#i'll edit later mic

[landosjpg]

fall back together | ln

the one where your ex-boyfriend invites you to spend a few days with him, but you two still have feelings for each other.

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: pining, the tiniest bit of fluff i believe, language, smut, oral (f recieving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cockwarming

note: ehhh i don't really know how to feel about this but i wanted to post something, once again not proofread! also i have a looooong flight later this week so pls send in some requests so i can entertain myself during it! <3

you and lando had dated for a little over two years when you decided to call it quits. it wasn't messy; you two had mutually decided to stay as friends. and for the few months that you had been just that, it had worked well so far.

that's why lando had decided to invite you over for the monaco grand prix, insisting that you should spend a few days prior with him so you two could catch up and spend some time together.

as friends, of course.

it took him a few days to convince you, but you finally agreed. and that's why you found yourself walking down the corridor that led to his apartment, suitcase in hand. you could hear his giggles already from the other side of the hall, the sound bringing a smile to your face.

as you opened the door with the keys that he had insisted you should keep after breaking up, for emergencies (even when you lived in a total different country), you heard him talking.

"hey, chat!" you heard him say. you should've guessed he would use his days at home to stream like he used to. "guess who's here!"

you smiled as you walked to the room he was in. the fans had always loved you; you saw the edits they made of your relationship, how everyone used to lose their minds over the way you two looked at each other when you decided to make an appearance on one of his streams.

utterly in love.

and of course, you saw how everyone couldn't believe it when he had announced the end of your relationship.

it's not like any of you had expected it either, but you knew it was for the best or the relationship would consume one of you. but you were happy you had managed to make a friendship work, not really wanting to lose lando. and of course, his fans were excited to see you again.

he turned his chair around as you entered the room, his smile widening as soon as he saw you. you walked his way, happily waving at the camera. normally, he would grab your waist and pull you into his lap.

but this time he didn't.

so you stood there, right next to his chair. and as much as you knew that was how things were, it didn't fell completely right to you.

"i think i'm gonna head to bed," you interrupted after a few minutes in which you talked with him and with the viewers, answering a few questions just like you used to do before everything went down.

but after a long flight and a taxi ride to his house, you felt exhausted and all you wanted was to lie down and call it a day.

lando reached to mute his mic before he could answer you, turning to look at your face as he spoke.

"take my bed, i'll sleep in the spare room," he said. you were certain that the fans would try to decipher what you were saying later, but you didn't really care.

you thought about what he was proposing. it would feel weird, sleeping in his bed without him, so you weren't really convinced about it. and he must had seen it in your face, because before you could say anything, he added:

"come on, y/n". you're tired and the spare bed isn't even made," he looked at you with soft, pleading eyes.

you knew he still wanted the best for you, so you sighed in defeat and accepted his offer with a nod of your head.

after saying goodbye to the chat, you left the room to get ready for bed. as you went through your daily night routine in the bathroom, you noticed how everything you had left there behore the break-up was still in its place.

it looked like you had never left.

you tried not to think too much about it, there could be multiple reasons why he had decided to keep all your stuff. he definitely had moved on, right? it had been months since you two ended things.

you brushed it off, not really wanting it to get to your head and then walked to his room. everything was just like you remembered. damn, he even kept some pictures of you on his wall.

with your pajamas on, you climbed into his bed and covered your body with the soft sheets, the smell of him quickly washing all over you.

you rolled around with a sigh, the bed feeling way too big now that he wasn't next to you to wrap hismself around you. you were unable to sleep as your mind filled with all the nights spent in that exact same mattress between laughs, kisses and endless conversations.

you missed the feeling of his arms around your waist, the sound of his snores and the warmth of his body enveloping you every night.

with your mind racing with all the memories that wouldn't leave your brain, you realized it had been hours since you got in bed when you checked the time on your phone. the house was completely silent by that moment, so you figured lando was already asleep.

you sighed and got up, wandering to the kitchen silentely to not wake him up, with the intention of making yourself a tea that would hopefully help you sleep.

୨୧

sat on the counter, you contemplated the city lights with a warm mug of tea in your hands. the only light that illuminated the kitchen was te one that came out of your room. lando's room.

you were lost in your own thoughts, so you didn't notice his figure walking towards you.

"is that seat taken?" his voice made you jump a little in surprise, swearing under your breath as you turned to look at him, simply shaking your head in response. "sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he added with a chuckle, sitting on the stool right next to you.

you didn't really know what to say, so silence fell between you two while you just stared at each other. despite of it being dark, you could appreciate his messy curls, the spark on his eyes and the sly smile that beautifully decorated his lips.

"can't slep?" his voice was low and tender as he brokw the silence.

"bed feels too big."

at your answer, he just nodded. he kept quiet for a few seconds, pensive, and you could see that he was wondering wheter what he was about to say was appropriate or not.

"you know, as much as it hurts... i'm happy that you're moving on," he finally broke the silence, his words hitting you like a truck.

"i'm not... what do you mean?" you asked in confussion, but your mind was more focused on the fact that the possibility of you moving on hurt him.

"i've seen the pictures."

despite of the sadness that his whisper hid, you knew he wasn't mad at you. he had always said that he wanted you to be happy, whether it was with or without him.

silly of him to think that anyone else could ever make you as happy as he once did.

"just a friend," you mumbled, knowing that he was talking about the guy in your latest posts. but he was nothing more than a friend to you, not even close. "not really my type," you joked, earning a little smile from his lips.

once again, the silence felt deafening as he didn't give you an answer. your nerves were starting to kick in and so, in an attempt to try and make it feel less awkward between you two, you gazed back to the window.

"do you ever miss me?" he whispered again seconds later, the simple question making you freeze.

the answer was easy: yes, like crazy. but you couldn't just say that.

as he waited for you to reply, you felt his eyes on you, curious about what you would answer. and you swore he could hear your heart racing in your chest.

"sometimes, yeah," you finally decided to give him the truth.

or part of it, because confessing that it hadn't been a day in which he didn't cross your mind at least twice a day made you feel too exposed and vulnerable.

you halted when you felt his hand creeping up your legs slowly, stopping when he reached your thigh.

"i miss you, too," his murmur sent you a shiver down your spine, and he was looking up at you from where he was sitting, with puppy eyes.

you knew damn well what those words meant, and you felt your heart breaking at your own answer.

" i don't think it's a good idea, lan," you murmured, not able to hold his gaze for long.

"i know", he uttered, and you felt him sigh, but his hand stayed in your leg. "i'm sorry."

when you heard his simple apology, you closed yout eyes and tried to keep your tears from falling down your cheeks, but you failed miserably.

you knew he was apologizing for not being his best self during the last weeks of your relationship. at first, you had tried to convince yourself it only was a rough patch, but it was burning you down.

and, when you asked him for some time, he agreed. he knew he hadn't been the best boyfriend to you during that time, and he hated seeing you suffer because of him. so he ultimately decided to set you free.

"i'll never take you for granted again," he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears that fell down your face.

you hadn't noticed that he had stoop up from the stool and positioned himself between your legs, but having him so close again made your heart feel warm. and you looked down, knowing that if your eyes met his green orbits you'd throw yourself back right into his arms.

"lan..."

"i swear, y/n," he interrupted you; you could see his eyes were also watery, tears threatening to come out as well, but he held them back as he kept talking. "i know i fucked up, but it won't happen again."

closing your eyes, you sighed. your fingers softly wrapped around his wrist as you kept silently crying.

"please," his whisper made you sob, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and never let go of him. "i promise."

as you took in his words, your hand slid to his neck and he rested his forehead against yours. your breaths were mixing together and you nodded your head slightly, giving him your final answer with that small gesture.

before you could think about it, his lips were on yours. soft, just as you remembered, and you could taste both your tears on his lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if he didn't want you to slip out of his fingers again.

and you knew he didn't.

"i've missed this," he sighed in between kisses, pulling you a little closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist. "i've missed you, baby."

at the sweet pet name that you never thought you'd be hearing from his lips again, you exhaled with a smile.

"want to join me in bed?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers softly brushing against the skin of his neck. you wanted nothing more than to sleep next to him again, so close that one would think you two were literally attached at the hip.

"you're inviting me to my bed?" he chuckled as his arms went lower on your body, pulling you closer and picking you up from the counter.

"our bed," you corrected him with a giggle of your own.

he planted a soft kiss on your lips and walked you back to his room, wrapped in his arms. he lied you down on the mattress gently, keeping his body over yours. your gazes locked for a few seconds before his lips attacked yours hungrily, the tenderness of the previous interactions now long gone.

your hands roamed all over each other's bodies, clothes soon flying everywhere as both your breaths got heavier.

he started trailing small, wet kisses down your breasts and torso, his hands carefully pulling your underwear down your legs. he spread your open for him and positioned himself between your thighs, looking up at you from the edge of the bed.

you slightly nodded, giving him permission to go on. a long sigh left your lips as soon as you felt his lips pressing a soft kiss on your sensitive bud, and your fingers instinctively got lost in his curls, urging him closer.

"you're so gorgeous, baby," he mumbled, his hot breath against your slick making you moan softly.

you felt his tongue flatten against you and he started licking your cunt as if he was starving. a smug expression plastered on his face when your back arched as his lips found your clit again and he sucked, fingers tugging on his hair.

"fuck, lando..." you stuttered, your legs closing around his head as you felt the knot on your lower stomach about to snap. a small groan escaped his lips, his hands gripping around your thighs, surely leaving small bruises on your smooth skin.

soon, the warmth of his tongue on your pussy felt too overwhelming and your orgasm didn't take long to wash over you, leaving you a moaning mess under his touch.

as you came down from your climax, he got rid of his boxers and hovered over you again, his lips finding yours once more. as you tasted yourself on his tongue, you hummed contently into the kiss, your fingers finding their wait to his curls again.

"you alright, love?" he gently asked, taking a minute to look into your eyes.

"need you inside of me," you panted, your legs hooking at each side of his body as you pulled him closer.

he locked his lips with yours as he teased your folds with his cock, both of you moaning into the other's mouth at the friction. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you, letting you adjust to his size.

"so fucking tight for me, baby," his voice sounded breathless as he started thrusting into you without a hurry.

he took it slow, his movements almost lazy but deep.

and god, did it feel good.

you held each other tightly as he kept that slow pace that you two seemed to be enjoying. he reveled in the way your sweet moans filled the room and your nails drew crescent moons on his shoulders, your face contorting in pleasure as he stretched you out deliciously.

feeling your second orgasm starting to build up, your pussy clamped down on him, drawing him even deeper inside of you; which resulted in a low grunt from his lips.

"baby, i'm gonna... fuck..." you whimpered, unable to even form a proper sentence as the pressure in your lower stomach increased again.

"look at me, love," he groaned, and you did as he had asked.

with your gazes locked in each other's, it only took the two of you a few strokes to come undone, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him cumming inside of you and leaving you weak under his body.

he collapsed on top of you, a little winded as he left a sweet kiss on your lips before moving to lay down on the mattres, pulling you with him.

"i love you," he uttered, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as he kept his cock buried deep inside of you.

"i love you, lan," you mumbled, your face finding the spot between his jaw and his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling yourself slowly drifting off to sleep with your nose nuzzled on his neck.

[pajarinwrites]

中秋节 | Wen Junhui x Reader

➳ fem!reader x jun

➳ wc: 6.1k

➳ TAGS: idol!au, established relationship

➳ WARNINGS: omg um, cunnilingus, jun is a SIMP, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it, my dudes), praise, just general adorable lovey dovey softness, but like medium rough sex? ig, not really rough?, i never know how to write warnings, just like i don't know how to write smut woops sorry

➳ AN: HAPPY MID AUTUMN FESTIVAL BITCHES and 女王们; this is only moderately edited bc i actually meant to publish smt for 中秋节 last year but i didn't finish it in time so here it is now (I’m sure it’s still autumn festival somewhere in the world…)! I LOVE WEN JUNHUI

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT I HATED THIS AHHHH i don't think i'll ever be able to write any smut in which the man isn't a simpering, whimpering, submissive, cowering, crawling, obsequious little simping piece of trash; it's just how i like my men, but i kinda wanna challenge myself some time, not this time though :P also i'm low-key proud of this smut? i used miraclewoozi as an inspiration bc their smut is literal art...

also, literally three pieces in one week??? WHO AM I??? this is more than in the entire year before combined, i fear lmao. sorry. i'm off to return to hibernate in my bog for another six months now thx bye, RIN OUT *drops mic

masterlist

Jun stepped out of the airport into the sweltering heat, but had to find that merely knowing the weather conditions was quite different from being prepared for them. Luckily, he had left enough space in his carry-on to take off the jacket and sweater that he had needed in chilly Seoul and during the flight – airplane ACs were notoriously unpredictable. Despite this, Hong Kong never seized to amaze him with its constant warmth. At least the eternal sunshine gave him a good excuse to wear a cap and sunglasses at all times.

He flagged down a cross-border cab because, frankly, he didn’t feel like taking the crowded metro all the way home. This way he saved himself from a lot of heat, hassle, and the potential of being recognised, even if it delayed him. As expected, the traffic in the city was a nightmare and he did make it home later than strictly necessary. He paid the fee, dodging the driver’s interested gaze, and mumbling a small “mh gōi” before dashing into his building.

When he was finally standing in front of his apartment door, Jun felt ready to just lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. That was, until the door opened to reveal his parents and little brother. Immediately, his frown softened and he dropped his bags to engulf them in one enormous hug.

“I missed you guys so much,” he exclaimed to groans from his little brother and a soft smile from his mother.

This was most likely going to be the last chance he got to spend more than a day or two with them. With their world tour and his busy filming schedule just around the corner, he wouldn’t have time for months.

Jun had spent years of Zhōngqiūjié apart from them. It wasn’t easy to watch most of his members be able to visit their homes and spend Chuseok with their loved ones. Some years it was only him, Minghao, and Joshua in the dorms. But he wasn’t going to dwell on that. Not when he could finally hold the people he loved the most in his arms. Well, most of them at any rate. He would never get used to having to choose between his biological and his chosen family.

His mother peeled herself away from him, squeezing his cheek and insisting that he had grown even more handsome over the last few weeks.  His step father clapped him on the shoulder and asked him about the flight; his brother asked if he had brought him anything cool. Unable to stop smiling for even a second, Jun assented to both questions. He was led to the living room by his mother to sit and relax after the ‘strenuous journey’, giving him a moment to fish the presents out of his luggage, handing one off to his little brother.

“Thanks, gē!” YangYang exclaimed and bounded off to his room to open it in peace. Their mother called after him, “Don’t forget to do your homework before playing! Dinner will be ready in an hour!” Jun smiled, handing his parents the other one.

“You shouldn’t have! I keep telling you we don’t need anything.”

“But I want to get you guys nice things, mā.”

She looked trapped half-way between smitten and resigned, but accepted the present gracefully. With a kiss on the top of his head she stated, “You can rest a little before I call you boys for dinner. I’m making your favourite.”

He thanked her, foregoing the idea of retiring to his room in favour of joining his mother in the kitchen. Most of the ingredients were already laid out on the counter, but when she bent down to pick up something from the bottom shelf, she gasped, “I can’t believe it! Where did all of our rice noodles go? I don’t think this is enough. And I also forgot to buy bamboo shoots earlier!”

She turned around, apologetically, and murmured about having to go to the market real quick to get some. Jun held out his hand to stop her in her tracks.

“Don’t worry, mā. I’ll go get the missing ingredients, and you can get started on the other dishes.”

“No let me go, Jun. You’ve just had a taxing flight and—“ His step-father tried to intervene.

“It’s absolutely no problem!” Jun insisted, not paying his parents’ protests any mind. He grabbed his sunglasses from the side table by the entrance and was out the door before either of them could stop him.

Jun had missed their shèqū, its homely atmosphere, the bustling of the people on the street, and hence didn’t mind the opportunity for a late-night stroll. The closest super market was just down the short road at the main square, and he stopped by quickly before continuing on his way to the live market.

There was a certain nostalgia in going to the market like this, just the way he used to with his mother when he was younger. The stalls didn’t even seem to have changed at all. There was the same group of old ladies dancing in the small park to the side, and a little further down the road, a small group of children was taking turns, performing on a gǔzhēng. Jun watched the windows of his old piano school pass by, still partially lit as students practiced inside. At the corner of the next street was the second-hand book store they had often visited, next to the pharmacy in which he used to sit on the kiddie rides for ages, singing along to jiātíng chēnghu or liǎng zhī lǎohǔ.

Still lost in nostalgia, he stopped by one of the vegetable vendors to acquire the bamboo shoots. Jun enjoyed strolling the aisles leisurely, taking a look at all the things that were being sold. As he rounded one of the displays, someone else was cutting the corner in the opposite direction. Jun barely managed to dance out of the trajectory of them, murmuring an immediate, “Sorry, are you okay?”

He pulled down his sunglasses and looked at the person in front of him in worry. They looked up, locked eyes with him and whisper-screamed, “Oh my god! Wen Junhui?”

Jun was taken aback for only a split second, which he spent worrying he had been recognised, before he could place your face. He hadn’t seen you properly in years, just another name on the long list of people he had to leave behind. The last time you had run into each other had been during Rock With You promotions, when Minghao and he had taken time for their own schedules in China. His eyes crinkled in the corners but he still didn’t dare to take off his mask.

“It’s been so long!” He said instead. You had pulled him into your arms within a second, just a quick squeeze before remembering where you were. You pulled away, pouting, “You didn’t tell me you’d be back.”

“Sorry, it slipped my mind. I also didn’t think I’d have enough time to meet you. Not properly…”

You wiggled your eyebrows, “What does that mean?” Jun blushed, making you laugh. “I’m kidding, A-Jun. But I’m glad we ran into each other. I mean, what are the odds!”

“I didn’t even know whether you still lived here,” he admitted, sheepishly. But Jun wished profoundly that you could feel how earnest he was being. You didn’t actually seem to mind his failure to alert you of his arrival, despite your history. Instead, you continued in your usual chirpy manner, “Yeah, I managed to find work close by so I could stay here. But I’m here here just for the holiday. Staying at my parents, you know.” Jun nodded, accompanying you to the register under more animated chatter.

“Do you have to get anything else?” You asked after you had stepped out the open market. He negated, returning the question.

“Me neither,” you replied, hesitating shortly before continuing, “I guess that means we’ll have to part ways again…”

The way your voice trailed off and your eyebrows knitted together made Jun reply before thinking better of it, “Actually, I think my mā can wait for these bamboo shoots a little longer…” You face lit up with such intensity and immediacy that Jun had to chuckle.

“In that case let’s take a stroll through the park. I’ve been keeping up with Seventeen obviously, but I want to hear from you, personally, how you’ve been doing.”

Falling into step beside you felt so easy. Together, you walked the same paths you did when you were teenagers, talking about everything and anything – back before he had to leave for Korea. He talked a lot about the shoots, dorm fights and misunderstandings, and how much he had missed his mother’s cooking. You winked, asking whether he hadn’t missed you at all, and he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence in reply. Instead he sputtered for a few seconds before you let him off the hook.

“It’s fine. I was joking, Jun. Oh, look!” Jun was glad for the distraction as he watched you hurry of to the pavilion down the path. If you hadn’t changed the subject he might’ve said something stupid. But when you spun around to face him under the colourful roof, with the small pond and the bamboo in the background, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t say something stupid yet.

He was sitting next to you, listening to you rant about your catty co-workers, absent boss, and the general annoyances of adulthood, unable to stop himself from grinning like an idiot at the familiarity, the ease of the whole situation. At some point he shot his mom a text to let her know that he ran into you and to eat without him. She simply replied that he should take his time, but he felt like she was secretly glad to have the two of you reconnect. Your conversations veered from family to old memories together until eventually, when the sun had set almost completely, you got up abruptly.

“I should get back. My mom wasn’t expecting me back immediately but at this point she’s probably wondering if I’ve gotten lost.” Jun nodded, getting up with you and stepping out of the pavilion. You threw one look back over your shoulder before smiling down at your shoes.

“I don’t know if you remember but… this is where you said goodbye…” Jun blinked slowly before the memory registered. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t immediately thought of the day he went to Korea, the last day he spent with you, the day he missed his chance to say so many things he had wanted to say.

“Oh,” he breathes softly, “yeah, I remember. But it’s not a very fun memory.”

Jun decides to look anywhere but you, at the trees lining the road home to his apartment building, the birds flying overhead, the children playing across the street.

“I have to agree. But I’m glad to have you back now. Even if it’s just for an afternoon.”

“Actually, you should visit tomorrow! If you want, of course. I don’t think my family would mind seeing you again after such a long time, and…”

He stops in his tracks. The two of you have reached the intersection at which your ways part. Jun turned to face you. The words were still stuck in his throat, just like all those years ago, just like every time he’s seen you since. But this time, with your hopeful eyes looking up at him, he takes a deep breath. This time will be different. He takes the leap.

“… and I’d also love to spend more time with you.”

You smile in reply, and agree to visit tomorrow. To say goodbye, you hug him again, and he feels like he’s floating all the way home. Maybe tomorrow he’ll gain the courage to tell you everything that he’s been keeping in his heart.

Their dorms were quiet, the shared living areas swallowed in darkness as Jun excited his room. He had been talking to his family via video call for the past hour or two, catching up and trying their best to celebrate Zhōngqiūjié together, even when they were physically apart. You had initially planned on joining the call, but there had been last minute plans that had kept you from it. Even though Jun understood, he had been able to help feeling a little crestfallen when you had told him about it. The two of you had made it work since he confessed to you a year ago, talking almost weekly on the phone because both his and your commitments kept you from visiting all too often. And since this year he couldn’t visit home because of the impeding comeback, he would’ve at least enjoyed talking to you on the holiday proper, instead of just during one of your regularly scheduled calls. Especially with how long it had been since he’d last seen you in person in June. To him, an eternity.

Vernon, Dokyeom, and Chan had returned to their families for the evening to celebrate Chuseok together, leaving the dorm deserted, save Jun himself. They’d all met up for lunch as a celebration before most left to go home. It was an effort by the Korean members to ease the homesickness of those that wouldn’t be able to see their families over the holiday. Seungkwan had ended up accompanying Vernon, while Joshua and Minghao decided to simply celebrate with each other, even though they hadn’t been lacking in invitations either. Jun had made the same decision. They had let him know they’d be out until the night but that he could join them at their apartment later.

Especially Dokyeom had had a hard time simply leaving Jun behind, but the older man had insisted that he was going to be fine, and that it would give him a chance to call his family in China. But coming out of his room and being greeted with a cold, dark apartment, made Jun question his decision. He sighed, contemplating for a second whether he should simply return to his room instead of feeling the hollow emptiness of their shared dorm. But before he could make a decision, the doorbell rang.

He wasn’t expecting anyone, so the sudden shrill of the bell surprised him. Maybe it was one of the members, back early. Maybe Minghao and Joshua had decided to surprise him at the apartment. But when he looked at the screen of the camera system, he was greeted with a sight wholly unexpected. His breath hitched as he looked at you, your eyes staring straight at the camera, a warm smile on your face. Jun buzzed you in, jittery with nerves as he worried you might disappear or he might wake up. You had been talking about your crazy workload and extra assignments for the past few weeks, how on earth were you here?

This has to be a dream, he thought, standing in the open door and waiting for the tell-tale ping of the elevator. When he heard it, he couldn’t even wait for you to round the corner. In slippers, he sprinted down the hallway to the lift, coming face to face with you as you were trying to heave your luggage out. Jun cast it aside, picking you up and spinning you around. He buried his face in the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume and your skin.

“How are you here?” He whispered after a good few seconds of spinning and listening to your tinkling laugh.

“Well, you know, I bought a plane ticket, went to the airport in Hong Kong, I got on a plane—“ Jun interrupted you by picking you up again, proclaiming his happiness while you insisted that he finally put you down. If he had been a better man, he might’ve listened immediately. As it stood, it took the two of you several minutes to make it the short way from the elevator to his apartment door, Jun stopping every few seconds to give you another spin or a kiss.

Once you had finally made it safely inside, he brought your luggage to his room, before returning to the shared space and staring at you in fascination. There you were, right in front of him, leaning onto the counters of his dorm’s kitchen as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“How did you know I’d be home?” He asked and you giggled, presumably at his flabbergasted expression.

“I kind of asked the members for help…”

“What? Who?”

In hindsight, he thought he should’ve expected this. There had been a curious lack of invitations extended to him this year. Especially considering that Joshua and Minghao were still invited everywhere. And, thinking about it now, the fact that the two of them had insisted on spending the evening ‘outside’ without Jun had also been more than a little suspicious.

“Almost all of them helped coordinate it, actually. They all had to be in on it to some extent.”

“When did you start planning this?” He asked, making his way over to you. One last time, he picked you up, setting you down softly on the counter. This time you let him do as he pleased without protest, choosing to answer his question instead, “Like a month ago or so. When it started becoming clear that you’d have no chance to make it home this year.” Jun hummed in response, stepping closer to stand between your legs. His arms found their place around your waist.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing deeply when he felt you wrap your arms around him. He wished you could stay like this forever, or at least for a very, very long time. You turned your head, whispering that you had brought yuèbǐng from Shenzhen with you and he nodded automatically. Mentally, he was still focused only on your presence, the fact that he got to hold you in his arms and use his thumbs to draw absentminded circles on your waist. If he hadn’t been so focused on your body, he would’ve missed the small hitch of your breath as he exhaled against the column of your throat. He smirked lightly, murmuring something along the lines of ‘we can eat them later’ before attaching his lips to the place where your shoulder and neck met. You gasped, more audibly this time as he sucked on the sensitive skin, following the line of your collarbone. You tugged at his t-shirt, whispering that you should move to his bedroom but Jun smirked against your skin, slowly pushing up your shirt. As he tossed it over your head, he whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ve got the apartment to ourselves all night.”

He smoothed his hands under your thighs, grabbing onto your plush flesh and cursing the layer of your pants for stopping him from feeling your skin. Jun pulled you closer, to the edge of the counter, so that he could finally feel you pressed to him again, making his hands wander back up. He placed them on your waist, gingerly at first, as if you were going to vanish into thin air if he didn’t handle you with enough care. He still wasn’t sure you weren’t a figment of his imagination how you were sitting in front of him, hair and clothes messy from your flight, but your eyes shining so brightly he thought you were the most ethereal being on this planet. But when you bucked your hips forward against his, all that restrain flew out the window. He slid his hands lower from your waist, relishing in every inch of skin he got to touch along the way, before he settled them on your ass, encouraging your motions even further. Your arms tightened around him, one hand finding its way into his hair, the other toying with the collar of his t-shirt before slipping downwards and below the fabric to caress his back. He groaned, moving one hand - albeit reluctantly – away from your hips to tilt your head to the side. He was overwhelmed with your nearness, the swell of your breasts pressed against him, the smell of your skin filling his senses, spreading through him, expanding into every corner of his consciousness until all he could perceive was your presence, your breath, your skin on his.

You kissed him with so much vigour that he felt light-headed, the sparkle of your eyes encapsulated him, as if he was floating in space, surrounded by innumerable stars, twinkling around him. In his weightlessness, your hands were caressing him, still. You dropped them to the hem of his t-shirt, tracing along the exposed skin there as the rhythm of your hips never faltered.

You broke away, Jun following your lips with a whine. He wasn’t yet ready to leave your cosmos, but you pressed a soft hand against his chest, tugging his shirt off. Jun, personally, would have preferred to resume kissing you breathless right away, but you had other plans. Your hands returned to his chest, covering the expanse of his pectorals, gliding over the ridge of his shoulder, caressing every centimetre of skin while tracing the muscles across his torso. Every touch left a tingling feeling, pulling him deeper and deeper into your gravitation. His head was thrown back in pleasure, his eyes screwed shut while he tried (and failed) to even out his breathing under your attentive ministrations. When your hands returned to his chest and you flicked against his nipples tentatively, his head dropped forward in defeat, colliding with your shoulder.

He was breathing more heavily than he’d like to admit, as if he really was slowly rising through the atmosphere, the air becoming thinner and thinner. His cock was painfully hard, you grinding against it deliciously with every roll of your hips. Separated by way too many layers, Jun thought dimly before tapping against your ass, signalling for you to lift your hips off the counter.

You complied easily, leaning back in a way that allowed him to strip you of your comfy leggings. He watched you shudder at the feeling of cool marble under your skin, goosebumps forming at the sensation. Reverently, he let his hands glide up and down your legs, watching you shiver again, just from his touch. He hadn’t even realised that he had lowered himself down until one of your hands grabbed for his hair and tilted his head back.

Ripped out of his reverie, Jun stared up at you, towering over him, backlit by the kitchen lights. If it hadn’t meant leaving your reach, Jun would have fallen to his knees right this second. In this light, you looked like a higher being, come to cast divine judgement on him, a final reckoning. Jun found he would have taken any verdict, as long as it meant preserving your attention. He would have obliged any command, taken any punishment with equanimity. He would have taken Prometheus’ place, if it meant he could bask in your presence for another moment. He would suffer any acrimony, any scorn, any tribulation, if it meant your gaze would continue to rest on him like this – zeroed in on his face, your expression soft with adoration. He didn’t have to fear any judgment. The only thing written on your face was love. It was mirroring his own, he was sure, from where he was pleading for you attention from between your legs. You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, your fingers tugging at his hair with purpose. He angled his head, a miniscule movement, just enough to allow him to breathe a kiss against the inside of your thigh, a fluttering promise of continuation. If you let him. You loosened your grip, and Jun took it as the invitation that it was. His path mapped over the fat of your thigh, spilling over his kitchen counters, up one leg, down the other. All the while, he didn’t break eye contact, watching your expression crackle and slip, pleasure and frustration mixing in even measures as you breathed a plea, “Qīn'ài de, you’re teasing.”

His breathing became uneven, for just a second, at the term of endearment. You didn’t need to spell out your request. He could see it in the rise and fall of your chest, the sounds sneaking their way past your lips, the shifting of your hips – almost involuntary. The vision of you before him blurred as he tried to hear the rest of your declaration over the rushing in his ears. Your legs twitched under his hands; he didn’t remember when he had moved them there. But now they were here, holding your legs apart, leaving imprints in your flesh where they pressed against you. Jun searched your face for any sign of hesitance, any doubt, but he found none. All he could find was a sense of desperation clawing its way up your throat, leaving a blooming blush in its wake.

He still continued holding your gaze when he pressed his mouth to your core, pushing his tongue against the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped a little, hands twisting in his hair, the slight pain grounding him in this moment. His hands continued kneading your flesh, wandering, in feverish haste, across every expanse of skin they could cover. Above him, you writhed and moaned, his name leaving your lips as if you were now the one praying. Your head had tilted back slightly, breaking eye contact. But Jun’s gaze never left your face, drinking in every expression as he pushed your panties to the side to gain proper access to your sopping core.

“OhmygodJun,” you breathed, head lolling to the side when his tongue swirled around your most sensitive spot. One hand moved from your ass to your core, probing at your entrance just to feel you clench around him, hear the sharp intake of your breath. You tipped backwards, resting on your elbows as his name continued to tumble off your lips into the still air of the apartment. Jun’s other hand moved upwards, taking no care in pushing your sports bra out the way to grab at your breasts, pinching your nipples intermittently. He watched your chest heave as he slipped two fingers past your entrance at once, his tongue lapping between them, desperate to taste as much of you as possible. Your hands kept pushing him closer and closer, until his every sense was filled with you. Your taste on his tongue, your panting breath in his ears, the plush feeling of your thighs around his head. He moaned against your core.

Jun felt your high approach, maybe knew it was coming before you yourself even did, the way he could read your body in this moment, with how every fibre of his being was honed in on you and your pleasure.

“Jun, bǎobèi, I’m…”

His hand slid down to your waist, squeezing reassuringly. Jun felt you constrict around his digits, your moans growing louder and more desperate. He kept pressing his fingers into that spot that had you squeeze around him, kept his mouth sucking on your clit, humming at the flavour of you, until you peaked. You came with a cry of his name that made his chest swell with pride. Your thighs shut around his head like a vice, your hand evidently torn between wanting to pull him away and push him closer. Jun remained pressed to your core, lazily lapping at your release until your legs relaxed and he gained enough freedom of movement to lean back and search for your gaze.

Even though he had spent minutes staring at the ethereal picture of you earlier, he was still taken aback by your beauty: your hair even messier, your face blushed, your eyes glazed over in the hazy afterglow. He pressed another kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

It took you a few moments to answer him, calming your breath. A moment of which he took advantage to return to his full height, leaving kisses up your body on his way there. Once he was face to face with you, he brushed your hair out of your face, looking at you with devotion. You smiled back, softly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and immediately causing a warm shiver to run down the length of his body. There you were, in his arms, gazing at him with love, bestowing him with whatever divine favour slumbered in your presence.

You leaned in closer, letting your breath ghost over his skin for a second before whispering, “I need you.”

Jun was sure he was about to malfunction. The way his body reacted instantly, unbidden, must have been proof of your power. He couldn’t suppress the groan that rose to the surface, betraying his helplessness in the face of you. But you only smiled, sliding off the counter, tossing your bra to the side, and leaning into him.

“I know you need me too, baby,” you susurrated against the shell of his ear, your hand falling to his crotch, smoothing over the outline of his cock against his sweatpants. Jun gasped when you gave his balls a squeeze, trailing your fingers back up, pressing them into his slit, already oozing with precum and staining his pants. He felt like melting, like he was Icarus and you were the sun, with the notable exception that your radiance was warm and welcoming. It didn’t burn him, it only made him feel soft, welcome, malleable. He melted at your touch, moulded himself to the shape of you.

Although Jun felt it was very much stating the obvious, he conceded, “I want you so bad.”

You smiled, discarding your panties in a swift motion, before turning around and bending over the surface.

“Then come get me.”

He only stared, transfixed by the way your muscles moved under your skin, how the warm kitchen light of his home cascaded over you, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you turned around to smirk at him. Jun’s mind was still fighting with the fact that you were real, you were here, and you were his. You cocked an eyebrow, watching him like a cat watched its supper. When he still continued to stare, your eyes darkened, beckoning him with intensity. You wiggled your ass at him, pushing it back so it grazed his throbbing dick. As you threatened to pull away again, Jun’s hands flew to your hips. You yelped at the sudden strength with which he gripped you, pulling you back against him once more, grinding down against your ass with such verve that your head dropped forward. A long groan escaped you as Jun crowded you against the counter, pushing you down and leaning over your back.

“You need me, huh?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically while meeting his thrusts, moaning his name again and again, and growing more breathless by the second. Jun wanted to tease you, he really did. He wanted to ask you how bad you needed him. He wanted to force you to be more specific, to hear you say how you needed to feel his cock inside you, hitting that spot over and over again. He wanted to make your pretty lips form all those filthy words, say his name, beg for him. But it had been months since he had seen you in person, it felt like an eternity had passed since his skin was last allowed to touch yours, a lifetime since he heard you whimper and moan and pant for him like this. So, he forewent any more teasing. Instead, Jun simply shoved his sweatpants and underwear down his legs, freeing his cock.

You whined at the sound of it hitting his abs, wiggling your ass again and breathing out his name in that way he would never grow tired of. He grinned, sliding his dick through your slick, nipping its tip against your clit, once, twice, three times. So many times that you whimpered, an indistinguishable string of supplications, whines of baby, please please please leaving your lips. Your forehead was pressed against the counter now, as if the cold, hard surface helped ground you in reality while Jun had his way with you.

When, finally, he slipped into you, both of you sighed. You voices mixing in the air of the kitchen that seemed to have been growing thinner by the second. Jun’s breathing was growing ragged, and he could tell you weren’t faring much better than him. He started moving, slowly at first, testing the waters and, yes, possibly also to rile you up a little more. But when you clenched around him, any self-control was thrown out the window. His hands on your lower back were shoving you down against the ice-cold surface, making you hiss. His hips snapping against your ass as he searched for that spot that would make you drool over the marble countertops.

“Fuck… yes! Baby, right there,” you groaned when he found it.

Jun leaned back down over you, his front pressed against your back, his hot breath by your ear, whispered prayers of your name escaping him. He drove into that spot relentlessly, repeatedly until you lost all function of speech, reduced only to swears and his name. Jun mirrored your vocabulary, one hand sneaking around your body to find your clit again and rub punishing circles. With the added stimulation of his hand, the pressure of his weight, and the way his cock was hitting that spongy part inside you again and again, you felt your pleasure crest alarmingly fast.

“Junjunjunjunjun,” you breathed, but, again, he somehow had known before you what was coming. His groans surrounded you, your perception narrowed to just the feeling and sound of him.

“Hold on a little longer, baby,” he breathed, and you barely registered it. Just nodding for the sake of nodding, praying his own release would find him fast.

“Doing so well, baby. So good for me,” he continued, almost to himself, baiting your release even more.

A few agonising, timeless moments passed until, “That’s it, let go. Come for me, baby. Come with me.”

Immediately, you released a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper, you head falling forward again as your whole body tensed up. Jun followed your example, his head dropping against your shoulder as he drove his cock into you, prolonging both of your releases as much as possible, until the sensitivity forced him to pull out. He remained folded over you, so close that he could feel his cum drip out of you, landing on the kitchen floor with a small splat. The air felt too thin for any movement, so he remained draped over you, his thumb drew circles on your lower back until you returned to him, mumbling his name.

“Are you alright, qīn'ài de?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly, your hair sticking to the nape of your neck. Jun brushed it to the side, leaving a small peck where it had been.

“Nooo,” you whined, “I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care,” he replied, matter-of-factly, smoothing his hand down your back one last time before peeling himself off you to get some tissue. His heart tore a little at the weak whine you let out in response to his absence.

“Don’t worry, I’m just trying to take care of you.”

You only whined more when he wiped the rest of your combined release from between your legs before also cleaning the floor. He caught your eyes from over your shoulder, smiling softly, and leaving another kiss on your back. After getting rid of the tissue, he pulled you off the counter, wrapping you up in his arms.

“You were amazing. I love you.”

He could hear the smile in your voice when you replied, “So were you, bǎobèi.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here…”

“I missed you something fierce,” you said by way of explanation.

“Me too. I miss you every day. Every hour.”

To his confusion, you smiled warmly at his pout, one hand caressing along the side of his face until it came to rest on his collarbone. You leaned in, lips ghosting against his in a silent promise, “Then let’s make the most of right now.”

Jun grinned, bending down to pick you up, laughing at the surprised yelp you let out.

“What on earth are you doing, Wen Junhui!”

“I think it’s time for a bath.”

“That is not what I was trying to insinuate!”

He wiggled his eyebrows, feeling his heart sore at your scandalised expression. Resting his forehead against yours, his eyes searched for yours, holding their stare for a few moments. With a smile on his lips and in his voice he murmured, “I don’t care what exactly we do in the bath, as long as we do it together.”

[letstevengrantsleep]

Bad Girl - ft. Eddie Munson (pt.1)

older!rockstar!Eddie Munson x younger!reader

summary: you've been working on a new album so contact Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin to feature on a song

word count: 1,205

warnings: age gap (reader is 20s, Eddie is 40s/50s)

a/n: I heard Bad Girl by Avril Lavigne for the first time in absolutely forever a few days ago and I can't get the ides out of my head that Eddie would go absolutely feral if a young girl asked him to feature on that song with him. THERE WILL BE A PT.2 TO THIS!!!

masterlist

You'd messaged his agent months ago, rang his production company too, just to see if you could get a hold of him. There wasn't much hope really, you knew he was a busy guy. Corroded Coffin had just announced another tour that was starting in a few months, there was no way he'd have time to sit round and entertain a kid like you.

It was a month later when you got the call. It was his agent, frantic and exhausted on the other end of the phone telling you to expect Eddie the next day. No warning. Just like that.

-

As you open the door to your at home studio you're greeted by the Eddie Munson, smirking down at you as he licks the edge of his rolled cigarette.

"Hey doll face," he drawls, "heard you wanted to see me."

"Almost thought you were ignoring me, to be honest." You smile, letting him through and watching as he immediately makes himself comfortable on one of the cushy office chairs by your desk.

"I nearly did," he admits, "but my agent made me listen to your stuff and well..." Eddie smirks, "I'm a sucker for a girl with good taste like you. Got a song you want me on?" He asks, his gaze lingering a little too long on your figure as you walk away from him.

"Yeah," you get right to it, not wanting to waste the opportunity to have him here with you, "I'll let you read through what I've got so far.I have a vision but honestly I'm willing to edit and rewrite if it comes to it."

You pass Eddie a stack of notes and lyrics and sit back nervously as he reads through them, watching as he looks over the lyrics and raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "Hmm... you might have yourself a hit here, little rock star."

I smile bright at him and start rambling, still so unsure about sharing my work with people even after all this time. "I just wanted to get dirty with it, y'know? I'm fed up of holding back in my writing for the sake of what people might think about me."

"Well," Eddie smirks, "you've definitely done that. These lyrics... I don't think anyone's going to see you as anything other than dirty ever again."

He stands and goes to lean against the wall next to the mic, watching as I ready the equipment for his takes, trying to busy myself so that he doesn't see the blush on my cheeks. "So," I start, trying to change the subject, "I've already recorded the majority of my vocals, I just need you to jump in from the start here with that first line."

"You ready for take one?" That shit eating, signature grin on his face he secures some headphones over his ears and watches as you throw him a thumbs up, slightly distracted with all the equipment in front of you.

Nothing, nothing could have prepared you for the way your body would react to Eddie singing that first line. You set the track, clicked a few buttons, and sat back while you listened to him drawl into the mic.

Just lay your head in daddy's lap, you're a bad girl... His eyes flick to yours as he sings, a smirk on his face as he does.

After a few takes Eddie stands back and shook his head, watching as you smile at your computer screen.

"Oh, baby, you're lucky I can control myself with these lyrics." He teases, running his hand through his hair as he adjusts his headphones.

You can't help it when you burst out laughing, becoming flustered under his gaze. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Munson, you're old enough to be my dad."

"Hey," he starts, defensive, "old doesn't automatically mean that I don't look at you the same way a guy half my age would." Eddie laughs, wetting his lower lip, "I'm a rock star doll, I like young hot girls. And right now that's you."

Rolling your eyes, you raise your eyebrow at him. "Just sing, Eddie."

As the takes continue you get him to ad lib some lines between your vocals and quickly begin to loose yourself in his vocals. They're so perfect for the vision you have for this album you can't help but smile. Eddie's voice has such an edge, filled with confidence and sex, and you have a feeling that a lot of these ad libs are coming straight from his deep fantasies.

"Chills, holy shit." You smile as he finishes up the last bits of singing. "You know, once this song releases we should do it live."

"Oh you better believe we are," Eddie grins wide, "I have a very specific stage outfit in mind for this song. And it's going to be very revealing."

One wink from Eddie and you're practically on your knees.

"You'll see it at the show, yeah baby? I'll have you wondering what might happen once we're off the stage."

Fuck, okay.

You try not to let it floor you and instead roll your eyes and shove him.

"You're bad, Munson, but I totally agree. I'll have to rethink my image for this one, go for something dark to fit in with you rock stars."

This makes Eddie smile, "oh come on, bad girl. Why says you have to change to be a rock star? The rules of rock'n'roll and all that."

Agreeing with him, you sit down and wait for him to pull up a chair next to you so you can listen back to the track. Eddie has a wide smirk on his face as he listens, "fuck, doll face, I think we've fuckin' done it, yeah? You finally let your bad side out." He winks again, sliding his hand up your leg "good girl gone bad thanks to old man Munson, ey?"

Watching as he laughs, you lean back in your chair, pull your leg back and smile at him, "easy tiger, keep it in your pants yeah?"

Watching him, your breath hitches as he leans back and smirks again, "what's a little more waiting, hey baby? I'm only teasing... Just a matter of time until I really teach you how to break those good girl rules." A grin splits across his face, "I can't wait."

The song wraps itself up and before you know it, it's time for him to get going. Standing at the door with him, you speak up.

"So, I'll talk with your agent about getting me onto a Corroded Coffin gig, right?"

"Of course," he grins, "and I'll make sure we work together more in the future. Maybe even in some more... intimate environments?" He jokes, tongue in cheek as he raises his eyebrows at you.

"I'll be there, rock star." I smile back.

Eddie's lips turn up into a cocky smile as he leans back against the door frame, a light blush dusting along his cheeks and neck.

"The show? Or the intimate setting?" He asks with a wink. "I'm fine with either, or maybe both?"

I roll my eyes, "the show, pervert." You joke, "I'll see you at the show."

[ilyasorokinn]

i'm in love with you , ross macdonald

note, this is my first ever thing for ross or ever even broaching this fandom, so please be nice! i'm nice i promise! pair, ross macdonald x reader summary, y/n y/l/n and ross macdonald being in love for 10 minutes straight, or some cute moments in y/n and ross' relationship. warnings, mentions of quarantine, getting a tattoo (nothing graphic) (lmk if i missed anything) word count, 3289 words

(gif not mine)

If people knew Ross MacDonald, they knew you too. You and Ross had been together since the beginning of time, or at least long before the first album came out.

You and Ross were complete opposites which was what made you both so perfect together. Where he was quiet and a little more introverted, you were much more outgoing and extroverted. You were the golden retriever and he was the black cat.

Fans noticed the sweet moment between you, so edits were made, and of course video compilations.

Ross MacDonald and Y/N Y/L/N being in love for 10-minutes straight

The first clip was one fans knew very well. It was originally posted on Matty's Instagram and then later reposted on every 1975 fan account known to man.

You usually went to the first couple of shows with them, but due to scheduling conflicts, you couldn't make it to the first couple of shows like you normally would for the "At Their Very Best" tour.

Unbeknownst to Ross s, your schedule cleared up so you worked with the band to surprise him.

The video started and the first shot was of Ross' back as he and Matty walked down the hotel hallway toward Ross' room. The camera flipped quickly back to Matty who gave the camera an exasperated face as Ross continued to drone on about something.

"Ross, just open the door," Matty begged.

Ross raised a brow but opened the door and was greeted to balloons all over the ground before you popped up from behind the bed, "Surprise!" You shouted.

Ross stared at you trying to decipher if you were real and if you were actually there. "What?" Was all Ross said before he dropped his stuff on the ground and tackled you onto the bed and hugged you.

The short video ended right as you pulled away from the hug to cup his face and pull him in for a kiss.

The next clip was taken by a fan. It was a little grainy and the fan's hands were shaking but Ross was clearly in the shot and he could be seen looking up to the higher level of the theater up to someone.

The camera then panned up and when the camera focused, you were the person Ross was talking to from the stage. Matty was talking on stage and Ross was trying to be as inconspicuous as he could as to not draw attention up to you but it wasn't working.

You waved and he waved back discreetly. You drew a heart and blew him a kiss, laughing when he looked away, seemingly embarrassed.

"Y/N!" Matty shouted into the mic, making the crowd go wild when they realized you were there, "Stop distracting Ross!" He looked up at you on the balcony as everyone laughed.

"Sorry!" You shouted back with a laugh, waving to the crowd and blowing them a big kiss.

Something the band did before they went on stage showed what they were doing behind the scenes, leading up to them walking on stage.

So, fans went wild when everyone first showed up on the big screen, all in the green room, getting ready to head on stage. The camera panned around the room and you could feel the walls vibrate when the camera panned over to Matty.

You were listening to whatever Matty was talking about while also tying Ross' tie. You took a step back and looked at him, "Good?"

"Good." You gave him two thumbs up. You were both unaware of the camera filming you, both too stuck in your own little world. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled, leaning into his neck.

He hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist, "I'll see you out there." He pulled away, a smile on his face.

"Yeah, and if you don't, it's cause I'm getting funnel cake." You joked and he laughed, "I saw a funnel cake stand when we were walking around."

"You gonna save me some?" You nodded, "All right, I'll see you after."

"See you after." You both met halfway and kissed, "Be awesome rockstar." You pulled away and cupped his face.

No one could tell what either of you was saying, but they could tell that it was filled with love and that you both were in love. You pressed a kiss to his lips quickly before stepping away and waving.

The clip then switched over to a picture of you and Ross that you had posted. It wasn't anything special, just a sweet photo of you and Ross after an award show, looking nice and dressed up. Your arm was looped through his as you both smiled sweetly for the camera.

The photo was just something to look at while audio from a podcast you had done played in the background.

"I'm curious, and I know a lot of other people are curious too, what is it like dating a musician who is as high profile as Ross?" The host, Katya, asked.

You nodded, "It's a question I get asked often." You smiled, "But I never mind answering it and I'll answer it as honestly as I can. I don't know anything else."

"Really?" The other host, Lily asked.

"Yeah, he's my first serious boyfriend, and we've been together since, like, 2011, like a year before their first album went public. I had like middle school and high school boyfriends, but it was never as serious as it is with Ross."

"That's crazy," Lily commented.

"I know, it is. But, it really is the only thing I know. The long breaks, the tours, the getting recognized every so often." You shrugged, "But the one thing that I never take for granted is because we do long distance for such a long period of time, it just makes us cherish the time we do get to spend together."

"That's so sweet." You blushed as they both cooed.

"So, having been there since the beginning of the release process, what was that like?"

"Crazy, after Sex came out, everything went so quickly and I barely had time to comprehend. Then their first album came out and I felt like a chicken without a head for a good year after." They both laughed.

"So, they really went from being not famous and working normal jobs to almost the entire country knowing their names and their songs."

"Yeah, and it was a little scary at first, not gonna lie." You all shared a laugh, "But seeing how far they've all come, I'm proud, really. I feel like a proud mom."

"So, do you have a favorite song?" They both laughed when you gasped.

"You're trying to get me in trouble." You shook your head, "Um, not really I love them all equally."

"But off the record?"

"Off the record..." You blew out a breath, "Chocolate."

"Chocolate." You nodded.

"Good choice." Katya reached across the table and gave you a high five.

The next clip was a series of photos taken by the paparazzi. You didn't get paps taking pictures of you often, but when you did, it was usually you two together, and it was something sweet.

The first photo is of one of you two caught at dinner, sitting together. It's a real cliche. You were sitting across from each other with a candle in front of you, holdings hands from across the table and looking at each other like the other hung the moon.

The next was one that floated around Twitter for a while. It was a photo taken outside of a bar where the band was throwing an after-party after one of their shows, and you were in the middle of hopping bars when the photo was taken.

You were all waiting for Matty as you stood outside. You were wearing a tank top and had left your jacket in the car and it was cold, so Ross, being the good boyfriend, stood close to you and wrapped his jacket around you and managed to keep you warm.

The last in the dump was one even you posted. It was you and Ross at the airport. George was seen in the back, but the main focus was you and Ross.

You were walking beside him, on the opposite side of where all the cameras were. You both had sunglasses on to cover the bags from jet lag. You were carrying a small bag while Ross carried a backpack and dragged along two suitcases and if fans looked close enough, they would be able to read the luggage tags with your name on them.

The next clip was taken by a fan, again. The fan was waiting in line at a meet and greet the band was doing. The group in front of her moved and the fan who was filming walked up, handing her phone to the other person she was with.

The first person at the table was Matty. She got her CD and vinyl signed before making it to the end where Ross was, "Hi." She smiled nervously.

"Hello." He smiled, grabbing the sharpie and signing her items. As he signed her items, she pulled out a bracelet from her bag. It was a little bracelet she had made for you with your initials and a heart with cute colored beads.

He looked up from the signing when he was done, "What's that?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"I made a bracelet for Y/N." The girl answered, a smile on her face when Ross laughed.

"Did you? Oh, my." He gasped when she handed it to him, "Oh, she's gonna love it. She loves little bracelets, especially when it's homemade."

"That makes me happy." She beamed.

"Would you like a picture?"

The next photo that flashed on the screen was from your story and it was a photo of you smiling while wearing the little bracelet the fan had made you.

The caption read 'Thank you to the fan who made this for me! I love it so much and love you all!'

The photo then transitioned into a video taken by one of the cameramen who works at the concerts. it was a clip that went viral in the world of The 1975.

About You was a popular song on the album and it had gone viral so most fans knew it. Most of the time, on tour, Polly sang it, Carly sang it, and while you weren't a member of the band, you could sing.

Occasionally Ross would come home and tell you about a song they were working on and you would give your input and he would take it back to the band, so you were an unofficial member of the band.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please help me welcome a very special friend to us all, in her first live performance ever, Mrs. Ross Macdonald herself," At that, the crowd went wild, "Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You walked out onto the stage, waving to the crowd before hugging Matty and Adam.

You waved to the band, blew Polly a kiss, then met Ross halfway across the stage. You hugged and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before waving to the crowd again.

"You ready, Y/N?"

"So ready." You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. The music started. and you felt every nerve in your body go off. Ross kept glancing back at you, and when he finally caught your eye, he smiled.

You smiled back and took a deep breath. You closed your eyes as you sang the bridge, almost in your own world, "And there's something about you..."

Another video from a fan from a different angle was added. It was first on you, then moved across the stage over to Ross who was watching you, a smile on his face and what could only be described as the look of love on his face.

"...I never know what to think about." You opened your eyes and everyone went insane. You then became aware of just how many phones and cameras were pointed at you and smiled shyly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N!" Matty shouted into the microphone, making the crowd again go wild. You waved before blowing air kisses to the crowd and hugging Ross again.

"How was that?" You asked nervously.

"So good." He kissed your forehead briefly before pulling away and hugging Matty and Adam. Before leaving the stage, you blew more air kisses to George, Polly, and the band on the set's second floor.

"She's so great, isn't she?" Matty spoke into the microphone once you were off stage, and you could hear the crowd from backstage in response to his question.

The next clip was a photo and video you had posted on your Instagram. It was no secret that Ross was covered in tattoos, so after you and Ross were sure and discussed it, you decided to get matching tattoos.

It wasn't anything drastic or anything too flashy, but it was something simple you had decided on. It was just each of your initials and they were in each of your handwriting, so you wrote the first letter of his name and vice versa.

The photo was you standing side by side, your hands in the frame so it showed the initials tattooed on your hands. It was small and not really noticeable unless you really looked for it.

The photo then transitioned into a video of you and Ross getting your tattoos. You were sitting in chairs next to each other. His hand was in your lap and it was clear with the way you weren't talking and the look, you were nervous. Ross knew this, so he did his best to comfort you from the chair next to you.

"Did you know flamingos sleep standing up?" Ross asked, trying anything to keep you calm.

"Yeah." You nodded.

"Did you know that giraffe's tongues are pink?"

"Ross Macdonald, I love you, but you are stressing me out." You glared at him.

"All right, I tried." He raised his hands in surrender, "You still doing good though?" He asked.

"I'm good." You reassured, "Can we turn on some music or something?"

The comments were crazy after you posted it. They all found it cute that Ross was trying to comfort you with random animal facts and found it cute that you were getting matching tattoos of your initials.

The next was a series of videos taken by fans from the same show. You were outside in the front of the building they were performing, a big bouquet of flowers in your hands.

You were smiling and waving to fans, "Hi, oh, my goodness." You gasped, “It’s so nice to see all of you.” You stopped by the barricade of the fans and took some pictures.

A fan handed you a sharpie and you started signing things that they held out. It wasn’t anything you were used to, so it was cool.

“Wow, this is new.” You laughed, “I’ve never had people ask for my autograph.” The group of fans whose items you were signing laughed.

"Are those for Ross?" The girl next to the fan who was filming asked.

"Yeah." You admitted, and they all gasped then all cooed about how cute it was, "Most of the time, the flowers in our home are for him, not that he never gets me them, but I like getting them for him whenever I can. It's a nice surprise." You shrugged, signing your name on someone's CD cover.

"Do you listen to The 1975?" Someone shouted as security led you inside the theater.

"Of course! They're my top artist every year on Spotify!" You laughed.

During quarantine, you were locked in your house obviously, so, while locked in your home, a cat had found its way into your backyard and had taken habitat in your flower patch in the sun.

You documented the whole process of you finding it, watching it from your kitchen window, then finally taking it in.

The first photo you posted on your story was a picture you had taken from your kitchen window of the cat, who at that point was nameless. The cat was laying in your flower patch in the sun.

The caption you had put on the photo was, "My flowers may be destroyed, but we have a new friend!"

The next video from your Instagram cat story was a video of Ross walking out into your garden, in his pajamas. You both approached the cat who was now standing by a tree in your backyard.

"Here, kitty." Ross cooed softly as he approached the cat with treats in hand. You stood back a distance, filming him as the cat hissed at him, "Geez!" Ross quickly retracted his hat as the cat practically pounced toward him.

"Be careful." You called out.

"Gee, thanks." He rolled his eyes. He held his hand out carefully with the food in it. The cat looked at it before approaching him and sniffing the food.

The cat then started eating the food out of his hand and once it was all gone, looked at Ross expediently, "Well, I guess that's a good sign." Ross turned around and headed towards the house.

The cat hopped off the ledge and followed him, "Ross..." You called out in awe that the cat was following him. He turned around and saw the cat trotting along behind him.

"I guess this is a very good sign." He shrugged, opening the door to your home and letting the cat enter before he followed.

The next photo was a photo of the cat snugging in Ross' arms with the caption, "Meet Biscuit!"

The last photo of your saga was a photo of Biscuit asleep on Ross' chest, who was also asleep, on the couch with the caption "Just a boy and his father".

A fan account had posted the photos you had posted of Ross and Biscuit and photos Ross had posted of you and Biscuit with the caption, "mom and dad are officially a mom and dad".

The last video you and Ross had posted together on your Instagrams. It was only a matter of time before you got married, and when you posted your engagement photos, the fans went wild.

It was a professional-looking wedding video. It started out with you and Ross standing in your hotel rooms, getting ready. The wedding, from what fans, could tell, was small with only your close friends and family.

A soft instrumental version of Robbers played in the background as you and Ross got ready. Your dress was zipped up while he straightened out his tie.

Then you were seen walking down towards a garden towards Ross, who was standing with his back to you, and it was clear at that moment, it was a video of your first look.

You smoothed out the front of your dress before taking a breath and reaching up to tap on his shoulder. He turned around and gasped, covering his mouth in shock.

After he got over the initial shock, he immediately wrapped you in a hug as he tried to sort out his thoughts. Nothing you were saying could be heard, but 'You look fucking amazing.' could be read falling from his lips.

The rest of the video was shots of you and Ross looking more in love than anyone could've thought, but the last shot of the video was a pan out from your seats at the reception.

You were sitting side by side, watching your guests on the dance floor with your head on his shoulder and his suit jacket around your shoulders.

-

add yourself to my taglist!

[delilahcalicocat]

Can you do a drabble for Aew Cody Rhodes where reader brings her grandma out to the ring for her (grandma's) birthday and the grandma takes the mic and announces to the audience that reader likes Cody and she thinks he's very handsome 😀 and like reader is embarresed lol

Cody isn't married to Brandi in this one btw

A/N: Yes, I'm crying while writing this. Mainly because of laughter. Also sorry for the delay, I've got a big ol case of writers block regarding a fic and I was busy yesterday.

♡~That's not true!!!~♡

『Rating: Flufff』

{Warnings: Crying, Embarrassment, Kissing, Hugging, Friends-to-Lovers dynamic}

{Pairing: AEW!Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader}

you'd been working for AEW for a little while now, making friends with everyone on the roster. But for one person... you had a crush. You felt like a teen again, crushing on a boy and you'd get butterflies and run away when you saw him.

Your Mom and Other family supported you and your passion deeply, your grandma even supported you. So for her 79th birthday you wanted to let her in the ring, to sing happy birthday.

So you sang happy birthday, and you made your grandma's day.. you felt so accomplished making her smile..

But suddenly she snatched your microphone, on live tv...

"You know Y/N, I know you're very busy in life. But have you confessed your feelings to that boy you like yet?" The sweet old lady asked

Your face was beet red, you felt so embarrassed at what your grandma started talking about

You sighed and took back the microphone.

"No, Grandma.. It's too complicated to talk about here. I'll tell you about it later." You Said

"What was that boys name again? I think it was Cody something...." your grandma spoke into the Mic.

You went as red as a tomato.. blush and warmth spread across your cheeks..

"That's not true!" You lied

Your grandma instantly proved you wrong.

You were so embarrassed after your segment. Your mom was on the road with your grandma already and you sat in your locker room in embarrassment.

"Why Did my grandma have to say that on live TV?" You questioned the air around you.

You remember the cheers from the crowd, and them saying "Cody! CODY!". You physically couldn't face anyone else on the roster right now.

Suddenly you heard a knock at the door.

"Go away Chuck." You said, thinking the person at the door was your brother.

"It's not Chuck... It's Cody..." Cody said

"What do you what?" You said

"Can.. I... Come in?" Cody asked

"Go ahead. I'm sure my night can't get worse." You sighed.

Cody swiftly opened the door and walked into your locker room, sitting across from you on the other side of the room.

You quickly wiped away any stray tears that may have been on your face..

"What do you want? Why did you come to talk?" You spoke.

"Listen, Y/N... I saw what happened earlier tonight.. between you & your grandma.."

"Yes, And?"

"I should've told you sooner, but I feel the same way towards you... I probably turned red when your grandma revealed that-"

You and Cody went back and forth and Cody confessed... you looked in shock... like a deer in headlights...

Suddenly you both locked eyes with each other... Cody was about to speak but you kissed him. You both broke the kiss after a few moments and you ended up in a bear hug....

That night, you'd felt like you went through multiple stages of grief somehow-...

But you didn't care, you sorta won over your crush...

But Still, the next day you asked Cody if he'd edit the confession clip out of that dynamite replay.

[slickbackdani]

The 15 Worst Lines in ERB

It's no secret that I'm a huge fan of Epic Rap Battles of History. It always has been and always will be one of my favorite shows on the web. That said, I'm not such a blinded fanatic as to pretend that it's perfect. There are plenty of episodes that I didn't enjoy, and even episodes I absolutely adore aren't immune to the occasional bad line here and there.

So, I thought I'd get it out of my system and count off my 15 least favorite lines in Epic Rap Battles of History's… well, history. For this list, I'll keep things brief by only mentioning one line per battle; this will prevent my least-favorite episodes from hogging too many spaces on the list and allow me to more freely critique the show as a whole.

If you do like any of the lines I mention, that's great. More power to you. They're just not for me. And if there are any bad lines you think I missed, feel free to let me know.

15: "One hand on my mic, one hand on my groin." — Richard Pryor

I strongly enjoyed "George Carlin vs Richard Pryor" on the whole. It didn't have the hardest-hitting disses, but it featured solid performances that highlighted why the featured comedians left the impact they left… but good lord, I can't pretend Richard Pryor didn't get absolutely shafted in terms of lyrics. His verse was disappointingly short, and while he had some clever rhymes, this line in particular sticks out as filler. It's not a boast, it's not a diss, it's not even a clever play on words. It's just him mentioning his junk for no reason. We'll get to worse lyrics later on down the list, but I figured this is a decent place to start. Speaking of filler…

14: "You don't seem like the type who's keen on neck-washes." — Count Dracula

"Vlad the Impaler vs Count Dracula" is one of the most infamously one-sided battles in the show's history, and that's largely because of Peter's abysmal performance as Dracula. Most of his lines are just corny jokes about vampire lore with very few actual attempts to diss his opponent. It wasn't easy singling out his worst lyric, but I decided on the closing line of his first verse because of how anticlimactic it was even by the low standards Drac set with the rest of the preceding verse. Seriously, dude? That's how you end your verse? By saying your opponent's neck is dirty? Come the fuck on! And are neck-washes even a thing, anyway? Like, are they a common enough trend to be worth devoting an entire line to acknowledging their existence? UGH!

13: "For now, just stick to editing that gay-ass Monday Show." — EpicLloyd

"NicePeter vs EpicLloyd" wasn't a bad episode for its time. As far as season finales go, having your first one be between the show's creators is delightfully meta and adds a sense of finality to the proceedings. That said, the battle hasn't aged very well — both because future episodes would just be better as Peter and Lloyd gained more experience, and because of the casual homophobia Lloyd engages in at the start. I get that 2011 was a different time and acceptance of LGBT rights wouldn't become more normalized until a year or two later, but to hear "gay" used as an insult by someone who would later speak out against homophobia is just jarring and a reminder that most aspects of early Internet humor are best left forgotten.

12. "When midgets step up, I stomp midget asses!" — Randy Savage

"Hulk Hogan vs Kim Jong-Il" is the very definition of a battle that's aged poorly. This is for several reasons — the lack of connection between the battlers, Hulk Hogan's real-life controversies making it harder to see him as the hero this episode portrays him as, Kim Jong-Il dying shortly after the episode's premiere and being forgotten by the world as his successor proved to be even crazier than him, and of course, Hulk Hogan tagging in Randy Savage to finish the battle for him. At the time the episode debuted, this was a huge thing; third-party interruptions like this were unprecedented in the show (it WAS only the fifth episode) and were an early signal of the unique twists and turns the show could take. However, the passage of time and the show's gradual increase in quality make it harder to look back fondly on this episode because future battles did this gimmick better. Once you get over the shock of Randy Savage's appearance, it becomes hard to appreciate his verse because he doesn't actually say anything. It should not have been difficult to come up with disses for such an infamous dictator, but Randy's verse is just cluttered with filler lines — and the few times he can actually be bothered to diss his opponent come up short. His human rights atrocities are glossed over with one line about Kim not feeding his people, and the rest are just making fun of his appearance. I went with that line because it not only sums up the disappointing nature of Randy's verse but also contains language that is very much not acceptable in modern society.

11: "I made a map, motherfucker, and I'm reading it, too / Gives me specific directions how to fuck with you!" — Eve

I'm probably not breaking any new ground by saying that "Adam vs Eve" is one of the worst episodes on the show. The entire battle is just a string of hackneyed gender stereotypes and cliched "sitcom married couple" jokes we've all heard a million times before. Adam is a lazy, perverted, unhygienic slob who's obsessed with sports and beer, and Eve is a hard-to-please nag who gets cranky on her period and spends too much money on cosmetics. I chose this line in particular because what the fuck does map-making have to do with the story of Adam and Eve? Is it a joke about the stereotype of men not asking for directions? If so, then it's not only just another lame gag about gender stereotypes, but it's worded too abstractly to have any punch or meaning behind it.

10: "The Great Wall couldn't keep you out of China!" — The Easter Bunny

"Genghis Khan vs The Easter Bunny" is one of the least popular episodes of the show, and understandably so. The two combatants have nothing in common with one another; it's little more than a "lol-so-random" shitpost. General consensus is that the Easter Bunny stood absolutely no chance against his opponent, and this line highlights why. Because it's a complete failure to diss the other side! Seriously, how is "The largest manmade structure in the world was ineffective at stopping you from invading" an insult to someone who clearly prides himself as a warlord? An Eminem quote would be apt: "You just dissed me? I'm perplexed / Insult me on a line, compliment me on the next?"

09: "I left JK straight Rowling in cash!" — Harry Potter

"Harry Potter vs Luke Skywalker" was a great episode on the whole. It may not be finale-worthy, but had some great rhymes, great performances, and great animation. That said, it baffles me why they would have Harry brag about how much money he made JK Rowling when the battle was released the same year Rowling decided to make violent transphobia her entire personality. "I'm the reason this heartless reactionary bigot is as powerful and influential as she is" ain't something to brag about.

08: "I wear a blackbelt on the beard that I grow on my dick!" — Chuck Norris

"Abraham Lincoln vs Chuck Norris" is another shitpost episode from the early days before the show hit its stride, and while Peter turned in an iconic performance as Honest Abe, he was absolutely wasted here. It's bad enough that he was paired up with an opponent who has fuck all in common with him (aside from being a Republican with a beard), but the show makes no mention of Chuck Norris' most infamous real-life flaws, instead just portraying him as a godlike entity of manly coolness to the point where almost all of his lines are those lame "Chuck Norris Facts" memes that were already getting played out by the episode's release in December 2010. I chose this line in particular because it makes no sense as a boast! The rest of Norris' lines were dumb and annoying, but they at least made sense — he was bragging about being such a badass god-among-men that his talents defy the laws of reality, but this? This is just mentioning his pubic hair (thanks for the mental image, BTW 🤮) while vaguely alluding to him being a martial artist. It's not impressive. It's not clever. It's just juvenile.

07: "Oh, hi, I'm the cool but rude guy!" — Raphael

"Artists vs TMNT" was an interesting concept for a battle. Two teams of four going at it? And in the season finale, no less? Sounds great! In practice, however, it came up short; the Renaissance artists had a strong opening verse with clever lines and charming deliveries that played off one another very well. The Ninja Turtles' verse wound up being a letdown since they barely got half as many lines as their opponents and tried to cram in too much in too little time. I had a hard time choosing between this line and Donnie's because of how out-of-character it is for him (whose bright idea was it to have the team genius' only solo dialogue be to say he knows nothing about his opponents?) but I went with Raph's because of how clunky and awkward it is. Just hearing him waste a line telling us his character archetype instead of actually showing it via dialogue and body language is just groan-worthy. Quoth the Robot Devil, "You can't just have your characters announce how they feel! THAT MAKES ME FEEL ANGRY!"

06: "I can #HandleIt!" — Miley Cyrus

"Miley Cyrus vs Joan of Arc" is one of my least-favorite episodes of the series. A figure as iconic as Joan did not deserve to be wasted just so Peter and Lloyd could cash in on the manufactured media outrage around Miley Cyrus' then-new "hypersexual drug-fueled fake gangsta/raver" persona that people were already getting sick of hearing about by the time the episode was made. This is the only line in the battle that I remembered, and that's only because of how much it pissed me off. Just. She turns two random words into a hashtag for no reason. WHY? There's no point to it. There's no clever wordplay or attempt at a diss. It's just a cringey "How do you do, fellow kids" moment.

05: "What's the Fawkes say now? / (Yap-yap-yap-yap-yap) When they cut your junk out!" — Che Guevara (and Guy Fawkes)

"Guy Fawkes vs Che Guevara" was a decent episode on the whole, but ye Gods, we DID NOT NEED THIS LINE. What possessed Peter and Lloyd to think it would be a good idea to grind the battle to a screeching halt just for this out-of-nowhere reference to a six-year-old meme that was never that popular even back when it was relevant?!? What's worse is how Guy Fawkes plays along with it as Che awkwardly segues into alluding to how Fawkes was killed. Why is Guy Fawkes actively contributing to a verse that is explicitly insulting him? NONE OF THIS MAKES SENSE!!!

04: "You are JD Vance's beard-level weird; you are gross!" — Kamala Harris

I usually enjoy election battles, but "Donald Trump vs Kamala Harris" was a major letdown for me. That largely hinged on Harris performance; I don't know why, but the way she's portrayed here is just too juvenile — from her her flighty and wishy-washy delivery to the battle just deteriorating into her and Trump childishly bickering with one another in a tired rehash of the 2012 election battle, and even before that a few of her lines were just witless schoolyard taunts. I had a hard time choosing between this line and "You ketchup-smelling edgelord", but I went with this one because of the wasted opportunity. Of all the NUMEROUS things you could make fun of JD Vance for, why settle for THAT? If anything, his beard is the LEAST weird thing about him!

03: "You got too woke to be fun" — Indiana Jones

"Lara Croft vs Indiana Jones" was a great battle overall, but I can't stand how Indy wasted his first four lines on petulantly whining about Lara not being sexy enough anymore. I get that Indy's treatment of women is a bit questionable to modern viewers, but he was never THIS immature about it! If you want to highlight the generational gap between Indy and Lara's audiences, there are better ways of doing it than portraying the iconic movie hero as a YouTube outrage grifter pandering to an audience of basement-dwelling GamerGate spawn.

02: "Laying you down easy, that's kitchen tile!" — Caitlyn Jenner

"Bruce Banner vs Caitlyn Jenner" is a deeply vexing battle for a number of reasons. I'm glad Peter and Lloyd wanted to show their support for the LGBT community, but they didn't have to do it by — to quote my friend @wonderfulworldofmichaelford — "trying to force a win for the first trans character by handicapping her opponent and ignoring her flaws". Jenner is put on a pedestal with all of her most infamous controversies never mentioned, and her final verse is over five times longer than the Hulk's — and I chose this line in particular to highlight just how wasteful that decision was. It's just a reference to a basic thing that has nothing to do with either combatant, it's not clever, it's not witty, it's not scathing as an insult, it just makes you wonder why they gave Jenner such a long last verse if she was only going to make it out of more fluff and filler than a Twinkie.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

- Justin Bieber's "You smell like Betty White!" Childish name-calling with no wit or substance, just epitomizing the episode's portrayal of him as a one-note prepubescent brat. Just because you're being deliberately obnoxious doesn't make it any less obnoxious!

- Sarah Palin's "Your voice sounds like a rooster having sex with a frog!" More schoolyard name-calling, except it's especially egregious here because where the fuck does Sarah Palin get off saying someone else has an annoying voice when she's the one whose shrill, nasal screeching made viewers' ears bleed throughout the episode!

- Jack the Ripper trying to rhyme "locked door" with "got caught." Sorry, Dan Bull, I love ya, but some rhymes just can't be made.

- King Kong randomly farting in the middle of a verse. I don't know if it's a reference to anything, but even if it was, was it really worth interrupting an otherwise solid battle for that bit of juvenile grossness?

Now for the worst of the worst.

01: "Nice hat, dork! You look like a duck!" — Batman

"Batman vs Sherlock Holmes" is another infamous battle among fans, and for an understandable reason: its terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad portrayal of Batman. It would be disappointing enough that they would base their Batman exclusively on how he appeared in the Nolan trilogy when he has such a long and vibrant history outside of those films (that had already been parodied to hell and back by the time this episode was made), but the fact that they went out of their way to specifically portray this iconic superhero known for his genius-level intellect as a crass, boorish, mindlessly aggressive manchild defies all logic! You'd think they'd pull out all the stops to give such an iconic character his proper due, but no! All his lines are either basic, generic lines that anybody could have said, or at worst are more schoolyard name-calling! The line I chose is justvthe first example of the latter, and it sets the stage for what we can expect from him. ("You chump, I kick punks like you off the streets!" "Shut up, nerds! I serve justice, so eat it!") EpicLloyd said it best in the season 5 finale: "Dude, that is not a cool way to play Batman!"

[the-one-who-lambs]

Things I wanna do in 2025:

Finish The Risen Lamb and the Fallen God's big ol rewrite (probably will finish in summer). Also grabbing the link for this made me see that I just surpassed 15,000 reads on it, thanks so much!!

Finish all the current drawing wips I have!

Write the rest of that goddamn smut fic I'm like 4 or 5 paragraphs into that I started 2 months ago and immediately decided I wasn't in a E-rated fic writing mood

Bind my own fics-- but actually do it instead of just collecting resources about it lol. I'm gonna do a test run first with some oneshots and make a smaller book. I'll probably bind The Care and Keeping of Eldritch Gods, and later, Risen/Fallen when I finish it. (On that note-- which oneshots should I bind in my "test run" book? Help me decide, if you wanna!)

Make a second Narinder plushie because my first boy's so beat up. If I can, I'd like to include his Eldritch form's "face flaps" with velcro or something that can open and close!

Write even more oneshots and poems. And potentially take suggestions from y'all when I do.

Get a bit better at being able to talk on stream! Sometimes it still feels a little bit unnatural, but I want to improve being able to talk on mic when I'm not on call with others during a stream.

Oh, right, I'm gonna have to update that one fic on April fool's day, huh. Update that, lmao.

AJ just entered my room to shake a container of heavy cream at me because they're making homemade honey butter. Just thought y'all should know.

Since I already have a habit of writing pretty consistently, learning to be more confident and not stress myself out when I don't write for a day or two or haven't updated in a while, because good things take time. (Still, trying to be creative in some capacity nearly every day like I do already, since that's how I maintain my sanity)

EDIT: oh, and make a podfic of The Risen Lamb and the Fallen God! I'll try to do that in January!

[cadybear420]

Cadybear's MC Wardrobes: Alan Parke, OG HSS Book 3. Featuring some edits by me!

How this series goes: With each book, for a MC I'm invested in, I'll assess each of their in-game outfits. How much do I like or dislike the outfit? Is this something that suits my MC's style, or does it make me go "My MC would NOT wear/own this"? And for the outfits that my MC would not wear or own, how would I alter or replace them? I'm not going to use screenshots from the actual game because I can't be arsed. Also I want to use the different sprite expressions to express how my MC would feel about each outfit.

I like to think this is a good opportunity to elaborate on my MCs' dress styles, and show off some edits :D

Now let's finish off the trilogy for Alan Parke!

Directory for the other parts will be included in the reblogs after I've completed the posts for all books!

Ch 1: "All-American Boy" and "Spring Fever" Premium Starter Outfits

They're alright, but they both look so plain in comparison to the f!MC options. Especially the first one. The second one I think Alan would kind of like, but mainly if the shorts were shorter.

Verdict: Only the second outfit is in Alan's wardrobe, and only partly. Alter by making the shorts shorter. But also replace entirely, and use a different outfit as his official spring casual outfit.

Here's the outfit more in his style, plus him in the f!MC options "Not-So-Cold Shoulder" and "Spring Fling" respectively. I feel like he'd prefer the "Not-So-Cold Shoulder" one as his casual outfit.

Though I do also think he'd like the pink "Party On" outfit from Payton's party as a spring casual outfit. So that will probably be his official one. IDK for sure, honestly.

Ch 1/2: "Tour Guide Extraordinaire" Premium Outfit

Bruhhhhhh this does not look like a tour guide outfit!!! The "Spring Fever" outfit looks more like a tour guide outfit tbh, it even has a similar color scheme to the f!MC's outfit!

And even that aside, the outfit itself is just... not visually appealing. It looks too busy. Though I do like that the blazer and pants match Emma's spring outfit color scheme... but that's about it, and even then I don't think it's really worth it.

Verdict: Alan would NOT own this. Replace entirely. Maybe keep the blazer and pants for a different outfit.

Alan would much prefer the altered version of the "Spring Fever" outfit for being a tour guide.

BONUS ROUND: Ch 3: Baseball Uniform

Not his favorite style, but he'd work the look.

Verdict: Technically not in Alan's wardrobe because you have to return uniforms, but he'd enjoy wearing it. Keep it as is.

Ch 4: "Beach Bro" Premium Outfit for the Mitchell's Beach Party

Not bad, I think he’d really like the colors and pattern of the shirt. I also kind of prefer this as the casual outfit for him to wear during the playthrough, than the Spring Fever outfit (but not as his official spring casual outfit, of course).

But obviously, he'd far prefer the f!MC's outfit. This outfit isn’t near the levels of bland as a lot of these other m!MC special outfits, but I still don’t think it’s really something that would grab people’s attention at a party. At the very most, it just fits the beach vibe and has a nice pattern, and that's it.

Verdict: Alan would only partly own this. Keep the shirt for future potential outfits, but ditch the shorts, and replace entirely for the beach party.

Here's what he'd prefer to wear.

Ch 7: "Tight Knit" Premium Outfit for Open Mic Night at the restaurant

It's not bad... the cardigan is actually kind of cute, and the overall color scheme does look nice on him. But it doesn't really stand out that much otherwise, and it's definitely not Alan's taste.

Verdict: Alan would only partially own this. Keep the cardigan, possibly for future outfits, but ditch the rest, and replace entirely for the event.

I feel like he might wear the "Spring Fling" outfit for this event. It's a neat-looking outfit. I'm not fully sure though... might have to return to this later.

BONUS ROUND: Ch 11: Band Concert Outfit

Looks pretty good, but I think he'd far prefer the shorter sleeve one that the ladies wear.

Verdict: Only partly in Alan's wardrobe. Alter by shortening the sleeves.

Here's what he'd prefer to wear.

I should also mention that while I do have a band!Evie AU, I don't think I'll have a band!Alan or jock!Alan AU. Or I might have a band!Alan AU, but it probably would only take place over Book 1 because he’d only really do colorguard, unless they have room for some singing roles in concert band but IDK. I don't think Alan would have a lot of skill in playing any musical instruments. I'll put him in the colorguard in the bonus rounds.

Ch 12: "Blackout", "Flower Power", and "True Blue" Prom Outfits

Clearly the flower-pattern suit is meant to be the more "fem" option for male MC, as the tux was the more masc option for f!MC. I like it, but I don't see why they couldn't have had a dress option. Or better yet, why PB doesn't have dress options for m!characters more often. HWU had a dress option for male characters. Y'all could have expanded from that.

That being said, Alan would still adore that flower suit, especially if he wore it with some glittery spindly red high heels because that would be such a cunty power look.

Verdict: Only the second one would be in Alan’s wardrobe. Keep that one as it is.

Of course, Alan would still love a dress. And he’d definitely love the premium dress from the f!MC’s options, especially with the single shoulder strap and ESPECIALLY with the leg slit. So here’s him in the dress, plus a red one to more closely follow the suits colors.

And now I can't decide which one I like best as his prom outfit. Yaaayyyy

Ch 16: "Always a Tiger" Premium Finale Outfit (and carries over to HSS:CA as MC's default outfit for that trilogy if purchased)

Not bad, he’d definitely love that jacket. But preferably over his cheer uniform, rather than cargo pants.

Verdict: Only partly in Alan's wardrobe. Ditch the cargo pants, and replace with cheer uniform underneath.

Here's how it would actually look. I think Alan would likely wear this as a casual outfit for HSS:CA. But honestly I'm still figuring out what his storyline in the CA timeline would be like. I haven't even fully figured out Evie's HSS:CA rewrite/storyline. But as I do, I will be coming up with a new set of outfits for Alan in that timeline. We'll see.

[blogofloathing]

Parts 1 of 1, Gillian B And The Unruly Interviewee

After a less than polished bus ride we arrived to the equally less than polished slums of Porkham,

I'd say it looked better in my day, except I wouldn't know, I grew up in a more respectable area.

Adjusting my trusty driving cap, spiffy bow tie, and affirming these good looks with my crew.

we set off, according to my media guy fishing is popular this time of year, so why not cash in?

Being careful to avoid nails and trash (human or otherwise) on our meandering way to the bridge,

wherein todays interviewee was apparently living.

In my opinion he should just get a job and maybe contribute to society? But that's not "kind" or "empathetic" according to my trusty cameramen.

Stepping into the clearing we see exactly what I had feared, I was hoping we had bad intel.

Yet lo and behold, a stubble ridden homeless sat adjacent to us, probably high out of his mind.

"Mm.. oh! Hey! Yall are here for the interview?" He shouted over to us, well, to say he raised his voice would be a lie, but that was certainly the intent.

Our cameras focused shakily on the dirty hobo we have unfortunately decided to question today.

My mic man stood just a bit too close, so that every word spoken slightly blasted the audio.

I'm sure someone can make it sound good later,

"we are go in 3, 2.." holding up one finger for the last call, before miming an inaudible "go".

And giving our cameras the signal to proceed, they ask him the first of many questions.

"Mm'well when you're fishing in sketchy spots ya gotta specialize" he mumbled, gesturing to the tackle box, though it's more of a tackle lunch box

The camera zooms in as he pulls out a wriggling gummy worm, sugar dusting its exterior.

Christ how on earth is that thing moving, "mm them gummy worms grow near rivers"

"Makes em self supplyin" he walks us through, as our whole team takes a step or two back.

"Mm I think somea them barbecue fellas put somethin in the water over there.."

Glancing over to the stream, which looked more like a pot of soup full of garbage than a river.

Maybe interviewing this gross hobo was a mistake. Certainly I'll be taking a bath after this,

But for the sake of journalism, we let him go on

"Makes so they're good for catchin them colorful fishies, f'miliar sight for em" indeed the worm was bedazzled in a rainbow of striped colors

Enough to make my head hurt just looking at it.

Though none of my crew has ever heard of any kinda rainbow fish, probably some new drug the homeless are taking, and we wonder why the city is trying to stamp out these kinds of people!

"Mm'infact I got onea them on my line right now,"

our cameraman panning quickly over to the hobos fishing pole, propped up against some rocks.

The line was limp for the time being, that is to say if it would ever actually be pulled by something other than garbage, (excluding the man himself.)

Christ thank god we're not live right now, we can have whatever-his-name-is edit that out later

"Mm, oh! An' here's some more from my stash" he pipes up with subdued surprise, a fuzzy worm covered in spines was crawling up his arm, "they're s'posed to be poisonous but I f'gure you let em do what they do, they go fine"

"These are good for catchin them walkin fishies, mm'paralyzes their muscles," he explained, flexing his fingers loosely before constricting them tightly

Then sighing with a noticeably disappointed tone, "people are way too hesitant 'bout fish legs, I tell em they're just like frog legs, but I guess they don't much like those neither.."

Personally I can't see a world where I or anyone on my team eats that, but of course let's remember they're not like you and me.

"ahh here's one'a my favorites," he grunts, pulling out a large bag full of sickly bright red worms.

"Onea them groups of chemical guys dyed some kids hair in the river and plumb contaminated this whole bag," shaking them in our face

And sure enough there could be faint spots of pink vaguely seen under the thick scarlet glaze.

"Mm'but whatever's in em makes the fishies go all crazy," he explains, shaking his hands wildly in the air to demonstrate this apparent frenzy.

"They dye your tongue red for a good while when ya eat em though, mm'sooo if that ain't your style I can't sell ya on em" placing it back down where it immediately stained the ground scarlet.

I'm forced at this point to give my team a glare of disapproval, some of them seeming far too genuinely interested in what this hobo had to say.

They look sheepish for a moment at my face, but then continue looking past me at him.

Really I don't see what use there is in listening to stuff like this, I'm only here for content.

"Mm'I don't know how I hook thesen's but I do an' they fetch pretty good" he mumbles tacitly.

Holding up what appeared to be a pile of loose integers in vaguely the shape of a squiggly line.

Wriggling and moving in a way that didn't account for any sort of connections or reason.

My whole team taken aback at once says "what on earth??" quietly in united confusion. Before then looking at each other in mirrored disbelief.

despite having no possible way to crawl the way it does, making a gentle journey along his arm.

Coming to a rest at his shoulder where he picks it up, somehow, "mm'I expect this's due to runoff from the math guys dumpin their old equations in the water" expecting us to understand any of that.

"But them educated fishies really love em, maybe they're tryna solve em or somethin" he says with a reverent little chuckle, though it's more of a cough.

The unsightly man continues excitedly showing us various worms, giving exaggerated and showy gestures for each presentation.

As if his hands are the actual ones being asked.

"Don't even get me started on them spider worms! Haha, mm'just kiddin, please do"

I'm positively sick with boredom but I have been forced by my team not to leave.

Until thankfully, salvation arrives at last when he appears to reach the end of his last show & tell.

Putting various worms(?) Back into containers, and a quick check to the continuously light line.

"Well thank yall kindly for- Vic! Vic get on over here I'm gonna be on the television!" He shouted suddenly, eyeing an unseen figure behind us.

My heart sank sickeningly, he was right about to bid us a good day, we were so damn close! And..

A possibly even dustier hobo, girl? Waltzes over to us, Jesus Christ it just keeps getting worse.

"Yo! Walt! You're famous eh? Gettin the big bucks?" the two laugh heartily, "see I told ya you're fishin would take off you old sot" she teased loudly.

They chit chat for a beat, with me continuing to shuffle backwards, much to my crews chagrin.

I'm silently begging my cameras to let me leave with my wallet intact before it catches sight of me

The urgent tugs at my boom operators sleeve going unnoticed save for a bemused look.

"Hey! Wanna ask me some stuff! Give me some free stuff?" She bursts into my world unwelcome.

Seemingly moved on from the dirty man, onto me.

For a moment I try to pretend as if not having noticed her, but fate did not hold the cards for me.

"Cmonnnn I know you're one of them big shots you got cash" her bushy eyebrows turned at an almost impossible angle, no wonder she looked mannish.

Signing didn't seem to work, as expected with the uneducated, but even my perfectly clear refusal to answer was left disregarded by this girl.

"Psh, figures you uppercrusts think you're too good to talk to me" she sneered derisively.

I tentatively waved to one of my crewman, whom seemed wholly preoccupied with the fisherman,

The shows over! What is there to talk about? My pleas yielded no results, I was fully on my own.

"What's with ya? You talk?" Her intense eyes bore holes into my own, attempting to take a look behind them in a quite uninvited intrusion.

Ugh these types are always so pushy, I swear I don't know why I agreed to do this.

As she pressed her face more closely to mine I could feel her gross, warm breath

Like the smog of a smokestack, clinging to my skin and hair in a sickeningly sticky way

"Hellooooo is anybody home Mr Rich?" Her words poked, knocking the glass of a terrarium to make me dance, managing only to startle me further

My discomfort is reaching its peak and I'm nearly made to give the emergency sign to my crew,

When the hobo girl reaches her hand out to touch me again, my skin prickling in irid anticipation.

And Inexplicable even to myself, a tear sparkled dully in my eyes, which were presently pressed together, as if I'd disappear if I couldn't see her.

This would surely be the end of my career, she would know.. I could feel everyone's eyes on me

And indeed the look on her face told me the gears were turning, some remnant of social awareness ticked around echoey in her hollow dome.

Gillian Barlows A Sissy surely what the headline would read, they'd be right, and that would be it.

These newspaper ghosts flapped hauntingly in my head like a flock of my worst anxieties.

Of circling vultures primed to take a strike at me any moment, the wilting journey of my egos end.

Before my cameraman, who must have finally noticed my situation, stepped between us.

Reforming the barrier I had been trying to keep hold of, that this girl had ripped it up.

"I'm sorry ma'am but you're gonna have to step back" a stern but not unkind order, his voice soothingly final, as if he was just stating the facts.

Equally putting to rest my growing discontent, "eh? Awww cmon you interviewed Wal-" she started, wildly gesturing In the other hobos direction.

"Ma'am we have a very concise schedule, and please refrain from touching our host." He retorted firmly, the rest of my crew standing nearby as well.

His hand nested on my shoulder as he said it

The lot of them were towers of men, acting as body guard and camera crew in unison

Pillars of my kingdom who kept the gates guarded

Standing (in no uncertain terms) a harsh contrast to my otherwise quite stubby figure.

We shared a quick look, his half smirk telling me don't worry, I've got you, as he continued the contentious chat with this random girl.

"Well- ugh fine! Take your chintzy camera cats somewhere else!" She expleted, giving our cameras a rude hand gesture before storming off.

"I'm too good for your lil TV shit anyway, hacks!"

Kicking a can into the lake that had been in her way, though I didn't hear the sound it made.

My ears were still plugged shut by the awful dripping fear that enveloped me at the ordeal,

I couldn't let someone see me like that, least of all someone like her, this was a mistake.

Breathing growing heavier, and knees weaker, the weight of this pressure primed to knock me over.

This is stupid, getting so worked up over someone like her, but despite all principles, the gnawing feeling in my gut was unwilling to accept reality.

I felt floaty and tingly, like I was on the brink of a faint, of losing my balance completely and falling..

Right into the strong arms of my cameraman, who had already set the camera down a ways away.

"Were you still rolling? Did you get it?" I whispered in a strained voice, almost inaudibly.

He shushed me, carrying me over to the rest of my crew, setting me down easy next to them.

I felt so comfortable being held by him, like he always knew exactly where he was going.

"Hey boss! We's were talking to the fisherman, and he gave us some fish on the house!"

My mic operator excitedly informed me, holding up a shockingly good looking salmon.

The man had been teaching us how to identify a real good salmon and well, there it is

Its tail fins were pronounced without being floppy, and the scales shone like glass or crystal.

My expression evidently spoke volumes how did he catch that "guess he had some right ideas"

Smirked my mic man, inviting an exaggerated eye roll from me, though I couldn't help but agree.

"Anywho! Let's get a move on Gill!" he sprang matter o factly, also springing me onto my feet.

"here G" my other cameraman said, his chill demeanor contrasting so that it made me giggle.

Waving to the whole crew, who all took me up into their arms in turn, lifting me almost effortlessly.

Linking together to create a proper seat for me to rest in, even if I did feel a little silly.

A mobile throne of sorts, to lead the charge.

"What say we all go for drinks?" My mic man suggested, looking around at the rest of us.

Who all nodded in approval "then let us go!" My cameraman said resolutely,

I signed a clumsy "but what about the interview?"

"we can edit the footage later" he spoke directly to me "let's go have some fun"

These affirmations, bringing back to life a smile, informing my unending confidence around them.

I didn't say anything, but I pointed forward in a mock gesture of commencement.

Each member of my crew pointing in turn, as I lead the group, captain at the helm.

Maybe they were right, I could use a bit of a wind down more often to cool the nerves.

As long as it means more time spent with these idiots, I could see.. some time off.

"To TV! To Drinks! To Gillian!!" The whole gaggle chanted, yelling my name with especial vigor.

[cerealandchoccymilk]

Trigun Bookclub: Trigun Vol.1, Chapter #07 (Part 1)

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I’m doing a deep-read of the Japanese original print (reread) and Overhaul 1.0 (first read) side-by-side, and writing down everything I notice from small details, version differences, translation differences, etc.

This one's divided into two parts since it surpassed the desktop image limit of 30. whoops

As always, here are the lovely non-analysis panels:

(and a margin doodle)

And the rest is under the cut.

[link for if the images aren’t in horizontal rows]

The units here are "iles" per hour. They are similar but slightly different from real-life imperial miles. Nightow released unit conversions for them at one point, but I can't remember the numbers... they're probably somewhere in my Twitter bookmarks so I'll post them (and probably edit this entry) when I find them. Other notes on exact phrasing in the Japanese version, just for reference: The counting up is just "2...6...8..." instead of saying the full number, and the time is just "12 minutes left."

The "point of no return" had a ruby pronunciation note saying "deadline" in katakana.

Love the hilariously suspicious squeaking and the 5 different angles of the cart lmao

The canisters were a decoy. I wonder if Vash emptied the contents or just found unused ones lying around? (I don't know enough about this stuff... lol)

Man landed a perfect frontflip!! (not a backflip, I gotta fix that later) I really like this ending panel... Vash doesn't even need to do anything else, the BL gang member just knows he can't win.

He confiscated (at least) 2 of the guns from that.

Kaito's really accustomed to the machinery here. And Vash is just fucking around and finding out.

I want to see the full image of this doodle... There's a ② and some arrows by the thumbs-down; is he supposed to be doing the throat-cut gesture before that?

This scene is where Vash gives Kaito the pen mic. Maybe "don't sweat all the tiny details" is also directed towards the audience? I mentioned this in Chapter #05, but Vash's true identity still hasn't been revealed yet. It's as much a mystery why he has that kind of tech to first-time readers as it is to Kaito.

When he steps out the door, it looks like he now has only 1 of the 2 guns he confiscated from the members he defeated, and in the next moment that's gone too.

Continued onto Part 2!

The Japanese annotations are reblogged from this post. (There are less than 30 of those, so they will all be in one reblog.)

[dustedmagazine]

Listening Post:  John Coltrane/Eric Dolphy’s Evenings at the Village Gate

In 1961, John Coltrane was reaching a wider audience via his edited single version of the Sound of Music classic "My Favorite Things.”  He was also, although it seems trite to say given the trajectory of his career, in a state of transition. Moving away from his "sheets of sound" period to exploring modality, non-western scales and polyrhythms which allowed him to improvise more deeply within the constraints of more familiar Jazz tropes.

His personal and musical relationship with Eric Dolphy was an important catalyst for the development of his sound. Dolphy was an important presence on Coltrane's other key album from 1961, Africa/Brass and here officially joins the quartet on alto, bass clarinet and flute. Evenings at the Village Gate was recorded towards the end of a month-long residency with a core band of Coltrane, Dolphy, Jones, McCoy Tyner on piano and Reggie Workman on bass. The other musician featured here, on "Africa,” is bassist Art Davis.

The recording captures the band moving towards the more incandescent sound that made Live at the Village Vanguard, recorded just a few weeks later in November 1961, such a viscerally thrilling album. The hit "My Favorite Things" and traditional English folk tune "Greensleeves"  are extended into long trance-like vamps. Benny Carter's 1936 classic "When Lights Are Low" showcases Dolphy's bass clarinet and in the originals "Impressions" and particularly "Africa"  the quintet hit almost ecstatic grooves. Dolphy's solos push Coltrane further into the spiritual free jazz that so divided later audiences. Dolphy's flute on "My Favorite Things" and especially his clarinet on "When Lights Are Low" are extraordinary, particularly the clarity of his upper register.

The highlight for me is the 22 minute version of "Africa" that closes the set. The two basses, bowed and plucked, Tyner's chordal work and solo, the slow build from the bass solo where the music seems to meander before Jones' explosive solo heralds the return of Dolphy and Coltrane improvising together on the theme, spiralling up the register, contrasting Coltrane's long slurries with Dolphy's staccato bursts which lead to the thunderous conclusion. 

As an archivist, sudden discoveries in forgotten basement boxes never surprises and the excitement never gets old. The tapes of Evenings at the Village Gate were recently unearthed in the NY Public Library sound archive after having been lost, found and lost again. Recorded by the Village Gate's sound engineer Rich Alderson these tapes were not meant for commercial use but rather to test the room's sound and a new ribbon microphone. As Alderson says in his notes, this was the only time he made a live recording with a single mic and, yes, there have been grumblings from fans and critics about the sound quality and mix particularly the dominance of Elvin Jones' drums. For me, one the best things about this is that you hear how integral Jones is not just as a fulcrum for the other soloists but as an inventive polyrhythmic presence, playing within and around his bandmates. I know that many of the Dusted crew are Coltrane fans and would love to hear your takes on the music and whether the single mic recording affects your enjoyment in any way. 

Andrew Forell

Justin Cober-Lake: There's so much to get into here, but I'll respond to your most direct question. The single-mic recording doesn't affect my enjoyment at all. I understand (sort of) the complaints, but I think they overstate the problem. More to the point, when I hear an archival release, I really want to get something new out of it. That doesn't mean I want a bad recording, but there's not too much point in digging up yet-another-nearly-the-same show (and I have nearly unlimited patience for Coltrane releases) or outtakes that give the cuts the same basic idea but just don't do it as well. I was really looking forward to hearing Coltrane and Dolphy interact, and nothing here disappoints. Having Jones so dominant just means I get to hear and think more about the role he plays in this combo. It would sound better to have the other instruments a little more to the fore, but it's not a problem (and actually Tyner's the one I wish I could hear a little better).

I think your topic suggests ideas about what these sorts of recordings — when made publicly available — are for. Is it academic material (the way we might look at a writer's journals or correspondence)? Is it to get truly new and good music out there? Is it a commercial ploy? Is it a time capsule to get us in the moment? The best curating does at least three of those with the commercial aspect a hoped-for benefit. This one probably hits all four, but I suspect the recording pushes it a little more toward that first category.

Bill Meyer: I’m playing this for the first time as I type, and I’m only to track three, so my (ahem) impressions could not be fresher. 

First, I’ll say that, like Justin, I have a lot of time for Coltrane, and especially the quartet/quintet music from the Impulse years. The band’s on point, it sounds like Dolphy is sparking Coltrane, and Jones is firing up the whole band. Tyner’s low in the mix and Workman’s more felt than heard; the recording probably reflects what it was like to actually hear this band most nights, i.e. Jones and the horn(s) were overwhelming. 

How essential is it? If you’re a deep student of Coltrane, there are no inessential records, and the chance to hear him with Dolphy, fairly early on, should not be passed up. But if you’re big fan, not a scholar, then you need to get The Complete 1961 Village Vanguard Recordings box and the 7-CD set, Live Trane: The European Tours, before you drop a penny on this album. And if you’re just curious, start with Impressions. This group is hardly under-documented. The sound quality, while tolerable, is compromised enough to make Evenings At The Village Gate less essential than everything I just mentioned. 

I’m only just now starting to play “Africa,” so I’ll check in again after I play that. 

“Africa” might be the best reason for a merely curious listener to get this album. It’s very exploratory, the bass conversation is almost casual (not a phrase I use much when discussing Coltrane), and they manage to tap into the piece’s inherent grandeur by the end. 

“Africa” is a great example of this band working out what they’re doing while they’re doing it. 

Andrew Forell: On Justin’s points about the function of archival releases, I’ve been going back and forth on the academic versus time capsule/good music uncovered question. There is a degree of cynicism and skepticism in these days of multidisc, anniversary box sets in arrays of tastefully colored vinyl which seemed designed for the super(liquid)fan and cater to a mix of nostalgia and fetish. Having said that specialist archival labels have done us a great service unearthing so much "lost" and under-represented music. On one hand I agree with your summation and to Bill’s point, yes this quintet has been pretty thoroughly documented and yes the Vanguard tapes would be the place to start. But purely as a fan I am more interested in live recordings than discs of out- and alternative takes. I’m thinking for example of the 1957 Monk/Coltrane at Carnegie Hall and Dolphy’s 1963 Illinois concert especially his solo rendition of “God Bless the Child," recordings that sat in archives for 48 and 36 years respectively.

By contrast, the other recent Coltrane excavation, Both Directions at Once is wonderful but I’m not listening to it as an academic exercise, taking notes and mulling over the different takes, interesting as they are. I approach Evenings as another opportunity to hear two great musicians, in a live setting, early on in their short partnership. As Justin says, this aspect doesn’t disappoint. I agree with Bill that the mix is close to what you would you hear in the room, the drums and horns to the fore. All this is a long way to a short answer. A moment in time, a band we’ll never experience in person and when all is said and done, 80 minutes of music I’d otherwise not hear.

Jonathan Shaw: As a relative newb to this music, I can't contribute cogently to discussions of this set's relative value. Most of the Coltrane I've listened to closely is from very late in his life, when he was playing wild and free--big fan of the set from Temple University in 1966 and the Live at the Village Vanguard Again! record from the same year. None of that is music I understand, but I feel it and respond to it strongly. The only Dolphy I've listened to closely is Out There. So I'll be the naif here.

I need to listen to these songs another few times before I can say anything about them as songs, but I really love the right-there-ness of the sound. I like being pushed around by the drums and squeezed between the horns (the first few minutes of "Greensleeves" are delightful in that respect). Maybe I'm lucky to come to the music with so little context. It's a thrill to hear the playing of these folks, about whom there is so much talk of collective genius. Perhaps because my ears are so raw to these sounds, I feel like that talk is being fleshed out for me.

Jim Marks: I think that this release has both academic and aesthetic (if that’s the right word) significance for Dolphy’s presence alone. I am more familiar with the original releases than the various re-releases from the period, but it’s my impression that there just isn’t that much Dolphy and Trane out there; for instance, I think Dolphy appears on just one cut of the Village Vanguard recordings (again, at least the original release). In particular, I’ve heard and loved various versions of “Favorite Things,” but this one seems unique for the six-plus-minute flute solo that opens the track. The solo is both brilliant in itself and creates a thrilling contrast with Coltrane when he comes in. This track alone is worth the price of admission for me.

Marc Medwin: I agree concerning Dolphy's importance to these performances, and while there is indeed plenty of Coltrane and Dolphy floating around (he took part in the Africa/Brass sessions that gave us both Africa and a big band version of "Greensleeves") his playing is really edgy here. Bill is right to point toward the sparks Dolphy's playing showers on the music. Yes, the flute on "My Favorite Things" is really stunning. He's all over the instrument, even more so than in those solos I've heard from the group's time in Europe.

Jon, I'd suggest that there's a strong link between the albums you mention and the Village Gate recordings we're discussing, a kind of continuum into which you're tapping when you describe the excitement generated by the playing. The musicians were as excited at the time as we are on hearing it all now! It was all new territory, the descriptors were in the process of forming, and while Cecil Taylor, Ornette Coleman, Sun Ra and a small group of kindred spirits were already exploring the spaceways, they were marginalized. That may be a component of the case today, but it's tempered by a veneration unimaginable at the time. That's part of the reason Dolphy lived in apartments where the snow came through the walls. Coltrane had plenty to lose by alienating the critics, but ultimately, it did not stop his progress. These recordings mark an early stage of that halting but inexorable voyage. With the possible exception of OM, Coltrane's final work never abandoned the tonal and modal extremes at which he was grabbing in the spring and summer of 1961.

Jennifer Kelly: Like Jon, I'm not well enough versed in this stuff to put it context or even really offer an opinion. I'm enjoying it a lot, and I, also, like the roughness and liveness of the mix with the foregrounded drums. But I think mostly what I am drawn to is the idea that this show happened in 1961, the year I was born, and that these sounds were lost for decades, and now you can hear them again, not just the music but the room tone, the people applauding, the shuffling of feet etc. from people who are almost all probably dead now.  It seems incredibly moving, and I am also taken by the part that the library took in this, in conserving this stuff and forgetting it had it and then rediscovering it.  In this age of online everything-available-all-the-time, that seems remarkable to me, and proves that libraries are so crucial to civilization now and always, even as they're under threat.  

Marc Medwin: A real time machine, isn't it? We are fortunate that we have these documents at all, and yes, the story of the tapes resurfacing is a compelling one! To your observations, audience reaction seems pretty enthusiastic to music that would eventually be dubbed anti-jazz by prominent members of the critical establishment!

Bill Meyer: I can imagine this music being more sympathetically received by audiences experiencing its intensity, whereas critics might have fretted because it represented a paradigm shift away from bebop models, so they had to decide if it was jazz or not.

It is amusing, given the knowledge we have of what Coltrane would be playing in five years, that this music is where a lot of critics drew a line in the sane and said, "this is antijazz."

Jon Shaw: Yes, Bill, that seems bonkers to me. I am particularly moved by the minutes in that 1966 set at Temple when Coltrane abandons his horn altogether and starts beating his chest and humming and grunting. Wonder what the chin-stroking jazz authorities made of that.

Given my points of reference, this set sounds so much more musically conventional. But the emotional force of the music is still immediate, viscerally present. Beautifully so.

Andrew Forell: In retrospect, all those arguments seem kind of crazy. Yesterday’s heresies become tomorrow’s orthodoxies but what we’re left with is, as Jonathan says, the visceral beauty of Coltrane’s striving for transcendence and his interplay with Dolphy’s extraordinary talent which we hear here working as a catalyst for Coltrane. As Marc and Jen note the audience is there with them..

Come Shepp, Sanders & Rashid Ali, the inquisitors’ fulminations only increased and you think what weren’t you hearing?

Marc Medwin: I was just listening to a Jaimie Branch interview where she's talking about her visual art, about throwing down a lot of material and finding the forms within it. I think that might be another throughline in Coltrane's and certainly Dolphy's work, a gradual discarding of traditional forms and poossibly structures based on what I hate to call intuition, because it diminishes the process.

Then, I was thinking again about our discussion of the critics. I see their role, or their assessment of that role, as a kind of investment without reward, and yeah, it does seem bonkers now! Bill Dixon once talked about how the writers might spend considerable time and expend commensurate energy learning to pick out "I Got Rhythm" on the piano, and they're suddenly confronted with... well, the sounds we're discussing! What would you do, or have done, in that situation? It's really easy for me, like shooting fish in the proverbial barrel, to disparage critical efforts of the time, especially in light of the ideas and philosophies Branch and so many others are at liberty and encouraged to play and express now, but I wonder how I would have reacted, what my biases and predilections would have involved at that pivotal moment.

Ian Mathers: The points about historical reception are really interesting, I think. There's a famous (in Canada!) bunch of Canadian painters called the Group of Seven, hugely influential on Canadian art in the 20th century and still well known today. In all the major museums, reproductions everywhere, etc. They were largely landscape painters, and while I think most of the work is beautiful, it's so culturally prominent that it runs the risk of seeming boring or staid. I literally grew up with it being around! So it was a delightful shock to read a group biography of them (Ross King's Defiant Spirits: The Modernist Revolution of the Group of Seven, if anyone is hankering for some CanCon) and see from contemporary reviews that people were so shocked and appalled by the vividness of their colour palettes and other aesthetic choices that they were practically called anti-art at the time. It's not surprising to me that this music would both attract similar furore at the time and, from the vantage point of a new listener in 2022 who loves A Love Supreme and some of the other obvious works but hasn't delved particularly far into Dolphy, Coltrane live, or this era in jazz in general (that would be me), be heard and felt as great, exciting, but not exactly formally radical stuff.

I don't think I would have noticed much about the recording quality were people not talking about it. "My Favorite Things" seems to have the overall volume down a bit, but still seemed pretty clear to me (agree with the assessments above; Coltrane, Dolphy, and Jones very forward, others further back although even when less prominent I find myself 'following' Tyner's work through these tracks more often than not), and starting with "When Lights Are Low" that seems to be corrected. It actually sounds pretty great to me! Although I absolutely defer to Bill's recommendations for better starting places for serious investigations, I can also say as a casual but interested fan who tends to quail in the face of box sets and other similarly lengthy efforts this feels from my relatively ignorant vantage like a perfectly nice place to start. I like Justin's rubric for why these releases might come about (or be valuable), but if I hadn't heard any Coltrane and you just gave me this one, my unnuanced perspective would just be something like "wow, this is great!" But maybe I'm underthinking it. And having that reaction doesn't mean that others aren't right to recommend better/more edifying entry points, or that having that reaction shouldn't lead one to educate oneself.

Jonathan Shaw: Maybe it's a lucky thing for me to be so poorly versed in Coltrane's music, not just in the sense of having listened to precious little of it. I am even less familiar with the catalog of music criticism, which in jazz seems to me voluminous, archival in scale. But even with music I'm extensively engaged with — historically, critically — I try to understand it and also to feel it. I can't imagine not feeling what's exciting in this music, energizing and challenging in equal measure.

Like Marc, I don't want to recursively impugn the critical writing of folks working in very different contexts. But I don't like it when the thinking gets in the way of the music's emotional and aesthetic force, which to me feels unmistakably powerful here.

Ian Mathers: Yeah, maybe that's a good distinction to draw; I can imagine in a different time and place feeling like the music here is more radical or challenging than it sounds to us now. But I can't quite imagine not getting a visceral thrill out of it.

Marc Medwin: And doesn't this contradiction get at the essence of what we're trying to do? Those of us who've chosen to write about music are absolutely stuck grasping at the ephemeral in whatever way we're able! How do we balance the ordering of considerations and explanations in unfolding sentences with the  spontaneity of action and reaction that made us pick up a pen in the first place?! We add and subtract layers of whatever that alchemical intersection of meaning and energy involves that hits so hard and compels us to write! In fact, the more time I'm spending with these snapshots of summer 1961, the more I decamp from my own philosophizing about critical relativity to sit beside Ian. The stuff is powerful and original, and the fact that so much of what we're hearing now is a direct result of those modal explorations and harmonically inventive interventions says that the dissenting voices were fundamentally, if understandably, wrong! It could be that the musician can be inclusive in a way the writer simply can't.

I'm listening to "Africa" again, which is for me the disc's biggest single revelation in that it's the only concert version we have, so far as I know. How exciting is that Jones solo, and how much does it say about his art and the group's collective art?!! He starts out in this kind of "Latin" groove with layers of swing and syncopation over it, he goes into a melodic/motivic thing like you'd eventually hear Ginger Baker doing on Toad, and then eases back into the groove, all (if no editing has occured) in about two minutes. He's got the music's history summed up in the time it would take somebody to get through a proper hello!! Took me longer to scribble about it than for him to play it!!

Justin Cober-Lake: I'm not sure if Marc is making me want to put down or pick up a pen, but he's definitely making me want to listen to "Africa" again. (Not that I needed much encouragement.)

Andrew Forell: Africa/Brass was the first jazz album I bought. Coming from post-punk, I found it immediately the most exciting and challenging music I’d heard and it set me off on my exploration of Coltrane, Dolphy, Coleman and their contemporaries. This version of “Africa” is a highlight for me also for all the reasons Marc, Ian and Jon have talked about.

Bill Meyer: Yeah, "Africa" is quite the jam! 

A thought about critical perspective — our discussion has gotten me thinking, not for the first time, about the impacts of measures upon experience, and the limits of critical thinking when I’m also an avid listener. If I’m listening for “the best” Coltrane/Dolphy, in terms of sound quality or most focused performances,  this album isn’t it. But if I’m looking for excitement, this album has loads of it, and that might be enhanced by the drums-forward mix. 

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance Cycle Characters: Eragon (pre-Blood Oath, book 1) and Arya (at least an attempt)

I own a copy of Crusader Kings 3, which is PHENOMENAL for character creation/visualization. So I got tinkering and got a fairly okay version of what Eragon looks like in Book 1. Since he's so young his appearance does change through the MIC version of book 2 since he and Co. spend nearly a year in Ellesmera, so this is just the Boi in book 1.

Is babby!

I...don't know why it's so gray now?? Damn it tumblr.

Anyway. He's average! Eragon has always been pretty average in appearance as far as I can tell. I don't see faces when I write, which makes this sorta thing difficult for me, but I did try to give his nose just a little bit of a hook/hawkish look to it. I feel like Eragon got more of his mother's looks while Murtagh got Morzan's, and poor Brom just gave the kid his nose.

I'll do his transformation and aged up version later.

But we also have my attempt at MIC!Arya, sans scars since I can't add those and a little less wild on the hair.

Significantly less 'alien' than the illustrated book has, but I just want my elves to appear just a liiiiiitle bit off. I'll probably go and do more edits later, but most of the time the elves don't look crazy like 'omg that's an elf' beyond the ears, but they all typically have high and defined cheekbones, slanted eyes and defined jawlines. If you stare at one long enough you'd probably go '..........is....is something off?'

It is more apparent as elves get older (typically starting around 4th century or so) that they start getting more and more 'off' looking. Their eyes get a sharper angle, pupils sometimes begin to appear just slightly slitted, jawline becomes just gradually more sharp along with the cheekbones. It's the original dragon bond intensifying, and usually is more apparent in those who can use magic (which is most but not all elves). It doesn't happen overnight but over decades.

There are those features that some elves are born with, and the ones that all elves are born with but are subdued until they can chose to let them be presented naturally or keep them subdued. That's mostly the teeth, while other elves sometimes are born with highly unusual eye coloration ('dragon eyes') or other manifestations of the original dragon bond, mostly mutations that present as physical draconic traits.

....what was i doing again?

[proshippresentmic]

Pinned info time

Call me Mic I guess, about 30 years old, he/they or similar.

I have a deep resentment for the terms profic and proship, but it scares kidders and sensitive catholic guilters away, so it's in my url.

I don't care what someone writes in fiction so long as they're a decent person to the real world. If you disagree then politely go back to your cesspit, I have no time for radfems and protofascist babies.

This account is for seeking/responding to RP ads, because I realized a lot of the seeking blogs here required an account for "liking to reach out", rather than just dropping a discord.

I use my discord account tag presentationmicheal for RP purposes, for the time being I'm ok with random friend requests, but I'm also a grouchy old man and if your vibes are rancid you're gone.

Goes without saying but 18+ partners only. Honestly preferably 21+

Under the cut is my general RP info!

Extremely very horrendously gay so I won't be interested in MxF, also extremely very horrendously trans so expect most if not all of my muses to come with pussy DLC.

Currently I'm only super into writing My Hero Academia (manga reader!).

Muses

---

Dabi / Touya Todoroki - primary muse, snarkastic piece of shit, I do not pull punches with him nor will I write him being a doting husband, or other out of character extremes.

Even in AUs where, somehow, Enji was an alright father, my Touya ends up a serial killer.

That said I can reel him in a little, but he will come with "canon typical asshole" warning either way.

No hard pref on whether he's got a cock or cunt.

---

Katsuki Bakugou - not 100% confident with him, but getting there. Always written at least 20 years old, UA was a college to me, what of it.

Again, canon typical asshole.

Primarily play him trans, but I can be convinced to play him otherwise.

---

Present Mic - Pretty sure I could write this cringelord in my sleep at this point. Nothing special about him, he's chillin'.

Slight preference for him having cock n balls, but I'll write him otherwise more than happily.

---

Currently on track learning Hawks, Aizawa, Enji and Natsuo. Unsure when I'll be confident enough.

---

Kinks, Limits n Shippy shite

Shit that I love: Omegaverse, hybrid AUs, height differences, enemies to lovers, biting/scratching, piss, petplay, dom/sub, ponyplay, bondage, muzzles. interrogations/captured be heroes or villains, male pregnancy (pussy preferable, but can deal with otherwise), public sex, heat/rut, aphrodisiacs, intercrural, mirrors... honestly most kinks not listed in limits/meh do something for me.

Dead dove edition: Incest, noncon, abduction, torture, guro/snuff, fuck-or-die, fuck-AND-die, human pet, meditorture, more I've probably forgotten.

Hard limits: Characters under 18, feet, scat/gas in general, mental institutions, ABDL/Ageplay, raceplay. I may have forgotten something, so this will probably update later.

Honorable mention: 'daddy' kink makes my skin crawl, but if your pitch is interesting I can tolerate it.

Meh: Vore, hyper, inflation. I hate calling them "Deviantart Kinks" but that does end up a good descriptor. I am into a couple of these but not for canons, can't explain it just don't like it.

Ships I'm primarily interested in:

Dabihawks, Dabiskep, Todocest of many flavors, Dabizawa, Dabibaku, Bakudeku, Kiribaku, Todobaku, Endhawks, Erasermic, Mightmic, Erasermight, Dabishigs.

Open to others (and I love a good crackship).

(I'm willing to break out my not-quite-confident guys for some of these, just forgive any fumbles.)

Misc shit

I'm of the opinion the characters would have fouler language were this manga higher rated, so expect my guys to drop a couple harsh words here and there. If you're offended by the word 'fuck', we won't get along.

I've got no hard pref for positions, I'll write them all.

Response times vary from "100 responses a minute" and "once every couple days" depending on how much work I have on. If I'm slacking and not responding every three days though, time to whallop me with the cartoon mallet.

I'm a grown ass man with an honesty clause. I will be upfront if I've fallen out of love with a thread, and if I feel up for coming back to it later. I expect the same of you, please.

My active hours are somewhat random and work dependent, and can sometimes be entirely flipped in a couple days.

RP through Discord only. We can make a server!

Third person paralit, 2 paragraphs minimum, no need to match my length if I go off the rails!

I really, really, really love headcanoning/"what-if"s/spitballing. This doesn't always have to become a thread, I really dig discussing what could have happened with current threads if XYZ was different, this isn't a wistful sigh wishing things were different. I'm going to be talkative OOC, you will get memes if they're relavant to what we're doing - or if I figure you'd just like em, I am not going to treat you like an RP token machine.

I don't expect that much legwork in return, but please at least be willing to do dumb spitballing OOC a little.

[little-writing-drabbles]

ᖫ Interview ᖭ

Ask: N/A

Type: x reader

Word count: 4,244

Reader: gn, no pronouns specified

TW: death, description of a murder, mutilation (not reader), mental illness potentially, mention of a car accident, not proofread, grammar, probably really shitty

Sunsets were always your favorite. You remembered when you got your first car in high school and you would drive up a mountain in the outskirts of your town and would watch the sun set almost everyday. It helped you relax on bad and stressful days, like the sun was taking it away from you, leaving the moon to keep you company. You loved the colors, the orange and yellow of the lowering sun mixing with the blue sky and shades of purple and pink color the clouds, making them look like cotton candy. It was peaceful. You didn’t watch the sunset as much as you used to, work takes up a lot of your time.

Your job isn’t one you liked talking about or telling people, in simple words, you were a true crime podcaster. Researching crimes took up a lot of your time, you needed any and all details you could get your hands on, news articles, accounts of the people involved, witnesses reports, interrogation footage and even crime scene photos were things that were important to recounting cases to the public. You were thankful two of your friends had offered to help you with your research to not overwork yourself. Your relaxation time was interrupted when your phone rang, reaching into your cupholder where your phone sat, you picked up your phone to read the caller ID ‘Melody’. You sighed a little and answered her call, the sound coming out of your car speaker.

“Hey Melody.” You couldn’t hear anything coming from the other side, causing you to sit up in your seat and fiddle with the volume, “you there?”

“Where are you?”

You covered your ears quickly, after messing with the volume knob, you had left it on max volume. Melody’s voice boomed through your car and you quickly turned it down. “Hello?” You sucked in a breath through your teeth.

“Yeah I’m here”

“Are you ok? What happened?”

“I couldn’t hear you so I messed with the volume and blew my eardrums out.”

“Dumbass.” Melody laughed. You fixed your jacket on your shoulders and listened to the thump and rustling from Melody’s side of the call. “You never answered my question.” more rustling, “Where are you?”

“Beach, watching the sunset.” 

“Did you edit the footage?” You froze as you shuffled in your car, “You haven't even started yet huh.”

“No!” You rubbed you'd face and turned your car on. “I'm heading home now ok, I'll start working on it.” Melody hummed. 

“Good, Ive given the other two videos another watch through and fixed a few things here and there and now I just need to make thumbnails for them.” You nodded and to took to the road to head home, watching the sunset from the passenger window in glances. 

“Ill be home soon, Ill text you when I finish editing ok?”

“Alright, dont forget to eat something”

“I won't, text you later.”

“yeah, by biatch.” You laughed as Melody ended the call and you pulled into your driveway. Quickly getting inside before the cold wind picked up. You let out a sigh of relief as you turned on a few light that lead to your living room where you set up your computers for editing. 

You waisted no time in sitting down and turning on the computer to get to work editing on the footage you had already uploaded into Adobe™. You out on your headphones and played to footage right see what you gas gotten, preparing for the first watch though. 

— — — — — — — ✂ — — —

“Hello ladies and gents, welcome to ‘The Dark Truth: A Candid Conversation with Convicts’. A series where I sit down with criminals and ask them about their crimes from their perspective.” You shuffled in your seat as you motioned to the person in front of you. “I'm sitting here today with Max Watson.” Max nodded and he sat straight in his chair in front of the mic that you had set up in front of him. “Max there's two sides to your story and I want to split that up and take it in parts.”

“Ok.” Max stared at you as he spoke, making you squirm a little in your chair. Max had an intense stare, chocolate brown eyes bore into you as he waited for his turn to speak.

“There was a point in your life when things at home weren't doing so great, how old were you?” Max sighed as he thought. 

“I would say…” Max bounced his head from side to side as he remembered back to his life before being locked up, “I would say when I was about sixteen.” He nodded, content with his answer. 

“Can you tell me about your life before then?”

“Well, for a majority of my life I grew up on the west coast on the cliffs right next to the beach in a beach house, we moved there when I was nine, my sister was six I believe?” 

“How close to the beach were you? Was it a town or just a house?” Max tapped his nose a little before looking at you.

“It was right there, like there was just a road between my front yard and the carved in stairs that led down to the beach.” Max used his hands to map out the layout of his house on the table.

“Did you have neighbors?” Max titled his head to the side as he scratched his head, tangling his fingers into his hair that matched his eyes. 

“I had like one, I think.” Max placed his hand back onto the table as he lifted his head to an upright position, “They weren't super close but not far either. My mom hated it.”

“She hated the beach house?” He nodded. 

“Yes, my mom has a very intense fear of the ocean, she never wanted to move into that house.” You opened your mouth to speak but Max beat you to it. “My dad didn't care, we moved anyway.”

“Did they argue about it?”

“Of course. My dad was an architect and he made that house we moved into.”

“Were you upset when you moved?” 

Max shook his head while you readjusted yourself. “No, I was a daddy's boy, if he wanted to move then I would follow without a second thought. And he made that house for me.”

“He made it for you?” Max nodded, “how so?” Max's eyes seemed to sparkle as he rubbed his hands together, excited to tell the story. 

“I had always seen people surf in movies and tv and I wanted to learn how and told my dad about it all the time and so he designed a beach house for me.” You nodded a little. A cute memory of Max and his dad but you reminded yourself where you were both sitting.

“Do you think people are living in that house now?” He shrugged. 

“I don't know, honestly it makes me angry to think about that. That the house my dad made for me is being lived in by other people.” You nodded in understanding. 

“Can you tell me about your mom? Were you close?” Max whined a little and shook his head sheepishly as he scratched his head. He chuckled a little before placing his hand on his thighs. 

“I didn't really care for her.” Max looked down at the table, “She was in the way most of the time.” Max looked back up at you, “my sister was always with her.”

“They were close weren't they.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about your sister?”

“Not much to say, she was in the way too.”

“You don't love her?”

“Not really.” Max shook his head and almost shivered at the thought, “She wanted to be a detective so she was always talking about clues and mysteries. I know she loved Sherlock Holmes. Called me her Watson and all but made me play detective with her.”

“This beach house, did you ever learn to surf?” Max perked up at your question and nodded excitedly.

“I did.” Max leaned in, “my dad got me a surfboard and I spent all morning everyday out on the water learning.” Max smiled fondly at the memory, “I would stay our and watch the sunrise all the time, and the sunsets were just as devine.” 

“Wow, it must have been beautiful.”

“Oh always.” Max tapped the table a little, “I loved it, I would watch the sunset almost every day.” He sighed before scratching his hand, “not always but at least I never missed a sunrise.” You nodded as your rubbed your arms and stretched your back.

“i'm assuming you got better over the years?”

“Yes, I was doing surfing competitions by the time I was in High School. My dad would go but my sister and mom never did.”

“Mmm. So while you got better your mom got worse.”

“Yeah.”

“How bad did it get?”

“She got really pale, she never went out because you would just be looking at the ocean so she only ever went out to the backyard but it wasn't often.” Max scratched his head again, “She and my sister would beg to move so mom could get better but my said would just tell them ‘we're not moving’ to their faces.” 

“Why didn't your mom just have her family come take her away?”

“She wasn't close with her family ever, like no contact so she didn't have anywhere to go.” You hummed a response and tapped the table a little. 

“What happened when you were sixteen?”

“My dad died.” Max's voice was flat as he stared at you, almost glaring at you for asking. “Car accident, he was coming home from town at night and was hit by a group of teenagers that were driving on the wrong side and my dad swerved but so did they and they pushed him off the side of that cliff.”

“Did you know the teenagers that were in the car?” Max clenched his teeth and began grinding his jaw before nodding.

“All of them were in my English class.” Max shook his head in a disapproving way, “They couldn't even look at me.” Max shuffled in his chair and clenched his fists to calm himself down, “They tried for weeks to apologize and make it up for me but I wasn't gonna let them.”

“Their apologies wouldn't bring your dad back.” Max looked at you stunned.

“Yeah.” Max couldn't be angry anymore, he looked around awkwardly before looking back at you. “It was really hard for me, I guess it was also hard for my mom and my sister.” 

“You were the man of the house at that point.” 

“I was, my dad left me a majority for his things and the house, while my mom and my sister got some money.”

“Did you keep surfing?”

“I had too.” Max stared at the mic in front of him, “Surfing was my thing. It helped me cope.” 

“Things didn't get better with your mom after your dad passed, did they.” Max shook his head. 

“No, I was sixteen when my dad passed and eighteen when my mom lost her vision.”

“Your mom listed her vision? Was it an eye disease?”

“No, it was self-inflicted.” You raised your eyebrows in shock, “I look a lot like my dad and when he passed my mom didn't have many ways to cope, I don't know if she didn't try or it wasn't working but she started calling me Willas–my dads name–and kept telling me to not go outside and stay out of the water and telling me that we should move away for Max's safety and I was sick of it honestly.”max shrugged as he waved his arms about slightly before leaving then. on his lap. 

“So what did you do?”

“I told her to leave me alone.” Max shook his head, “I thought her fear of deep water was annoying at this point and since I was of age all of the things my dad left me were now in my possession including the house.” Max rubbed his face as he leaned forward again, “so since I was so fed up I grabbed her arms-” Max held one of his forearms and shook it lightly, “ like this and I started dragging her out of the house, telling bee that if she wanted to stay in my house she needed to get over her fear because I wasn't gonna leave.” 

Max let his arm go and propped his head up with his arm on the table, “I didn't get her out of the house but I got her to the front door and she lost her marbles and broke down. My sister was out at the time and she had just gotten home and got really mad at me.”

“She helped your mom back inside?”

“Yeah,” Max rubbed his temples, “a few days later I went out into town to get a few things and even a new board and when I got home I saw my mom on the kitchen floor with a bunch of cleaning products and she was holding this like,” Max moved his hands in front of him to make a cylinder as he thought, “it was like a soup take out thing and she lifted it up and poured it on her face so it would get into her eyes.” You covered your eyes in discomfort before looking back at Max. 

“It was cleaning products, wasn't it.” Max nodded in conformation. 

“Yeah, I called 911 and they confirmed it there and when they had asked her why she said I saw the ocean I saw the deep over and over again.” Max scratched his forehead, “My sister was mad at me that I didn't stop her and well I don't blame her for that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I had ample time to stop her, and I just didn't want to.”

“What was going through your head at that time?”

“I just thought, well maybe if dies she won't be such a nuisance but she didn't and that's when I called 911.” Max glanced down at the mic before looking back to you, “I watched her cry for about…” he shrugged “like almost five minutes.”

“Did your sister ever forgive you for that?”

“Eventually yeah, she shouldn't have.”

“So this was a pretty dark period in your life you'd say, right?” Max hummed a response “Is this where you had met your girlfriend.” Max nodded quickly. 

“Yeah, it was a year later.”

“Where and how exactly did you meet her, your girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Max looked at you stunned again, “No one's asked that before.” He picked at the table a little before leaning towards the mic “Well, I met her–my then girlfriend– on the beach while surfing.” He leaned back in his chair a little, “She was new in town and she was on the beach watching me and when I got out of the water to go back home she stopped me and asked me to teach her.” Max shrugged. 

“And you said yes?” Max laughed a little.

“Kinda, I thought she was pulling my arm so I said meet me here tomorrow at 7 AM and then I'll teach you. And she did.”

“And a love blossomed?” You smiled and Max smiled back. 

“It did, but I always felt like it was too fast.”

“like you got into the relationship too fast?”

“Yeah, it was only like I wanna say,” Max shrugged his shoulders as he looked around. “like a month later?”

“A month? Did you ask her to be your girlfriend?” Max shook his head quickly, a slight look of panic on his face. 

“No no no she asked me.” Max interlocked his fingers with his own. “I would have waited for much longer than a month.”

“I think it's time I asked you the big question.” Max nodded and smiled, “why are you in prison.”

“I'm in prison for killing my girlfriend of four years and her sister.”

“How long were you and your girlfriend in a relationship before you killed her.”

“Four years.”

“That’s quite a while.”

“It was the longest relationship I was in, yes.”

“Why'd you do it?” Max shrugged again. 

“Lyla loved her sister, they were joined at the hip. I knew she loved her because she told me but I never knew just how involved Sidney would be.”

“Sidney was the sister?”

“A huh.” Max nodded as he shuffled. “It was after the first year of us being together that Lyla told me her sister would be moving in with her and I didn't mind because—well what was I gonna do—and Lyla kinda kept blowing me off after that.”

“How so?”

“Like we would make plans to hang out and I would either be stood up or she would bring Sidney without ever letting me know.” Max ran his fingers through his hair and sharply exhaled, “I forgave her and let it slide multiple times before I brought up the issue with her and I said ‘Do you want to break up with me?’ and she was super confused and asked me why I would bring it up and I told her,” Max fixed his posture and tapped the table.

“You've been bringing your sister everywhere with us, or straight up ignoring me. I don't mind that you're hanging out but I want your attention sometimes too, just the two of us because I haven't lately.” You nodded along with him. “I like when people are direct with me, to tell me what bothers them or what they need from me so having to sit Lyla down and listen to me was important.” 

“Did she stop?” Max tilted his head in confusion, “like did she spare some time for just the two of you?” Max shook his head. 

“No,” He shrugged, “well she did but it was just for one week and even then she was texting her sister constantly.”

“And when did you tell her this?”

“It was two years into the relationship, then a year went past and I sat her down again and said ‘I already told you once, I want your attention sometimes too and you didn't listen to me, why?’ and she tried to defend herself and shit but it just caused the argument to escalate.”

“Did you hit her?” 

“No, but I grabbed a vase that was near me and threw it at the wall and left, which isn't great either.” Max shrugged again, “I regretted it after I got home.”

“When did you decide you wanted to kill her sister Sidney?”

“Honestly after she moved in with Lyla. Like I saw how close they were and how I was being pushed to the side I just, “ Max sighed. “I never shook the idea off and as the years went on it only made more sense to me that she should die.”

“What happened that day?”

“We were hanging out at her house and for once I thought, finally I can have her to myself for a little while, and then she looked at her phone really quick and told me, Sidney’s coming home soon so we can all hang out–and my first reaction was to get up and leave because I was getting sick of it, I wanted out and Lyla begged me to stay and I did.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Just to stay and hang out, that it would only be a little while but she said it in this very sweet way and couldn't say no. And then when Sidney got there she all but shoved me to the side as she went to greet her as if she doesn't live there with her and I said I was gonna go to the kitchen and make myself something to eat and Lyla looked at me and responded with ‘get me and Sidney something something eat too will ya darling?’ and that shit got on my nerves.” Max rubbed his face before continuing. 

“I had wanted to make myself a sandwich but I could hear Lyla and Sidney laughing in the other room and I couldn't focus on anything besides the fact that I wanted her dead.” You felt a chill run down your spine as you listened, keeping poker face on you let Max continue. “Like I grabbed a knife and looked at it as I thought about it and it wasn't long before Sidney got up and left again to the store or whatever and Lyla called me out to the living room and I went.”

“Did killing Lyla cross your mind at all?”

“Briefly, in that moment when I stood behind her I thought ‘do I really want to kill my girlfriend? yeah’ and then I turned her to look at me, covered her mouth with my hand, pushed her down and stabbed her.”

“How many times did you stab her?”

“At least six or seven times, I didn't really count but I wore myself out, I was tired so when she stopped moving I got up and sat on the couch next to her.”

“Were you waiting for Sidney to come back?”

“Of course, I killed Lyla but I wanted Sidney dead too. I waited for about fifteen minutes before Sidney got back and I stood by the door.”

“Did she scream when she saw what you did?” Max shook his head once more. 

“No, Sidney was looking at the ground when she came in and turned her back to where I was standing–” you cut Max off. 

“Where were you standing?”

“I was by Lyla's body, like I wasn't trying to cover it, I wanted Sidney to see Lyla like that.” 

“Why?” Max shrugged and you nodded as a chill ran down your spine again. 

“I just wanted Sidney to see her like that, and when she did I covered her mouth with my hand and pushed her against the door before stabbing her too.”

“Did you know you were gonna get caught?” Max nodded. 

“I did but I didn't know how long it would take.” Max scratched his hand, “I washed the knife, got into a change of clothes and went home, it was kinda late so I just entered to bed.”

“How were you caught?

“Lyla had nosy neighbors and she lived more in like an actual residential area so they probably heard the screams I don't doubt it.”

“Where were you when you were caught.”

“Take a wild guess.” Max laughed a little and you felt the blood drain from your face. “I was out on the water, I figured they would come the next day but I wanted to surf one more time before I was taken in.”

“What did they say?”

“They just waited on the beach and told me to come back to shore and I took my time so I could watched the sunrise and I did. I didn't fight or resist I just wanted this over with, even with the interrogation, the dude just hadn't even sit down and I told him. 

“You told him you did it? What did you say?”

“Yea I just said ‘your here because of Layla and Sidney Rowland, they were found in 736 Coral Road, yeah I killed them.’ and he was stunned.” There was a long silence between you and Max. 

“What's your sentence, Max.” 

“Life without parole.”

“How many years into your sentence are you?”

“Three years, I'm 25 now.”

“Do you regret killing Lyla?” Max stayed quiet for a while. 

“Sometimes. I really did like her.”

“Would you do it again?”

“Kill? Yea.”

“Thats all the questions I have, thank you for sitting down with me Max.” You stood up from the table you were sitting at and held your hand out to him. Max stared at your hand before looking over to the prison guards standing and watching you both. 

“Can I shake their hand?” The guards looked at one another and nodded, giving him the green light. Max reached over and gave your hand a shake before standing up and making his way to the guards while you collected the mics. “It was nice talking to someone Y/N, thanks.”

You looked up at Max who was being escorted away and you gave a nod. “Thank you for sitting down with me.” You and Max shared a laugh. 

“As much fun as I has with this interview and talking to you, I hope I never see you again.” Max spoke with seriousness that left you a little shaken.

“Why not?”

“I like getting attention all to myself, I get used to it very fast.” You dropped the smile on your face and Max shot you a playful wink before laughing at your reaction and following the guards back into the building. You quickly walked over to your camer that stood on it's tripod and you stopped the recording. 

You were starring at your own shirt on the computer monitor. You rubbed your face as you were put back in that prison with Max. The things he told you as he left burned into your mind and made your stomach feel funny. You took off your headphones and put them on your desk before walking over to the large floor to ceiling windows and stood there, looking out to the dark ocean that spread out right across the street. 

[knowlessman]

bnha prepare to cry edition (s2e10-12), with Todoroki: Origins

huh, new OP. bit of a different vibe, but I'm not complaining; sounds familiar tho - …oh. I clicked on the previous episode by mistake, this is the outro

ahem, yes, complexes n abuse n stuffs

still same old OP. the animation is nice tho, I'll say that much

oh shit here we go

"with your arms like that, you can't fight any more" the human body has four limbs, zuko. granted, deku has already committed a lot of healing to what's essentially an overvalued pissing match

…eh? why'd that one work? -- he can cash in each finger twice now??? 'XD at the rate he's going, he's going to cash in all the potential he had and have nothing to put on his resume just to have a resume -- "there's a limit to how much cold your body can take" yeah, and it's a lot fucking higher than your limits; zuko doesn't need a new arm every fight -- "you haven't put a single scratch on me yet" says the guy who's only been keeping himself in the game by sacrificing lands every turn and who doesn't even seem to have a wincon

"endeavor is shouting encouragement now, such a doting father" get. the fuck. off. the mic.

endeavor's gonna be unwatchable after this, I think. he's gonna think all his dreams came true. imo, deku shoulda let todoroki limit himself. there are worse responses to being born with power/privilege than "I refuse to use it."

ooh, iida's up next

(todoroki to endeavor) "for a moment, I forgot about you." damn straight.

oh, who invited mineta? fuck off.

wonder if they ever call back to this "your arm will never be the same" stuff later. I guess I couldn't blame them too much if they don't, but they are making a big deal out of how much deku keeps sacrificing for momentary advantages in fights that ultimately don't really matter. heck, even when he doesn't damage a limb more than usual, he's ostensibly using up his body's lifetime capacity for healing (I think they implied that last season anyway).

(iida showing plant girl the door) 'XD only the most gentlemanly of ring-outs. typical of iida; old-fashioned, but exceedingly polite while somehow not sacrificing effectiveness.

meanwhile, back in the world…

I love the metapod bros, they're great 'XD

iida did good tho; gotta admit, the jobbers are jobbing (including all the girl characters bc patriarchy -_-), but they are at least getting to have A Plan that Could Have Worked, they're not just showing up and getting shutout

(iida's brother got got) hm. shame. -- …like. I mean this isn't being overdone or anything, it doesn't feel cliche or out-of-nowhere or whatnot, but part of me still wants to joke about iida going edgy and going on a revenge quest and getting a sword and shit. I don't know if I hope that actually happens; mostly I'm thinking "it's gonna be a helluva moment when he finds out." : / the show has managed to avoid killing off any named characters so far, but we didn't know ingenium (?) that well

(bakugo vs tokoyami) dangit. I hate it when dickheads figure things out

"do you have a moment to hear about our lord and savior Facepalm-sama?"

there are 25 daggone episodes in this season, it's a good thing they're such bangers

(flashback to last season) "I'm gonna beat you, deku, and I'll do it wearing my two-sizes-too-big delinquent-style baggy pants!"

"I AM… KICKING THE DOOR IN LIKE A DICKHEAD WITH A CHIP ON MY SHOULDER THAT CAN BE SEEN FROM OUTER SPACE!!!" -- "you knew midoriya when you were kids. has he always given a shit about other people?" 'XD

bakugo and endeavor are literally the same person except endeavor acts like he can read

…this annoying butt-60's-superhero music thing just said "be a fuck*ng superstar." they bleeped out the i in -ing. …anyway

(muffled explosions) mineta: "w-what's that sound?" leave this show mineta, every single frame you are in could be edited out with no other changes and the show would be improved for it

"the stronger the quirk, the more imprecise the attacks" says the guy who definitely didn't watch todoroki's fight with iida

no, bakugo, as a matter of fact you don't deserve the world and everything in it just because your mother told you so -- good timing with the knockout gas. seriously, if bakugo even got hired he'd be a massive liability to anybody who tried to either manage or team up with him. guy needs several tons of high-impact character development before he'll be anything else.

give bakugo a golden dunce cap because they only paired him against people who had type disadvantages to him and one person who would have hated having to look at the trophy anyway. …oh yeah he did fight kirishima; I guess that one was decided more through stamina than by anything else

'XDDD holy fuck bakugo looks like the Ram from Dead Island -- …no yeah there's just no talking to bakugo for awhile I think. I mean, hell, there usually isn't anyway

weirdo bakugo still has the medal in his mouth

(ingenium died I think?) harsh

(todoroki visits his mom) hm

eh, seems like a good stopping point for now I think

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Elisabeth von Österreich (1931) [Elisabeth of Austria]

Alright, Im not gonna lie, I didnt like this one very much

One of the big things that prevented me from really getting into this film was the audio. The volume was all over the place, especially in the beginning, with normal dialogue being way too quiet and stuff like a general (?) at the start yelling being way too loud, and it seemed like a lot of the dialogue was dubbed in, to the point where I thought that maybe they had to redub it years later in order to restore it or something, but the wikipedia page doesnt mention it so Im guessing it was just a consequence of sound being a very new thing in film at that point. There were also issues where I felt like they cut the audio weirdly. Like, during a lot of the silent moments you can hear some background noise that I guess the mics picked up on set, and whenever theres a longer silence they just completely cut that out so its dead-silent and it was very jarring when they went from that back to the dialogue. And it was kinda weird how there was basically no background music or score, but again, this was one of the earliest movies with sound, and it didnt take me out of the story too much, it was just something I noticed, so its not a big deal.

I also thought the pacing and editing were very strange; the movie as a whole had a very slow pace, as is typical for older films, and the editing usually matched that but then there were parts that were cut so sporadically, it was so weird. There were also parts that felt like comedy smashcuts. Like, there was this one bit where Rudolf talks to Mary after theyve been together for a while and after he's been engaged to Stephanie. He gives her a ring, she says something in disbelief (i dont remember what) and he says something to the effect of "And guess what else I did!" and then BAM! smashcut to Franz Joseph talking to the pope being like "He did WHAT??" talking about Rudolf requesting a divorce behind his back, or however you would say that in english. Honestly, this movie had a very weird tone, but I'll get into a bit later, for now I want to talk more about the pacing of the story in general, instead of just the pacing from scene-to-scene, because that also wasnt very good

It felt very meandering and aimless and really dragged on after a while, and Im not just saying that because it was slow compared to more modern movies and had a different story structure than Im used to. I know old movies tend to be slow and I admit that I dont have the longest attention span, but Ive seen a few films from the 1920s-30s and found some of them pretty engaging before so its not just that. I think its the fact that theres no real throughline, its just a series of vignettes that dont feel connected by much more than the fact that they all star the same few characters. Theres no theme or really a point other than portraying Elisabeth's life from shortly before the birth of Rudolf up to her death, and I dont think that was executed very well. One thing that particularly bothered me was how the story would just jump ahead several years or months with basically no visual indication that any time had passed. Like, okay, let me briefly describe to you four scenes that mostly happen one after another towards the beginning of the movie:

Elisabeth is at a concert/dance performance-type thing and starts feeling faint so she leaves the room and her servants tell her to go to bed

A doctor is in Elisabeth's room when Franz Joseph comes in, he tells him that she's pregnant and needs the most rest, leaves, then we see Franz Joseph and Elisabeth be excited about their new child

Sometime after Rudolf is born, Elisabeth is still resting in bed and asks one of her servants to bring him to her, she tells her that he's gone and with Sophie which upsets her. Then Franz Joseph comes up to her and asks her why shes so upset and they argue for a bit

A bunch of business men have an audience with Franz Joseph to tell him that business has been getting worse because the empress hasnt been in Vienna for years and ask him to get her to come back, to which hes just like "sorry, the doctor prescribed her some time in the mountains, theres nothing I can do"

like huh??? And then shortly after that we already see Rudolf as a grown adult with absolutely no transition! I swear, its like a worse version of the second act of Elisabeth das Musical

Speaking of Rudolf, I felt like he took up an awful lot of screen time in this film called "Elisabeth of Austria". And I dont think I would have minded it if his storyline was executed in an interesting way, but it wasnt. I thought it was very shallow and honestly, if I didnt know the historical context I would've found the scene where he commits suicide extremely confusing. As it stands, I just think it was badly executed. Like, he goes to (what I assume to be) his house in Mayerling where a bunch of his friends are having fun, theres music and women and alcohol, Mary is waiting for him in another room, he excuses himself to go to her, tells her about how his request for a divorce didnt come through and that theres only one option for them now, then we cut to this extended bit of all the men getting more and more jovial (I think some of them start singing) and then theres two shots from the other room and everything goes quiet for a long moment before they go to check on them and find them dead. Idk, it doesnt sound that bad when I just lay it out like that, but I dont think its as impactful as it should have been on its own, and also just didnt have the necessary buildup to make it impactful

This ties in really well into another complaint I have, which is that none of main characters (Elisabeth, Franz Joseph, Rudolf) felt fleshed out. They were so shallow and their interactions with eachother were very stiff which really didnt help, although granted, that might just be because its an old movie about monarchs from the late 19th century, so that could just be a case of there being different social conventions at play than Im used to. In any case, Elisabeth was probably the strongest character, I thought she had some good interactions with her ladies-in-waiting and I thought her scenes with Rudolf were sweet and I enjoyed them, even though I wouldve liked their relationship to be less straightforwardly good and a bit more complicated. I will say though, despite thinking that Elisabeth is the best written character, I found it weird how the very beginning of the film makes her seem naive and out-of-touch with her empresshood as though she only recently got married to Franz Joseph, but then they later establish that this is only a while before Rudolf's birth, so she's been at this for some time. I mean, she even says, during that argument with Franz Joseph after Sophie took Rudolf, "Ive gotten used to being in a golden cage by now"

Speaking of the beginning, remember how I said that the movie had kindof a weird tone but that I was gonna talk about it in detail later? Later is now.

The first 10 (or maybe 20, I didnt have a good sense of time watching this) minutes act as essentially an introduction to Elisabeth (and to a lesser extend Franz Joseph and Sophie, who basically disappears after this timeslot) and theyre so much sillier and more light-hearted than the rest of the film. Like, from these first few minutes I thought this was basically going to be a kind of proto-version of the Sissi-trilogy in terms of tone, but instead it was..... whatever it actually was. Honestly, now that Im actually trying to write about my issues with the tone of this movie, Im struggling to really describe what those are. Maybe its the fact that it didnt really make me feel anything other than like, "interested" i guess; it was an interesting watch because it was made in a completely different time and you notice that no matter what you focus on, the cinematography, the sets, the acting, the way the imperial monarchy is presented, but I just could not get genuinely invested, which made the emotional moments pretty much all fall flat, and I think thats the main reason why the tone was so strange to me.

Although to be fair, there was one emotional moment that I thought was good, and by one moment I mean two moments that I unfortunately only half-like.

Moment One was Elisabeth being told of Rudolf's suicide. While all the stuff at Mayerling happens and one of the guys there gets sent off to deliver the news of Rudolf's death to his family, shes sitting in her room being read poetry by her lady-in-waiting. The messenger tells the news to the guards stationed in front of Elisabeth's door, then we see one of the guards enter her room and theres a beat and then we just hear Elisabeth's anguished crying while the guard and her lady-in-waiting leave and the camera never leaves this hallway in front of her room, I think its very strong. Or, I thought it was very strong, because it seems that had mixed up the two women and Elisabeth was actually the one who left the room and I guess her lady-in-waiting was the one who cried ? Idk man, this is a black and white movie where most of the characters dress kindof similarly and the version that I watched didnt have the best image quality, so despite my best efforts and despite the fact that I did not look at my phone once during my whole watchthrough (which is something I have difficulties with) I kept mixing up characters. In hindsight, that definitely contributed a lot to my struggling to get invested

But anyway, Moment Two actually comes right after the first one. The reason Elisabeth left her room was to tell Franz Joseph right away. He's working at his desk and kind of dismissively asks her something to the effect of "huh, how come youre up so early?" when she comes in and Elisabeth doesnt acknowledge it at all, she just tells him but you can tell that she's struggling to even say the words and trying so hard not to completely break down, I think her actress, Lil Dagover, was really strong here. I just wish we couldve actually seen her face and the emotions on her face and didnt just have to hear them in her voice, because most of this scene consists of this closeup of Franz Joseph dropping a pen or a cigarette and then clenching his hand and then burying his head in his hands and crying, and its just like come onnnnnnnn, show me Elisabeth's face! This is her movie and I do NOT care about Franz Joseph!!

Whatever. I was just about to wrap it up because this review is getting long and Ive spent hours writing it already, but I just remembered something that I actually wanted to bring up while talking about tonal issues but then briefly forgot about, and I cant figure out how to organically add it to that section of the post, so Im just tacking it on at the end. Atleast its not completely out-of-place since Im gonna talk about the end of the film, which seems like a fitting end to this review.

Obviously its Elisabeth with her lady-in-waiting in Geneva, about to board the ship when she suddenly gets stabbed. Elisabeth falls to the ground while her lady-in-waiting freaks out a bit, but she just stands back up and brushes it off ?? And like, her lady-in-waiting more or less stops being concerned as well after Elisabeth says shes fine, they just walk towards the ship at a leisurely stroll like nothing even happened. Like, did she not actually get stabbed? is she not actively bleeding out?? And this is intercut with this whole crowd of people swarming around the guy who stabbed her and theyre yelling at him, but theyre yelling like "thief!" and not "murderer!" for some reason?? Elisabeth does start to sway while she's boarding the ship and the other passengers notice, but theyre not like "holy shit, she's bleeding out!" theyre just like "oh, she looks sick" huh??? So then she collapses and they bring her to the ship doctor and they do give her a bandage to cover her unacknowledged wound with, its very strange.

And then she properly dies, this is actually another moment that I find quite effective. The doctor tries to speak to her but she's already delirious and mutters some unintelligable nonsense, getting increasingly quieter until she's silent, then we get this shot of the back of her head as she slowly lifts her head to look backwards directly into the camera. I thought she was gonna have some poignant last words here, but she just goes stiff and then the doctor closes her eyes. Right after I watched it, I thought this last shot was unsettling in a horrorstory kind of way and found it inappropriate, but after thinking about it more and replaying it in my head a few times, I actually found it unsettling in a way that I feel is appropriate for a depiction of a person dying and pretty effective.

So yeah, all in all, while this movie certainly isnt the worst thing Ive ever seen, it does get a big thumbs down from me 👎

Before you go, heres two small, kinda stupid things that I couldnt fit anywhere else but didnt want to not mention:

For that concert/dance performance-thing they put Elisabeth in that white dress with the flowers (or stars?) in her hair from that one really iconic painting, and it looks bad. Or, well, it doesnt look bad in a vacuum, but I think its a bad recreation of a very gorgeous dress. I expect that most of the Sissi-movies will feature that dress at some and I'll be sure to pay close attention to how good it looks there too

The scene where Rudolf gives Mary a ring takes place in what appears to be his bedroom and his bed is just standing right in the middle with two bigass lamps next to it, why would you do that