Muse's set at Hurricane Festival in 2001 and interviews the band in issue No. 100, July 2001.

[Note: This article has been translated from German, and my German is nonexistent so I am no help here. Original article archived on archive.org]

Good Morning Beautiful

The summer of '99. A good year in every respect. Great records, great concerts, fine festivals. The Hurricane, for example, was one of those highlights that people talked about for a long time. Motorpsycho, dEUS, Chemical Brothers, Manson, Queens Of The Stone Age, Foo Fighters and dozens of other seal-of-approval gigs. That was nice.

Right in the middle: three young guys with playfulness, pressure and anger in their stomachs, and an album called "Showbiz". As well as half a dozen VISIONS editorial staff, who at eleven in the morning in a shockingly empty circus tent indulged in true emotional rapture. The reason: singer and guitarist Matthew Bellamy, bassist Chris Wolstenholme and drummer Dominique Howard celebrated live on German soil for the first time Songs like "Sunburn", "Muscle Museum" or "Uno" enthralled from the word go with brilliant guitar baths, magical presence and a punch that made the festival breakfast stick in your throat.

So there it was, the new Britrock sensation. Three pimply teenagers in shabby jeans and sneakers, who at first glance looked as if they had won the Sparkasse youth development prize. But they had prepared well, at home in tranquil Devon in rural nowhere in southern England. Had studied the records of Nirvana, Radiohead, Jeff Buckley and the Smashing Pumpkins in the children's room, met several times a week in the rehearsal room for years and worked meticulously on the details until they were really good.

Then, in early '99, they had just that little bit of luck: John Leckie, the production ace for Britain's rockier moments, found them fragrant and took them to the pampas. More precisely: to Cornwall to Sawmill Studios, where, in the middle of the forest and far away from any civilisation, bands like Oasis, Supergrass and the Stone Roses had already put down great albums. And now it would come, the "Showbiz".

In the afternoon of that day on the Hurricane [festival], during an interview in their then-still clearly small camper, three super good-humoured rockers lolled about casually on their couch and gibbered over the small group of girls who openly offered themselves as accompaniment for the afternoon at the concert earlier searched. Man, that's pretty exciting, all of this. Matthew shakes his head: "It's so surreal. Up until a few months ago we were still practicing our fingers sore in the rehearsal room and playing in pubs to a few people who thought we were shit. And now we're rocking here in Germany at one of the biggest festivals and having a lot of fun. Great, and now I'm going to see Placebo."

The World Is Yours

It's cold, it's winter '99. Despite the technical problems and ten hours on a snow-covered autobahn, Muse really impressed the almost sold-out Cologne Prime Club. Later, Dominic, Matthew and I are sitting in my old Opel, freezing like slugs in the three-star freezer and listening to tapes for a VISIONS blind date. They seem pretty much destroyed - the fact that "Showbiz" was released worldwide, at the same time and with great fanfare now hits mercilessly. You want them, preferably anywhere and immediately. Five club concerts in Europe, then as support for the Foo Fighters and Porno For Pyros through the States, and in between to Southeast Asia, where they already fill the big halls.

That takes its toll. As a jittery, flu-stricken Matthew soberly states, "It's damn hard to maintain a consistently high level when you've got absolutely no downtime. Right now, all I could do was sleep all day." Moderately enthusiastic they fight their way through the 15 songs on my tape, only the new Therapy? can really blow his mind. "My goodness, let's get started," says Dominic happily. "And how well they play to the point. Oh man, we still have to practise a lot."

Pleasure And Pain

Earlier this year in London: visibly relaxed, contentedly grinning faces on the band and label people. The weather is beautiful, the hotel is large and expensive, the lounge is comfortable and the media entourage is international. A relaxed afternoon with fine finger food and a lot of questions. And new sneakers for Matthew. Unconventionally cut old school sneakers with fashionable puma fur applications in black and bordeaux. He got it from the Japanese delegation because they heard that he likes that sort of thing. That's right - Matthew is overjoyed: "An excellent gift. Because that's how it is with shoes for me: I always only have one pair. I wear it exclusively and for as long as possible. Until I get a new one that I like.

With all due respect, Mr. Bellamy, I blurted out unintentionally, it was about time. Because his previous favourite pair, parked right next to my armchair, a festival-proven biotope of days gone by with the pungent aroma of ammonia and acid, could have a negative effect on sex appeal. "Heehee, finally someone else tells him!" giggles Dominic, who is lounging next to Matthew on the sofa and gnawing the toppings of bite-sized slices of pizza in layers.

Matthew takes it easy, like so many things these days. But they also have every reason to smile: Yesterday, at the first small club gig after a five-month studio break, it literally broke out of them. Pressure and fun in a family package, a superbly balanced balance between brute force and pure beauty, and all with a tightness and precision that very few trios can achieve.

Also, and even more important: The second opus "Origin Of Symmetry" is as good as in the can, and, so they say, turned out really smart. More ideas, more courage, more variation, more studios and more real human bones - the latter used as idiosyncratic sounding percussion instruments. “Yeah, that's about it,” Matthew judges. “We just wanted to trust each other more. We know more, can do more, so we want more.”

According to Matthew, the most important development, which was also unmistakable last night, is the following: “We have found out what it really means to be a three-man band and how we can optimally use these advantages. We've listened to a lot of Jimi Hendrix Experience, Cream, Nirvana, Primus and Police—the best trios in music history—and only focused on what makes them special: dynamics, interaction, precision, filling in empty spaces. I think we're getting that across quite well now.”

His trick: variation. In volume, mood, intensity and instrumentation. The latter especially, because Matthew has learned to play the piano. “I've been really into playing keyboards, Fender Rhodes and piano for a long time, and now I'm composing a lot with them too. I aspire to be at least as good at it as I am at the guitar. That's why we're going to integrate the keys into the concerts in the future. That gives some songs a completely different, completely new vibe.” Also: It also looks good. “I think it's cool: Sitting on the stage behind his piano, singing a ballad and having the blues. Almost a bit like Tom Waits.” A jealous crook,

“There are two sides to Muse – in the songwriting, on stage, in all of our music. They express the two opposite moods I can find myself in when making music. On the one hand you have the happy, light-hearted side that's just looking for a good melody and a well-rounded song. On the other hand, there is this thoughtful, serious, dark, often aggressive element that sometimes breaks out of me and creates wild, unbridled moments. That's what scares me sometimes on stage, because something almost always breaks. It's the borderline between pleasure and pain. You have to learn to deal with that.”

Truly, not an easy chunk. Especially when impressions like those of the past year rain down on you. Shrill situations and people, bad and good surprises, a life with left indicators and headlight flashers. Matthew says: “You're in the middle of Australia, the phone rings and they ask you if you can tour America with the Chili Peppers next week. And a week later you are suddenly in Japan and 20 girls are camping in front of your hotel room. And if you go out and talk to them, they make a big fuss and run away. At the bottom, you hop in the limo, drive to the venue, and then all hell breaks loose.”

That Rockstar Thing, Revisited

Easter in Düsseldorf, two months later. Almost everything is the same as it was a year ago when you were here for the first time: the same place (Philipshalle), the same occasion (Osterrocknacht). But: a different position. If you gave the afternoon heater back then, this year you are the secret main act for many. Also different from last time: the mood. Because it's bad. There are far too many interviews, viva is annoying and they don't feel like signing autographs. And then this ugly backstage room, of all things, the one next to the Stereophonics, who you always thought were stupid.

Especially since their singer Kelly Jones informed readers in detail in an NME interview about how independent and boring Muse were compared to them. And anyway: Matthew is a little snot with bad manners. As proof, a play follows in two acts. Part one consists of a very pissed off Mr. Bellamy, unannounced visits to the cloakroom neighbours, arguments, ugly scenes, and to top it all: red wine stains on your favourite sneakers. The end of the scene: even more bad mood. The evening seems to have passed.

But part two follows in no time, less than an hour later: Muse on stage. Professionals in a duel - with the weapons of the musician. Matthew is the grumpy, multi-talented frontman somewhere between languishing singer, maniacal guitarist and serene piano player. The new songs are stunners, today's drive is a very special one, and the Stereophonics playing after them look pretty lame and tired. Muse, the ‘young urban professionals’ of rock music, do what they do best: vomit out emotional apocalypses that have become songs, absorb anger and energy, surf on a sea of intensity, melody and groove.

They play skilfully on the keyboard of the rock 'n' roll premier league, and not only in musical terms, as the rest of the evening proves. We—that is, the industry-standard mix of media representatives accompanying the band—are sitting in the living room booth of their super-luxury bus on the way to the after-show party in a rented hotel suite. The band is upstairs in the living quarters of the rolling amusement hut; not alone, as giggling girls' voices tell us.

Later, in the suite, a motley crowd of roadies, journalists, musicians and label people demand music and alcohol. Matthew, Chris and Dominic are just taking a shower or something, the procurement of drinks is faltering, everyone is waiting, nobody knows why, for whom and in what condition.

But as soon as they are there, the fun trumpets with the aura of successful alternative careerists, things get turbulent. Beautiful girls give them beautiful eyes, complimenting pats on the back from every side, handshakes and a bit of casual socialising. Who would have thought: The insignia of being a star are now excellent for the three inconspicuous boys from the sheltered provincial idyll.

As it's almost getting light outside and my skull is getting darker and darker, I'm standing in front of a monstrous wide-screen TV with Dominic and an absinthe in my hand. My efforts to explain to him that the hotpacks from the Rockpalast broadcast that are just crossing the screen are called Clawfinger, were a very hot sweep in the early 90s and were allowed to replace the main act today, earns a weary shrug of the shoulders. "I've never heard that. Must have been before my time. I was just starting out on Nirvana and grunge at the time.” Young veggies, damn it.

Blood, Sweat & Abbey Road

Three weeks later we meet again, because in the meantime "Origin Of Symmetry" has hit the home CD player. It only needed a few runs to convey the certainty: This record also has it, something special, maybe even more than the debut "Showbiz", which in direct comparison seems downright tame.

The foundation: a handful of fantastic, aggressive rock tunes like "New Born", "Hyper Music" or the first single "Plug In Baby", with killer melodies and beats like slaps in the face. The walls: magical ballads like the suicidal blues "Feeling Good", the heart-rending "Screenager" or the sacred "Megalomania", which comes with church organs. The roof: confused glam rock with tasteful 80s keyboards ("Bliss"), a vocally losing-all-control of Matthew in the pathos anthem "Micro Cuts", or orchestral monumentals in the best prog rock tradition, as in "Space Dementia" or " Citizen Erased". A colossus of diversity, beauty and great songs.

The circumstances of this album production couldn't have been better either: They spent a few months in the four most expensive and best studios in England - including Peter Gabriel's 'Real World' mega complex, Pink Floyd's David Gilmour's studio houseboat and, of course, 'Abbey Road'. “Admittedly, we also had to take a deep breath at the end of the recording when we asked ourselves what the next record should actually be,” says Dominic. “But should we forego such opportunities because of that?”

During the recording sessions, they were again guided for long periods by the skilled production hands of John Leckie, but on four of the heavier songs they also put themselves in the care of another top-class sound carver: Tool producer Dave Bottrill. “I don't think anyone understands us like John, but it was a very important experience,” Matthew recalls. “Dave has a very different approach to a band and their music.” What's the biggest difference between them? “John Leckie is sound, arrangement and feeling. Dave, on the other hand, thrives more on the energy he thrashes into you while recording. It really helps you get the most out of yourself.”

With the finished high-quality recordings, Matthew says, they were drawn back “back home to our living room, now in terms of studio technology.” Namely to Cornwall to the 'Sawmill Studios', whose owners - and this is where we come full circle - meanwhile too is her manager, closest adviser and backup daddy. We are sitting in the bright sun on the terrace of a luxury hotel in Hamburg. As usual, Chris is the friendly, grinning, reserved observer. Dominic, the smug rascal with the dry jokes, asks me the name of the pretty promoter who is taking care of them today. And Matthew, the bright kid with a penchant for hyperactivity, meticulously paints every colour abrasion on his run-down Asian sneakers black again with an Edding.

Despite the stress of everyday touring, they make a vital, tidy impression today. The recipe is simple, explains Matthew. “First: eat better, take care of yourself a little. And secondly: going out a lot, having a few drinks with nice people who were at your concert. In short: lead a social life. If you just hang out at the hotel and lock yourself up, like we did on the last tour, then eventually all ties to normal life will be severed. You'll quickly become a bit ‘meschugge’ [mad?]. That's why we're going out a lot more among people this time. It helps you stay grounded. The only thing that is sometimes clearly neglected is sleep.”

Good keyword: Is there ever help? Surely you get offered at some after-show party, that junk. But no, no power to the drugs - at least the stupid ones. “Everything that is too speedy or too chemical drives me crazy, we don't really need that at all. The greatest feeling is something hallucinogenic, maybe a few mushrooms. But never on tour. At most at home, or rather in the studio if you got stuck musically and need a conceptual overview for a few hours.”

That's how they sit there: three smart young men in harmony with themselves, the world and the temptations lurking everywhere. Unaffected, reflected and extremely relaxed wolves of the music genius in the sheep's clothing of young normal people. “That's what life is all about,” says Dominic. “Being able to do exactly what you want to do most, in a relaxed, optimal environment.” “There are still phases where I catch myself thinking that all this is nothing more than is a great dream,” adds Matthew. “And then again there are moments when the full force of this crazy rock lifestyle hits my bones so much that I know: That must be reality.”

This is also reality, and current ones at that: Muse are the paragons of the new generation of boisterous rock emotionalists. The reactions to the album range from positive to overwhelming, the concerts are buzzing and everyone is happy. The fans, because they can indulge in pure Muse enjoyment. The label, because if everything goes well, you can soon earn a lot of money with it. And the band, because they can take all the freedom they want and still be loved fanatically and taken 100% seriously.

Matthew is a bit proud: “What I think is so great is that people really engage with us. Because that proves: We are not hype, everything is solidly developed success. When we try something new or overshoot the mark, nobody says: ‘Let them do it, they're crazy anyway.’ No, people try to understand why we do something. They take us seriously and deal with our ideas. It's a really great feeling to be liked for that, not because you had that one cool #1 hit with that catchy tune.”

Just An Ordinary Night

Their gig in the completely sold-out market hall on the same evening is rather meagre thanks to a terribly miserable sound, terrible scramble and the obvious listlessness of the actors. But today's after-show party in a hip cocktail bar on the Alster is quite solid. A constellation of journos, record bosses, musicians and happily grinning groupies, which is remarkably similar to the Düsseldorf drink, but today decidedly more top-class, basks in the wonderful feeling of being able to be there. And they do their job well, the three main actors. Are charming, funny, constantly surrounded and even concerned about the musical well-being of the guests - Dominic doesn't give up until he can soften the granite block programmed stoically to house by a DJ to let the complete new Weezer record run through.

"Is that a pattern every night when you're on tour?" my gin and tonic-soaked brain asks an equally heavily-counted Matthew as we wait for cabs at dawn. “Yeah, more or less. That's good: we have fun and gain experience. And then you can write songs about it again.” And hey presto, he's already sitting in the taxi with Dominic and a pretty companion. Hopefully he'll keep his shoes on later for the cozy part in the hotel. The one with the cougar pattern, the red wine stain, and the marker pen on the side.

#muse band #muse #matt bellamy #chris wolstenholme #dom howard #muse interviews #VISIONS Germany #VISIONS Magazine #2001 #Origin of Symmetry #Showbiz Muse #Muse band #translated interviews #(i.e. I'm sorry if things seem a bit off in the centre! I've tried reading and making sense of it all; few changes here and there #but if the word translations are wrong from the original German I can't help with that unfortunately)#man 90s and 00s journalists were packed off with a bottle of booze and a pad in hand and just told to have the maddest times eh #I suppose a true sacrifice to their art: they drove themselves a little insane to get to the heart of what a band was about— see their #ugliest faces and write about it #I kinda respect that; we don't have that anymore. No magazine has the budget for it and neither do rising indie/rock musicians #that's a whole way of life in music that's gone #music journalism #Muse Germany #long post

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viktheviking1 · 1 year ago

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Minor Spoilers for Season 2 episode 6 (Mostly it just wouldn't make sense without context)

In the dimly lit corner booth of the bar that stank of lost hopes and dreams.

"What ever happened to your quieves? Were they released into the wild to become sewer rats? Because I don't think those pampered pups would survive-"

"They're fine." Fizz interrupted then chuckled, "When Ozzie and I got back to our room, they were there waiting. Practically tackled us to the floor with kisses."

He scrolled through his phone to show Blitz pictures, "The limo driver scooped them up while we were having our fistfight in the street. And I'm sure glad too, because while most of them are tough, this white one is Precious, and she needs her Daddy most of all."

Blitz was surprised to see Fizz gush proudly over the little creature, but was happy to see this side of his friend again, "D*mn, I wish my daughter needed me. I can't even get her to call me Dad most of the time."

"Dad? You in a kinky relationship or some sh*t?” Fizzarolli raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, right.” Blitz smiled and started his own proud dad rant, “No, I actually adopted a kid!”

He pulled out his phone to show his own pictures and began rambling, “Her name’s Loona, she’s 22, and a bit emo. Or was it goth? Anyway, she’s working with me at the I.M.P. Oh, right. That’s the company I started. It stands for Immediate Murder Professionals. We kill people for sinners who still have revenge to get on the surface. Loona’s also pretty d*mn good at tearing humans to shreds, if I do say so myself. But most of the time she’s our wonderful receptionist who is very good at her job even if she starts fights with half of our clients. Most of them deserve it, anyway.”

“Wow . . . A lot can happen in 15 years, huh?” Fizz said, handing back the phone.

“Uh, yeah . . . I guess it does. And that isn’t even the half of it! I went to prison, and broke out.” Blitz winked.

“No f**king way! Are you sh*tting me? We were supposed to do that together! I gotta hear this.” Fizz rested his face in his hands, ready to listen.

A couple hours later, stumbling out of the bar came Blitz and Fizz had their arms around each other together as they made their way over to Blitz’s van, tipsy and trying to steady themselves.

“And then I said, ‘What family?’”Blitz said and they both cry-laughed together.

“You absolute little sh*t.” Fizz laughed, “And you said you weren’t a comedian anymore.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a special brand of humor I suppose. Only us circus f**kers really get it.”

“Buckzo would be so ashamed.” Fizz snorted.

Blitz guffawed, “Good!”

Fizz caught his breath and turned to Blitz, "You know, I haven't had such a good time since Ozzie took me to a rock concert with 8 dozen cans of silly string." He wiped a happy tear from his eye, "We should do this again sometime."

Blitz couldn't believe what he was hearing. Only one thing could make this better. He looked around and saw the street was entirely devoid of people.

Too drunk to think clearly, he smirked and pinned Fizz against the side of the van, "Ya know, the night doesn't have to end here. I could take you back to my place, or we could go to yours? I wouldn't mind some quality time with you and the Misses."

Fizzarolli felt a tail curl around his inner thigh, "I- uh- . . ."

"Come on, Fizzy~" Blitz cooed in his ear, "Show me some of what you've learned in the lust ring."

Fizz swallowed and tried not to shudder as he felt Blitz's tongue on his neck, "I'm not sure if-"

Blitz slid his tongue across Fizzarolli's sharp teeth. He felt Fizz melt in his hands and he loosened his grip on the jester's wrists. Fizz's metal arms wrapped around Blitz, pulling him in. Blitz let his hands wander; one found its way to Fizzy's lower back while the other held his chin. He pulled back a little, and looked into Fizzy's eyes. They both stared deeply into each other, intoxicated by the nostalgic scent of an old friend, and the taste of old feelings on their tongues.

"I've missed you so much." Blitz finally let himself say.

"Yeah," Fizz interlocked his mechanical fingers with Blitz's and smiled, "Me too."

Fizz leaned in and kissed him again.

_________________________

Read more here:

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catboywrites · 10 months ago

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Sooooooo you posted a follower ask and I’m now going to do all of them just to be silly and goofy 🫡

1. Honestly it’s a tie between watercolors and Sweet Tea and Energy Drinks. I love them both for very different reasons. I love Watercolors for the way reg is portrayed and the sass you give him while I love STaED for the angst and the adorableness that is 5 year old Harry.

2. For STaED it has to be Bambi. Seeing Sirius interact with Harry was fucking adorable and I will never get over it. For watercolors it’s torture and reward because of how you portrayed regulus’ panic attack and then his joy at being in an art store.

3. This is basic I know but honestly all the Regulus’ you’ve written have been amazing and I love them all so much. (I also really like pandora in watercolors)

4. Jegulus. Obviously.

5. Ahahahah bold of you to assume I’m not subscribed to all your works and read them religiously

6. When regulus was first introduced in watercolors and getting to see his inner thoughts about how annoying his attendant was

7. All of your fics have made me emotional. I have asked for so many tissues 😭

8. Honestly your writing is just really fucking good. Like my partners and I have a silly tradition where we read fanfics out loud to each other sometimes and most of the time it feels very stunted but with your writing it feels like an actual published book that we’re enjoying together.

9. Any of them. Any and all updates are amazing and I look forward to them always ❤️

10. So this isn’t a ship but I love your rep of platonic moonwater in Polaroids. The fact that regulus became an animagus for Remus will forever be one of my favorite hcs.

11. I’m just excited for when james and regulus finally get into a good fight in STaED. Like I’m here with my popcorn, soda, and regulus foam finger in the front row

12. Ive re-read bits and pieces but I plan on rereading watercolors for the new chapter so it’s fresh in my brain

13. I’ve mentioned this before but I scream rant to my partners about your fics. When STaED was first released I literally spent half an hour in my boyfriend’s car just talking to him about it.

14. Watercolors was the last fic I started reading from you because I thought that it just wouldn’t be for me but now it’s literally one of my favorites.

15. Will I ever get my tissues that have been lost in the mail for months?! /lh

Anyways this has been my contribution to the catboy ask bin. I will now yield the rest of my time 🫡

GREMLIN I'M GOING TO CRY SHUT UP YOU BEAUTIFUL PERSON I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ANSWERED THEM ALL!!

i woke up to find this in my inbox and this was such a nice surprise i'm literally so ; w ; ueueue come here i am going to smother you in hugs and kisses

one thing i want to say is, the absolute compliment of my fics reading like a published book. i was speechless. i just tap tap at my keyboard and then my beta yells at me for making her cry, i don't do anything fancy i swear. but that is such an ego stroker i'll admit, especially because it was always my dream to be an author growing up. i'm glad my silly little fics are something you and your partners can spend time together on and enjoy!

at this point, we're going to have to fist fight the post office to get you your tissues >:3

#ask the cat #gremlin i am putting you in my pocket forever

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twdbegins · 4 years ago

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when you can, can you do a Simon age gap smut, where the reader keeps turning down all the boys her age that try to get with her because she likes older men, can older men do it better and cuz ya know Simon is breathtaking, please and thank you

This got lost in my inbox somehow! So sorry for the wait!

Preferences

Simon x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Language.

Word Count: 1,651

“Are you saying it’s because I’m attractive?”

Being in your early twenties is a hard time for anyone. You’re now out of your adolescence years, being thrown into the deep end of adulthood and trying to navigate your way through life. Being thrown in a zombie apocalypse doubled your struggles.

“How many times do I have to tell you no?” You snapped at the puppy eyed guy that had been following you around for the whole day.

Travis was a sweet guy. He meant well and he was always kind to you, but you simply weren’t interested. He was rather persistent that you go out with him or even at least give him a chance. He tried to keep up with your fast pace as you whisked through the hallways.

“Come on, [Y/N]. I’d just like to go out with you sometime,” He attempted to persuade you; “It doesn’t have to be a romantic thing.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. That’s what they all said. It always ended up being a romantic thing, and you weren’t sure how many different ways you could turn him down easily before having to get aggressive.

“Travis. I said no and I mean no.” You said, stopping your fast walk and hoping he’d catch the sharp edge in your tone.

Defeated and dejected, Travis let out a heavy sigh and hung his head. He pushed past you to go sulk for the rest of the day. You didn’t like hurting anyone’s feelings, but sometimes the men around the Sanctuary just couldn’t take a hint. You leaned against the nearest wall, rubbing your forehead stressfully.

There weren’t many younger Saviors here. There were maybe 15 or so that were actually close to your age, and you had turned down probably about 8 of them over the course of your time at the Sanctuary. You just didn’t feel attraction towards any of them. You heard heavy footsteps approaching, accompanied with a low whistle.

“Damn, sweetheart. That’s the third one this week you’ve turned down.” The familiar voice bellowed.

You looked to see Simon striding towards you, his hand motioning to Travis who he had just passed by. You groaned.

“He’s the most stubborn one yet.” You announced, feeling a slight blush as Simon took the vacant spot next to you on the wall.

Truth was, if there were any man at the Sanctuary that you wanted the attention of, it was the infamous right-hand man. Simon was a real man. He was built, strong, intelligent, charming, and devilishly handsome. You had a gut feeling that he knew his way around a woman. If only there was a way you could put your theory to the test.

“Travis is a great guy.” Simon noted.

“Yeah, and so is Alan, Ron, and Cedric,” You said, referring to the other guys you had shut down; “I’m just not interested.”

“You know, most women would be flattered at the amount of attention you get.” Simon pointed out, crossing his arms and looking over at you with his dark brown eyes.

You could smell his cologne. It was faint, but it was heavenly.

“Yeah, but is it because they’re actually interested or because I’m the only available woman around?” You questioned aloud.

You were well aware that (other than Negan’s wives, who were strictly off limits) you were pretty much the only young, spry woman around. The Sanctuary was of male majority, and most of them were incredibly sexually frustrated, especially the younger ones.

“I was that age once. Trust me, there’s other reasons.” Simon said boldly, a grin appearing on his face.

You scoffed, but hid the deepening blush on your face. He was one smooth charmer.

“Are you saying it’s because I’m attractive?” You suggested, really hoping that’s what he meant.

He shrugged.

“Maybe. I mean, if I were in their shoes, I’d try like hell to even get you to spare me a passing glance,” He admitted; “I’m not so sure you’d want to get involved with me though. I’m not exactly 25 anymore.”

You felt a spark of thrill. You had a chance. This chance was too good and too perfect to pass up.

“You might be surprised.” You flirted, trying not to sheepishly smile.

He was surprised. He turned his frame towards you as realization washed over him.

“You saying that you have a thing for older guys?” He pondered.

“Maybe.” You repeated what he had said slyly.

He smirked, a dark chuckle erupting from his chest. He leaned his arm against the wall, drawing closer to you. He was dangerously close. Your lips almost touching.

“I thought I was crazy for thinking that you’re always eye fucking me,” He chided; “I guess my old intuition is still in working order.”

You laughed, slipping just your fingertips into his waistband. This is what you were interested in.

“I wonder what else of yours is in ‘working order’.” You hinted.

He hummed lowly.

“You sure you want to go for it?” He asked for consent.

“Hell yes.” You replied immediately.

His lips crashed into yours, rough kisses that were hungry and unexpected. His hands were under your ass in seconds, hoisting you around his waist and carrying you to his room that wasn’t too far from the hallway you were in. You were making out like a mad, horny teenage couple that hadn’t seen each other for a long summer. You had never been in his room before, but you didn’t care much for looking around at his decor.

He tossed you onto the bed, earning a squeak from you when your back hit the mattress. Both of your clothes were strewn across the room, your naked bodies pressed against one another warmly. His lips were hot on your neck as he sucked harsh hickeys, the slight pain and immense pleasure were a perfect mix. Your moans and the sounds of his lips on your skin were the only sounds in the room.

“You’re already so wet.” He said, reaching and rubbing slow circles onto your clit.

You whimpered out, his fingers working magic on your sensitive sex. He slipped two of his fingers inside of you, his fingers curled and massaged your inner walls, feeling how she was coated with slickness. You had almost forgotten that this was supposed to be about him, but that didn’t stop you from rolling your hips as you began to grind into his fingers.

“Shit. Oh...” You breathed out as he pumped his fingers and curled mercilessly.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” He growled into your ear; “You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of seeing you like this. You deserve someone who knows what they’re doing to make you feel good.” He said, bringing you close to the beginning of your climax.

But you didn’t want to finish just yet. You stilled his hand, making him withdraw his fingers. He looked you dead in the eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. You felt prideful when he did so.

You purposefully moaned in his ear, sending him over the edge. He was between your knees, having your legs around his waist in seconds. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you firmly around him. He scanned over your naked body that was sprawled out on the bed.

Seeing you laid out underneath him, squirming with expectation was arousing and maddening. There were so many things that you did (some intentional and some not) that drove him absolutely wild. You way you bit your lower lip whenever you caught him staring at you, only using your imagination to wonder what he was thinking when he looked at you.

He pushed his shaft through your folds, relishing and groaning at the feel of you once more. Your alluring sigh signaled him to start moving, pulling out and back in at a rapid pace. Your inviting sounds were music to his ears.

You pushed your body down to meet each of his thrusts, allowing him to hit just the right spot. You could feel the pent up tension that he had built up with each rough entrance back into you. He held your hands above your head, his other hand pinning your hips to the mattress.

He pulled out again and one particular slam back into you caused you to moan louder than normal, causing Simon to speed up even more. Your chest bouncing with his every thrust. You were completely focused on the feeling of him dragging in and out of you. He let out a noise that resembled a growl that sent vibrations all through your body. Every cell in your body felt like it might combust with pleasure.

“You’re such a good girl. Taking me so well,” He said thrusting hard and pounding back into you; “I didn’t know what I’d been missing out on.”

Your face was contorted with ecstasy and pleasure. He watched how your breasts bounced every time he railed back into you, your loud sounds were music to his ears.

“You feel so fucking good. There’s no way Travis could’ve fucked me this good.” You praised, meeting his thrusts halfway.

Simon moved your leg over his shoulder and pounded into you even harder now. You almost cried out at the new angle. Your other leg tightened around him, his dick twitching deep within you.

You involuntarily clenched around him with a pitchy cry, releasing and hitting your high. He felt his own spiral, thrusting a time or two more and spilled his release into you. He groaned in solace, pulling out of you. Your hearts were pounding and your minds were racing. You looked up at him and smiled with joy as the look of euphoria in his eyes. You persuaded him to fall next to you so he didn’t totally collapse.

You grinned at him breathlessly.

“Yeah. I am definitely into older guys.”

#simon #simon x reader #simon twd #the walking dead simon #twd simon #simon x reader twd #simon the walking dead #simon twd x reader #simon twd fanfic #simon twd imagines #twdbegins

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spiltscribbles · 4 years ago

Note

Im so excited!!!! Here’s a little “It’s always been you. You and only you.” sprinkled in with Green-Eyed Epiphany

~Notes: OMFG bubby!!!! You are so beyond adorable! Thank you So SO much for the sweetness!! I really hope you like this XS and fingers crossed this fits the promptXS <3 <3 <3

Prompt Smash Game | Send Me A Prompt💜 | A Reblog Is Like A Huge, Warm Hug!!!

~R: my mom’s working the night shift at the clinic👀👀

~S: Kinky😏

~S: I can be there in 15

~R: make it 20 and get Chinese x

~S: sometimes I think ur j using me for the food

~R: and bring henny😈

It’s seventeen minutes since Remus sent the last text when the front door of his modest ranch house begins to thump with a familiar wrapping that’s three quick knocks followed by two slower ones, and he has to wrestle down the eager grin from his face when he swings it open to find one of his closest friends standing at the threshold in that customary weathered, leather jacket that he found two summers ago when Remus had taken him thrifting for the first time, and an impish sort of smirk that definitely would look ridiculous on anyone else, but only makes Sirius all the more maddeningly attractive.

“What took so long?” Remus asks mildly, pulling him indoors by the sleeve and gesturing for him to set the goods on the kitchen counter once they cross the small foyer.

“You wound me, Lupin.” Sirius retorts, quick-silver eyes flashing before he pins him against the island and puts his hands on either side of his waistline with more gentleness than Remus would’ve expected before they began this whole sorted affair— Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word for it?

It’s not an affair, or tryst, or carrying on or whatever the fuck else Lily says when she’s teetering on the wrong edge of tipsy and thinks it’s her right to call Remus out on his bullshit— on his stupid, beyond obvious crush he’s been fostering for one of his closest friends since junior high.

It’s none of those things— It’s not nearly as dramatic.

It’s just— Just that yes, Remus has been harboring a tiny infatuation for Sirius ever since that first day of the seventh grade when he had moved to this tiny, coastal town after his parents divorce. But how could he have not? Sirius is hilarious, and a genius, and so gorgeous that sometimes it feels like his insides are twisting up whenever he glances over at him. And on that first day, he had just caught Remus’s eyes from across the library shelves before classes begun, and smiled in that uniquely electric way of his, and asked if Remus could put slime in a very specific locker, (Snape’s), for a very specific reason, (Because he kept following Lily around like a creep), on account to no one suspecting the new kid. And yeah— Remus was lost on him an embarrassing amount from then on.

Sure, it can be regarded as kinda pathetic on Remus’s end— kindling this nest of emotions so close to the chest— but also it’s not as if he’s been lovestruck by his crush, like it’s some sort of waterlogged scarf he’s got dragging him down. His attraction towards Sirius is like a soft melody that’s swelling in the backdrop of all their interactions, nothing overwhelming— not a flood plane, not yet at least. It’s warm, and it’s familiar, and it’s persistent like a flutter of a humming bird’s wings. And Remus doesn’t mind pining over someone as fantastical as Sirius Fucking Black.

Graciously, in some strike of incredible luck, Sirius never caught on to Remus’s silly feelings, not until that night when they were watching an old movie in Remus’s basement while James and Lily were celebrating an entire year together— save for all their sudden stops and just as speedy starts— and Peter was visiting his grandmother in Tampa Bay. It was the first time they had been alone together since Remus broke up with Caradoc for the final time, and Sirius just looked so fucking good in that casual, white v-neck and his skinny jeans that make him look like some echo of James Dean on his best day. And Remus isn’t sure who exactly moved forwards first, or how the fuck Meg Ryan wandering the Seattle streets was some sort of aphrodisiac, or why Sirius— who could have any guy he would ever want— was actually humoring him, but one second they’re lying down on the sofa— Remus caged between Sirius’s expanse and the cushions behind them— and the next he’s tasting PBR on Sirius’s lips, and has got a fist full of his dark hair, and is thrilling at the feeling of Sirius’s thigh between his legs. And yeah— it just happened like those sort of things are want to do, and by the end of it they were sticky and breathless and diffident in ways they never been around one another, in ways Remus reckons Sirius has never been around anyone.

But the next weekend, when Sirius’s latest sorta— but not really— boyfriend had canceled on their dinner plans, Sirius wandered over to Remus’s bedroom window and it was another tumbling of frenzied hands and loosen buckles and thrusting hips. And then it just became an easy release— a sort of poetry, an understanding in all but name.

And that’s fine. They don’t have to talk about it. Remus knows that Sirius isn’t the type to settle down with a partner, to go bowling for a date, or texting countless messages that amount to nothing at all at the end of the conversation, or putting up with another dude’s parents taking photos of them before leaving to prom or homecoming or whatever the fuck else. And Remus is sorta sick of the idea of love, of trying so hard only to end up heartbroken and eating a gallon of Chubby Bunny in his favorite sweats and cursing John Hughes for pretending Hollywood romances can happen to ordinary high schoolers.

So yeah— This thing they’ve fallen into with each other is good. They’re friends— best friends— and they have fun and they’re apparently really fucking good in bed together, and Sirius never looks at Remus with pity when he spots him gazing at his profile absentmindedly, and he doesn’t mind when Remus traces invisible designs against his skin when they’re soaking in the after glow, and he never treats him any different. Sirius still slings his arm around Remus’s shoulders when they walk down the halls, and he still buys him his favorite chocolates when he feels poorly, and he still faces Dorcas's disapproving wrath when he drags Remus out of the library to have a little mischief— whether it’s smoking a blunt in the abandoned skatepark in town or playing some stupid prank on those assholes in their year.

For all intent and purposes, they still behave the same they’ve always acted around one another, but just with the miraculous addition of mind-blowing and dulcetly ductile sex.

This is good, this is fun, this is completely untethered from the bull shit of romance.

And if Remus mouths against the juncture of Sirius’s neck a little too intensely— trying to pry off the memory of the hickey Sirius had been sporting after spending the weekend with Gideon Prewett— Well no one has to be any the wiser, and by the sound of Sirius’s hitched breaths, he seems not to mind even slightly.

“Except my apology?” Remus asks, more coy than he ordinarily acts as he drops his arms around Sirius’s neck, and leans on the balls of his feet to whisper against his temple.

“Oh, you’re such a bastard,” Sirius retorts, labored as all get out, kneading his fingers into Remus’s ass that’s only covered by the thin layer of his plaid pajama bottoms. “You are going to have to do a lot more for me to forgive the lip.”

Remus laughs in a stammering sort of way as Sirius tugs him along, walking backwards to his room that he’s become incredibly intimate with since the first time they did this three months ago.

“Sirius, the spring rolls— they’re gross if we have to heat them up again.”

“I’ll postmate us knew ones,” Sirius insists, covering Remus’s mouth with his own with fervor. “C’mon babe, do not tease me like this.”

Sirius must’ve caught his mistake, because he suddenly goes as red as Remus feels— The pet name was to close for comfort considering their strictly friends with benefits nature, but Remus is already half hard, and he really does not want to end this, so with a sly wink, he returns to nipping at Sirius’s jawline, rutting against him in a very unambiguous way. “Fine, if you really don’t think you’ll need the nourishment for your stamina?”

The words have their intended effect, and Sirius makes a small growl deep in his throat before practically tearing off Remus’s shirt, and dipping beneath the waistline of his pants, scooping him up and racing to the bed.

And they get lost in one another beneath the pale glow of Remus’s lamplight and the moon spilling through the window, relearning each others every patch of skin for minutes on end that wax and wane like the delta of ocean waves, unspooling into something tangible and tantalizing with every kiss punctuated with teeth that Sirius trails across Remus’s collarbone, and the way Remus palms greedy hands up and down Sirius’s back until he gets the hint and undresses.

“Well come on, you’re not an invalid, Lupin.” Sirius jeers and Remus chuckles as he follows suit until they’re both finally, blessedly nude. And with an easy assurance of them having done this more than a dozen times now, Remus crawls into his lap and kisses him straight on the mouth, preening how Sirius moans against him— canting up wantonly and grabbing at his hips with a sort of intensity that will probably leave bruises in the shape of the pads of his fingers, and Remus absolutely adores the idea of that, feels something hot and needy and desperate unfurl in his gut as he presses their mouths more forcefully together, going buzzed when he gets to relish in the sensation of their tongues running against one another, and the taste of the ridges on the roof of Sirius’s mouth, and the slide of the soft skin of his inner cheek— gasping when Sirius pulls away abruptly, panting an almost reverent, “Mother of God, Remus,” and tackles him flat on his back before they commence, with the addition of both their hard, leaking cocks thrusting against one another and Sirius’s hand in Remus’s hair pulling that bit more forcefully while his other one roams the dips and planes of his side— skirting against the divots of his stomach muscle before he wraps it around the pair of them and begins to pull in earnest, to the rhythm that Remus swears was strung from the heavens above.

“Oh— Oh, yeah— Sirius,” Remus breathes out in a haggard sort of way, words that he refuses to ever call a mewl even if they’re stretched out and crackle with emotion.

“Yes—, just say that again,” Sirius practically demands, his mouth completely covering his ear in a wet, hot heat— his teeth scraping against the soft shell. “Remus, baby, just say my name, tell me you want it.”

And God, Remus is feeling so heady— like he’s floating and he couldn’t possibly come back down— that he probably would’ve listened to anything Sirius asked of him, especially if he does that thing again, when he squeezes the slick length of them with a tad more force than they usually play at. “Sirius, Sirius. Sirius, please, I’m close,” Remus shrills in an unsteady staccato— his normally smooth tenner going pitchy and pleading, and he can feel his toes curling, can feel the eminent release coming— What he does not expect is to feel something poking at his entrance, didn’t expect to be struck dumb by the sensation of the tip of Sirius’s large, dry finger poking right there, right against the fluttering hole, while he’s still pumping them in tandem, and the second it hooks inside Remus goes a startling sort of static , sees blasts of white blotching his vision and his head thrown back and his dick spirting out heavily against Sirius’s deliciously defined torso.

And he’s just breathing heavily now, during the come down, can barely make out anything through the heavy weight around him, the one cushioning his head— but he does graciously feel Sirius’s cock fucking into his own hand against Remus’s thigh and then idly the feeling of his come splattering him, but then after that he can just barely hear the distant padding of feed against floorboards, followed by a wet washcloth being dabbed against his skin. So when he finally forces himself to focus, he sees Sirius cleaning himself off, wrapping it into the pair of joggers Remus was wearing earlier and tosses it to the corner of the room.

“Rude,” he scolds with no heat, shuffling closer to him when Sirius lies down besides him once more and circles an arm around his torso.

“THat’s what you get when you’re acting like a lazy fuck,” Sirius counters, smug as all get out while he threads a hand in Remus’s hair.

“Hmm, didn’t see that in the papers recently. Is it a new law?”

“Yeah, actually just past on the senate floor.”

“Interesting… Well considering that only one of us has a senator for a father, I really have to ask to see the power-point you shared with him to get this bill through the stalemate,” Remus’s head bounces against Sirius’s chest from the force of his laughter at the barb.

“Oh, stuff it, Lupin.”

Hiding his smile into Sirius’s skin, Remus does as told, and they both just lie there, as if everything’s gone suspended just for the pair of them, just so Remus can count out the beats of Sirius’s heart pulsing against his sternum, and can feel the way their legs tie into one another, and can feel Sirius mouthing against his temple, blowing his curls with every exhale.

And Remus thinks that he’d do anything to remember this exact moment for every single day from here on out.

But then the quiet is abruptly and permanently punctured by the sound of his phone chirping, and he has to breathe in deeply before separating from the warmth of Sirius, and fishes down for the device that’s still crammed into the side of his bed from where he had hidden it after that initial text.

“Is Dearborn still on your ass to try again?” Sirius asks, a bit stilted.

Remus wonders if he’s just imagining the tension twisted in the question, but reasons that Sirius’s never been Caradoc’s biggest fan, so he just shrugs it off— really doesn’t want to get into some stupid argument about his asshole of an ex when he’s still feeling so content. “Nah, ’s James. Still trying to force me to go to the homecoming dance with you guys.”

“Oh,” Sirius retorts, lips pinched while watching Remus redress. “You should go, Marls is pregaming and you know she always gets the good shit.”

Remus shakes his head while puttering over to find a new pair of sweats and a sweater. “Nah, just not feeling it this year— Erm, you’re taking Gid I assume.” He’s not sure why he asks it, supposes he’s always a glutton for some pain and shitty feelings to inspire his playlists habit, but also maybe it’s him trying to sober himself. Trying to remember that despite this— despite everything they just did and how easy it’s always been for them to fall into step with one another— Remus isn’t good enough to be seen with Sirius in the light of day. He’s probably not handsome enough or cool enough or something else that makes Sirius absolutely revolted from the thought. Probably that he’s beyond bookish, and looks painfully virginal and isn’t nearly as sly or snarky as his other conquests.

Truly, Remus should just be thankful that Sirius wants this at all, he shouldn’t be so crazed over the why nots of the situation— it’ll only kill him trying to be something he never could actually affect with any credence.

Schooling his features to something passably indifferent, Remus pivots to face him again, is startled when he finds Sirius still naked and staring at him with a burning sort of intensity in his storm cloud eyes.

“He hasn’t said anything, but I guess he’s assuming as much,” he finally says, running a hand through his overgrown fringe, that familiar twitch of the corner of his mouth grabbing Remus’s attention. The one that tells him Sirius is actually irritated about something he’s not letting himself say out loud.

“Erm, good? Gid’s a decent guy.” Remus mutters, head ducked once it gets to a point that he can’t stand Sirius looking at him like that— Not after how blissed out and ferocious he had been groping every inch of Remus only moments ago. “You guys are nice together.”

And it’s like the breath before the worst of storms when his words collapse between them, making the pregnant silence go suddenly suffocating.

“Right,” Sirius intones once Remus levels their gazes, hurriedly standing and collecting his own clothes, fracturing the moment completely. “Right. Whatever, yeah. I’ll go to the fucking dance with fucking Gideon Prewett. That’s good.”

“Sir—“

“No, it’s fine. You can just stay home, and mourn over that douchebag Dearborn some more, even though you ending it with that dick was the best decision you could’ve made, Remus, and I’m not even saying it just because I’m petty. He is a prick, and you need to finally get a clue how much better you deserve, damn it!”

Remus’s head feels like it’s swimming. Why is Sirius so angry all of a sudden? Does he not like Gideon? Why can’t he just cut it off like so many times before? And why the hell is he petty over Caradoc? The entire situation feels like someone’s just handed him a wedge of Swiss cheese and told him to knit it back together.

“What is up your ass?” He decides is an appropriate enough question for his floundering, and shutters back only slightly at how fuming Sirius looks when he rounds on him— clothes disheveled and fearsome glower heavy on his face.

“Whatever Remus, if you can’t see that Dearborn is bad news—“

“I’m not pining for Dearborn,” Remus interjects, really doesn’t feel like listening to one of Sirius’s ridiculous diatribes about him, not now. Not when he’s still so bewildered by everything else. “Why would you think that?”

The fire in Sirius’s eyes vanishes as quickly as someone blowing on a candle, and it’s his turn to gawk, gaping at Remus, shoulders dragged down and eyes wide. “Wait— You’re not?”

“No…. I haven’t even thought about him for weeks.”

“Oh.” Sirius looks contemplative for a moment, before the righteous anger that only he could ever wear with such conviction, melts over him once more. “All right, then what the fuck is this?”

Remus stiffens, feels his veins lace with ice, an his breath catch somewhere in his throat, really does not think he’s ready for this conversation. “This?”

“Yes, Remus, this!” Sirius demands, sounding harsh in comparison to the barely croak Remus had spoken with. “Listen I don’t care if you want me to wait some more, if you need to lick your wounds or whatever. But why are you like pushing me on other people? Why do you want me not to be around? why do you want me to go out with other dudes?”

Remus lies back on the chest of drawers now, feels beyond dazed. “What the hell are you talking about, Sirius?”

Sirius clenches his teeth right then, the hinge of his jaw going taught

before he skulks closer, not letting Remus drop his gaze. “Is it me? Is it that you just can’t see me that way? Are you just stringing me along or something? Because I really didn’t think that was your style, but if it’s that, then Remus—“

“Stringing you along?” Remus asks in a voice barely above a whisper, just needs to feel his lips forming the absolutely risible words, even if it makes it so something dark passes across Sirius’s beauteous features.

“Remus, I swear to God! Stop repeating everything I’m fucking saying!”

“Then start making some damn sense!” Remus snaps, suddenly heated as he straightens and pins him with a proper scowl. “What in holy hell are you going on about?”

“God! Do I have to spell it out!” Sirius barks, cutting the final step dividing them and grabbing for Remus’s shoulders with a tight squeeze. “I know you just wanted to fuck around with someone after Dearborn showed his extreme dickitude, and listen, I was so fucking ecstatic that you wanted me for it. But I can’t do this in-between shit anymore! I’m sorry, but I can’t! And I get if this is annoying, but I’ve been crazy for you for so long. And I just can’t keep myself at an arms length anymore, not now that we’ve really had each other, not after you let me actually touch and taste and fuck you and— Damn it, this isn’t coming out the way I wanted, all right! Damn it, maybe Evans was right and I should’ve made queue cards like some dumb ass— But then James pointed out how unromantic that was, and Marlene said—“

Gently, Remus puts his shaking fingers against Sirius’s lips, effectively killing off anything else he’s about to say. And slowly, everything is beginning to slot into place, and he’s so spiteful over how they’ve been such idiots this entire time— swears to put salt into Lily’s coffee next time he sees her.

“I didn’t know you actually were into me Sirius.”

Stunned, Sirius’s dark brows hike up to his hairline. “How the hell didn’t you know?” He demands against Remus’s fingers, thunderous and insulted looking.

“Because you never fucking said as much!” Remus defends himself, feels a mangled sort of laughter squirming out. “God, we’re idiots.”

“We’re?” Sirius asks, hesitant and red faced before Remus moves his hand to peck softly against his mouth.

“I’ve been half in love with you for years you absolute ass-wipe, it’s always been you! You and always you.” Remus tells him breathily, still fighting down the last remnants of his actual, god forsaken giggle— like he’s thirteen again and getting buzzed off his mom’s peach wine coolers. “I only never said anything because I never thought I’d have a chance with someone like you— Someone so— so— Someone so amazing.”

The smile Sirius favors him with right then is something absolutely incandescent, and his eyes shimmer with a very distinct sort of joy that Remus wonders if anyone besides him has ever witnessed. “Then you’re definitely the biggest idiot between us, Lupin.” Sirius declares, knocking their foreheads together, and lacing his hand into Remus’s own before squeezing meaningfully.

“Fuck off,” Remus snorts, presses forwards for another languorous kiss, not feeling in danger of being swallowed whole any more— finally letting himself drown and knowing that Sirius will be there to pull him back up no matter what.

“Oh, I could get used to this,” Sirius smirks, snakes his arms around Remus’s waste that bit tighter.

“Hmm, there is the problem that I usually don’t put out until at least the third or fourth date,” Remus says mildly.

“Pff, ‘s fine, Lupin,” Sirius insists, grinning beatifically. “I like you being a hussy for me!— Oof, careful with the merchandize, you were speaking some real exaltations about that part of my anatomy not too long ago.”

Moving his knee from the point at hand, Remus sticks out his tongue at him. “See if you ever get any ever again, Sirius Black.”

When Sirius laughs, it sounds like the strike of lightening against unmarked land, and the honey cloaked side of a knife’s edge, and like everything splendid Remus has ever known. And he thinks that yes, he could get used to this right back.

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #REMUSXSIRIUS #SIRIUSXREMUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #Spilt Ink

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whyqueerbaitingisbad · 4 years ago

Text

movies & shows

cracks knuckles* alright this is going to be more of a rant than an analysis because i’m basing this on both my research, but also how it felt to personally be baited by these shows. there are obviously more pieces of bad (almost every horror movie) and good ones but these are the ones i’ve watched.

please keep in mind that i am but one queer and everyone has different opinions.

Supernatural (CW) 2005

This show is 15 years old and just ended. From season 5 till 15, there has been tension between two of the lead characters. They were constantly shipped together and not only did the entire fandom know about this ship but so did almost all of Tumblr. On top of that, the actors and show runners knew about it as well. Which is why it makes it ridiculous that it was constantly pushed aside while the romantic coding kept happening, even after show runners dismissed it as being intentional. The Destiel (Dean x Cas) case has been going on for years, and as the show came to its end, many fans had hope. But N O P E. Instead, we got a love confession from Cas where Dean looked like he was near constipated and the Cas was killed and sent into a fiery place that was not hell but s u p e r h e l l.

… w hy.

Sherlock (BBC) 2010

Just like Supernatural, this show was renown on Tumblr for not only how good it was, but its hinting at a potential relationship between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. But again, like Supernatural, the intentional tension between the two characters was denied by producers. This caused an uproar within the fandom, and even left some people believing that, after the last season aired, it had been a joke and the producers were hiding a “secret, unaired season” because they had felt so robbed by this show that had implied something and denied it.

The 100 (CW) 2014

We got lesbians. We got background gays. We were happy. Then, all of a sudden, one of them is killed for no reason. Did it advance the plot? No. Was she fighting and died in battle? lol no. She was doing literally nothing and got shot and died. And then the producers kept bringing her back once a season in the form of a ghost or illusion because why? Because she was a fan favourite queer character. ✨bury your gays and sparingly bring them back for profit anyone?✨

Voltron: Legendary Defender (Netflix) 2016

*deep breathe* This one is a special disaster. Not only was there romantic tension and romantically coded scenes for 7 seasons, but producers, voice actors and artists working on the show repeatedly said “don’t worry klance (Keith x Lance) shippers, you’ll be happy”

. … w h e r e??? You code one of their scenes with a sunset in the background while they talk about love and then one of them goes on a date with someone who has declined his advances for 7 seasons but now in season 8 decides to do a full 180. Not only that, but you announce at a Comic Con (a convention) that a character is gay and has a fiancé, only to kill off the fiancé and never make it explicit in the show except at the last second of the last episode where he marries a no name character.

Personally, i’d like to say a big fuck you to the show that strung me along for 2 years and never stopped saying we’d be happy to then pull the rug out from under us and call us crazy for thinking anything from the past 8 seasons was intentional.

Scooby-Doo (2002)

While not being outwardly queerbaiting, this movie’s filmmaker has just revealed some shocking news, which wasn’t at all shocking to the gays who had watched this movie over the years. In July of 2020, James Gunn, the filmmaker of Scooby-Doo, revealed in a podcast that, initially, Velma was explicitly gay in his script, but then the studio watered it down until it became nothing. This isn’t an example of baiting as much as it is changing a character’s initial design to “better fit an audience”. The worst part of all this is that with Velma’s character having been written with a l i t t l e queer subtext, people had been theorizing about if since the movie came out, but were always yelled at by the internet for “imagining something that isn’t there”. But now, even with it being said that the initial point was for her to be gay, people have no objections to still refusing to accept it. Why?? So we can’t get the subtext gays OR the confirmed gays?? Make it make sense.

Brooklyn 99 (NBC) 2013

To have the queer characters firstly introduced without mentioning their sexualities and have it brought up naturally was so goddamn nice to see, because no one does a big deal about it unless they ask for that. This show is amazing in general but the way they show their queer characters is *chefs kiss*.

She-ra and the Princesses of Power (Netflix) 2018

This. Show. My heart SOARS. It's just a remake of an old show so absolutely nothing was ever expected, but then it was sprinkled in and ENDED WITH A BANG. And it was so beautiful and real to see the struggle of two friends who care for each other and want to be together but have different visions of the world fall in love. And they also had characters with disabilities, a non-binary character and jUST SUCH A GOOD SHOW.

Kipo and The Age of Wonderbeasts (Netflix) 2020

This is a case where you go into it not expecting anything and are BLOWN AWAY by the bare minimum. And not because it’s bad!! It's mind blowing because this is the simple representation we need!! Not something over the top, but an every day relationship. It’s just two boys falling in love and going on dates and being nervous around each other, yet i was so stunned. Because it’s not shown enough. I should not be this excited over something that should be this normal. 10/10 though this show is so good for all kinds of representation.

Steven Universe (Cartoon Network) 2013

This show did so much for queer representation with its general message of loving everyone and loving who you want. Especially since it was aired on Cartoon Network, a channel for kids, it was able to help normalize something so looked down upon in some circles. It made it easy to watch for s o m e people because it's a cartoon but it's so beautiful to see these ladies so in love with each other, both platonically and romantically and we see them have a family dynamic that isn’t a “nuclear family”. Rebecca Sugar (creator) really said “lemme just break all stereotypes real quick”.

Adventure Time (Cartoon Network) 2010

It's the “knowing a fanbase shipped something so hard that the creators made it canon” for me. This relationship had been theorized by fans for years, but it had never been explicit in the show. When the finale episode came out and the two shared a kiss, it was a moment of celebration. The producer of the show said that it had not really been planned but when the episode was being made, the choice of what happened was given to one of the artists (bless your soul Hanna K. Nyströmthe). And as the show releases little bonus episodes, its latest was centered around Marceline and Bubblegum and their relationship. AND WE LOVE TO SEE OUR DOMESTIC LESBIANS BEING HAPPY AND IN LOVE.

Yuri on Ice!!! (anime) 2016

The fact that an A N I M E gave us a love story between two men is mind boggling and it makes me so happy!! Especially because it's a Japanese show and they’re very conservative about these things just makes it more emotional. The creators said they wanted to make the anime take place in a world where gay/straight isn’t a thing, it’s just love (ladies, you’re going to make me cry). So as the weekly episodes came out and fans start speculating, THEY GAVE US THE LAST FEW EPISODES FULL OF ROMANCE AND EMOTIONAL SCENES BETWEEN THE TWO AND THEN THEY GET R I N GS?!???!! You watch for the figure skating, you stay for the figure skaters that are in love.

Shadowhunters (Freeform) 2016

*insert me being frustrated that the actors are straight so we can move on from that disappointment*

This show really said “let’s name a whole episode after this couple because they deserve it”. But seriously, they gave us two characters whose entire plot does not center around their sexualities while still showing us the differences in a relationship between someone experienced and someone new at this. They were both powerful and amazing characters apart from each other, with their own story lines and goals but they loved each other so much omgs. SO MUCH.

It was so great to watch.

Love, Simon (2018)

There’s a lot of disagreement on whether this movie is good representation or not. However, we need to take into consideration that this was Hollywood’s first movie with a main character that was gay, where the story’s focus was on Simon’s love story. The biggest problem, for me at least, was that the actor playing Simon is a straight man and not queer. My problem is not with him, but the fact that there are other actors that are gay and that could have played Simon just as well. (the love interested was however played by a queer actor so ✨progress✨)

All in all, this movie does represent what a lot of queer kids have to go through: being outed at school, how they then come out, the bullying and doubt they go through.

The book is also really good.

Call Me By Your Name (2018)

This movie is so aesthetically pleasing and was able to capture the confusion and heartbreak felt by a boy who’s struggling with his own feelings towards a man. His inner conflict and joy and l o v e he feels but doesn’t know how to deal with is so well communicated through the screen and just breaks your heart because it feels so real.

But again, they could’ve gotten gay actors to play gay characters…

through having this list here, i want to show you that it’s not hard for creators to give good queer representation. the LGBTQ+ community isn’t asking for much, we just want to be well represented on screen as just a regular character, not some token queer kid there for the diversity points. having been exposed to so much queerbaiting and just not seeing any representation on screen, i always get over-excited when i see a queer character, and that’s not how it should be. it should be a normal thing, something you can find in most pieces of media, just like there’s a straight white cisgender person in everything.

and they seriously need to start casting queer actors for queer characters...

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mylifeincinema · 3 years ago

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My 22 Most Anticipated Films of 2022!

I don’t have much of an intro this year. This list isn’t concrete, as I’m sure there’s a bunch of others I’d be more excited about if I had thought of them/known about them when I compiled it. Anyway, in chronological order, here are…

My 22 Most Anticipated Films of 2022!

1. The Worst Person in the World (Joachim Trier) – 2.4

I recently decided to categorize this one as a 2022 film despite it being a player in the 2021 awards season because of the fact that there’ll be no real public release for it until February. The buzz is enough to get excited about it, but it was Trier’s Thelma that made this one bump the sure to be silly and fun Sonic the Hedgehog 2.

2. The Batman (Matt Reeves) – 3.4

Matt Reeves was enough, but then there’s that refreshingly clever cast, cinematography by Greig Fraser and a new Michael Giacchino score. Damn!

3. The Northman (Robert Eggers) – 4.22

A Viking revenge thriller by the man who brought the world The Witch and The Lighthouse would make this list immediately, anyway. But then this also reunites Eggers with Anya Taylor-Joy and Willem Dafoe and has a cast that also includes Ethan Hawke and the one and only Björk.

4. Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (Sam Raimi) – 5.6

Oh, c’mon… have you met me?!?

5. Top Gun: Maverick (Joseph Kosinski) – 5.27

I’ve never been the biggest fan of Top Gun, but the stunt-work here is going to make this a must-see on the biggest screen possible.

6. Jurassic World: Dominion (Colin Trevorrow) – 6.10

The World installations in this franchise haven’t been the best, but they’re my inner-child whose life was changed by Jurassic Park will always be excited for more dinosaur mayhem.

7. Thor: Love and Thunder (Taika Waititi) – 7.8

The team that brought us the brilliant madness that was Thor: Ragnarok is back!!

8. Where the Crawdads Sing (Olivia Newman) – 7.22

I’m not entirely sold on the director or cast, but I adored the shit out of this book, and that’s enough for me.

9. Don’t Worry Darling (Olivia Wilde) – 9.23

Booksmart was incredible. This looks nothing like Booksmart. I love that Wilde is taking such a creative/stylistic risk with her sophomore directorial feature. But not as much as I love Florence Pugh, who would be enough to get this film on this list alone. Add her to the aforementioned Wilde stuff and a cast that hot as hell? Yes Please.

10. Mission: Impossible 7 (Christopher McQuarrie) – 9.30

Pretty much what I said about Top Gun: Maverick, except I’m also a huge fan of this franchise.

11. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse – Part One (Dos Santos, Powers & Thompsom) – 10.7

The first film was one of the most visually exciting, creative animated films quite possibly ever made, and easily became the best Spider-Man film to date (yes, even post-No Way Home). I absolutely cannot wait to see where they bring us next.

Please Continue for More!!

12. The Flash (Andy Muschietti) – 11.4

Michael Keaton. That is all.

13. Untitled David O. Russell (David O. Russell) – 11.4

I don’t have a clue what this is about, but the cast – minus Rami Malek – and Russell’s track-record is enough.

14. The Fabelmans (Steven Spielberg) – 11.23

C’mon… it’s Spieberg.

15. Babylon (Damien Chazelle) – 12.25

The director of Whiplash, La La Land & First Man tackles old Hollywood. Enough said.

16. Blonde (Andrew Dominik) – TBA

This is like the third year this has been on this list. Please, please let 2022 be the year I finally get Ana De Armas as Marilyn Monroe.

17. Crimes of the Future (David Cronenberg) – TBA

It’s been too long since we’ve gotten a genuinely exciting project from Cronenberg. So, I’m excited.

18. Disappointment Blvd. (Ari Aster) – TBA

Hereditary and Midsommar were staggering. I cannot wait to see what Aster brings us with this one.

19. The Killer (David Fincher) – TBA

C’mon… It’s Fincher.

20. Killers of the Flower Moon (Martin Scorsese) – TBA

C’mon… It’s Scorsese.

21. The Pale Blue Eye (Scott Cooper) – TBA

I don’t really think there’s been a Cooper film I haven’t liked. Plus, Harry Melling as Edgar Allan Poe is too interesting to pass up, no matter the context.

22. Pinocchio (Guillermo del Toro) – TBA

A stop-motion passion project from Guillermo del Toro… excuse me while I count the seconds until this gets released.

There they are! I’m excited to see the cinematic world get closer to normal in 2022, but mostly I’m just excited for more trips to the cinema. Here’s to hoping those are plentiful and satisfying in 2022!

As for My Best of 2021, all of the major lists will not be getting posted until mid-month (or as soon as I get the chance to catch up on some of the final 2021 releases I haven’t had the chance to see, yet), but I’m going to try to get some of the early lists – such as Posters, TV & Non-2021 Films – sorted and posted over the next week or two. Please Stay Tuned!

Also…

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

-Timothy Patrick Boyer.

#film #movies #movie #cinema #mybestof2021 #best of 2021 #most anticipated #most anticipated movies of 2022

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invincible-selfxmade-punk · 3 years ago

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There and Back Again: Going back home

My hometown is a lot bigger than the place I currently live in and it's not just bigger in population, it's spread out it sprawls from miles but there's nothing there. There is nothing but street after street and miles and miles of abandoned, boarded-up, and decaying buildings. All of them are relics of a time when the oil field was booming and people actually stayed and made families there.

The oilfield picked up in the 2010’a again, but no one seemed to put down roots. They chase the money, leaving homes, pets, and friends scattered in their wake. There are hundreds of abandoned auto garages, abandoned wholesale dealers, empty boarded-up motels, theaters and stores, parks where no one plays in anymore.

This is nothing new. When I was a child and Mom would drive up 2nd Street to my grandmother's house, we would pass this old garage. At one time it was called the Elite but all the letters had been worn off of the name painted on the side, so the only thing visible was E,l, t,e. For 40 years I thought it was the El Te garage, before going back and reconciling what was left of the sign with my childhood memories.

The place where my grandmother's house used to be is overgrown with willow trees-- or what look like willow trees at 45 mph. Nature has completely reclaimed it and you could not tell any buildings were ever there.

That's another thing I was astounded at: how much greener the place looked than the last few times I came there. The area I live in now is baked to a cruise after osp with a few scraggly weeds breaking through the dried cracked up soil. In my hometown I passed houses with yards full of deep green grass.

There is a sadness that falls on me like a damp blanket whenever I come and whenever I leave again. Like a young person committing suicide, my town had so much potential. but it gave up and died.

But to the untrained eye, my hometown, while abandoned, is absolutely verdant.

The They Call Me Big Deuce EP, the solo effort from a rather young rapper who’d founded HollywoodUndead, is the perfect soundtrack for any time I go back. The inner-city rap stuff goes well with the sprawling squalor and squandered potential that permeates the air.

Yes, my hometown is like a young girl that dies at her own hands during puberty: glorious potential and beauty forever lost with only memories and relics remaining. It is a harbinger that consumes whole families like my sister Terri’: her husband and daughter committing suicide 15 years apart, and in the meantime she loses weight, sanity, lung function and the will to live. Her meth addicted, ex-convict youngest daughter left to carry on alone, causing everyone, including herself, to wonder why out of everyone, she survived.

My sister’s death lives in the majority of the lyrics of that album. Highway 87 runs the length of town from the turn off outside of town that leads to the house I grew up in, to the business my grandfather built and left to my father,that died with me when I left town in search of something better, and finally running out of town and past the cemetery where Mom, Dad, my paternal grandparents, and my beloved niece LeAnn are all buried. I would dive the length of that highway from end to end screaming out the lyrics of Sometimes at the top of my lungs, as full of angst and confusion at 45 as I ever was at 15.

Sometimes I feel like I'm falling in this mes Somehow I still feel so upset Sometimes I feel like the world was gonna end Somehow I feel like i was wrong

There is FM 700 that goes around the past the hospital where my mom and sister died, where I would spend a week with pneumonia right after Terri’s death, laying naked under that crappy hospital gown, tubes running everywhere, too weak to even use the restroom on my own with the lyrics:I took my whole fan base back, I managed to get myself back up, Back to rappin' looped in a never ending stream through my head until I was able to be released.

FM 700 also took me to my first teaching job at, what 30 years previous had been the best school in town, but now was deep in the hood. It took a good 7-8 minutes to traverse the town every morning and the song I chose to fortify myself with as Blood on my Hands.

I got blood on my hands And these streets keep gettin' colder But I won't stop for nothing, no Forty four, man, tuck them gone There's blood on my hands And these streets keep gettin' colder But this time it's me and Truth, we gettin' down Cause in the land of the deaI wear the crown

I would come screeching into the parking lot at 7:15 am, my baby gangsta rap mixing with the hardcore rap booming from the cars of tattooed, packing, gang member, drug addict and dealer parents, screaming and cussing at their kids among the cacophony of rape, robbery and murder coming from everyone else’s speakers. My HHR pumping out Deuce seemed positively quaint.

After work I would start to unwind with the Foo Fighters and I would cruise down 3rd street as far as it would go,then turn around and come back up 3rd, turning on to the North Side where I would eat dinner at the Spanish Inn and then cruise 87 again, this time listening to Breaking Through, trying to remember every time over the last 40 years that Terri and I had hung out, and how she and her daughter LeAnn were the only two people who ever had my back for so many years. But most of the time grief clogged the pipeline of my memories, and all I could do was roll the windows down, throw my head back and sing:

Fight, fight with me We'll make it through, through again now I see Where I'm gone Gone to find my home Lonely Crawling through these dark walls Finding hope if hope still existsF But I can see the things you put me through I felt this way, I felt this way for so long And all the pain I felt in this life Gone in this

Five years later as I write this, I still feel it all.

My sister has no grave. She was cremated and who knows what was done with her ashes. I leave town with one more drive down 3rd street. I take one more look at Lou’s Bar, drive past the pile of rubble I always called the El Te garage, the huge building with washed burgundy paint where you can still make out the words STEREO WAREHOUSE, the old skating rink, the rock house where my best friend used to live. When I was a child across from Mimi’s house was a huge, green piece of land rimmed by a bright white fence. Outside was a sign with a Hereford cow painted on it. Five years ago, when I left town, the fence was still there, the sign was faded and there was a Confederate flag waving defiantly in the wind. When I left this time,there was nothing there but mesquite trees.

You would think it would be liberating to take to I-20 West, and watch my hometown disappear in the rearview mirror. Leaving feels as sad and empty as arriving does. I am leaving a handful of friends, many graves, ghosts and memories. and my niece, whom for better or worse i mos the last connection to my mom and sister.

The End

#essay #home #family #Deuce #travel #going home #death #loss #grieving #abandoned #west texas #spilled ink #Call Me Big Deuce

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michaeloneillwords-music · 3 years ago

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Oasis: Knobworth. Cocaine, Caricature and ‘The Culture Industry’s’ wet dream.

This week sees the release of the documentary film ‘Oasis Knobworth 1996’ which marks 25 years since the Manchester rock band played to over a quarter of a million disciples in a field in Hertfordshire across two nights. Obviously brand Oasis couldn’t miss the opportunity to celebrate its own greatness, in what is now being understood and accepted as some sort of era defining moment in pop cultural history. As a native of Manchester, who whether he likes it or not is psychically entrenched in the cities musical and cultural legacy and who was 15 years old when this event took place, I equally cannot miss the opportunity to challenge this retro fetish overstatement and present my own subjective understanding and experience of watching these caricatures of sex, drugs and rock roll as they rose to prominence. Let's face it ‘the culture industry’ has always needed fodder to sell to a teenage audience who in coming of age are flirting with the mask of social identity which is heavily informed by pop culture, and from late 1995 onwards Oasis, led by the brothers Gallagher were that fodder. The juggernaut of utter nonsense that they were peddling really began with the release of their sophomore effort (What’s the story) Morning Glory on the 2nd of October 1995, which to this day has gone on to sell in excess of 22 million copies worldwide, figures that depressingly highlight the state we are in as a species. Upon hearing the album as a 14 year engrossed in pop music culture I immediately disliked it. Gone were the walls of thick guitars, punkish irreverence and embellishments of baggy Northern Psychedelia that marked the best moments of their debut album, instead the listener was subjected to an overly clean, acoustic, commercial sounding record that was lyrically lazy, pedestrian and trite, to me it was and always will be an artistic car crash. It sounded immediately like a band uninterested in challenging itself or its audience, who instead were solely concerned with mass appeal, shifting units and making money. Whilst it should always be noted that the Gallagher brothers made no attempt to hide their aspirations for commercial success, material wealth and brand ubiquity, I simply find such sole motivations a turn off, that, more often than not result in utter dross, the kind that defines Oasis’ discography. Indeed, any ascent to the summit of pop culture will rarely be the sole result of an absolute desire for honest and uncompromising artistic expression, to just ‘make something’ regardless of economic reward or consideration for the consequences of what that expression communicates, represents or signifies. Indeed, such an approach will often come into direct conflict with the bottom line of the music industry, which is solely concerned with profit, monopolistic market control, the dissemination of ideology and projection of archetypes. And so it is that far from the ‘deviant bad boys of pop’ peddled by the culture industry press from 1995 onward, Oasis were actually a very obedient market vehicle for profit, who promoted nihilistic hedonism, idolatry, narcissism, misplaced masculinity, benign sexism, cocaine, lager and a depressing caricature of working class identity, and last but not least a brand of Beatles infused substance devoid pub rock. The ‘culture industry’ had been peddling this sort of shit from the mid 60’s in pop music and long before in general pop culture and as a result dear reader it was obviously very marketable once again to the mid-nineties teenage generation and to many subsequent generations for that matter. The game doesn't change. Oasis were and remain a wet dream of ‘the culture industry’, all too happy to short change a generation of youth culture with their destructive notions of cool, short sighted egocentric one dimensional outlook, and celebration of pack animal conformity under a banner of ‘rock and roll’ which signals ‘defiance’ ‘deviance’ and ‘hope’ but when unpacked and interrogated actually reveals a concession and obedience to the drudgery, depression and anomie of a top down controlled market culture by both the band and its disciples. They were without doubt a grey cloud of hard materialist understanding and sense pleasure that would leave Saint Francis of Assisi empty inside and reaching for a razor blade. I think it was the idolatry, narcissism and the reductionist mask of masculinity (that were all no doubt in the air at Knobworth, I couldn’t actually say as I wasn’t there, I had seen them on 26/11/1995 at the Manchester Nynex, and although I certainly do have deep seated masochistic tendencies everybody has a limit, and once was enough) that the band and its followers displayed that really didn’t sit well with me when the cultural juggernaut of Oasis and Britpop took off. These traits were for the most part distilled, embodied, displayed and performed by the band's frontman Liam Gallagher, a man whose answer to all of life’s existential conundrums is a pint of Carling. To me, Liam always carried a look of someone who had been asked a question they didn’t understand and was just trying to front it out with a gormless stare in an attempt to display some presence of depth and mystique to his onlooking disciples and celebrity obsessed media. When he did speak his articulations rarely got beyond how he was ‘mad for it’, how he was the ‘best frontman’ in the ‘best band’ and when his adopted mask of self-confidence was ever threatened would often bark ‘fook off’ in deflection and defence. Gallagher became the ‘Archetype’ that the modern-day British working class (and wannabe working class) alpha male identity is built on. Replete with feather cut, stone island jacket, adidas originals and cheap cocaine, ready to perform the identity prison they have adopted until the cows come home. I occasionally ponder as to whether the clinging too and performance of such a symbolically material identity merely masks an innate fear, and serves to deny the unpacking and unmasking of the ‘authentic self’, and how that process would more than likely contradict the projected ‘tower of strength’ that is indefinitely projected and protected by this deflective mask. I mean I thought we were an expression of consciousness with the innate capacity for creativity, who are looking to integrate the inner self into the ‘persona’ so as to not be imprisoned and tormented by the demands of the social mask, the gulf between the two and its insistence for the inauthentic? Who knows, and ultimately who really cares in this day and age. In terms of the idolatry, the fans deification of Liam and his brother Noel, alongside their deification of John Lennon, the two Paul McCartney's, Bozo and Poor Weller also really pissed me off when I was 15 and still doesn’t sit right with me today. It's the rock n roll hierarchy-musical establishment-gotta pay your dues-know the classics-they’re a fucking genius claptrap that really gets me goat. I mean fuck off, they've just made a record aided and abetted by an industry who want to flog them to death for moolah, and i’m expected to sit here and believe they're some sort of god like genius that captured the feelings of a mass populace, nah mate, it was capital backed exceptional marketing and mass gullibility. Limmy would capture working class culture in a 20 second video clip shot on his phone for nothing entitled “She’s turned the weans against us” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5VaPQflLq0&ab_channel=Limmy) in a far more profound and meaningful way 15 years after Knobworth. Furthermore, music solely informed and inspired by music and music history makes me want piss on my own face. That whole disciple of rock n roll dogmatic cultish crap, we want to be like our hero's motivation is so very depressing. I mean you’re having a unique subjective sensory experience, migrating through your own orbit of experience, and then when you engage with your creative faculties as a singular human being you adopt wholesale the principles and goals of those who’ve gone before you, or equally when simply embodying your identity it’s one built on the fetishization of a vapid celebrity archetype? Really? Really though? You’re not gonna take the opportunity to figure yourself out and project the uniqueness of your experience, reject or accept the external organising principles or merely just ‘mix the fucker up’? Hey who am I to pose such questions I guess, and in the immortal words of Oasis “You have to be yourself, you can’t be no one else”. Ha. I do think that line should now be updated to “you have to be a caricature of yourself because you cannot be anything else” though. Ooooh. Anyway, I shouldn’t really be blaming the current mask of one dimensional male social identity or celebrity deification on Oasis, they’re merely a cog in a machine that reproduces this reproduction over and over. However, that doesn’t detract from the fact that they are Manchester's greatest cultural own goal (shame really cause after the opening 5 or 10 minutes I was thinking we've got a team here), who made and continue to make to this day nonsensical grey groove-less drudgery a viable commodity with posthumous releases and as solo artists. Now that may be easy for me to say, as I was without doubt somewhat spoiled by exposure to the cities compelling history of DIY music from a young age, from the shadowy existential concrete corridors of Joy Division to the sharp witted marriage of high/low brow culture and realism/surrealism presented by The Fall, all the way through to the theological and philosophical street politics of The Stone Roses. Come 1995/96 I maybe expected more, but therein was a lesson for me, never expect, and indeed, always take the art and never the artist, and never ever deify. Musically Oasis were breathtakingly boring, real stodgy laboured stuff, and lyrically, to be brutally honest they were cringeworthy and embarrassing. However, to give them their due they did have conviction, but I’m sure that fellow Northerner Harold Shipman also had conviction in his creative output, but ultimately that doesn’t mean it was any good now does it? To me Oasis sounded like they were sent from the back of a battered cement mixer, or the lounge of the Robin Hood, or from the bottom of an overflowing ashtray on a coffee table in a council flat where shit cocaine is being relentlessly sniffed and Sky Sports News plays indefinitely. Symbolically they may be best defined as a scrunched up and discarded losing betting slip on the floor of a bookmaker’s that is heavy with the air of momentary hope, desperation, and inevitable loss. No thanks. P.S Look, all subjective criticism aside, Oasis spoke to millions and for that I congratulate them, they just never really spoke to me. Initially Liam and Noel were a breath of fresh air with their straight up lads with guitars attitude, riding their obvious desire with endlessly projected self- belief. However, to me there was just nothing after that initial Jab of intent present on Definitely Maybe and in interviews circa 94/95, there was no hook, combination or knock-out punch. Couple that with a general lack of grace, rhythm and finesse in the ring and to me as a spectacle it became boring very quickly, and as the rounds wore on that predictable Jab looked tired and stale, and the self-belief turned to coke fuelled narcissism. The ‘flock identity’ that materialised in the slipstream of their ascent and especially the attitude mimicry that was present then and remains today in the ‘Oasis Fan’ to be truthful is touch tragic. Furthermore, I've always held a deep-seated scepticism of the dynamics and motivations of 'the crowd' at the point of critical mass, especially when corporate power is deeply involved and invested in the relationship between the art and the audience. D'you know what I mean?

#manchester #music #social commentary #philosophy #cultural critique

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sinceileftyoublog · 4 years ago

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Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio Interview: Fo Sho

Photo by Francis A Willey

BY JORDAN MAINZER

No album from 2021 so far has me anticipating the return of live music more than Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio’s (DLO3, for the insiders) I Told You So (Colemine Records). The band’s second full-length expands upon their first LP Close But No Cigar in all the best ways: propulsive grooves, soulful moods, and an active imagination. Opener “Hole In One” introduces all the elements--funky, prickly guitar lines, confident drumming, and soulful organ--before first single and second track “Call Your Mom” and third track “Girly Face” reveal a gentler kind of sway without losing any of the sharpness. After “From The Streets” slows things down even more with a lurching rhythm and trailing reverb, the album turns it up a notch again with “Fo Sho” and “Aces”, upbeat struts with guitar and drum solos. In between that and the Stax-inspired closer “I Don’t Know” are perhaps the album’s two best tracks: a remarkably faithful, emotive cover of George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” and “Right Place, Right Time”, a solo-laden jam that begins with spontaneous studio chatter embracing the chaos of live recording. Moreover, the album contains all the elements of and is almost structured like a terrific live set, with ample virtuosic dynamism and ideal pacing.

The band on I Told You So is founding members Lamarr, on organ, and Jimmy James, on guitar, with drummer Grant Schroff (The Polyrhythmics) filling in for what was at the time a permanent drummer to be named later. (Schroff went on a European tour with DLO3 right before the recording of this album, so they decided to go with him.) Since then, drummer Dan Weiss has entered the fold; he joined as a permanent drummer last year and even toured a little bit in Canada and Montana before COVID-19 abruptly ended the tour. But while the drummers have rotated, it’s James’ guitar and especially Lamarr’s organ that have remained the foundation of DLO3, one that gives me confidence they could switch drummers every time and still one-up themselves.

I spoke with Lamarr earlier this year from his home in Spokane, WA about the various releases under the DLO3 belt (two albums and singles/live releases) as well as working virtually with a new drummer, Colemine Records, and Chick Corea (who passed away right before our conversation). Read our conversation below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: What about I Told You So is unique as compared to anything else you’ve ever released under this trio?

Delvon Lamarr: We have more musical influences in I Told You So. The reason why Close But No Cigar felt kind of reserved--we weren’t getting too deep into it--was because it was unplanned. We didn’t even have music to record at the time. But this one features more diverse musical influences of ours. “From The Streets” has that hip hop, Ohio Players feel. “Careless Whisper”--you never hear an an organ trio play that. It digs deeper into our musical knowledge.

SILY: What was the process for composing and arranging these tracks? How much improvisation was there?

DL: It’s like 90% improvisational. Pre-pandemic, we toured a lot, so we hardly ever had a chance to get in a room and write music. Plus, we all live pretty far away from each other. We basically write music during soundchecks, and when we’re on the road, we come up with these ideas and put them together. Usually, we write these melodies, and things like that, but outside of the melody, the solo areas are pretty much gloves off. Whatever happens happens. One of the things we’re known for is intertwining music with other music, different genres of music within the one song. It keeps the music fresh and keeps people engaged. It’s a free for all for most of it. [laughs]

SILY: There’s a good balance on here of songs where everyone has equal weight versus songs really led by one person or instrument. Was it important for you to achieve that balance across the whole album, or did it just end up naturally like that?

DL: It’s just how it ended up. When we write music, we pretty much write grooves. Take “Call Your Mom”: That whole song was built around Jimmy’s guitar riff, so that is the melody. When we wrote that, we actually wrote it on the road during soundcheck. I think it just naturally happens. Whatever instrument we think sounds good, we’ll play that melody.

SILY: Has Dan been learning the tracks?

DL: Oh yeah. We’ve been writing music together. Right now, we multi-track our ideas or sing it into a phone and try to build it that way. A lot of these new tunes we haven’t actually played, because we can’t get in the same room, so we just go for it, man.

SILY: What about “Call Your Mom” and “Careless Whisper” made you want to release them as singles?

DL: That was a decision between my wife [and manager Amy Novo] and Colemine Records. I probably would’ve chosen “Call Your Mom”, too. It has a certain feel and groove to it, man. [laughs] “Careless Whisper” is funny, too, because I wasn’t even gonna record that tune. My wife really likes when we play it--she requests it at the end of shows. She convinced us to record that. I was like, “Nobody wants to hear ‘Careless Whisper’ by an organ trio.” She said, “Dude, just do it, it’s gonna be really good.” We did it, and I was wrong. The reception from that tune has been pretty amazing, actually. I thank her. She’s the reason we recorded it.

SILY: You play a lot of covers live--on the KEXP release, you did “Move On Up”, and last year, you released a cover of “Inner City Blues”. What’s your general approach to covers: Be faithful, or put your own spin on it?

DL: The spin of playing a cover tune just happens naturally. Take “Careless Whisper”: We try to play it like the recording, like the original. I work on phrasing the melodies like George Michael sings it. The way we end up doing that automatically puts a certain feel to it that naturally happens. I feel that way about all of them, even when we do “Move On Up”. I play the melody like Curtis Mayfield sang it. I try to get all of his nuances.

SILY: “Fo Sho” was released on the same single as “Inner City Blues”. Why didn’t you include “Inner City Blues” on the record? Is two covers too many?

DL: Not at all. Close But No Cigar had 4 covers on it.

SILY: That’s true.

DL: We just had a lot of original music we wanted to get out. I Told You So is part of a session that had 27-28 songs recorded. We have another album or two, or an album and a couple 45s worth of music just in that recording alone. We’ve done more recording since then, so we have more music in the can right now. We just wanted to get original tunes out. We did record some more covers that will be out later on, either as 45s or something else.

SILY: The record’s really crisp, but on “From The Streets”, the trailing reverb of the guitar is a hazy contrast to the rest of the album. Can you talk about that track?

DL: The history of that track--basically, I grew up in the streets. I was a rough child. [laughs] I had that music in my head that reminded me of my childhood of running the streets. When we recorded that, you never really hear an organist in an organ trio play a bass line. I don’t play chords in that tune at all. A lot of that magic is Jimmy James. He doesn’t use guitar effects. I actually recently got him to use a wah in a show, and it took him five years to do that. He’s straight guitar and amp. He’s always been that guitar player. That tone, that sound, that reverb is just him and his amp.

SILY: Was that actual studio chatter at the beginning of “Right Place Right Time”?

DL: [laughs] I was wondering when somebody was gonna ask me about that. The song we recorded before, we played the whole thing start to finish, absolutely perfect, without a single flaw. Grant, maybe the last four or five seconds, completely bites it. We were playing, and he forgot to do a break right at the end and kept playing, so it was an unusable take, so he screamed, “Fuuuuuuuuck! Fuuuuuuck!” That’s what we were referencing at the front of it. Jimmy James was like, “Remember that time you were like, ‘Fuuuuuuuuck,’ and then I started copying Jimmy.” It was pretty funny. We listened back to it, and my wife was like, “We gotta leave that in there.”

SILY: Is there an extra guitar on that track?

DL: There is. The guitar player from the Polyrhythmics, Ben Bloom. It’s funny how that worked, because he came to see Jason [Gray], our studio engineer, and I asked him whether he had his guitar with him, and he did, so I said, “Grab it, let’s record something!” He said, “I got about 20 minutes, I gotta be somewhere.” I just started messing around with this bass line, and everything started falling into place. We did two takes of that song. Over about 15 minutes, we wrote that entire song and recorded it. At first, it was just one quick bass line, like a short bass line that I had the idea for, and we started building on it. Ben came in, put his magic on it, and it was a wrap, man. I love that solo, too. It’s dope.

SILY: What’s the story behind the record title?

DL: When our original drummer left the band, people were worried about the sound of Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio, because he had such a distinct style of playing. People assumed we’d sound different. I kept telling people, “As long as the music is good, people are gonna like it. It might feel different, but it’s gonna feel good and sound good.” That’s why I called the album I Told You So. Because it sounds good!

SILY: What about the album art?

DL: People are always wondering what I’m doing on the front of that album. I was shadowboxing--I used to be a boxer in my youth. We were taking photos in Cincinnati, and it was one of the photos everybody liked.

SILY: What does it mean to you to be on a label like Colemine Records, diverse in terms of genres but a wholly old school vibe.

DL: Our relationship is really good. They’re cool cats, man. It’s truly an honor to be a part of what they do. Since we’ve been with that label, I’ve met a lot of the artists on that label. It’s a gift to be a part of what they do. One of the big reasons I really like them is that it’s managed by two brothers that run it who are just normal dudes. They ain’t corporate. I talk to them like we talk to each other. It’s like family. I really respect these guys and what they do. It’s amazing being a part of what they do.

SILY: For sure.

DL: That’s “Fo Sho”. Just kidding.

SILY: Are you planning on doing any live streams or socially distant shows down the line, or are you waiting for things to calm down more?

DL: We’ve done a few live streams so far. We have more coming up. We’re working on some stuff. A lot of the tours we had scheduled last year got rescheduled to this year, so we’re seeing what happens, but right now, we’re still trying to book shows and see if it can be done safely. If it ain’t gonna be safe, we’re not gonna do it. We’re just hanging in there still, trying to keep things on the books.

SILY: What else is next for the Trio?

DL: We’re working on a new project that we’re gonna call DLO3 and Friends. Basically, Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio is gonna be the basis for the band but we’re gonna incorporate musicians we’ve met on the road all over the world that we’ve liked and start collaborating with people. We just went in the studio a couple weeks ago and laid the foundation. It’s comin!

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading lately that’s caught your attention?

DL: I’ve been back in my old school traditional swinging jazz, Kenny Dorham, Johnny Griffin, Coltrane, Miles, all those guys. I was originally a straight up swinging bebop player and haven’t been able to do that in a while.

SILY: Speaking of Miles, did you hear that Chick Corea passed away?

DL: I did. That was a pretty sad moment. We have the same booking agent. I never got to meet him. I was hoping to.

SILY: Do you have a favorite piece or recording of his?

DL: Yes. The Blue Mitchell album The Thing To Do. I remember listening to it; Chick was burning on it. One of the other things I realized on that album was how high pitched Al Foster’s toms are. But yeah: huge loss for the scene.

SILY: Anything else I didn’t ask about you want to say?

DL: Support your local record stores. There may or may not still be our limited pink vinyl at your local store, since those were only sold at record stores. Support your local record stores and local music.

I Told You So by Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio

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mylifewithhurley · 4 years ago

Text

My Life with Hurley Story

My Hidradenitis Suppurativa Story

l believe the best way to start is with a description of the disease - and this is my description of the disease, based mostly on my experiences, but also drawing from the hundreds of medical articles, forums, and discussions I've had the pleasure of reading over the past decade in my attempts to understand and manage my disease better. Hidradenitis Suppurativa (HS) is a chronic skin disease, in which pus and blood-filled abscesses form under the skin in the groin area, inner thighs, armpits and under the breasts. These abscesses can range from the size of a pea to as large as baseballs. They grow in size until they are close enough to the surface of the skin, and may break open. When they do, they either do not heal at all, or take a very long time to heal... I'm talking years. As open wounds, they constantly leak blood and pus. There is nothing more horrid than the smell of an HS wound, trust me. They are extremely painful, if you can imagine. Large abscesses can often restrict your ability to move your arms, if they are located in the armpit, or restrict your ability to walk and make it vert uncomfortable to sit, if they are in the groin or inner thigh area. With all that being said, you can imagine the shame and embarrassment such a condition can bring to a person. An individual with this disease can be extremely self-conscious and depression is very likely as well. There are some points I'd like to stress before I move on to my personal experience with the disease.

HS is NOT contagious. It is NOT the individuals fault. No one knows why this happens. HS has NOTHING to do with a person's hygiene. HS has NO cure!

IN THE BEGINNING...

My HS started out as small pus-filled bumps on my groin when I was around 15 years old. These were easily popped open and were not painful. They would come and go. They were a nuisance, but were not totally alarming. I did not know I had a "disease" at this time. I did not seek medical care. I was about 20 when bumps started appearing around my breasts. These were larger and had to grow a few days before I was physically able to squeeze them out. The pus was generally very dry, like something that would come out of a pimple on your face. It would quickly shoot out and splatter onto the mirror or whatever I was in front of. I mention this only to illustrate the change in consistency of the pus over time. They would heal, but always come back. Same spot, same size. Seeking help was difficult. I didn't want anyone to see. I can remember going to a walk-in doctor who prescribed a topical cream to rub on them. That didn't help. Eventually, the pain was too much to bare and I was forced to go to the emergency room. I went in the middle of the night. I had an abscess about the size of a quarter on my chest, between my breasts. It was so painful, I couldn't sleep. I had my first I&D (incision & drainage) that night with a very nice doctor. After he had cut it, he told me a nurse would come in to "pack" the wound and that I would be set up with home care. I didn't know what "packing" meant at that time, so when the nurse came in and simply covered the wound with gauze and tape, I thought I was good to go. That specific wound came and went over the years but it would easily break open after a week or so, and the pus and blood would pour out, like syrup, messing up my bra and clothes.

I went to a walk-in maybe a year or so later who I could tell really sympathized with me, but truly didn't know what to do. She referred me to a dermatologist. I waited months to see her. When I finally did, she was cold towards me. I didn't feel like she cared as she told me there was no point in treating this externally (I was hoping she would cut one or two open to give me some relief). She told me the only way to get rid of this was to do it from the inside. She prescribed me some pills (probably an antibiotic). I asked her if it had worked for others, and she nodded yes and she scooted me out. The pills she prescribed did wonders for the acne on my face but absolutely nothing for my HS. I was told to come back and see her in three months, but I never did. She didn't care enough.

For a long time, I just waited for the lesions to grow large and break open on their own. There's one that I actually tried opening with a needle (DO NOT DO THIS), and of course I just made it worse and probably make it stick around a lot longer than it would have had I just gone to a doctor. I had started working full time when I began getting abscesses on my upper leg, extremely close to my groin and bottom. This was extremely painful. I had to find creative ways to sit on my chair without drawing too much attention to myself. There were many days I wouldn't even sit. I would just do type on the computer standing up, pretending like I was only checking something out on the computer and would have to leave in a second to do something else. The days in which I did sit, I learned I needed to sit on my jacket or sweater, in order to not stain the chair with the drainage coming out of my open wounds, seeping through my pants and onto the furniture. I often walked funny, trying to avoid feeling the wounds rubbing against my pants. If anyone asked why, I just told them I had a problem in my leg.

It was a Sunday night when I decided I needed to see a doctor to drain one lesion on my inner buttocks. My mother took me to the emergency room. When the doctor had seen how large the abscess was, and the others that surrounded it, he called for a surgeon to come and take a look. The surgeon told me that I needed surgery, but because I had eaten dinner that night, and she and her team had already had a long day, I agreed to come back in on Wednesday for surgery. On that day, while the surgeon was briefing me on the surgery, I asked her if she didn't mind also draining a lesion under my arm. When I showed it to her, she couldn't refuse. When I awoke from surgery, she mentioned that she had arranged for a Infectious Disease doctor in the morning and also told me that I may want to consider plastic surgery, a suggestion I wish I had taken at that time. I was released from the hospital the following day and set up with home health care.

The Infectious Disease doctor examined me and prescribed me two antibiotics to take over a period of three months. Whether theses helped my case or not, I'm not sure. It's possible I could have been worse off if I hadn't taken them, but I wasn't getting better. I went on living my life just waiting for my abscesses to open and draining them myself - or going to the emergency room if I thought it was getting too large with no signs that it was going to resolve on its own. Going to the ER always meant that I was going to be set up with home health care, or what they call CCAC (Community Care Access Centre). Nurses could either come to your home to change your dressings and check on the progress of your wound, or, as they preferred, you could go into a near-by clinic every day or every other day for the same service. This may be common knowledge, but there are great nurses, and there are terrible nurses. I could write a book about my bad experiences with CCAC, but I won't elaborate. The point is, more often than not, CCAC nurses made my life more difficult than pleasant.

DERMATOLOGY

My sister had told me about a dermatologist that would see patients without a referral. This sounded great to me because having to explain to doctor after doctor (or anyone, for that matter) about your disease and the things you've already tried to manage it is exhausting. I called and made myself an appointment for a few months later. When I met with Dr. A, I felt like he sympathized me and I had hope. He knew my disease. He had patients with my disease. He had touched my wounds and wiped away pus. He sampled the pus for testing. These are things the first dermatologist I had seen never did. He had a son who worked in clinical trials and had just finished a study on my disease with an expensive treatment called Humira. He called his son right there in the patient room to ask him if he knew of any upcoming studies so that I could possibly get medication for free, but unfortunately the answer was no. He had also treated patients with HS with Accutane, but this too was expensive. With the knowledge that I didn't have any drug coverage, Dr. A prescribed me two strong antibiotics to take over a course of three months. Those antibiotics did help some. When I revisited Dr. A after the three months had passed, he prescribed me another run of the antibiotics.

HS controls my life in every way. There's not a moment I'm not thinking about it. There's not a minute I am not uncomfortable or not in pain. There is not a decision I make without considering my disease. I have to think about my HS before doing the smallest tasks. There are times I put off going to the bathroom just because getting up, changing positions, can cause so much pain and discomfort, and I'm literally mentally preparing myself for what I'm about to experience. Needless to say, there are many activities I just cannot participate in. Simply getting into the car can be difficult. I dread going shopping - too much walking, which means wounds rubbing against my clothes. I'm often caught off guard when someone asks me why I'm walking funny, or holding my arm awkwardly, because I think I'm hiding it so well. HS also controls what I can wear. As much as I love form-fitting clothes, its just not comfortable to be in them. I don't wear anything white - my wounds will stain it. I don't wear anything sleeveless - my underarms are full of wounds I don't want anyone to see, not to mention the drainage that will have no place to hide. I try to wear my clothing as loosely as possible, but I'm fighting to keep my pride, despite this disease and I hate to look shabby. Depression is all over my face. I try to act happy as best I can, to not bring any attention to myself. I look back at old pictures, and miss how happy I was and how beautiful it was to not be in pain; to just feel nothing. I cry all the time. The tears often start because of the physical pain - but they quickly grow into a bawl just thinking about everything I've already been through, how much the disease controls my life, and how I don't have any idea how to make this better. HS affects my sleep, because it's not easy to fall asleep while you're in pain or you're too busy scratching or squeezing a nuisance of a wound. It's frustrating just knowing that I can't just tell someone, 'I have HS' and have them just know what it is and have a small idea what I'm going through - as I could have if I had something like arthritis or psoriasis. No one knows what this is. No one has heard of it. No one can ever understand - and so I don't try to explain it. I've tried before, and it only leads to individuals thinking they know how to take care of it. I've been told just to scrub it, just to take the pain and squeeze it out and it'll go away and never come back. I've been told to just use natural soaps; that my skin just can't handle the harsh chemicals. I've even been told that it's because I don't pray hard enough. Everybody thinks know, but nobody really knows. It hurts to know that people don't believe me when I say this is an actual disease! It cannot be healed by something as simple as washing it away. If it were that easy, I would have rid myself of this a long time ago, believe me. Would you tell a cancer patient to just wash it off? I didn't think so. My loved ones, who know my condition still don't know what I truly live with because I try so hard to be normal, act like it doesn't bother me, around them. Firstly, because I don't want their ideas on how to 'easily fix' the problem, and secondly, because I don't want to be pitied. I just want to be free.

After two three-month courses of antibiotics, I was over it. I was over putting these pills into my body just to get little to no results. I stopped seeing Dr. A and went back to just dealing with it - drug free. This meant frequent visits to the emergency room and urgent care centres, and of course just waiting for some to burst on their own. I remember crying to a doctor at an urgent care, telling her how tired I was and asking her to I&D an abscess under my armpit. She told me there was no way to cure this and I was just going to have to live with it. How rude! I mean, so far I haven't found what she said to be untrue, but she could have been a little more comforting and optimistic. Can you believe she didn't even cut the abscess? She told me to take some antibiotics and wait for it to break open on its own. With this disease, I've learned that you're going to have to kiss many frogs to find your prince - kisses being doctor appointments, frogs being doctors, and the prince being a doctor who doesn't necessarily have all the answers, but just cares enough to try, and then try again. That night, I was in so much pain and a doctor refused to help me. Physically and mentally, I was fed up. I actually quit my job that next morning and applied for Employment Insurance. Getting up and ready in the morning was too hard and my supervisor was beginning to give me a hard time for the times I showed up a few minutes late after giving too much attention to a wound in the morning. I was physically and emotionally tired, and I truly just needed a break. So I quit.

I must have had enough of 'just dealing with it on my own' again, because I decided to go see a doctor one more time. I went to see a family doctor, who prescribed me some antibiotics but also referred me to a lovely dermatologist, Dr. Nisha Mistry. Oh, Dr. Mistry, what can I say about you? On my first visit, she presented me with print-outs and spoke to me on what HS is, what the different causes might be and different treatments. Now, I had already read most of this online while doing my own research, but it truly meant a lot to me that she had taken the time out to read up on my disease prior to my visit. After I told her I had already tried antibiotics - maybe too many times, she told me about Humira. Humira defined by www.drugs.com: "Humira (adalimumab) reduces the effects of a substance in the body that can cause inflammation. Humira is used to treat rheumatoid arthritis, juvenile idiopathic arthritis, psoriatic arthritis, ankylosing spondylitis, plaque psoriasis, and and a chronic skin condition called hidradenitis suppurativa." Don't you just love how HS is the only disease they had to briefly define? She explained that she would only recommend this in extremely severe cases, because of the possible side effects. She had me change into a gown, and after taking a look at my wounds, she agreed I had a severe case. Unfortunately, like Dr. A had told me over a year prior, Humira is very expensive, and I didn't not have any drug coverage. She too, like Dr. A, knew of some clinical trials in which I could get the drug for free, but the trials had just ended before my meeting with her. That's when she told me about a program called compassionate care - where the Canadian government actually pays for your medicine because your doctor feels so terribly for you. That's my definition of compassionate care, anyway. She didn't make me any promises at that time, but told me she would put in an application for me. I was approved! There were a few tests and things I needed to do before I could officially start, but I eventually began my Humira treatment a few months later. I also started working again around the start of my Humira treatment, about four months after I had quit my last job.

I have to believe Humira helped me. It did not cure me, but I feel like my case got better. It's hard to say for sure because every time I would meet with Dr. Mistry for a check up, she would say it didn't look any better. But I felt better. My range of motion improved and I feel I was able to do more things a little more comfortably. I was still making visits to the emergency room, however. After one particular visit where I ended up staying the night, the hospital notified Dr. Mistry. She called me in a panic about a week later demanding that I come and see her right away. The hospital had totally exaggerated my symptoms. Apparently I had a fever when I was admitted, but they told her I came in shivering! They even told her I had been there for 3 days when it had really just been one night. I explained to her that it wasn't as serious as they made it seem, but she was still very concerned. She suggested I stop taking Humira immediately. At that time, I begged her to let me continue, but she pointed out that after eight months of treatment, I was not seeing sufficient results, and with the side effects of Humira, it may have been causing more harm than good. I agreed to stop, and after discussing with her some of the symptoms I was experiencing, she referred me to a gastroenterologist to check for Chron's disease, an internal medicine specialist, to just check me in general, and a general surgeon to actually operate on the HS manifestations.

SURGERY

Dr. Mistry had suggested I see the gastroenterologist for of some of the symptoms I was experiencing. I had a consult with the gastroenterologist to explain my medical history and my recent symptoms. At that time, he said if it was Chron's, the Humira should have helped with that - but he proceeded to schedule me for a colonoscopy anyway. I was cleared for Chron's - which I was happy about - but that doctor never really addressed the reasons I may have been experiencing the symptoms Dr. Mistry was worried about. Sigh. Doctors. Dr. Mistry had wanted me to see an internal medicine doctor because I was experiencing many fevers and she just wanted to make sure my body chemistry was alright. Somehow that appointment never happened. I was, however, scheduled to meet with general surgeon Dr. K for a consultation, rather quickly, I might add. She was lovely. Before examining me, she explained that she was only a general surgeon, and if my case would require something called a 'flap', then she would have to refer me to a plastic surgeon. A quick glance at my skin would confirm that I, of course, was more of a plastic surgery candidate. My heart sank. Luckily, she knew of an excellent plastic surgeon, she said, and would be able to get me an appointment with him a lot sooner than it would typically take. She was very sympathetic and encouraging and I really wished she could be my surgeon. At that time, I had recently been to the hospital for an I&D and was visiting the CCAC nurses every night. Getting the wound packed was very painful because the incision had been made so small. Dr. K was nice enough to widen it for me. As her nurse was dressing the wound, she assured me that the plastic surgeon I was being referred to was very good, told me I was very brave and that she was impressed with how high my spirits were. If only she knew I was fighting back the tears that would burst out of me as soon as I entered my car.

It felt like forever before I got a chance to see the plastic surgeon, Dr. T. If Dr. K had in fact expedited my appointment, I feel really sorry for those who don't have that privilege. My parents came with me to this appointment. After I had told them about what happened at my appointment with Dr. K, my dad told me to let him know of any future appointments. It means a lot to me that he didn't want me going alone. I'm guessing Dr. T had just finished reading a Wikipedia page or something on HS when he walked into my room because he was basically telling me all the things I would have read had I quickly did a google search on the disease. He basically told me at that time that surgery was not a good idea because of complications and scarring. This was before he even looked at my skin. After examining me, he tells me that he would prefer I go and see Dr. S, an expert in HS, and he would only perform the surgery if Dr. S recommended it. He told me that he would put in the referral, but not to worry because his office scheduled appointments quickly. In the mean time, he told me to focus on losing weight because HS was often made worse by heaviness. I am not a skinny girl, but I am not huge either. Weight may be a factor in other peoples HS, but not mine. I know this because I had actually lost quite a bit due to stress (of the disease) and my symptoms did not change. I didn't take it personally though. I knew he was just spewing out whatever he had just read on the internet. I was devastated, still. I had really high hopes about him because Dr. K and her nurse had praised him so much. I had even warned a supervisor at work that I may have to take time off shorty in order to recover from surgery. So of course, my heart was crushed. Another appointment that had caused me to go home and cry.

At this point, I'm waiting for an appointment from Dr. S, but not really, because for one, I had already seen a GREAT dermatologist in Dr. Mistry, and she had already recommended surgery, and two, I no longer trusted Dr. T. It didn't seem like he was eager to help me, and so I didn't want him to. I went back to 'just dealing with it', until I got a call from Dr. Mistry's office asking me to come in to talk about renewing my Humira prescription. I thought this was odd, seeing that I had stopped taking Humira, and Dr. Mistry knew of this. I went in to see her, anyway. I told her about my experiences with Dr. Kapala and Dr. T. She told me that she actually worked for Dr. Sibbald (who still hadn't called me for an appointment, by the way), on his team in his office on Fridays, and she knew for sure he would recommend surgery. This made me even more upset at Dr. T. She offered to refer me to another surgeon. I explained to her how frustrated and exhausted I was at all the appointments and disappointments - and that I needed a break from it. She understood completely, and let me know I could call her whenever I was ready to try again.

I got another odd call from Dr. Mistry's office a couple months later telling me that Dr. Mistry wanted me to call her to discuss my test results. It was odd because I hadn't taken any tests. I called anyway. She explained that she had been in contact with a Humira spokesperson who had asked her about my Humira experience. After she had told him that I didn't really benefit from it, he told her of a plastic surgeon who would love to help, as a 'special favor'. She said she knows I had opted to take a break from surgery consultations, but she didn't want to let the opportunity pass without offering it to me. I accepted. I wanted to at least talk to this surgeon. I was still in pain, and maybe this was my luck finally turning around.

I met with Dr. CT on Monday, November 21st, 2016. She asked about my Humira experience and about the surgeons I had seen before her. After I told her that Dr. T had basically told me he didn't want to do it, she told me that nobody wants to do it. She explained it was an extremely messy surgery that would require a skin graft and two separate surgery weeks apart, and after all of that, my body may reject it. When briefly describing what surgery on my lower body would be like, she mentioned that I would have to urinate in a bag temporarily. As you can imagine, this is where the tears starting filling my eyes. As she was working really hard to turn me off this surgery, I'm sitting there wondering why I was even invited to this appointment. I was told that there was a surgeon who wanted to help me as a special favor and when I met her, I felt like I was just being kicked in the gut. I told Dr. Mistry I needed a break from the heartbreak of surgeons telling me they can't help me, and she sent me to a surgeon that would reject me again. The surgery did sound awful, I have to admit. Her goal was clearly to make me change my mind about desperately wanting the surgery, and she did so well that I even forgave Dr. T for rejecting me. After seeing the tears run down my face and the disappointment in my eyes, Dr. CT offered to refer me to a plastic surgeon at St. Mikes Hospital who had done more complicated HS surgeries. I declined. I was so over it. Instead of surgery, Dr. CT suggested that I should go back on Humira. She stressed that it is a very new drug and it will get better and work. Whatever. I was on Humira for eight months and it barely helped me. I'm convinced I was just injecting cancer into myself and not seeing any immediate benefits with my HS. I refuse to go back on Humira. Something has got to give.

Dr. CT called me herself the next evening at 7:00PM to tell me she had spoken to the Humira representative, and he was doing to be in touch with Dr. Mistry in recommending some other dermatologists that have a little more experience with HS. She also said that she would contact Dr. Melinda Musgrave, the plastics surgeon at St. Mikes, and ask about any new approaches she has come across and can suggest. She explained St. Mikes is trying to develop a clinic of some sort where they can talk to HS patients about lifestyle changes, such as diet, that may minimize the effects of HS. She stressed that even though she didn't think surgery was a solution to HS, she didn't want me to believe that there was no hope, and that there were hopefully a couple things we could try before taking that route. The call meant everything for me. It lifted my spirits. It just felt like there was another doctor out there, in addition to Dr. Mistry, who was in my corner - who saw my pain and truly wanted to help.

NATUROPATHY

I had reached out to a naturopath, Dr. S. The appointment was booked for a few days after I got the call from Dr. Mistry about Dr. CT, and I almost cancelled it thinking that I wouldn't need him anymore because Dr. Mistry found me someone that would help, but I didn't. During my first appointment with him, I just spent the hour telling him about my disease and how it affected me daily. He asked questions, I would answer them. He ended the appointment by telling me that he "really, really, really wanted to help" me, and gave me a few of his ideas. He prescribed me Effer C, a supplement to help me go to the bathroom more often and Vitamin D, and we booked an appointment for about 3 weeks later. By the next appointment, he had a very detailed plan written up that predicted to have me pretty much healed in six months. The plan included a couple supplements, something called colonics, and a strict diet of no dairy, sugar, gluten or wheat. As you can imagine, sticking to that diet proved to be difficult, but I did try. I saw little to no results, but to be fair - I was not completely committed. I went to a few subsequent appointments, but naturooathy is not covered by OHIP, and although my work insurance covered a lot of the cost, it was becoming expensive to keep seeing him, and during the appointments, he was mostly just making other suggestions of changes I could make to my diet. I felt like I could handle that on my own.

What's it like to feel nothing? I miss feeling nothing. No discomfort, no pain, no sting. I used to take feeling nothing for granted, and now I know how precious it is. I miss being able to sit down on a chair, a bed, the floor, without feeling anything. I miss being able to get into a car without feeling anything. I miss being able to drive without feeling anything. I miss walking and feeling nothing. Oh, I miss going up and down stairs without feeling anything! I miss putting on my panties, my pants, my bra, my shirt, my coat, without feeling anything. What's it like to get in and out of bed without feeling anything? To take a shower and feel nothing?

SURGERY PT. 2

After that meeting in November 2016 with Dr. CT, I hadn't really been to any doctors, with the exception of the few additional visits with the naturopath. I gained a little relief by changing my diet - but no major improvements. In April 2018, the drainage coming from my arms was uncontrollable. My shirts were soaking wet within a few minutes of changing into them. I didn't know what else to do except to plea with a surgeon to operate on me. I chose Dr. CT. I met with her on June 6th 2018. Again, she illustrated a nasty surgery that might not even be successful. I told her I didn't care, I needed to do something. She offered to send me down to St. Michael's Hopsital to see plastic surgeon Dr. Melinda Musgrave or her colleague Dr. Karen Cross, who do a lot more work with HS. I agreed to a referral, just because I could tell how badly she did not want to operate on me. If you'll recall, she had mentioned referring me to these doctors before, but nothing ever came of it.

This time, I got a surgery consultation with plastics surgeon Dr. Karen Cross, scheduled originally for November 2018, but moved up to September 2018. It was simply and honestly the best consult I've ever had. She specializes in HS surgeries and really can't imagine why I hadn't been referred to her before. She told me I was an excellent candidate for surgery, but she agreed that my disease was so active that it probably wouldn't be effective. She requested that I see a dermatologist of her choice, follow their suggested treatment for about three months, and after the disease had calmed down, she would operate. I loved speaking with her because she just got it. She knew exactly how I was feeling as a person living with HS without me having to tell her. She knew and answered all my questions before I even had a chance to ask. It was obvious she had spent real time with other HS patients because she truly just got it. She was so hopeful and encouraging. She let me know that it would be a long journey to recovery, but that we would be on that journey together - and that I should always let her know where my head is at and how I'm truly feeling not only physically, but emotionally. I had never met a surgeon like her and even if I don't end up getting a surgery, I'm so glad that my path lead me to her - just to know doctors like her exist.

CLINICAL TRIALS

Dr. Cross referred me to dermatologist Dr. Afsaneh Alavi, also specializing in HS. She enrolled me into a clinical research study for a potential new "antibody therapy". Without going into much detail, I was required to go into a clinic every two weeks for intravenous infusion and complete a small questionnaire on a phone-like device nightly. I officially began getting dosed in October of 2018. A lot like my experience with Humira, I couldn't see any changes in the way the disease physically presented itself, but I can say the day to day pain dropped considerably and my quality of life increased. However, in mid-December, I developed a large abscess on my upper thigh. It had been growing in size and pain for about a week before my next scheduled infusion and meeting with Dr. Alavi. After examining the abscess, she decided immediately to take me off the study and arranged for me to have it drained that morning. She prescribed Ertapenem, an antibiotic infused intravenously daily, for four weeks.

ERTAPENEM

Ertapenem is an antibiotic administered intravenously. I was taught how to run the IV on my own at home. It took about 30-45 minutes and then I would wrap up the IV site with gauze until I was ready to do it again the next day. While showering, I used a arm cast protector I found in a home health care store. It's basically a long plastic glove-bag that spans the entire arm, the way a cast would, and tightly seals before the shoulder. I couldn't use that arm to clean myself with, but the IV site was protected from the water. My IV site would have to be changed every 3-5 days. I would go to a CCAC clinic to have a nurse set up a basic IV line in my arm or hand. I have very difficult veins, and so nurses often had a hard time starting my IV. On every visit, I was poked multiple times before one was successful. There was a night when the nurses were not able to find a good vein, and I was sent to the emergency room for one of the nurses there to try. I waited four hours that night just to get an IV started. Initially, the plan was for me to have a procedure done to get a 'picc line', which is more secure than the regular IV and could remain in my arm for weeks without having to be moved, but that wasn't scheduled until week three of my four week course of the drug and it just didn't make sense at that point. All this to say, the treatment of Ertapenem caused some minor inconveniences, but overall I was pleased with the results.

Ertapenem was the best treatment I've received so far. I felt virtually no pain during the 4 weeks I was on the medication. My wounds pretty much dried up. Although you could still see them, there was no drainage coming from any of my wounds. My clothes remained dry throughout the day and through the night and I never worried about staining my seat. Proving this, my laundry loads we significantly smaller and my jeans/pants were clean enough to re-wear before washing.

CLINICAL TRIAL DRUG: IFX-1

Although an effective treatment for me, I could not remain on Ertapenem for very long. Antibiotics are not meant to be taken long-term. I was on the drug for about five weeks. With permission from the sponsors and executives of the clinical trial, Dr. Alavi allowed me to continue treatment with the clinical drug, IFX-1. During the first phase of the trial, I was either being given the active drug, or a placebo. Dr. Alavi wanted to give me a chance to enter the second phase of the trial, which guaranteed active drug administration.

Since beginning the second phase, I can confidently say I feel better. I have not experienced any large new abscesses, and the ones I already had are smaller and draining less. The most improved symptom is my ability to move; my range of motion. I am able to move my arms and legs in ways I wasn't able to do before. This alone has improved my mood and my quality of life. Dr. Alavi agrees, I will still need surgery to remove the skin that the HS has completely destroyed over the years, but if this drug makes it to the market, I believe it could help many of us keep the disease under control.

December 30th, 2019 Dr. Cross performed a 'left axilla extraction with flap' surgery on October 31st, 2019. She removed all of the affected skin from my armpit and pulled skin from my back to replace the missing skin. It was a day surgery that took about 3 hours. The wound was cared for by near by clinic nurses. It took a little over a month to fully close. The surgery went extremely well and I am please with the results. I will meet with Dr. Cross again in a few months to talk about my right arm. Dr. Alavi thinks I should return to Humira in the mean time, but at this point, I don't think I want to take that route. I know it's only been a couple months, but I believe surgery is the solution for me.

November 22nd, 2020 Dr. Cross performed the same surgery, this time on my right axilla on August 20th, 2020. Again, the surgery went well and I am pleased with the results. Now, I don’t have any inflammation or affected skin in my armpits and it’s truly changed my life. I can wear sleeveless tops and I don’t have to worry about drainage messing up tops with sleeves. I can finally wear white if I choose to. I do still have some HS on my lower body, but nothing that warrants the surgeries I needed for my arms. I will try to treat what’s left with diet changes - specifically the keto diet and will keep you updated.

The rest is still unwritten...

#hidradenitis #hidradenitissuppurativa #chronicillness #skindisease #skincondition #mylifewithhurley #myhsstory

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creepingsharia · 4 years ago

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Georgia: U.S. Army Soldier Arrested for Attempting to Assist ISIS Conduct Deadly Ambush on U.S. Troops, Attack 9/11 Memorial Site

US soldier hoped to team up with ISIS to attack 9/11 Memorial: feds

A US soldier hoped to team up with ISIS to launch a terror attack on the 9/11 Memorial in Manhattan, calling the sacred site “a key target,’’ according to explosive court papers Tuesday.

Army Pfc. Cole James Bridges — a 20-year-old cavalry scout from Ohio — allegedly thought he was plotting with a member of the terrorist group while discussing attacking the Sept. 11 memorial.

His supposed ISIS cohorts were actually an undercover FBI worker and confidential informant, the feds said.

Bridges described how an assault on the memorial at Ground Zero “could honestly be a sniper kill and then getting out quietly for a second attack,’’ according to Manhattan federal-court papers.

The documents included a profile photo of the Stow, Ohio, suspect on one of his social-media accounts in August wearing traditional Muslim head garb.

The filing also contained a posting on the same account that month featuring a quote by a jihadist leader whose followers included one of the hijackers of the plane that crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001.

“Everyone has to see which side he is on,” the quote reads in part.

While becoming radicalized online, Bridges researched such terms as “badass jihadi,’’ “green beret ambush’’ and “us soldier shooting’’ in late 2019 and through 2020, the papers said.

At one point, he allegedly admitted to the undercover, “I hate displaying the US flag on my shoulder,’’ apparently referring to his military uniform.

Bridges, who was with the Third Infantry Division out of Fort Stewart in Georgia, sought to even help ISIS attack his US comrades in the Mideast, authorities said.

His sick efforts included providing part of an Army training manual and combat-instruction video in a bid to help the terror group kill as many US soldiers as possible, officials said.

“Fortunately, the person with whom he communicated was an FBI employee, and we were able to prevent his evil desires from coming to fruition,’’ FBI Assistant Director William Sweeney Jr. said in a statement.

There were “diagrams that Bridges created demonstrating specific tactical maneuvers and strategy that ISIS should employ against U.S. forces, including rigging a compound with explosives for detonating when U.S. soldiers entered,” court papers alleged.

The documents included drawings that Bridges allegedly sent to the undercover agent showing a “ ‘bottleneck’ tactic” his unit would use “to create a ‘kill zone.’ “

The homegrown terror suspect even starred in a video he made for ISIS, authorities said.

Bridges “created a video for use by ISIS as propaganda, in which [he] appears in front of a jihadist flag, wearing body armor and speaking through a voice changer, and makes statements celebrating the anticipated ISIS attack on U.S. soldiers that [he] attempted to facilitate,” the feds said.

The turncoat private, who joined the Army in September 2019, “expressed his allegiance to ISIS and its radical jihadist ideology’’ including while he was with his unit at a US base in Germany in the fall, officials said.

The clueless Bridges boasted in the fall how his terrorist leanings were escaping detection by US authorities — despite the fact that he “used to have connections with people in Hamas and Isis,’’ the documents said.

“The government could have arrested me,’’ Bridges allegedly wrote. “So I needed to prove to them I wasn’t what they thought I was, and I needed the government to get off my back.

“It was never confirmed. They were suspicious,” he said of his allegiance to ISIS and US officials. “Even still because I had homeland security show up to my work before the army.”

Bridges, aka Cole Conzales, was arrested Tuesday and set to be hauled into federal court Thursday in that state, the feds said.

The suspect faces charges including providing material support to a foreign terror organization and the attempted murder of US servicemen.

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More via the DOJ press release

https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/us-army-soldier-arrested-attempting-assist-isis-conduct-deadly-ambush-us-troops

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Tuesday, January 19, 2021

U.S. Army Soldier Arrested for Attempting to Assist ISIS to Conduct Deadly Ambush on U.S. Troops

Provided Tactical Guidance in Attempt to Help ISIS to Attack U.S. Forces in the Middle East

Cole James Bridges, aka Cole Gonzales, 20, of Stowe, Ohio, was charged by complaint with attempting to provide material support to a designated foreign terrorist organization and attempting to murder U.S. military service members. The FBI and U.S. Army Counterintelligence arrested Bridges today, and he will be presented later today in the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of Georgia.

Bridges joined the U.S. Army in approximately September 2019 and was assigned as a cavalry scout in the 3rd Infantry Division based in Fort Stewart, Georgia. Beginning in at least 2019, Bridges began researching and consuming online propaganda promoting jihadists and their violent ideology. Bridges also expressed his support for the Islamic State of Iraq and al-Sham (ISIS) and jihad on social media. In or about October 2020, Bridges began communicating with an FBI online covert employee (the “OCE”), who was posing as an ISIS supporter in contact with ISIS fighters in the Middle East. During these communications, Bridges expressed his frustration with the U.S. military and his desire to aid ISIS. Bridges then provided training and guidance to purported ISIS fighters who were planning attacks, including advice about potential targets in New York City, such as the 9/11 Memorial. Bridges also provided the OCE with portions of a U.S. Army training manual and guidance about military combat tactics, for use by ISIS.

In or about December 2020, Bridges began to supply the OCE with instructions for the purported ISIS fighters on how to attack U.S. forces in the Middle East. Among other things, Bridges diagrammed specific military maneuvers intended to help ISIS fighters maximize the lethality of attacks on U.S. troops. Bridges further provided advice about the best way to fortify an ISIS encampment to repel an attack by U.S. Special Forces, including by wiring certain buildings with explosives to kill the U.S. troops. Then, in January 2021, Bridges provided the OCE with a video of himself in body armor standing before a flag often used by ISIS fighters and making a gesture symbolic of support for ISIS. Approximately a week later, Bridges sent a second video in which Bridges, using a voice manipulator, narrated a propaganda speech in support of the anticipated ambush by ISIS on U.S. troops.

Bridges is charged in the complaint with (1) attempting to provide material support to ISIS, in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 2339B, which carries a maximum sentence of 20 years in prison; and (2) attempting to murder U.S. military service members, in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 1114, which carries a maximum sentence of 20 years in prison. The statutory penalties are prescribed by Congress and are provided here for informational purposes only, as any sentencing of the defendant would be determined by the judge.

Attachment(s): Download Bridges Complaint.pdf

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More on the Islamic doctrine that guides people like Bridges/Gonzales via: Another Muslim-American Soldier Turns Terrorist Traitor

All of this goes back to one pivotal Islamic doctrine, known in Arabic as al-wala’ w’al bar’a. Perhaps best translated as “loyalty and enmity,” this inherently tribalistic doctrine calls on Muslims to maintain absolute loyalty to one another, while hating and seeking to undermine all non-Muslims—“even if they be their fathers, sons, brothers, or kin” (Koran 60:4; 58:22).

In the words of Koran 3:28, “Let believers not take for friends and allies infidels rather than believers: and whoever does this shall have no relationship left with Allah—unless you but guard yourselves against them, taking precautions.”

The words translated here as “guard” and “precaution” are derived from the Arabic word taqu, from the trilateral root w-q-y—the same root that gives us the word taqiyya, the Islamic doctrine that permits Muslims to deceive non-Muslims whenever under their authority.

Ibn Kathir (d. 1373), author of one of the most authoritative commentaries on the Koran, explains taqiyya in the context of verse 3:28 as follows: “Whoever at any time or place fears … evil [from non-Muslims] may protect himself through outward show.” As proof of this, he quotes Muhammad’s close companion Abu Darda, who once said, “Let us grin in the face of some people while our hearts curse them.”

Muhammad ibn Jarir at-Tabari (d. 923), author of another standard commentary on the Koran, interprets verse 3:28 as follows:

If you [Muslims] are under their [non-Muslims’] authority, fearing for yourselves, behave loyally to them with your tongue while harboring inner animosity for them … [know that] Allah has forbidden believers from being friendly or on intimate terms with the infidels rather than other believers—except when infidels are above them [in authority]. Should that be the case, let them act friendly towards them while preserving their religion.

The significance of Islam’s doctrine of Loyalty and Enmity—which is as ironclad in Islam as the so-called Five Pillars—concerning questions of national allegiance and security can hardly be clearer.

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American patriots - the MAGA / America First types - should be well aware after 15+ years of FBI stings that this is coming to the MAGA movement.

The entire War on Terror playbook has now been flipped to target red-blooded patriotic Americans.

As terror-linked and sharia-supremacist Muslims are prominently placed throughout the Biden administration, the MAGAphobia will reach levels well beyond 9/11 and many citizens will be jailed.

#Islam #Muslim #Sharia #Jihad #Legal #Law #News #Media #Military #politics #terror #travel #9/11

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minijenn · 4 years ago

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Hi so I'm interested in getting into the Kingdom Hearts series but I dont know which games to start, which games to avoid, and whether or not some of the games are canon or not. Could you help me please?

So the best thing you could get if you want to get into the series is this. (ignore the price tag Amazon has on it you can buy it at Walmart for like $20). It includes every game/cutscene movie in the series (except for the mobile game and the recently released Melody of Memory). Either way its the perfect collection to get you caught up to speed (I got caught up back before this complete collection existed so back then there were two collections you had to buy before they compiled them into just one lol). Either way, it includes basically every single thing you’ll need to get the (almost) complete story of KH. When it comes to what you’ll want to experience with it, here’s my take on things (in order of how you should play/watch them and what they are in that collection):

Kingdom Hearts (full game playable in the collection): Absolutely MUST play, its a great game and its story is the most simple in the series, very fun and charming and sets up some of the major characters (namely our main Destiny Trio) very nicely. Even if its not the first timeline wise, you’ll want to start with KH1 because of how it introduces the series and its concepts and characters in the most simplistic of ways

Chain of Memories (full game playable in collection, but honestly? I recommend just watching the cutscenes online its NOT fun to play through in my opinion): Again experience the story of this one at least. Its the direct sequel to KH1 and its where things start to get... kind of confusing. To fully understand what happens in this one, you may have to revisit it more than once, I’ve watched through it twice now and I’m still fucking baffled by a lot of it tbh but it sets up 2 so for that its worthwhile I guess?

358/2 Days (Cutscene Movie in collection); So you can watch all of the cutscenes in this one on the collection in a few hours. Its a pretty touching and emotional story focused on the Sea Salt Trio though it does have some... kind of confusing tangents in it too tbh. Either way its well worth the time to look into to learn more about certain characters, as well as the inner workings of Organization XIII

Kingdom Hearts 2 (full game playable in collection): MUST play, its fantastic tbh. Its often cited as the fandom’s favorite for a reason; it builds a TON on what KH1 set up, offers some really fun Disney worlds, and its plot is absolutely fucking batshit and I love that about it. Highly recommend this one for some of the character moments in it especially there are some really funny, really touching, and really heartbreaking scenes in this one, its a wild ride

Birth By Sleep (full game playable): MUST play though its kind of not that great to play in my opinion? Then again I suck at KH games so I might not be the best to ask in that regard XD Its story is great though, focusing on the Wayfinder trio and their absolute tragic backstory. Speaking of backstories, this a prequel, set like 10 years before KH1, something important to keep in mind going into it to avoid confusion (though you do see younger versions of some characters that show up in the “present” games so I suppose that helps lol)

Re:Coded (cutscene movie): Ugh... honestly? You can skip this one, it adds fucking nothing and its boring as hell to get through. If you really wanna sit through it, feel free to but its mostly a big old confusing waste of time if you ask me, one that doesn’t really add much to the story at all.

Union Cross/KHX/Back Cover: Ok so this is where it gets really confusing. Union Cross is the KH mobile game which I don’t recommend playing because from what I’ve heard its very grindy and basically its “pay to win”; so instead, I recommend getting caught up on this one through watching the “cutscenes” or reading through a plot synopsis online; This is another prequel, set waaaaaay before any of the other games and it has some... stuff thats significant mostly for the sake of KH3 and whatever will likely come after it more than anything else; Its story is... fine. Confusing as hell, but fine. Back Cover is a movie that’s on that collection that tells the story of the Foretellers and its boring as shit but I would recommend at least knowing what happens in it to understand the story of the first Keyblade War.

Dream Drop Distance (full game playable): Absolutely recommend this one, its a delight to play through and has a really fun (but also hella fucking confusing) story (confusing is a word thats very often used to describe KH for a reason XD); Its set after KH2 and follows Sora and Riku and its basically building up towards KH3 and elements that show up there. Again, highly recommend this one its one of my favorites of the bunch

Fragmentary Passage (full game playable): Though that game is only like 2 hours long. This is sort of another prequel though its also set during KH1 and you play as Aqua, who I’m in love with :) It was kind of made as a KH3 tech demo and that’s why its so short but its pretty fun and its story is compelling enough to keep you going as it continues building the way towards 3

Kingdom Hearts 3 (full game playable): Absolutely play this one; I may have my problems with its story, but its a hella fun time gameplay wise and its story has... its moments where its not fucking stupid. Though some of it is fucking stupid and I just have to deal with that :) Anyway KH3 is the conclusion of what’s called the “dark seeker” arc, which is really just the arc where we have Xehanort and the Organization as antagonists, tho knowing this hell series I’m sure they’ll all fucking come back someday :P Anyway its the culmination of a lot of things throughout the series and while some ends aren’t tied up the best, others are beautifully here. Totes recommend even if I personally have a very love/hate relationship with it ^_^

Re:Mind (bonus online purchase): This isn’t a game but its KH3′s DLC and it likely isn’t included in that story so far set. It basically adds more onto KH3′s ending and sets up for whatever game will come next after it (and also sets up MoM)

Melody of Memory (not included in set): The newest game in the series and a rhythm game at that; its largely just a recap of past games and their events, but the gameplay is really fun and addictive, plus KH music slaps. It does have about 15 minutes of brand new story content tacked onto the end of it, which again, is setting up for whatever game likely comes next, but if ya wanna skip it, I wouldn’t blame you, its waaaaaaay too expensive right now, I’d honestly just wait for a price drop :P

Dark Road: This is another mobile game and it basically tells Master Xehanort’s backstory; I personally haven’t looked into this one because I don’t give a single fuck about that asshole’s history but ya can if you want more context into his character I guess :/

And those are all the KH games. There’s a fucking lot of them and I hate them all. I also love them all. I basically love/hate this entire hell series,, so much so that I decided to write a shitty angst fic about it (which I highly recommend if you do actually go through all of the KH games, Keys to the Kingdom is basically an AU of KH3 and also sort of a “fix it fic” of sorts XD its a good, tragic time all around XD (forgive the shameless self promotion)) Anyway, enjoy the insanity that is KH!

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dolansmith · 5 years ago

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CEO Pt. One~ Grayson Dolan

A/N: It’s been So Long since i’ve felt inspired to write but when that inspiration hit? It hit, and I’m glad because it’s the most I’ve written out consecutively ever. I hope y’all like it! Also! Let me know if you want to be tagged?

Read Part Two here

Summary: YN is an aloof businesswoman that meets her match in the hopeless romantic that is Grayson Dolan.

Warnings: kinda rough unprotected smut, swearing, smoking

Word Count: 3,311

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Y/N wasn’t the kind of woman to get caught up in men. She hadn’t been since she was in school. After a taste of success on the platform that was Youtube, and a major fuck up from a romantic partner, she realized that nothing, especially no man, could satisfy her inner cravings like her passions could. And Y/N only had two passions: sex and money. So after having saved as much money as possible, she rolled the dice and began her own company—selling sex toys.

Fast-forward a few years and her Youtube channel was a mixture of artistic videos, makeup tutorials, lingerie hauls and 15 minute-long ads for her own company—which had tripled in size. Long gone was the 18 year old girl who got her heart broken constantly, in her place was a woman that held her own and could make a grown man weak.

Grayson Dolan was no exception.

It was a regular, run of the mill Youtuber party—one Grayson almost didn’t go to as he and his twin only uploaded on the platform once or twice every other month. Their almost-departure from the platform wasn’t intentional, but their production company kept them plenty busy. While Y/N was fairly consistent in terms of uploading content, she hardly ever went to Youtuber parties. She was usually working. On occasion, if she decided she wanted to have sex, she’d pick someone up at a bar, get herself taken care of, and go back to work. That particular night, though, her closest friend convinced her to go. At the very least to be a wingman for when she decided to get with the host of the party.

So Y/N went to the party and that was how she ended up sitting on the host’s balcony to smoke, so she’d be away from everyone, as she decided where to go at that point. The feeling in the pit of her stomach told her she needed release, and the friction from rubbing her thighs wasn’t doing it anymore. In the entire hour she’d been at the party, she hadn’t met anyone—man or woman—that she wanted to take home. The cigarette helped ease her while she figured out if she wanted to go to a bar, or if she’d handle it solo that night.

I want to get fucked, she thought to herself.

Once deciding what she wanted to do, she searched through her phone, reading reviews of the bars nearest to her, occasionally taking a drag of her cigarette as she scrolled through Yelp.

“Mind if I bum one?” A deep voice asked, making Y/N tear her attention from her phone. She looked the man up and down, an eyebrow raising involuntarily. He was big. In almost every sense of the word: tall, muscular, and from the slight imprint she could see on his pants, he was well endowed.

“Not at all,” she stated, taking her pack of spirits from her purse, offering it to him. He took one gingerly, placing it to his lips. Before he could ask, Y/N was already standing up, flicking her lighter to light him up.

He smiled sheepishly, “thanks.” She nodded, waving him off before taking a seat again, gesturing for him to sit with her. After a moment of taking in the beautiful, and intimidating, stranger in front of him, he took the seat next to her. “I’m Grayson, by the way,” he introduced himself, reaching his free hand out for her to shake.

She raised an eyebrow in question for a moment, “I know who you are.” It was Grayson’s turn to raise a brow in question. Instead of continuing the sentiment, she introduced herself, taking his hand in hers, “Y/N. Nice to meet you, Grayson.”

She held the handshake for a beat longer than necessary, the action not going unnoticed by Grayson. “So, how come you’re up here smoking, instead of downstairs in the backyard with actual people?”

“I could ask you the same question, couldn’t I?”

Grayson chuckled, “You could.” The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Grayson desperately wanted to fill it, Y/N desperately wanted to know how much longer they had to make small talk before she could slyly ask him to take her home. “Truthfully, I saw a beautiful woman and I wanted to talk to her. So I asked to bum one, even though I don’t even smoke.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what she was expecting in terms of an answer, but that wasn’t it. Despite that, his candor made a real laugh escape from through her lips. “I commend the honesty, but you could’ve just talked to me, it would’ve probably been borderline creepy either way, though,” she smirked as a blush formed on the apples of his cheeks. “Cute,” she commented, making his blush deepen.

The goofy smile on Grayson’s face made her almost not want to take him home. He was too sweet. “Shut up. C’mon, I told you my reason, what’s yours?”

Y/N looked at him for a moment, wondering if she really wanted to take Grayson home. One glance at his bulging biceps and the way his pants started stirring by just her gaze, she decided almost instantaneously that even if he didn’t come home with her, she’d be playing with herself while picturing him that night. Might as well have the real thing. “I was deciding what bar to go to to pick someone up.” He visibly gulped, making Y/N want to bend over in that same second for him. “I’m not sure that’s necessary anymore, what do you think?” Her eyes didn’t leave his, and she watched as his hazel orbs darkened in desire, any trace of the sweet and almost vulnerable man she’d seen just seconds ago was washed away.

Knowing his bulge was evident through his striped pants, he turned his body to face Y/N. After flicking his cigarette onto the ground he leaned in a little closer, leaving their faces just inches from each other. Y/N could tell she was already soaked by the mere look he was giving her. She copied Grayson in tossing the cigarette, leaning even closer. “I think…” he started, placing a gentle hand on her hip, rubbing circles into it with his thumb before continuing, “I think that’d be a waste of a few trips and gas—wouldn’t be very environmentally conscious of you, would it?”

She nodded, “You’re absolutely right, how inconsiderate of me.” Her lips were just a hair away from his now. Her core was aching in waves to the rhythm of the circles Grayson traced on her jeans. “Thanks for keeping me environmentally friendly,” she practically whispered before colliding her lips to his. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her off her chair with ease. She caressed the stubble on his face as he walked her into the bedroom connected to the balcony. He dropped her gently onto the bed before pulling his shirt off over his head, leaning down to attack her neck with his lips. He kissed, licked and sucked gently, careful to not leave any marks as she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down hastily. Grayson chuckled at her eagerness before clasping his hand around her neck firmly, pushing her into the bed, “Don’t be so hasty, babygirl, or I won’t fuck you the way you want me to.”

She groaned at the nickname, her pussy was aching to be touched by him, but as much as she wanted him, she wanted to be in charge more. Looking him right in the eyes, she wrapped her jean clad legs around his torso and with all the strength she could muster, she used his surprise to her advantage and flipped him over to be under her. Grayson was shocked as she straddled him, wrapping her smaller hand around his throat, squeezing the sides of it as she leaned down to kiss him passionately. She ground into his boxer clad boner, moaning as she straightened back up, hand still around his throat, “It’s ma to you, honey.”

If it were possible to be more turned on, Grayson would be. Women didn’t generally fight for dominance with him. Defiantly, he ripped her crop top into two pieces of fabric, revealing the lacy black bra underneath, which he easily unclasped, immediately taking one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking on it greedily as he unbuttoned her jeans. The moan that escaped her lips that time was so loud, he wondered if she was a screamer. Deciding he didn’t want to wait to find out, he easily grabbed her hips and flipped her back under him. Grayson pulled her jeans off in record time, standing up to admire her body for a moment.

Y/N groaned in anticipation, throwing her legs up to pull him down. She pushed his shoulders down with her legs until he was on his knees on the bedside. He got the message clearly, tearing her panties apart. “Are you kidding me?” Y/N asked, laughing breathlessly.

“I’ll buy you new ones—and a new shirt.” He smirked. She wanted to wipe that right off his face. The only way she could think to do so was to shove his face between her legs.

Grayson happily and eagerly licked between her folds, making Y/N arch her back in anticipation. Grayson wanted to taste her, pleasure her, slowly build her into orgasm—but Y/N wanted to get fucked. “Baby boy, this is sweet,” she started as he pushed in a finger carefully, licking circles around her clit, “But foreplay is for lovers, suck on my clit and then fuck me already.”

Grayson didn’t need to be asked twice, he went down on her until she was bucking her hips, nearing her orgasm. She grabbed his hair in fistfuls, “Don’t stop, Grayson. Fuck, baby, please!” He lifted her hips, never letting up on her clit, and looking up into her face, relishing in the stoic woman becoming putty in his hands. Her groans and moans grew louder, Grayson was sure her orgasm was going to attract attention downstairs, which only pushed him to get her to scream. Grayson wrapped an arm around her wide hips to keep them up as he pushed two fingers inside of her, walking them on her g-spot. This sent Y/N over an edge, screaming his name so loud, he wondered if she remembered where they were or if she simply didn’t care. She breathed heavily as she began to grind herself on his face, coming down from her high.

Before she could fully compose herself, Grayson flipped her onto her stomach, eliciting a gasp from the woman he needed to be inside of. He hadn’t ever needed someone like that in his life, but looking at her glistening pussy made him so eager, he didn’t even try to ease himself in—he bottomed out immediately. Y/N gasped loudly as she felt him in her stomach, “Fuck, a little warning would’ve been appreciated, baby boy.” Grayson barely heard her, though, as he felt his body tense up. She felt so good. He slowly pulled himself back out, making them both moan lowly, “Grayson—“

He stopped his movements, he was only halfway out when he leaned forward, grabbing a fistful of her hair, “I’ve put up with your lip, but if you want me to fuck you, we’re going to do it at my pace.” She groaned, she usually wasn’t this turned on by being a bottom, but he’d brought her to such an intense orgasm that she let it slide, wanting nothing more than another one, she turned her head back to look at him, “I’m sorry, sir.”

“That’s right, ma,” Grayson said, kissing her softly, making her stomach flutter at the stark difference that kiss was to the way he was pulling her hair. Without warning, he was pounding into her roughly, one fist in her hair, the other on her hip, smacking her ass roughly every now and then. He fucked her so roughly, practically tossing her into different positions like a rag doll that she stopped thinking altogether, just enjoying being fucked by a man.

At some point he flipped her onto her back, his face in the crook of her neck as he pounded in and out of her slick, tight pussy. “Grayson,” she moaned. He was getting closer to cumming, wishing he didn’t have to just yet. Y/N felt the exact same, wanting it to never end. The familiar feeling was building in the pit of her stomach, causing her moans to increase in volume again. She opened her eyes to see Grayson looking at her, beginning to slow his hips. She shook her head frantically, “Don’t slow down, baby, I'm so close.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, “Me too, but I don’t wanna—“

“We can go back to mine after if you want, just please let me cum.” With that, he picked up his pace, groaning loudly and closing his eyes as he came closer to release. She grabbed his jaw in her hand roughly, holding him in place and looking him in the eyes as she bucked her hips against him, making his jaw drop slightly, “You gonna cum for me, baby?” She asked lowly; he nodded in response. “Look me in the eyes when you do.” His groans and her moans filled the room as they came together, their eye contact increasing the intimacy and intensity. Grayson half-collapsed on her, getting no protest from Y/N as she kissed his forehead. “That was fucking amazing,” he whispered, his head landing in the crook of her neck.

“You still wanna go to my place?” She asked. He nodded eagerly and bolted upright to get his clothes on. Y/N giggled at his eagerness as she put on what was left of her ensemble, rolling her eyes as she was half naked. Grayson laughed at the stern look on her face. She rolled her eyes as she picked her purse off the floor, leading the way out. Grayson followed her out, reaching for her hand. She raised an eyebrow at him, “Hand holding?” Grayson shrugged, tightening his hold on her as they walked out of the influencer’s house. Y/N was catching stares from her sudden toplessness, but she shrugged them off as she led Grayson out.

“Did you uber here?” She asked. Grayson nodded as she led them to her car. She tossed him the keys, “You alright to drive?” He nodded again, smiling softly, seeing her eyes were getting heavier once they were seated. Y/N put the address into the car’s GPS and the ride was silent aside from the music playing on the radio. She wasn’t sure if it was the way his jaw clenched as he drove, or if she was trying to wake herself up a little more because she really didn’t want the night to end, but she moved to take her seatbelt off, sat on her knees, and turned to Grayson.

“W-what are you doing?” Grayson knew exactly what she was doing.

“Returning a favor,” was all Y/N said before unzipping his pants and tugging at their waistband and the waistband of his boxers simultaneously. Grayson went back and forth between looking at her and the road, his palms sweating as he lifted his hips for her to have access to him. His dick popped out from the cotton that kept it captive and bobbed up towards his stomach, making Y/N moan at the sight. She knew he was big, she felt him in her stomach but seeing it? It made her core tingle in anticipation for what they were going to do back at her house.

She spit into her hand and wrapped her fingers around his dick, stroking it a few times before taking the tip into her mouth. Making Grayson moan and tighten his hands on the wheel.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. She’s a fucking psychopath, he thought briefly as she took more and more of him in her mouth. Slowly but surely she got his entire member inside her mouth, loving the feel of it in the back of her throat. She picked up speed, making Grayson’s hips buck in surprise, tingling at the vibrations from her moans. He peeked down at her and saw she was bobbing her head on him, while also playing with her clit. The sight had him groaning, wishing she was sitting on his face and that he wasn’t driving.

“Fuck,” he whispered as his balls began to tighten. Y/N pulled her hand from inside her pants and lightly grazed her nails against his balls, slowly tracing shapes into them. Grayson wished he could’ve held out to see what she would’ve done next, but suddenly he was slamming on the brakes, groaning out a loud obscenity, and bracing Y/N’s head before it hit the steering wheel.

As quickly as she started the act, she pulled herself back and into her seat, licking her lips in the process. “Your cum tastes really good,” she commented in surprise.

Grayson looked at her with wide eyes, putting his pants back on. Nodding his thanks, he couldn’t help himself when he grabbed her face and kissed her passionately. She returned the sentiment, giggling as he said, “You’re fucking crazy.”

The rest of the drive was filled with laughter and light jokes as they decided to get to know each other throughout the rest of the 40 minute drive. By the time they pulled into her driveway, they knew each other’s family member’s names, tidbits about their high school years, and quite a bit about work—both being devoted to what they work in.

“Ethan and I really want to take on a new… project, I guess you could call it. It’s more of a second business. We’re just worried that we won’t be able to put in as much of ourselves into it as we’d like. The production company takes a lot of manpower to keep running,” Grayson said as they walked through Y/N’s front door.

Y/N nodded, processing it as she pulled out a couple of wine glasses, pouring some rosé, her favorite. “I don’t think it should be as complicated as you’re making it, Grayson,” She began, handing him the second glass. “If it’s important to you and your brother, then make it a priority while its a seedling. Your company’s expanding pretty rapidly, right?”

“Yeah, sort of, its been kind of overwhelming honestly.”

“Then expand a little bit in terms of employees. Add in a couple of people to oversee projects for you and Ethan. You guys could be proper CEOs. Working on budgets and expansion, and dipping into the creative aspect now and then after this other project gets on its feet.”

“What if we’re too small to be adding any additional roles? What if it sinks us?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before offering her help, “I’m sure it won’t, but in any case, I can take a look at it for you with some of my team, see what route is best for you guys.” She’d never even held a full conversation outside of sex with a one night stand before, let alone practically asked to see them again in the light of day. Grayson seemed very genuine though, she’d taken a bit of a liking to him. She could see him almost being a friend of some sort. Maybe one with benefits.

“You’d do that?” Grayson asked in surprise.

“Sure, why not?” She asked. That was all he needed to hear.

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